A^jia 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 THE WILMER COLLECTION 
 
 OF CIVIL WAR NOVELS 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 RICHARD H. WILMER, JR. 
 
MMmc(^s£c 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2009 with funding from 
 
 University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/belleviewstoryofOOdavi 
 
BELLEYIEW 
 
 A STORY OF THE SOUTH FROM 
 1860 TO 1865 
 
 BY j:n'o. e. dayis 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 JOHN B. ALDEN, PUBLfSEER 
 
 1889 
 
. \ ■ ■ . : T- ., \ 
 
 \ 
 
 Copyright, 1888, 
 
 BY 
 
 JNO. E. DAVIS, 
 
/ 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 PART I. 
 
 CHAPTER, ■ PAGE. 
 
 I. The New School Teacher, . . . 7 
 
 II, Belleview, and the Gachet Family, - - 16 
 
 III. The School Trustees, . ... 21 
 
 IV, Colonel Gachet Discourses Politically, - 41 
 V, In which Wyndship Opens his School — Makes Some 
 
 Acquaintances — and Accepts an Invitation, 54 
 
 VI. A Southern Plantation, . . . 64 
 
 VII. Paradise and the Serpent, - - - - 73 
 
 VIII. Wyndship is Bitten, ... - 84 
 
 IX, Wyndship as a Philosopher — Mrs. Martin Speaks 
 
 Her Mind, 96 
 
 X. Paradise Again, . . _ _ 105 
 
 XI. Insanity by the Wholesale, - - - 111 
 
 XII. Young America to the Rescue, - - 118 
 
 XIII. Elma Secures an Ally — Wyndship an Adviser, - 126 
 
 XIV. Wyndship Undertakes to Follow Advice, - 137 
 XV. "January as Bright as a Summer's Day," - 144 
 
 XVI. "I was Mistaken,"— "Falser than all Fancy Fathoms, "149 
 
 XVII, Mrs. Martin Sees the Note, - - - - 161 
 
 XVIII. Mrs. Martin Makes a Discovery, - - - 168 
 
 XIX, An Explanation and a Council of War, - 178 
 
 XX, Leon Makes Love — and so Does Carlos, - 183 
 
 XXI, Carlos and the Patroiers, ... 195 
 
 XXII, Leon Receives his Answer, - - - 204 
 
 XXIII. The Frenzy of Patriotism, ... 213 
 
 PART II. 
 
 I. Gettysburg — Leon Makes a Prediction, - - 230 
 
 II. " Come On, My Brave Virginians— Follow Me," 230 
 
 III. Leon and Wyndship, - - - . 237 
 
 IV. The Misery of Certainty— Also of Uncertainty, - 250 
 V. Nearing the Goal, - - ' - - 255 
 
 VI. Johnnie Hall's Present of Service, - - 264 
 
 VII. Wyndship Delivers Leon's Package, - 272 
 
 VIII. Arthur Rallies and Reforms his Forces, - 283 
 
 IX. Wyndship's Capture and Trial, - - 299 
 
 X. A Ride for Help, 315 
 
 XL Arthur Leaves Nothing to Fate, but Goes in to Win, 325 
 
 XII. The Surrender, . . - , 334 
 
 602801 
 
BELLEVIEW. 
 
 PART I. 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE NEW SCHOOL TEACHER. 
 
 About five o'clock one afternoon in the latter part of 
 August, 1860, the usual small crowd had collected about 
 the post-office door in the little village of Somerville, 
 Ga., awaiting the in-coming mail-hack. This crowd was 
 of the character regularly drawn together on such an oc- 
 casion, consisting of the full corps of village idlers, a 
 few farmers and planters of the neighborhood waiting 
 for their mail, and two or three negro boys on the same 
 errand for masters who could not or preferred not to 
 come themselves. Seated on benches, boxes, chairs and 
 the edges of the gallery, they were engaged in disposing 
 of the surplus hour or two on,their hands in a rambling 
 and irregular conversation on those never-failing topics, 
 the weather, the crops, politics and neighborhood matters. 
 
 It was one of the excessively hot days peculiar to Au- 
 gust in a climate where the summer continues to reign un- 
 til the last of September. A cloudless sky had permit- 
 ted, or rather assisted, the heat of the sun to penetrate 
 through and overpower all animal nature — its burning 
 rays being reflected by the white, sandy soil, with double 
 intensity. P^nergy wt.s nt a decided discount, and every- 
 thing looked dull and sleepy. The human group around 
 the post-office door, the horses hitched under the scatter- 
 ing shade trees, the dogs dozing beneath the benches 
 and floor, all looked incapable of the least exertion. 
 Even the irrepressible fly buzzed about in a listless man- 
 ner, as if its mission of annoying the animate world had 
 at last grown monotonous, and it was longing for the 
 
8 THE NEW SCHOOL TEACHER. 
 
 Tvinter's vacation. Up and down the single street \i\y 
 the giistenuig sand, undistm-bed by man or beast, for the 
 village cows and pigs could not mnster up physical cour- 
 age and endurance sufficiently to brave its furnace heat. 
 The foliage of the trees, even, hung listless and droop- 
 ing, as if too Inzy to rustle with the slight v.'r.iiderng 
 breeze. It was just such an afternoon as would in^ice 
 the most active of men to await expectant events with 
 patient submission, if not with dull indifference ; conse- 
 quently, our Somerville friends, accustomed to their 
 present task, endured and waited like philosophers should. 
 Still there wns, seemingly, one exception. 
 
 "Phew! Ain't this fearful hot weather?" ejaculated 
 the occupant of a seat on a dry-goods box, spasmodic- 
 ally fanning himself Avith his straAv hat. 
 
 The truth of this assertion was too evident to bear 
 contradiction, and it wj;s received v>ith that silence which 
 should alw^ays follow such unnecessary remarks. Possi- 
 bly, his hearers wished secretly for the "Fool Killer" to 
 wander around that way — that is, if that useful indi- 
 vidual still retained sutllcient energy for active opera- 
 tions. One negro boy, overcome by the drowsy effects 
 of the heat and, probably, of a last night's "watermill-. 
 yun raid," had fallen asleep in the shade of a tree, while 
 a companion, a little more lively inclined, was tickling 
 his nose with a pine straw. This is sometimes a very en- 
 tertaining and mu-th-producing amusement to all but the 
 victim, but to-day it had no perceptible effect on the audi- 
 ence ; nor did the manipulator himself, apparently, 
 derive enough enjoyment to paj' for the effort, as he soon 
 desisted, and left his colored brother to snore in peace. 
 
 Neighborhood gossip had received all the attention the 
 loiterers seemed disposed to give it, the subject of the 
 weather had been set down upon, crops had grown mo- 
 notonous, and politics well, who cares to punch in 
 
 a red-hot furnace on a red-hot day ? Consequently the 
 little crowd was on the verge of transforming itself into p.p.^ 
 a Quaker meeting, when one of its m.embers came to the RBC 
 rescue. .. ^ , . 
 
 " I reckon the new school teacher will come on to-day's nQy 
 stage," remarked a thin-visaged, narrow-browed man, 
 occupying one end of a bench. 
 
 " Well, Slaton, you trustees went and employed a 
 Yankee after all?" <c^ - 
 
BELLEVTEW. 9 
 
 *'Yes," responded the other. "Nothing would do 
 Harley and Maj. Dismukes, but we must have a teacher 
 fresh from tlie North, and as they made a majority, I 
 had to give in. It seems mighty strange to me, that we 
 can't get Southern men good enough to teach our chil- 
 dren. If I had my way, nobody north of Mason and 
 Dixon line should ever teach school in old Georgia again. 
 It's all a notion, enyhow, 'bout Yankees bein' better 
 teachers. Don't you say so, Doctor?" 
 
 " Well — , no. I believe our friends at the North un- 
 derstand, and succeed better in that business than we do. 
 Our wa}^ of life — the influences under which our young 
 men and women are raised — unfits them for such occupa- 
 tions. Besides, such weather as this takes all the go- 
 ahead and energy out of our people, and those two quali- 
 ties are very necessary to make a good teacher. Better 
 get all the good you can out of the Yankees now, for if 
 I am not mistaken in the signs of the times, the oppor- 
 tunity won't last long." 
 
 *'What do you mean?" asked an elderly gentleman, 
 standing in the door- way. 
 
 " I mean that if our Democratic leaders don't show more 
 judgment — more statesmanship and less wrangling — 
 there is stormy times in the near future for this country." 
 
 " For my part," said ]Mr. Slaton, with more animation 
 than any of the speakers had hitherto shown, " I don't 
 believe we will ever have any peace, or any prosperity 
 either, until the South secedes and sets up a government 
 of her own. It makes no difference who is elected, the 
 Abolitionists of the North will never rest until they bring 
 on a war. Look how they are enticing our niggers to 
 run away every day, and then refuse to give 'em up, or 
 to enforce the fugitive slave law. Look liow they secretly 
 egged ' Old John Brown ' on to raisin' an insurrection at 
 Harper's Ferry. I'm for secession, myself. If I've got 
 to fight to keep my property, I want to secede first, and 
 then let 'em bring on a war if they want to ; I'm not 
 afraid but what we can whip the whole Yankee nation." 
 
 " Better not be too certain about that ; I, for one, do 
 not care to try it, either in or out of the L'nion. The 
 two sections have lived and prospered now seventy-five 
 years together, and I hope they will remain so." 
 
 ".Amen, to that," responded the gentleman in the 
 door-way. 
 
10 THE KEW SCHOOL TEACHER. 
 
 " You were born and raised at the North, Squire Mar- 
 tin," retorted Shiton, turning to the last speaker, " and 
 of course feel different from we native Southerners." 
 
 '' I don't see why I should. I have lived for thirt}^ 
 years in this State, have married here, have all my prop- 
 erty and interest here. All my ties, associations and 
 sympathies are with the South, and that ought to entitle 
 m^e to a clean bill of health. Don't you think so. 
 Doctor?" 
 
 *' Certainly." Then turning to a new-comer who 
 stood on the steps, wiping his face with a red bandana 
 handkerchief, the doctor continued: ''Mr. Slaton here 
 tells me, Major, that you and Harley have out- voted 
 him again on the school-teacher question." 
 
 ' ' Well — I believe Mr. Slaton was not in favor of em- 
 ploying a Northern man ; but really, Mr. Wyndship was 
 so highly recommended by Judge Alston, that Mr. Har- 
 ley and myself thought we ought not to miss the oppor- 
 tunity of securing his services." 
 
 " He is an acquaintance of the Judge's, then?" 
 
 ''Yes. The Judge met him while North last spring, 
 and thinks we will not only find him eminently qualified 
 for the avocation of teaching, but in every way a per- 
 fect gentleman." 
 
 " Alston ought to be able to tell a gentleman when he 
 sees one." 
 
 "Undoubtedly — at least we had so high an opinion 
 of his judgment, that we secured Mr. AYjmdship's ad- 
 dress, and wrote to him at once, offering to employ him 
 for a term of years, but he declined to engage himself 
 longer than one year." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "He wrote, that if pleased with the South well 
 enough to settle here, he would probably wish to com- 
 mence the practice of his profession after one year." 
 
 " What is his profession?" 
 
 " The law." 
 
 *' Yes," broke in Slaton, snapping out his words like 
 a mud-turtle ; " I'll be bound, that in a few years you'll 
 be sending him to the Legislature, and to Congress, just 
 as if we didn't have vSoutliern men smart enough to make 
 our laws. That is the ruin of this countr}^ having Yan- 
 kees for our school-teachers, for our lawyers, and for 
 our public men." 
 
belleView. 11 
 
 " Some of the safest and staiincliest Southern men we 
 have were born at the North," suggested the Doctor, 
 with a smile. 
 
 " Yes, and when the time of danger comes, you'll see 
 how quick they are going to betray us." 
 
 '' You are unreasonable as well as unjust, I fear." 
 
 Slaton's reply was checked by Mr. Martin, who, step- 
 ping out on the gallery, remarked : 
 
 " There comes the hack. We can soon judge the new 
 teacher by appearances for ourselves, as I see that it 
 contains a passenger." 
 
 A cloud of dust down the street indicated the approach 
 of the expected vehicle, whose wet and fagged-out 
 team, a little later, drew up in front of the post-office. 
 The passenger it contained was a young man and a 
 stranger. 
 
 " Is the gentleman of whom I was speaking to you 
 in the crowd?" he inquired of the driver, in a low 
 tone. 
 
 *' Yes, sir — that's Mr. Martin standing by the post." 
 
 " I will get out here, then. You can leave my bag- 
 gage at the hotel." 
 
 On hearing his name called, Mr. Martin approached 
 as the stranger alighted. The latter introduced himself, 
 giving his name as Wyndship, and adding, that he was 
 the bearer of a letter of introduction from their mutual 
 friend, Mr. Iredell, of Philadelphia. 
 
 *' I am pleased to meet you," responded the old gentle- 
 man, cordially. *' I suppose you intend making our 
 little village your home — for the next twelve months, at 
 least?" 
 
 ''Yes. I have accepted the offer of your board of 
 school trustees for the ensuing term." 
 
 ''As two of the trustees and a few of the patrons are 
 present, I will introduce them — that is, if you do not 
 prefer waiting until recovered from the fatigtie of your 
 journey." 
 
 The young man assenting, the ceremony was speedily 
 ■gone through with — "Dr. Hurst," " Maj. Dismukes," 
 "Mr. Slaton," etc., accompanied with the usual hand- 
 shaking and polite expressions of pleasure ; all of which 
 sounded sincere and cordial enough, except, possibly, 
 that of the last-named person. After some general con- 
 versation about the heat, traveling, etc., Mr. Martin re- 
 
12 
 
 THE NEW SCHOOL TEACHER. 
 
 marked to the young stranger, that he was doubtless 
 tired from his long trip, and would like to rest and re- 
 fresh himself. 
 
 " I was just going to ask you to point out the hotel, 
 or — tavern." 
 
 " I will take you up to my house. I think we can 
 make you passably comfortable there." 
 
 A look of surprise came over the young man's face, 
 and he opened his lips as if to object, but a sudden 
 thought seemed to strike him. He had heard, that in 
 some of these out-of-the-way country villages in the 
 South there were no regular houses of entertainment, 
 but private citizens were sometimes not averse to earn- 
 ing an honest penny by supplying travelers with the ac- 
 commodations they would otherwise have to go with- 
 out. 
 
 " I ordered the driver to leave my trunk at the hotel," 
 he ventured, interrogatively. 
 
 " Yes ; I will send my boy down after it." 
 " I am afraid I will be putting you and your family to 
 unnecessary trouble." 
 
 " Not in the least — You will put us to no trouble, and 
 if you should, I dare say the pleasure of j^our society 
 will be ample recompense." 
 
 '' But, Mr. Martin, it is too great an imposition on 
 your kindness — especially by a person who was an utter 
 stranger to you a few moments ago." 
 
 *' Pshaw, that is nothing. I insist on your coming 
 with me." 
 
 As they turned to cross the street, their way was 
 blocked by a private carriage, which had stopped in 
 front of the post-office. 
 
 '' Good evening. Colonel. How do you do, Miss 
 Elma?" said Mr. Martin, stopping to shake hands with 
 its occupants. " Back from your visit looking more be- 
 witching than ever," he continued, to the lady. '' Well, 
 I am glad to see that the mountains have benefited you 
 so much. Miss Owens, let me introduce my friend, Mr. 
 Wyndship? And— Col. Cachet, Mr. AVyudship." 
 
 It was a lovely face that the stranger's eyes rested 
 upon, and when the dark brown eyes turned to him in 
 recognition of the introduction, it became very much 
 more attractive. They passed around the rear of the 
 carriage, and when on the other side, the desire to catch 
 
BELLEVIEW. 13 
 
 another glimpse of the picture caused him to look back, 
 when he met another bewildering g.ize. The yonng 
 lady's glance instantly fell, and a blush colored her face 
 at being caught in a seeming impropriety. 
 
 " Tell Mrs. Martin I am coming to see her as soon as 
 I get rested, Mr. Martin." 
 
 The voice was in strict harmony with the face, and 
 sounded like delicious music in Wyndship's ears. 
 
 *' Col. Gachet is one of our prominent citizens," ex- 
 plained Mr. Martin, " and the young lady is his ward. 
 She is just getting home from a visit to some friends in 
 Tennessee." 
 
 After a short walk, Mr. Martin opened a yard gate, 
 and led his companion up to a low frame building of un- 
 pretentious appearance. This house was built in a style 
 that indicated land to be a very plentiful article in the 
 village of Somerville — at least the builder had contrived 
 to cover as much ground-space as was possible, consider- 
 ing its size. In fact, a wide hall through the centre, and 
 two wade " piazzas," one in front and one in the rear, 
 occupied no small part of the foundation. It was situated 
 about seventy-five yards back from the road, or street, 
 with a smooth sanded walk leading from the gate to the 
 steps of the front piazza. On each side of this walk the 
 grounds were laid off in mounds and flower-beds, covered 
 wath profuse, but tastefully-arranged shrubbery, rose- 
 bushes and plants, whose beauty had not been entirely 
 destroyed by the hot, dry w'eather. On one side stood a 
 little rustic summer-house, supporting a perfect wealth 
 of luxuriant vines, while on the other — the south side — 
 an arbor of similar construction and adornment led to 
 the side-door of a small, but well-built conservatory, 
 showing that the owner was not satisfied with spring and 
 summer flowers alone. The effect of it all was pleasing 
 to the eye, even at this season of the year, but an appre- 
 ciative beholder would be certain to wonder and conject- 
 ure, in his, or her mind, about its loveliness in the 
 spring, when blazing and sparkling with innumerable 
 clusters of nature's richest jewels. Indeed, this beauti- 
 fully-arranged and carefully-kept " flower-yard," in the 
 eyes of the Northern stranger, was so out of proportion 
 to the appearance of the dwelling, as to immediately at- 
 tract his attention. 
 
 The latter had once been painted ; but time and weather 
 
14 THE NEW SCHOOL TEACItEft. 
 
 had obliterated most of the effects of this operation, and 
 both its master and mistress thought more of the vines — 
 Yellow Jasmine, Honeysuckle, Woodbine and English 
 Ivy — that clambered over the piazzas, up the walls and 
 on to the roof, than they could possibly have done for 
 any achievement of the house-painter's art. His conve- 
 nience would necessarily require their temporaiy sacrifice 
 at least, and consequently, the whiteness that originally 
 adorned the outer walls, faded and vanished j^ear by year, 
 in order that the softer tints of the natural emerald might 
 increase. "The vines will rot down your house," sug- 
 gested some of th«ir friends. "When they do, we will 
 build another, for we can't give up our trailing beauties," 
 was the invariable response. 
 
 When the two reached the steps, a lady somewhat past 
 the noon-day of life, who had previously been hidden by 
 the foliage, arose from an easy chair to meet them. 
 
 " This is my wife, Mr. Wyndship," wvjs the simple in- 
 troduction. "Mr. Wyndship is our new teacher," Mr 
 Martin continued in explanation, "and as he was tired 
 from his long trip, I have brought him up to rest. But 
 where is Carlos?" 
 
 " Here, sir," was the answer from the back porch, and 
 a bright-looking mulatto boy, about sixteen years old, 
 came foi"v\'ard through the hall. 
 
 "Take the hand-cart, Carlos, and run down to the 
 tavern after the gentleman's baggage, that was left there 
 this evening by the hack." 
 
 Mrs. Martin's greeting was kind and cordial, and so 
 entirely free from any affectation as to immediately place 
 the young man entirely at ease. This effect was pro- 
 duced, not so much by the words she uttered, as by the 
 bright eyes and kindly face, radiant with 'the loveliness 
 that only comes from many j^ears of a good and happy 
 life, and on which Time had scarcely dared to lay his sac- 
 rilegious finger. 
 
 After a few commonplace remarks, Wyndship was 
 shown to a room on the east side of the house, which he 
 was told to consider as his own until he should determine 
 on his boarding-place. One corner of this room was oc- 
 cupied by an old-fashioned, high-post bedstead, whose 
 large, dow^y, looking pillows, and snow-white spread, 
 spoke volumes of rest and comfort to the tired traveler. 
 In the opposite corner, by the side of one of the east 
 
BET.LEVIEVV. Id 
 
 windows, stood a plain walnut table on which were ar- 
 ranged a few books and magazines. On the other side 
 of the window was a wash-stand, equipped with an oddly 
 shaped water-pitcher and basin, while an old-fashioned 
 chest of drawers, and a mirror, occupied the remaining 
 corner of the room. A home-made fire-screen hid the 
 fire-place, and over it, above the mantle, hung an oil 
 painting containing some impossible figures of cows and 
 horses (fortunately nearly hid by the discolorations of 
 age), but which Mrs. Martin religiously preserved from 
 the fate to which all bad pictures and caricatures on 
 nature should be condemned, because it was a gift from 
 an old school friend. This painting, with a couple of 
 flower vases on the mantel, and one or two wall-pockets 
 — of home manufacture, like the screen — constituted the 
 only efforts at ornamentation ; but everything looked 
 homelike and comfortable, and was scrupulously clean 
 and tidy. The bare floor, light-colored ceiling, and pure 
 white window curtains, were perfectly free from any 
 stain or dirt. 
 
 As this young man will occupy an important position 
 among the characters, and in the events, we shall en- 
 deavor to describe, let us take a brief glance at his per- 
 sonnel and parts while he is performing his ablutions. 
 He was nearly six feet tall, with an erect, well-propor- 
 tioned, through rather slender figure. His face, strictly 
 speaking, could not be called handsome, still an expres- 
 sion of candor and intelligence, of serious good humor 
 and latent firmness, and a pair of deep blue eyes which 
 could become very expressive under any excitement, 
 made it, at least pleasant and attractive. It was not 
 the face of the typical Yankee adventurer, carrying its 
 masque of brass — indeed, Robert "VVyndship did not 
 possess any of the characteristics usually supposed to be- 
 long to that irrepressible class. There was no " cheek" 
 in his talk, nor self-assurance in his manners. To the 
 contrar}^, both exhibited rather an excess of sensitive 
 modesty and self-depreciation at times — something sup- 
 loosed to be ver}^ unusual in his class, and consequently 
 the more noticeable to the eye. 
 
 He was born and raised in the State of Pennsylvania. 
 His father, of whom he had but slight remembrance, 
 died when he was quite young, leaving him and a younger 
 sister to the care of their widowed mother. He also left 
 
16 BELl.EVIEW, AND THE GACHET FAMILY. 
 
 her very limited means of support, but this did not deter 
 her from undertaking to educate the two cliildren. The 
 son, in particular, she determined should have every ad- 
 vantage, and as far as it lay in her power, be fully 
 equipped mentally for his battle with the w^orld. By 
 hard work and close economy she succeeded in her pur- 
 pose, and after exhausting the resources of the common 
 schools, she placed him in the college at Princeton to 
 finish. Appreciating her wisdom, and the sacrifices she 
 was making for his welfare, he applied himself diligently 
 to his studies, and graduated with high honors at the 
 head of his class. Selecting law as his profession, he 
 lost no time in preparing himself for its duties ; but by 
 this time his mother's means had become so nearly ex- 
 hausted, that he saw, that instead of waiting the slow 
 process of building up a lucrative practice, he must for 
 the present turn his attention to some better paying em- 
 plojmient. Unwilling to leave, and unable to remove 
 her to a newer country where his talents w^ere more in 
 demand, he commenced teaching in his native State. 
 Competition was strong and salaries were low, and he 
 found climbing up the hill of fortune slow and tedious 
 work. Fortunately, before he became discouraged and 
 disheartened by the bitter struggle, his sister married a 
 promising young merchant. This not only relieved him 
 of part of his burden, but of all, for the brother-in-law 
 joined with his wife in insisting that their mother should 
 make their house her home. Thus relieved from the ties 
 that bound him, Wyndship, at the suggestion of his 
 friends, turned his footsteps towards the Mecca of many 
 impecunious young Yankees — the Southern States. 
 Accidentally making the acquaintance of Judge Alston, 
 that gentleman's influence secured the offer of the school 
 at Somerville. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 BELLEVIEW, AND THE GACHET FAMILY. 
 
 The citizens of Somerville were very proud of Belle- 
 view, Colonel Gachet's homestead. Situated about a mile 
 north from the village, it was approached from the pnl > 
 lie road thi-ough a large gate that opened into a well-kept 
 
BELLEVIEW. 17 
 
 lawn, dotted over with oak, nicKory and chestnut trees. 
 A graveled drive, forming an irregular avenue, led up a 
 gentle incline to the neatly trimmed hedge that separa- 
 ted the lawn from the flower garden immediately sur- 
 rounding the front and sides of the house. A small 
 iron gate gave admission through the hedge to a double 
 walk which divided to meet again at the front steps of 
 the house — each division making a half -moon detour 
 around an iron fountain in the centre, whose design was 
 hid from sight by a mass of ferns and creeping plants. 
 
 If the neighbors were proud of this flower-garden, its 
 owner and his family were doubly so. Whatever addi- 
 tion to its beauties time or money could give, it had 
 received, and no matter where the " Colonel" wandered, 
 or what business' was on his hands at the time, no new 
 flower or plant ever met his eye, that he did not attempt 
 to secure a root or cutting for Belleview. Much larger 
 in extent than Mrs. Martin's, still every foot of space 
 had been utilized in some wa}^ ; for a bed of flowering 
 plants, some ornamental shrub, a leafy arbor, or a \ine° 
 clad summer-house, until a lover of the beautiful in that 
 line could spend hours within its confines and still find 
 something new to admire. 
 
 When tired of its luxuriance, one had only to pass 
 out through the hedge on the northern side, and find 
 himself in a grove whose adornment had been left more 
 to nature's own devices. Through this, a path led down 
 a hill to an artificial lake, or pond, where stood a rustic 
 boat-house and wharf, and which was large enough to 
 furnish a moderate amount of recreation at the oars. 
 This pond was also well-stocked with fish, and it, and 
 the extensive woodland beyond, furnished the master 
 and his friends with excellent sport in the way of fish- 
 ing and squirrel-hunting, during the proper seasons of 
 the year. 
 
 The dwelling was of two stories, and built nearly in a 
 square, being just the opposite of of the jumbled, " gin- 
 ger-bread" cottage stj^le so much in vogue during these 
 later days. A two-story piazza ran entirely around its 
 four^sides, and on both floors, a wide hall with folding 
 doors extended from the front to the rear. The columns 
 and banisters of the piazzas and stairway, the painting 
 and interior decorations, were all free from any attempt 
 at fanciful ornamentation — even the costly old-fash- 
 
18 BELLEVIEW, AND THE GACHET FAMILY. 
 
 ionecl furniture and carpets with which it was furnished 
 were of the plainest pattern, and most subdued colors. 
 Evidently, it was on flowers alone that the family de- 
 pended for the gratification of whatever taste, or love, 
 they possessed for rich hues and brilliant effects. Back 
 of the house was a yard densely shaded with mulberry 
 and mock orange trees, extending back to another hedge 
 which separated the grounds of the dwelling proper, 
 from those of the negro quarter. Even to the latter place 
 the owner's love for the beautiful had extended, as was 
 shown by the two rows of neat little cabins with a shady, 
 clean-swept street between. Once a year these cabins 
 were whitewashed within and without, and their white 
 walls glistening through the green of the trees was not 
 without its artistic effect. 
 
 On the afternoon that our story opens, a small group 
 of three persons were gathered on the front of the pi- 
 azza, apparently in expectation of some amval. The 
 older of the three, a lady verging on to forty, was seated 
 in an easy chair at the head of the steps. Of slight fig- 
 ure and fragile appearance, the storms of life had seem- 
 ingly dealt gently with her past, as her smooth hair still 
 retained its original color, and the blue eyes were as 
 placid, if not as bright, as those of the young girl at her 
 feet. They were evidently mother and daughter, as the 
 latter had the same golden hair, blue eyes and pure 
 blonde complexion. Her form, though slight, was some- 
 what taller and fuller than the older lady's, but hardly 
 enough to make her full medium size. Her hair curled 
 in natural ringlets around the white brow, and the blue 
 eyes laughed and sparkled with merriment and happi- 
 ness. Just entering her eighteenth 3^ear, with all the 
 freshness of a girl, and all the graceful sweetness of 
 young womanhood, she presented as fair a pictm-e as 
 could be found in a State noted for its beautiful women. 
 
 Their companion was a rather good-looking young 
 man of twenty-two, or three, with a pleasant face and 
 manner. The face had an exceedingly pleased expres- 
 sion just now, as he watched the slender fingers of the 
 girl arranging a small bouquet of ferns and grasses, al- 
 though it must be acknowledged that he was heartily 
 envying the slanting sun-rays as they stole through the 
 vines, lingered gently on the golden curls, and softly 
 kissed her dainty cheek. 
 
BELLEVIEW. 1 {) 
 
 '' I wonder what makes them so late?" said the hit- 
 ter, ghinciiig down the avenne ; '' Papa always gets home 
 from Milton before this." 
 
 *' Not always, my danghter. It has been so warm to- 
 day, that they could not drive fast — besides, the train 
 may have heen delayed." 
 
 ^' I am so anxious to have Elma home again, and to 
 hear her talk about her experience in the mountains. I 
 know she had a splendid time." 
 
 *' Miss Elma stopped at Marietta on her way back 
 from Tennessee, did she not?" 
 
 ''Yes, she promised May Thompson to visit her 
 this summer, and has been spending the last week 
 there." 
 
 '' I wonder if your anxiety to see Miss Elma is not 
 prompted by a desire to hear from some one in Mari- 
 etta ?" queried the 3^oung man in a teasing manner. 
 
 " I have several friends there that I will be de- 
 lighted to hear from. There is May and Janie Wright, 
 and " 
 
 "And?" 
 
 ''Well, Mr. Curiosity — and, Will Thompson," was 
 the laughing reply, glancing up. 
 
 He must have seen something reassuring in the 
 glance, for the pleased expression remained on his 
 face. 
 
 " Will Miss Elma return alone?" 
 
 "Yes. Why were you not gallant enough to go up 
 after her?" 
 
 " I did not know, and " 
 
 " And?" in mocking imitation of his former query. 
 
 "Father says Belle view is the only place I can find 
 time to visit," he whispered, with a look that deepened 
 the rose on her cheek. 
 
 "You are a great stay-at-home then," she replied, 
 trying to appear careless. 
 
 " How do you like Milton as a place of residence, 
 Charley ? or have you been there long enough to say ?" 
 interrupted Mrs. Gachet. 
 
 " I think I will like it very much. I have been there 
 but very little as yet ; in fact, we do not get possession 
 of our office until next Monday." 
 
 "And then you will hang out your — your — What 
 do vou call it?" asked the girl, mischievously. 
 
20 BELLEVIEV/, AND THE GACHET FAMILY. 
 
 '' Shingle," he suggested. 
 
 " That's it — shingle as a full-fledged lawyer." 
 
 " Yes. Won't you bring me a ' case' right away? You 
 know the first ' case' is always a great thing with young 
 lawyers." 
 
 *' But how can I ? Must I go and steal something and 
 employ you to defend me ?" 
 
 '' If we lived at the North, I would propose that you 
 jilt some one of your lovers so that we could get up a 
 breach of promise suit against you." 
 
 *' Oh ! but you don't think that I can have a lover !" 
 
 *' How could I possibly think that?" he asked, with a 
 look wiiich caused her eyes to turn in the direction of 
 the gate. 
 
 *' There they come," she cried, as a carriage drove 
 into the avenue. *' Now, Mr. Charley, for a race — I'm 
 going to beat you to the gate," and springing up, she 
 ran lightly down the steps and along the walk. He did 
 not accept the challenge, however, but waited on the 
 more sober steps of her mother. 
 
 The coachman touched up his team, and came up to 
 the hedge in the style and with the flourish so delightful 
 - to the Ethiopian heart. Miss Owens did not wait for 
 the assistance of the gentleman, but sprang out into 
 the arms of her friend, giving and receiving a true young 
 woman's greeting — hugs and kisses — afterwards salut- 
 ing INIrs. Gachet in a more respectful and daughterly 
 manner, and then shaking hands with the young man. 
 In the meantune Col. Gachet also climbed out, his dig- 
 nified motions seeming to be, whether intended or not, 
 a silent rebulie to the effusiveness of his ward and 
 daughter. Together they returned to the house, the two 
 girls arm in arm ahead, while the other two respectfully 
 listened to the Colonel's relation of his trip to Macon, 
 and the news he had heard in the city. 
 
 "You can entertain yourselves for a while ; Elma is 
 mine for the present," Miss Gachet called back on en- 
 tering the hall, and the girls huiTied off to their room. 
 
 " Have a seat out here, Charley," said Col. Gachet, 
 "they will be down presently." 
 
 " Thank you, but I expect I had better go" — (hesitat- 
 ingly) " I must go by the office for our mail." 
 
 " I saw the Doctor there as we passed ; he has saved 
 you that trouble." 
 
BELLEYTEW. 21 
 
 *' Toa will soon be ready, and you must stay and take 
 some," said ^Frs. Gachet, pleasnnth^ 
 
 Evidently it did not take much insisting to keep Char- 
 ley Hurst at Belleview, as he occupied the proffered chair 
 without any further hesitation. 
 
 While the trio on the piazza are beguiling the time in 
 conversation on general topics, and the couple up stairs 
 in confidential chat peculiar to their sort, let us turn 
 back for a brief glance at their past, in order to become 
 the better acquainted. Col. Gachet was the only son of 
 a wealthy South Carolinian. When a young man he 
 had served as a lieutenant in a volunteer company 
 daring the Seminole War, and by that means acquired a 
 military title — the promotion in rank coming afterwards 
 through the courtesy of his friends. While in Florida he 
 fell in love with and married, a beautiful Spanish girl, 
 who lived only a few years. His father also died about 
 the same time as his wife, and having then no special 
 ties to bind him to the old home, he removed with his 
 slaves and his three -year-old son to Georgia. After a 
 few years of widowhood, he met his second wife, the 
 daughter of a wealthy Georgian, and speedily found 
 consolation for his late bereavements in the light of her 
 gentle blue eyes. There was a striking difference be- 
 tween the physical types and mental characteristics of 
 his two wives which were faithfully reproduced in the 
 child that each, bore him. His daughter, Mollie, as 
 we have seen, inherited her mother's blonde beauty, and 
 with it a sweet, cheerful disposition that made her a 
 favorite with all, both high and low, throughout the 
 neighborhood. 
 
 His son, Leon, who was now away on a visit to his 
 morher's relatives in Florida, was considered very hand- 
 some, with the black eyes and hair, and dark complex- 
 ion of his Spanish ancestry. It wa« generally supposed 
 that he was indebted to his mother also for his quick 
 temper and haughty, impetuous disposition, but it is 
 possible that some of this temperament might be justly 
 charged up to his father's account. At any rate, they 
 had some traits in common, among which was family 
 pride, although it was more exaggerated in the son. 
 The same might be truthfully said about the strong 
 prejudices that were common to both, and a certain in- 
 ability which each possessed to see more than one side 
 
22 BELLEVIE-\V, AXT) THE GAOTTET FAMILY. 
 
 of a qnestion at the same time. The Gachets had never 
 l)een common people — at least they could trace their 
 Imeage hack to one who had fonght for the Protestant 
 faith by the side of the great C'olign3^ Expatriation 
 had followed the collapse of the Huguenot cause, but in 
 England and in America the family had always remem- 
 bered and sustained the high reputation their fore- 
 fathers had won. Then, too, Leon's mother was a de- 
 scendant of one of those brave and enterprising Span- 
 iards who made Spain mistress of the new Southern 
 world. 
 
 There is no particular harm in family pride so long as 
 w^e do not rely on it alone, and so long as it does not 
 cause us to belittle the worth of others whose fathers 
 ■were *' nobodies." Really, it might be commendable so 
 far as it prompts us to emulate the great deeds of illus- 
 trious fore-fathers. Leon Gachet was still young, and 
 the future alone could determine whether or not his van- 
 ity and ambition would be satisfied with the contempla- 
 tion of past greatness, and with the very dim and un- 
 certain reflection of ancient glory ; but for the present, 
 ^t least, he uiffloubtedly regarded himself as being made 
 ^If finer clay than the masses around. This trait had 
 contributed greatly to make him unpopular at school, 
 for the average boy of America is imbued with a 
 supreme contempt of the past, and places all his 
 faith in personality. It had also injured him in the es- 
 timation of his father's neighbors, who possessed too 
 much honest self- appreciation themselves to admit any 
 man as their superior on account of his grandfather alone. 
 "Bigheaded," "stuck up" and like expressions were 
 frequently used to signify their estimation of his charac- 
 ter, and they were not slow to believe, or quick to sup- 
 press, rumors derogatory to his reputation as a steady 
 and moral young man. Consequently he was regarded 
 by many as being somewhat wild and dissipated, and was 
 suspected of occasionally courting the favors of 
 the fickle Goddess of Fortune around the gaml)ling ta- 
 bled a suspicion that was partly supported by the re- 
 spectable per cent, of his father's inconie which he man- 
 aged to disburse each year. The Colonel, however, 
 could see no blemish in his handsome, high-spirited son. 
 In his eyes he was as near perfection as it was possible 
 for a mortal to be, and he felt no fear as to his future j 
 
BELLEVIEW. 23 
 
 no fear but what the honor and reputation of the name 
 would be perfectly safe in his hands. To the contrary, 
 he looked forward with fond anticipation to the addi- 
 tional laurels that Leon would twine around their family 
 greatness. 
 
 Nor was the latter without some redeeming qualities. 
 His excessive pride had not destroyed all ambition for 
 personal distinction, nor had the influences of his life 
 entirely softened his inheritance of that iron energy 
 which had predominated in the charact^' of his an- 
 cestors. Moreover, he had inherited their personal 
 courage to a marked extent ; was incapable of deceit or 
 sycophancy in any way ; and despite his Spanish love 
 for revenge, could sometimes be magnanimous to a de- 
 feated foe. He could love as strongly as he could hate ; 
 his friendship once gained would stand the severest test, 
 in fact, ignored the faults of the favored one as long 
 as was possible without violating his sense of 
 honor, and no one had ever yet had cause to doubt his 
 truthfulness. With rather more than ordinary mental 
 as well as physical endowments, and a fair cultivation 
 of his talents, there was much about him, jf understood, 
 to attract admiration, and under the right influences h a 
 would have made a man entitled at least to the worlc^ 
 respects. To snm up, a casual observer might admire 
 his appearance and manners as those of a finished gen- 
 tleman ; the great bulk of his acquaintances saw mostly 
 his faults, while only those who were bound to him by 
 the closest of ties, ever knew and appreciated his vir- 
 tues. 
 
 Unfortunately, his father was not the kind of charac- 
 ter to happily govern and train such a son. He pos- 
 sessed rather too many of the same faults and short- 
 comings himself : morever, love for Leon combined, 
 possibly, with fear of that ungovernable temper -which 
 the latter received from his mother, and which the 
 Colonel had never forgotten, had loosened all parental re- 
 straints, except such as could be enforced by persur.sion, 
 long before the J^oung man was grown. As intimated, 
 he possessed no little amount of the same kind of pride 
 and arrogance as his son, and was inclined to be harsh 
 and overbearing to tho.se he disliked, but weakly indul- 
 gent to those he loved. As love for his son was stronger 
 than any other feeling, it naturally followed 
 
24 BELLE VIEW, AND THE GACHET FAMILY. 
 
 that to him he was the most indulgent. The father 
 desired to be, and was, in his own estimation, not only 
 broad and catholic in his views, but also above all con- 
 siderations arising from the "accident of birth." No 
 one was prouder of his Ameiican citizenship, or in theory, 
 held faster to the Jeffersonian doctrine that " all men 
 are born equal ;" but with it all, he could never forget the 
 fact, that he was a Gachet. This, however, did not pre- 
 vent him from being honorable and high-minded in his 
 actions, or from being a zealous devotee at the shrine of 
 justice — as he saw it. His neighbors thoroughly appre- 
 ciated this trait of his character, and had more than once 
 elected him to important office on the strength of it alone. 
 *' Col. Gachet will do what he believes to be right," they 
 said, " and where his judgment is correct, no one can be 
 safer." 
 
 He was charitable to a fault where he thought charity 
 was deserved ; and where his prejudices had not been 
 first aroused, he was certain to sympathise with the 
 " under dog in a fight." Passionate and querulous as a 
 master, he still regarded his slaves as dependents, and 
 closely watched his overseers for fear of cruelty or op- 
 •vpression on their part ; and in all difficulties between 
 them and his negroes, he invariably sided with the latter. 
 The consequences were, that they, taking advantage of 
 this, scarcely ever failed to drive away the overseer in a 
 short time. So unsatisfactory had this state of affairs 
 become, that at the time our story begins, he had de- 
 cided to eschew all hired stewards in the future, and to 
 take charge of his plantation himself, assisted by a fa- 
 vorite slave in the capacity of driver. His management 
 was not nor never had been, successful, and had "all his 
 wealth been invested in his plantation and negroes, he 
 never would have been able to make both ends meet. 
 Prompted by patriotism and State pride, he had invested 
 some of his surplus capital in public enterprises that, 
 strange to say, had proven profitable, and were now pay- 
 ing good dividends. This enabled him to meet the de- 
 ficits in his plantation accounts. His son had never 
 evinced any taste for the duties and occupations of a 
 planter and, except in instances germaueto his own pur- 
 poses and comfort, let plantation affairs severely alone. 
 
 But the household of Belleview contained one other 
 member worthy of some consideration, as she is destined 
 
BELLE VIE Y. 
 
 to fill no minor position in our story. In his younger 
 days, Col. Gachet had made the acquaintance of a genSe- 
 man of his own position in life, by the name of Owens, 
 and this acquaintance soon ripened into a very strong 
 friendship. Circumstances threvr them nmch to*^ 
 gether, and although very unlike in many respects, their 
 friendship did not meet with the same fate that usually 
 befalls such ties between young men. It was not 
 severed when each contracted the closer ties that come 
 with marriage, and the establishment of homes, but con- 
 tinued to grow stronger as time rolled by. 
 
 Mr. Owens married about the time of his friend's 
 second venture in the matrimonial line, and settled in the 
 city of Macon ; not so far away but what frequent op- 
 portunities were had of renewing their old comradeship. 
 Business often carried the Colonel to that city, where he 
 naturally made his friend's home his stopping place ; 
 while Belle view furnished the latter and his 3^oung family 
 with an agreeable resort for a few days' or weeks' avoid- 
 ance of the city's midsummer heat. Seated on its cool 
 piazzas, the two friends could recall the pleasant expe- 
 riences of the past in friendly chat ; or, if the humor 
 prompted them, with gun and rod, "through the leafy 
 wood and down on the river's bank," renew the sports 
 and pastimes of their younger days. 
 
 Mr. Owens's connubial happiness, however, was of 
 short duration, for his wife died within two years after 
 the birth of little Elma, their only child. As neither he 
 nor she had any relatives in the State, this bereavement 
 was doubly severe to both father and orphan ; but fortu- 
 nately, his friend, and his friend's wife, quickly proved 
 their loyalty by coming promptly to his assistance. 
 Mrs. Gachet at once insisted on taking care of the 
 motherless child, nor could it have fallen into better 
 hands. While wealth, no doubt, greatly lessens the sor- 
 rows or misfortunes of orphanage, it does not do away 
 with them altogether, and the finding of a second mother 
 like this one, was a piece of great good fortune. Mrs. 
 Gachet's susceptibilities were keenly aroused, and 
 prompted by thoughts of the possibility of her own 
 little girl meeting with so sad a misfortune, gladly took 
 the other to her home and heart. 
 
 Mr. Owens never married again, but seemed content 
 to dovQte the remainder of his life to his Uttle girl. lie 
 
26 BELLEVIEW, AND THE GACHET FAMILY. 
 
 wisely permitted her to remain with the Gachets until 
 arriving at that age when her education became a matter 
 of paramount importance. Desiring, then, to overlook 
 this part of her training personally, as well as to have 
 her with him, he took her home and placed her in a 
 school in Macon. Thus, almost exclusively under the 
 care and guidance of her father, Elma grew up to woman- 
 hood. 
 
 In the summer of 1859, Mr. Owens met with an ac- 
 cident which caused his death a few days later. In his 
 will bequeathing all his property to his daughter, he ap- 
 pointed his old friend as her guardian. The will stipu- 
 lated that Elma should continue at school until she grad- 
 uated, boarding, while doing so, in the family of another 
 friend, a lawyer by the name of Harris, living in Macon. 
 It also stipulated that none of the property, which con- 
 sisted of real estate and slaves, should be sold until 
 she became of age, or married. This was the first great 
 sorrow of the girl's life, as she was too young to feel the 
 loss when her mother died. For years her father had 
 been filling the position and duties of both parents. To 
 him she had always gone for sympathy in her girlish 
 griefs, for participation in her joys, and for counsel in 
 her trouble ; and the sudden rupture of all these ties 
 naturally made her feel that all of life's happiness was 
 past. No other loss could be so severe, no other mis- 
 fortune so great. 
 
 The wishes of the dead were religiously respected by 
 daughter and friend, and Elma continued her studies at 
 Macon until she graduated in the June preceding the 
 opening of our story. Grief and hard study had so 
 materially affected her health, that Col. Gachet en- 
 couraged her in accepting a schoolmate s invitation to 
 spend two months of the summer at the latter's home, 
 among the mountains of Tennesee. The pure and 
 bracing ah' of the Cumberlands acted like a charm on 
 the overtaxed mind and heart, and she returned, as we 
 have seen, vastly improved in health and spirits. 
 
 In person, she was scarcely above medium height, 
 although an erect and graceful carriage made her appear 
 much taller, and possessed a figure already well de- 
 veloped, and gi^^ng promise of future perfection. Dark 
 brown hair and eyes, a clear, creamy complexion, rarely 
 to be found, except in snnny climes, and — but who can 
 
BELLEVIEW. 27 
 
 dt scribe the beauty of woman ? To catalogue her features 
 might be an easy task, but who can picture with pen that 
 indescribable grace or charm, we call expression — the 
 play of thought, of feeling and of impulse, that consti- 
 tutes true beauty, and without which the most classical 
 face becomes cold and repellant? Besides, all persons 
 do not agree in their estimate of female beauty ; a lovely 
 woman in the eyes of one, becoming only passable in 
 those of another. Providence has wisely endowed man- 
 kind with a great variety of taste in that respect, or else, 
 as one who had married a notoriously homely woman, 
 and thought he was getting " the pick of the county," 
 pithily expressed it, '' everybody would have wanted my 
 wife." Let each reader employ his or her imagination in 
 depicting our heroine's charms, and then she will be 
 beautiful to all alike. 
 
 It would be hard to determine how much the want of 
 a mother's watchful care had affected Elma's character. 
 She was different from most of the girls around her — 
 was more independent and self-reliant — had her own 
 ideas of right and wrong, and the courage to follow them 
 out, regardless of what the world might think. But over 
 these peculiarities hung a fine veil of true womanliness, 
 and consequently, they did not in any wise detract from 
 her attractiveness. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE SCHOOL TRUSTEES. 
 
 After a good night's rest, Wyndship arose the next 
 morning entirely recovered from the fatigue of his trav- 
 eli?ig. The short evening had passed very pleasantly, 
 his host and hostess, with a true hospitable instinct, 
 tried to put him at ease, and to make him feel at home. 
 In fact, he quite fell in love with the latter's motherly 
 ways, and almost felt a reluctance in complying, when 
 they insisted on his retiring at an early hour ; as he 
 '' must be tired out," they said, ''by his long trip in 
 such hot weather." 
 
 At the breakfast- table Mrs. Martin remarked : 
 '' I hope you v/ill be pleased with Georgia, Mr. 
 Wyndship, and will not let our present spell of dry, hot 
 weather disgust you with our Southern country." 
 
28 THE SCHOOL TRUSTEES. 
 
 '' I have experienced heat fully as oppressive in Penn- 
 sylvania," he responded, " and so far, my impressions 
 of the South have been very pleasant indeed. Judging 
 by the reception I have met with here, hospitality must 
 be a cardinal virtue in Georgia." 
 
 *^ I dare say you will continue to be pleased," re- 
 marked Mr. Martin. *' At least that was my experience 
 thirty years ago. If you will not allow yourself to be 
 annoyed by a few hot-head extremists, that are to be , 
 found here as well as everywhere else, you will find ^ 
 '' Dixie " a pleasant abiding place. I will give you just 
 four months," he continued, with a smile, "to fall in 
 love with a Georgia girl, and just twelve months to 
 marry." 
 
 " Oh, there is no likelihood of that. I came South 
 to work, to gain a start in life, not in search of a wife." 
 
 " Neither did I, still I found one." 
 
 *' And met with a remarkable streak of good luck, I 
 perceive," responded the young man, with a gallant bow 
 towards his hostess — " much better than I can expect. 
 But seriously, I cannot allow myself to even think of 
 such a luxury as a wife yet awhile. I have a mother 
 dependent upon me : besides, I have my fortune first to 
 make." 
 
 " That was just the way I felt when I came South, a 
 poor, penniless dry-goods clerk. I had my v»'hole for- 
 tune mapped out — was to work and save until I got a 
 little capital, then go back to New York, find me a wife 
 and settle dovrn. Well, I kept my purpose intact not 
 quite six months before 1 concluded that I could find a 
 wife and home good enough right here." 
 
 " I expect it is different with Mr. AYyndship," re- 
 marked his wife pleasantly. " Doubtless he has already 
 made a choice and left her back in Penns3dvania." 
 
 " Oh, no ; I am still ' heart-whole and fancy-free.' 
 But my first duty is to my mother. I have set my heart 
 on making, somewhere in the South, if I find a better 
 opening here for the practice of my profession, a com- 
 fortable home, where she can spend the remainder of 
 her daj'S with me." 
 
 " A most laudable ambition, Mr. Wyndship," she re- 
 plied, with an approving smile, "and I doubt not but 
 what you will meet with the success you deserve.' ' 
 
 *'Keveitli9less, I do not withdraw my prediction," 
 
BELLEVIEW. 29 
 
 Persisted Mr. Martin. " Why, my wife, there," he con- 
 tinued, with a good-humored kiugh, *' is a most invet- 
 erate match-maker, and I will wager a ' thrip' that she 
 is already pondering in her mind which of her young 
 lady acquaintances she will select for you." 
 
 " You ought to ask him who selected his wife?" Mrs. 
 Martin retorted, " who acted in the capacity of 
 match-maker for him ?" 
 
 " It must have been some one with excellent judg- / 
 ment." j 
 
 " It was a very good old friend, if her skin was 
 black. An old negro woman belonging to my em- 
 ployer took quite a fancy to me soon after my arrival 
 South. It was part of her duties to clean up my room 
 at the store where I slept, and we soon got in the way 
 of having little confidential chats occasionally. Well, 
 one day she told me that she had some advice to give 
 me, and that was to get married. I laughed and told 
 her that I wasn't able to support a wife ; besides, I 
 didn't believe anybody would have me. ' Young Mas- 
 ser,' she says, ' thar is gwine to be er young lady at 
 oursers' house next week, and you jist sit yer cap for her, 
 and I tells yer, yer'll never 'gret it.' Well, the next 
 week came, and the young lady with it, and, to cut my 
 tale short, it wasn't very long before my opinion of 
 Aunt Lizzie's judgment went up several degrees. I con- 
 cluded I could not do better than to follow her ad- 
 vice," nodding towards his wife. 
 
 ' ' I am sati.sfied you could not have followed better 
 advice, and if Mrs. Martin were to trouble herself in 
 selecting me a wife, it would not be want of confidence 
 in her judgment on my part, that would prevent the 
 match." 
 
 " My husband delights in accusing me of match- 
 making, but even if I was ever so much disposed that 
 wa.y I could do nothing just now for the want of mate- 
 rial. There are very few young ladies in this neighbor- 
 hood, and consequently, Mr. Wyndship, I can do noth- 
 ing for you in that line. We had two or three mar- 
 riages last winter and spring that exhausted the supply, 
 so you see my occupation is gone." 
 
 '' You forget your two most particular pets. Misses 
 Gachet and Owens." 
 
 ^' Oh I the former is already mortgaged property, I 
 
30 THE SCHOOL TRUSTEES. ^ 
 
 suspect — at least, Charley Hurst would object lo any 
 interference there, and as for Elma — she is inclined to 
 have an opinion of her own in such matters, and might 
 not prove as docile as Aunt Lizzie's subject." 
 
 " So you see, Mr. Wyndship, there is but one choice 
 left 3^ou. I told you my wife was already taking stock 
 of the supply, and making a selection. Well, it will 
 take good generalship to win, but the prize will be 
 'w^orth the candle.' " 
 
 '^ As I am in no hurry and can very well afford to 
 wait, would it not be better to delay the matter until 
 Mrs. Martin's stock on hand is replenished?" said the 
 young man, as he noticed an expression, half of amuse- 
 ment and half annoyance, on the lady's face. 
 
 " It is hardly probable that she will ever have an ar- 
 ticle of more value, if beauty, wealth and sense are to 
 be regarded." 
 
 " Leaving out those qualities even, and she is still a 
 girl to be admired," said his wife warmly. 
 
 '^ Yes, but she would not receive near so much admir- 
 ation if she were deprived of those fascinations," said 
 Mr. Martin, as they arose from the the table. 
 
 As they passed into the hall he continued, ''The 
 board of school trustees wishes you to meet them at the 
 academy this morning, but it is too early yet. Have a 
 seat on the piazza while I attend to one or two little 
 matters, after which I will walk up there with you. If 
 you feel inclined to read, you will find some papers and 
 books in there," pointing to the door of a room, " also 
 writing materials, should you wish to write. Do not 
 stand on ceremony, but act just as if you were at home. 
 My business will not detain me long." 
 
 The village of Somerville was situated on a high, 
 sandy ridge, that divided the river-lands on one side 
 from the pine-woods on the other. The river was some 
 four miles distant to the east, its course being nearly 
 due south. With the exception of the lowlands, or 
 " bottom" proper, the country between was more or less 
 broken, and where not cleared and in cultivation, was 
 covered with a forest of oak, hickory and similar growth, 
 with a scattering of short-leaved pine interspersed. 
 These were considered the best farming lands in that 
 part of the State, and were owned by substantial farm- 
 ers or wealthy planters, forming in every respect, a 
 
BELLEVIEW. 31 
 
 striking contrast with the pine country to the west. 
 This latter was proverbial for its barrenness, and at 
 that time was considered of little value except as a stock 
 range or game preserve. It was thinly settled by poor 
 people, living in the most primitive manner, depending 
 principally upon the two occupations of hunting and 
 stock-raising for a livelihood. The malaria that pre- 
 vails on all Southern lowlands made a residence near the 
 river undesirable for the whites. This fact probably 
 caused the existence of Somerville, whose high and dry 
 elevation relieved it of all miasmatic influences. The 
 owners of plantations on the river bought small tracts 
 on the ridge for residences, leaving their plantations in 
 charge of overseers. In due time the necessary 
 number of merchants, mechanics and professional men 
 followed, and so the little village was gradually 
 formed. 
 
 One of the first needs felt by the little community, 
 was some educational advantages for their children. In 
 response to this want they built a house, and resolved to 
 establish a good common school, where their sons and 
 daughters could be prepared for entrance into the higher 
 colleges and universities ; or in cases where it did not 
 suit the parents to patronize these institutions, where 
 they could receive a good English education. This reso- 
 lution was highly commendable, but owing to the pecu- 
 liar habits and disposition of the Southern people, it was 
 never satisfactorily carried out. Bad management, 
 careless indifference, and a dislike to interfere in a mat- 
 ter which was everybody's business, caused the enter- 
 prise to be neglected, wiien it should have received the 
 closest attention. Their wealth rendered the richer 
 families independent of local means of education ; conse- 
 quently, they felt no vital interest in its success ; while 
 all were influenced by that inclination for each to paddle 
 his own canoe, which so materially affected Southern 
 thought and society before the war. At any rate, the 
 school dragged on in a slipshod style, changing instruc- 
 tors nearly every year, and woefully failing to accom- 
 plish the good that was intended, or that it was reason- 
 able to expect. 
 
 But this year there had come a change. One of those 
 periodic spurts at reformation that came every once and 
 awhile took possession of "pater familias," and they 
 
32 THE SCHOOL TRUSTEES. 
 
 awoke to the importance of " turning over a new leaf '* 
 in this matter. A revival of interest was excited in the 
 neighborhood, and a new board of trustees was placed 
 in control, with the understanding that a radical change 
 from the old methods would be adopted. As one step 
 towards this proposed reformation, the majority of the 
 new board decided to eschew all native teachers, and to 
 employ one fresh from the North ; arguing, that his 
 (supposed) greater energy, as well as familiarity with 
 the improved methods prevailhig in that more enterpris- 
 ing section, would supply the necessary elements for 
 success. In the carrying out of this policy, their choice 
 fell upon Wyndship. 
 
 The latter had accidentally made the acquaintance of 
 Judge Alston, while he (Judge A.) was visiting Penn- 
 sylvania during the preceding spring. The Judge did 
 not live at Somerville, or the vicinity ; but his son-in- 
 law, Mr. Harley, was one of the new trustees, and 
 through him he learned of their intention to employ a 
 Yankee teacher. Remembering the young Pennsylvanian 
 — of whom he had formed a very favorable opinion — 
 and of the desire he had expressed to come South, he at 
 once recommended him as the very person they needed. 
 Possibly the Judge was partly influenced by the prevail- 
 ing animosity towards New England Yankees, and 
 wanted to make certain that his grandchildren were not 
 taught by one of the hated tribe. Pennsylvania had not 
 at that time become the banner Republican State. On 
 the contrary, it was the home of President Buchanan, 
 who was held in high esteem throughout the South, and 
 was therefore entitled to special consideration at their 
 hands. Be that as it may, the brief correspondence that 
 followed the recommendation, proved satisfactory, and 
 Wyndship was engaged to take charge of the Somerville 
 school. 
 
 The academy was a two-story building — the lower 
 story being used for school purposes, and the upper as a 
 Masonic lodge. It was situated on a hill, a little ways 
 out from the village, and as the new teacher, accompanied 
 by Mr. Martin, approached it that warm morning, he 
 was favorably impressed with the new field of his labors. 
 
 A fine grove of oak trees partly surrounded the house, 
 and the dense shade they made, looked the more inviting 
 after their warm walk. The spacious play-ground was 
 
BELLEVIEW. 33 
 
 enclosed by a plank fence, and was divided by a cross 
 fence of pickets into two parts — one part, tlie shadiest, 
 being generally set aside for the exclusive use of the 
 girls, and the other for the boys. The fact that healthy 
 exercise and physical comfort were of great assistance 
 to mental effort, had been either obeyed by accident, or 
 was fully appreciated by the fathers of the community 
 in making their selection of a location. 
 
 '' I will tell you something of the trustees — ^what kind 
 of men they are," said Mr. Martin, during tlieir walk, 
 ^' so that you will not be altogether at a loss how to take 
 them. Mr. Slaton, the senior member of the board, is 
 the one that will give j^ou the most trouble. He was 
 bitterly opposed to employing a Northern teacher, and, 
 I expect, would not be loth to break the engagement 
 now, if he could. He is an extremist — a ' fire-eater.' 
 He hates, or pretends to hate, all Yankeedom, and wants 
 a Chinese wall built between the two sections. Politi- 
 cally, he swears by Robert Toombs and William L. 
 Yancey, and thinks Alexander Stephens ought to be 
 banished from the State. In neighborhood matters, he 
 is one of the ' rule or ruin ' kind, and will not pull ex- 
 cept his way. I do not know what he was made a trus- 
 tee for, unless it was to have every element represented ; 
 or may be they thought by putting him in the lead, they 
 might get him to work. So you see your full stock of 
 patience will probably be called into service. 
 
 *' Major Dismukes, the second member in seniority, 
 is a rather pompous, dignified gentleman, extremely po- 
 lite in manners, and a great stickler for forms and cere- 
 monies. He always has some hobby that he rides to 
 death. His present crotchet, I think, is improved meth- 
 ods of education, and on that point it might be well for 
 you to humor him some. Outside of this, you will find 
 him perfectly harmless, and a clever, honorable gentle- 
 man, reasonable in his requirements. 
 
 " Mr. Harley is the last, but not the least ; in fact, I 
 should have mentioned him first, as he is really the head 
 of the board. He is a plain-spoken, sensible man, with 
 plenty of determination, and entirely reliable. If he 
 likes you, and I apprehend he will, you can rely on him 
 to back you against a thousand Slatons. Secure his and 
 the Major's support, and you will have no further 
 trouble." 
 
34 THE SCHOOL TRUSTEES. 
 
 *' Thank you for the information and advice. I will 
 try to profit by both. Forewarned is forearmed, j^ouknow." 
 
 They had but a short time to wait before the three 
 trustees arrived, and after some desultory conversation, 
 the business of the meeting was taken up. The matter 
 of salary and terms had already been agreed upon, but 
 to this Mr. Slaton demurred, contending that the first 
 was too high, and the last too binding on tlje board. A 
 much smaller sum, he insisted, was liberal enough, and 
 as much as they could pay. 
 
 *' But we made Mr. Wyndship this offer, and he ac- 
 cepted," interposed Mr. Harley. " That part of the 
 contract is settled. Was that not your understanding, 
 Major?" 
 
 "Certainly, sir. That was the remuneration we 
 tendered Mr. Wyndship for his services, and, as honor- 
 able gentlemen, we must abide by the terms of the con- 
 tract." 
 
 " Well, you're both against me, and I'll have to give 
 in, but it warn't my understanding." 
 
 " We have paid the same salary to other teachers, 
 some of whom were mighty sorry ones ; and if our young 
 friend here does his duty, as I hope and believe he will, 
 I shall not begrudge him a cent of his pay." 
 
 " It's more than was paid Parson Pruette," persisted 
 Mr. Slaton. 
 
 ' ' I consider Parson Pruette as high at one-tenth of 
 the money." 
 
 "Ah, sir ; that is the reason why the cause of educa- 
 tion is at so low an ebb in our heaven-favored country. 
 The proportion of Pruettes amongst the instructors of 
 our children has heretofore been extremely too large, 
 and it is high time that we discarded all such, with their 
 old fogy methods," said the Major, rising and throwing 
 himself into position, as if he intended to deliver a set 
 speech to his audience. 
 
 " I think Parson Pruette was a mighty good teacher, 
 myself. He suited me mighty well," interrupted the 
 senior member, doggedly. " If j^ou two are bent on 
 paying that fancy price, you can just go ahead, but 
 count me out, if you please. It's entirely too much to 
 suit me, these hard times." 
 
 " Why, sir, what better investment can you possibly 
 make of your means? What more lucrative, or more 
 
BELLEVIEW. S5 
 
 commendable use crin you make of your money 
 than in dispelling the dark clouds of ignorance that en- 
 velop our land, and in letting the glorious light of 
 knowledge shine on the benighted intellects around?'* 
 The Major's periods were not as sonorous as he had ex- 
 pected, so clearing his throat, he commenced again : 
 *' Here we are, at least a generation behind our brethren 
 of the North in the most important interests that could 
 possibly affect us as a people. While they are ever on 
 the qui vive for every new idea, and every improved 
 text-book, we keep on in the same old rut, with the 
 same old treatises and the same old methods, as if there 
 was no such thing as progTess. Instead of keeping our 
 place in the vanguard of ci^'ilization, we are rapidly 
 falling behind, destined without a change to be soon 
 distanced by the enlightened world." 
 
 "Enlightened fiddlesticks! I don't believe in any 
 sich doctrine as that. If we would stay at home, 'n 
 not be runnin' North after every new-fangled Yankee 
 trick, we'd be a sight better off, I think. The Southern 
 people have got just as much sense and as much civiliz- 
 zation as any other folks, and if we'd stop runnin' down 
 home things and home customs, and goin' crazy over 
 everj^thing north of the Mason and Dixon line, we'd get 
 along weU enough." 
 
 "Why, sir, just such doctrines as that have been 
 preached by the enemies of progress ever since the di- 
 vine light of knowledge first began to dawn upon a be- 
 nighted world. Against just such arguments as you are 
 using science and learning have had to battle since ante- 
 diluvian periods, but thanks to that thirst for knowledge 
 which a beneficial Jehovah has implanted in every true 
 Caucasian breast, the powers of ignorance and darkness 
 have been met and defeated on every field." (In his en- 
 thusiasm the Major forgot to be accurate.) *' Shall we 
 of the South sit supinely down, hugging to om- bosoms 
 the blind prejudices and superstitions of a dead past 
 while the battle rages around? Would you, Mr. Wynd- 
 ship, as a representative of your wide-awake section, 
 advise such a course ?" 
 
 Notwithstanding a feeling of sensitive emban-ass- 
 ment caused by the unpleasant manner in which the dis- 
 cussion commenced, Wyndship could not help feeling 
 considerably amused, particularly when he noticed how 
 
^6 THE SCHOOL TRUSTEES. 
 
 much Mr. Martin was enjoying it, and how much Mr. 
 Haiie}^ was not. The orator's sudden appeal, however, 
 rather took him by surprise. 
 
 '' Not exactly, Major. We should always be ready 
 to receive and to utilize any genuine improvement in 
 mind, as well as in all other vocations of life. But 
 Gvery new idea, every new departure is not always an im- 
 provement on the old way, and sometimes it requires 
 fine powers of discrimination to distinguish the bogus 
 from the genuine." 
 
 ••' Yes, and about nine-tenths of them are bogus,*' 
 said Mr. Slaton, with a sneer. '' The very worst kind 
 of humbugs." 
 
 *' Ah, sir, would you have me leave my grain in the 
 field because a few tares had sprung up in its midst ? " 
 asked the Major, addressing AYyndship. 
 
 " By no means. I think it better to be humbugged oc- 
 casionally than to live like a turtle in a shell." 
 
 ''Well, Ray's 'rithmetic and Murray's grammar is 
 good enough for me. They're what I studied when I 
 went to school, and — and is what I want my childi'en 
 to study now." 
 
 ' ' Do you think he got much of the grammar ?" Mr. 
 Martin whispered aside to the j^oung man. 
 
 " Suppose we defer this discussion to some other 
 time," broke in Mr. Harley, as the Major again opened 
 his mouth, " and finish the business before us. The sal- 
 ary a.nd terms I have mentioned are in accordance with 
 your understanding, are they not, Mr. Wyndship ? " 
 
 " Yes, but—" 
 
 " Well, we may consider that point settled, and — " 
 
 " Then I must git you to excuse me from sarvin' any 
 longer on the board," interrupted Mr. Slaton. " I 
 hain't a goin' to obligate myself to pay sich a price, nor 
 vote to make my neighbors pay it. You 'n the Major 
 kin just go ahead, but count me out." 
 
 '' I am very sorry to hear you say that, Mr. Slaton. 
 I—" 
 
 '' Why, my dear sir," broke in the Major, " you will 
 not — surely you will not interpose and be an obstacle in 
 the way of the improvements we contemplate carrying 
 out in our school ? Stop — consider — do not antagon- 
 ize the best interests of the young minds in our com- 
 munity." 
 
BELLEYTEW. 37 
 
 ^' I'll not antagonize nothing that I think is for the 
 good of the neighborhood, but I can't sign that con- 
 tract." 
 
 Mr. Harley's face darkened somewhat, but his voice 
 and manner remained unchanged. " I thought the mat- 
 ter was fully understood before I wrote to ]Mr. Wynd- 
 ship, making him the offer. ^Ve three talked the matter 
 over, and you made no objection to the price. It is 
 very much to be regretted that we can't pull together in 
 this business — it would not only be more agreeable, 
 but probably much better for the school." 
 
 "I can't agree to them figgers — you '11 haf to go 
 ahead without me," was the uncompromising reply. 
 
 " Gentlemen," said AYj^ndship, with quite a red face, 
 " I was not prepared for this. I thought the question 
 of salarj^ was fully understood and agreed upon before 
 I accepted your offer, but, rather than cause dissension 
 among you, and in the neighborhood, I will withdraw 
 my pretensions to the school. Possibly you can agree 
 better with some one else." 
 
 During the silence which followed this, Mr. Harley, 
 vexed and impatient now, drummed with his fingers 
 nervousl}^ on the desk at which he was seated. The 
 Major, still standing, and with anus folded, gazed on 
 the others with a blank expression of dismay and sur- 
 prise on his hitherto complacent countenance, while 
 Slaton fidgeted in his seat. 
 
 " Mr. Slaton, j^ou do not mean that j^ou will not pat- 
 ronize the school?" asked Mr. Martin, quietly. 
 
 He hesitated before answering, and Harley, noticing 
 the hesitation, smothered his vexation and said : 
 
 " I have made a careful calculation, and with only 
 three-fourths of the pupils in attendance that we have 
 reason to expect, we can easil}^ pay this salary, and not 
 charge any higher rate per scholar than we've been pay- 
 ing hitherto. Indeed, I would be perfectly willing to 
 assume all responsibility under the contract, with the 
 understanding that every pupil pays the customary tui- 
 tion of the county." 
 
 ' ' I think that you have some children who ought to 
 be going to school," again suggested Mr. Martin, pleas- 
 antly. 
 
 " Major Dismukes here will join me, I believe, in 
 agreeing to release you from all responsibility as to the 
 
38 THE SCHOOL TRUSTEES. 
 
 salary, and in guaranteeing that you will not have to 
 pay any more per head than you paid Parson Pruette. 
 \yon't you, Major?" 
 
 " Certainly — certainly, I will." 
 
 "Well," said Slaton, fairly cornered, "I reckon I'll 
 send one or two — a part of the time, anyhow. I'd 
 'bout made up my mind to send my oldest gal to Macon, 
 but — I'll see about it." 
 
 With this concession the others seemed to be content, 
 and the discussion turned on minor matters, all of which 
 were speedily settled to the satisfaction of both contract- 
 ing parties. Wyudship, supposing that the business of 
 the meeting was over, waited for the movement to ad- 
 journ, but there still appeared to be something on Mr. 
 Harley's mind. He recommenced his drumming on the 
 desk, looking out first one window and then another. 
 At length, as if wishing to get through with a disagree- 
 able job, he said ; 
 
 " Mr. Wyndship, there is one other question I wish 
 to ask you, and my doing so, I hope, will not make you 
 think that I am prompted by any impertinent or partisan 
 feeling. It is in regard to your political views. Of 
 course I appreciate the fact that a man's opinions on 
 that subject are his own, and for v/hich he is responsible 
 to no one under our republican government. I do not 
 wish to question your privilege in that respect in the 
 least ; still, as you are to occupy a confidential position 
 in our little community, doubtless it would be best — 
 might save misapprehension in the future, to have a can- 
 did expression from you on the subject." 
 
 '' I have no objection in the world to answering your 
 question," was the prompt reply. " I am a Democrat, 
 and what few times I have voted, have been with that 
 party. I have not come south," he added, smilingly, 
 " with the intention of leading an anti-slavery crusade." 
 
 '' That is enough — I am satisfied. It is understood 
 that the school will — " 
 
 *'Mr. Wyndship," interrupted Slaton, " do you be- 
 lieve it is right or wrong to own niggers ? " 
 
 " To give you an honest and candid reply, I think that 
 is owing to circumstances and to locality." 
 
 ''How?" 
 
 *' That it would be right here in Georgia, and wrong 
 in Pennsylvania." 
 
BELLEVIEW. 39 
 
 " How do you make that? " 
 
 " Slavery already exists here in Georgia as an estab- 
 lished institution ; it is the will of your people that it 
 should exist, and probably its continuance, at least for 
 the present, is better for the good of the country ; there- 
 fore it is right. It does not exist in Pennsylvania, and 
 the people in that State are opposed to its being estab- 
 lished there ; consequently, to attempt it, would be 
 wrong." 
 
 " Don't you believe that I have a perfect right to carry 
 my niggers into any State or Territory under this govern- 
 ment?" 
 
 " And there keep and hold them as slaves?" 
 
 ''Yes — ain't they my property? And ain't it the 
 business of this government to protect every man's 
 property ?" 
 
 ''But they are not recognized as property in the free 
 States." 
 
 " It makes no difference ; they are still my property." 
 
 " No sir ; I don't believe that you have any such right. 
 I am too much of a Democrat to accept that theory or 
 supposition, as right." 
 
 "Too much of a Democrat? I'd like to know why 
 that ain't good sound Democratic doctrine ?" 
 
 "Because it is at variance with my ideas of State 
 rights, and of local self-government, which I have been 
 taught was one of the cardinal principles of the Dem- 
 ocratic party. While I grant you the privilege of hold- 
 ing slaves in Georgia, if you, the people of Georgia, see 
 fit, we, the citizens of Pennsylvania, claim the right of 
 saying the institution shall not exist among us, and that 
 you shall not bring your negroes and hold them as slaves 
 within our borders, thereby establishing slavery there 
 against the will of the people. That is my understanding 
 of the doctrine of State's rights." 
 
 " Then, sir, I am sorry to say it, but I can't send my 
 children to your school. I have said it — and I will 
 stick to it — that I'll never let any man teach my chil- 
 dren who denies me the right to take my property any- 
 where under this government that I see fit. I am sorry 
 it's so, but I can't help it. Mr. Harley and Major I^is- 
 ^lukes here seem determined on haring you, but I, for 
 one, can't send to you." 
 
 " You are at perfect liberty to act as you please in t^ 3 
 
40 THE SCHOOL TRUSTEES. 
 
 matter," was the spirited reply. Then turning to the 
 other two, Wyndship continued : " As it is very evident 
 that- 1 will not suit Mr. Slaton as a teacher, I will with- 
 draw my application. You can soon secure the sei'\^ices 
 of some one who will give better satisfaction all around 
 — some one whom the entire neighborhood can patronize 
 without division. While my necessities make the sit- 
 uation very desirable, in a pecuniary way, still were I 
 ten times more dependent than I am, I would not wil- 
 lingly become a bone of dissension in this community. 
 Neither will I assume a character, or pretend to hold 
 opinions not in accordance with my honest convictions. 
 Therefore, we had better drop the matter right here." 
 
 "I am perfectly willing to 'drop the matter right 
 here,' with the understanding that you commence school 
 Monday morning," said Mr. Harley, quietly, at the same 
 time picking up a pen and writing his name to the con- 
 tract lying on the desk before him. "What say you. 
 Major?" he asked, pushing the pen and paper towards his 
 colleague. The latter seated himself, carefully wiped and 
 adjusted his glasses, and signed the instrument before an- 
 swering. Rising, he turned to Wyndship, and with a 
 bow and impressive wave of the hand, said : 
 
 ''I am not willing, Mr. Wyndship, for this commu- ■ 
 nity to be deprived of your valuable sen^ices. I regard 
 this little discussion on politics as being unnecessary 
 and foreign to the subject." 
 
 "Well," cried Slaton, angrily, turning towards the 
 door, " I might as well leave, I reckon, seeing that you 
 two are bent on goin' ahead, anyhow. Time will show 
 which of us is right — when the abolitionists free all 
 your niggers, and ruin the country." 
 
 " Sorry that you can't agree and go with us," said Mr. 
 Harley, coolly, without looking around. " Mr. AYynd- 
 ship, will you please sign your name here?" he added, 
 almost in the same breath. " I have the contract in du- 
 plicate, one of which you can take." 
 
 " But I don't like to — " 
 
 "Oh, hush," remonstrated Mr. Martin, in a whisper. 
 
 "Don't you see that the other two are glad to be rid 
 of him?" 
 
 :n 
 
BELLE VIEW. 41 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 COLONEL GACHET DISCOURSES POLITICALLY. 
 
 Wyndship's pride and judgment both rebelled against 
 the idea of accepting the school, when he saw there was 
 no longer any chance of agreement among the trustees. 
 He believed the dissension would extend to the patrons, 
 thereby causing an unpleasant division in the commu- 
 nity. Under these circumstances, he could not expect 
 the degree of success that would satisfy his own con- 
 science, and besides, his own position would not be at 
 all agreeable. The other two trustees, hov/ever, did not 
 take the same view of the matter, and showed no hesi- 
 tation in closing the contract. They regarded Mr. 
 Slaton's defection as of slight importance, in fact, rather 
 as a benefit than an injury to the school, as his partici- 
 pation in its management would be an obstacle to har- 
 monious action. Mr. Martin expressed the same opinion, 
 assuring him that he need apprehend no trouble on that 
 account, but rather congratulate himself on the fortunate 
 riddance. Consequently, influenced by these opinions, 
 he at length reluctantly accepted, with the reservation, 
 that should the feelings of the patrons, or a strong mi- 
 nority of them, prove to be adverse to him as a teacher, 
 and refuse to patronize him, then he should have the 
 right of withdrawing. 
 
 As this was Saturday, and his labors were to begin on 
 Monday, he felt the importance of securing a boarding 
 place at once. Consequently, after dinner, when he and 
 his host had repaired to the customary, seats on the porch, 
 he broached the subject by asking his advice. 
 
 " Do you wish board in a private family, or would you 
 prefer the tavern down here ?" 
 
 " In a private family, by all means." 
 
 '' Yes, I suppose it would be be better, and pleasanter. 
 Well, there are several places where you could get board 
 that would be convenient enough to the academy, (all 
 Scmerville called the school-house *' the academy), but 
 here comes the ' Madam,' suppose we ask her advice ? " 
 
 The question was presented to Mrs. Martin, who had 
 joined them. 
 
 *' Suppose Mr. Wyndship remains with us next week," 
 
42 COLONEL GACHET DISCOURSES POLITICALLY. 
 
 she suggested. *' That will give him time to look around 
 and get acquainted." 
 
 " But I feel like I have trespassed on your good nature 
 too long already." 
 
 " Oh, no, you hav n't. We — " 
 
 *' If you never commit any greater trespass, young 
 man, j^our chances of eternal happiness will be very good," 
 interrupted Mr. Martin, dryly. "But I see you are in 
 great danger of falling into one pernicious habit — one 
 that has been a stumbling block to the verdant young in 
 all ages." 
 
 ""What is that?" queried Wyndship, hardly knowing 
 how to take hun. 
 
 " Not accepting good advice when given you. I al- 
 ways did when I was a young man." 
 
 " So I perceive — at least on one occasion." 
 
 " Well, gentlemen, I thought my advice was asked for 
 in earnest," said Mrs. Martin, with mock dignity that 
 made the other two laugh. 
 
 " I was in earnest, Mrs. Martin, very much in earnest." 
 
 " I think my proposal the best plan, then. Stay with 
 us next week, until 3^ou get better acquainted, or until 
 you find a pleasanter place." 
 
 " I can not hope to find a pleasanter place." 
 
 " In that case, you might as well remain with us ; but 
 you will soon get tired of the companionship of two old 
 people, lilie ourselves. It will be entirely too dull. 
 When you get tired, however, you can easily change." 
 
 " No danger of that. It is j^ou that will tire of me. 
 Do you really mean that you will board me ? " 
 
 "Yes, — until you get tired of so dull a home, and 
 find a place you like better." 
 
 " You are making a bad trade, Mrs. Martin," laughed 
 Wyndship. " If I am to stay here until I find a home 
 I like better, j'OU will never get rid of me. I know that 
 you will have to drive me away in the end." 
 
 *' We sometimes get a little lonesome by ourselves," 
 said Mr. Martin, dropping his light tone, " consequently 
 cm- offer to board you is a selfish one at least. We like 
 the company of young people, and it cannot always be 
 had for the asking. Providence has deemed it best to 
 deny us children — even adopted ones, as a little girl we 
 took to raise some years ago died soon after her seventh 
 
BELLEVIEW. 43 
 
 birthday. So you see that we are making no sacrifice in 
 boarding you," 
 
 A period of silence followed this speech, during which 
 Mrs. Martin left them to look after some household mat- 
 ters. AV^mdship was the first to break the silence. 
 
 " I have always understood," he said, " that South- 
 ern society was very exclusive, and I was told before I 
 left home that I might expect to be ostracised by the 
 better class — that I might prepare myself for a lonely 
 time as long as I remained here, or until I became the 
 fortunate possessor of a few slaves." 
 
 " Did you believe it?" 
 
 " I hardly knew whether to believe it or not. Judge 
 Alston was the only Southern gentleman whose ac- 
 quaintance I had ever made, and I found him very 
 pleasant and sociably inclined, although I imagined that 
 I could see in his manner some little appreciation of the 
 fact that he was a Gentleman of the South." 
 
 ' ' Doubtless you did ; I do not believe any of them 
 are ashamed of it." 
 
 " But was my information correct?" 
 
 '^ If you had waited six months you would not have 
 asked so — I came very near saying so foolish a ques- 
 tion. I am Northern-born and raised — have never at- 
 tempted to disguise or suppress that fact, still I know 
 of no society in this State that would close their doors 
 on me should I choose to enter." 
 
 " Yes, but you have long since probably gained ad- 
 mittance into the charmed circle." 
 
 " Young man, you talk nonsense. ' Charmed circle,' 
 the mischief ! there is no charmed circle. We claim the 
 privilege of choosing our own associates — maybe we 
 are more independent in that respect than any people 
 on the globe, but there is no high Chinese wall around 
 Uo I assure you. Every land and every 'people have 
 their different strata of society, so have we. Every- 
 where wealth has its power and its privileges just as it 
 has here, but in no country is it less considered as a 
 necessary qualification for admission into good society. 
 A person of good character, who knows how to act as a 
 gentleman should, is never ' ostracised.' If he hasn't a 
 dollar in the world, but has the mental and moral quali- 
 fications necessary to make his company agreeable, he 
 can enter houses and homes where the wealthy-born has 
 
44 COLONEL GACHET DISCOURSES POLITICALLY. 
 
 never dared to venture. At least, such has been my ex- 
 perience. I came to Milledgeville, the capital of the 
 State, with nothing but a letter vouching for my honesty 
 and moral character, and I was received and made wel- 
 come in every family I cared to visit. My wife belonged 
 to one of the first families in Georgia, and while I was, 
 doubtless, not the first choice of her parents, still no se- 
 rious objection was made to our union, and since that 
 happy event I have never received from any of her kin- | 
 dred the least intimation that they regarded her marriage I 
 as a ' mesalliance.'" 
 
 '' That was thirty years ago — has not time, or rather, 
 has not the institution of slavery produced a change — 
 a different condition and feeling in society since then? 
 It seems to me that the tendency of the latter would be 
 to widely separate the different classes and grades of 
 society — get up a condition somevf hat similar to the old 
 feudal system." 
 
 " Convince a man against his will, 
 And he is of the same opinion still." 
 
 quoted Mr. Martin, with a mock exhibition of de- 
 spair. 
 
 " Oh, no ; I am open to conviction — I only want to 
 know the truth." 
 
 ''Time has wrought a change, I believe, in one re- 
 spect. Cultivation of mind and refinement of manners 
 is more regarded than formerly, and it is natural that it 
 should be as the country grows older. But the people 
 of the South are thoroughly democratic, not only in their 
 party affiliations, but also in their social laws and cus- 
 toms. Nowhere is there more freedom of individual 
 opinions and individual action, more laxity of conven- 
 tional laws, and less espionage as to private affairs." 
 
 ''You forget slavery," suggested Wyndship dryly. 
 " There is not much freedom of opinion on that subject, 
 eh?" 
 
 Mr. Martin colored as he perceived how neatly he 
 was cornered. 
 
 " More than you think," he hastily replied, " but that 
 is our one sore spot. Why, we have a man in this 
 neighborhood who was born and raised here, and who 
 owns slaves himself, that is, I dare say, as strong an 
 
BELLEVIEW. 45 
 
 abolitionist in sentiment as you can find in the North. 
 What do you say to that ? " 
 
 " That he must certainly be a great curiosity, or — " 
 
 "Or what?" 
 
 '' Has not the courage to live up to his convictions." 
 
 *' He has as much moral courage as any man, and I 
 believe if he thought freedom would benefit or make his 
 negroes any better or happier, he would emancipate 
 them to-morrow. You met the gentleman I allude tc/ 
 last evening — Dr. Hurst." | 
 
 Just then a buggy drove up to the gate and inter- 
 rupted their conversation. Col. Gachet got out, gave 
 some instructions to the negro boy who was driving him, 
 and then came in the gate. 
 
 " Speaking of Southern exclusiveness," said Mr. 
 Martin, "there comes the richest man in the county — 
 he was born rich — he can trace his ancestry back to the 
 Huguenots of France — his pride is so great that even 
 his friends laugh at it. Now, I predict two things : 
 First, that he remembers and acknowledges the intro- 
 duction 3^esterday ; secondly, that before he leaves he 
 will invite you to visit him at home, and — " but the 
 object of the remarks had come too close for Mr. ]Mar- 
 tin to finish his predictions, and he had to change them 
 to a "good evening," and an invitation to the new- 
 comer to " walk in." 
 
 The Colonel instantly verified the first prophecy by 
 shaking hands vrith Wyndship, and expressing a pleasure 
 in meeting him again, etc. Later on, after some con- 
 versation with Mr. Martin on some business, that was 
 evidently the principal object of his visit, he turned 
 again to the young man, and politely said : 
 
 " I presume, Mr. Wyndship, that j^ou are just from 
 the North, and that this is your first visit to our sec- 
 tion?" 
 
 The reply to this being in the aflSrmative, he con- 
 tinued : 
 
 Then it is too soon for me to put the stereotyped ques- 
 tion, " How do you like our country? " 
 
 " My impressions have been very pleasant so far." 
 
 "I trust and believe that they will continue to be 
 pleasant, sir. I apprehend that the longer you reside in 
 Georgia, and the better you become acquainted with the 
 people, the more highly you will be pleased." 
 
46 COLONEL GACHET DISCOURSES POLITICALLY. 
 
 '' I had just been giving some of his Yankee notions 
 and prejudices a cold-water bath when you came in," 
 said Mr. Martin. 
 
 " That is right, turn a stream of cold facts on his er- 
 roneous ideas and opinions until the dust is washed from 
 his eyes. "Why, he continued to Wyndship, "Mr. 
 Martin here came from the North himself, and no doubt 
 he was chock full and running over with prejudices 
 against us at first, but just see what a typical Southern 
 man we have made him." 
 
 "If Mr. Martin is the typical Southern man, then 
 what little prejudices I have — if I have any — are al- 
 ready conquered." 
 
 " He may be a little above the average," replied the 
 Colonel, with a wave of the hand to silence that gentle- 
 man's protestations, "in fact, I regard him as much 
 above the average. You must know that w^e have good 
 and bad in every community." 
 
 " Of course," assented the stranger. 
 
 " But I think, and I doubt not but what your coming 
 experience will bear me out in the assertion, that the bad 
 element constitutes a smaller proportion among our peo- 
 ple than among yours of the North." 
 
 " I will be glad to find it so, but you must excuse me 
 from admitting as much at present." 
 
 " Certainly, patriotism is a noble sentiment — one 
 that commands the respect of all right thinking people. 
 We cannot expect you to admit a fact derogatory to 
 your own section — at least, not until the ties of adop- 
 tion have become as strong as those of nativity. What 
 state are you from, Mr. Wyndship ? " 
 
 The assumption that the people of Georgia were better 
 than those of the North rather nettled the young man 
 for the moment, but controlling his desire to dispute the 
 proposition, he answered politely : 
 
 " From Penns^dvania." 
 
 "Ah, that is a great State — one that has contributed 
 some able statesmen to this government." 
 
 "Yes, I think Pennsylvania has had — and has yet 
 for that matter — many sons of whom she can very well 
 afford to feel proud." 
 
 " Undoubtedly. From the dark days of Seventy-six 
 down to the present time, she can present a long list of 
 
BELLEVIEW. 47 
 
 illustrious names, and amoug them the name of James 
 Buchannan is not the least." 
 
 "You are a warm admirer of President Buchannan, 
 then?" 
 
 " I am. Holding as I do so strongly to the true prin- 
 ciples of the Democratic party, and zealous as I am of 
 the rights of my section, I cannot but admire one who 
 has so ably maintained the one and defended the 
 otlier." 
 
 " As a natural consequence, then, you are a supporter 
 of Breckemidge and Kane?" Thinldng that he had 
 struck a representative Southern man, Wyndship wished 
 to draw him out. 
 
 "You are correct, most heartily do I support that 
 ticket. 1 regard the so-called Cincinnati platform, 
 with the addition of the resolution offered in the Senate 
 last Februarj^, by Mr. Davis of Mississippi, as the true 
 doctrine of Democracy, and I hope to see them triumph- 
 antly vindicated next November by the American peo- 
 ple." 
 
 " I m.ust differ with you in respect to the resolution, 
 Colonel. That was a most unfortunate move on the 
 part of the Southern Democrats, and I fear that it will 
 have a disastrous effect oil our chances of electing a 
 Democrat this fall. We had better stuck to ' Squatter 
 Sovereignty,' and let each territory decide the question 
 of slavery for itself." 
 
 " Never sir. ' Squatter Sovereignty ' is the most de- 
 lusive price of demagogism that ever originated in the 
 political world. Like the apples of Asphaltum, it is fair 
 and pleasant to the eye, but ashes to our taste. Under 
 the specious plea of self-government, it virtually debars 
 we slave-owners from all participation in that vast terri- 
 tory acquired in common by our joint arms and our gen- 
 eral treasury. It says to us that contributed our share 
 of the money and more than our share of the blood that 
 bought it : ' stand back, you shall have no part and lot 
 in its benefits.' Did not the South nobly sustain her 
 part in that bloody war that added to our limits the vast 
 region comprised in the State of California, and the Ter- 
 ritories of Arizona, New Mexico, Colorado and Utah? 
 Shall the Southern people, whose friends and kindred, 
 whose fathers and brothers, laid down their lives on the 
 blood-stained fields of Palo Alto, Resacca De La 
 
48 COLONEL GACHET DISCOURSES POLITICALLY. 
 
 Palma, and Buena Vista, who offered up their lives so 
 freely in their country's cause before the walls of Mont- 
 erey and Churubusco, and on the heights of Chapultepec, 
 shall they, I say, be denied the common protection of 
 the law, when they move their property into this con- 
 quered territory ? Do you call that justice ?" 
 
 " You forget. Colonel, that many of the most promi- 
 nent men of this section have been committed to the doc- 
 trine you assail, in fact, have advocated it even before 
 the acquisition of this territory. Your own Alex. Steph- 
 ens is a strong believer in ' Squatter Sovereignty.' 
 We Democrats of the North, aware of the rapid growth 
 of the Republican, or Abolition party, think that a con- 
 servative course, or at least a strict adherence to past 
 declarations of policy the best and safest at present." 
 
 '' That is an erroneous idea. The stronger grows the 
 Abolition party, the more determined we should be in 
 demanding what is justly our due. We must meet 
 threats with defiance, and injustice with louder demands 
 for our rights. It is not because that we are pressed 
 for room — that we have not now enough land on which 
 to employ our slaves, for there are large tracts in Flor- 
 ida, Arkansas and Texas, aye, in Alabama, Mississippi 
 and Louisianna, not yet occupied ; but it is the principle 
 involved. All that we demand is equal rights and equal 
 protection under the laws. ' Squatter Sovereignty' does 
 not give us this, and therefore we repudiate it. Would 
 you have the bloody scenes in Kansas re-enancted in 
 every territory ? Would you force us to protect our- 
 selves with arms, and produce a state of partisan war- 
 fare throughout the vast AYest ? " 
 
 " Why, Colonel," interposed Mr. Martin, '* to hear 
 you talk one would think you intended moving into one 
 of the Territories to-moiTow, when we all know that you 
 will never leave Belleview." 
 
 "It is the gross injustice they wish to perpe- 
 trate on the South that excites my indignation. You 
 people of the North, Mr. Wyndship, have a very faint 
 conception of Southern character. We cannot quietly 
 submit while being deprived of our rights, neither can 
 we put up with officious interferences with oiu- personal 
 affairs. It stirs our bile." 
 
 '' Even if the wrongs and interferences are imaginary," 
 again suggested Mr. Martin. 
 
BELLEVIEW. 49 
 
 ** Imaginary wi'ongs are sometimes as exasperating as 
 real ones," remarked AVyndship. 
 
 " Call them imaginary if you will, still the stini? is 
 there. But they do not seem very fanciful to me. Sup- 
 pose we were to treat 3'ou lil^ewise, and deny you the 
 protection of the law for 3'our horses, your mules, your 
 herds of cattle and sheep when you drive them within 
 the limits of a slave State ? Suppose we were to place 
 under a similar ban the articles of merchandise that you 
 _ manufacture and ship us in trade ? " 
 
 " Such things are recognized as property everywhere, 
 slaves are not." 
 
 " The Constitution recognizes them as property, and 
 that is tha supreme law of the land." 
 
 ''Besides," continued Vryndship, ''it is sometimes 
 best to forego some of our rights, that we may safely se- 
 cure the remainder." 
 
 "A most en-oneous and pernicious doctrine. Honesty 
 is the best policy in politics as well as in business, and 
 the true statesman will never sacrifice one jot, or tittle 01 
 principle under the mistaken idea that it is good policy. 
 Again, you do not understand us on the question of 
 slavery. You think that we are wedded to the system 
 as it exists among us at present, when such is not the 
 case. Many of our deepest thinlvers are eagerly looking 
 forward to the time when we can institute reforms, and 
 make some radical changes in its present features." 
 
 " What changes do you regard as desirable ?" asked 
 the young man, his curiosity excited. 
 
 " One change that I regard as desirable and that I 
 would gladly see made at an early day, is the ti'ansfei- 
 ing, or rather modifying their status as property, so as 
 to attach them to the land instead of the person of their 
 owners." 
 
 " I do not understand your idea." 
 
 " Well — to make it clearer — they should cease to he 
 personal property, and instead of belonging to their 
 owners absolutely, just as they now do, like any other 
 personal property, I would have them attached to the es- 
 tate or plantation on which they live, depriving the 
 owner of the right to sell or separate them therefrom 
 without their consent. As an illustration, take my 
 plantation and my negroes. I would so change the 
 present law so that these negroes, instead of belonging 
 
50 COLONEL GACHET DISCOUHSES POLITICALLY. 
 
 to me as personal property, should belong to the land on 
 .vhich they live, and I should have no power to sell or 
 remove them except by legal process with their con- 
 sent." 
 
 '' What do you mean by legal process, Colonel?" in- 
 quired Mr. Martin. "Forced sale under execution for 
 debt, administrator's sale, and such like?" 
 
 "No sir; they should not be subject to execution at 
 all ; neither should an administrator sell them except as 
 appurtenances to the land. I mean by legal process that 
 their consent to the sale or romoval must be clearly as- 
 sured by legal means just as in some states a homestead 
 or real estate acquired through a wife, cannot be sold 
 without the wife's consent being ascertained by a notary 
 public, separate and apart from her husband. Deeds 
 of conveyance without her signature and without her 
 consent being thus proven, are null and void. So should 
 it be with every sale of negroes ; their consent must first 
 be ascertained by a magistrate while the master or seller 
 is out of the way." 
 
 " What advantages to the negro will be derived from 
 the change?" asked Wyndship. 
 
 "Several; but the most important will be the abol- 
 ishment of the slave traffic. The trader or speculator 
 who buys and sells negroes just as he would horses, 
 mules, or other live stock, would find his occupation 
 gone, or so restricted that it would no longer be a profit- 
 able business. It would stop the breaking of family ties, the 
 separation of husband and wife, of parents and children. 
 It would give to every slave the assurance of a perma- 
 nent home, and relieve him of the dread of a forced sep- 
 aration from those he loved. It would give him an in- 
 terest in the Foil he cultivates, encourage him in adding 
 comforts to his household, and adornments to his humble 
 cabin." 
 
 " In other words, it would benefit him just so much, 
 as it is a step towards freedom." 
 
 " It would benefit him vastly more than would eman- 
 cipation, for which he is totally unfit. He would still 
 have a master's watchful care, still be under those re- 
 straints so absolutely necessary to the African's welfare. 
 If this reform was instituted, the greatest — I may say 
 the only reasonable objection to our system, would be 
 removed ; and the negroes of the South would be the 
 
BELLEVIEW. 51 
 
 happiest, their lot the most enviable of any class of la- 
 borers in the "world, and far superior to that of the fac- 
 tory hands of the North." 
 
 " Still, you never could convince the latter that such 
 was the case, or induce them for one moment to ex- 
 change situations." 
 
 *' Possibly not ; but that -would not alter the fact. Not 
 many of us know what is best for our good, or even when 
 we do, are always willing to obtain it by the sacrifice of 
 our false pride. But think for a moment what great ad- 
 vantages our negroes would possess. First, they would 
 have permanent homes, from which they could not be 
 alienated without their consent — your factory hands 
 have none. Secondly, they would have their food, their 
 clothing, all their necessities supplied without the least 
 anxiety or mental worry as to the source from which it 
 comes ; while your factory hands are never free from 
 that harrowing nightmare, loss of employment. Thirdly, 
 they would be cared for when sick, medical attention and 
 medicines furnished free, and with a master and mistress 
 interested in their welfare, to see that they do not suffer 
 for careful nursing ; while sickness of self or family, 
 with your so-called free laborers, means suffering, desti- 
 tution, the public hospital, the poor house, and possibly 
 a much worse fate than even that. Now, in what particular 
 would their situation be better than that of our negroes? 
 What, great blessings does their boasted freedom bring 
 them that will overbalance all these advantages that I 
 have enumerated?" 
 
 '' The blessings of hope, Colonel. The opportunity of 
 gratifying that ambition to climb higher, which is a pre- 
 dominant trait of the Anglo-Saxon mind. The hope of 
 one day being more than a mere laborer ; of acquiring 
 property for the benefit of their families ; of being able 
 to educate their children and start them in life on a 
 higher plane than they begun." 
 
 " I admit, that while it lasts, hope produces great 
 pleasure, but it is short lived and evanescent, and sooner 
 or later it dies, leaving its dupe only the greater misery 
 for having once possessed it. To say the least, it is a 
 very poor substitute for the real and solid advantages I 
 have enumerated." 
 
 '' 1 don't know about that. It is better to have hope 
 and lose it, than never to have hope at all. I cannot 
 
52 COLONEL GACHET 1>ISC0URSES POLITICALLY. 
 
 imagine a more miserable existence than one destitute of 
 aU faith." 
 
 " That," said Mr. Martin, " is owing to the' individual 
 or class. Doubtless you could not live without it, and if 
 the negro race had the same aspirations thr.t animate 
 you for something better and higher, their lives would 
 indeed be miserable ; and no matter what improvements 
 might be made in their condition, they would never be 
 contented and happy as slaves. But to the contrary, my 
 observation teaches me that they are happier tlian their 
 masters ; consequently I am forced to believe that they 
 are not dependent on that kind of faith for their 
 pleasures." 
 
 "Yes," said Col. Gachet, "there is where the ab- 
 olitionists make a mistake in their deductions. They 
 persist in assmning that the African race possesses the 
 same intelligence, temperament and desires, as the white, 
 whereas they are entirely different, and are not governed 
 by the same rules. No greater curse could befall them 
 than the sweeping emancipation advocated by the would- 
 be philanthropist of New England." 
 
 " I am too utterly ignorant of the negro to express an 
 opinion of his mental and moral characteristics. But 
 speaking of the Abolitionist, Colonel, 1 think you misap- 
 prehend their true motives. The majority of that party 
 are not prompted so much by the desire to better the 
 negro's condition, as b}^ the fear of having to come in 
 competition with him in the fields of labor. Their object 
 is more to keep him at a distance, than to free him. 
 That is why I think the Southern Democrats are making 
 a mistake in their demands." 
 
 " No, sir. We are making no mistake. "We are only 
 demanding what is justly our due, and as for myself, I 
 would rather sacrifice all I possess, than yield one iota of 
 the principle involved. I have lived happily under the 
 United States government, I have worn its uniform, and 
 fought beneath its flag ; I have gloried in its past grand 
 achievements, and in its magnificent promises for the 
 future ; but, when it refuses to me and to my neighbors, 
 those rights and privileges which its Constitution most 
 sacredly guarantees that we shall have, then I am for se- 
 cession — revolution — war to the bitter end, if need be." 
 
 " Oh, politics, politics !" exclaimed Mrs. Martin, who 
 
BELLEVIEW. 53 
 
 had returned to the porch. "Do gentlemen never talk 
 of anything else ? *' 
 
 "In the presence of ladies, yes," responded the 
 Colonel, with a gallant bow and a complete change of 
 tone. 
 
 " Politics is said to be as necessary to masculine en- 
 joyment as the fashions are to the fairer sex," said 
 Wyndship, laughingly. 
 
 "Your comparison is very inaccurate, sir," retorted 
 the lady, " for I assure you we sometimes talk on other 
 subjects than fashion, while it is a rare occasion indeed 
 when gentlemen forsake their hobby." 
 
 " That shows the greater consistency of the sterner, or 
 rather, superior sex," suggested her better-half, dryly. 
 
 For an answer, she turned her back on her liege lord, 
 and changed the conversation by inquiring after the 
 health of the ladies at Belleview, and how much Miss 
 Owens had been benefited by her visit to Tennessee. 
 
 "Very much, indeed," answered Col. Gachet. "I 
 tell her she looks as healthy and robust as the tj^Dical 
 mountain girl, and that no one, seeing her now for the 
 first time, would believe but what she had been running 
 bare-footed over the rocks all her life." 
 
 His buggy having returned, he arose to leave, and 
 after bidding Mr. and Mrs. IMartin good evening, he 
 turned to the young man, and said : 
 
 " Mr. Wyndship, I have enjoyed our little discussion 
 immensely, and hope I will have an opportunity of re- 
 newing it at some other time. You must visit us at 
 Belleview. Come some Saturday, and you shall have an 
 opportunity of studying the slavery question, and the 
 negi'o character and condition, by personal observation. 
 I assure you I will hide not a single chain, not a single 
 blood-stained whip, or fetter." 
 
 " Are you a prophet, or the son of a prophet? " asked 
 Wyndship of his host, after their caller had passed out 
 of the gate. 
 
 " How gratifying to our self-appreciation to be able to 
 say, ' I told you so ! " 
 
 " His self-appreciation was easily gratified, Mr. 
 Wyndship," said Mrs. Martin, lightly. " It did not take 
 much prophetic ken to foretell such natural consequence." 
 
 " I acknowledge that I was somewhat surprised by his 
 suavity and his invitation," 
 
5i WYNDSHIP OPENS HIS SCHOOL. 
 
 ' ' Why ? Is it not customary for people to invite others 
 to their homes in your State ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes, but I did not expect it from so great a per- 
 sonage as Col. Gachet." 
 
 Mrs. Martin looked at him wonderingly for a moment 
 before replying. 
 
 * ' I expect 3'ou had better prepare yourself for a good 
 many surprises." 
 
 CHAPTER Y. 
 
 IN WHICH WYNDSHIP OPENS HIS SCHOOL MAKES SOME 
 
 ACQUAINTANCES AND ACCEPTS AN INVITATION. 
 
 On the following Monday morning, Wyndship opened 
 his school with much better attendance than he expected 
 after Mr. Slaton's defection, and during the week was 
 exceedingly busy examining his pupils and arranging 
 them in classes according to their proficiency and ad- 
 vancement. It did not take him long to discover that 
 jMajor Dismukes was not far wrong in his ideas of needed 
 reforms. A large j^roportion of the text-books they 
 brought were rather obsolete, such as had been discarded 
 net only in the North, but in all well-established institu- 
 tions of learning. In addition to this, their variety 
 amazed him. No regular system had ever been adopted 
 in Georgia, and as each teacher before him had a pref- 
 erence for a certain kind, and had introduced that kind 
 as far as they were able, he found that nearly every pupil's 
 books were different from the other's. To have as many 
 classes as there were different books was entirely out of 
 the question, and it was not the smallest part of his la- 
 bors to induce the parents to purchase again. It was 
 too expensive, they claimed, to be buying new books for 
 every new teacher. "Parson Pruette had to have a 
 different kind, and Dr. Jones before him, and so did 
 Smith ; and now this new Yankee teacher must throw 
 them all aside and have them go and buy new ones." 
 Wyndship, however, was ably seconded by the two 
 trustees, and, persevering in his efforts, gradually began 
 to bring order out of the chaos. But this was not his 
 only trouble ; the school at Somerville had never known 
 what good management and strict discipline meant. 
 
BELLEVIEW* 55 
 
 The government of his predecessors, he discovered, had 
 been of a loose and unstable character, generating habits 
 among the children not conducive to application or good 
 behavior. Determined to earn his salary, he put all his 
 energy in the work before him of thoroughly establish- 
 ing his authority over the little empire placed under his 
 control. The docility and intelligence of the pupils wore 
 fully up to the average of other communities, and be- 
 coming imbued with the spirit and ambition of the 
 teacher, the improvement, both in discipline and in les- 
 sons, soon became noticeable to a marked extent. 
 
 The opposition of Mr. Slaton also contributed to suc- 
 cess in a manner not intended by that gentleman. In 
 justification of his course, and in order to ruin an enter- 
 prise he could not control, he spread the report through 
 the neighborhood " that the Yankee teacher was an Abo- 
 litionist." This would have had a disastrous effect had 
 it not been promptly denied by Mr. Harley, Major Dis- 
 mukes and Mr. and Mrs. Martin. As it Tv'as, the better 
 and more influential citizens, perceiving the spirit that 
 animated the traducer, and the evident eflorts of the 
 young man to do his duty, rallied to his support, not 
 only giving him encouragement, but also a friendly and 
 hospitable reception wherever he went. A nevf in- 
 terest was excited in the school, and its patrons began to 
 discuss the questions among themselves why they could 
 not establish a college, or high school, at least, and 
 thereby save much of the large sums j^early sent to ]\Ia- 
 con, Athens, and other places, in payment of their child- 
 ren's board. The location of Somerviile, they argued, 
 was high and salubrious ; its seclusion and remoteness 
 vnis in its favor, as there was nothing to distract the stu- 
 dents' attention from their studies, and moreover, was 
 free from the tem.ptations to the young that abound in 
 larger places. This ended only in discussion, however, 
 swallowed up in the greater and more absorbing question 
 that soon commanded their undivided attention. 
 
 Vfyndship's new home proved to be fully as pleasant 
 as he anticipated, and the subject of a boarding place 
 was not revived. His host and liostess, though old in 
 years, had not lost all interest in the matters that usually 
 
 comm^and j^oung people's attention. The lady, in par- 
 ticular, had the rare and hcppy faculty of sympathizing 
 
 with them in all their pursuits, ambitions and every-day 
 
66 WTNDSmp OPENS HIS SCHOOL. 
 
 matters, and of entering heart and soul into theii* plans 
 of innocent amusement — in short, was one of those 
 blessed women who never grow old. Besides this, she 
 felt that her boarder's separation from his mother and 
 sister, was a serious bereavement, and that he deserved 
 and was entitled to all the consolation she could give ; 
 that it was her duty to make her house a pleasant home, 
 and to guard him against all attacks of homesickness. 
 
 Nor was the company of Mr. Martin less entertaining 
 than that of his wife. Sensible and matter-of-fact in 
 his character, still his mind was not of that solid kind 
 upon which the incidents and experiences of life 'fall like 
 a di'op of rain on a rock, leaving no visible impression 
 whatever. The eyes, ears and mem.ory with which na- 
 tuie had endowed him had been put to good use in the 
 past, and now he felt no temptation to hide his light un- 
 der a bushel. Time had mellowed the jovial good hu- 
 mor of youth without adding the least flavor of acidity ; 
 had enriched instead of impovering his store of informa- 
 tion ; had broadened instead of naiTowiug his views and 
 opinions ; thus making his conversation peculiarly enter- 
 taining to a young man of W^mdship's temperament. 
 
 But the latter did not avail himself of the pleasure of 
 then- companionship to the full extent in his power. Al- 
 though he had successfully passed a legal examination, 
 and had received a license which gave him the right to 
 practice law, still he himself was not satisfied with his 
 proficiency. Natm^al diffidence caused him to depreciate 
 his own attainments as well as his ability, and at the 
 same time, ambition prevented him from being satisfied 
 with mediocrity. He made it a rule to retire to his room 
 at a certain hour every evening, and to spend so many 
 hours in study, and no ordinary circumstance was al- 
 lowed to interfere with this rule. All other duties, such 
 as pertained to his school, and even his regular letters 
 home, were attended to during the hours usually allotted 
 to recreation and amusement, and the evenings after sup- 
 per were devoted to Blackstone and Chitty and other le- 
 gal luminaries, varied only by the study (almost as dry) 
 of Supreme Court decisions, and of the records of such 
 celebrated cases as he could obtain. By this means he 
 hoped to familiarize himself with all the details and 
 crooked by-paths of the profession — with all the intri- 
 cate and tangled meshes of procedures, demun-ers, mo- 
 
JiELLEVIEW. 57 
 
 tions, special pleas, et al without end, which, like 
 veritable spider-webs, are woven in profuse prodigality 
 around the supposed altar of justice, to catch those un- 
 wary human flies who imagine that they are in need of 
 legal equity. His want of self-confidence made him 
 doubtful of himself, and he was determined to make 
 good any deficit by a liberal use of midnight oil. That 
 " first care " and "maiden effort," of which there was 
 no present prospect, hung like a dark and threatening 
 cloud over the future of his anticipations, producing 
 most unreasonable forebodings of disaster. He knew 
 of but one way to prepare for the first and to avoid the 
 latter, and that was by hard study. 
 
 This was a severe regime for a young man — after the 
 tedious worrying, and exhausting labors of the schoolroom 
 (for he never abated his efforts there) , to spend the major 
 part of his hours for rest and recreation in so dry and 
 uninteresting a study — one that few native Georgians 
 could have been induced to adopt. But Wyndship pos- 
 sessed his full share of Yankee ambitions, with none of 
 the proverbial "Yankee brass and assurance." 
 
 As he returned from school one afternoon during the 
 first week, he found Carlos in front of the gate holding 
 a couple of horses, both of which bore ladies' saddles. 
 He was about to question the boy as to what it meant, 
 when the music of the piano, mingled with a voice 
 singing, through the open windows of the parlor, told 
 him that Mrs. Martin had company. That lady met him 
 in the hall, and over-raling all his objections, made him 
 enter the room. She introduced him, first to "Miss 
 Gachet," and then, turning to a young lady at the piano, 
 to " Miss Owens." 
 
 " I believe," replied the latter, pleasantly, " that I 
 had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Wyndship on the after- 
 noon of my return home." 
 
 ^ Our young friend had entered the room rather against 
 his will. During his past life his indulgence in the 
 pleasures of female society had been limited, and he had 
 never developed any of the characteristics of a " ladies' 
 man." Moreover, he had taken up an idea that these 
 two belonged to that exclusive class who hold themselves 
 aloof and above young men in his position, consequently 
 it was with a good deal of embarrassment, and with a 
 convictionof his own awkwardness, that he bowed before 
 
58 
 
 WYNDSHIP OPENS HIS SCHOOL. 
 
 them, heartily wishing at the moment that either he or 
 they were somewhere else. Miss Owens's graceful 
 acknowledgment of the previous introduction made him 
 open his eyes, and recalled some of his lost self-possession ; 
 then, too, Mrs. Martin came quicldy to his rescue, 
 and in a short time he recovered sufficiently to join in 
 the conversation that followed. Later on, he grew bold 
 enough to petition for a song, and although the occupant 
 of the piano-stool had already remarked to her compan- 
 ion that it was growing late, she unhesitatingly complied 
 with the request. The song was a simple Irish melody, 
 but it was sung with great sweetness and feeling — at 
 least he thought so, for now there had come a complete 
 revulsion in his feelings. Her graceful, unaffected man- 
 ner and musical voice was pleasing his fancy as much 
 as it had been by the beauty of her face and eyes. 
 
 '* I expect Mr. Wyndship's ear," she said, rising from 
 the instrument, ' ' has been too highly cultivated to be 
 entertained by my simple songs." 
 
 His eager and rather incoherent expostulations to the 
 contrary caused her to laugh lightly as she thanked him 
 for his compliments. He was no longer wishing himself 
 in " Halifax" as he accompanied them to the gate, with 
 something lUie the regret that we all feel at the loss or 
 ending of a delicious pleasure. After assisting them off, 
 he noticed that the sun had gone down, and instinctively 
 looked at his watch to see if it was too slow, causing 
 him to retain his pupils beyond the customary hour. 
 Time had flown a little faster than it did in the company 
 of the great Blackstone. 
 
 " Well, how do you like the 'Magnolia and Cape 
 Jesamine' of Belleview ? " asked Mrs. Martin, as they 
 turned back towards the house.'* 
 
 ''The what?" 
 
 " The ' Magnolia and Cape Jessamine of Belleview' 
 — that is what they are sometimes called — the two 
 young ladies, I mean." 
 
 " Oh ! pardon my stupidity — I did not understand at 
 first. They are both very beautiful. After a moment's 
 silence, he continued enthusiastically : " Did you ever 
 see anything more lovely than that golden-haired, meny- 
 ej^ed girl, dressed in " 
 
 " In what?" 
 
 " AYell — really, I don't know — it was something 
 
BEtLKVIEW. 59 
 
 light. Which of the flowers is she supposed to repre- 
 sent?" 
 
 " The Cape Jesscimine." 
 
 "Then it must be a lovely flower. I should have 
 called them the red and white roses," he added, after a 
 moment's pause. 
 
 " You must not lose your heart to Mollie," she said, 
 watching him rather closely. " She has been Charley 
 Hurst's sweetheart ever since they were little children. 
 Charley is a great friend of mine, and I must take care 
 of his interests." 
 
 "So it is hands off," he replied, with a laugh, which was 
 speedily ended, however. " I shall take care not to do 
 so foolish a thing as that — I know too well, the dis- 
 tance supposed to be between Colonel Gachet's daughter 
 and a poor Yankee teacher like myself, to presume so 
 much. But even Mr. Hurst would not object to my ad- 
 miring his inamorata at a respectful distance — would 
 he?" 
 
 "Why do you persist in talldng such nonsense? 
 What distance can there between you ? Only that which 
 exists in your own imagination, and no more. I gave 
 the warning in jest — well," as if correcting himself, " I 
 think Charley would have a decided advantage over any 
 rival." 
 
 " I thank you for the warning, and shall not forget 
 that both the Magnolia and Cape Jesamine have been 
 spoken for." 
 
 " I did not say that the' first was." 
 
 " I understood that she was allotted to her guardian's 
 son — young Mr. Gachet." 
 
 " The family have that match very much at heart, I 
 suspect, but that is no sign that it will ever come to 
 pass." 
 
 " The very best of signs, I should think. Doubtless 
 Mr. Gachet is handsome and clever." 
 
 " Very handsome and " 
 
 " And then, too, he has the advantage of his family's 
 influence." 
 
 " My husband would saj", that owing to the natural 
 perverseness of our sex, that would be a disadvantage 
 instead of assistance," answered Mrs. Martin, lightly, 
 as they re-entered the house. 
 
 If Mrs. Martin noticed that Wyndship had no compli- 
 
60 WYNDSHIP OPENS HIS SCHOOL. 
 
 ments to pass on Miss Owens, she gave no sign. Prob- 
 ably she thought that silence was sometimes more ex- 
 pressive than words. In fact, the short interview had 
 excited his admiration for both young ladies, but much 
 more for the latter than her companion. * Deeper im- 
 pressions are generally the hardest to analj^ze, or even 
 to understand ; consequently we give voice to the 
 lighter emotions, while stronger ones are kept to our- 
 selves, and possibly this phenomenon of human nature 
 was not unknown to his hostess. The day before she 
 had been talking of taking tea with the Gachets on the 
 next Friday evening, and had invited Wyndship to ac- 
 company her and her husband. At that time he de- 
 clined the invitation with thanks, pleading as an excuse 
 that he did not wish to lose the time from study — an 
 excuse that she refused to accept, saying that she did 
 not see the necessity for so much study, and thought too 
 much was worse than not enough. 
 
 With the usual consistency of mankind, he had now 
 changed his mind, and no longer considered the loss of 
 one evening as detrimental to his future career as a law- 
 yer. Secretly he longed for the invitation to be re- 
 newed, resolving not to be ungracious by persistently 
 refusing. Now this was not a case of love at first sight 
 — at least, not to his understanding — on the contrary, 
 he would have indignantly scouted the idea, that he 
 could so far forget his self-respect as to allow his heart 
 to become entangled by the fascinations of the first rich 
 Southern girl he met. He would never marry above him- 
 self and have the world branding him with the offensive 
 epithet of fortune-hunter. Oh no ! there was no dan- 
 ger of his falling in love, he was not ready for that — 
 could not yet afford such a luxury — but having seen a 
 beautiful picture, and having heard some delicious mu- 
 sic, he simply desired a repetition of the pleasure — that 
 was all. 
 
 But his landlady did not seem disposed to aid him in 
 the gratification of this harmless and innocent diversion. 
 The Friday evening tea was not mentioned again, and 
 when the day came, she changed from her original inten- 
 tion, spending the afternoon, instead of the evening, at 
 Belle view. When he inquired as to the cause of the 
 change, she explained that as he would not accompany 
 them, she thought it best to be at home to see that the 
 
belli: VIEW. 61 
 
 cook did not cheat him out of his supper. The truth 
 was, Mrs. Martin saw thtit " viewing- the beautiful pic- 
 ture, and listening to the delicious music" was a more 
 dangerous amusement than he imagined. So far from 
 being the match-maker that her husband had jocularly- 
 termed her, she determined not to be the means of lead- 
 ing the j^oung man Into danger. She fully appreciated 
 Elma's attraction, suspected Wyndship's susceptibility, 
 and realized the possibility of the latter's losing a heart 
 without winning one in return ; and the unhappiness that 
 would thus come to him, must not come through any 
 agency of hers. 
 
 Although he remembered the invitation that Col. 
 Gachet had so graciously extended, he did not like to 
 act upon it without some other excuse. He rather con- 
 sidered it as an act of politeness, with no expectation of 
 his taking it as it was literally given, and he could not 
 endure the thought of intruding on the proud and aristo- 
 cratic Southerner when there was the least doubt of his 
 welcome. If he could not match the Gaehets in wealth 
 and position, he could in pride, at least, and the im- 
 pressions he had formed before coming South had not 
 been all dispelled. Even in youth it is often hard to 
 surrender illusions on the first evidence of their falsity. 
 His doubts as to the sincerity of the invitation, however, 
 were soon settled. 
 
 One afternoon during the following week, after dis- 
 missing school, he walked down to the post-office to get 
 his mail ; — there he met the Colonel, w^ho stopped to 
 shake hands and pass the compliments of the day. 
 When through with this, the latter renewed the invita- 
 tion in such a way that there could be no reasonable ex- 
 cuse for refusing. 
 
 "I want you to come out to Belleview next Saturday," 
 he said, *' and take a ride with me over my plantation. 
 The exercise will do you no harm, and you will have an 
 opportunity of seeing how we manage our slaves— in 
 other words, will give you a chance of studying the ' in- 
 stitution' by personal observation. Will you come ?" 
 
 The Colonel was evidently in earnest, so Wyndship 
 replied in the affirmative. 
 
 '' We should start early — say half -past seven, at 
 leasts and as that will necessitate your leaying Mr. Mar- 
 tin's before their usual breakfast hour, you had better 
 
Cr2 -wnmsmp ope-n^s his school. 
 
 take that meal with iis. Or, what is better still, come 
 out on Friday afternoon ; I can send for you then jnst 
 as well." 
 
 *' That will not be necessary. Mrs. Martin always 
 has breakfast by that hour, and would order it even 
 sooner, I think, should it be necessary." 
 
 " Well, I will send early, and shmild it not be ready, 
 come on to Belleview witliout waiting. We can supply 
 you with a cup of coffee, at least, that will partly atone 
 for the loss of Mrs. Martin's delicacies. ISIake your ar- 
 rangements to remain over night, as, I dare say, you 
 will be too imich fatigued by the time I get through with 
 you, to wish to return that evening. Remember, seven 
 o'clock you may expect my boy.'* 
 
 The human heart and mind are full of strange incon- 
 sistencies. Wyndship had been taught that the society 
 of the South, particularly the older portions, of which 
 this was a part, was dominated by an arrogant, purse- 
 proud aristocracy, who regarded the poor as little better 
 than their toiling slaves ; and that this feeling was par- 
 ticularly bitter against impecunious emigrants from the 
 Northern States. That if they deigned to notice the 
 latter in the least, it was only an act of condescension 
 prompted by motives of policy. He had come to this 
 section, determined in his own mind, to accept none of 
 their patronizing civility ; to hold himself aloof, no mat- 
 ter at what cost to his future prospects, or what sacrifice 
 to his social comfort. The Gachets came nearer filling 
 his conception of what this aristocracy was than any 
 other family he had met ; still here he was, within two 
 weeks of his arrival, gladly accepting an invitation to 
 spend a day and night within the exclusive confines of 
 Belleview. To have hinted the possibility of his falling 
 in love with the rich Miss Owens, would have aroused 
 his indignation, and maybe his anger, to a disagreeable 
 extent ; still he was looking forward to the chance of 
 seeing her face and hearing her voice again, with a thrill 
 of pleasure that kept the proposed visit continually in his 
 mind during the intervening da3^s and nights. 
 
 On the other hand. Col. Gachet drove away in his 
 buggy with the pleasing consciousness of having com- 
 mitted an act of graceful courtesy to an inferior. He 
 complimented himself on showing an extremely liberal 
 spirit in thus making the young Yankee teacher the recip- 
 
BELLEVIEW. 63 
 
 icnt of so much condescension. The absence of wealth 
 did not depreciate the latter in his estimation — in truth, 
 he disclaimed all superiority over others on that account, 
 and sincerely believed in his own consistency. His 
 standard was mental and moral worth, and he had long 
 since convinced himself that he judged others by these 
 alone. This was in a manner true ; still no ordinary, 
 nay, no possible circumstance, could have convinced him . 
 that Wyndship was his equal, indeed, as to that, no per 
 son ever rose that high in his estimation. He worshipped 
 two idols, two household gods, before whose shrine he 
 knelt in constant devotion. These were: first, the 
 greatness of the Gachets ; and secondly, the South and 
 its institution ; and no strange gods ever seduced him 
 from his allegiance. This idolatry, as far as the first 
 is concerned, was not peculiar to him alone, as thous- 
 ands of every country and of every class worship at the 
 same altar. 
 
 This ruling passion of the Colonel's character was not 
 always apparent to the casual observer. The polish of 
 cultivated manners — that politeness that was so neces- 
 sary in those days for the com.pleteness of a Southern 
 gentleman, hung like a veil before his great egotism, 
 and was rarely thrown aside except on occasions when 
 his personal importance was questioned. Besides this, 
 he felt a sincere respect for the rights of others, as he 
 understood them, and prided himself on his quick per- 
 ception of merit in others. This merit he was always 
 ready to encourage by active assistance as well as by 
 the light of his noble countenance. He was satisfied, 
 from Wyndship's appearance and recommiendations, that 
 he was a young man of moral and intellectual worth, 
 and was therefore entitled to some consideration at his 
 hands ; entitled to participate in the benefits arising 
 from personal and mental association ; entitled to re- 
 ceive some rays of light and warmth from the great lum- 
 inary of Somerville. 
 
 Nothing produces greater pleasure in the average hu- 
 man breast than to convince and convert others to our 
 way of thinking ; a pleasure that is never diminished by 
 the fact that our convert is of more than average intelli- 
 gence. The love of conquest, so prevalent with man* 
 kind, common to all — to the conquerer, at the head of 
 his army — to the orator, swaying the multitude by his 
 
64 A SOUTHERN PLANTATION. 
 
 eloquence from the political hustings, or the sacrea pul- 
 pit — to the lawyer, pleading his client's case before a 
 jury — to the physician, fighting with all his skill for the 
 life of his patient — to the radiant coquette, employing 
 those numberless arts of eyes and lips in chaining the 
 hearts she cannot accept — common to all alilve, was also 
 common to the master of Belleview. 
 
 Satisfied of the correctness of his own views, and be- 
 lieving that the young man had some erroneous opinions, 
 he did not doubt his a]:)ility to convince him of his errors 
 and to lead him into the light of truth. What better or 
 more commendable occupation could there be for the 
 employment of his own superior faculties, than in purg- 
 ing the taint of prejudice, and brushing the cobwebs 
 of ignorance from the youthful mind? 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 A SOUTHERN PLANTATION. 
 
 " And SO you spend the next twenty-four hours at 
 Belleview?" 
 
 " I will spend the day there, I suppose, but don't 
 know about the night. I may stay until after tea. 
 Can I gain admittance should I remain late ?" 
 
 '' Oh yes, if you do not retm-n by oiu* bed-time, we 
 will leave the front door unlocked." 
 
 " That will be a great sacrifice for your pleasui'e, Mr. 
 Wyndship — leaving the front door unlocked," said Mr. 
 Martin. " I don't think it has been in any other con- 
 dition for years. You need never fear giving us any 
 trouble by coming home late ; a front-door lock is some- 
 thing we have never needed. But I reckon you won't 
 come home to-night." 
 
 'MVhy?" 
 
 " Oh, you won't be able to tear yourself away from 
 the presence of the two young ladies until the Colonel's 
 boy, Antoninus Pius (Tony for short) , lights you off to 
 bed. In fact, I'm wondering if I won't have to come 
 after you to-morrow, and bring you away by main 
 force." 
 
 *' You need not be uneasy, your services in that capac- 
 
BELLEVIEW. 65 
 
 ity will not be needed. AVhile I am willing to admit 
 that the young ladies are very fascinating, I don't think 
 that I am quite that susceptible. Do you, Mrs. Mar- 
 tin?" 
 
 " I hope that you are not that — that soft. Mr. Mar- 
 tin is judging you by what he was in his younger days." 
 
 " Well ! that beats me," exclaimed Mr. Martin in mock 
 despair. '' Who ever heard of the like ! Here I have 
 been living with a woman for thirty years — until the 
 winter of old age has whitened my locks, and the chisel 
 of time has cut artistic lines all over my handsome 
 frontispiece — believing all the while that I commanded 
 her respect and reverence ; and lo and behold, at this 
 late day, she tells me to my face that I was soft. Was 
 there ever a fall so great? Young mac, take warning 
 by my fate — see what humiliation is in store for you 
 should you ever give way to the tender passion." 
 
 "But they say love is like the measles," laughed 
 Wyndship ; "we must all have it." 
 
 " I did intend giving you some hints as to how you 
 should comport yourself to-day, but my self-love has been 
 so cruelly wounded that I haven't the heart to begin." 
 
 " I am sorry, Mr. Wyndship, that I have lost you 
 such excellent advice." 
 
 "Well, madam, if you will allow me another cup of 
 coffee, and put in an extra lump of sugar, maybe I can 
 recover sufficiently to try. It is very important," he 
 continued, after stirring and tasting the second cup, 
 " that you make a good impression this time, for you'll 
 want to go again. There will be no babies for you to 
 kiss, no little brother or sister to make much of, so you'll 
 have to make it up by prudent flattery with the old man. 
 You must admh-e everything you see — his horses, his dogs, 
 his plantation, his negro quarters, and particularly his 
 flowers. That will make you solid with the old Colonel, 
 and as to the young ladies, you have only to be ' soft,' 
 you know, to win with them — " 
 
 " Colonel Cachet's buggy is ter de gate fer Massa 
 Wyndship," interrupted Carlos, from the hall. 
 
 " I am waiting for the continuation of your advice," 
 said the young man, pushing back his plate. 
 
 "I never give advice hurriedly — it is too important a 
 business. You might misapprehend, go wi'ong, and 
 then the mischief would be to pay. You must go ahead 
 
66 A SOUTHERN PLAXTATION. 
 
 now and trust to luck ; only remember that being ' soft' 
 is what wins with the girls." 
 
 On arriving at Belleview, Wyndship was shown into 
 the library by a servant, who explained that the family 
 were then at breakfast, but that she would notify her 
 master of his arrival. 
 
 '' Tell Colonel Gaohet not to let this interrupt him, 
 but to finish his meal." 
 
 This course, however, the master thought derogatory 
 to his character as a courteous gentlemen. As soon as 
 the message was delivered, he hastened to greet his 
 guest. 
 
 '' Mr. Wyndship !" he exclaimed, with extended hand, 
 " you are the very soul of punctuality. Surely, you 
 have not had your breakfast ?" 
 
 Our hero assured him that he had, and insisted on his 
 returning to the table without ceremony. " I can find 
 plenty of entertainment from j^our books and pictures 
 here for a much longer period than that will be." 
 
 '' I will be delighted if you can extract any amusement 
 from so poor a collection, and hope you will feel per- 
 fectly free and at home. It will take me but a few min- 
 utes to finish my meal." 
 
 In a few minutes his daughter entered the room, and 
 although she was naturall}^ of a modest and retiring dis- 
 position in the presence of strangers, she exerted herself 
 to entertain their guest, and they Avere soon in pleasant 
 chat. This continued until the return of her father. 
 
 " Mr. V^yndship, I expect om- morning's jaunt will 
 rather test your powers of endurance. It will be much 
 more convenient for us to get about over the plantation 
 on horseback than in a buggy, and if you do not object 
 to that method of transit, I will order the horses saddled. 
 If you prefer the buggy, however, we will take it. I 
 understand that horsemanship is fast becoming one of 
 the lost arts in your State." 
 
 The young man assured him that he had a slight 
 knowledge of the " lost art," and that nothing would 
 suit him better than a morning's ride. 
 
 ' ' I know that you will be terribly bored, and would 
 much prefer spending the day with your books, but I 
 have set my heart on showing you over my little domain, 
 and of proving to you tliat the condition of our negroes 
 is much )?etter than that of any other laborers of the 
 
BELLEVIEW. (j < 
 
 same class. As the morning will be the pleasantest 
 part of the day, we will get ready and start at once." 
 
 The Colonel was perfectly sincere in his assertion 
 about the condition of the negroes, and this belief pre- 
 vailed universally among the slave-owners. It was a 
 doctrine that they preached on all occasions when the 
 question of slavery was under discussion, and when we 
 consider the peculiar character of the black race, it was 
 not altogether a delusion. Judging by appearances, by 
 the high animal spirits and " free from care look" of the 
 majority, their lot was not so unendurable as strangers 
 might suppose. 
 
 Passing around by the stables, they rode down 
 through the " quarter," the open doors of which were 
 generally crowded with little black faces watching 
 ^' Massa en de strange gemman," while more than one 
 loud voice from their mothers could be heard, rebuking 
 their want of manners, in " gazen' at de white fo'kes." 
 At the farther end of the miniature village, a little black 
 boy opened a large gate which admitted them into an en- 
 closure that seemed once to have been a cultivated field, 
 but was now used as a pasture. It was grownup in old 
 field pines and broom sedge vvherever there was soil 
 enough left to support any kind of vegetation. The 
 hillsides were washed down to the bare red clay, fur- 
 rowed here and there with immense gullies, plainly 
 showing that no efforts had ever been made to save the 
 light, sandy soil from the ruinous effects of semi-tropical 
 rains. Coming to another large gate it became necessary 
 for one of them to dismount. Thinking that his fewer 
 years better qualified him for that service, Wyndship 
 hastened to anticipate his host, but soon found that he 
 had a larger job on his hands than he contracted for. 
 The gate w^as without a latch, but was secured on the 
 other side by some invisible means, and resisted his ef- 
 forts to push it open. 
 
 " Remove the peg," explained the Colonel. " Remove 
 the peg from the post on the inner side." 
 
 Reaching through the bars our hero's hand at length 
 found what seemed to be the obstacles. Pulling out an iron 
 pin, evidently not made for the service it was perform- 
 ing — that of a gate-latch, by being thrust into an auger 
 hole bored into the post — he once again attempted to 
 push it open. This time it reeled out at the top like a 
 
68 A SOLTilERX I L VNTATIOIn*. 
 
 drunken man, but held to its position at the bottom^ 
 showing that only one hinge was assisting it in the per- 
 formance of its duty. 
 
 " You will have to lift it," again explained the 
 Colonel, this time with a slight suspicion of embarass- 
 ment in his voice. " Be careful, or it will fall. The 
 lazy, trifling scamps are forever breaking down my 
 gates, but never think of repairing the damage until or- 
 dered to do so," he added, with rather more strength 
 than elegance in his tone. 
 
 Placing one hand under a slat, and steadying it witlj 
 the other, Wyndship lifted the refractory gate far enough, 
 open to admit their horses, and then proceeded to shut 
 it in the same way. On one side, in a corner of the zig- 
 zag rail fence, almost hid by weeds, lay the plow to 
 which the unique gate-latch belonged, having evidently' 
 been thrown there at the end of the plowing season some 
 months before. The eyes of a careful, thrifty farmer 
 would have noticed numerous other instances of waste 
 and neglect. In one place was a hoe, by a stump lay a 
 single tree, while another gate was secured by a trace 
 chain. The teacher's past life had not been such as to 
 give him much acquaintance with the ' ' noble art of hus- 
 bandry," still it became evident to him that Colonel 
 Gachet would never pass for a model farmer according 
 to Pennsylvania ideas. 
 
 The latter soon recovered his equanimit}^, and in his 
 courteous, dignified way, began expatiating on his favor- 
 ite theme. No one could doubt his sincerity, and while 
 his listener was much less interested in the subject than 
 he supposed, still his conversation did not prove to be 
 tiresome. They visited different parts of the plantation, 
 where different kinds of work were going on, all of 
 which was performed by the negroes in an easy, non- 
 chalant manner, which indicated that their owner was 
 not an exacting task-master. The merry laughter and 
 melodious songs which greeted their ears before reaching, 
 or immediately after leaving each group, did not tell of 
 that heart-breaking ciTielty of the master, and utter hope- 
 less misery of the slaves, so graphically pictured by Mrs. 
 Stowe. Nor were there any evidences of their being on 
 dress parade to deceive a stranger — actions and ap- 
 pearfinces were too natural for them to have been acting 
 a part for effect under the orders of a heartless tyrant. 
 
BELLKVIEW. 69 
 
 Moreover, it did not require a very extended acquaint- 
 ance with Colonel Gachet to convince any ordinary 
 judge of human nature that he was not the kind of man 
 for such a subterfuge. 
 
 Stopping at the gin-house — the old fashion kind, run 
 by horse, or rather mule power — AVyndship had an op- 
 portunity of examining the machine invented by a young 
 Yankee, who, like himself, had come South to make his 
 fortune. In the rear of the building was a structure 
 which he found still more unique and interesting in its 
 appearance — a structure which was common enough in 
 the cotton states before the war, but which has been 
 swept away by the ruthless hand of progress under the 
 new order of things. It was one of those primitive 
 wooden screws for compressing the staple into bales, 
 which were used on every cotton plantation before the 
 introduction of the smaller and more symmetrical iron 
 press. Built of timbers cut and hewn by hand from the 
 neighboring forest, supporting a huge wooden screw in a 
 perpendicular position, it reared its rough, ungraceful 
 form full thirty or forty feet above the ground. At- 
 tached to the lower end of this screw was a heavy 
 wooden block, which fitted into an oblong square bOx 
 some ten feet deep — the receptacle of the lint cotton to 
 be baled — and this block, by the revolutions of the 
 screw, compressed the light and spongy lint into the 
 square, compact bale of commerce. The screw was 
 turned either in its downward or upward course by two 
 long levers, also of hewn timber. Meeting above its 
 topmost end, to which they were secured by a sliorter 
 horizontal beam, they formed, with the ground as a 
 base, a right-angled triangle ; the lower ends coming- 
 down close to the ground some twent^^-five feet out from 
 the foundation, w^here the mules which were ..sed in run- 
 ning the machine had worn a circular path or track. Our 
 young friend's curiosity to see it in operation could not 
 be gratified, as the picking was not yet far enough ad- 
 vanced for the ginning to commence, consequently he 
 had to be content with the Colonel's explanations. 
 
 Here again were evidences of improvident and care- 
 less farming. The screw and gin-house were surrounded 
 by a growth of rank weeds which kept the bottom tim- 
 bers of both structures damp and mildevred, thereby ac- 
 celerating the process of decay. It would have taken 
 
70 A SOUTHERN PLANTATION. 
 
 the Colonel's ** hoe gang" but a few minutes each month 
 to have cleared them away, so that the sun and air could 
 have dried out the moisture, thereby adding some j^ears 
 of service to the rotting timbers. All of one side of the 
 house was banked up by a huge pile of rotting cotton- 
 seed — in fact, the rankness of the weeds all about 
 showed the stimulating effects of this valuable fertilizer. 
 No work could have been more profitable on the planta- 
 tion than to " haul" this off, and spread it over the poor 
 and galled hill-sides whose natural fertility was about 
 exhausted ; but the master could never find the time — 
 or what is more probable, would never think of it when 
 they had time — so year after year the heap of rich com- 
 post grew larger and larger, giving its strength to the 
 noxious weeds besides being a grievous eyesore to the 
 lovers of neatness and order. 
 
 Noon found them in the field where the "picking 
 gang" were at work, and just at that hour the faint notes 
 of a horn reached their ears from the direction of the 
 quarter. Wyndship would not have noticed it but for 
 the sudden cessation of labor with the slaves. Each 
 one stopped picking at once and commenced shouldering 
 their sacks and baskets. 
 
 " That horn," explained the Colonel, " is the signal 
 for twelve o'clock, and stops work for the week — at 
 least for me. I make it a rule, no matter what condi- 
 tion mj^ crops or plantation affairs are in, to give every 
 Saturday evening as a half -holiday." 
 
 " AYhat disposition do your slaves generally make of 
 it?" 
 
 " Well, in various ways. I allow those that desire it 
 to cultivate a small patch for themselves, and the more 
 industriously inclined generally spend their holiday time in 
 that manner. They plant this patch in cotton, melons, 
 rice, or other kinds of produce which they can sell." 
 
 " Do you allow them free use of the money they ob- 
 tain in this manner?" 
 
 " Certainly I do. It is theirs to spend in any way 
 they choose — that is, within certain restrictions," he 
 added, as an after- thought. " I would most assuredly 
 object to their spending it for whiskey, for instance." 
 
 " Have you ever noticed how they spend it?" 
 
 " Sometimes, although I have never made it a poini 
 to find out unless I had strong reasons to suspect that 
 
BELLEYIEW. 71 
 
 they were putting it to an improper use. They spend it 
 for little luxuries to eat that are not included in their 
 weekly rations, or little fineries of dress, etc. — each one 
 have their own imaginary wants, you know. Their ne- 
 cessities are all supplied by myself, consequently they 
 are, in a manner, free to consult their individual tastes and 
 fancies. Did you see that old man who just passed us with 
 a basket on his shoulder? Well, he will make this year 
 more than a bale of cotton, besides several bushels of 
 rice on his '' truck patch." The rice he will sell to the 
 white families in Soinerville, and the cotton will be 
 sent to Macon, probably, and sold with mine. About 
 Christmas he will draw the monej^ for his cotton, and go 
 to town, on what his mistress calls, "his annual shop- 
 ping excursion." 
 
 " Do all avail themselves of the opportunity to ac- 
 quire a little spending money in that way?" 
 
 " I am sorry to say that they do not. In addition to 
 the little plat of ground, whenever there is any work to 
 be performed on the plantation, I give them the chance 
 to work for me, paying them as much, or more, than I 
 could hire it done. As an illustration, all the fall during 
 the ' picking season,' I will pay those that will ' pick ' 
 Saturday afternoon, at the rate of fifty cents per one 
 hundred pounds. A few of them will neither work for 
 me, or for themselves, but spend the afternoon in sleepy 
 indolence. One of my best hands has a perfect mania 
 for fishing, and just as soon as the dinner horn is sounded 
 on Saturdays, he starts for the river, where he spends 
 all the evening. In fact, I suspect that a good portion 
 of his Sundays is spent the same way. If he was a free 
 man, I do not believe that he would ever do anything 
 else than fish. Some one, in a jest, nicknamed him 
 " Black Isaac Walton," and he now goes by the name of 
 " Black Ike," altogether. When I adopted the rule, I 
 intended the half day to be entirely at their own dis- 
 posal, and I never interfere, unless it is plainly for 1Iie 
 good of our little community, prohibiting no occupation, 
 or amusement, except such as are demoralizing in their 
 tendencies. My neighbors, I understand, sometimes 
 criticise my methods, and say that I am a bad manager, 
 but when I give my negroes a holiday, I wish it to be 
 one in truth." 
 
 " Now, Mr. Wyndship," he resumed, as they turned 
 
72 A SOUTHERN PLANTATION. 
 
 home-wards, " I have shown you over 1113^ little domaio — 
 my little kingdom, for each plantation is a state in min- 
 iature — and I dare say, have tired you out with my talk 
 and explanations." 
 
 " Oh, no. I have enjoyed the ride very much, indeed, 
 and have found every thing I have seen interesting." 
 
 " You have found our management, and the condition 
 of our slaves, very different from what you expected? " 
 
 "In some respects — yes." 
 
 " In what respect, may I be allowed to enquire? " 
 
 "It seems to be a matter of principle with you 
 Georgians, never to be in a hurry — to take things easy, 
 and that principle seems to dominate in the cotton fields, 
 as well as elsewhere." 
 
 This answer was not exactly what the Colonel ex- 
 pected, or desired, but after a moment's hesitation, he 
 returned to the charge. 
 
 " But have you found slavery as wicked and inhuman 
 an institution as you anticipated ? " 
 
 "Really,! did not expect to behold a spectacle of 
 cold-blooded brutality when I came." 
 
 " I assure you, sir, that there has been no effort made 
 to deceive you — no putting on of the best bib and tucker 
 to hide the stains beneath. Just as you have found mat- 
 ters to-day, just so they are every day." 
 
 " I am satisfied of that. Colonel. Did you think you 
 had got hold of a red-hot Abolitionist in me ? One of 
 the Thad Stevens kind?" 
 
 " Oh, no," disclaimed his host, with some embarrass- 
 ment, " but I apprehended that all of your section who 
 were unacquainted wdth the South, held views more or 
 less erroneous as to the management of om- slaves." 
 
 " All of us are not so ready to believe evil as you 
 fear. As for myself, I have no prejudices against the 
 institution only as I regard it as detrimental to the pros- 
 perity of the community in which I live. I feel no sen- 
 timental sympathy for the " down-trodden race," and 
 doubt not*^but what they are much better off here as 
 slaves, than in their native country. As I remarked just 
 now, you people of the South take life easy, and from 
 what I have seen, the negro is just as much of a philos- 
 opher in that respect as his master." 
 
BELLE VIEW. 73 
 
 The suave expression returned to the other's face. 
 The next best tiling to converting a man is to lind out 
 that you and he do not differ very materially after all. 
 
 j CHAPTER VII. 
 
 PARADISE AND THE SEKPENT. 
 
 On returning to tlie house Wyndship was shown to a 
 room up-stairs by the namesake of the illustrious Ro- 
 man. Notwithstanding his boast in the morning, that 
 he was not unfamiliar with the noble art of horseman- 
 ship, the long ride had jaded him no little, and the min- 
 istrations of Tony were consequently very agreeable. 
 While he bathed his heated face, the latter proc'eeded to 
 remove the dust from his boots and clothing by a dex- 
 terous use of the brush and wisp broom, and when their 
 joint tasks were completed, received the proffered testi- 
 monial with a bow which showed a high appreciation of 
 the " Norf n gem'man's" generosity, the ringing of the 
 dinner-bell hurried the return down stairs where Wyndship 
 found the family awaiting him in the parlor. With them 
 was a 3^oung man, who was introduced as " Mr. Hurst ;" 
 after which ceremony they all repaired to the dining- 
 room. His surmise that this new acquaintance was the 
 Charley Hurst that :Mrs. Martin had spoken of in such 
 high terms, proved correct, and the good opinion formed 
 from her praises was soon strengthened by personal con- 
 tact — a feeling that was apparently reciprocated by the 
 other, to a marked extent, as they were on quite friendly 
 terms before the evening was over. 
 
 Wyndship remembered what that lady had said about 
 his new friend and Miss Cachet, and concluded, after a 
 little observation of the two, that she was not far wrong 
 in her predictions. Charley's relations with the family 
 seemed to be on an excellent footing, the older members 
 calling him by his Christian name and treating him very 
 much as one of the family. With the young lady her- 
 self however, he was at first not so certain, as her timid 
 modesty caused her to hide her feelings before a 
 stranger. 
 
 The dinner passed off pleasantly enough, and so did 
 
74s PARADISE AND THE SERPENT. 
 
 the afternoon that followed, pai-ticularly that part of the 
 latter in which the young folks were left to themselves 
 in the parlor. 
 
 " Now we must have some music," said Charley, 
 opening the piano. 
 
 *' It must be Elma, then," said Miss Gachet. " You 
 know I never play when she is present." 
 
 " Now Mollie," expostulated her friend. 
 
 '' Not for company, I mean." 
 
 " She doesn't regard you as company, I suppose, Mr. 
 Charley?" 
 
 '' Oh, no, I'm home folks," he answered, good-humor- 
 edly, regarding with evident satisfaction ^liss JMollie's 
 blushing face. 
 
 *' Then you know Elma is the best musician," — ad- 
 dressing Charley — "and — and that you would much 
 rather listen to her. Besides, I know from Mr. Wynd- 
 ship's face that he is anxious to hear her sing again." 
 
 " I believe I'll turn this job of finding a musician 
 over to you, Mr. Wyndship, as you look like a man 
 capable of making the refractory obey," said Charley, 
 taking the vacant seat by Miss Mollie's side. 
 
 '' It is evidently you that I am expected to make obey. 
 Miss Owens." 
 
 The latter gave the two on the sofa a quizzical glance, 
 and then took a seat at the instrument. 
 
 " As in all probability you will be my only auditor,' 
 she said to Wyndsdip, who accompanied her, " it will 
 only be right to consult youi- taste alone. What shall I 
 play?" 
 
 " I'U leave that to you, if j-ou please. Anything from 
 you I know will be delightful." 
 
 " Don't be too certain about that," she answered 
 lightly. '' Some people think I have very singular 
 taste about music." 
 
 " I am willing to risk it." 
 
 She began a fashionable waltz, one of the latest pub- 
 lications at that time, but soon stopped. 
 
 " I do not lilie waltzes, Mr. AVyndship, and I am go- 
 ing to take j^ou at your word — give you the kind of 
 music that I lOve." The kind of music she liked was 
 just the opposite to what she had been playing — some- 
 thing grand, solemn and mournful, and in which passion 
 predominated over melody. She soon became absorbed 
 
BELLEVIEW. 75 
 
 in her theme, and seemingly oblivious to the presence of 
 others, and to the admiring gaze fastened on her face. 
 Though no musician himself, AVyndship was keenly sus- 
 ceptible to its influence, and now listened to its thrilling 
 strains with tlie highest enjoyment, only regretting that 
 it could not last forever. 
 
 " That is the kind of music I play when alone," she 
 said, without looking up, breaking the momentary silence 
 that followed the close of tlie piece ; '' but I expect it 
 will be enough of the kind for j^ou." 
 
 *' No ; but I don't want you to play any other instru- 
 mental piece just now." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 ''Because 3^ou would not play the same over again, 
 and nothing else could be near so beautiful." 
 
 "Then I had better stop." 
 
 " Oh, no ; sing some of your songs. I hope I am not 
 too exacting," he added deprecatingly. 
 
 " The victim should be entitled to choose the mode 
 of torture," she answered, with a smile ; " but I am ac- 
 cused of being as unreasonable in my taste in that line 
 as in the other." 
 
 " I certainly can afford to risk it this time." 
 
 She sang two or three songs at that time popular in 
 the South, some of which he had heard before, and then 
 commenced Moore's " Song of the Peri." This evidently 
 was one that she liked, for her voice and manner changed 
 at once, becoming earnest and absorbed as betOxC. 
 Her listener had heard it frequently, but never, he 
 thought, sung like it was then. Leaning against the 
 piano watching the singer, he felt impressed, both by 
 the words and music in a manner that he had hitherto 
 never experienced. He imagined that it was her pecu- 
 liar manner and voice, but the reader will probably 
 think — and correctly, too — that this was not the only 
 cause. Unlvnown to himself a glamour had come over 
 his perceptions, and henceforth where Elma Owens was 
 concerned, he could never be an impartial critic. In 
 after years, amidst other scenes and sterner duties, 
 with his soul enveloped in the gloom of sorrow and re- 
 gret, this present hour was never forgotten. That voice, 
 that song, that face, were never absent from his mem- 
 ory. No particulars of the surroundings were ever lost ; 
 the piano, the room, the soft wind stealing through the 
 
76 PARADISE AND THE SERPENT. 
 
 open windows, the golden September sunshine gilding 
 the swaying vines, all these were indelibly impressed 
 upon his mind and heart. It was a pictui'e like those of 
 the old masters, which time might dim, but could never 
 obliterate its beauties. Unconsciously he had passed the 
 frontier and entered the enchanted regions ; had drank 
 from the spring whose water produces either the greatest 
 of mortal happiness or the greatest of mortal misery. ^ 
 
 As she finished, their eyes met — what was it? No] 
 words can describe — only a woman's intuition can feel it. '; 
 Instantly her eyes dropped and her face colored. 
 
 " How do you like that?" she asked in a constrained 
 tone. 
 
 '' I have heard that song often before, but it never 
 seemed so beautiful before." 
 
 " I am afraid you are addicted to flattery ;" this time 
 her tone was unmistakably cold and distant. 
 
 " I don't think you will accuse me of that when you 
 know me better," he answered earnestly. " I am in- 
 debted to you for a great pleasure. I love music pas- 
 sionately, and somehow yours — but I can't describe it, 
 Miss Owens. I hope you believe me sincere?" 
 
 She did not answer, but rising quicldy, confronted the 
 couple on the sofa. 
 
 *'AVell, Mr. Charley Hurst, how did you enjoy my 
 music ?" 
 
 ''Oh, splendidly." 
 
 "Did you really?" 
 
 '' The most in the world." 
 
 ''Whatdidlplay?" 
 
 *'Why — let me see — ah! Convent Bells, Dixie and 
 — and other pieces." 
 
 Making him a low courtesy, she said, sarcastically, 
 <' I am very much gratified, indeed, sir, by your close 
 attention. It is a great compliment for you to remem- 
 ber even one piece, I hardly expected so much.'* 
 
 '' You wouldn't play when I asked you," he retorted, 
 seeing that she had trapped him, "but did for Mr. 
 Wyndship, so I got mad, and wouldn't listen." 
 
 "Mr. Wyndship didn't ask me, sir. It was you that 
 made the request, and just so soon as I commenced you 
 stopped your ears. Never mind, I will have my revenge 
 some day." 
 
 &he turned to an open window and stood looking out 
 
BELLEVIEW. 77 
 
 into the garden, her exquisite figure clad in light mus- 
 lin, being beautifully outlined by the green vines be- 
 yond. 
 
 " Let us go down to the pond and take a boat ride," 
 she suggested, after a moment's silence, without turning 
 her head. " It is getting cooler now." 
 
 This proposition seeming to meet with unanimous 
 assent — at least no objections were made — she contin- 
 ued, *' I will get your hat, Mollie — wait," and passed^ 
 quickly out of the room to return in a few minutes,! 
 swinging two wide-brimmed garden hats, differing only in 
 the color of their ribbons, in her hand. The one with blue 
 ribbons she handed to her friend, and placing the other 
 on her head, she appropriated Charley as an escort, 
 leading the way through a side-door towards the gate in 
 the hedge. Both she and Charley seemed in the high- 
 est spirits, and kept up a continual fire of gay badinage 
 and repartee, intermingled with merry laughter as they 
 proceeded in front. This merriment grated unpleasantly 
 on Wyndship's ear, although he could not have given 
 any reason for the fact. He was still under the spell of 
 her singing and could not understand how she could be- 
 come so quickly disenthralled. 
 
 " We make it a point to ask every visitor how they 
 like Belleview, Mr. AVyndship, so you will have to ex- 
 press youi* opinion." 
 
 " I think you ought to change its name to Paradise, 
 Miss Gachet. It certainly comes nearer being that than 
 any spot I have ever seen." 
 
 ''If you say that now, what would you think of it 
 next spring, when the flowers will all be in full 
 bloom?" 
 
 "I do not see how it could possibly be much more 
 beautiful." 
 
 " Oh, but it is ; it hardly looks like the same place. 
 We are all very proud of our home— of the gi'ounds and 
 flowers." 
 
 " You have a right to be. It must have cost a vast 
 amount of time and labor as well as expense, to bring 
 them to their present state of perfection. Youi' gardener 
 certainly understands his business." 
 
 "I think he does, as that is papa. We call him the 
 head gardener, and mother is liis first assistant." 
 
78 PARADISE AND THE SERPENT. 
 
 '^ I beg your pardon ; I was sui'e j^ou had the services 
 of a professional." 
 
 "Oh, no, we couldn't permit any stranger to tamper 
 with it. You see all of us are interested in its perfec- 
 tion. If any of the family are away on a visit, and see 
 or hear of any new flower or plant, we feel it our 
 bounden duty to secure a slip or cutting for Belleview, 
 otherwise, on returning, we would be accused of high 
 treason. We received a letter from my brother Leon, 
 who is now in Florida, last night. He writes that he 
 has secured several new tropical plants for the green- 
 house. Papa answered at once — last night — to be sure 
 and bring them. When he gets back you must come 
 out and see them." 
 
 W3mdship thanked her, but in his heart he doubted 
 whether he would care to visit Belleview after Leon 
 Gachet returned. 
 
 By this time they had arrived at the boat-house, where 
 they found ]Miss Owens already seated in the stern of 
 the little boat with her hand on the tiller. 
 
 " I am captain of this craft," she said. " Do j^ou all 
 want passage? Well, Mr. Hurst, if you will take a 
 hand at an oar you may get aboard. Mr. Wyndship, 
 I know nothing about 3'our seamanship, so 3^ou had bet- 
 ter take a seat in the bow and keep a lookout for break- 
 ers. Miss Gachet, I hardly know where you can stow 
 your little — ah, but it seems 3'ou are provided for," as 
 Charley assisted her to a seat at the other oar. " All 
 aboard." 
 
 After the boat had left the bank. Miss Owens, as if 
 to make amends for the distance she had placed between 
 herself and W^^ndship, addressed her remarks entirely to 
 him across the heads of the other two. 
 
 "Have you ever boated much, Mr. Wyndship?" 
 
 " I was raised on the banks of a river ; besides, boi.t- 
 ing was one of our principle recreations at college. 80 
 you see j'our doubts about my seamanship were mis- 
 placed." 
 
 " I will know better next time," she replied, with a 
 laugh and a slight change of color. " I suppose some 
 of the students are very expert with an oar?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 The monosyllabic reply was discouraging, but she per- 
 severed. 
 
*' AYe have some beaiitlf 111 streams for such amuse- 
 ment in Creorgin , but I have never heard of any of our 
 young men forming a boating club." 
 
 Although this was not a question, he though some re- 
 ply was expected. 
 
 ' ' I guess the craze has never been developed among 
 them yet." 
 
 " Or rather, our people are too indolent to care 
 for such exercise. Don't you think that is the reason?" 
 
 " I can't say. Maybe they think water was made to 
 fish in, and not to row over." 
 
 ''Be honest now, Mr. Wyndship, and confess that 
 you think the reason I gave is the true one." 
 
 " I will be honest. Miss Owens, and tell you I don't 
 know." 
 
 "It is not what you know, but what you think, that 
 I ask for ;" her eyes and smile were dangerously 
 bright. 
 
 ' ' Then I haven't thought about it — I haven't — your 
 reason, maybe the true one, and it may not — I can't 
 say." 
 
 ' ' I thought our reputation for indolence was too well 
 established at the North for you to have any doubt 
 about it." 
 
 ' ' Maybe you are mistaken in what you conceive to be 
 the Yankee estimation of the Southern people." 
 
 " At any rate, I see that I can't betray you into an 
 impolite speech. Don't you think it is better to be frank 
 than polite ?" 
 
 " Not always." 
 
 " AYhat exceptions should there be?" 
 
 " If you were a very homely young lady. Miss Owens, 
 it would be in better taste, and would be a kinder act for 
 me to politely ignore that fact than to frankly tell you of 
 it." 
 
 '' I don't know," she answered, laughingiy. "Now 
 I know it is politeness that prevented you from answer- 
 ing my questions just now ; and I will never know, here- 
 after, how much of what you say is kindness of heart 
 and how much is truth." 
 
 " I didn't say that we should tell falsehoods to be po- 
 lite, only — " 
 
 " Only to suppress the truth — that is not story-teU- 
 
80 JPARADISE AND THE SERPENT. 
 
 ing, I suppose? Gentty, sailors mine, we have reached 
 our destination, and our voyage is safely o'er." 
 
 Wyndship stepped out, and proceeded to tie the boat 
 to a tree without replying to the first part of her re- 
 marks. The others followed his example by placing 
 themselves on terra firma, except Miss Owens, who 
 stopped in the bow of the boat, with one foot on the 
 boat's side. 
 
 '' Your captain expects the thanks of her passengers," 
 she said, in the same lively tone that she had used since 
 leaving the house. 
 
 ''That must mean you, Mr. Wyndship," said Hurst. 
 " Miss Mollie and I acted as the crew." 
 
 " Oh, no," she replied, " you were only working your 
 passage." 
 
 Wyndship finished tying the boat, and although his 
 face looked red from embarrassment, he stepped forward 
 with as much gi'ace as he could command. 
 
 " Can I express my thanks by assisting your ladyship 
 to the shore ?" 
 
 " Your ladyship" (with considerable emphasis on the 
 title) "only wanted thanks — not pay." Springing 
 lightly past him without accepting the proffered assist- 
 ance, she went on in front of the other couple. 
 
 As if to cover the rebuff and to aid him in subduing 
 any discomposure he might feel, Mollie said quickly : 
 
 "' Welcome to Mosquito Paradise, Mr. Wyndship. 
 May your sojourn here be as pleasant to you, as doubt- 
 less it will be profitable to the native inhabitant." 
 
 ''That is hardly possible," suggusted Charley, "as 
 their profit must be his loss." 
 
 " How is that? — I do not understand." 
 
 " Ycu will if you remain long, and think the place 
 very well named, too, I warrant. The ' native inhabi- 
 tant' exacts tribute from all strangers within his terri- 
 tory at this hour." 
 
 They wandered slowly about through the natural 
 grove of beech, magnolia, and water-oak trees, at last 
 stopping where there were some rustic seats and a table. 
 These had been provided for the convenience of fishing 
 and picnic parties, as " Colonel Cachet's pond" was a 
 favorite resort with the neighborhood for such spring 
 and summer amusements. All of Charley's manoeuvres 
 to separate himself and Mollie from the other two, some- 
 
JiELLEVIEW. 81 
 
 how came to naught, in fact, to all appearances, it 
 would have been an easier task to have divided up the 
 other way, leaving Mollie to Wyndship, as the task of 
 entertaining the stranger devolved almost entirely upon 
 her. Their stay, however, was brief, as the almost twi- 
 light gloom which soon gathered under the intense 
 foliage overhead, warned them that the sun was going 
 down. 
 
 " I dare say, My. Wyndship has made the acquaint- 
 ance of the Southern mosquito by this time," said Elma, 
 brushing one of the pests from her cheek, " and as it ia 
 growing late, we had better return." 
 
 " Have you paid your tribute ?" inquired Charley. 
 
 " I believe I have — in part, at least," energeticallj^ 
 slapping one of his ears. 
 
 '•'' Well ; then it vrould be cruel to expose you to their 
 exactions any longer, as they never cry enough." 
 
 " Oh, you must register before you leave, Mr. Wynd- 
 ship," cried Mollie — " we require every visitor to 
 write their names here, and can't let you be an excep- 
 tion." 
 
 ' ' Where is your register ?" 
 
 '' We have several — you are leaning against one." 
 
 He turned, and noticed that the smooth bark of the 
 beech had been cut and carved with numerous initials. 
 Catching the idea, he rolled one of the seats to the foot 
 of the tree, and took out his pocket-knife. 
 
 "I am very aspiring, Miss Gachet, and am going to 
 place my name above all the others." 
 
 '' ' In the topmost niche of fame,' " slowly repeated 
 Elma, sinking down to a seat at the foot of an adjacent 
 tree to await the completion of the task. 
 
 Without knowing why, her tone rather increased the 
 secret irritation that he had been feeling since leaving 
 the house, but mounting the block, he commenced his 
 task, taking particular pains with the formation of his 
 letters. Mollie stood by watching his labors, and occa- 
 sionally making some remark, or suggestion. He was 
 finishing the last letter, when his fair critic 
 stopped suddenly in the middle of a laughing remark 
 about the exaggerated size of his W, as compared with 
 the others. Glancing down to ascertain the cause of 
 the interruption, he was startled by a look of ghastly 
 horror on her face. Her eyes were f.xed — seemingly 
 
82 PARADISE AND THE SERPENT. 
 
 fascinated — on some ten-ible sight, and her month was 
 open as if to scream, had her tongue not been paralyzed 
 by fright. Following the direction of her gaze, he saw 
 what sent a shock of horror through his own system. 
 Elma was seated on the out-spreading roots of a tree, 
 leaning slightly back, supported by one hand which was 
 half buried in a banli of green moss behind her, and list- 
 ening to Charley's description of an amusing incident 
 
 that had happened in , a short while before. Within 
 
 twelve inches of her arm he saw the erect head and dis- 
 tended jaws of a large snake, ready to strike its blow 
 into the soft white wrist of its unconscious victim. 
 There was not a second to lose — the least motion of 
 on Elma's part would precipitate the blow,- which now was 
 held back by the same cruel instinct of enjoyment, that 
 keeps a tiger from springing so long as its prey remains 
 quiet, and there is no visible effort of escape or rescue. 
 All this he took in at one glance, and despite the shock 
 it gave him., he almost as quickly devised the only possible 
 of rescue. The girl must not be warned, neither could 
 he make any movement to secure a v^eapon. Instantly 
 calculating the exact distance, and nen^ing himself for 
 the task, he sprang from the block, landing with his heels 
 upon the neck and body of the serpent. The action was 
 the signal that loosened Mollie's paralyzed tongue, and 
 gave utterance to the interrupted scream. 
 
 Elma sprang to her feet, bewildered by her friend's 
 exhibition of terror, and by Wyndship's unexpected ac- 
 tion ; nor did she become fully apprised of the danger to 
 w^hich she had been exposed, and her timely rescue, un- 
 til the latter had accomplished the destruction of the 
 enemy. As the truth dawned on her mind, she turned 
 deadly pale, but did not lose her presence of mind. 
 
 "Oh! Mr. Wyndship," she cried out, " you will be 
 bitten. Help — Oh ! Mr. Hurst — help him." 
 
 Charley seized a stick, but the Yankee's heels had left 
 him nothing to do to the snake — having most effectually 
 stamped and ground it into the trodden ground — how- 
 ever, his efforts were demanded in another way, and in 
 another direction. The terror and nen^ous excitement 
 of his sweetheart, who was, by far, the most excited one 
 of the gi'oup, appealed more strongly to his sympathies 
 just then than anything else could have done. He 
 
BELLEVIEW. 83 
 
 thought she needed the assurance of his protection, and 
 hastened to place it at her sel•^ice. 
 
 '' Oh! Mr.Wyndship, are you bitten?" cried Ehna, anx- 
 iously, as the young Northerner stepped aside, when 
 convinced that his victory was complete. " Are you cer- 
 tain that you're not bitten ?" 
 
 " Yes, Miss Owens, I'm not hurt in the least.'* 
 
 " I'm so glad — but you ought to be sure — you have 
 run a great risk." 
 
 '' No — it was you that was in danger, not me." 
 
 " I know — and I know that it was your promptness 
 that saved me. But you were in great danger, too — 
 great danger." 
 
 " Do not be alarmed — it did not have a chance to 
 bite me. I — I am thankful indeed, that — that I saw 
 it in time." 
 
 He was not only thankful — in addition to the joy he 
 felt at her escape, he was also secretly exulting over the 
 thought that he had placed this ghi under some obliga- 
 tions to himself, particularly^, as he suspected, that she 
 had been intentionally keeping him at a distance during 
 the latter part of the afternoon. Henceforth there 
 would be something of bond between them which she 
 could not honorably ignore. Not that he intended to 
 use this advantage, or presume on the slight service ; he 
 would have scorned the mere thought of such an inten- 
 tion, even had the obligation been ten-fold greater. No, 
 the distance placed between them by wealth and preju- 
 dice must be lessened by her, or forever remain ; but, 
 notwithstanding this proud resolution, he gloried in the 
 knowledge that he now had one claim on her considera- 
 tion. If she acknowledged it, and showed a disposition 
 to treat him as a friend, then he would gladly accept the 
 favor — if not — ivell, it didn't matter. 
 
 " It is a moccasin — a water-moccasin," said Charley, 
 as AYyndship pried the snake out of the trodden soil, 
 and hadvenom enough in him to kill a dozen men." 
 
 Elma's fears seemed to be freshly aroused at this an- 
 nouncement. 
 
 " Are you certain that it did not strike you?" she 
 asked again, looking anxiously down at the young man's 
 feet and ankles — "they are so deadly." 
 
 '* Very certain. Miss Owens. But are they so poison- 
 ous as that?" 
 
84 WYNDSHIP IS BITTEX. 
 
 " Yes," answered Charley, " as much so as the rattle- 
 snake, and are more to be dreaded, 'as they strike with- 
 out giving warning. Their bite is considered ahnost 
 certain death. You did the job pretty thoroughly, it 
 seems, and we need never fear another encounter with 
 his snakeship." 
 
 *' Oh, let us leave this terrible place," pleaded Mollie, 
 shuddering from head to foot. " I shall never want to 
 come here again." 
 
 Charley drew her hand through his arm and started 
 back to the boat, but all the reassuring power of his 
 protection did not prevent her from watching every step 
 with dilated eyes. 
 
 "I haven't thanked you, Mr. Wyndship — indeed, I 
 cannot express gratitude sufficiently," Elma said earn- 
 estly, as they followed. 
 
 '' Oh, yes, you have — far more than I deserve ;" and 
 the richer glow on his cheeks, and brighter sparkle in 
 his eyes, showed his keen appreciation of her gratitude. 
 " Is the snake one of Miss Gachet's native inhabitants, 
 too?" he asked, to check any further expression of 
 thanks. '' If so I have committed an aggravated mur- 
 der, in the eyes of the law — entered the victim's prem- 
 ises to do the killing." A slight tremor, that his com- 
 panion could not suppress, however, warned him that 
 this was not a subject of jest with her. He had noticed 
 and greatly admired her self-control, and now saw that 
 it was not caused by indifference or insensibility to the 
 danger she had run, but was the result of a strong will, 
 and a complete command of herself. This time she did 
 not refuse his assistance to her seat in the stern of the 
 boat, and by an arrangement of Charley's, to be near 
 MoUie himself, he was placed at the hindmost oar. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 WYNDSHIP IS BITTEN. 
 
 The encounter with the snake had effectually damp- 
 ened the spirits of the little party, and the row back 
 across the pond was in comparative silence. True, 
 Charley made an effort to rally their spirits, or rather 
 Mollie's spirits (for his attention was principally di- 
 rected to her) by playful and funny remarks ; but find- 
 
BELLE VIEW. 85 
 
 ing such attempts were futile, he lowered his tone to one 
 of tenderness and sympathy. So engrossed did he be- 
 come in these efforts at consolation, that he lost more 
 than one stroke of his oar, thereby sending their little 
 craft out of its direct course. Elma had perfectly re- 
 gained her composure and usual appearance, save, pos- 
 sibly, a slight paleness, but her late gayety was entirely 
 gone, and with it, seemingly, all inclination to talk. 
 Although nominally steersman of the crew, she paid but 
 little attention to that duty, so that AVyndship rowed in 
 silence, and to avoid her being disturbed, counteracted 
 the effects of Charley's false strokes by inaction on his 
 own part, until the boat came back to its proper course. 
 He thought she made a lovely picture as she sat with 
 one hand idly trailing in the water by her side and with 
 her shining eyes fixed on the western sky. And then, as 
 he watched her, he thought of the different moods and 
 phases of character that she had exhibited in one short 
 evening ; recalling to his mind those inunitable words of 
 Wordsworth : 
 
 •• She was a phantom of delight, 
 When first she gleamed upon my sight." 
 
 But then, he had already reached that condition in 
 which any mood she might assume would be certain to 
 have its attractions. 
 
 As the boat neared the landing she looked up, and 
 catching his fixed gaze, the color came quickly back to 
 her cheeks. 
 
 " Your thoughts were like mine, Mr. Wyndship, wan- 
 dering — were they not?" 
 
 " I was thinking, but my thoughts were not wander- 
 ing — at least, not so far as yours, which seem to be as 
 distant as yonder sunset." 
 
 '' Ah, but the sunset is not distant — not to me. Its 
 beauties are as near to me — belong as much to me as to 
 any one in all the wide world. Nobody is nearer it than 
 I, neither can any one deprive me of my share in its 
 glories. But I was not thinking of the sunset." 
 
 He handed her out and fastened the boat before re- 
 plying. In the meantime, the other two went on up the 
 path without waiting. 
 
86 WYNDSHIP IS BITTEN. 
 
 ''Yoiu- thoughts, then, were even more distant than 
 the sun ? " 
 
 " Do you challenge me to an exchange of confidence?" 
 she answered archly, with something lilve a return to her 
 tormer gaycty. 
 
 ''No — not this evening," he replied quickly, and 
 very seriously. " Possibly some other- time I will." 
 
 " Then I will be generous, and give you mine without 
 the exchange — that is, if the revealing of my silly 
 thoughts can be considered a generous act." 
 
 " Let me hear them, and I will be the judge of their 
 value." 
 
 " I was thinking of the expression, that ' Into every 
 Eden some serpent must creep.' " 
 
 " A very natural thought, when taken in connection 
 with our late experience." 
 
 " Yes, but how true it is in another sense. How im- 
 possible it seems for any human enjoyment to be perfect, 
 and how soon every earthly happiness is marred by — by 
 the entrance of the serpent. He visits every paradise — 
 stealing into the pleasantest retreats, and hiding beneath 
 the brighest flowers. Was it not a poetess of your own 
 section who said, ' The trail of the serpent is over them 
 air ?" 
 
 " I had hoped, and believed, that he had entered but 
 seldom into your life." 
 
 " AVhy so? Why should I be exempt from his visita- 
 tions any more than others ? " 
 
 " For the same reason that we do not expect storms 
 and hurricanes on a bright and cloudless day." 
 
 " But w^e do have them on such daj^s. The clearest, 
 brightest mornings sometimes come before the severest 
 storms, as the happiest prospects often end in the deep- 
 est misery." 
 
 " That is so, but who would have expected to hear 
 such gloomy precepts from your lips ? Who would have 
 suspected that such mournful truths had ever found 
 lodgment in your mind ?" 
 
 ' ' You speak as if I had never had trouble — as if I had 
 never had cause for sorrow. Have you forgotten that I 
 am an orphan ?" 
 
 " Pardon my carelessness — " 
 
 "It is true," she interrupted, " that my motLea: died 
 when I was very young, too young to realize the loss, 
 
SELLEVIEW. ft 7 
 
 but my father has not been dead so long that — that I 
 do not still feel the pain." The faltering manner in 
 which this was said touched the young man deeply, mak- 
 ing him feel that he had committed a dastardly crime, 
 in thus awkwardly probing a wound in her heart that 
 time had not yet healed. He hastened to express his 
 remorse in a manner so earnest as to leave no doubt of 
 his sincerity. 
 
 " Forgive me for touching so painful a subject, and 
 so thoughtlessly. It was an unpardonable blunder, 
 but I did not think. I had lost sight, for the moment, 
 of facts, in my wonder how dark sorrow could ever dare 
 to touch so bright an object." 
 
 She stopped instantly and faced him. A complete 
 change had come over her face, and her voice con- 
 tained more vexation — almost anger — than he had yet 
 heard. 
 
 '' Mr. "Wyndship, I hate flattery; and of all charac- 
 ters, 1 think the llatterer is the most detestable. Do you 
 wish me to assign you to that class ?" 
 
 This attack took him completely by surprise, and he 
 hun*iedly answered: "By no means — anything but 
 that." 
 
 She watched him for a moment keenly, as if to dis- 
 cover whether the sincerity and amazement were assumed 
 or not. 
 
 " Then you must quit uttering such nonsense." 
 
 " What nonsense? I haven't offered you any flattery 
 — at least, did not intend it as such. I spoke as I 
 would have done of some beautiful picture, or some 
 lovely scene, not thinking that I was implying any com- 
 pliment to you person all}^" 
 
 " You are the most incorrigible person I ever met," 
 she answered, resuming her walk, *' and the hardest to 
 understand." 
 
 " I did not know I was such a puzzle. Maybe, Miss 
 Owens, if you were to give me credit for possessing the 
 homely virtues of truth and candor I would not be so 
 hard to understand.". 
 
 " That is what I wish to credit you with, but j^ou 
 musn't put my faith to such severe tests. You know it 
 is a habit with young men to say pretty things to us for 
 effect — to please us. It does not please me.'* 
 
88 WYNDSHIP IS bitti:n. 
 
 An aiKlacious sparkle came into the j^onng Tnan*f3 
 eyes. 
 
 " I take it all back, Miss Owens, every word of it, 
 and instead will say, that I think it a very great injus- 
 tice shameful injustice for so homely a person as yourself 
 to be afflicted with the common troubles of life." He said 
 this on the spur of the moment, vrithout stopping to think, 
 and as soon as it was uttered, felt fer.rfully abashed at his 
 own audacity. 
 
 Smiles, however, chased every other expression from 
 Elma's face, as she answered, with reassuring sweetness : 
 *' That sounds so much better. Why didn't you say that 
 at first?" 
 
 '' Because it was not the truth, and, excuse me, you 
 know it was not." 
 
 Any other girl would have been profuse in denying, 
 or at least, in expressing a doubt of this fact, but Elma 
 was incapable of such affectation. She laughed lightly 
 to cover her defeat. 
 
 " I must acknowledge mj^self worsted, Mr. Wyndship, 
 as 1 have no reason to believe that my homeliness is so 
 conspicuous, still, would it not be better in conversation, 
 to leave out our personal appearance altogether? Not 
 to speak of it, I mean, unless necessary." 
 
 " There, I think you are right, and I only wanted to 
 show you that while my compliments, as you persist in 
 calling them, may have been in bad taste, still I was not 
 guilty of insincerity." 
 
 " Let us make a bargain, then. I will promise to al- 
 ways believe in your truth and candor, provided you 
 will not offer me any more flattery. What do you 
 say?" 
 
 ^' You must change your proposition a little, as it im- 
 plies that I have already been guilt}^, and that I cannot 
 admit. Leave out the word ' more,' and I accept." 
 
 "How very persistent you are. Well, they say a 
 ' Y\'iiful man must e'en have his own way,' consequently 
 I must accede to your demand." 
 
 " Thank you for the gracious concession." 
 
 " Of course nothing pleases a self-willed person more 
 than to force others to accept his terms. Now I know 
 I am doing wrong to humor j^ou, as it will only tend to 
 increase your stubbornness ; but it is so much less 
 trouble to give way sometimes, than to convince, even if 
 
BELLEVIEW. «9 
 
 that was possible, which I doubt very much, in your 
 case." 
 
 " That would be sacrificing duty to ease, would it 
 not?" 
 
 " And why not, when the task is so evidently beyond 
 my ability?" 
 
 As he did not reply immediately, she added, playfully : 
 *' Women are always entitled to the last word, Mr. 
 Wyndship, so you might as well make up your mind to 
 let .me have it." 
 
 *' Of course he will. Who ever heard of its being 
 otherv\ise?" said Charley's voice, directly at their side, 
 startling them both by its suddenness. They were in 
 the " flower yard," and the first couple had stopped to 
 wait for them, and were standing at a turn in the walk 
 where the shrubbery partly hid them from view. " That 
 must have been a very absorbing discussion, or quarrel, 
 which ever it was ? I believe you would have walked 
 over us if I had not spoken." 
 
 " What did you stop for, then, right in the middle of 
 the path?" retorted Elma. 
 
 " To tell you some good news," Charley answered 
 mischievously, *' Arthur is in the parlor waiting for 
 your return." 
 
 '' How do you know?" 
 
 " We met Minty coming after us," interposed MoUie. 
 " Mamma sent her. I — " she started to add, with a 
 pout, that she wished she had stayed away, but recol- 
 lected herself in time to check the inhospitable expres- 
 sion. 
 
 On entering the house, the young ladies went di- 
 rectly up-stairs, leaving the gentlemen to enter the par- 
 lor. There they found Mrs. Gachet entertaining a young 
 man whom Charley addressed as Arthur, and whom Mrs. 
 Gachet introduced to Wyndship as " Mr. Slaton." This 
 new acquaintance gave him quite an effusive welcome, 
 expressing no end of pleasure at the meeting, and so 
 forth. From the name, and strong resemblance, Wynd- 
 ship decided at once that he was a relative of the re- 
 fractory trustee, a surmise that was proven correct later 
 in the evening, when he ascertained that he was the eld- 
 est son of that gentleman. Nothwithstanding his fath- 
 er's pronounced hatred to all Yankees, and fierce oppo- 
 sition to the new teacher in particular, he tried to be 
 
^0 WTNDSHIP IS BITTEN. 
 
 more than cordial in his intercourse with the lattel'. 
 With extreme affability he expressed the hope that 
 their' 'acquaintance would soon ripen into something bet- 
 ter ;" and that he would be " vastly pleased, and highly 
 honored," could he regard our hero as his friend, and 
 much more to the same effect — far more than the latter 
 thought necessary for the occasion. For some reason 
 he could not explain — whether it was the prejudice he 
 already entertained towards the father, or whether it was 
 something in the young man's face itself ; in the thin 
 lips, high, narrow forehead, and uncertain gray eyes — 
 that caused the feeling of repulsion, he could not deter- 
 mine. He parried the advances as politely as he could, 
 so as to give the least cause for offense, and at the same 
 time keep before him a breastwork of reserve ; a 
 task that would have tried the resources of a much 
 more artful man than himself. The suspicion, in the 
 meantime, that his new friend, Charley, was secretly 
 enjoying the contest, did not add to his equanimity. 
 
 The young ladies did not join them until just before 
 tea was announced, the Colonel coming in about the 
 same time. AYyndship was hoping that the snake inci- 
 dent would not be mentioned, but the subject was 
 brought up at the table, and the Colonel insisted on 
 hearing all the particulars. AYhen Charley and his daugh- 
 ter, who did most of the relating, had finished, he was 
 very profuse in his praises and thanks to the hero of the 
 occasion, for the promptness and presence of mind he 
 displayed ; despite the latter's protestations that the inci- 
 dent was of no importance. 
 
 " It proves, sir, that you are possessed of two most 
 desirable traits, that of coolness and courage, in an 
 unexpected emergency." 
 
 "Anyone else could, and would, Aave acted as I did, 
 under the circumstances." 
 
 " I am proud to believe, sir, that most of our young 
 men are not deficient in the necessary courage to have 
 taken the risk ; but how many would have decided 
 what to do, and have acted on that decision, so 
 quickly ?" 
 
 " You are making a mountain out of a mole-hill," re- 
 plied Wyndship, consVlerably embarrassed by the prom- 
 inence given the adventure. 
 
 " By no means j the danger was serious and imminent, 
 
r.r.Tj.KviEW. 91 
 
 &s you would very well know were you iDetter acquainted 
 with the reptiles that infest our Southern swamps. Be- 
 sides, it is often in minor matters that great qualities are 
 first exhibited." 
 
 " In the spring, iNIr. AYyndship, when fishing and pic- 
 nic parties are in season, you will meet with your re- 
 ward," said his hostess kindly. " All the young ladies 
 will be wanting you as an escort." 
 
 With increased embarrassment he looked around for 
 something to change the subject, and he perceived Elma 
 watching him across the table, smilingly enjoying his 
 confusion. 
 
 ' ' And when we go muscadine-hunting next summer, 
 we will be certain to secure your services," she said. 
 
 "Or, rather, those of my boots," he answered, desper- 
 ately. 
 
 "Oh, we will need you to use them." 
 
 " What are muscadines. Miss Owens?" 
 
 " You don't mean that you are not acquainted with 
 muscadines, as well as moccasins?" 
 
 " I must acknowledge my ignorance." 
 
 " The muscadine," said his host, coming to his relief, 
 " is a species of grapes that grow wild in our Southern 
 swamps. They resemble the scuppernong in their 
 growth and taste." Much to Wyndship's satisfaction, 
 the Colonel then branched off on a description of Southern 
 fruits and flowers, which lasted almost as long as the 
 meal, and prevented a return to " the snake story." 
 
 When again in the parlor, Elma, as if desiring to 
 make amends for the " teazing" she had perpetrated at 
 the table, took a seat near Wyndship, and commenced 
 describing some of her summer experiences in the Ten- 
 nessee Mountains. Slaton followed, however, and man- 
 aged to appropriate most of the conversation, much to 
 the other's chagrin. The presence of a third party was 
 destroying his pleasure ; besides, he felt indignant that 
 one for whom he had contracted such a hearty dislike, 
 should be so free with his — friend. Not that he was 
 jealous — oh, no — that would necessitate his being in 
 love, and " Miss Owens was only a pleasant companion 
 and congenial friend." At first he thought of surren- 
 dering his claim and leaving the field to Slaton, but that 
 course would destroy all his hopes of a pleasant evening. 
 He could not endure the thought of having to listen to 
 
92 WYNDSHIP IS BITTEK. 
 
 the discussion of politics by Colonel Gachet until bed* 
 time, and what other fate could he expect, were he once 
 routed from his present position ? Therefore he recon- 
 sidered this decision, and exerted himself to the utmost 
 in monopolizing her attention to the exclusion of Sla- 
 ton, and for a short time Elma had her hands full be- 
 tween the two. Fortunately, however, the Colonel soon 
 came to the rescue by engaging Slaton in conversation 
 on some neighborhood matter. 
 
 Left to themselves, the next hour was one of unal- 
 loyed pleasure to Wyndship, in which, 
 
 «' Every moment lightly shaken, ran itself in golden 
 sands." 
 
 Her friends had said that when Elma was in the hu- 
 mor to talk, no one could be more entertaining. Whether 
 it was from a desire to entertain, or because of an ap- 
 preciative auditor who could understand and sympathize 
 with her thoughts, is immaterial ; but at any rate, if she 
 purposely desired to please and fascinate the Yankee 
 teacher, she could not possibly have excelled herself. 
 Her personal attractions had already dazzled his eyes, 
 and now the finer and more subtle allurements of her 
 mind and heart were weaving their potent spell. Min- 
 ute by minute the invisible cords were twining and 
 tightening more securely around him, while he, all un- 
 conscious of his fate, seemed to be greedily absorbing 
 the sweets the gods had provided, as if the i^resent bliss 
 could last forever. The presence of others in the room 
 was forgotten, or only remembered as if in a dream, as 
 he eagerly caught each word as it fell from the perfect 
 lips, and marked each sparkle in the dazzling eyes. 
 
 But his cup of bliss had its dregs, and before he knew 
 it, the wine was exhausted, and the bitter in his mouth. 
 Elma sudilenly halted in the middle of a sentence to hear 
 what Slaton was telling the others. The Colonel had 
 finished his topic vrith Arthur, and retired, and the lat- 
 ter, thinking, possibly, that it would be useless to re- 
 new his contest v/ith Wyndship, had joined the other 
 couple. The remark that attracted Elma's attention 
 was made somewhat louder than the ordinary conversa- 
 tional tone. 
 
i:i:m,i:\ ii:\v. 93 
 
 " There is going to be a mriiriage in ^Milledgeville, 
 soon." 
 
 " Who are the parties?' inquired Moliie. 
 
 Before answering, he satisfied himself by one quick 
 glance that all in the room were listening for his an- 
 swer, and then said, in a voice distinct enough to reach 
 the ears of all : 
 
 '' The lady, I believe, is an acquaintance of yours 
 — Mrs. Wilkerson, the rich young widow. The gentle- 
 man is named Smith, and he has been head clerk in Dar- 
 nell & Jones' dry-goods store for the past two or three 
 years. He is from Massachusetts, I believe — or from 
 one of the New England States ; and like most of our 
 friends from the North, is going to feather his nest very 
 nicely by his venture in the matrimonial line. You 
 know they always keep an eye on the main chance, and 
 in all their undertakings, a sharp look-out for the prof- 
 its." 
 
 There was not one in the room but fully understood 
 the object, or knew the animus that prompted this speech, 
 and the mouent's silence that followed was appalling. 
 
 Wyndship was dazed, the effect being pretty much 
 the same as if a bucket of ice-water had been unexpect- 
 edly thrown over him. His lute string had been sud- 
 denly broken, his dream rudely dispelled, and for the 
 instant chaos was the result. Then came the reaction 
 with a hot flush of indignation and wrath. His face 
 burnt ; his eyes flashed fire. Had he and Slaton been 
 alone at the time, undoubtedly the latter w^ould have 
 suffered for the sneering insinuation. He struggled hard 
 to retain his self-control, and to hide the passion that 
 wa3 boiling in his breast, fortunately remembering that 
 a pair of dark eyes were anxiously watching his face ; 
 although he did not understand, hardly heard, in fact, 
 the remark that she kindly made to break the pointed 
 silence. 
 
 With the most perfect assurance imaginable, Slaton 
 crossed the room to where the two were sitting, and 
 asked Elma to favor them all wath some music. 
 
 " After a while, Mr. Slaton," she coolly rejoined, and 
 turning again to Wyndship, attempted to renew their 
 conversation. The charm, however, had been 
 broken, and she could only elicit short, but respectful 
 replies. Despairing of success, and still wishing to 
 
94 WYNDSHIP IS BITTEN. 
 
 make some amends for the iusult he had received, aS 
 well as to soothe his wounded feelings, she said, with 
 just a tinge of coquetry : 
 
 " I don't believe you want to hear me play to-night." 
 
 " Oh, 3^es — besides, there is your friend waiting for 
 you. I'll not detain you." Motioning towards Slaton, 
 Yv'ho stood hj the piano looking at some music, and 
 still wearing his air of child-like innocence. 
 
 There was no mistaking the words and manner, there- 
 fore, somewhat nettled, she left him without another 
 word. 
 
 AYyndship felt like he must do something, so he 
 moved nearer a table, and taking up a photograph al- 
 bum, aimlessly commenced turning over the leaves. 
 Mollie approached, and endeavored to entertain him by 
 naming and describing the persons whose pictures it con- 
 tained. This was hard work for both of them — he find- 
 ing it impossible to even affect an interest in what she 
 was saying. The room felt hot and close, his collar 
 choked him, and he longed for an excuse to get out into 
 the open air. At last, in desperation, he said : 
 
 " Miss Gachet, can you tell me where I can find your 
 father?" 
 
 " I expect he is in the library, Mr. Wyndship. I'll go 
 and see." 
 
 " No" — qnickly detaining her — " I know the room, 
 and will go in there." 
 
 He found the Colonel alone, occupied with his papers. 
 
 "Come in — come in and have a seat. Tired of young 
 folks' nonsense, eh?" 
 
 " I don't wish to interrupt you, Colonel, and have just 
 stepped in to bid j^ou good-night." 
 
 " Ah, your long ride this morning has tired you, 
 and you wi&h to retire ? I should have thought of that 
 sooner, knowing that you were not used to equestrian 
 exercise. Well, I wiU ring for Tony, who will atten.. 
 you to your room." 
 
 " But I am going to return to Mr. Martin's to-night, 
 and just came — " 
 
 "What! going back to-night? Why, we expected 
 you to remain until to-morrow — you must remain." 
 
 " I'd better return to-night, I expect." 
 
 " Oh, no ; lam sure there exists no necessity for 
 your returning." 
 
belli: VIEW. 95 
 
 Wyudship hesitated, trying to tliiiik of some excuse 
 to offer — something behind which the real reason might 
 be hid. 
 
 '' I fear you have hot found your visit pleasant, to 
 wish to leave us now?" 
 
 "Oh, yes I have — that is not the reason, I assure you, 
 but I — '' he started to say, expected to return when he 
 came, but the recollection that this was not the truth, 
 checked him. " I — I ought to be at home early in the 
 morning. I promised to assist Johnnie Hall with his 
 Sunday school lesson." 
 
 " Then if you will go, I will order Tony to get the 
 buggy out. Come in and have a seat ; it Avill not take 
 him long." 
 
 " You must not go to that trouble. The distance is 
 short, and I can easily walk it." 
 
 The Colonel bridled up in an instant. 
 
 " Mr. AVyndship, I hope that you do not think that I 
 would allow a guest of mine to walk to Somerville at 
 this time in the night, when I have a servant, a horse, 
 and a vehicle idle. No, sir, Antonius muct either take 
 3^ou home, or you must stay." 
 
 There was no doubt of his host's firmness on this 
 point, so AVyndship saw that he must either abandon his 
 intention, or accept the coiive3^ance. It was then grow- 
 ing late, and he disliked to cause the extra trouble, so 
 why not remain ? He could walk home in the morning 
 before breakfast, before the family were stirring ; be- 
 sides, his " heat" had been gradually subsiding since 
 leaving the parlor and it no longer seemed so impossible 
 for him to spend the night at Belleview. 
 
 " Rather than put Tony to so much unncessary 
 trouble, I will remain until morning, and walk home be- 
 fore breakfast." 
 
 "Very sensibly decided, all but the 'before break- 
 fast.' " 
 
 " I must certainly go before breakfast," insisted the 
 young man, taking a seat. The idea of returning to the 
 parlor was now even more unendurable than that of dis- 
 cussing politics with his host ; particularly, as he knew that 
 the latter would do most of the talking, and would only 
 require a passive listener. This would give him time to 
 regain his cquanimit3^ An editorial which the Colonel 
 had just read in his favorite newspaper, "The New 
 
96 MRS. MARTIN SPEAKS HER MTND. 
 
 York Day Book," gave him a congenial subject ; conse- 
 quently, as a listener was all he wanted, the two could 
 not have been better suited. 
 
 About bed-time they were interrupted by Charley 
 Hurst, who came in to say good-night, and propose to 
 Wyndship that he accompany him down to his father's 
 plantation some Friday evening, and go " coon-hunt- 
 ing" with the negroes. "An amusement," he added, 
 " that will be entirely new to you, I dare say, and whose 
 novelty will make it enjoyable, notwithstanding its 
 roughness." 
 
 Wyndship suspected that this extra courtesy was in- 
 tended as some reparation for the insult he had re- 
 ceived from Slaton, and thanked him without either ac- 
 cepting or rejecting the invitation. Slaton left at the 
 same time that Hurst did, and soon after the family and 
 their guest retired to their rooms. Notwithstanding the 
 sedative effects of the Colonel's politics, our 3'oung 
 friend had some hours of restlessness in which to think 
 over the events of the past twelve hours, and ponder 
 over the intent and meaning of Slaton's fling at Nortliern 
 fortune-hunters. 
 
 He arose next morning at sunrise, intending to slip 
 avvay without disturbing any of the household, but in 
 this, he again reckoned without his host. Before he 
 had finished putting on his clothing, Tony appeared to 
 give his coat and boots another brushing, and to inform 
 him that the buggy was ready whenever he wished to 
 leave. The use of the latter he was compelled to ac- 
 cept, as Tony declared that " Ole Marsa would des eber 
 lastin' skin dis nigger er live, if I wus ter let yer 
 walk." 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 WrNDSHIP AS A PHILOSOPHER MRS. MARTIN SPEAKS HER 
 
 MIND. 
 
 As we have noticed, all the hours that Wyndship 
 spent in bed that Saturday night, were not devoted to 
 sleep ; to the contrary, he wooed the fair goddess of 
 dreams unsuccessfully for a long time, before she deigned 
 to notice his supplications. But these hours of restless- 
 
BELLEVIEW. 97 
 
 ness were expended in a profitable occupation, or else 
 he greatly deceived himself. He survej^ed the incidents 
 of the last twelve hours as calmly and dispassionately as 
 the condition of his brain would allow ; coming to what 
 he considered, as a wise and unalterable decision in re- 
 gard to his present condition and future course. He 
 acknoAvledged to himself that he had found the society of 
 Miss Owens peculiarly agreeable — that she had come 
 nearer filling his ideal of a perfect woman than anyone 
 he had ever met — but all this was nothing to him. Were 
 she ten times more lovely and attractive, she would still 
 be Miss Owens, the heiress, with whom he could hold no 
 possible relation ; not even that of a friend, for no mat- 
 ter how pure and disinterested his intentions might be, 
 they would still be subject to misconstruction by others. 
 Were he to seek her society i:)urely for friendship's sake, 
 his motives would be derided and condemned as those of 
 a fortune hunter. Aye, on the strength of this one visit 
 to Belleview, Slaton would be telling it about through 
 the neighborhood, that the new Yankee teacher was al- 
 ready trying to '' feather his nest" by making love to 
 the richest girl in the county. This was gall and worm- 
 wood to his soul, and he mentally resolved, that if he 
 ever heard of his doing so, he would choke the black 
 lie down his throat. On the account of such misrepre- 
 sentations of his motives, he must avoid even the ap- 
 pearance of evil, and deny himself even the pleasure of 
 her friendship. He realized how great a deprivation this 
 would be, but then he would suffer a far greater loss be- 
 fore he would knowingly assume, in appearance even, 
 the role of a fortune-hunter, and subject his character 
 and motives to the aspersion of such a reptile as Sla- 
 ton. 
 
 Were he as deeply in love with her now as he felt that 
 he could love such a woman — a love as deep and bound- 
 less as eternity — still he would conquer the passion, 
 subdue and destroy it, no matter what might be the cost. 
 But, thank Heaven, this was not the case, he was not 
 in love, and so long as he kept his senses, would take 
 care not to be. 
 
 ** What care I how fair she be, 
 If she be not fair for me?" 
 
 This point being settled, it only remained for hun to 
 
98 MRS. MARTIN SPEAKS HER MIND. 
 
 pursue such a course, to so conduct himself the few 
 times he would be thrown in her company, as to give no. 
 grounds for the accusation. This, he decided, would be 
 easy enough, as he would have no time to waste in the 
 pleasures of society. The future that he had mapped 
 out for himself did not permit of such indulgences now 
 — as it was to be accomplished by his own efforts, he 
 would have no time for dilly-dallying. The ladder of 
 fame and fortune stood before him, and up its treach- 
 erous rounds he must climb, with the only assistance 
 of youth, good health, and determination. Hitherto, 
 aml)ition had been a duty, and the goal only the result 
 of the labor which Providence had decreed for his hands 
 to do — the laurel crown had been coveted, more because 
 it was the reward of a well-completed task, than for 
 any satisfaction to be derived in its possession. But 
 now — this night — there had come a change ; ambition 
 had suddenly developed into a passion so intense, that 
 it seemed impossible to await the slow fruition of usual 
 events. The goal must be reached by some shorter 
 route — by some flight that would annihilate the long and 
 dusty highway. But how was this to be done? Had 
 he discovered a royal road to the mountain-top ? Many 
 another young imagination of twenty-five summers have 
 thought they had, and why shouldn't he? Few young 
 men have started out to win fame, who expected to wear 
 a silvery crown before they gained the green one. 
 
 When all this had been accomplished — when the 
 masses of mediocrity were far below, instead of all 
 around him, then he would select just such a woman as 
 Elma Owens for a wife. Ah, but would he find her? 
 "Would he ever again meet with her counterpart? The 
 question went like a knife through his heart, and : 
 
 •' Thou Shalt hear the * Never, never,' whispered by the phan- 
 tom years.' " 
 
 *'What, back already? When did you come, last 
 night, or this morning ?" was Mr. Martin's greeting, as 
 he walked in|to breakfast. 
 
 "This morning." 
 • **Acid so m^ wife sacrificed her feelings of per- 
 
BELLEVIEW. 00 
 
 sonal security in leaving the front door unlocked for no 
 purpose. I expect she imagined that there was a burg- 
 lar under every bed in the house before morning, \yell, 
 it is just what I expected." 
 
 *'I didn't get up to look for any, Mr. "Wyndship. 
 You remember what he told you yesterday morning, 
 about the door never being locked ; so there was no sac- 
 rifice in the matter. You need never apprehend giving 
 us any trouble by coming home late." 
 
 " I did intend coming last night, but Colonel Gachet 
 would not hear to my walking — insisted on having a 
 horse and buggy brought out — so I concluded to stay all 
 night." 
 
 " And, ' like an Arab,' silently stole away this morn- 
 ing before the family were awake." 
 
 "That was my intention, but before I was fairly 
 di'essed, Tony came up and notified me that the buggy 
 was ready. So you see, I did not get to walk, after 
 all. I did not see any of the family, however, and ex- 
 pect they were all asleep." 
 
 ''Did you enjoy your visit much?" 
 
 " Very much indeed," he responded, with a mental 
 reservation as to part. He proceeded to describe his 
 experiences at Belleview at length, omitting, however, 
 two incidents — that of the snake encounter, and Slaton's 
 criticism of Northern fortune-hunters. Of neither of 
 these could he bring himself to speak ; in fact, a listener 
 would have thought that most of his time had been spent 
 on the plantation, and that there was where he found 
 the only items of interest, so chary was he in relating 
 the occurrences of the afternoon. 
 
 In pursuance of the resolution he had made to him- 
 self, he returned to his duties Monday morning with re- 
 newed zeal. In the wearying routine and exasperating 
 labors of the school-room, he expected to banish from 
 his mind the fascinating effects of his glimpse into 
 " paradise." A less conscientious man, knowing that 
 his present pursuit was only a temporary occupation, to 
 be discarded as soon as he obtained the necessary funds 
 to commence the practice of law, would have thrown in- 
 to his labors just enough zeal to have secured his reten- 
 tion, and no more. But with Wyndship, duty was a 
 sacred word. The maxim, " Whatsoever thine hand 
 find to do, do it with all thy might," had been early in- 
 
160 JIRS. MAllTIN SPEAKS HER MIND. 
 
 stilled into his youthful mind. Besides, he thought, 
 what better antidote can there be for the poison of dis- 
 content, than engrossing occupation— what better means 
 of expelling from his thoughts the tantalizing fancies, 
 the insidious longings, that had been excited by that 
 visit to Beileview? What ever means were needed, 
 what ever exertions that were necessery, must be used 
 for the accomplishment of this object ; and the sooner, 
 the better. His future welfare, his honor, and his self- 
 respect demanded it. He did not add happiness, because 
 he did not consider that in the least involved — his hap- 
 piness, like his fortune, was to be self-made, and would 
 be all right as soon as he got rid of this delirium of his 
 imagination. 
 
 But the ensuing two weeks did not bring the relief he 
 expected ; despite all his resolves, and all his efforts, 
 the delirium would not be cured. Often and again, a 
 lovely face and a pair of dark eyes would arise before 
 the figures with which he was elucidating a problem, and 
 a voice, w^hose thrilling tones icoidd be heard, would 
 arise above the monotonous droning of his grammar 
 class. In vain he took himself to task for such shame- 
 ful weakness. Self-indignation did not exorcise the 
 spectre. Then, too, fate seemed to be determined to 
 bring about chance meetings with the siren. Once at 
 the church, where he accompanied Mrs. Martin the next 
 Sunday. After services were over, his companion 
 stopped at the door to_ speak with Elma, and of course 
 he had to do likewise. Again, one evening after school, 
 he came face to face with her in a store, where he had 
 gone to make some little purchase, and common courtesy 
 required a response to her pleasant greeting, and, 
 also, that he attend her across the street to her convey- 
 ance. 
 
 All this could not be prevented, but he reassured him- 
 self that his own strength would prevent any disastrous 
 results. AVhat harm was being done ; even if he could 
 find no pleasanter subject for thought in the solitude of 
 his evenings — even if her face did appear occasionally 
 in his dreams ? If we could not store delightful experi- 
 ences away in our memories for future entertainment, 
 how fleeting would be the pleasure we would derive 
 from the beauties of art and nature ? Moreover, had he 
 not already resolved in his own mind that he would not 
 
BELLEVIEW. 101 
 
 fall in love with Elma Owens ? and did not this resolve 
 settle the matter? "VYhat greater safeguard could he 
 possibly have? Experience, that inexorable teacher, had 
 not yet taught him that "man's resolutions were des- 
 tiny's shuttle-cocks," and that what we most resolve 
 not to do, is often the very thing we are most certain to 
 do. Thus, at one time determining to avoid exposure to 
 temptation as much as possible ; and at another, that 
 this precaution was wholly unnecessary — that he was 
 proof against all temptations from that quarter — he beat 
 back and forth, utterly unconscious of his own incon- 
 sistency, and thinking about her all the time — the most 
 dangerous thing he could possibly do. 
 
 The month of September passed by, and the lingering 
 heat of summer gave place to the cool nights and pleas- 
 ant days of October. Nature slowly doffing her rustic 
 suit of green, began to assume the royal robes of au- 
 tumn, dyed in the brilliant hues of scarlet and purple. 
 The seats on the open porch were voted too cool for oc- 
 cupation after supper, and were discarded for the more 
 comfortable ones in Mrs. Martin's sitting-room, where, 
 by every admissible means, the old couple endeavored 
 to entice Wyndship away from his studies. In the short 
 time he had been with them, he had thoroughly won their 
 esteem and confidence, and they left nothing undone to 
 make his home with them a pleasant one. Doubting the 
 sufficiency of their own company to satisfy his social 
 cravings, tliey tried, in different ways, to bring him in- 
 to contact with that element of Somerville society that 
 they tliought would be most congenial. Of course tliis 
 element included the family at Belleview — Mrs. Martin 
 having seemingly changed her mind as far as danger to 
 him was concerned, either deceived by his apparent in- 
 difference, or else thinking the chances of his meeting 
 T>'ith a disappointment less than she at first supposed. 
 
 Among the devices she thought of to add to his enjoy- 
 ment was that of having a " social" party at her own 
 house. Ever since they were married she had been ac- 
 customed to give the young people occasional entertain- 
 ments of this character, and " Mrs. Martin's socials" 
 had become one of the institutions of the neighborhood, 
 deservedly popular with both sexes. So one evening 
 about the middle of the month, before Wyndship re- 
 tired to his night studies, she broached the subject. 
 
102 IVmS. MARTIN SPEAKS HER MIND. 
 
 '' Some of the young people have been begging me to 
 give them a ' sociable,' " she said, '^and I believe 1 will 
 have to comply." 
 
 Wyndship looked up with some interest, but said 
 nothing. 
 
 " I know you must find it very dull here," she con- 
 tinued, addressing him direct, " and that would help you 
 to get acquainted with the young folks." 
 
 ' ' You are mistaken ; I do not find it dull here in the 
 least." 
 
 ''Oh, but you must. Don't you think, now, that it 
 will be a pleasant relaxation from your studies ? " 
 
 " Are you giving it for my benefit? " 
 
 '' Yes, in part." 
 
 " Well, I don't think that I need the relaxation, be- 
 sides, it will interfere with my school duties." 
 
 '' No ; I will have it on some Friday night, so that it 
 will not interfere with your school." 
 
 ''I do not need any relaxation," he repeated. 
 
 " Yes, you do. You are injuring your health by 
 studying too hard, and need more exercise and recreation." 
 
 " My health is all right, and I can stand much more 
 work and study than I am doing." 
 
 '• Not in this climate," intei-posed Mr. Martin. " Re- 
 member, you haven't been acclimated yet." 
 
 " People don't have to be acclimated to such a de- 
 lightful climate as this is now. I have passed the dan- 
 gerous month." 
 
 Mr. INIartin shook his head, but said nothing. 
 
 '' I don't wish to be selfish, but I suspect that Mrs. 
 Martin intends it for my benefit ; and if that is the case, 
 I don't want her to go to the trouble." 
 
 " Don't you think you will enjoy it? " 
 
 "' Not so much as our quiet evenings here alone, like 
 this one. I heard you say, the other day, that you always 
 gave some kind of an entertainment in Christmas week ; 
 why not wait until then ? " 
 
 "Well, if the 3'oung folks will let me off. Mrs. 
 Gachet gives Leon a birthday party next week, and I 
 reckon that will do for the present." 
 
 " As for exercise, I promised Johnnie Hall and two 
 or three of the boys to go with them down to ' the hills,' 
 as they called it, after hickory nuts next Saturday. As 
 we will walk, that will give me plenty of exercise." 
 
BELLE VIEW. 103 
 
 *' Rather too much in one dose. It is a good idea to 
 go, but not to walk.^ You must take my spring wagon," 
 said Mr. Martin, who, after this point was discussed, 
 changed the subject, by remarking : 
 
 *' By the way, I met Leon Gachet, this evening in a 
 condition that I was very sorry to see." 
 
 " He was not drinking, I hope?" said his wife, in a 
 questioning tone. 
 
 '' Yes, and had entirely too much for his good. He 
 was with Arthur Shiton, returning from Milton, where 
 the two have been since day before yesterday." 
 
 " What a pity ; and he has been back from Florida so 
 short a time. How much it w^ill distress the family, par- 
 ticularly his father." 
 
 " His father is not at home — has gone to attend a 
 Breckenridge and Lam mass-meeting in Milledgeville — 
 and the family will hardly know anything about it. They 
 were not going in the direction" of Belle view", and I 
 reckon Arthur will take care of him until he sobers 
 up." 
 
 ^' His intimacy with Arthur Slaton is not going to 
 do him any good," said Mrs. Martin, with considerable 
 energy. 
 
 ** Maybe his society will not benefit the latter, either?" 
 suggested her husband. 
 
 *' It w^on't do him any harm. Nothing can do that — 
 can make him any more despisable than he is. He has 
 some motive in becoming so thick with Leon Gachet, and 
 you will see it some day." 
 
 " I am afraid you don't appreciate young Mr. Slaton's 
 culture since he returned from College," said her better- 
 half, with a quizzical smile. 
 
 '' I would like to know w^hat he learnt at college, but 
 to talk glib and put on airs. Oh, yes, I forgot, he 
 learnt to write." 
 
 " To write?" queried Wyndship. 
 
 *' Yes — to write a good hand, and different kinds of 
 hands, I mean." 
 
 '' I didn't know chirography was considered so im- 
 portant in the South ; I find great trouble in getting my 
 students interested in its practice." 
 
 " That is about Arthur Slaton's only talent, I 
 reckon," 
 
104: MRS. 3IARTIX SPEAKS HER MIND. 
 
 " But he conducts himself very well, don't he?" asked 
 ]Mr. Martin, in the same tone as before. 
 
 ' ' I don't care if he does — that don't alter my opinion 
 of him in the least. If there ever was a ' snake-in-the- 
 grass,' that snake is Arthur Slaton. He may deceive 
 some people by his hypocritical ways, but not me." 
 
 Now Wyndship had never mentioned Arthur's insult- 
 ing remarks about Northern adventurers, which had ex- 
 cited his ire so deeply in the parlor at Belleview, but 
 Mollie Gachet had to Mrs. Martin. The latter, dislik- 
 ing the one, and esteeming the other so much, had re- 
 sented it keenly. Delicacy forbade her mentioning the 
 subject to Wyndsiiip, so she made use of the opportu- 
 nity to express in his presence her opinion of his enemy, 
 and her husband being in the secret, and guessing her 
 desh-e, made his suggestions in Arthur's favor, that she 
 might have a better chance to relieve her mind. 
 
 * * * * * * 
 
 *' Well, Mr. Wyndship," she said, as he arose to go 
 to his room, "you can try Mrs. Gachet's party, and if 
 that dissipation proves to have a* bad effect, I will defer 
 mine until Christmas." 
 
 '' I don't think I will attend." 
 
 " Why?" she asked, in real, or assumed surprise. 
 
 " In the first place, I will probably not be invited ; 
 and if I am, will not go for the same reason that I ob- 
 jected to yours." 
 
 "You will be invited, I know, because jMoUie said 
 she was glad that her brother's birthday fell on Friday on 
 your account, and — I want you to go." 
 
 For what little things we will all change " our minds" 
 so completely. But a short while back JMrs. jMartin felt 
 it her duty to discourage Wyndship from visiting Belle- 
 view, and now she was urging him to go. It is true that 
 his apparent indifference was deceiving her, as well as 
 himself, to the true state of the case ; still, if she had 
 known all, and even if he had avowed a determination 
 to lay seige to Elma's heart, she would have given the 
 same advice ; and, moreover, have entered the field her- 
 self as a brave and active ally. She believed in fair 
 play, and did not relish the idea of his being driven 
 from the companionship of such a gul as Elma hj the 
 sneers of such a rival as Arthur. 
 
BELLEVIEW. 1)5 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 PARADISE AGAIN. 
 
 Mrs. Martin's assertion about the invitation proved 
 {correct, and with it came a note from Miss Mollie, ex- 
 pressing the hope " that he would gratify them by ac- 
 cepting, etc." Given in this gracious manner, he thought 
 it would be the height of boorishness not to attend. In 
 the meantime, he had met Leon once or twice, but either 
 from a little secret unconfessed jealousy, or from some 
 cropping out of the latter's arrogance, the interviews had 
 not tended to produce any friendly feelings on Wynd- 
 ship's part. He imagined that the young Georgian was 
 rather disposed to look down on the " Yankee teacher," 
 and his own sensitive pride took fire at once. Conse- 
 quently, it was with conflicting emotions that he started 
 to Belleview on the appointed evening. A reluctance 
 to go where he had doubts of his welcome by all the 
 family, was strangely intermingled with a thrill of de- 
 light at the prospects of once more tasting the sweets of 
 Elma's society. Nor did he stop to consider the likeli- 
 hood of these sweets again turning to ashes on his 
 tongue. Had he not already prepared against such a 
 result? Had he not already decided on a course, which, 
 faithfully carried out, would prevent all misconstruction 
 of his motives? Certainly he had. This time he would 
 stand aloof, and only let his eyes partake of the feast. 
 Even a beggar might look at a queen with impunity. 
 
 He had no cause, however, to find fault with his re- 
 ception. Even Leon's manner was studiously polite, 
 and he showed unusual interest in procuring him intro- 
 ductions to such ladies as he had not met before. As 
 host, Leon always shone to best advantnge, for it was 
 part of his exorbitant pride — necessary, he thought, for 
 the honor of himself, and his name, that lie proved his 
 acquaintance with, and his ability to perform the duties 
 of that position. The ordeal of entering was not noar 
 so bad as Wyndship expected — Mrs. Gachet and Mollie 
 both received him too kindly to doubt their welcome. 
 When through with tlie first introductions, he found him- 
 self near a lady with whom he was already slightly ac- 
 quainted, and whom he knew^ to be of uncertain age, and 
 possessed of little property. Taking the vacant seat at 
 
106 PARADISE AGAIN. 
 
 her si^le, he imdertook to add something to her enjoyment 
 of the evenhig. When dancing commenced, Leon cam-.' 
 round and invited him to participate, but finding that 
 his companion had "religious scruples," he declined, 
 and continued to devoted himself to her entertainment. 
 This was dull, and with Ellma just across the room, very 
 hard work, but he persevered, and thereby won the un- 
 dying gratitude of one who had too often played the role 
 of wall-flower not to appreciate his attentions. 
 
 This did not pass unobserved by those present, and 
 more than one smile and whisper passed around about 
 Miss Sallie's conquest, and the "Teacher's devotion in 
 so unpromising a quarter." 
 
 " It looks like love at first sight," whispered Slaton to 
 Elma. 
 
 " I expect it does to you^'" was the rejoinder, with 
 an emphasis he did not exactly understand, or relish. 
 
 "Mr. AY3nidship, don't you dance?" asked MoUie, 
 approaching after the second set had been finished. 
 
 " Sometimes, but — " 
 
 " Then you must dance this set," she said, interrupt- 
 ing him. " Miss Sallie will excuse you." 
 
 " Certainly," said that lady, too grateful to be sel- 
 fish. 
 
 " Come, then, and I will get you a partner. Let me 
 see — there is Elma ; possibly she is not engaged — I know 
 you would like to dance with her." 
 
 " I will not dance, Miss Gachet, unless you will be 
 my partner." 
 
 " Very well," she answered, with a laugh, wondermg 
 why his face had turned so red. 
 
 When the set ended it left them near where Elma was 
 sitting. Still holding her partner's arm, Mollie turned 
 to her friend. " Now, Elma, you must sing some- 
 thing." 
 
 " I expect the others wish to dance." 
 
 " Oh, no, not now. Brother has sent off for another 
 violin, and old Tom. We are not going to dance any 
 more until they come. Make her sing, Mr. Wyndship ; 
 I know you want to hear her sing." 
 
 " Very much," he answered, too much pertui'bed to 
 make a coherent reply. 
 
 "Why, Mr. Wyndship," said Elma, archly, "you 
 don't expect me to believe that, I'm certain. 1 haven't 
 
BELLEVIEW. 107 
 
 forgot Iiow nncorPiTionionsly you walked out of the room 
 the hist time 1 tried to entertain yoii with my poor sing- 
 ing." 
 
 The flush on his face, and the incoherence in his 
 speech both increased, as he tried to stammer out some 
 apology. 
 
 " Oh, you needn't try to explain," she interrupted, 
 evidently enjoying his confusion ; " actions speak louder 
 than words." 
 
 MoUie had slipped away, leaving him to his fate, and 
 this was not rendered any more comfortable by the fact 
 that Slaton, not far off, was watching his embarrassment 
 with a smile of malicious pleasure on his hypocritical 
 face. Elma saw the smile, too, and rising, she contin- 
 ued in a softer tone : 
 
 '' Revenge is sweet, and I am going to pay you for 
 the mortification of my former failure by making you 
 stop both ears. I know you won't run before all this 
 .crowd." 
 
 Seating herself at the instrument, she continued to 
 sing until the arrival of " Old Tom" and the other 
 violin. 
 
 " I have not stopped my ears. Miss Owens," said 
 Wyndship, with a tremor in his voice that was not caused 
 by embarrassment. 
 
 " Then I have been ampl}^ revenged." 
 
 Hardly had she left the piano, when Arthur approach'^d 
 to anticipat3 Wyndship in securing her for the set just 
 beginning. 
 
 '^ I am engaged for all the dances I expect to partici- 
 pate in to-night, thank you," was her reply ; then turn- 
 ing to Wyndship, she continued : " I have" some water- 
 color sketches from nature that I wish to show 3^ou — un- 
 less you prefer the dancing ?" 
 
 ^'1 prefer looking at the sketches," he answered 
 quickly. 
 
 " Then let us go into the other room ; my portfolio is 
 in there ; besides, it is not so crowded." 
 
 Leon Gachet was coming up on the same errand that 
 had proved fruitless to Slaton, just as she took Wynd- 
 ship's arm, and moved away. A shade of vexa*^tion 
 crossed his dark, handsome face as he Avatched their re- 
 treating forms. 
 
 '' Disappointed?" whispered Slaton, from behind. 
 
108 PARADISE AGAIN. 
 
 " No. I was only going to ofifer to secure the fellow 
 a partner, if he wished to dance," Leon answered eva- 
 sively. 
 
 " He has the partner he wants. You could not suit 
 liini — " The rest of the sentence was lost, as the other 
 turned impatiently away. Leon did not like to hear 
 even his friend Arthur make such insinuations. Elma 
 might amuse herself with the Northerner a little, but 
 that was all, he thought. Disappohitment would be the 
 fellow's reward, should he presume to fall in love. i 
 
 " I am afraid. Miss Owens, that I am robbing you of 
 enjoyment," said Wyndship, as they seated themselves 
 on a sofa, with a large portfolio between them. 
 ''How?" 
 
 " By depriving you of the dancing." 
 " Not much depVivation in that; I do not care for 
 such amusements, and if you can stand the loss, I 
 can." 
 
 He did not tell her that Paradise itself could hardly 
 give him greater enjoyment than tlie present promised, 
 but he could have done so, and told the truth. This 
 candor, however, could not be expected, for he did not 
 himself, at that time, realize that such was the fact. 
 
 '' The sketches are from nature," she explained, open- 
 ing the portfolio, " and are scenes and views of the 
 Cumberland mountains in Tennessee, where I spent sev- 
 eral Aveeks during the summer." 
 '' They are yours, I suppose?" 
 
 '' No, the work is not mine ; so you need not be afraid 
 to criticize them — that is, if they deserve criticism. I 
 think them very fine." 
 
 The views were of wild mountain gorges and cliffs, re- 
 lieved by occasional bits of quiet, peaceful nature in 
 some sleeping valley. They possessed considerable 
 merit, and Wyndship did not hesitate to express his ad- 
 miration. Assured that his fair companion was not the 
 artist, he spoke his opinions freely, pointing out what few 
 faults he thought they contained. But these were few 
 indeed ; with her soft breath upon his cheek, and her 
 white, graceful hand and wrist so near his own, it was 
 not within his power to find fault with anything. Had 
 the drawings been ever so ordinary, her presence, the 
 radiance, the glamour that surrounded him, would have 
 gilded and glorified them into something divine. 
 
BELLEYIEW. 109 
 
 From this their conversation drifted to other subjects, 
 to the incidents of her visit, to books, literature, ? nd 
 even into the dangerous field of poetry. Elma could not 
 onl}^ talk Tvell herself, but she also had the rare tact of 
 making her companion talk. She made him forget his 
 personality — forget the resolves he had so lately 
 formed — forget their relative positions, of the rich 
 Southern heiress and the poor Northern teaclier ; and 
 made him exhibit the inner and better side of his char- 
 acter and mind, and in doing so, laid bare her own most 
 brilliant and attractive side. Nor was the enjoyment all 
 on one side. Every one she met did not yield so readily 
 to the touch of her magic wand. To meet with one who 
 could understand and apj:>reciate her finer thoughts and 
 feelings, and follow her vivid flights of imagination, was 
 a treat, not the less enjoyable on account of its rarity. 
 So to the two, the minutes took to themselves golden 
 wings and flew away, leaving them all unconscious of 
 their departure. 
 
 As the seductive pleasures of the card-table, or the 
 wine-glass plays sad ha'^'oc with resolutions of reform, 
 and causes the*^ tempted to forget the vows of an awak- 
 ened conscience, so did AVyndship, intoxicated by the 
 nectar held to his lips, forget his former experience. 
 
 How could there be dregs in so delicious a draught? 
 
 * * * * * 
 
 " Oh, here she is, Mr. Gachet ; we have found her at 
 last." The speaker was a ycTung lady from Milton, and 
 was accompanied by Leon Gachet. " We have been 
 looking for j^ou everywhere, Elma" — everywhere meant 
 throughout the other room — " and feared some genii had 
 carried you away." Genii and magician were all the 
 same in that young ladj^'s lexicon. 
 
 " They have brought me back, dear Miss Catherine — 
 if they did." 
 
 The young lady pouted her childish lips in momentary 
 displeasure. She abhorred the name of Catherine and 
 wished to be called Kate. A feeling of irritation at the 
 interruption, prompted Elma to the little act of spite, 
 which she regretted a moment afterwards. 
 
 " I am sorry to interrupt your tete-a-tete," said Leon, 
 in a tone that brought W^^ndship to his senses with a 
 jerk ; " but mother is inquiring for you." 
 
 ^' AVhere is Mrs Gachet?" 
 
110 PARADISE AGAIN. 
 
 u 
 
 In the other room. I think supper is ready, hut 
 possibly you two were too much al)Soii)ed in art and its 
 kindred subject, to care for such an earthly occupation 
 as eating, just now?" 
 
 Elma coolly ignored the taunt implied in his words. 
 Opening her watch, she exclaimed, in accents of sur- 
 prise : " Wh}^ it has been an hour and a half, Mr. 
 Wyndship, and still you haven't examined them all — " 
 but very little of the time had been devoted to the sketches 
 — . " Well, we will have to finish the inspection some 
 other time." 
 
 " I think it will be best, though, if it is important, 
 I can make your excuses," said Leon again, in the same 
 manner. 
 
 '' Thank you. We will not give you that trouble," 
 Elma answered, defiantly. 
 
 W^aidship straightened himself up, and for ini instant 
 the two men looked each other squarely in the eyes. 
 After that look neither of them ever had any doubts as 
 to the relation they were to hold to each other. TuruiVjig 
 to Elma, Wyndship said : 
 
 " I must apologize, Miss Owens, for selfishly con- 
 suming so much of your time. I had no idea that it had 
 been so long." 
 
 " Why should you? I am sure that no harm has been 
 done — I have enjo^^ed the hour and a half as much as 
 you have." 
 
 This frank admission, which was uttered in a voice 
 sufficiently loud to reach the ears of ail in the room, 
 caused "Miss Catherine" to open her eyes in blank as- 
 tonishment. In the conventional school where she had 
 received her training, young ladies were not taught to 
 express themselves quite so candidly, in speaking of 
 their enjoyment of young gentlemen's society. Leon 
 bit his lips in the effort to suppress his vexation, and his 
 strong desire to throw off the restraints of politeness 
 long enough to invite the Yankee to leave the house. 
 Wyndship's emotions were more varied — admiration for 
 his fair companion's brave independence, aburningdesire 
 to openl}^ resent what he regarded as Leon's impertinence, 
 and remorse for so soon breaking his self-imposed rule 
 of conduct — his " lapsus crimen" under the first tempta- 
 tion. Elma alone looked perfectly unconcerned, as she 
 coolly took his arm to be taken to Mrs. Gachet. 
 
BELLEVIEW. Ill 
 
 **By the T\'ay," she said, as they left the room, *'have 
 you met my friend, Mr. Harris ?" 
 
 *' No, I think not." 
 
 *' Well, I want you to know him. He is here to-night 
 — happened here accidentally, on business. He was 
 a very dear friend of my father's, and I esteem him very 
 highly." 
 
 She was not satisfied with the wish alone, but imme- 
 diately hunted the gentleman up, and introduced them. 
 To \Vyudship's secret satisfaction, Mr. Harris turned 
 out to be. not a young man, but one apparently between 
 forty and fifty, ayIio seemed to have quite a fatherly re- 
 gard for Elma. He also found him very pleasant and 
 agreeable. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 INSANITY BY THE ^TIOLESALE. 
 
 The beautiful month of October passed like a dream, 
 but its pleasant days and cool nights had no effect in 
 allaying the 1)urning fever of political passion, whose 
 delirium had taken fast hold on the American people, 
 threatening the life of the " Great Republic." Under 
 its maddening frenzy, all restraints of reason and pm- 
 dence were cast aside ; while from border to border, from 
 ocean to ocean, the masses raved like Bedlam turned loose. 
 The counsels of prudence, andof statesmanship, were un- 
 heeded and each faction seemed determined on carrying out 
 its particular line of policy, regardless of what the conse- 
 quences might be to themselves or to the country. One 
 party alone appeared to have some method in its mad- 
 ness, and amidst the wild confusion, was delivering 
 deadly blows to its divided and warring opponents. 
 The young giant of Republicanism, enthused with the 
 fanaticism of reform, was seizing every coigne of advan- 
 tage, and making such rapid strides of conquest in the 
 North and West, that no second sight was necessary to 
 foretell its coming victory. 
 
 " Whom the Gods destroy, they first make mad," 
 was never more strikingly exemplified than it was that 
 fateful year, in the condition of the Democratic party. At 
 the very time v^hen harmonious action was most ueces- 
 
112 insaxiTy by the whulesalk. 
 
 sary for success ; when all its combined strength was 
 needed to resist the attacks of an aggressive adversary, 
 it was torn with dissension, divided in policy and lead- 
 ers, and seemed determined only on self-destruction. 
 The idiotic blindness and criminal folly of its pilots had 
 driven the good old ship on the breakers, where the 
 waves of disaster were beating with irresistible force 
 against its bulwarks, threatening to submerge not only it, 
 but the government it had so long protected. As the 
 *' Ides of November" drew near, and Lincoln's election 
 became a foregone conclusion, the leaders at the South 
 raisi'd the cry of secession, as if another and more 
 danniable error could counteract the effects of the first. 
 The matchless eloquence of a Tombs and a Yancey was 
 already enlisted in the cause of disunion ; and this gift 
 of Heaven was being freely used to convince their fel- 
 low-citizens that in secession lay the only hope of self- 
 preservation. 
 
 Amidst all this excitement, ^Vyndship kept on the 
 even tenor of his way, as far as his duties as teacher were 
 concerned. A feAV of his patrons were showing an un- 
 abated interest in the school, and a warm appreciation 
 of his labors to make it a success ; and, encouraged 
 thereby, he persisted in his efforts. He became more 
 prudent, if possible, in the utterance of his opinions ; 
 realizing how important it was that he keep clear of the 
 political cauldron that boiled around him. Like many 
 others, he fancied that when the election was over and 
 the result determined, a reaction would come, and the 
 people would settle down, quietly accepting the verdict 
 of the polls ; but such did not prove to be the case, and 
 Lincoln's election only increased the cry of "Secession." 
 The states' right doctrine of the great Calhoun had been 
 too sedulously taught throughout the South ; and, to se- 
 cede from the Union was almost universally believed to 
 be a constitutional right. Even the most conservative 
 citizens regarded it as hardly a debatable qm stion, and 
 the strongest Union men fought it purely on the grounds 
 of policy. 
 
 The echoes of the last gun of the Presidential Cam- 
 paign had scarcely died away before the forensic battle 
 was renewed on the new issue of Union or Secession. 
 No rest was taken ; not an hour for dispassionate 
 thought, not a moment for the angry excitement to cool. 
 
feELLEVlEW. " lis 
 
 In one ni<?ht, as it were, the old party lines of Whig and 
 Democrat, and the later ones of Douglas and Brecken- 
 ridge were effaced, and the next morning's sun saw the 
 people arrayed in opposing liosts upon this new issue of 
 Secession. Caucus followed caucus — convention after 
 convention — mass-meeting succeeded mass-meeting — 
 speeches upon speeches, until the electrified air could 
 bear no other sound, while the wild carnival of reckless- 
 ness went on. Alas, the Union party, too small at first, 
 grew rapidly smaller, and was finally swept away by the 
 on-rolling tide of revolution. 
 
 All the efforts of Stephens, and the few conservatives 
 like him, were futile in checking the flames. The 
 time for extinguishing the conflagration had passed. 
 Yeare of fiery passion had so prepared the fuel, that like 
 a AVestern prairie fire, it nmst burn itself out, must take 
 its onward course until all material was exhausted, 
 leaving naught but cinders and ashes in its path. 
 
 Even in the quiet and secluded little village of Somer- 
 ville, excitement ran higher and higher, as the end of 
 the year drew near. One party, the most numerous, 
 supported by the influence of Colonel Gachet, were for 
 *' immediate secession from that Union, wherein their 
 dearest interest, their most cherished principles, were 
 threatened with destruction." Opposed to them were a 
 smaller party, headed by Dr. Ilurst and Mr. INIartin, 
 who strove in vain to check the progress of what they 
 regarded as as an impolitic and unnecessary course. 
 Wyndship, though keenly sympathizing with the latter, 
 studiously abstained from open participation in the strife. 
 It was hard for him to realize that the majority were in 
 earnest — in fact, it is doubtless true that many of them 
 did not intend or desire a final separation, and adopted 
 secession only as a means of forcing a compromise from 
 their enemies of the North. When this was accomplished, 
 as they fondly hoped, then they would return to the 
 Union with all the old vexed questions connected with 
 slavery forever settled. 
 
 Under the pressure of political excitement the ordin- 
 ary course of social life became diverted from its cus- 
 tomary channels and the customary round of holiday 
 festivities was abridged to a great extent. Even the 
 younger part of the community caught the prevailing in- 
 fection, and forsook social parties and balls for political 
 
114 INSANITY BY THE WHOLESALE. 
 
 meetings, and the almost daily disciissioii. Notwith- 
 standing all this, and notTvithstandiug his close attention 
 to his duties and studies, Wj-ndship would still be thrown 
 occasionally in Elma's society, as if fate had conspired 
 to bring them together. Her treatment of him was al- 
 ways the same, friendly and cordial ; and she made no 
 effort to hide her enjoyment of their talks on literature, 
 art, and kindred subjects. Each meeting increased the 
 admiration he already felt, but he was confident of his 
 power of self-control, and saw no reason why he should 
 refuse the sweets which fate was continually throwing in 
 his way. He reassured himself with the thought that no 
 one could rightfully accuse him of purposely seeking her 
 society, as he went no moretoBelleview ; and then, there 
 was no love-making between them, or likely ever to be. 
 
 It is said that a woman discovers the love she has 
 won even before the man does v^'ho feels it ; but this 
 might not have been the case with Elma, as she had been 
 too little interested in love matters and flirtations during 
 her life to be well acquainted with all the symptoms. 
 True, his eyes and manner may have given her a hint of 
 the truth more than once, but then, these were contra- 
 dicted by his conduct afterwards. She understood 
 something of his sensitive pride and aversion to be ing 
 called a fortune-hunter, but had she not shown him that 
 she did not regard him in that light ? And had he not 
 seen how contemptuous!}'' she treated Arthur Slaton and 
 his insinuation ? Cousequeiitl}^ as his conduct toAvards her 
 was generally not at all lover-like, the warmth a few times 
 exhibited must have been nothing more than friendly 
 esteem, which it would not be wrong to encourage, as it 
 could not possibly result in any harm. This may have 
 been the way she reasoned it out. 
 
 She had another reason for encouraging this friend- 
 ship — one that was purely selfish. As intimated by 
 Mrs. Martin, Elma's futm-e had already been decided on 
 by at least two of the family at Belleview. Colonel 
 Gachet very much desired a marriage between her and 
 his son. Extravagance and bad management had, of 
 late years, brought him somewhat in debt, and Leon's 
 expensive tastes and habits being right smart of a bur- 
 den, he was beginning to feel some uneasiness as to the 
 result. He felt that it was high time that his son was 
 settling down to a more useful life than he had been 
 
BELLEVIEVV. 115 
 
 leading ; and assume some of the load that was resting 
 on his own shoulders. P^lma's fortune offered the easi- 
 est way out of the difficulty, and if this marriage could 
 be consummated, the drain that Leon made on his income 
 would be checked ; besides, should it become necessary, 
 he could then borrow from his son until more prosperous 
 times enabled him to pay it back. His sense of honor 
 did not permit him to use his ward's money before she 
 became his daughter-in-law : but then, he reasoned, it 
 would be perfectly admissible, as it would go to pre- 
 serve intact an estate that must eventuall}?- descend to 
 her husband and her children. But these mercenary 
 considerations were not the only reason why he desired 
 their union. He had a genuine esteem and affection for 
 Elma, and regarded her as being in every w^ay eminently 
 qualified to become his son's wife. Of the very few 
 young ladies he thought worthy of that honor, she was 
 the first choice ; and it appeared to him, as it did to 
 many others, as the most natural match in the world, 
 and the most suitable one that either could make. 
 
 Leon agreed perfectly with his father on this subject. 
 He had half fallen in love with Elma during the preced- 
 ing summer, when she spent her vacation at Belleview. 
 Of course, this fancy, had he never seen her again, would 
 have soon succumbed to the influence pf separation and 
 the charms of others : but he saw her often enough dur- 
 ing his visits to Macon in the fall and winter that fol- 
 lowed to keep it alive : and when he returned from 
 Florida, and found her girlish promise of beauty fully 
 realized, it at once ripened into a passion which ignited 
 all the combustible material of his fiery Spanish heart. 
 Believing that she was still " heart-whole and fancy- 
 free," and knowing full well the value of his own attrac- 
 tions, personal, financial, and social, he did not think 
 there would be any difficulty in persuading her to be- 
 come his wife. Comparing himself with all the " possi- 
 ble" young men of his acquaintance, he could find none 
 whom he need dread much as a rival ; consequent^, he 
 felt confident of success ; but even with this comfort- 
 able assurance his impetuous nature did not alloAv him 
 to take things easy, so he lost no time in laying siege to 
 the heart and hand of his father's w^ard. 
 
 Elma was not blind to his personal good looks and 
 brilliant prospects, but with her these considerations had 
 
116 INSANITY BY THE WHOLESALE. 
 
 little weight — she wanted something more than family, 
 wealth, and manly beanty in a husband. She read his 
 character too clearly — understood too well the S'4{ish 
 egotism that domineered over his better traits, to 
 return his passion, and quietly tried in every way to 
 avoid his attentions without giving offence. This she 
 disliked to do, on account of the respect and affection 
 she felt for his family, fearing that a direct refusal 
 might cause them pain. Her position was a trying one, 
 out of which she was sometimes tempted to escape, 
 through the medium of making a visit to her friend, Mrs. 
 Harris, in Macon. 
 
 But they would all think strange of this excuse, as it 
 had been so short a time since she returned from Tennes- 
 see. Moreover, she thought that, by coolness and in- 
 difference, she could keep him at a distance until, becom- 
 ing convinced that his suit was hopeless, he would with- 
 draw his pretensions. But in this conclusion, " she 
 reckoned without her host." Feeling assured that he 
 would ultimate^ succeed, difficulties only increased the 
 prize in the eyes of Leon Gachet. He thought her cold- 
 ness was caused by maidenly modesty and reserve, 
 which his ardor would soon overcome, so, while inwardly 
 cursing her prudency, he continued his attentions. It 
 required all of Elma's tact to keep him aloof, and in or- 
 der to do so, it was necessary, both at home and abroad, 
 for her to constantly seek the guardianship of others 
 present. She made good use of her female friends, but 
 there were times when these were not available — when 
 the companionship of the other sex was not only ex- 
 pected by social customs, but also when it simply could 
 not be avoided. The supply of young men around 
 Somerville was limited, not much exceeding the four 
 that have been introduced. Of these, Charley Hurst 
 she knew to be the sweetheart of her friend, and there- 
 fore must not be interfered with, to that young lady's 
 detriment or annoyance. Arthur Slaton's society was 
 hardly endurable ; she could not suppress the feeling of 
 repugnance she felt in his presence, enough to encour- 
 age the attentions he was ever ready to bestow^ Thus 
 Wyndship was almost her only resource, and, therefore, 
 in self-defense, she encouraged him to remain at her 
 side whenever circumstances threw them together, as 
 much as she could without beino; forward and indelicate. 
 
BELLEVIEW. 117 
 
 It was the carrying out of this policy on her' part which 
 caused the long tete-a-tete over the water-color sketches 
 on the night of the birthday party ; or, rather, that was 
 what started it — mutual enjoyment caused its prolonga- 
 tion. 
 
 She found "Wyndship a very uncertain dependence — 
 one liable to fail her at the most critical moments. In 
 the first place, he did not visit Belle view any more ; and 
 in the second, he did not seem disposed to always avail 
 himself of the opportunities he met with elsewhere. 
 This she could not understand ; for, when once by her 
 side, he showed too plainly that it was not caused by 
 any aversion to her personally. Neither could she un- 
 derstand why he should hold back on account of any 
 imaginary social gulf between them, when any one with 
 half his intelligence could see that none existed ; nor 
 why a citizen of "Free America," whose education, 
 ability, and moral character made him the peer of any 
 gentleman in the country, should place so much stress on 
 the mere accident of fortune. Such a course would in- 
 dicate the weakness of false or morbid pride, and he 
 seemed to be made of stronger stuff than that. This in- 
 consistency in his behavior excited her curiosity, and 
 caused her to think of him more, to study his character 
 more clearly than she otherwise would have done. These 
 abrupt transitions from friendly, almost lover-like 
 warmth, to cold reserve, she did not like ; but she did 
 like his company, and like every other daughter of Eve, 
 she did like his respectful admiration. 
 
 If Leon did not see the hopelessness of his suit, his 
 sister did. The intercourse between the two girls had 
 been so confidential in its tone, that even the absence of 
 explicit confidence did not prevent Mollie from seeing 
 how matters stood. She regretted the failure of her 
 brother very much, but it did not for one moment affect 
 the loyalty to her friend. If Elma should never be her 
 sister in name, still she would always hold that relation 
 in her heart. With Mrs. Gachet, there was little differ- 
 ence. The Colonel's will had been her only law through 
 married life, and because he desired it, she wished Leon 
 success. She was of that quiet and unobtrusive temper- 
 ament, however, that try to rule others only when duty 
 required it, and in this matter was as passive as her re- 
 spect for her husband's wishes would permit. The 
 
118 YOUNG AMERICA TO TUE RESCUE 
 
 motherless girl committed to her care, had appealed to 
 her heart at its tenderest point, aud held a place in her 
 affections next to her own daughter. If Elma could 
 not love her step-son, she had no desire to see them uni- 
 ted in marriage. As for the Colonel, he was too busy 
 just at this time in urging the sovereigns to '^ hurl back 
 a defiance at the Northern foe in the shape of an Ordi- 
 nance of Secession," to p^.}" much attention to this other 
 cherished project. 
 
 Some of the Colonel's enthusiasm on this subject was 
 imbibed b}^ his son ; in fact, as we have already noticed, 
 the prevailing political excitement extended to all, more 
 or less — to the young as well as the old, and to the 
 women as well as the men. Even a lover's attention 
 w^as sometimes distracted from the object of his devo- 
 tion — indeed, this was no time for sighing at a lady's 
 feet, when one nation was seemingl}^ dying that another 
 might be born ; consequently, Elma's task was a little 
 easier than it might have been under other ciicumctau- 
 ces. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 YOUNG AMERICA TO THE RESCUE. 
 
 Mrs. Martin decided not to give up her cnstotnary 
 Christmas party. " It is all the more desirable now," 
 she declared, " for, possibly it may, for a few hours, at 
 least, draw the minds of my masculine guests from the 
 subject of politics." So, on the appointed night, she 
 welcomed the young people to her house, giving them a 
 carte blanche to enjoy themselves as they pleased, 
 and to the fullest extent — with, however, one restriction, 
 and that was, that the subject of war, or of secession 
 must not be mentioned. 
 
 " I have given Mr. Wyndship and Mr. Martin their 
 orders beforehand," she added, laughingly, " and I now 
 give you yours. The mention of either of these forbid- 
 den topics by any of you will be regarded as a heinous 
 crime, and punished accordingly." 
 
 Wyndship was in exceeding bad plight for this party, 
 which he knew was given for Jiis benefit. As he was re- 
 
feELLEVlEW. 119 
 
 turning from school a few evenings before, he was 
 joined by Arthur Ski ton, who, serenely ignoring his 
 coolness, persisted in walking with him as far as Mr. 
 Martin's gate. Arthur was always friendly, and to all 
 appearances, was perfectly innocent of ever having 
 given the Northerner any grounds for regarding him in 
 any other light but that of a friend. On that evening 
 he was unusually cordial, and took all of Wyndship's 
 short responses in the best of humor — in fact, he grew 
 very confidential, and proceeded to reveal a secret as 
 yet unknown to any one but himself. Passing over the 
 manoeuvres and preparatory talk that led up to it, and 
 the innuendos necessary for its proper adornment, we 
 will give the sum and substance of this secret in a few 
 words. It was, that Leon Gachet and Elma Owens 
 were engaged to be married ; that Elma had loved Leon 
 for a year or more ; that she had been flirting with other 
 young men for the purpose of exciting his jealousy, and 
 to spur him on to a declaration ; that by nature she was 
 an arrant flirt, but that she had found her master in 
 Leon, and would soon have to reform ; that the family 
 at Belleview were in high glee over the match, as it 
 would unite two of the largest fortunes in Georgia ; and 
 so on, ad nauseam. 
 
 This was a very simple ruse ; one whose falsehoods 
 were extenuated by neither cunning nor originality, but 
 it answered Arthurs purpose. Had it been about any 
 one else,Ayyndship would not have given it the least at- 
 tention — into one ear and out the other it would have 
 gone, treated with the contemptuous indifference it and 
 its author deserved. But there is something in the hu- 
 man mind, some weakness, or taint of insanity, that 
 keeps the average man or woman ready to believe evil 
 in those they most adore. Is it hereditary depravity? 
 constitutional sin? the promptings of the devil? or is it 
 the effects of a subtile poison, into which Cupid dips his 
 arrows ere he wings them on their flight? At any rate, 
 Arthur's blow struck home. 
 
 He bade his victim good-day at the gate, with effusive 
 expressions of friendship, and urgent invitations to 
 come out to his father's place some Saturday, that barely 
 hid the gleeful malice in his smile. The latter was past 
 all smiling. The pain in his heart removed the scales 
 from his inward vision, revealing the fact, that notwith- 
 
120 YOUNG AMERICA TO THE RESCUE. 
 
 standing all bis resolutions to the contrary, he loved 
 Elma Owens. His vaunted self-control had been a de- 
 lusion and a snare ; the philosophy and heart discipline 
 on which he so proudly relied, nothing but a broken 
 reed. Unconsciously, to himself, he had been false to 
 his principles and to his pride, and no amount of re- 
 morse could now undo the mischief, or relieve his heart 
 from the magic spell. Above his self-reproaches rose 
 the voice of the jeering sprite, torturing him with the 
 truth, that no woman would ever be the same to him 
 that she might have been ; nor that life would ever be 
 what it might have been. 
 
 He believed that he had hid his emotion from Slaton's 
 eyes, and not wishing to meet any one else just then, he 
 laid his books on the porch, and went around the house 
 and out through the orchard behind, seeking the friendly 
 solitude of the woods beyond. About dusk he returned, 
 and excusing himself from supper on the plea of head- 
 ache, retired to his room. He did not stop to consider 
 the character of his informant, or the improbability of 
 the tale he told ; his soul did not rise up in righteous 
 anger against the slanderer of the woman he loved. 
 Slaton's truth or falseness mattered not ; neither could 
 condone his own criminal folly, or brighten the dark- 
 ness of the future. His passion was wrong and hopeless, 
 and these two convictions were as much as he could bat- 
 tle with at present. 
 
 So the pleasant sensations with which he had been 
 looking forward to this party, when he would have the 
 delight of w^elcoming Elma as host, w^ere destroyed com- 
 pletely. Not that there would be no pleasure in meet- 
 ing her again, for no matter how deep might be his 
 mortification, or how great his pain, the thought of being 
 in her presence again sent an intoxicating thrill through 
 his heart ; but henceforth he must act as an utter stranger 
 should ; must sit away off and take his part of the feast in 
 looks alone. There must be no more glimpses into Paradise ; 
 no more confidential chats ; no more enchanting songs 
 sung for his benefit alone ; he dared not risk this since find- 
 ing out how weak his self-control had really been. His 
 secret must be kept hidden at any cost, and in almost 
 total abstinence lay his only safety. 
 
 Leon had not progressed with his wooing as rapidly as 
 he desired ; in fact, in reviewing the situation, it seemed 
 
BELLEVIEW. 121 
 
 to him as if the time since his return from Florida had 
 been wasted, as far as winning a wife was concerned. 
 So he determined to make up the lost time, and during 
 the week before the party, Elma found his attentions 
 unusually annoying. Wearied with the continued labor 
 of evasion, she came to the party, hoping for one night's 
 respite, at least. " Miss Catherine" was expected from 
 Milton, and her known admiration for Leon gave Elma 
 some hopes of assistance from her, which, coupled with 
 that of Mrs. ^lartin and Wyndship, might enable her to 
 spend one evening in peace. She could not avoid riding 
 with him in going, (as Charley Hurst carried Mollie) ; 
 and on the road she inwardly vowed to invent some 
 stratagem which v/ould change the programme on return- 
 ing. She would call the young lady " Miss Kate" or 
 even Katie this time, but what the latter occupied her seat 
 in Leon's buggy. 
 
 But Miss Kate did not come ; Mrs. Martin's duties 
 as hostess kept her busy, and Wyndship soon showed 
 that he had no intention ol contesting Leon's claims. 
 The smallness of the crowd tended to make her position 
 more unpleasant, and also made the former's avoid- 
 ance more observable. Mollie noticed the latter, and 
 on the first opportunity, asked her friend if she had not 
 in some way offended him. 
 
 " No. Why do you ask?" 
 
 '' Because he has not been near you to-night, and 
 that is something unusual with him." 
 
 "Mr. Wyndship is a goose," was the impulsive re- 
 joinder — " No, I don't mean that," quickly correcting 
 herself, '' but I believe that he is so morbidly sensitive 
 as to imagine if he showed me any more attention than 
 he is compelled to, people would suspect him of — of try- 
 ing to feather his nest ; as Arthur Slaton would say. 
 That sounds very ridiculous, but I don't know of any 
 other reason he could have." 
 
 Mollie watched the look of annoyance on her friend's 
 face for a moment, and then said mischievously : 
 
 *' Maybe that is not the only reason." 
 
 " What other could he possibly have ? I am certain 
 that I have never intentionally mistreated him." 
 
 " Possibly he has fallen in love with you, and fears to 
 trust himself in your company." 
 
 " Nonsense ;" and Elma turned quickly away before 
 
122 YOUNG AMERICA TO THE RESCtJ'ii. 
 
 Mollie could tell exactly what had been the effect of 
 her experimental shot. The suggestion was not lost on 
 the former, however, and for the remainder of tlie eve- 
 ning she was unusually quiet. Had Wyndship been ever 
 so willing to pay her attention, he would have found her 
 much more coy than ever before. 
 
 No woman is ever entirely indifferent to the effect of 
 her charms on persons of the opposite sex. No matter 
 how impossible it may be for her to return the love that 
 she has won, or how far below her in the social scale the 
 admirer may be, that love and admiration, when respect- 
 fully exhibited, will awake a feeling of pleasure and 
 gratitude in her own heart. So it was with Elma. 
 Mollie's suggestion aroused her curiosity, and set her to 
 conjecturing whether this surmise was the true explana- 
 tion for the inconsistency she had noticed. These con- 
 jectures were soon settled in a very unexpected manner. 
 
 As before stated, Elma had determined in her own 
 mind not to return home with Leon, and as the time for 
 breaking up came, and no other excuse presented itself, 
 she accepted Mrs. Martin's invitation to remain all 
 night. Leon was greatly disappointed, and tried to 
 overrule her decision ; but failing in his efforts, he had 
 to postpone the declaration of love he intended making 
 during the ride home. He began to suspect that his 
 uniformly bad luck in seeking an opportunity for this 
 declaration was owing, in a great measure, to her ma- 
 noeuvres. Although still believing that this was only 
 caused by prudery, yet he had been too much accus- 
 tomed to having his own way to patiently submit. To 
 be foiled so repeatedly irritated him ; and besides, prob- 
 ably his pride was just a little touched by her apparent 
 want of appreciation of the honor he wished to confer. 
 Prompted by these conceits, he decided that night to 
 change his tactics, and see if a week or two of indiffer- 
 ence would not bring her to her senses ; little thinking 
 that this was just what she most desired. 
 
 During the forenoon, Johnnie Hall, a boy about fif- 
 teen years old — a nephew of Mrs. Martin, and one of 
 Wynd ship's pupils — was exploding some Christmas tor- 
 pedoes in his uncle's back-yard, assisted by the latter 
 and his teacher. Some remark brought up the subject 
 of firearms, and Wyndship undertook to describe a late 
 improvement in pistols. To make his explanation clear, 
 
he brought out a small pocket revolver of verj^ fine work- 
 manship, that a friend had given him before leaving 
 home. He was called away while Mr. Martin was in- 
 specting it, and when through with the examination, the 
 latter carried it in the house and laid it on the mantel 
 of the sitting-room, where it remained unnoticed during 
 the bustle of household preparation for the part3^ 
 
 After the party was over, and the guests had all de- 
 parted, except Elma, she and Johnnie vrere left for a 
 few minutes in the sitting-room by themselves. The 
 latter had an immense admiration for his fair compan- 
 ion, and also, like all boys, a great fondness for any- 
 thing in the shape of a gun. Noticing the pistol on the 
 mantel, where his uncle had left it, and supposing that 
 she felt some of the same interest in such things that he 
 did, he could think of no better means of entertaining 
 her, than by an exhibition of its merits. So, with the 
 carelessness of his age, he took it down and proceeded 
 to show her the beauty of its finish and mechanism just 
 as he saw his teacher do that morning. To please him, 
 Elma showed great interest, and drawing close together, 
 the two were busily engaged — he in manipulating and 
 explaining, while she watched and listened — when 
 Wyndship came in the door unobserved. Noticing their 
 occupation, and the boy's awkwardness in holding the 
 muzzle towards her, he called out suddenly : 
 
 " Take care, Johnnie." 
 
 Something, probably the unexpected warning, caused 
 the boy's thumb to slip from the hammer, and the pistol 
 went off. Elma gave a half-smothered scream, jumped 
 backward, stumbled over a foot-stoul, and fell. Believ- 
 ing that she iiad been killed, AVyndship sprang forward, 
 and throwing himself on the floor by her side, caught her 
 up in his arms. 
 
 "Oh! Elma, Elma! my love," he cried in heart- 
 broken accents, " Oh ! my God — dead — " 
 
 Unmindful of the presence of Johnnie, he hugged her 
 close to his breast, repeating loving epithets and broken 
 exclamations of horror, even after her efforts to disen- 
 gage herself from his clasp proved that she was quite a 
 lively corpse. 
 
 " I'm not dead — I'm not hurt — let me go, Mr. Wynd- 
 ship. Oh! Mrs. Martin, help me up," she appealed, as 
 that lady came running in. " Make him let me go — I'n 
 
124 YOUNG AMERICA TO THE RESCUE. 
 
 not hurt in the least." In the meantime, Johnnie was 
 too badly frightened to do anything but bounce up and 
 down, crying out : 
 
 *' I didn't go to do it ! Oh ! I didn't go to do it !" 
 
 " Hush, you foolish boy," she continued, " nobody is 
 killed — not even hurt." 
 
 '' Oh ! Miss Elma ! I didn't go to shoot. I'll never 
 touch another pistol as long as I live. Oh ! Mr. Wynd- 
 ship, forgive me this time, an' I'll never do it again." 
 
 Johnnie's fright and penitence were ludicrous indeed, 
 but it was all lost on Wyndship, who, trembling like an 
 aspen leaf, began to realize that it was not the dead 
 body of his sweetheart that he had been embracing so 
 closely. As this fact gained admittance into his be- 
 wildered mind, it brought also a remiiider of how com- 
 pletely he had betrayed himself ; and the pallor on his 
 face changed to a deep red, his eyes sank to the floor in 
 shame and confusion, and tui-ning abruptly on his heels, 
 he hurried from the room. 
 
 Out in the cool night air, he gradually regained con- 
 trol of his faculties sufficiently to comprehend^ all that 
 had occuiTed, and to realize the new position in which 
 he was placed. In a moment of excitement and horror, 
 he had betrayed the love he had intended to keep hid- 
 den, and he could follow the assumed role of indifferent 
 friendship no longer. Others, too, had witnessed his 
 folly, and there was no telling how soon it would be ^ on 
 the tongue of every scandal-monger in the community. 
 *' Well, what of that?" what little connnon-sense he had 
 left demanded. '' What sin was there in loving Elma 
 Owens ? AVhy should any man be ashamed of a fate 
 that was common to almost all who came under the in- 
 fluence of her charms ? Would these people think any 
 the less of him on account of this love ? When he had 
 proven his manhood by suppressing so hopeless a pas- 
 sion, would they not admire and respect him the more ? 
 Would they not commend the moral courage shown in 
 keeping on in his allotted course, unmindful of misfor- 
 tune and suffering?" Aye ; but could he do this? When 
 he thought of the future and the years of suppressed 
 love which this meant, his heart told him no. When he 
 thought of constant meetings with her ; of seeing others 
 worshipping at the shrine which was forbidden to him ; 
 of standing by while some more favored person — while 
 
BELLKVIEW. 125 
 
 Leon Gachet won the love for which he would willingly 
 sacrifice his hopes of heaven ; his heart rebelled and 
 cried out, impossible. How could he witness this and 
 live ? 
 
 Again common-sense interposed, by whispering into 
 his inner ear: "Why not sacrifice scruples, and en- 
 deavor to win the love so necessary to your happiness ? 
 Why not make an honorable, manly effort to win the 
 prize, which no other man will ever cherish so sacredly?" 
 Ah, but what had Slaton said about her marrying Leon, 
 and how could he hope for success ? Would she not mis- 
 construe his motives as being mercenary, like others? This 
 thought was enough. Such a course would only change 
 the friendly respect she had always shown him into con- 
 tempt, and anything was better than that. The only 
 choice left was flight. He must leave the neighbor- 
 hood, trusting that absence, newer scenes, and occupa- 
 tions would deaden that pain, which, he believed, no 
 remedy could ever cure. 
 
 After an hour's absence he returned to his room, 
 where he found Johnnie, who was to share his bed that 
 night, still awake. One of the conclusions he had come 
 to, was to bind the latter to secrecy concerning the af- 
 fair, tnisting that feelings of delicacy would keep Elma 
 and Mrs. Martin silent. Notwithstanding his great 
 fright, Johnnie had wits enough about him to take in 
 the meaning of his teacher's conduct, and now watched 
 him curiously as he entered the room. 
 
 '' Johnnie, I am going to ask a favor of you." 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " I don't want you to speak of— of the accident that 
 happened to-night. Don't mention it — don't speak of 
 it at all, and — and if anyone asks you about it, just tell 
 them that — ^that the pistol went off accidentally, but 
 nobody was hurt, and nothing more. Will you do this ?" 
 "Yes, Mr. Wyndship, there is no danger of my ever 
 talking about it. I was too badly scared, and am too 
 much ashamed of my carelessness, ever to sav anvthino- 
 about it." ^ J o 
 
 " Well, if you will do so, I will make you a present 
 of that pistol.'* 
 
 " Oh, sir, I'll be certain not to mention it to anyone, 
 but I don't want you to give me the pistol." 
 
 " Yes, I will — I don't want it myself — I have no use 
 
126 ELMA SECtJHES AN ALLY. 
 
 for such a -w^eapon. I will leave it with your uncle to 
 take care of until j^ou get large enough to handle it more 
 carefully." 
 
 Johnnie winced at the last word, and cautiously ab- 
 stained from pursuing the subject any further. He had 
 already received one lecture from his aunt about the 
 affair, and, to use his own forcible expression to him- 
 self, " wer'n't a-huntin' around for another." 
 
 When Mr. Martin carried the pistol to Wyndship next 
 morning, advising him to put it away in some safer 
 place, before more serious mischief was done, the latter 
 told him he had given it to Johnnie. 
 
 *' Given it to Johnnie?" echoed the old man, in aston- 
 ishment. "Why — why, isn't it rather a singular and 
 dangerous present to give a boy of his age ? " 
 
 " Yes — I — I believe it is," assented Wyndship, with 
 embarrassment, " but I don't — I thought Johnnie might 
 appreciate it when he grows older, as a present — a keep- 
 sake, from one of his teachers. Of course 3^ou must 
 take care of it for him until he gets large enough to be 
 trusted with such a weapon in safety." 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 ELMA SECURES AN ALLY WYNDSHIP AN ADVISER. 
 
 The shock did not seem to have broken Elma's rest, 
 or much affected her nerves, as she appeared at the late 
 breakfast next morning looking as well and as bright as 
 usual ; in fact, she was in the highest of spirits, and 
 during the meal kept up a continual fire of fun and rep- 
 artee with Mr. Martin and Johnnie. None of this, how- 
 ever, was addressed to Wj^ndship, and as he was equally 
 as reticent towards her, nothing passed between them, 
 save the customary good-morning on meeting. He at 
 once attributed this to displeasure, on her part, with his 
 loving demonstrations on the evening before, and conse- 
 quently his burden of heart-ache was not in the least 
 diminished. The more fortunate Johnnie was completely 
 captivated, and lingered at the table with her and his 
 aunt after the two gentlemen had withdrawn. 
 
 " I believe you claim to have caught me ' Christmas 
 
BELLEVIEW. 127 
 
 gift,' Mr. Johnnie," said Elma, referring to a time-hon- 
 ored custom. " Well, what shall it be? A silk cravat, 
 embroidered with a true lover's knot, containing my 
 initials ?" 
 
 " Beggars musn't be choice, Miss Elma — just any- 
 thing you're mind to give me. I'll think more of it, 
 anyhow, than anything I ever had." 
 
 '' Indeed? How gallant you are. I expect, however, 
 judging from the propensity you exhibited last night for 
 shooting people, a pistol would be the most acceptable 
 present I could offer," she replied mischievously. 
 
 " Oh, now, Miss Elma, aint you never goin' to quit 
 throwin' that up to me ?" 
 
 " Honestly, now, wouldn't you rather have the pistol? 
 The next time you want to shoot me Mr. Wyndship 
 might not be handy." 
 
 "Ah, but Mr. Wyndship has given me his," retorted 
 the boy, somewhat regaining his assurance under her 
 good-natured railery. 
 
 ''Done what?" exclaimed his aunt, in astonishment. 
 '' You certainly did not accept it?" 
 
 " I didn't want to, but he would have me take it, and 
 told Uncle Allen to keep it for me until I got larger." 
 
 "Well, I never!" ejaculated Mrs. Martin, under 
 her breath, while a slight flush spread over Elma's 
 countenance. 
 
 " Seeing that you are already supplied with deadly 
 weapons," resumed the young lady, in her former man- 
 ner, but in not quite so complacent a tone, "then my 
 offering must be a cravat, as I believe that article holds 
 the next highest place in the young masculine mind. 
 Well, borrow your uncle's horse and buggy to take me 
 home this morning, and I will see what we can do after 
 we get there towards liquidating my debt." 
 
 " You are not going home this morning, Elma? I 
 thought you were sjoing to stay a day or tvro with 
 me." 
 
 " Oh — I can't — I must go home this morning. I ought 
 to have gone home last night, only I — " She did not 
 finish the sentence, but seemed to have become deeply 
 interested with the pattern of the table-cloth, whose in- 
 tricate figures she was tracing with her fork. Johnnie 
 had gone to see about the conversance, and the two were 
 left alone. Mrs. Martin watched her in silence for £i 
 
128 ELMA SECURES AN ALLY. 
 
 while, and then asked, half in earnest and half teas- 
 ingly : 
 
 " Elma, what was that Mr. Wyndship was saying to 
 you last night, when I came into the room — while he 
 had you in his arms, and was still thinking you had been 
 kUled?" 
 
 " Elma's face took on a strong resemblance to a 
 peony, still she managed to say, "Was he saying any- 
 thing?" with a fair assumption of innocence. 
 
 " I heard him repeat something two or three times.'* 
 
 " Why do you ask me, then? It was something very 
 foolish, I dare say." 
 
 " It was not foolish — to him, at least." 
 
 " I was too badly frightened to notice what he said," 
 the girl replied evasivel}^ 
 
 " I know better than that — you remember every word 
 he uttered." 
 
 "Oh! what a memory you must think I have," re- 
 torted Elma, trying hard to brush aside the serious part 
 of Mrs. Martin's questions. "It is growing late — I 
 must get ready to go home," she added, jumping 
 up from the table. 
 
 " You are in a very great hurry all at once — I believe 
 you want to get rid of my questions." 
 
 " You are getting entirely too fond of asking them, 
 my dear Madame. I am afraid your Yankee friend is 
 demoralizing you — learning you Northern habits. They 
 say every child up there is born with an interrogation 
 point in his mouth." With this parting shot she ran out 
 of the room, and did not give her hostess an opportunity 
 to renew her catechising, (if she so desired) while wait- 
 ing for Johnnie and the buggy. 
 
 " Now, Johnnie," she said, in the same tone she had 
 used with Mrs. Martin, when they came in sight of 
 Belleview, "what must I tell the grand jury, when they 
 question me about last night's affair ?" 
 
 " Now, Miss Elma." 
 
 "You know it is a crime to attempt murder, even if 
 you don't succeed." 
 
 " Ain't you never going to let up on me about that 
 — that piece of carelessness. Miss Elma?" 
 
 " Well, maybe I will, if you will promise not to try it 
 again ; but you will have to keep it very quiet yourself. 
 
BELLEVIEW. 129 
 
 and get your aunt and uncle not to tell it. If it gets 
 out, you know I can't help myself." 
 
 " There is no danger of my ever telling it — besides, I 
 promised Mr. AYyndship to keep it a secret." 
 
 '* Very well, then," she continued, after a pause, and 
 in a much quieter manner, " you keep it quiet, and I'll 
 promise not to tell on you." 
 
 She made him go into the house, and take a seat in 
 the empty parlor, while she went up to her room after a 
 needle and some scraps of silk and floss. Returning, 
 she seati'd herself by his side, and said : 
 
 " Now I am going to let you see me make your cra- 
 vat. You will prize it more highly when you know it is 
 the work of my own hands, won't you ?" 
 
 "Yes, ma'am." 
 
 " I thought so, and I want you to think a great deal 
 of this." 
 
 It was a pleasant and amusing sight to see this young 
 lady — the pet of fortune, and of her own set — as with 
 deft fingers, she fashioned and ornamented the neck-tie 
 for the boy at her side ; entertaining him all the time as 
 he had never been entertained before. An observer, 
 particularly had he been one of her admirers, would have 
 thought it an entirely too great waste of sweetness ; 
 but Elma thought different. In the first place, she knew 
 no one would appreciate that sweetness more than John- 
 nie ; and secondly, she wished, just then, to attach him 
 strongly to her interest. She objected as much as 
 Wyndship did to the accident of the pistol becoming 
 public, and, like him, she was not above a little bribery. 
 Her success was complete. When she had finished the 
 article, tied it with her own hands around his neck, and 
 complimented him on his appearance, no lady of the 
 days of chivalry ever had a more devoted knight. Her 
 slightest wish was as sacred in his eyes as the holy fire 
 to the Ghiber priest. 
 
 Elma's curiosity had been satisfied, but for the life 
 of her, she could not have told just then what was the 
 nature of the sensation that this knowledge produced. 
 The revelation had come so sudden and unexpected, that 
 she was at a loss how to receive it — could not decide in 
 her own heart, how she liked this passionate 
 love. One of her objects in getting Johnnie to drive her 
 home that morning, was to prevent giving Wyndship an 
 
130 ELMA SECURES AN ALLY. 
 
 opportunity of confirming his avowals. She was un- 
 prepared for this, did not know what answer to make, 
 and wanted time to think over the matter first. Conse- 
 quently, she now had two declarations to avoid — one be- 
 cause she did not wish to hear it at all, and the other be- 
 cause she did not know w^hether she wanted to hear it 
 or not. 
 
 Rather to her surprise, neither of the two seemed dis- 
 posed to give her any trouble during the week or two 
 that followed. Partly in carrying out the resolution he had 
 formed that night, to try different tactics in overcoming 
 her coldness, and partly to gratify his father, who wished 
 him to take an interest in public affau-s, Leon entered 
 the canvass then going on throughout the State, in fa- 
 vor of secession. The strong appeals for the Union, 
 made by Georgia's greatest statesman, Alex Stephens, 
 were having an effect, and the Secessionists felt the ne- 
 cessity of making extra exertions ; particularly the 
 Gachets, as the Colonel was the nominee of his party, to 
 represent the county in the convention that had been 
 called to decide the question. He insisted on Leon's 
 taking a hand in the fight : " You will never have a bet- 
 ter opportunity of entering public life," he said. ''We 
 are certain to win, and your taking a decided stand on 
 this question now, will bring you into notice, and give 
 you influence with the new government." Probably the 
 Colonel was also prompted by hints from his wife, that 
 Leon had better not be too precipitate in his wooing 
 — at any rate, much to Lima's relief, the latter dropped 
 his love-making for the time, and turned his attention 
 to courting the *' Goddess of public favor." 
 
 The holidays and the first week in January passed, 
 bringing no sign from Wyndship, no indication that he 
 intended sueing for a return of the love he had revealed 
 under the impulse of the moment. Elma did not under- 
 stand this, and began to wonder if those loving epithets 
 and heart-broken expressions could mean anything what- 
 ever. " Were they simply the unconscious utterances 
 of an excited and horrified mind ; or was he sacrificing 
 his heart on the altar of a false and idiotic pride ?" 
 
 Wyndship had made up his mind to leave Somerville, 
 acknowledging to himself that it was the only course 
 left for him to pursue ; still, he hesitated when it came 
 to jputting this resolution into effect. Somehow or other, 
 
BELLEVIEW. 131 
 
 when he was longing to be away — or thonght he was 
 (which amounted to the same thing) — something seemed 
 to bind him to the place — obstacles and excuses without 
 number, real and imaginary, would come in the way. 
 Besides, it was not necessary to be in a hurry, as a few 
 days' or weeks' delay would not matter ; consequently, 
 when Christmas week had passed, he resumed his school 
 as usual. His term was not out, and he felt that he 
 could give no valid excuse for breaking his contract as 
 long as his health held out. There was also another reason 
 to keep him at Somerville, for the present. His sister 
 wi'ote him in December that their mother's health had 
 been bad dui-ing the fall, but at that time it was improv- 
 ing some ; and that the doctors thought a change to a 
 milder climate would be beneficial. He replied at once for 
 her to come to Georgia, and he was now looking for an- 
 other letter, telling him when she would start. It was 
 clearly impossible for him to leave now, he thought, but 
 when his mother came, something might give the de- 
 sired excuse for changing his location. 
 
 He had a good excuse even then, had he known it, 
 or rather had he admitted its existence. Change of cli- 
 mate, close attention to his school duties, hard 
 study at night and too much worrying over 
 his heart troubles, were having their effect on 
 his own health. As Mr. Martin tersely expressed it, 
 '^ Too much work and no play, was getting away with 
 him." His friends (and he had made others besides his 
 host and hostess) had already noticed and commented 
 on the change in his appearance. One of them. Dr. 
 Hurst, whose profession made him a qualified judge, 
 prophesied that " unless he soon learned the Southern 
 habit of taking things easy — of shirking a little — it 
 won't be long before the trustees will be looking for a 
 new teacher." All of Mrs. Martin's attempts to entice 
 him away from his books at night were useless, and 
 when she playfully threatened to cut off his supply of 
 light, he answered that his lamp was not necessary so 
 long as he had pine to burn in his fire-place. Such close 
 application they regarded as unnecessary — their young 
 men got along and made successful lawyers without it, 
 and why shouldn't he ? 
 
 Despair has urged men on to self-destruction in other 
 ways than by legal suicide, and Wyndship had worked 
 
13^ ELMA SECURES AN ALLY. 
 
 himself into just such a mental and nervous condition, 
 as to be entirely indifferent about his own welfare. Study 
 was the method he adopted to find relief from painful 
 reflections, just as others in the same condition fly to 
 the wine-cup, and into reckless dissipation. Every now 
 and then some rumor, prophesy, or assertion about the 
 expected marriage between Leon Gachet and Elma, 
 would come to his ears, just as if fate delighted to prick 
 him in his tenderest spot. This, of course, aggravated 
 his mental disorder, and increased his disregard of hy- 
 gienic laws ; and, moreover, made him restless and im- 
 patient with the ties that bound him to Somen^ille. 
 
 He was in this frame of mind when he received an- 
 other letter from his sister, during the second week in 
 January, stating that his mother would not come South 
 until spring, as she was hardly strong enough to travel 
 alone. She also wi'ote that she was not doing quite so 
 weU as at the time of her last letter. This news did 
 away with one of his reasons for remaining, and as it 
 happened to stril^e him in one of his most dissatisfied 
 moods, it about decided him to apply to the trustees for 
 a release ; but before taking any steps in the matter, he 
 went to Mrs. Martin for advice. Why he should have 
 gone to her, rather than her husband, is a question that 
 we doubt if he could have given a lucid answer, if in- 
 deed, he ever considered their relative qualifications as 
 competent advisers. In stating his question, he was not 
 near as candid as he might have been, seeing that she 
 knew all the facts, and only gave the condition of his 
 health as his reason for wishing to make a change. 
 
 "I think, myself," she said, "that a change of the 
 right kind would benefit you — in fact, is necessary. I 
 told you some time back, that you were injui'ing your 
 health, but you wouldn't listen." 
 
 " Then you think that I have a valid excuse for wish- 
 ing to be released from my contract?" 
 
 '^ Yes — that is, if you can't recover your health with- 
 out giving up the scliool." 
 
 " I don't believe I can stand it much longer — I must 
 go away somewhere, and find a more active and excit- 
 ing occupation." He did not say it, but he thought that 
 '' it must be something exciting enough to keep Elma 
 Owens from benig so constantly in my thoughts." 
 
 " I think you might continue your school, and still 
 
BELLEVIEW. 133 
 
 make some changes that would be highly beneficial." 
 
 " What are they?" he asked, hesitatingly. 
 
 "Give up this ceaseless study — this constant poring 
 over those old law-books, and take more exercise. Seek 
 some amusement — go a-hunting, stir around with the 
 young folks — . Talk politics, if you can't find anything 
 else to do." 
 
 The soundness of this advice could not be disputed ; 
 still, in his heart, AVyndship knew that it did not go to 
 the root of his trouble ; consequently he remained si- 
 lent. 
 
 "My friend," she resumed, when it became evident 
 that he was not going to reply, " you haven't been can- 
 did with me — you haven't given the true reason for 
 wanting to leave us." 
 
 He winced a little, and his face turned red. 
 
 " Am I not right? Is there not another reason?" 
 
 "Yes," he answered, in a husky voice. 
 
 " I thought so. And that reason is connected with 
 Elma Owens?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Why should that drive you from Somerville?" 
 
 " Why? How can you ask that question? You saw 
 — you must have seen enough that night — that night of 
 the party — " 
 
 " What I saw and heard that night," she answered, 
 with a smile, although there was a world of sympathy 
 in her voice and eyes, " would lead me to a different 
 conclusion — that your desire would be to stay, not to 
 leave." 
 
 ' ' How can that be ? Hew can I stay when she will 
 be married so soon to another man ? It is too much — I 
 could not stand it — it would kill me. If I thought he 
 was worthy of her it might be different, but as it is — " 
 His self-control gave way, so he did not finish the sen- 
 tence. 
 
 "Who is the other man?" 
 
 " Why do you ask? You surely know." 
 
 " No, I do not ; but I suppose you refer to Leon 
 Gachet." 
 
 " He nodded his head in assent. 
 
 " WeU, if you never leave here until there is a pros- 
 pect of that maniago coming off, you are settled for 
 life. Elma and Leon will never marry." 
 
134 ELMA SECmES AN ALLY. 
 
 *' How do you know?" he asked, incredulously. 
 
 " I can hardl}^ say how I know it ; in fact, it is faith, 
 and not knowledge ; still, I was never more certain of a 
 fact in ni}" life. She will never marry a person that she 
 does not love, and I know she does not love Leon." 
 
 " But every one else thinks differently — says they will 
 marry, and that they are now engaged." 
 
 " Who is everyone else?" 
 
 Wyndship hesitated : he could think of only one person 
 who asserted it as a fact. 
 
 " Who told you they were going to marry?" 
 
 " Well, Arthur Slaton." 
 
 ' ' Indeed ? And he told you the exact day, didn't he ?" 
 she demanded, sarcastically. 
 
 " In the spring, he said." 
 
 " Is that all the information he gave you concerning 
 it? Didn't he tell you where they were to be married, 
 who was to perform the ceremony — how she was to be 
 dressed, what her bridesmaids were to wear? and so 
 forth and so on, through the whole affair? I am sure he 
 was as well able to tell you all, as part." Mrs. 
 Martin was growing extremely warm. '^ And you, 
 knowing his reputation for telling the truth, drank it all 
 in^eh? It is a pity he didn't tell you that the moon 
 was made of green cheese ; maybe j^ou would believe 
 that, also. An^^thing that Arthur Slaton tells is gospel 
 truth, eh? Well, it is a good thing that you believe 
 him, nobody else does." 
 
 Something like a ghost of a smile flitted across Wynd- 
 sliip's face, for this lecture, unlike lectures in general, 
 was not liaving a very depressing effect on the recipient. 
 He well knew Mrs. Martin's opinion of Slaton, and 
 thought, " She lets her prejudices against him discredit 
 everything he says, no matter how plausible it may be." 
 So the smile vanished, and with the persistence of de- 
 spondenc}', he returned to his doubts. 
 
 " His tale does not seem improbable to me — at least," 
 he added, correcting himself as he remembered how im- 
 probable part of it had appeared, even to his jaundiced 
 mind, '' at least, as far as the engagement is con- 
 cerned. They are both rich, belong to the same class 
 of society, and no doubt, in a worldly point of view, the 
 match would be considered a very suitable one." 
 
 " Belono^ to the same class? Goodness knows ! Does 
 
BELLEVIEW. 135 
 
 that necessiiate their marrying ? Are there not tlious- 
 ands around them belonging to the same class ?" 
 
 '' I remember your telling me once, yourself, that the 
 family desired the match." 
 
 "Well, what if they do? His family desires it, and 
 so does he, I admit, but I am also certain that she does 
 not ; and she is not the kind of a girl to be overruled in 
 so serious a matter, against her own inclinations, by his 
 or his family's wishes." 
 
 " Well, I don't know that it matters, after all," he 
 said, doggedly. " It does not lessen my folly in the 
 least." 
 
 " You consider it folly, then, to fall in love with such 
 a girl?" 
 
 " It is one that no man need be ashamed of," he an- 
 swered, with reddening face, entirely oblivious of his, 
 own inconsistency, " for how could au}^ one help it, who 
 knew her ? What could be more natural ?" 
 
 " If that is the case, then, and you love her as you 
 say you do, why don't you try to win her ?" 
 
 The color deepened on his face, and he could hardly 
 keep his seat under the point-blank question. 
 
 " That would be folly, indeed, when there is no pos- 
 sible chance of success." 
 
 "You have addressed her, then?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " How do you know, then, that there is no possibility 
 of success?" 
 
 " How could there be, when I have neither fame, for- 
 tune, nor position to offer?" 
 
 " You have love to offer, haven't you?" 
 
 " Yes ; but what right have I to think that she would 
 accept my poor love alone? She would treat my 
 presumption with scorn, and despise me as a fortune- 
 hunter." 
 
 " If that is the opinion you have of her character, 
 I think you must be mistaken in your own heart. You 
 are certainly not in love with one you think so meanly 
 
 "Mrs. Martin," he said, humbly, " I beg your par- 
 don, and — hers. I did not mean that she would marry 
 for these considerations, but that she vrould misconstrue 
 my motives." 
 
 I do not think she would." 
 
136 ELMA SECURES AN ALLY. 
 
 '' And theu vfhat reason have I to hope that she would 
 regard my suit with favor." 
 
 " My husband would tell you that there were two 
 things that it is impossible to foretell. One is, what 
 verdict a jury will render ; and the other, who a woman 
 vrill marr}^ !" 
 
 He arose excitedly, and took a turn or two across the 
 room. Coming back to the hearth, he asked, in a 
 trembling voice : " Do you mean to imply that I would 
 have hopes of success— that — that she would return my 
 love?" 
 
 "I mean to imply nothing of the kind. I have no 
 knowledge of Elma's feelings towards you ; and even if 
 I did, would certainly not betray them to you. It is 
 your business to find that out for yourself." 
 
 His feathers fell in an instant. 
 
 '' And receive for an answer," he said, bitterly, "that 
 she was not seeking an alliance with a ' Yankee school- 
 teacher. " 
 
 " Mr. AYyndship, I am ashamed of j'ou," was the in- 
 dignant reply. " Have you gone crazj^? — has hard study 
 turned your brain? You are a perfect monomaniac on the 
 subject of social distinctions. Haven't joii been with 
 us long enough yet to get rid of all those foolish preju- 
 dices ? Have you forgotten that this is a free country, 
 where such considerations do not, or should not, have 
 any weight? I belong to the same class that Ehna 
 Owens does — my family is as respectable, if not quite so 
 rich — and I — " here the speaker straightened up with as 
 much dignity as she could possibly assume — " and I 
 married a Northern gentleman as poor as yourself ; still, 
 I have never thought, have never been told, have never 
 had cause to believe that anybody else thought, I mar- 
 ried beneath my station. Now, what are you going to 
 do ? Are you going to wait for Elma to come and tell 
 you beforehand that your love will be accepted ? If you 
 do, you will wait a long time ; Southern girls do not do 
 that way ; neither do I believe they do at the North." 
 
 '' I am going to do whatever you advise. I have the 
 utmost confidence in your judgment and sympathy, and 
 will pursue whatever course you think I should, regard- 
 less of consequences." 
 
 *'Even run the risk of being called a fortune- 
 hunter?" 
 
BELLEVIEW. 137 
 
 *' Even that." 
 
 *' It is said that love blinds the eyes to faults, but 
 yoiu's seem to make you blind to virtues." 
 
 " You are severe ; but I deserve it, I suppose. If I 
 am craz}^, it is because of a love that I can neither con- 
 trol nor subdue. If I am imreasonable and inconsistent, 
 it is because that I would not, for the world, lose the 
 good opinion of the woman I love. My ambition, even, 
 has changed. The plaudits of the world are valueless, 
 now, unless they are accompanied by hers. Suc- 
 cess that she cannot share and enjoy, will be as bitter as 
 the Dead Sea fruit. Now, what must I do?" 
 
 Mrs. Martin's face kindled, and her eyes sparkled 
 through the moisture of sj^mpathy. 
 
 " Go and tell her that," she said, " and my word for 
 it, that whatever her answer may be, she will still enter- 
 tain for you the kindest of feelings. I know of no 
 reason wh}^ she should not return j^our love ; but, even 
 if she does not, you may rest assured that you will not 
 thereby lose her friendship and respect. Such a dec- 
 laration is the highest compliment you could possibly 
 pay her, and I am satisfied that she will so regard it." 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 WTNDSHIP UNDERTAKES TO FOLLOW ADVICE. 
 
 When the advice we receive runs in accordance with 
 our personal inclinations, we are not apt to let it pass 
 unheeded. So it was with Wyndship. Before the in- 
 terview with Mrs. Blartin, recorded in the last chapter, 
 such an idea as following the course she had advised, if 
 it had crossed his mind, would have been dismissed as 
 an act of insane folly ; but now its aspect was in a 
 great manner changed. He had promised her that he 
 would follow whatever counsel she gave, and respect for 
 his word, if nothing else, required compliance. The res- 
 olution to do a thing is often half the battle, and if there 
 is a coveted prize to reward success, our spirits will rise 
 in due proportion. Xow he did not throw off his de- 
 spairing mood entirely, and go to the other extreme ; on 
 the contrary, the demon of doubt lacked a good deal of 
 
138 WYNDSHIP UNDERTAKES TO FOLLOW ADVICE. 
 
 being fully exorcised ; still, the soft, low voice of hope 
 began to utter encouraging whispers and brighter spir- 
 its, who prophesied of happiness untold, struggled 
 bravely with the old tyrant for the possession of his 
 soul. 
 
 "Wanting in courage, and anxious to get rid of the 
 agony of suspense, he at first spoiled a dozen sheets of 
 paper in attempting to write what he longed to say. 
 But nothing he could write was satisfactory ; so, after a 
 wanton waste of stationery, he threw down his pen, re- 
 solving to wait until an opportunity came, and then to 
 *' verbally tell his tale." 
 
 The first Saturday afterwards was bright and beauti- 
 ful, just such a day as even January sometimes bestows 
 on southern climes, as if nature desired to encourage 
 and facilitate his enterprise of love ; but, notwithstand- 
 ing its approving smiles, when morning came, his cour- 
 age began to evaporate. The day before, he had re- 
 solved to go to Belleview in the forenoon — now he 
 thought the afternoon would do better ; and, no doubt, 
 when that time came, he would find some argument in fa- 
 vor of putting off the visit until after supper. Mrs. Mar- 
 tin, who was not altogether ignorant of the struggle go- 
 ing on between desire and cowardice, began to wonder 
 if she would not yet have to invent some excuse to 
 bring the two together. However, relief came in an- 
 other way. After dinner he was assisting her in trim- 
 ming some shrubbery in the front yard, when Charley 
 Hurst drove up to the gate. In reply to Mrs. Martin's 
 invitation to get out, the latter stated that he did not 
 have time — that he was going out to Belleview to carry 
 a message from Colonel Gachet, whom he had seen that 
 morning in Milton. 
 
 " Come, go with me, Wyndship," he added. '' The 
 Colonel has gone to Milledgeville on political business, 
 and Leon is in Macon, assisting in the organization of a 
 company of volunteers, to become State guards, should 
 secession carry, so you see the ladies must be lone- 
 some." 
 
 Wyndship glanced at Mrs. Martin, and began to snip 
 recklessly with the shears at the nearest rose-bush. 
 
 " Hold up, young man, that rose doesn't need trim- 
 ming. Are you waiting for me to furnish you with an 
 excuse like Charley's?" she continued, relieving him of 
 
BELLEVIEW. 139 
 
 the pmniug shears. "AVell, go and change your coat, 
 and I will try to think up some message." 
 
 '' I didn't know he went often enough to require an 
 excuse," said Charley, laughing, as AVyndship turned 
 towards the house. 
 
 " How comes it, sir, that j^ou had to find an excuse 
 for going to Belleview ? " interrogated the lady. 
 
 '' Because this is not my regular day." 
 
 '' So they have ruled you down to certain days, have 
 they?" 
 
 '' I'm afraid to venture too often, you see, unless I 
 can bring my extra visits in under a plea of duty or ne- 
 cessity." 
 
 *' And you find it a very pleasant duty, no doubt?" 
 
 ''Ah, Mrs. Martin," he answered, dropping his jest- 
 ing tone, "if all of life's duties were as pleasant, we 
 would want no better heaven." 
 
 If the righteous experience as much embarrassment 
 on their first introduction into heaven as Wyndship felt 
 when he again stood face to face with Elma in the par- 
 lor at Belleview, then an entrance into that celestial 
 abode is not a moment of such unalloyed pleasure as we 
 are taught to believe. His trepidation was further 
 increased by the fact that she greeted him with more re- 
 serve than she had ever shown him before ; and augur- 
 ing the v/orst from this, his heart at once turned sick, as 
 he thought of the rejection which, his fears told him, 
 would be his reward. His tongue became too thick for 
 use, and he vaguely wondered if the beating of his 
 heart was not audible to all in the room ; and also how 
 he would ever be able to speak the sentences he had com- 
 mitted to memory. 
 
 Evidently, four persons in one room was too large a 
 crowd for Charley, and it was not long before he pro- 
 posed a boat-ride on the pond. 
 
 "It is too fine a day," he said, " to be moping in- 
 doors. When ' Old Father Probs' send us such weather 
 as this in January, he means for us to make use of it ; 
 in fact, not to do so, would be sinful extravagance." 
 
 No one could dispute the wisdom of this proposition, 
 consequently the four were soon traversing the path 
 
140 WYNDSHIP UNDERTAKES TO FOLLOW ADVICE. 
 
 that led clown to the boat-house ; Wyndship and Ehiia 
 leading, being placed in front by Charley's manoeuvres. 
 AiTiving at the landing, the former assisted his compan- 
 ion to a seat in the boat, and then stood waiting for- the 
 other two, who had walked much slower, to come up. 
 
 "You can paddle the boat alone, W^^ndship, I reckon 
 — if not, make Miss Elma help you. Miss Mollie and 
 I are going to walk around by the dam. Maybe we will 
 find some early violets." 
 
 ' ' Who ever heard of violets in the woods this time of 
 the year?" asked Elma, mockingly, while MoUie's face 
 looked painfull}^ conscious. 
 
 " We'll meet you at the grove," replied Charley, ig- 
 noring her question. The kind of violets he hoped to 
 find, grow and blossom at all seasons of the jesiw 
 
 Wyndship took his seat and nervously pushed off 
 from the shore. Out in the middle of the little sheet of 
 water, he desisted from his paddling, and allowed the 
 boat to drift as it pleased. Not a word was spoken 
 between the two in the meantime — Elma, with a half 
 averted face, sat watching the couple sauntering among 
 the willov\'s on the bank. The 3^oung man felt that the 
 supreme moment of his life had come, that now, if ever, 
 he must follow Mrs. Martin's advice ; but his tongue 
 failed him, refusing to speak even commonplace words 
 at his bidding. There was a big lump in his throat, and 
 his hand shook so as to cause the paddle he was hold- 
 ing to beat a half-audible tattoo on the side of the boat. 
 Within reach sat the girl he had come to address, and 
 not a soul was in hearing ; still the chosen words had 
 slipped away beyond recall. 
 
 Perceiving that beginning the conversation — if there 
 was to be an}^ — developed upon herself, Elma, with prob- 
 ably more awkwardness than she had ever before felt in 
 her life, remarked : 
 
 " AYhat are you thinking about, Mr. Wyndship? You 
 are unusually distrait this evening." 
 
 *' About — about — Avhat beautiful weather we are hav- 
 ing for this season of the year," he stammered out, des- 
 perately, and as the absurdity of his reply dawned on 
 his perturbed faculties, he fairly shivered with shame. 
 
 She could not suppress a smile at the answer ; still she 
 pitied his misery. 
 
 " Yes, we are a favored peojple in a favored land," 
 
BELLE VIEW. 141 
 
 she answered, in a light tone. '' Mother Nature lav- 
 isiies on us lier rarest gifts, and," she added, after a 
 moment's pause, " you see how much you have gained 
 by becoming a Georgian." 
 
 He could not trust himself to make another blunder- 
 ing reply, so said nothing. 
 
 " I think drifting in a boat on an evening like this the 
 most delightful of all employments, if it can be called 
 one. Don't you?" 
 
 ''Yes." 
 
 The monosyllable was some encouragement, so she 
 continued : 
 
 "It is an occupation for which we lazy Southern people 
 are peculiarly adapted. ^Ve thoroughly appreciate the 
 philosophy of ' Dolce far niente,' but I doubt if you 
 are able to enjoy it so much." 
 
 ''Why not?" 
 
 " Because you are not indolent. The Southern peo- 
 ple study and dream — the Northern people think and 
 act. Now, in time, you will learn to dream like us ; but 
 now, I dare say, you are wishing yourself away at some 
 more practical and useful employment." 
 
 " Oh, no ! I am not wishing myself away." 
 
 Again she smiled, for she felt assured that a few 
 minutes before, he had been wishing it quite strongly. 
 
 " Be candid, now, and acknowledge that you had 
 rather be with your books." 
 
 "I assure you, I had rather not." 
 
 " Then your education and acclimation is progressing 
 finely, and you will soon be as indolent as a native-born 
 Southerner." 
 
 ' ' Are all Southerners lazy ? " 
 
 " That is what you Northerners think ! " 
 
 He was getting further and further away from the 
 purpose of his visit. " Why does she harp so continu- 
 ally," he thought, " on the fact that I am a Yankee, and 
 she a daughter of the South, if it is not for the purpose 
 of warning me off? More than this, she has even chal- 
 lenged me to a sectional discussion." This challenge, 
 however, he did not accept. 
 
 " This is a race between the tortoise and the snail," 
 she resumed, after a few minutes' silence, pointing to 
 the couple on the bank, still within a hundred yards of 
 the landing. " It might be interesting to a looker-on 
 
142 WYNDSHIP UNDERTAKES TO FOLLOW ADVICE. 
 
 to ascertain which, they, or ourselves, will first arrive at 
 the rendezvous." 
 
 For a reply, IVyndship caught up the paddle to accel- 
 erate their own progress. 
 
 " Oh, there is no use in hurrying. We would have to 
 wait at the grove, or return alone. Speed on our part 
 would not stimulate them." 
 
 He laid down the paddle obediently, and the silent 
 drifting was renewed. 
 
 *'I am sorry," she said, again beginning the conver- 
 sation, " for the sufferings you are having to undergo 
 on account of enforced idleness, and wish that I could 
 alleviate them in some way." 
 
 " Do you, really?" he asked, quickly, almost starting 
 from his seat, at the impulse to tell her how she could 
 most effectually relieve his suffering. 
 
 She noticed the start, and the change in his manner, 
 and tbrowiug all the indifference she could assume into 
 her tone, she answered, carelessly, "Of course. I " 
 
 " Sing something, then," he almost ordered, shrinking 
 back into his seat again. 
 
 She looked at him, hardly knowing whether to be an- 
 gry or not. The surprise in her face recalled him to his 
 senses, but he had been suffering too much to care just 
 then for results. 
 
 " You see I am accustomed to giving commands. Miss 
 Owens, and always exact obedience." The bravery was 
 more assumed than real, for one flash from those eyes 
 would have carried rout and a panic through all his 
 forces. But she decided not to get angry, and the flash 
 did not come. 
 
 " I am not used to singing without some accompani- 
 ment. 
 
 " That is nothing. Your voice does not need one." 
 
 "What shall I sing?" 
 
 " Just anything." 
 
 She hesitated a moment, and then commenced that 
 sweetest of all love songs : 
 
 " Oh, fly to the desert, fly with me, 
 Our Arab tents are rude for thee : 
 Yet Where's the heart, the choice could doubt, 
 Of tents with love, or throues without." 
 
 The 'wOrds au.l music acted like some magic stimulant, 
 
BELLE VIEW. 143 
 
 reviving his hopes and courage, and bringing the con- 
 viction, that with her to love would be above every 
 other consideration. A wave of passion swelled up 
 with irresistible force, washed aside the barriers of fear 
 and doubt ; and scarcely had she finished the last line — 
 scarcely had the last soft echo died from off the water, 
 when he, too, commenced pouring forth Zi^s " tale of 
 love." There was no want of words now ; and, al- 
 though they were not the ones he had memorized ; and 
 the sentences were broken, irregular, and sometimes un- 
 grammatical, still they were eloquent with truth and 
 earnestness. He told of his fruitless strife to overcome 
 this love ; how he regretted her wealth, almost praying 
 that she might become as poor as himself, so that he 
 could prove that she alone was the object of his passion. 
 That he knew he was not worthy of the boon he 
 craved, but if she would give him just one word of 
 hope, lie would labor as no Jacob ever did to make a 
 name she would not be ashamed to bear ; and no matter 
 how long his term of probation might be, he would strive 
 contentedly, if, in the end, it won her love and approba- 
 tion. 
 
 Her head drooped before the storm of words as if to 
 hide the tell-tale blushes which covered her face and 
 neck. One hand rested on the boat-rail temptingly near 
 him, but he did not dare to touch it yet. When his elo- 
 quence was exhausted, and she did not look up, or re- 
 ply, a chill of fear and despair pierced his heart ; for 
 what, he thought, could the silence and averted face 
 mean, but displeasure? In a voice even more broken 
 than before, he begged for just one word to relieve his 
 suspense, even if that word did confirm the sentence he 
 dreaded. 
 
 This appeal — the hopelessness of his words and tone 
 — was more than she could resist. The blushing face 
 was raised, and the eyes, shining through a dewy mist, 
 met his bravely, and without flinching. He read there 
 neither anger, sorrow, nor reproach, but instead, some- 
 thing which caused him to utter an exclamation — no, a 
 gasp^ of joyful surprise. He caught the hand he had 
 been longing to take, and, as well as he could, com- 
 menced trying to express his bliss and gratitude. 
 
 ''Boat ahoy!" 
 
 The harsh notes came like a thunder-clap on a cloud- 
 
144 "JANUARY AS BRIGHT AS A 
 
 less day, and shattered their beautiful idyl into a thou- 
 sand pieces. She quickly reclaimed, and he as quickly 
 surrendered the appropriated hand, just as the voice re- 
 peated the hail. 
 
 ''Boat ahoy! " 
 
 Looking up, Wyndshipsaw Arthur Slaton standing on 
 the bank, with his hands doubled about his mouth, in 
 imitation of a speaking trumpet. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 " JANUARY AS BRIGHT AS A SUMMER's DAY." 
 
 "Have you room for another passenger?" Slaton 
 called out. "But — maybe I am intruding," he added, 
 after a moment's hesitation, with meaning emphasis. 
 " If so, I can wait until you get j^our ride out." There 
 was more irony in the last sentence than he intended, 
 for their boat had been as near still as it was possible 
 for a boat to be on water ever since he came in sight. 
 
 " Let's go ashore," whispered Elma, in answer to 
 Wyndship's look of inquiry. 
 
 In order to give her time to recover her composure, 
 the latter rowed very slowly to the landing, but when 
 there, quickly jumped out, that he might anticipate any 
 service Slaton might offer his companion. He wanted 
 to hide and protect her sweet discomposure from the 
 other's prying eyes ; but, as for himself, he felt too 
 proud and happy just then, to care for the impudent 
 scoundrel's sneers. 
 
 "I am sorry that I interrupted your pleasant boating," 
 Slaton remarked, with a hypocritical pretence of regret. 
 " Had I thought a moment, I would not have called." 
 All the time his cunning eyes were closely scanning their 
 countenances for what they could discover. "But where 
 is Miss Mollie and Hurst? Mrs. Gachet said they were 
 down here, too." 
 
 "There they are," answered Wyndship, carelessly, 
 pointing to the couple, still on the same spot where Elma 
 had pointed them out from the boat. 
 
 " They didn't go out on the pond with you?" 
 
BELLETIEW. 145 
 
 " No, they preferred walking round by the dam, and 
 were to meet us at the grove." 
 
 " It seems that neither of you got there," he sug- 
 gested, insinuatingly, his uncertain eyes peering into 
 first one and then the other face. 
 
 AYyndship's new-found joy had brought with it a stock 
 of assurance ; besides, in his proud happiness, he felt 
 like he could treat his enemy's prying questions with 
 good-natured contempt, so he answered with a smile : 
 
 " No. It was too fine an evening for exertion. I 
 was too lazy to row, and I suppose they were too lazy 
 to walk." 
 
 "In the meantime, Charley and Mollie had left their 
 seat at the root of a tree, and were approaching. 
 They bore no violets in their hands, but the exultant 
 light in his eyes, and the shame-faced happiness in hers, 
 proved that their search had not been unrewarded. 
 
 Elma, accompanied by Wyndship on one side, and 
 Slaton on the other, turned up the path towards the 
 house. During the return trip, the latter had most of 
 the conversation to himself. AVyndship felt too much 
 like a man intoxicated with etherealized wine, to listen 
 to his uninteresting remarks. 
 
 On the porch he hesitated. He ardently wished 
 to be alone with Elma, if only for a few minutes, that 
 he might tell her in more coherent language how happy 
 she had made him, and how enduring would be his love 
 and gratitude ; but Slaton showed no indications of 
 leaving, and his presence would kill all the pleasure. 
 Just then he could not endure the thought of sharing 
 her company during the evening, with one whom he so 
 thoroughly disliked. 
 
 "Are you going back with, me, AVyndship?" asked 
 Charley, when he and IMollie came up. " I don't like 
 to hurry you," he continued, " but I promised my mother 
 to be back before dark, and carry her out to sit up with 
 Mrs. Ballou's sick child ; and I want to see you on some 
 business before I go back to Milton." 
 
 This decided Wyndship, so, with an inward resolu- 
 tion to see Elma next day, he signified his readiness to 
 go. Bidding his sweetheart only a polite good-evening 
 was not at all to his taste, and he tried to make his eyes 
 express, in part, what the presence of others forbade 
 his saying in words. 
 
146 " JANUARY AS BRIGHT AS A SUMMEr's DAY.** 
 
 There was not much conversation between the two 
 young men on the way back, but as they drove up to Mr. 
 Martin's gate, Charley started, as if suddenly awaking 
 from a day-dream, and said : 
 
 " I declare, we've both been as dumb as owls. What 
 have you been thinking about?" 
 
 *' I might ask the same question of you," answered 
 Wyndship, with some confusion. 
 
 " I was thinking about something very pleasant, I as- 
 sure you. But I came very near forgetting the business 
 I wanted to talk with you about. Well, it is this : Mr. 
 Harris thinks we ought to have a partner in Milledge- 
 ville. His old partner there is retiring from practice, 
 and declines to take an interest in any new cases. He 
 went up there just before Christmas, but could make no 
 satisfactory arrangement with a resident lawyer, and 
 the other day, when we were talking about the matter, I 
 mentioned you. He caught the suggestion at once, said 
 you was the very man, and requested me to speak to 
 you about it. How do you think it will suit you ? " 
 
 "Suit me!" exclaimed Wyndship, in surprise. 
 " Nothing would suit me better, but — but there is my 
 school — my terra will not be out for several months 
 yet." 
 
 "How long?" 
 
 " Some time in June, I think." 
 
 " I spoke of that, and he said it should not be an ob- 
 stacle. If you will say that you will accept our offer, 
 we will wait until then." 
 
 " I am afraid that this is your work, and that 
 through friendship for me, you are sacrificing your own 
 interest?" 
 
 " By no means. Harris is just as eager for the ar- 
 rangement as I am. 1 did not know that you and he 
 were so well acquainted before — at any rate, he ex- 
 pressed a high opinion of your legal attainments, and 
 also of your personal character. Shall we call it a 
 trade?" 
 
 " Of course, I cannot refuse such an offer as you have 
 made me. I accept with pleasure." 
 
 " All right ; we will consider that much settled ; the 
 details we can arrange some other time. Let me see, 
 Mr. Harris will be in Milton next Saturday. Can't you 
 meet him there, so that you two can talk the matter 
 
. ,^- .-=^ BELLEVIEW. 147 
 
 over? Very good, I will look for you. Good-night." 
 Charley drove away in the gathering twilight, softly 
 humming a love song, while Wyndship entered the 
 house almost dazed by so much happiness and good for- 
 tune falling to his lot in one evening. 
 
 * 'Humph, young man," said Mr. Martin, as they gathered 
 around the supper-table, *' where have you been to get 
 rid of all your solemncholy ? I don't know when I've 
 seen you in as good a humor before." 
 
 " I have just had a very advantageous offer — one that 
 I was little expecting." 
 
 ' ' Indeed ? What was it ? Some widow with ' darkies, 
 plantations, and farms,' asked you to be her husband?" 
 
 The color mounted into the young man's face. " No ; 
 I was not jesting. I have had a very desirable legal 
 partnership offered me." 
 
 " Well, wouldn't that be a legal partnership? But 
 who is your offer from?" 
 
 " From Charley Hurst and his partner, Mr. Harris. 
 They want me to locate in Milledgeville," and he pro- 
 ceeded to narrate what had passed between Charley and 
 himself a few minutes before. 
 
 " I am so glad," ejaculated Mrs. Martin, heartily. 
 
 " Yes, it gives me so much better an opening than I 
 expected, that I feel unusually elated. I think it must 
 be Charley's doings, as my acquaintance with Mr. Har- 
 ris is slight, having only met him twice." 
 
 " He has been making inquiries about you, though," 
 remarked Mr. Martin, quietly. 
 
 "How do you know? " 
 
 ' ' By personal experience — the last time I was in Ma- 
 con." 
 
 " Then it is you I must thank for the offer?" 
 
 " No ; I don't suppose that what I said had any in- 
 fluence with him in the matter — anyway, you had better 
 wait to see whether the offer does you any good, before 
 giving thanks." 
 
 "What do you mean?" asked Wyndship in surprise. 
 
 " My young friend," said Mr. Martin, very seriously, 
 *' have you counted all the cost?" 
 
 "What cost?" 
 
 " There is no doubt, now, but what Georgia will se- 
 cede from the Union. The other Southern States that 
 have not already done so, will soon follow, and will form 
 
a new republic. If you accept this offer, and locate 
 permanently here, you will have to go with us — must be- 
 come a citizen of this new government. Arc you pre- 
 pared to forswear your allegiance to the United 
 States?" 
 
 ^' Are you certain that — that this will be the result? " 
 
 " I feel assured that it will. I was talking with ])r. 
 Hurst to-day, and that was his opinion. He is not a 
 man to give up a case as long as there is a fighting 
 chance, and he told me that he no longer had any hopes. 
 He looks for stormy times in the near future." 
 
 Some of the joy died out of the young man's face. 
 The idea that his love and patriotism might come in 
 conflict, had never entered his mind, -so preoccupied had 
 he been with the former ; and, consequently, the alter- 
 native presented was something of a surprise. He 
 played absently with his fork during the silence that 
 followed, seemingly absorbed in thought. 
 
 *' I mention this," resumed Mr. Martin, atlength, *' be- 
 cause I thought 3^ou ought *to consider this point before 
 deciding to accept this offer." 
 
 " What are you going to do? You are as much a cit- 
 izen of the United States as myself." 
 
 " But I am first a citizen of Georgia, and must neces- 
 sarily abide by the action of the majority." 
 
 "And so am I. If she goes out of the Union, then 
 I must abide the result, just as you will." The cloud 
 vanished from his face, and the happiness, momentarily 
 under eclipse, returned. Between his love and patriot- 
 ism there could be no serious struggle — the first was too 
 all-powerful for the latter to cause more than a moment's 
 hesitation. 
 
 *' What did the Doctor say about Lizzie Ballou?" 
 asked Mrs. Martin, anxious to change the subject. 
 
 '' He regards her case as being about as hopeless as 
 the Union cause," replied her husband. 
 
 Wyndship lingered at the table after his host had left, 
 fidgeting uneasily in his chair, as if there was some- 
 thing he wanted to say, and didn't know how to com- 
 mence. 
 
 " Did you have a pleasant call?" 
 
 " It could not have been pleasanter," he exclaimed, 
 with reddening face, forgetting the disagreeable inter- 
 
BELLEVIEW. 1 49 
 
 rnptlon. This answer was enough ; no other question 
 was considered necessary by his confidante. 
 
 *' I am very glad," she answered, softly. " I hope 
 you will never have cause to regret following my ad- 
 vice." 
 
 *'0h! Mrs. Martin," he cried, impulsively, ''how 
 much I am indebted to you ! AVhat a shipwreck I 
 would have made of my happiness, had I not listened 
 to you? It is to your kind heart, and to your whole- 
 some advice, that I owe the greatest happiness- ever 
 vouchsafed to mortal man. I shall never be able to 
 pay you one-tenth of my debt of gratitude." 
 
 " To see you and Elma both happy, will -be pay 
 enough. There is only one thing that I fear, and that, 
 I think, will be removed in time." 
 
 '' What is that?" he asked, eagerly. 
 
 " That you do not fully appreciate her character — 
 that you haven't yet given her credit for all the good 
 qualities that she possesses. As I told you before, it 
 seems that love has made you blind to her virtues, and 
 not to her faults." 
 
 ' ' You will never have cause to throw that up to me 
 again. I believe her to be all that is pure, and good, 
 and lovable. An angel from Heaven could hardly be 
 more perfect in my eyes." 
 
 She smilingly shook her head at his extravagance, as 
 they arose from the table ; but, as events proved, her 
 fear was not altogether groundless. His faith was soon 
 to be tested, and some years afterwards he remembered 
 this warning with a very sore heart, if not with a prick- 
 ing conscience. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 "I WAS mistaken" — "falser than all fancy 
 
 FATHOMS." 
 
 What a change everything had undergone in Wynd- 
 ship's eyes? — and he marveled, that a few bright days 
 in January should produce such wonderful effect. The 
 sun shone brightly, the birds sang sweetly, the stars 
 twinkled so merrily at night ; even the piles of last years' 
 leaves, and the naked boughs overhead had lost their 
 
150 "I WAS MISTAKEN." 
 
 dreary look. Nature and nature's subjects were as gay 
 as if no cruel frost had smote them with its magic 
 wand. 
 
 Nor was the change confined to these alone — ^the peo- 
 ple looked happier, his pupils were more obedient, and 
 the duties of the school-room had become less onerous 
 than before. All the troubles and trials of life seemed 
 to have vanished, melting away like thin mist before a 
 morning's sun. But the change was in him — he had 
 donned a pair of golden-hued spectacles, and saw 
 everything through their yellow light. Had fate pre- 
 sented a pair smoked in the fires of adversity, what a 
 difference there would have been in his vision. 
 
 But he soon met with a slight disappointment, never- 
 theless. The very next day, at church, he learnt that 
 Elma would not be at home that afternoon, and conse- 
 quently, he had to give up his intended visit. This did 
 not matter much, however — his happiness being too 
 great to be affected by such a trifle. 
 
 On Thursday, at noon, he dismissed his school for 
 the day, that those of his pupils, who wished, might go 
 to the burial of their little playmate, Lizzie Ballon, 
 which he expected to attend also, with Mrs. Martin. 
 After dinner, and before the appointed hour, this lady 
 called him into the parlor, to inspect a bouquet of hot- 
 house flowers. She had stripped her collection that 
 morning, to adorn the coffin of the dead child, and had 
 reserved a few of the most attractive. 
 
 " I expect you would like to send that to some one of 
 our acquaintance ? " she said, after he had expressed his 
 admiration in suitable terms. 
 
 He tried to look surprised, but failed. 
 
 "Such a pretence as that won't do," she continued, 
 with a laugh. " I know that you are almost dying for 
 the privilege of making such an offering at the shrine 
 of your idol." 
 
 " I hate to deprive you of the last you have." 
 
 " Oh, that's nothing — I will soon have plenty more." 
 
 *' Well — if you can spare them." 
 
 " Certainly — only, sending flowers to Belieview is like 
 ' sending coals to Newcastle.' Still, she will prize them 
 as coming from you. Carlos is going down to the plan- 
 tation, and can stop and leave them as he passes by ; 
 
BELLE VIEW. 151 
 
 SO'go and write your note, as he will soon be ready to 
 start." 
 
 He quickly accepted, and before they left for the vil- 
 lage grave-yard, had the satisfaction of seeing Carlos 
 depart, carefully conveying this, his first offering to his 
 lady love. 
 
 As is usually the case with burials in the country, 
 there was some delay in the programme, so that the 
 short winter afternoon was nearly exhausted when they 
 walked back through the village, home. As they passed 
 the post-office, that official called to AVyndship, holding 
 up a letter, which he said had been brought out from 
 Milton by young Mr. Slaton, in advance of the regular 
 mail. As he recognized his sister's writing, and noticed the 
 word ' urgent* written in a corner of the envelope, Wynd- 
 ship felt a premonition of bad news, that caused him to 
 hesitate in the act of breaking the seal. He turned the let- 
 ter over in his hands, scanning both sides, as if he 
 could thereby obtain some inkling as to its contents ; 
 but the outsido could tell him nothing more than that 
 the address appeared to be written hurriedly, and the 
 flap of the envelope was rough and puckered, as if it 
 had been sealed, then opened before drying, and re- 
 sealed. 
 
 " Why don't you open and read your letter?" said 
 Mrs. Martin. " Don't mind me." 
 
 The enclosure proved to be very short, but before he 
 had read half a dozen lines, his worst forebodings were 
 realized ; and his face soon revealed to his companion 
 the character of the news it brought. His sister wrote 
 that their mother's health had rapidly grown worse in 
 the last few days, and that the attending physician ex- 
 pressed little hopes of a recovery. " She is very anxious 
 to see 3^ou again," she said, " ancl can talk about noth- 
 ing else. I know, my dear brother, that you will not 
 refuse her this satisfaction, on what is, in all probabil- 
 ity, her death-bed, but will come without delay. You 
 know that 3^ou have alwa^'s been her favorite child — her 
 pride and idol — an.l your presence now would be of 
 more benefit than all the medicine. I would have tele- 
 graphed, but I do not know how to reach you with a 
 message, ^nd the doctor thinks you can get here in time 
 by starting as soon as you receive this." At the bot- 
 tom of the 1 etter there was a hurried scrawl, for a post- 
 
1"? <<I WAS iVnSTAKF^.'* 
 
 script, saying: " Do not delay ; mother is not so well 
 since writing the above." 
 
 " I fear your letter contains bad news," said Mrs. 
 Martin, gently. 
 
 "Yes — yes, indeed," he answered, in a broken voice. 
 "Imust go home at once — to-morrow — to-niglit, if I 
 only could. My mother is sick — may be dying." 
 
 " Oh, I hope not so bad as that." 
 
 He did not answer, but handed her the letter to read. 
 While she was thus engaged, he giudually regained some 
 self-control, and arranged his ideas. He had no time to 
 indulge in grief, for he must get off very early in the 
 morning, in order to make connection with the ten 
 o'clock train at Milton. In the meantime, he must see 
 the trustees, and make some arrangement concerning 
 the school. Mr. Harley lived tlie nearer of the two, 
 and would probably be at home about dark. 
 
 " I am so sorry — far more than I can tell you," said 
 JMrs. Martin, showing her sympathy both in eyes and 
 voice. I wish I could share this trouble with you, for 
 it must be hard to bear ; and she so far away. But j^ou 
 must not give way to despair — we must hope for the 
 best." 
 
 " If I was only there — if I can only get there in time, 
 it would not be so hard," he said, her kindly sympathy 
 causing him to break down again. " But I have no 
 time for sorrowing, I must get ready to leave by day- 
 light, or before, in the morning." 
 
 " How can I help you ? Can't I do your packing?" 
 " We will attend to that after supper. I shall only 
 take a valise and a few necessary articles of clothing. 
 Everything else I will leave in j^our care. I must first 
 see Mr. Harley about .the school, and then secure some 
 conveyance to Milton." 
 
 '* Don't trouble about the latter— Mr. Martin will see 
 to that, as soon as he returns from the plantation." 
 " It might put him to some inconvenience." 
 *' You ought not to say that, when you know how 
 glad we will both be to render you any assistance in 
 your trouble." 
 
 " I know, and shall never forget your kindness, Mrs. 
 Martin. I never expect to have two other friends so 
 kind and considerate as you both have been. It would 
 
BELLEVIEW. 153 
 
 be a waste of words for me to try to express my grati- 
 tude." 
 
 Wyndship's surmise about finding Mr. Harley at 
 home, proved correct. He briefly explained to that 
 gentleman his trouble, and requested either a cancellation 
 of his engagement, or the privilege of an indefinite va- 
 cation. 
 
 *' Doubtless the former would suit you better," he 
 continued, " as I cannot say when I will be able to re- 
 turn. That will be just so soon as my mother recovers, 
 or_" he could not finish the sentence, could not bring 
 his tongue to utter the other condition. 
 
 '<• I think not — no one can blame you for leaving, 
 under the circumstances, and I think your patrons will 
 cheerfully consent to a vacation. I, for one, regret the 
 interruption very much, and hope you will find your 
 mother much improved." 
 
 '' I will not have time to see Major Dismuke or any 
 of the patrons, and so I can only leave the matter en- 
 tirely in your hands, and will agree to any arrangement 
 you think will suit all concerned. The vacation will 
 have to be indefinite, but I can tell more about that 
 when I get home, and will write." 
 
 '' Might I ask, Mr. AVyndship, if the result of the 
 convention at Milledgeville will have any effect on your 
 course?" 
 
 *' None in the least." 
 
 '' The reason why I asked the question is because I 
 have just heard that the ordinance of secession had 
 passed that body." 
 
 '' 1 was prepared for that result, and, while I regret 
 it, have no intention of altering my plans on that ac- 
 count. I shall settle permanently in Georgia." 
 
 '' Very good ; write me Avhen you get home, and for 
 the present, I will assume the responsibility of consent- 
 ing to a vacation — until we can see further." 
 
 After a little more talk on business matters, Wynd- 
 ship returned home, to find supper Y>\aiting. Mr. Mar- 
 tin had come in from his plantation, and at once in- 
 formed him that Carlos would have the buggy ready to 
 take him to Milton next morning, in time to catch the 
 train. He had little appetite for supper, but seated at 
 the table, where he had spent so many pleasant half hours, 
 his depression began to give way before the efforts of his 
 
154 
 
 two old friends to encourage bis hopes for the best. 
 Feeling fully assured of their interest and cordial sym- 
 pathy, it was a relief to talk to them about his mother ; 
 recounting little incidents of the past, with which she 
 was connected — of her devoted love for him ; of her 
 endless care for his comfort ; and of the thousand sac- 
 rifices she had made, that his course through college 
 might not be interrupted. All this was a pleasure, al- 
 though a mournful one, and did much to revive his spir- 
 its, and to kindle a hope, that after all, his sister's fears 
 might have been exaggerated. If this hope w^ould only 
 prove true, and his mother be spared to him for some 
 years longer, then his cup of joy would be filled to the 
 brim. Just so soon as she was able to travel, he would 
 bring her back to Georgia, where the soft and genial cli- 
 mate would complete the task of restoring her health, 
 and she would live to be his best and safest counsellor 
 through the years of his struggle for advancement. 
 Surely, Providence would not be so cruel as to deprive 
 him of her society and advice just at this time, when 
 he began to feel the need of it most acutely. 
 
 ' ' Do you intend calling on any of your friends to- 
 night, to say good-bye ? " asked Mrs. Martin, at the 
 close of the meal. 
 
 " I would lilie to " 
 
 " Well, tell me what you want to take with you, and 
 I will pack your valise, so that you will have nothing 
 to do but to go to bed, when you return. You must 
 get a good night's sleep, for your trip will be a long and 
 wearying one." 
 
 " There is never an end to your kindness," he an- 
 swered, gratefully. *' Just fill it with what you think I 
 will mostly need." 
 
 Rising, he went across the hall to his room, to make 
 some alteration in his dress, while Mrs. Martin followed 
 her husband to the sitting-room, to wait until he should 
 finish. Ten — fifteen minutes — a half an hour passed, and 
 still she did not hear his step in the hall. Thinking 
 probably she had missed it, she inquired of Mr. Martin 
 if he had heard him go out. 
 
 " No ; he is still in his room." 
 
 She waited another ten minutes, and then went to his 
 door and tapped. Recei\dng no reply, and hearing no 
 movement inside, she opened the door and went in. 
 
BellevieW. 155 
 
 '* Why, I thought you were gone — " she stopped, 
 startled by Wyndship's attitude and expression. His 
 head was bowed on his folded arms, resting on the table, 
 but at the sound of her voice, he raised it, and turned 
 towards her. His face was white and rigid, and his eyes 
 wild and unnatural. "What is the matter — are you 
 sick ? she continued, jumping at the conclusion that he 
 had been attacked with some sudden illness. "What 
 can I do for you?" 
 
 "Nothing — I'm not sick." 
 
 "What's the matter? What makes you look so 
 white?" 
 
 He arose from his chair, crumpling up a piece of pa- 
 per in the palm of one hand. 
 
 "Nothing — only learning a lesson — acquiring a little 
 wisdom, which I ought to have possessed sooner." His 
 voice, also, had changed like his face and eyes, sound- 
 ing hard and strained. 
 
 In troubled surprise, she looked from him to the ta- 
 ble, on which lay an open envelope, and a bundle, done 
 up loosely in paper. 
 
 "That is my lesson," he added, bitterly, pointing to 
 the bundle. 
 
 She stepped forward to the table, and saw that the 
 bundle contained flowers, which she instantly recognized 
 as being the bouquet he had sent toElma that afternoon. 
 They were still done up in the same paper that she had 
 pinned around them for protection. In the meantime, he 
 went to the farthest window, and raising the sash, put 
 his head out, as if the air of the room was stifling. 
 
 " What does this mean?" she exclaimed, in amaze- 
 ment. 
 
 "That I have made a cursed — a fool of myself." 
 
 " There must be some mistake." 
 
 " Yes, a very great mistake — on my part." 
 
 "But Ca?'/os must have made some mistake, or else 
 — she was not at home ; or " 
 
 ' ' No ; the mistake was mine ; / made it — it is aU ex- 
 plained here," opening the clinched hand that held 
 the paper. " Carlos followed his instructions only too 
 well." 
 
 He did not offer her the paper, but closing his fist, he 
 turned again to the open window. His words and sen- 
 tences came in jerks, and his chest rose and fell, as if he 
 
156 "l WAS MISTAKEN." 
 
 was suffering from some difficult}^ in breathing. She 
 noticed, also, that one hand was gripped on the window 
 frame tighter than was necessary to steady himself in 
 leaning out of the window. 
 
 ^ '' Oh, what is the matter?" she cried, after watching 
 him in silence until the suspense became unbearable. 
 '' What can be the matter?" 
 
 Her persistence seemed to irritate him, for, turning, 
 he replied, impatiently : 
 
 *' My flowers were not accepted. I was mistaken — 
 don't you understand ? " 
 
 She shook her head, while tears began to gather in 
 her eyes. He did not see this, however, for, going to 
 his trunk, and jerking up the lid, he commenced pitching 
 in his belongings, that were scattered around the 
 room. 
 
 "I have changed my mind, Mrs. Martin, and I leave 
 in the morning, never to return — never to return to 
 Georgia again. Your soil is too sacred to be desecrated 
 again by my profane foot-steps," he continued, in a bit- 
 ter, sarcastic tone — "your air too etherealized for my 
 plebeian lungs — your lovely climate is consecrated to the 
 particular use of a more favored and exalted class than 
 that to which I belong." 
 
 " Why do you talk that way — what right have you to 
 talk that way about us ? " 
 
 The rebuke in her words, and the tears, which had 
 now reached her cheeks, seemed to bring him to his 
 senses, for instantly his voice and manner softened. 
 
 " I have no right — none in the world, my dear friend, 
 to speak to you in that manner, and my only excuse is, 
 that my lesson is too much for my brain, all at once." 
 
 " Won't you tell me all about it? Maybe I can help 
 you — at least, help you to bear it." 
 
 " I have told you all there is to tell. Either my great 
 love — my adoration, for it was nothing else — made me 
 too sanguine in judging the unspoken actions of an- 
 other — and I can't believe that to be tlie case, or else I 
 have only been the dupe of a lovely coquette, as, doubt- 
 less many a better man has been before me." 
 
 "I can't believe that Elma Owens is a coquette, 
 and " 
 
 "Then," he inten'upted, bitterly, "it was all my 
 mistake. 1 gave too free a rein to my imagination, 
 
BELLEVIEW. lo7 
 
 making a most egregious blunder, and it is for me to 
 suffer the consequences without nuirmuring. But you 
 must not let this trouble you — you were in no wise to 
 blame. I will get over it in 'time, maybe, and possibly 
 the lesson will be worth something — will partly repay 
 me for what I suffer now." During the utterance of the 
 last sentence, he returned to his trunk-packing in 
 the same reckless manner as before. 
 
 " Stop ; I will pack your trunk. You must not throw 
 your things in that way." 
 
 He desisted, and then, as if urged on by an uncon- 
 trollable desire to be doing something, commenced tak- 
 ing them out again. She pushed him gently to one side, 
 and stooping down, began arranging the contents in a 
 more methodical manner, while he returned to the open 
 window, having, apparently, lost all interest in the pro- 
 ceedings. 
 
 *' It will not hold all j'our things, and there are some 
 of your books left out," she said, after her deft fingers 
 had systematically filled both body and tray. 
 
 '' It does not matter — I don't know that I will ever 
 need them again. If I do, they can be forwarded by 
 express." 
 
 *' You do not mean that you will never come back to 
 see us ? A little later, when your troubles will not be so 
 heavy, you will come ? Surely, if you knew how warm 
 a place you hold in both of our affections, you would not 
 refuse us that ? " 
 
 This appeal, and the exhibition of the sincerest sor- 
 row and sympathy on her part, again brought him to 
 his natural self. Coming forward, and taking her hand 
 in both of his, he said : 
 
 '' My dear friend, I'm not at all myself to-night, and 
 scarcely know what I have said or done. If I have seemed 
 rude and unkind, it was not for want of gratitude, or of 
 appreciation of your never-ending kindness — that will 
 never be forgotten so long as life lasts. I would be a 
 brute, indeed, should I forget the trouble you have 
 taken to add to my comfort and happiness, and rest as- 
 sured, that if the time should ever come when I can 
 trust myself back at Somerville, and circumstances 
 should permit my coming, it will be to this house that 
 my foot-steps are first directed. You have come as 
 near filling my mother's place as any woman possibly 
 
158 "l WAS MISTAKEN.'* 
 
 could, and your place in my heart will always be close 
 to hers. But if I ever return to Somerville, my feelings 
 will have to change from what they are to-night, more 
 than I think is possible. To staj^ here now, even if my 
 mother was perfectly well, would drive me crazy — it 
 would — " he stopped, as if words were too weak to ex- 
 press what he felt. 
 
 " Are you certain that you are not acting too hast- 
 ily." 
 
 "I har^e acted too hastily, but not now." 
 
 " How were those brought back ? " she asked, pointing 
 to the flowers. 
 
 ''I do not know. I found them here on coming in 
 from supper." 
 
 "Maybe the occurrence can be explained, and it will 
 turn out different from what yow think," she said eager- 
 ly, catching at the straw. It was hard for Mrs. Mar- 
 tin to give up the idea that some error or blunder of the 
 servants was causing the trouble. With a ghastly smile 
 — if such a contortion of the features could be called a 
 smile — he opened the hand containing the piece of 
 crumpled paper. 
 
 *' You forget this." 
 
 *' Is that a note from — from Elm a, and did it come 
 back with the flowers ? " 
 
 '' It is, and it was with the flowers. It is useless to 
 talk about it," he added, as if weary of the subject, 
 " all is explained." 
 
 She looked at the paper wistfully, but he did not offer 
 it to be read, and delicacy forbade her asking, and, 
 after some efforts at consolation, which seemed to fall 
 on ears that were deaf, she reluctantly withdrew. As a 
 parting injunction, she urged him to go to bed, and try 
 to get some sleep, but this advice, also, was without 
 effect. 
 
 Mrs. Martin was not by any means satisfied, and, 
 on leaving the room, immediately hunted up Carlos. 
 
 " What did Miss Elma say when you gave her those 
 flowers this evening? " 
 
 " I didn't see Miss Elma. She warn't at home." 
 
 " What did you do with them, then ? " 
 
 "Massa Leon tuk 'em. He sed he'd 'tend to 'em." 
 
 " How came he to take the bouquet?" 
 
 " He's de only one I seed. He come to de do' when 
 
BELLEVIEW. l'}9 
 
 I knoct, and seel he'd take charge ob 'em till Miss Elma 
 come home." 
 
 '' You didn't bring them back, then?" 
 
 '' No, ma'am," he answered, stretching his eyes in as- 
 tonishment. " I neber seed him 'em no more." 
 
 '' That will do. Tell Celia I want her to come to my 
 room." 
 
 Mr. Martin looked up from his paper inquiringly, 
 when his wife returned to her customary seat by the sit- 
 ting-room fire. 
 
 *' Has Wyndship given up his call? " 
 
 *' I believe so." 
 
 *' Why does he not come in and sit with us until bed- 
 time, then?" 
 
 "I advised him to go to bed," she answered eva- 
 sively. 
 
 Mr. Martin perceived the troubled look on his wife's 
 face, and at once connected it with their boarder's se- 
 clusion, and also with his relinquishment of the visit to 
 Belleview. 
 
 '^ Something is the matter," he said, after a moment's 
 scrutiny of his companion's countenance. " What is 
 it?" 
 
 "That is just what I would like to know." 
 
 Just then, Celia, who was the house-girl, opened the 
 door. 
 
 " Did you put that bouquet and note in Mr. Wynd- 
 ship's room this evening ? " 
 
 " Yes, ma'am." 
 
 *' Where did they come from?" 
 
 " I doesn't know ma'am. A nigger man fotched 'em 
 when 3^'alls war at de grave-yard." 
 
 " Whose negro man was he?" 
 
 " I doesn't know. He's er stranger ter me.** 
 . " Does he belong to Colonel Gachet, you think? " 
 
 " No'm ; T kno's all de Coloners niggers, 'n' I'm sho' 
 it warn't none er his." 
 
 "What did he say?" 
 
 "He 'est said dey was fm* de teacher gemman — dat 
 was all." 
 
 " Didn't he say who sent them?" 
 
 " No'm." 
 
 "How did he come? — was he walking, riding, or 
 how?" 
 
160 "l WAS MISTAKEN." 
 
 *' He was een er waggin, ma'am. He left it standin' at 
 de gate, 'n' got out 'u' came to de do' ." 
 
 "Did you notice which way he went?" 
 
 " He dmv off down tru town, but I never wait ter 
 see whar he went." 
 
 Mrs. Martin was rather nonplussed — her investigation 
 so far only tended to make the mystery more obscure. 
 Convinced that Celia was telling the tiath, she bade her 
 withdraw, after a moment's thought. 
 
 " Goodness !" exclaimed Mr. Martin, who had been a 
 silent listener. " What does all this mean, Ellen ? " 
 
 In reply, she told him what had transpu'ed between 
 Elma and Wyndship, so far as she knew, including the 
 sending and return of the flowers, and how much the 
 young man seemed to suffer by the rebuff. In conclu- 
 sion, she asked his opinion of the matter. 
 
 " Did you see the note she sent back with the bou- 
 quet?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Do you know anything of its contents? " 
 
 "No ; he did not tell me, nor did he offer to let mu 
 read it. He only said that ' all was explained.' " 
 
 " His conclusion, then, seems to be the only plausible 
 solution of the affair. He either made a most stupen- 
 dous blunder in inteipreting the manner in which she re- 
 ceived his proposal, or else she could not resist the temp- 
 tation to flirt a little at his expense." 
 
 " Neither of those theories is the least bit plausible 
 to my mind." 
 
 " From what I know of his character," continued Mr. 
 Martin, disregarding his wife's remark, " I do not be- 
 lieve he could have made such a blunder, consequently, 
 she must have been throwing dust in his eyes." 
 
 " Please, ma'am," interrupted Carlos, opening the 
 door, " dar was one thing I think, may by, I orter tell 
 yer." 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 " Massa Leon looked like — ^like he'd been drinkin' — 
 'n' torkcd sorter — sorter strange like." 
 
 " What did he say ? — what were the very words he 
 used — as near as you can remember them ? " 
 
 " He said — beg pardon. Miss Ellen, but he said he'd 
 * tek kear uv de damn'd ting.' '* 
 
BELLEVIEW. 161 
 
 *' That will do, Carlos — I don't want to hear any 
 more." 
 
 Mrs. Martin's knitting dropped from her fingers, and 
 she went off into a brown study ; that is, if women who 
 are governed by intuition, and not by judgment, ever 
 indulge in such a moodo To her, there was some mys- 
 tery behind the curtain to be fathomed. She could not 
 yet believe that she had been so badly deceived in El- 
 ma's character, as her husband's suggestion implied. 
 Her observations had led her to think that the girl had 
 been interested in Wyndship ; but even if such had not 
 been the case, she felt assured that the fact would have 
 been made known to him in the least objectionable 
 manner — that the flowers would have been retained, any- 
 how, and that she would have written the sender a kind 
 and friendly note, correcting the error into which he had 
 fallen. Wyndship' s manner did not indicate that her 
 note was of this character, but gave evidence of other 
 feelings than those that should have been excited by a 
 kindly rejection. Then there was the way by which they 
 were returned — a mystery in itself, for why should she 
 have gone out of the way to secure the services of a 
 strange negro to act as messenger, when there were al- 
 ways more servants about Belleview than duties for 
 them to perform ? Carlos saw no one but Leon — where 
 were the remainder of the household at the time ? It 
 could not have been more than an hour or two later 
 when the strange negro handed the flowers back to 
 Celia. '' Could it be possible that Leon Gachet returned 
 them, and wrote that note himself?" Unconsciously, 
 the question was uttered aloud. 
 
 ''If he did, he signed his own name to the note," 
 said Mr. Martin, in answer. ''His words, as reported 
 by Carlos, are perfectly natural, and it is in keeping 
 with his character to have done such an act, but he 
 would have done it boldly, assuming all responsibil- 
 ity." 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 BmS. MARTIN SEES THE NOTE. 
 
 Mrs. Martin's parting injunction, to "go to bed, 
 and get some sleep," was thrown away on Wyndship. 
 Scarcely Imd she left the room, when the self-control he 
 
162 IVIRS. MARTIN SEES THE NOTE. 
 
 had been trying to maintain, broke down, and he com- 
 menced pacing restlessly back and forth in the narrow 
 confines of his room. This he kept up for some time — 
 until the excess of his passion had been worked off — 
 then, drawing a chair to the open window, he sat down, 
 unmindful of the chilly night air. The reversal had 
 been sudden and great — from the very pinnacle of hap- 
 piness he had fallen into the deepest and darkest pit of 
 despair. Onl}^ a few days before, the greatest of all bless- 
 ings, as he thought, was followed by unexpected good 
 fortune ; and now, the bitterest of disappointments was 
 treading on the heels of a trouble, scarcely supportable 
 itself. In those few days he had tasted the elixir of 
 love, had reveled in the paradise of mortals ; but the 
 elixir had changed to the poisonous knowledge of evil, 
 and henceforth he must tread his way through the thorns 
 and thistles of a hopeless life. There were no half-way 
 measures in this experience — as his joy had been with- 
 out alloy, so his misery was now without the least pros- 
 pect of redemption — and the midnight of his latter state 
 only showed deeper gloom, in comparison with the tran- 
 scendant brightness of the former. Other men, with 
 different temperaments, would have found relief in an- 
 ger, or consolation through the self-assurance, that "the 
 grapes were sour," but this was not possible with him ; 
 he had made an idol of a woman, had endowed her with 
 divinity, enthroned her as the goddess of his heart, and 
 the blow which shivered this idol into fragments, left a 
 wound which no such ointments could ever heal. His 
 love was all sincerity — he had held no forces in reserve, 
 had kept open no lines of retreat — on this venture for 
 happiness, he had staked everything ; for, if he won, 
 nothing was left to be desired ; and if he lost, there was 
 nothing more to try for. 
 
 Even had he been like other men, cautious, politic, 
 wise in deceit ; dividing his affections, by bestowing 
 half on himself, and only risking half in the enterprise ; 
 still, would not these two troubles have tried his powers 
 of endurance to the utmost? Would not the loss, in 
 one night, of both a mother and a lover — for the 
 new-born hopes of the former had been drowned 
 in despair at the loss of the latter — have over- 
 whelmed even the most selfish of men? Have bowed 
 the coolest head, the hardest heart, in hopeless grief? 
 
BKLLEVIEW. 103" 
 
 In the '^ee hours of the iiiornhig he arose from his 
 seat, pale, exhausted, and shivering with cokl, to re- 
 sume his preparations for departure. Catching sight of 
 the fateful flowers, still Ij'ing on the table, he took them 
 up, and started to throw them out of the window, but a 
 sudden thought stayed his hand. 
 
 ''What a fit emblem," he muttered, "of my short- 
 lived happiness, so fair and fragrant a few short hours 
 ago, and now faded and dead beyond all hopes of res- 
 urrection. AVill it not also be a fit reminder of my 
 foU}^ — a suitable representative of dearly-bought wis- 
 dom? Yes: I'll keep it as a talisman, to guard me 
 from another such a blunder — one glance at its with- 
 ered beauty will prevent me from ever again placing 
 faith in woman. But why should I, when there is no 
 possible chance of my ever loving, of my ever believing 
 — of my ever being such a fool again?" Nevertheless, 
 he threw them into the tray of his trunk, and locked it, 
 ready for the journey, Mrs, Martin had left little else 
 for him to do, so closing the window, he lay down, 
 wrapping the bed-clothing around him, trying, by that 
 means, to bring a little warmth into his shivering 
 and passion-exhausted body. 
 
 His haggard appearance next morning, showed very 
 plainly how he had spent the night, and excited Mrs. 
 Martin's alarm. 
 
 " You are not well," she said — " you are in no con- 
 dition to travel, and must not start to-day." 
 
 " Oh, yes, I am — I'm quite well." 
 "I know better than that — you won't hold out to 
 ofet home. You will oet down sick somewhere on the 
 road, among strangers, so you had better stay here." 
 
 Her expostulations, however, had no more effect on 
 his determination than the tempting breakfast she had 
 ordered before daylight, had upon his appetite. Drink- 
 ing a few mouthfuls of coffee, he arose to finish his 
 preparations for departure. Mrso Martin's regret and 
 uneasiness did not make her forget a certain resolution 
 that she had formed, and that was to see the note he had 
 received with the return of the flowers. She still be- 
 lieved that something was wrong, and thought, prob- 
 ably, if she had an opportunity to examine the docu- 
 ment, that she might find a clew. As there was no 
 time to lose, and no prospect of her wish being grati- 
 
1G4 Mr.s. MAr.TiN sees the note. 
 
 fied in any other way, she followed him ont of the room, 
 and asked to see it. 
 
 " It is in my trunk," he answered ; and then added, 
 hesitatingly, " I will get it out for you before I leave." 
 
 In compliance with this promise, when he was bidding 
 her good-bye, he handed her an unsealed and undirected 
 envelope, saying : " Yc i can read it when I'm gone 
 — and then destroy it." 
 
 A few minutes later, when the buggy had carried him 
 out of sight, she returned to her room, and after wiping 
 her eyes, opened and read : 
 
 " Mr. "VVyndship : 
 
 I return your flowers, as, after readino: j^our note, their 
 retention, on my part, would be in equally as bad taste as I 
 conceive the sending to have been on yours. I reijret that the 
 friendly attention, which I, in conjunction with others of the 
 family, thought incumbent on us to show a stranger in your 
 position, has been so entirely misconstrued. Amazement at 
 first, and an interruption afterwards, prevented me, the other 
 evening, from inflicting the rebuke your presumption mer- 
 ited. 
 
 Respectfully, 
 
 Elma Owkxs." 
 
 Surprise, pain, and anger, in quick succession, fol- 
 lowed each other over Mrs. Martin's countenance, as 
 she read the foregoing, and, as the latter feeling gained 
 the ascendancy, the crumpled paper rattled in her lin- 
 gers. She perceived at the first giauce that it was in a 
 lady's hand-writing — Elma's, she decided — although the 
 characters were not so gi-aceful as that young lady's 
 chirography usually appeared. That difference, how- 
 ever, could have been caused, she thought, by hurry or 
 excitement. 
 
 *' Well, I never!" she ejaculated to herself — "I 
 never would have believed it of her. Poor fellow," she 
 continued, after a moment's angiy silence, '' I can im- 
 agine what you have, and are sulTeriug. Oh, how lit- 
 tle and mean ! There is one consolation, however, and 
 that is, that she is in no wise worthy of his love, and — 
 he now knows it." She read the note over a second 
 time, and then, with a very n-d face and flashing eyes, 
 she threw it towards the fire. Never before, probalDly, 
 had her gentle bosom contained so much wrath, or such 
 a contemptible opinion of a human being, as she that 
 
BELLEVIE^. 165 
 
 moment felt for one whom she had hitherto regarded 
 with special favoritism. She had had such a high opin- 
 ion of Elma's character — of her gentleness, her mod- 
 est}^ and of her freedom from everything like coquetry — 
 believing her to be far above anything that was little 
 and despisable. She had always regarded her as being 
 as near perfect as girls ever became, and here she had 
 played with an honest man's love as if it was as worth- 
 less as a. glass jewel, and had written to him in just such 
 language as should call the blush of shame to the cheek 
 of the most brazen flirt. How could she have been so badly 
 mistaken? Was no confidence to be placed in any? 
 Were all alike — all vain, frivolous, and insolent — care- 
 less of the misery they inflicted on others, if only they 
 could gratify their love of adulation, and exhibit a little 
 idiotic smartness? If Elma Owens possessed these 
 faults, what girl of her acquaintance could be free ? If 
 such a false and bigoted pride controlled her, did it not 
 also control all of her class, verifying the accusations 
 thrown at them by the Northern people ? And then, too, 
 she had praised this girl so highly to Wyndship ; had 
 described her as possessing such noble qualities — aye, 
 had encouraged his love, and his hopes, only to bring 
 upon him the cruelest of blows. It was all partly her 
 own work, for, had she not given him the advice she 
 did, he, obeying the promptings of his more correct judg- 
 ment, would never have placed himself at her mercy. 
 It was too much. Under the influence of these conflict- 
 ing emotions — remorse for her own mistake, pity for 
 Wyndship, and outraged affection for Elma — the angry 
 light in her eyes was drowned in tears, and the agitated 
 face hid itself in folded arms, resting on the work-table 
 at her side. 
 
 After a little while she became more composed, and 
 drying her eyes, started up to perform her customary 
 household duties. As she did so, she caught sight of 
 the obnoxious note, lying on the hearth, where it had 
 fallen, just short of the fire. With a contemptuous mo- 
 tion of her foot, she started to kick it among the coals, 
 when a sudden thought checked the motion. Stooping 
 down, she picked it up, carefully smoothed out the 
 creases, restored it to the envelope, and then dropped 
 it into the pocket of her dress. Even as good a woman 
 as Mrs. Martin can, under some circumstances, relish a 
 
166 ^mS. MARTIN SEES THE NOTE. 
 
 little revenge, and just at that moment, she could im- 
 agine no greater enjoyment, than to some day show that 
 note to its author, with a hint of her own opinion of 
 one who could write it. 
 
 Late in the afternoon of the same day, Colonel 
 Gachet returned home from Milledgeville, in high spirits 
 over the results of the convention. His fondest dreams 
 were, as he thought, at the point of being realized, and 
 that Southern Republic, which of late had become the 
 subject of his political desires — ^the imaginary object of 
 his patriotic devotion — was about to be established be- 
 fore the eyes of an astonished and admiring world. He 
 fully believed that it would be the model government, 
 perfect in its mechanism, free from all internal dissen- 
 sions, and respected for the boldness of its people, and 
 for its high conception of political liberty. His san- 
 guine anticipations were not marred by any spectre of 
 coming evil ; not even did Burns's inimitable lines : 
 
 *' The best laid plans of mice and man, 
 Gang aft a-gley," 
 
 recur to his memory to cause any uneasiness about the 
 future. The Northern States, he argued, with 
 such large manufacturing and commercial interest, 
 and with so much division amongst its citizens, would 
 not dare to precipitate a war. The dominant party 
 would be powerless, finding their recent victory not only 
 barren, but suicidal in its effect on themselves ; for 
 the people, even up there, would ascribe the rupture to 
 the hateful and pernicious doctrines they taught, and, at 
 the next election, if not sooner, would relegate their 
 fanatical leaders to merited obscurity. The Colonel's 
 own library could have taught him that some of the 
 most desperate struggles recorded in history were made 
 by a commercial and manufacturing people, such as 
 that sustained by the burghers of Flanders against their 
 count, aided by the French, in the fourteenth century ; 
 and later, that carried on by the Netherlands against 
 Louis XIV. But others in the South, with cooler heads 
 than his, were deceived by just such arguments. 
 
 At the supper-table, amidst his remarks about the 
 ^'heroic stand the Southern States were assuming," he 
 found time to say : 
 
BELLE VIEW. 167 
 
 "' What is this about AYynclship's going back North?" 
 
 " Going North ! " ejaculated his wife and daughter, in 
 the same breath. His two other auditors remained silent, 
 but their countenances did not exhibit altogether total 
 indifference to the news. 
 
 "Yes. I met him in Milton to-day, and he told me 
 that he was on his way North. That he had received a 
 letter from his sister, telling him that his mother was 
 very sick — thought to be dying." 
 
 '' This is the first I have heard about it," said his 
 wife, adding, in a sympathetic tone, " I am very sorry 
 to hear of his misfortune." 
 
 " I asked him," continued the Colonel, "if he in- 
 tended returning, and he told me he did not." 
 
 " llis departure must have been very sudden," re- 
 marked Mollie, glancing furtively at Elma, " or else he 
 would have come out to tell us good-bye." 
 
 " He did not seem inclined to talk, and consequently 
 I did not ask him many questions. I wonder," he 
 added, after a moment's silence, "if secession had any- 
 thing to do with his leaving, or with his resolution not to 
 return ? " 
 
 "Possibly it had," remarked his son, in a tone that 
 was intended to mean indifference. 
 
 " I had hoped that such was not the case ; that ho 
 was too fair-minded a man, too just in his conceptions 
 of right and wrong, to forsake us for adopting the only 
 honorable course left for the South to pursue." AYith 
 the Colonel, one idea was always dominant for the time, 
 and he could scarcely realize that any other considera- 
 tions, at present, could influence a person's actions, 
 save those of a political nature. 
 
 Elma's lips parted as if to speak, but closed again in 
 silence. A close observer might have noticed that she 
 had twice buttered the same waffle, and that she was 
 stirring her tea of tener than Mollie's generosity in the 
 way of sugar ever made necessary. A better light 
 might have also shown that the color of her face had 
 changed more than once since the conversation began. 
 In silence she fidgeted with the contents of her plate long 
 enough to avoid exciting suspicion, and then arose and 
 went up to her room. Possibly Mollie was the only 
 close observer — at least, Leon seemed to be engaged in 
 affecting a mask of indifference himself ; in suppressing 
 
168 MRS. MARTIN MAKES A DISCOVERY. 
 
 a self -consciousness in his manner, and of veiling the 
 triumphant sparkle in his black eyes. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 MRS. MARTIN BIAKES A DISCOVERY. 
 
 *' You ought to have seen them before I cut all the 
 blooms off to decorate little Lizzie Ballou's coffin. I 
 never had my hot-house plants to do so well as they 
 have done this winter." 
 
 The speaker was Mrs. Martin, and the person she was 
 addressing was Mollie Gachet. Several days had passed 
 since Wyndship's departure, and that note still remained 
 in the drawer of her work-table. Although the first 
 glance at the hand-writing had convinced her of its 
 genuineness, a conviction which had been strengthened 
 by subsequent consideration of the circumstances, yet 
 she had not put her contemplated revenge into execu- 
 tion. This delay was owing to two causes : first, no op- 
 portunity had voluntarily offered itself ; and secondly, 
 ever since that morning, there had been steadily grow- 
 ing in her heart, a strong feeling of reluctance to a 
 meeting with Elma. When she thought of the affection 
 she once felt for this girl, how much she liked and ad- 
 mired her supposed character, and how bitterly she had 
 been disappointed, a strong repulsion to the necessary 
 interview, which she could not control, would overcome 
 the desire for revenge. Consequently, she did not go 
 to Belieview in search of the opportunity, as she first 
 intended. Influenced by this feeling, when she met 
 Elma at church, on the Sunday that had intervened, she 
 did not stop for the customary little chat after services 
 vrere over, but merely bov/ed and passed on. Now she 
 had not abandoned the resolution formed on the impulse 
 of the moment, altogether, but was only waiting until 
 her OAvn heart had recovered, somewhat, from its sore- 
 ness. 
 
 Mollie had called on Mrs. Martin, partly because she 
 and Elma had always been in the habit of visiting there 
 quite frequently ; and — well, partly because she had her 
 suspicions, and was curious to learn the facts about 
 
BELLEVIEW. 160 
 
 Wyndship's sudden departure. The two girls generally 
 made their calls together, but this time, Elma declined 
 to come, giving no reason other than she did not feel 
 like visiting. Most of the afternoon had passed, and 
 Mollie had learnt nothing more than she already knew. 
 In the first place, she was too innocent and frank her- 
 self to succeed as a cross-examiner ; and secondly, her 
 coming alone only tended to confirm Mrs. Martin's be- 
 lief in the other's guilt, and she resolved to reveal noth- 
 ing concerning AYyndship. If Elma was not satisfied 
 with her triumph she thought, and had sent her friend 
 to find out how her victim took his " rebuke," she should 
 be disappointed to that extent, at least. 
 
 When one lady called upon another in ante-bellum 
 Georgia, it was usually part of the entertainment for the 
 hostess to take her visitor out to view her flowers. In 
 the spring and summer they went to the open yard, and 
 in the winter to the hot-house, or pit. It was a subject 
 that was supposed to interest every one, for nearly 
 every one possessed, or assumed to possess, a fondness 
 for nature's jewels. In compliance Avith this custom, 
 the two had gone out to Mrs. Ma-rtin's little hot-house, 
 and Mollie had been expressing her admiration over the 
 treasures it contained. 
 
 "Oh! I know they must have been lovely. Mrs. 
 Ballon was telling mother, the other day, how generous 
 3^ou were with your flowers." 
 
 '' Why didn't you come out to the burial? " 
 
 " We were not at home. We did not hear of it until 
 we got back that night. Mother hated our being ab- 
 sent, and if she had known about the burial, would have 
 put off our visit to Gay's Hill." 
 
 "Did you go to Gay's Hill that day?" 
 
 "Yes. We had been promising Judge and Mrs. 
 Brown to spend a day with them for some time. The 
 weather that week was so fine, and we were so lonesome 
 at Belleview — Father and Brother both being gone — 
 that we went up soon in the morning, and stayed all 
 day." 
 
 " Well ; if I had known you had seen Mrs. Brown's 
 flowers lately, I wouldn't have shown you mine — hers, I 
 know, are so much finer." 
 
 " Oh, no, they are riot — no one can beat you, Mrs. 
 
170 MRS. MARTIN MAKES A DISCOVERY. 
 
 Martin. That new oleander of yours, is, I know, the 
 most beautiful thing in all creation." 
 
 Mrs. Martin smiled, i^artly on account of her young 
 visitor's enthusiasm, and partly on account of the com- 
 pliment to her king of flowers. 
 
 "Mrs. Brown," continued MoUie, " has a new variety 
 of geraniums that I never saw before. She gave me 
 some cuttings, but they didn't live." 
 
 " What was the matter? They are generally very 
 easy to propagate." 
 
 " Father says I didn't manage them right. I went 
 and set them out myself, as soon as we got home, al- 
 though it was then nearly dark." 
 
 Mrs. ISIartin sat down suddenly on an unoccupied 
 bench, giving utterance to something like a gasp. If 
 Elma went with Mollie and her mother to Gay's Hill, 
 and did not get back home until nearly dark, how could 
 she have written that note ? 
 
 ''Are 3^ou sick, Mrs. Martin? I'm afraid I am keep- 
 ing you from the fire too long." 
 
 "Oh, no — there is nothing the matter with me. What 
 day did you go to Judge Brown's? " 
 
 The Thursday that Lizzie Ballon y\ as buried — the day 
 before Father got home, and — before Mr. Wyndship 
 left." 
 
 " Where was Elma that day ? " 
 
 " Why, she went with us." 
 
 " What time did she come back? " 
 
 " She came back with us, of course," answered Mol- 
 lie, with increasing surprise. "We all went in the 
 carriage, and there was no other way for her to get 
 back. Elma seemed to enjoy the visit very much, but 
 I tell her that the trip or the Judge's muscadine wine, 
 one must have made her sick, as she has had the ' sol- 
 emncholy' ever since." 
 
 " You must have left Belleview deserted all day?" 
 
 " Entirely so. Mother gave Minty and the cook a 
 holiday, Tony di-ove the carriage, and we took Lina 
 w^ith us. It seemed very strange for no one to have 
 been about the house for a whole day — something that 
 does not often happen — well. Brother got home some time 
 in the afternoon. He was sick, and had gone to bed 
 when we got back." The light cheerful tone became 
 very serious, and a blush colored her face, when she 
 
BELLEVIEW. 171 
 
 spoke of her brother's sickness. Mrs. Martin under- 
 stood as well, or better, probably, than she did, that his 
 sickness meant intoxication. Rising to her feet, the 
 latter turned impulsively, and^broke off the solitary bloom 
 on her royal oleander. 
 
 "Oh! what are you doing?" cried Mollie, in dis- 
 may. 
 
 '' I am pulling this for you, my dear." 
 
 " But it is the only one you have?" 
 
 " And what of that? I wouldn't know where to find 
 a sweeter maiden on whom to bestow my king," she 
 answered, with an affectionate laugh. 
 
 Mollie thanlved her for the flower, and as it was grow- 
 ing late, soon afterwards made her adieus. 
 
 " Tell Elma she must come to see me soon. I want 
 to see her on a special matter — that she must come to- 
 morrow." 
 
 The late repulsion had suddenly all vanished, and 
 with it went the intention and desire for revenge. For 
 a different reason, Mrs. Martin was now more anxious 
 than ever to show Elma that note, and could hardly 
 endure the thought of having to wait until the next day. 
 So much did the matter occupy her thoughts, that she 
 could not resist the temptation to mention it to her hus- 
 band that night, when they were sitting around the 
 fire. 
 
 '* Haven't you quit thinking about that yet? " 
 
 "No, I have not." 
 
 " Is it the slight to Wyndship, or .to your flowers, 
 that is hurting you the most? " 
 
 " No," she said, ignoring his last question, " I 
 haven't quit thinking about it yet, and that is not all ; I 
 have not quit finding out about it, either." 
 
 " Well, what have j^ou found out?" 
 
 "I have found out that Elma was not at home that 
 evening until nearly dark." 
 
 " Phew! How do you know that?" he asked, with 
 sudden interest. 
 
 "Mollie told me so this evening. She, with her 
 mother and Elma, went to Gay's Hill that day, and did 
 not retm-n until after sunset." 
 
 " And the bouquet was returned before sunset? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 *' Maybe she is mistaken in the day." 
 
172 MRS. MARTIN MAKES A DISCOVERY. 
 
 "No, she is not mistaken. — And that is not all I have 
 found Old.'' 
 
 "Well, what else?" 
 
 " That Leon Gachet was the only person that was at 
 Belleview that evening." 
 
 Mr. Martin was visibly surprised by his wife's infor- 
 mation. After a moment's thought, he said : "I never 
 would have traced up that unknown messenger, which, I 
 think, could have been easily done. I felt certain that 
 Leon had too much sense, and too much honor, to have 
 been guilty of such an action." 
 
 "A jealous rival, crazed with drink, is not usually 
 endowed with much wisdom, or with a very keen sense 
 of honor. I am going to the bottom of this affair now, 
 no matter what happens. Carlos can find the negro that 
 drove that wagon, and he shall do it." 
 
 Mr. Martin could not keep from laughing at his wife's 
 earnestness, although he felt very much interested in the 
 affair himself. 
 
 " I declare, old lady, you are a born detective, as 
 well as a match-maker. What a pity that jou have to 
 wear petticoats." 
 
 " You may laugh, sir, as much as 3'ou please, but I 
 am in earnest — I am determined that that sin shall be 
 brought home to the guilty one," she replied, more em- 
 phatic than ever. 
 
 Moliie promptly delivered the message, and added, 
 when Eima made no repl}^ : 
 
 " By the way, I thought she was rather specially in- 
 terested in our visit to Judge Brown's — asking m,e what 
 day vre went, if you accompanied us, and what time in 
 the afternoon we got back —in fact, I thought her man- 
 ner and questions a little peculiar." 
 
 " Did she say what she wanted to see me about? " 
 
 " No, m' amie^ but I had my suspicions. I imagined 
 that she had heard from some one who left Somerville 
 not very long ago, and probably has a message to de- 
 liver," answered Moliie, mischievously. 
 
 " No likelihood of that," was the quick reply, in a 
 tone that warned the other th:\t si 10 was touching on 
 iui unpleasant subject. 
 
 Moliie had not been so much preoccupied with her 
 pwu love ^^air as to be eutu-ely blind to what had 
 
BELLEVIEW. 173 
 
 passed between her friend and Wyndship. The latter's 
 admiration had not escaped her observation, and nat- 
 urally feeling some interest on both Elma's and her 
 brother's account, she had added a good deal by guesses. 
 His sudden departure, without, as far as she knewj 
 any communication with the object of his admiration,' 
 coupled with a slight, but unaccountable change in the 
 latter's manner since then, had made her suspect that 
 all was not right between the two. Her own exuberant 
 happiness rendered her only the more sympathetic about 
 any troubles her friend might have, and, as love was the 
 principal subject of her own reflections, she, as a mat- 
 ter of course, ascribed Elma's late pensiveness to the 
 same source. 
 
 ''Elma,"she asked, caressingly, ''I want to ask 
 you a question. Will you give me your— a truthful 
 answer?" 
 
 /'I can't promise that, my dear, until I hear the ques- 
 tion. It might be one I couldn't answer." 
 ^ ''Oh, yes you can— if you will. Won't you prom- 
 ise ? ' ^1 
 
 " I must hear the question first." 
 
 " You are not generous, nor— nor just, either. You 
 do not confide in me as I do in you." 
 
 A slight expression of uneasiness was visible in El- 
 ma's face and manner, as she tried to evade this accu- 
 sation. 
 
 " That is because I have nothing to confide." 
 " I have never kept anything back from you," Molli-- 
 contniued, in a reproachful tone. " I have always told 
 you my secrets— told you all about— about Charley " 
 she added, in pretty confusiom ; '' and— and I didn't 
 wait for you to ask me, either." 
 
 " I know you have, my dear little friend, and I fully 
 appreciate your confidence ; but I— I have nothino- like 
 that to confide. Should I ever have a lover, like you 
 have, I promise you now to be equally as free as you 
 have been, and will tell you all about it as soon as it 
 occurs. But-but you will have to wait, I fear, a good " 
 long time. _ The assumption of jocularity with which 
 this was said, was a miserable failure, and did not de- 
 ceive the other in the least. 
 
 T Z,'-^^ J?'' ^''^'' ^^""^ ^ ^^'^^^*- Haven't you one now? 
 I thought as much a week or two back." ■ " '' ^ 
 
174 MRS. MARTIN MAKES A DISCOVERY. 
 
 The flush on Ehna's face deepened a little, and then 
 died away, leaving it pale and hard. 
 
 "No doubt," she answered, bitterly, " that — that I 
 have had make-believe lovers, who make love for fun, 
 and for amusement, but I have no reason to believe that 
 I have ever had any of the genuine kind, lil^e yours, 
 yet." 
 
 *' I thought that Mr. Wyndship was in love with you 
 — I was certain of it, and " 
 
 " You must not be so certain about the things you im- 
 agine," interrupted Elma. 
 
 *' I don't believe it was im.agination altogether. 
 Hasn't some trouble — some misunderstanding arisen be- 
 tween you and him?" 
 
 " AVhat misunderstanding could there be between — 
 between us ? You are giving too loose a rein to your 
 fancy. There is no telling what improbable picture it 
 will conjure up next." 
 
 " You talk that way, Elma, to hide the truth from me. 
 I was not the only one to think the same thing — Char — 
 Mr. Hurst said that Mr. Wyndship was badly smitten ; 
 and he asked me once what I thought would be his fate, 
 sJiould he ever muster up courage enough to make a pro- 
 posal." 
 
 " What did vou say ? " asked the other, quickly. 
 
 " That I didn't know." 
 
 " I have been told that some men, when they are in- 
 toxicated, think every one else is drunker than them- 
 selves, and I expect it is the same way with you 
 lovers." 
 
 Mollie was not convinced, but not wishing to extort 
 her friend's confidence, v^'hich she thought should have 
 been given voluntarily, she desisted from further ques- 
 tions, and, being a little touched by this want of confi- 
 dence, left Elma to her own reflections. 
 
 Since that night in Christmas week, Elma had spent 
 no little time in this occupation, or rather want of oc- 
 cupation. It did not take her long to find out how she 
 liked being loved by the " Yankee teacher." The strange 
 flutter at her heart, when she lay in his arms, and heard 
 his broken exclamations of love and horror, were soon in- 
 terpreted, forcing the acknowledgment that it was a very 
 pleasant experience, and that she valued this conquest 
 higher than any other blessing life could bring. Neithur 
 
BELLEVIEW. 175 
 
 could phe see any reason why he should not follow up 
 his disclosure of his love, by sueiug for the hand and 
 heart she was read}' to bestow in exchange. When the 
 declaration came, that afternoon in the boat, happiness 
 and a natural confusion kept her silent at first, and be- 
 fore she had recovered sufficiently for speech, they were 
 interrupted by Arthur Slaton ; still, she thought, assent 
 hrid heen given in a way that he could not possibly mis- 
 understand. 
 
 Neither could she see any serious objection to their 
 union. That she was rich and he was poor, to her 
 mind, was no obstacle whatever ; although she knew that 
 her guardian and many of her friends would bitterly op- 
 pose the match on that ground — would say that she was 
 marrying below herself, and that she was throwing her- 
 self away, and so forth. But she thought different, and 
 lightly valued her wealth in comparison with the great 
 and noble qualities which her partiality had ascribed to 
 her lover. It is true she rejoiced in having these ad- 
 vantages, but it was because she thought that they would 
 be great assistance to him in his struggle with the 
 world — in his upward course to fame and fortune. Of 
 course he would succeed — no man possessing the quali- 
 ties with which she had endowed him in her imagination 
 could fail of success — and when he had achieved his 
 greatness, if any reflected rays of glory fell on her, 
 they would be valued because they emanated from him, 
 and not for any other distinction they brought. 
 
 Consequently, Colonel Gachet's announcement at the 
 supper- table, that he had met Wyndship on his way 
 back North, was not only a complete surprise, but was 
 also a painful shock, which required all her power of 
 self -control to hide from the others. This was indeed 
 startling news — what could it mean? She could un- 
 derstand why he should promptly fly to the bedside of 
 a dying mother, but why should he leave without ap- 
 prising her of his intention? Surely, he must know 
 that his sorrows and griefs were also hers, and that in 
 so great a trouble he would have from her that heart- 
 felt sympathy to which he was entitled by the position 
 of an accepted lover. And then, too, this assertion 
 that he never expected to return. AYhat did that mean? 
 If this was true, she had been badly duped, and her 
 heart had been the plaything of a man who, probably, 
 
176 :vnis. martin makes a discovert. 
 
 only wished to see what success he could attain in mak- 
 ing love to a Southern girl. Having succeeded, possi- 
 bly, beyond his most sanguine expectation, he now left 
 without a word of explanation ; and if anxiety for his 
 mother permitted any thought of the matter, no doubt 
 he was laughing in his sleeve over the easy victory. At 
 the thought, the hot blood of shame tingled through her 
 veins, dying to a scarlet hue both face and neck, but 
 speedily changing to a deadly pallor, as the full force of 
 the blow was acknowledged b}^ the aching heart. All 
 her pride could not smother the pain, or cure the wound, 
 although it might hide its existence from the prying eyes 
 of the world. Her hero had proved a villain — her idol 
 had turned to clay, and all the worship her heart had 
 been bestowing in secret, had been wasted on a " mock- 
 ing shrine." Oh, how could she have been so badl}^ de- 
 ceived — was it indeed true, that the man she loved — 
 that her fancy had endowed with such noble attributes — 
 had really deserted her just so soon as he discovered his 
 conquest? Surely, there must have been some mistake. 
 Her guardian must have misunderstood the reply, or her 
 lover, absorbed in grief about his mother, did not catch 
 the question aright. Ah, hope and faith — those minis- 
 tering angels — the greatest gifts of God to man, how 
 many a bleeding heart they have anointed with balm, 
 how many a sorrow-burdened soul they have sustained 
 and cherished in the hour of need ? 
 
 " You were away on a visit, the evening before he 
 left," they whispered, " and possibly he did come, find- 
 ing no one at home. After supper he was busy, making 
 arrangements for his sudden departure, and could not 
 repeat the call. He would have so much to do — so many 
 hurried arrangements to make — and the trustees to see 
 about the school — and maybe it was night before he re- 
 ceived his sister's letter. Not being able to see you, he 
 has written, explaining all, and by some accident, or 
 carelessness of others, his note has been delayed ; to-mor- 
 row it will come, and all will be made clear." So faith, 
 for the time, came to the rescue, although it could not 
 keep the pillow dry, that supported Elma's head that 
 night. 
 
 But to-morrow did not bring the expected note. Pa- 
 tiently she waited and watched the coming and going 
 all day, but the dreary shades of night closed down 
 
BELLE VIEW. 1^? 
 
 with no news and no explanation. The next day and 
 the day after were the same, or even worse, for Mrs. 
 Martin's cool nod and passing on without a word de- 
 stroyed her last hopes. The ministrations of faith were 
 ended, her supply of balm exhausted, and to pride alone 
 could she now look for support. This was poor conso- 
 lation, but it did not entirely fail her, and, as the con- 
 viction of her lover's unworthiness — of his baseness 
 and treachery — became a question of doubt no longer, 
 she called all her self-respect to her aid. If this was 
 his true character, how fortunate §he was to discover it 
 in time, even if her heart did bear an incurable wound. 
 This lesson was truly worth the purchase, although it did 
 bring months of pain, and years of humiliation. Love 
 for such a person could be easily conquered, and con- 
 quer it she would, no matter what might be the cost. 
 Every root and vestige of the fatal passion should be 
 torn from her heart, even if it left that member as dead 
 and lifeless as last summer's forest leaves ; and the 
 wound should be concealed from view by a mantle of 
 pride, so close and thick that no one would ever suspect 
 its existence. Such earthly happiness as she had fan- 
 cied was in her grasp, could never be hers again ; still 
 she could live without it, and no one would ever know 
 the difference. 
 
 Thus her pride reasoned, nor was its assurance alto- 
 gether an idle boast. So well did she succeed, so far as 
 concealment went, that none of the family (with the ex- 
 ception of Mollie) suspected the truth ; and even the 
 latter's suspicions were founded more on what she had 
 observed before, than after Wyndship's departure. It 
 was hard work to always keep up this assumption of 
 careless indifference, but if the mask was ever lowered 
 before any one, that person was Mollie. Occasional 
 spells of what that young lady had denominated to Mrs. 
 Martin as solemncholy, had once or twice fallen under her 
 observation, but even these were so slight that she 
 would have attached no particular importance to the 
 symptom, had she not already suspected that something- 
 more than mere friendship was existing between Elma 
 and Wyndship. 
 
 If Leon knew anything, or had ever seen behind the 
 curtain, he made no sign. His attentions had become 
 more tender and lover-like, but this was partly counter- 
 
178 AN EXPLANATION AND A COUNCIL OF WAR. 
 
 balanced by their being more respectful and less obtru- 
 sive ; and it would have been hard to determine whether 
 the difference was caused b}^ sympathy, by prickings of 
 conscience, or because he had fallen more deeply in 
 love. There might have been still another reason, and 
 that was, that she had partly abandoned her old system 
 of evasion, and did not try his patience so severely as 
 before. 
 
 In truth, her burdens had become too onerous, and 
 she too reckless, to care much whether he addressed her 
 or not — even marriage with him was losing some of its 
 repulsive features. True, it offered no prospect of hap- 
 piness ; but what did? AVith whom, or how, could she 
 ever hope for this condition again ? If it pleased and 
 gratified his family, to whom she was indebted for so 
 much kindness, why not make the sacrifice? particularly 
 as she had no hopes to surrender, no bright and joyous 
 aspirations to immolate. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 AN EXPLANATION AND A COUNCIL OF WAR. 
 
 On receiving Mrs. Martin's message, Elma's first im- 
 pulse was not to go — not to visit the house which had 
 lately been the home of one whose deceit had caused 
 her so much pain and humiliation. This repugnance 
 was partly owing to Mollie's suggestion that the former 
 might have some message to deliver from AYyndship. 
 Her pride told her that she did not wish to receive any 
 communication from him, nor, in fact, to ever hear froui 
 him again. He had had his fun at her expense — had 
 won his little triumph — and now let him go on his way 
 rejoicing — she did not wish to ever hear his name called 
 again. It was a strong desire for a solitary horseback 
 ride in the fresh air, and nothing more, that caused her 
 to have her horse saddled next morning. Any other 
 road would have been more secluded than the one 
 through Somerville, still an impulse, which she did not 
 stop to analyze, caused her to turn her horse's head in 
 that direction ; and the same motive povrer caused her 
 to check it before Mrs. Martin's gate. The latter was 
 on the lookout, and before pride and indignation could 
 come to the rescue by the use of Elma's riding whip, 
 
BELLEVIEW. 179 
 
 she appeared at the door, and her solicitations prevailed 
 over their surly promptings. 
 
 It was Mrs. Martin's intention to approach the sub- 
 ject of the note and flowers in a scientific, lawyer-like 
 manner ; that is, to first find out all she could by round- 
 about questions, put in a way that would not excite her 
 visitor's suspicions as to her object. If the result of 
 this investigation should prove satisfactory, verifying 
 the correctness of Mollie's testimony, then she would 
 exhibit the document left with her by W3mdship, and 
 explain her object ; but if it should turn out different, 
 that MoUie was mistaken in dates, then she would have 
 the option whether to proceed with the disclosure, or re- 
 main silent. Unfortunate for this resolve, Mrs. Mar- 
 tin was not a trained lawyer, and was too full of her 
 subject to be cool and skilful. Besides, Elma was easily 
 frightened, and, soon suspecting something, became 
 very cautious and evasive in her replies ; consequently, 
 after one or two miserable failures, the former discarded 
 such tactics in despair, and plunged boldly into the af- 
 fair. 
 
 "Elma," she said, taking the note from her work-box 
 after beguiling her reluctant visitor into removing her 
 hat, *' I want you to look at this, and explain its mean- 
 ing to me. This is what I wanted to see you about." 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 "It is a note — about you, and — and I do not under- 
 stand what it means." 
 
 The thought flashed through Elma's mind at once that 
 the note was from Wyndship, either addressed to Mrs. 
 Martin, and referring to his flirtation with herself ; or 
 else intended for her, and sent under cover of a letter to 
 the former. In either case, he was adding insult to in- 
 jury. Making no motion to take the extended paper, 
 she demanded, in a tone all ice and haughtiness : " Is it 
 addressed to me ? " 
 
 " No, but 3'ou are connected with its contents." 
 
 Elma stiffened perceptibly, and did not even look at 
 the proffered epistle. 
 
 " It has your name signed to it," added her hostess, 
 " but I don't believe you wrote it. Look at it, and tell 
 me if you dM." 
 
 The girl's indignation gave way, somewhat, to sur- 
 prise, and she hesitatingly took the"^ paper and glanced 
 
180 AN EXPLANATION AND A COUNCIL OF WAR. 
 
 over its contents. As she did so, the surprise increased, 
 deepening into amazement. 
 
 " What does this mean?" she exclaimed, when she 
 had finished the perusal. Where did this come from ? 
 What is it?" 
 
 *' You did not write it? " 
 
 ' ' Me ? Write this ? How could I ? " 
 
 *' It bears your signature." 
 
 "My name, but not my signature — I never saw it be- 
 fore. What does this mean, Mrs. Martin?" 
 
 " Mr. Wyndship sent you some flowers once that you 
 declined to accept." 
 
 " You are mistaken," she answered, with a partial re- 
 turn of her former chilliness, "he never sent me any 
 flowers." 
 
 " Yes, the afternoon before he left." 
 
 " No, he did not — I was not at home on that day." 
 
 "Very good — still, he sent them by Carlos, and they 
 were returned the same evening, with that note." 
 
 There was no cause for doubting Mrs. Martin's sin- 
 cerity, and consequently amazement again dominated 
 the expression on Elma's face. 
 
 " Are you certain about this?" 
 
 " Yes. Listen, my dear, and I will tell you all about 
 it." Mrs. Martin's tone was becoming very motherly 
 and affectionate. " But first, let me ask j^ou a question. 
 Didn't Mr. Wyndship address you a short time before 
 he left?" 
 
 A wave of crimson covered the girl's face, and her 
 eyes grew bright with something like defiance, as she 
 looked the questioner proudly in the face. Most of girls 
 would have been, or pretended to be, indignant, or 
 would have hung their heads and attempted evasion, but 
 this one was too brave to do either. Even had she been 
 deceived, still her conscience told her that she had done 
 nothing to be ashamed of. 
 
 " He told me that he did," continued the lady, when 
 she saw that her question would not be answered, " and 
 he thought that you gave him encouragement, although 
 no verbal response. He made me his confidante from 
 the first." 
 
 "If he did, why do you ask me ? " 
 
 "Because I wish to be certain there was no misunder- 
 standing on his part." 
 
BELLEVIEW. 181 
 
 " There was nothing for hiin to misunderstand — if 
 any one was deceived, it was I." 
 
 " Very well, there has been a trick played on you 
 both, as that — that mean, contemptible forgery there 
 shows. Listen, and I will tell you all I know about it." 
 Commencing with her first conversation with Wyndship, 
 soon after the Christmas party, Mrs. Martin related 
 what passed between them then and afterwards : 
 all about the bouquet, of his eager assent to her sugges- 
 tion about sending it — all that Carlos told of its deliv- 
 ery to Leon Gachet — what Celia reported about its re- 
 turn — how he found it in his room when he went to get 
 ready to make his farewell call at Belleview — and dwell- 
 ing particularly on his misery and despair under the 
 double affliction. But the latter was unnecessary, for, 
 as she proceeded, surprise, sorrow, pain, and anguish 
 rapidly succeeded each other in Lima's countenance, and 
 by the time the narration was completed, her head was 
 bowed upon folded arms, resting on the table. 
 
 *' He was convinced that you sent back the flowers — 
 that you were flirting with him, although he would not 
 say so ; and — and I was almost convinced myself." 
 
 "Oh, how could you?" cried Lima, looking up, but 
 only for one brief instant. A shudder and a broken 
 sob warned Mrs. Martin that the girl desersxd no scold- 
 ing. Gently she passed her arm around the shaking 
 form, and tried to soothe and console instead. 
 
 " He went away thinking I wrote it," she sobbed at 
 length. " His love has turned to scorn and contempt, 
 and I — I loved him. Oh, Mrs. Martin, why didn't you 
 tell him better? You ought to have known I didn't 
 write it." 
 
 I — I was a fool," acknowledged the latter, contritely, 
 I was partly deceived myself. I know it is hard to 
 bear, my dear," she continued, after a moment's silence, 
 " but — but you must not despair — all wiU come right 
 yet." 
 
 " If he only knew the truth, I would not care so much, 
 but how he must hate and despise me." 
 
 '' Never mind, he sJiaU know the truth — ^I will see to 
 that — and when he learns what a trick has been played 
 on you both, he will come back, never fear. You must 
 not give up, all will come right yet — a just God will not 
 
 
182 AN EXPLANATION AND A COUNCIL OF WAR. 
 
 permit such wickedness to prosper. Besides, we have 
 another duty to perform." 
 
 Ehna raised her head, and her eyes fell on the paper, 
 now l3^ing on the floor. The sight immediately recalled 
 her self-possession. 
 
 "Yes," she cried, " there is one thing that I have got 
 to do, if possible, and that is, to find out the person who 
 wrote that — to discover its contemptible author — and 
 when I succeed, no matter who it may be, he or she 
 shall smart and burn as they never did before. Unless 
 they are perfectly destitute of all conscience, and of all 
 self-respect, I shall make them suffer for their cowardly 
 act." In all her life, p]lma Owens had never looked so 
 handsome as she did in her righteous anger and indigna- 
 tion, just then. " Won't 3-0U help me to discover the 
 guilty one, Mrs. Martin? " 
 
 " That I will, and gladly. I do not believe it will be 
 hard to do — circumstances already point him out." 
 
 ' ' Who is it ? who do you suspect ? " 
 
 ' ' Who was at Belleview that afternoon ? " 
 
 *' No one, that I am aware of — only Mr. Gachet, who 
 came home, I suppose, some time in the afternoon." 
 
 " Leon Gachet is the man." 
 
 " Oh, no, Mrs. Martin, that can't be possible." 
 
 *' Leon was the only person at home that afternoon ; 
 Carlos says he delivered the flowers to him — they were 
 returned before sunset — now, who else can it be ? " 
 
 Elma stared at the accuser for a moment as if as- 
 tounded, and then stooping down, picked up the note. 
 She smoothed the creases out carefully, and examined 
 it veiy closely before replying. 
 
 " Mr. Gachet does not write a good hand," she said, 
 when through with her scrutiny, " and I do not believe 
 he can imitate a lady's hand so perfectly. Who ever 
 wrote this, if not a woman, was certainly an adept with 
 the pen — much more skilful than I think he is ; besides, 
 with all his faults, I can't believe him capable of such 
 dishonesty. No, I think you must be mistaken." 
 
 "Isn't he in love with you, too?" 
 
 No answer was made to this question, and Mrs. Mar- 
 tin continued : " A man in the condition he was in — 
 crazy with both drink and jealousy — will commit most 
 any crime. All the circumstances point to him, and it 
 seems to me that there is only one link wanting in our 
 
feELLEVIEW. ' 18.^ 
 
 chain of evidence, and that is, the strange negro who 
 acted as his messenger. We must hunt him up, and 
 make him tell who gave him that note and the bou- 
 quet." 
 
 "How can we find him ? " 
 
 " Carlos can do that, I think — at least, I am going to 
 make him tr}^" 
 
 " Probably I can find out something among the ne- 
 groes at Belleview." 
 
 " I have thought of that, but it will be best for us to 
 keep our investigation a secret, and if you commence 
 making inquiries among the negroes there, it might come 
 to Leon's ears. No, you must let me send Carlos, he is 
 sharp and shrewd, and will be very apt to find out all 
 they know. Mr. Martin is going to start to Charleston 
 to-morrow, on business, and I want you to come and 
 stay with me while he is gone — Johnnie Hall will stay 
 with us at night — and with the assistance of Carlos, we 
 will turn detectives until the whole plot is unravelled. 
 Now don't stop to think up excuses, but say you will 
 come — I will want your company, anj^how." 
 
 Elma promised, and moreover, finding an opportunity 
 to send a message to Belleview, accounting for her ab- 
 sence, also spent the remainder of the day with her 
 hostess, laying plans for pushing their undertaking, and 
 in talking about the absent one. That is, most of the 
 day, as part of the afternoon was spent by the latter in 
 writing a letter, in which occupation Elma was very 
 much interested, and was very careful that she should 
 not be disturbed. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 LEON MAKES LOVE AND SO DOES CARLOS. 
 
 If Elma still wished for solitude during her ride home 
 that evening, she wns destined to be disappointed, for, 
 just as she was preparing to mount her horse at Mr. 
 Martin's gate, Leon rode up. That he had not come 
 sooner was a source of considerable satisfaction to the 
 lady of the house, as in her present frame of mind, his 
 presence in her home could hardly have been agreeable. 
 Still, she managed to politely return his salutation when 
 
184 LEON MAKES LOVE AND SO DOES CARLOS. 
 
 she accompanied her guest to the gate, probablj^ con- 
 soled by the thought that there was a very stout and tough 
 rod being seasoned for his particular benefit. 
 
 But Leon was in blissful ignorance of the plot against 
 his peace of mind, and while he had been doing some 
 thinking during the day, it was not about the probabil- 
 ity or possibility of there being any serious danger to 
 himself in the near future. To the contrar^^, he decided 
 that there was no necessity nor reason v>'hy the realiz- 
 ation of his happiness should be further postponed. 
 To hesitate any longer in demanding his prize would 
 onl}^ be the act of a coward, unworthy of one who was 
 such a worthy descendant of the Gachets, especially 
 when success seemed to be so m.uch a matter of course. 
 Notwithstanding such a consoling and egotistical esti- 
 mate of his merits, and of his chances, it was not with- 
 out some tremors • of fear, that, so soon as they had 
 passed the few scattering houses of Somerville, he com- 
 menced the story of his love. 
 
 He was listened to in a perfect silence, which con- 
 tinued after he had finished, and began begging for an 
 immediate answer. Silence was favorable, almost equal 
 to a yes, he knew ; still his exacting nature demanded 
 something more definite. His importunities, however, 
 brought no words, only a momentary glimpse of a proud, 
 exultant smile on the face, which, except for that in- 
 stant, was kept carefully averted ; but that glimpse was 
 enough to set his heart afire with joy. Could it be pos- 
 sible that his jealous fears all along had been utterly 
 without grounds — that all those little evasions had been 
 nothing but feminine coquetry — that this girl had only 
 been waiting for the offer, to accept his love with pride 
 and pleasure? His tremors were all gone, and his 
 equanimity was fully restored, as he begged that those 
 ' ' perfect lips " might give him a verbal confirmation of 
 his hopes. 
 
 AVomeu are ever wilful and illogical, however, and 
 when she did speak, his eloquence only elicited the dec- 
 laration that it was impossible to give him an answer 
 just then, and when he persisted, Elma ended the inter- 
 view most effectually by a sharp cut with her riding- 
 whip on the flanks of her horse, which sent him ahead 
 in a reckless gallop. This pace she kept until the gate 
 at Belleview was reached, and she was again under Xk^ 
 
BELLE VIEW. 185 
 
 protection of his step-mother's and sister's presence. 
 Contrive as he ma}^, no opportunity was given him dur- 
 ing the evening to renew his appeal ; in fact, as soon as 
 supper was over, she went up-stairs to her room, giving 
 as a reason, the necessity of writing a letter which 
 was due her friend, Mrs. Harris, of Macon. At last, 
 angry and impatient with what he considered as so much 
 unnecessary cojmess, he wrote her a note, sending it up 
 by Lina, insisting on an immediate answer, or else for 
 some token, some promise, that would relieve his har- 
 rowing suspense. 
 
 Promptly the answer came : 
 
 ** I am going to-morrow to spend a week with Mrs. Martin, 
 and when I return, you shall receive your answer." 
 
 With this he was forced to be content — or rather was 
 compelled to accept this despite his discontent — and 
 he went to bed cursing the senseless coquetry, the af- 
 fected hesitation, which kept back the ''yes" that he 
 felt almost assured must be her final answer. Still the 
 belief that this was only affectation did not lessen the 
 value of the prize in Leon's estimation, any more than 
 having to wait an interminable week added to the sweet- 
 ness of his temper. 
 
 ''D n it," he muttered, between his clenched 
 
 teeth; " why does she put me off in this way, when 
 she could not even hide how pleased and elated she felt 
 over my offer?" — the true cause of this pleasure he had 
 yet to find out. 
 
 " Well, Carlos, you understand your instructions, 
 now, and know what you are to do ? " 
 
 '' Yes'm, I know ; I'se got all yer tells me in he'er," 
 responded the mulatto, tapping his black, curly head. 
 
 '' Go to Colonel Gachet's quarter, and find out, if you 
 can, if any negro driving a wagon, stopped there, or 
 was seen passing by there, on the evening you carried 
 the bundle to Belleview for Mr. AYyndship." 
 
 ''Yes'm, I understand." 
 
 " You remember the evening ? They will remember 
 it at the quarter as the day Mrs. Gachet and the young 
 ladies went to Gay Hill." 
 
186 LEON MAKES LOVE AND SO DOES CARLOS. 
 
 " Yer needn't be af eared, Miss Ellen ; dis nigger got 
 some sense. He knows what ter do." 
 
 *'Very good. We are trusting you with an impor- 
 tant piece of business, and want it all kept perfectly 
 quiet — you must be very cautious, and not let anybody 
 suspect 3'our object." 
 
 "I'll keep 'em in the dark. Don't j^ou be af eared." 
 
 " I would write you a pass, but there have been no 
 ' patrolera' riding lately, and the distance is so short 
 you will be in no danger." 
 
 "Hi! no patterroler kin ketch dis nigger — he's too 
 sharp fer dat." 
 
 This conversation took place after supper, the first 
 night of Elma's stay with Mrs. Martin. The latter, still 
 eager to find the missing link in her chain of evidence, 
 could not delay their investigation any longer ; so Car- 
 los, whom she regarded as perfectly trustworthy, and 
 possessed of more than the average acuteness of his 
 race, was commissioned to visit the Gachet quarter, and 
 to prosecute secret inquiries among its inhabitants. 
 
 " I would not entrust this matter in your hands, Car- 
 los, if I did not have a great deal of confidence in j^our 
 sharpness, and in — your discretion." 
 
 Yf ith a low bow, and a grin of delight over the com- 
 pliment, the boy withdrew. 
 
 While this was going on, Elma was entertaining John- 
 nie Hall in the parlor, with music. Her rule over his 
 boyish heart was still as absolute as ever, as was evident 
 from the happy, adoring light in his eyes and face. 
 After two or three songs, she turned and said : " Well 
 Mr. Johnnie, how many young ladies have you killed 
 since Christmas, with that deadly little pistol of j^ours?" 
 
 "Now, Miss Elma," he stammered, "won't you — 
 won't you never quit throwing that up to me ? " 
 
 " You don't want to tell me, I see." 
 
 " I — I have never had it in my hands since that night, 
 and I have never wanted to sec it again." 
 
 " Ah, I am the only person you have a gradge against, 
 then?" 
 
 " Now, Miss Elma." 
 
 Elma's face began to redden slightly, and her voice 
 was losing its bantering tone. 
 
 " I am afraid you don't appreciate Mr. your pres- 
 ent very highly ? " 
 
BELLEYIEW. 'i><l 
 
 *' I didn't want it and I wouldn't have taken it, l.ut 
 Mr. Wyudship insisted so. I wish he had kept the 
 pistol, and given me something else — that is, if he want- 
 ed to make me a present." 
 
 '' How would you like to exchange it then — to — ^to 
 swap it, as you boys would say," she asked, with a mis- 
 erable attempt to appear indifferent, while the blushes 
 on her face were plainly discernible, even by lamp-light. 
 
 '' I don't know," he answered, in hesitating surprise. 
 
 "What will you take for it? A pony — a — a shot-gun 
 — some nice books, or — I want a pistol," she added, 
 desperately, running her fingers over the keys as if the 
 noise would hide her confusion. " How — how will you 
 trade?" 
 
 Johnnie was not a very dull boy, and without another 
 word he turned and left the rcom. This was the first 
 time that Elma had sang at all since Wyndship's depart- 
 ure and somehow the music touched her sensibility keenly, 
 bringing as it did very forcibly to her memory, associa- 
 tions of her short-lived love-dream, and of the cruel 
 trick that had ended it, possibly forever. One 
 or two pearly drops splashed on the ivory keys, refusing 
 to be kept back now that no one was present to criticise 
 their fall. They were not of a numerous family, and 
 were not prone to break out on the slightest provocation 
 like most of their kindred ; consequently, their appear- 
 ance now indicated that the soul which was their abiding 
 place, was bearing a grievous burden. The boy was not 
 gone long, and soon his returning footsteps warned them 
 that it was time the}'^ were fleeing away to their hiding- 
 place, and their mistress, the usefulness of a handker- 
 chief. He came back with a morocco pistol-case in his 
 hand, which he laid on the instrument by her side. 
 
 " Miss Elma, let me make you a present of this. "Will 
 you accept it? I know Mr. Wyndship would not object 
 or think hard of me for giving it to you.'' The awk- 
 ward bashfulness of the boy had entirely vanished, and 
 no polished gentleman of the world ever offered a gift 
 with a truer and more gallant grace. His reward came 
 quickly, in the shape of a grateful glance that he never 
 forgot. 
 
 '* Thank you, Johnnie," she answered, in the sweetest 
 of trembling voices, '' but you must let me make you a 
 present, also." 
 
1<S<S LEON MAKES LOVE AND SO DOES CARLOS. 
 
 Johnnie was equal to the emergency, as he answered 
 with his best bow : 
 
 '' Miss Elma Owen's picture is the only thing in all the 
 world that I desire." 
 
 Had he been a few j^ears older, Leon and ^Yyndship 
 both, could they have peeped through the door just at 
 this moment, might have found grounds for jealousy 
 elsewhere than between themselves. A younger rival 
 had taken the field, and by one stroke had won a very 
 warm place in their sweetheart's esteem. 
 
 When Johnnie asked his aunt for the pistol, he had to 
 give his reasons for wanting it, before she would comply 
 with his demand. 
 
 "Are you certain that she wants it?" she asked. 
 " Maybe she was only jesting." 
 
 " No, I think she was in earnest, Aunt Ellen — I'm 
 sure she was." 
 
 Mrs. Martin opened a drawer, and handed it out with- 
 out another word, but she had her thoughts nevertheless. 
 " What does this mean? " she ejaculated to herself when 
 he was gone. "• Can she want it for a keep sake? Well, 
 it will be a strange one indeed — a deadly weapon. The 
 superstitious would say that it was a bad omen — a sign 
 of death and misery. I must not intimate such a thing 
 to her though, for the poor child has trouble enough that 
 is real, without assuming others, that are purely imagin- 
 ary." Consequently, when she joined the other two in 
 the parlor, she made no allusion to the pistol, although 
 the case still lay on the piano in plain view. 
 
 Leaving this trio to their own devices for entertain- 
 ment, let us follow Carlos on his expedition in search of 
 the desired informatiouo The task he had on hand was 
 not a distasteful one, by any means, and he set out to 
 its accomplishment with a secret joy and pride. He 
 felt that he had been intrusted with an important mis- 
 sion — one requiring secrecy, shrewdness, and tact, and 
 consequently was a compliment of which he must not 
 prove unworthy. He was devoted to his mistress, by 
 whom he had been raised almost from the cradle, and 
 had lived ever since he could remember in and about 
 what his fellow-slaves called " de Buckra house," Hav- 
 ing always received good treatment at her hands, he 
 took pleasure in doing her a service ; particularly as 
 
BELLFVIEW. 189 
 
 that seiTice Tras out of the regular order, nnd promised 
 some spice of adventure — something that would beat a 
 possum hunt, and was almost equal to a '' corn shuck- 
 ing." He was not as ignorant about the whys andjwhere- 
 fores of this undertaking as might be supposed, for the 
 servants in the South were generally very well posted in 
 all that transpired in theii* owners' households. Their 
 master's family was their family — in fact, each little 
 community was a miniature kingdom, and as subjects, 
 they took a warm interest in all that concerned the royal 
 family. Its joys, griefs, and troubles were theirs, and 
 fui-nished the principal subject of the daily and nightly 
 consultations among themselves. Carlos, with his extra 
 opportunities for acquiring information, not only sus- 
 pected something wrong in the incident of the flowers, 
 but, by the aid of a little guessing, now knew almost as 
 much about it as his mistress. 
 
 On account of the uniform kindness and considera- 
 tion with which she always treated them, Elma was de- 
 servedly popular with all the blacks ; and notwithstand- 
 ing their predilection to look down with contempt on all 
 strange whites who did not own slaves, Carlos had taken 
 quite a fancy to ^Vyndship. Therefore, he was not 
 averse to doing them both a favor. Possibly, in addi- 
 tion to all these inducements, he thought it might give 
 him an opportunity to do a little love-making on his 
 own account, among the dusky beauties in Colonel 
 Gachet's quarter. 
 
 Avoiding the road, he followed a path that led out 
 through Mr. Martin's orchard, in the rear of his house, 
 to a skirt of timber. On the further side of these woods 
 he climbed over a fence into a field, and by the aid of 
 the moon, and his own thorough knowledge of the inter- 
 vening farm, worked his way around to the rear end of 
 the two rows of Gachet cabins without being observed. 
 Deliberating with himself awhile, he selected a cabin in 
 one of the rows, and watching his opportunity, he 
 slipped past the houses between, and safely reached the 
 rear of the one selected, whose shadow effectually hid 
 him from all passers-by. Now all this caution was un- 
 necessary, as, so far as he knew, he could have fol- 
 lowed the public highway to the Colonel's front gate, 
 passed across the lawn, around the dwelling, and have 
 walked boldly through the quarter from one end to the 
 
loo LEON IVIAKES LOVE AND SO DOES CARLOS. 
 
 other, without being molested. But to have proceeded 
 in this open, matter-of-fact vray, would have destroyed 
 half his zest in the enterprise. He was on secret busi- 
 ness, and must go at it in a secret way. Placing his 
 ear to a chink in the wall, he listened for a few minutes 
 to the desultory conversation going on within, but what 
 he heard did not seem satisfactory, for he soon desisted, 
 and commenced examining the adjacent habitations, as if 
 to select another for the same operations. AVhile thus 
 employed, a girl with a bucket came out of one further 
 up the row, and passed down a path near him. 
 
 ''Dat's Cynthy," he muttered to himself, after watch- 
 ing her pass. " She's er goin' to de well arter water. 
 Her sister's been sick, en' maybe she been stayin* 
 about de house to wait on her — anyhow, I mout as well 
 try her, as not." 
 
 Cautiously following, he reached the well just as she 
 commenced turning the windlass in drawing up the wa- 
 ter. The easing of the weight, caused by his pulling 
 on the rope, was the first intimation she had of his pres- 
 ence. 
 
 '' Who dat? " she cried, stopping short with the turn- 
 ing. 
 
 *' Unly a gem'man. Miss Cynthy, who wishes de 
 'maculate pleasyer of 'sisting yer to haul up di« yere 
 bucket." 
 
 "Dat you, Carlos?" 
 
 ' ' Dat's de name yer humbl' 'mirer has ter 'ply to 
 when de white folks want him." 
 
 " Wat yer doing yere ? " 
 
 " 'Sistin' de lubl'est gal on dis yere hill, in haul- 
 ing up dis bucket — when yer gits ready to perceed." 
 
 "Hi, nigger, yer's pow'ful smart wid yer tongue 
 ter-night — swal'er'd a big lot er sof soap, ain't yer?" 
 Notwithstanding the sarcasm, Cynthia's white teeth 
 gleamed in the moonshine with pleasure, at the compli- 
 ments, with which Carlos was smoothing his way. 
 
 " De lubly face ub Miss Cynthy wud s'lubercate de 
 tongue ub er — er brass owel," persisted the boy, im- 
 pressively. " Yer shudn't be so 'witchin', ef yer don't 
 want ter he'er sich talk." 
 
 With a pleased giggle, the girl resumed her turning of 
 the windlass, until the water was safely brought to the 
 surface, and transferred to her bucket. 
 
N - BELLEVIEW. 191 
 
 " 'Low me," he said, with a gallant bow, anticipating 
 her motion to take up the latter. 
 
 '•AY' at 3'er doin' he'er, enyhow, Carlos?" she asked, 
 as together they started back up the path towards the 
 cabin. Evidently, she did not yet feel assured that she 
 was the object of his visit. 
 
 "Dat's er nice quesshun ter ax yer 'voted 'mirer, 
 when he cum ter see yer." 
 
 " I 'spects yer come ter see some oder gal." 
 
 " Now, Miss Cynthy, yer shouldn't 'cuse me ub dat, 
 when yer knows yer's de id'l ub my heart." 
 
 *' Ain't yer 'roun' he'er T>'aitin' fur Minty ter cum furm 
 de Buckra house ? " she asked, still not satisfied. 
 
 Now Carlos, j^oung as he was, had already gained the 
 reputation of being somewhat of a gallant among the 
 young darkies in the neighborhood, and as he had hith- 
 erto paid Cj^nthia no particular attention, she had just 
 grounds for the suspicion expressed. One of his latest 
 flames had been jNIinty, one of the house girls at Belle- 
 view ; consequently, it became very necessary to over- 
 come this impression, and to convince his companion 
 that she had no cause for jealousy. With this object in 
 view, he hastened to explain that he was "tired ub de 
 'siety of dese he'er stack-up gals, w'at lies 'round de 
 house, doin' nuffin, en' wants ter win de 'fectshuns of 
 some liibin' sweetheart, wat's not 'feard of work, or 
 finks herse'f too good ter toil in de heat ub de day." 
 
 " Umph," she indignantly retorted, "yer's badly 
 fooled, nigger, if yer tinks I'se ony co'nfiel' darkey. I 
 stays 'bout de house, now, I does, and waits on Mely." 
 
 lie had evidently started off on the wrong tack, but 
 Carlos was too much of a diplomat to allow so insignifi- 
 cant an error to balk his plans ; so he earnestly protested 
 that he did not intend to ascribe her to that humble and 
 lowly class — only meaning that she was not " one 
 of dese he'er hi'falutin', stuck-up gals, w'at finks dem- 
 selves too good to iub an hones' nigger ; " and so suc- 
 cessful was he in the use of his tongue, that by the time 
 th^'y reached Mely's cabin, he had made a pretty fair be- 
 ginning towards the conquest of her heart. 
 
 " Come out," he whispered, as he relinquished the 
 handle of the bucket at the door; "I wants ter 'varse 
 some more wid my lubly one by de light ub de moon. 
 I'll wait fer yer 'round de corner." 
 
192 LEON aiAKES LOVE AND SO DOES CARLOS. 
 
 Thanks to the effects of his taffy, he did not havp to 
 wait long before she rejoined him ; and together they 
 sought the shadow of the shade trees near by. While 
 spreading himself in dead earnest to conquer her heart, 
 he did not forget the object of his visit, but interspersed 
 his gallantry and love-making with leading questions 
 that might tend to bring out the desired information. 
 
 *' How long hes de 'ngelic Miss Cjmthy been 'gaged 
 in 'meleratin' de sufferin's ub herde'er sister?" 
 
 " Two or tree week, Mr. Carlos — eber since she been 
 sick." 
 
 "'N'no doubt, her 'fectionit heart 'joys habin' de 
 prib'lige ub remin'sterin' ter de pains w'at company de 
 mort'l herbilerments ? " 
 
 " I lubs ter wait on de sick, 'n' de subbrin'," she ad- 
 mitted, with a telling sigh. 
 
 " I know'd it — I know'd her gentl' bosom were ober- 
 flowin' wid de milk ub human kindness." 
 
 *' I dunno w'at Mely wud er done wit'out me ; I 'est 
 knows dat my nursin' sabed her life. Missus ses she 
 dunno I were so handy ; 'n' she ses if ]Minty don't do 
 better'n she been doin', she gwinetek me inde house, 'n' 
 sen' her ter de fiel'." This was said in as near a sister- 
 of -mercy- tone, as the self -congratulation, and the malice 
 towards Minty, v\^ould admit. 
 
 " 'N' I wonder w'y she neber done dat afore now?" 
 ''I spects she will in de spring." 
 
 " So yer's been 'bout de house dis two or tree week? 
 Dat splains sometin' dat I seed 'bout two weeks ergo — 
 sometin' I been stud'in' ober eber since." 
 "W'at dat?" 
 
 *' 'Pears ter me dat I seed er wagin er standin' out 
 dar in de lane by itse'f , 'n' I 'est low'd dat dat dar nig- 
 ger Jim ub Massa Harley, wer er stealin' er visit ter 
 one ub de gals on dis yere hill." Carlos had never seen 
 anything of the kind, but he felt that it was necessary 
 for his purpose to assume that he had. 
 '* Hi ! who you tink he come ter see ? " 
 " De lubles' gal in all de country, 'n' dat girl ain't er 
 standin' er far ways off dis minit." 
 
 ** I spects I kin lay my han' on dat girl right now," 
 he continued, insinuatingly, catching hold of the hand, 
 one good size larger than his own, with which she play- 
 fully motioned to push him off, 
 
"^ BELLEVIEW. , -.• . ^^'5 
 
 ** Umph, <^o way, boy ; dat black nigger Jim know bet- 
 ter dan ter cum 'round dis gal. He git sent bout he 
 business mi'ty fast," 
 
 '' Dem der seberations mak's dishe'er boy de happ'est 
 yaller nigger in all de state er Georgy," exclaimed Car- 
 los, bowing low over the hand he was squeezing. 
 
 Cynthy was conquered. Her coquetry could not re- 
 sist such heroic love-making, and in order to remove 
 any feelings of distrust that might yet linger in her lov- 
 er's mind, she hastened to explain : 
 
 "I spects dat wagin yer seed wer Major Dismuke's. 
 He's man, Unkl' Lum, who yer know are de daddy ub 
 Mely's husban', wer er carr'in' some hog meat frum de 
 plantation ter de Buckra house, 'n' he lef it standin' out 
 dar in de lane er minit, while he come een ter see how 
 Mely was er gettin' 'long." 
 
 " Wat day was dat, my 'ngelic one? " 
 
 " Dat was er — dat was soon arter Mely were tak'n 
 sick — let's see — hi, I knows w'at day it were, now, case 
 de white folks was all gone off dat day in de kerrige, er 
 visit in' ." 
 
 Carlos's heart gave a big jump up into his throat, and 
 his manner lost some of its assumed gallantry, as he 
 asked eagerly : 
 
 " 'N' warn't none ub 'em at home ? " 
 
 •' We tought dey was all gone, 'n' told Uncle Lum 
 dey was, but when he start back, 'n' got up close ter de 
 big house, Mas' Leon came out de back do', 'n' call him. 
 I spects Uncle Lum were mighty skeard." 
 
 " What Massa Leon do? " 
 
 " He call Uncle Lum ter come dere, 'n' den he went 
 back in de big house, 'n' 'rectly he came out wid er bun- 
 dl' done up in dis he'er big paper, what de buckra folks 
 read, 'n' give um ter Uncle Lum. I couldn't he'er what 
 he sav, but Uncle Lum took it off in he wag'n. I aims 
 ter— ^" 
 
 She was not allowed to explain what she intended to 
 do, for Carlos, in his exuberant joy over the success of 
 his mission, so easily accomplished, threw one arm 
 around her neck, and undertook to give expression to 
 his feelings by a sounding smack on the ebony lips. In 
 the struggle that ensued — she wishing to enhance the 
 value of the favor by just so much opposition as would 
 increase his efforts without finally preventing his sue- 
 
194 LEON MAKES LOVE — AND SO DOES CARLOS. 
 
 cess — neither of them perceived that a spectator had 
 arrived, and was watching the performancCo This per- 
 son did not make her presence known until Carlos finally 
 managed to place the kiss, which was not a silent one 
 by any means, on the spot he desired it to occupy. Then 
 their little tableau of love was ruthlessly interrupted. 
 
 " Hi, who dat — w'at yer doin' de'er? Dat you, Cyn- 
 thy, lettin' dat nasty nigger er kissin' yer in de dark? 
 Ain't yer 'shame? I'se g'wine ter tell." 
 
 To his horror and dismay, Carlos saw that the unbid- 
 den spectator was no one else than his other flame, 
 Minty. To have been caught by any one, under these 
 circumstances, was embarrassing enough, but by this 
 girl, was simply dreadful. To her he had been swear- 
 ing eternal love and devotion in the most ardent style, 
 for months ; and the unlucky chance that brought her 
 there, just in time to witness his infidelity with her own 
 eyes, was simply too great a strain on his self-posses- 
 sion. This was one of the few times in his life when his 
 tongue failed to come promptly to his rescue ; so, re- 
 leasing his companion, he fell back, too much confused 
 to utter a w^ord. This, however, was not the case with 
 Cynthy, whose modesty was backed up and supported by 
 the consciousness of haviug won a victory over a scorn- 
 ful rival, towards whom she had been feeling a strong, 
 though secret animosity. Carlos would have preferred 
 any other spectator, while she rejoiced that it turned out 
 to be Minty. 
 
 '' You shet up, and tend ter yer own bizness — yers 
 jist er wishin' it wer you." 
 
 Hot words and abusive epithets followed in quick suc- 
 cession from both parties, and before Carlos had recov- 
 ered his wits sufficiently to interfere, a blow was given, 
 and the two rivals hitched in dead earnest. In vain he 
 capered around, begging them to " stop dat racket," 
 and " fur de good Lawd's sake, quit dair blamed fool- 
 ishness ;" their anger and jealousy had become fully 
 aroused, and his presence and efforts only added fuel to 
 the flames. Like two knights of " ye olden time," 
 fighting for the favor of some fair lady (only this time 
 the sexes were reversed) these two dusky amazons "went 
 at it tooth and toe nail ;" and discarding all weapons 
 save those that nature had given them, for the next min- 
 ute or two they made the fur fly in regular wild-cat 
 
BELLEVIE^r* 195 
 
 style. Cjmthy's past acquaintance with the hoe-handle 
 and cotton-basket, which she had so scornfully repudi- 
 ated only a short time before, now proved to have been 
 of valuable service, rendering her more than a match 
 for her more effeminate sister ; who, finding herself 
 worsted in the fight, raised a howl, which soon brought 
 quite a crowd of young darkies to the spot. 
 • " Ycr yaller-hided hussy, I kin jist whip de lites out 
 er yer de bes' day ye eber seed," cried Cynthy, shaking 
 her solid-looking fist in the face of her vanquished rival. 
 " Jist bat er eye, 'n' I'll mash yer punkin-cullud face 
 til yer own mammy won't know 3'er." 
 
 But Minty did not accept this challenge. She had 
 had enough, and felt the expediency of selecting some 
 other object on which to vent her spite and mortification. 
 Naturally, that other object was Carlos — he had proven 
 a double-dyed traitor. Not only had he been false to 
 his vows, but he had also inflicted a great indignity on 
 her, personall}^ by giving her, as a rival, one whom she 
 considered far below her in social status. In addition 
 to this, in the late conflict, he failed to render her the 
 assistance she expected, and to which she felt that she 
 was entitled ; consequently, he was the victim she se- 
 lected. 
 
 " AY'at's all dis he'er cuttin' up erbout? " inquired an 
 athletic young negro, about grown, from the crowd. 
 
 " Why, dis he'er nasfy, low-down nigger ub de Mar- 
 tins,' 's been 'sultin me, and er — and er Cynthy tuk he's 
 part," she answered, edging nearer the last speaker, and 
 further away from Cynthy's dangerous-looking fist. 
 This new boy, she knew, was one of her ardent admir- 
 ers, and consequently did not regard Carlos with a very 
 friendly eye. Here was an able champion who would 
 gladly undertake to redress her wrongs. 
 
 *' Wat he do?" 
 
 " He er — he er — he er tried ter hug 'n' kiss me in de 
 dark," she cried, her rage and thirst for revenge making 
 her capable of any falsehood that might produce the de- 
 sired result, regardless of what might be the after con- 
 sequences. 
 
 " Dat's er lie," cried Cynthy; but her words were 
 drowned by the exclamations of disapproval from the 
 crowd. 
 
 " Well, I'se de man w'at kin k'rect de low-lived 
 
196 CARLOS AND THE PATROLERS. 
 
 skunk. Wat yer mean, yer yaller pole-cat, er comin* 
 onter clis be'er hill, er 'sultin' one ub ower ladies?" 
 
 " Yer le'me 'loue, and min' yer own bizness," an- 
 swered Carlos, with spirit, considering his undesu'able 
 position. 
 
 ''Hi ! dat de way yer talk, eh? Yer 
 
 , I'll soon mak' yer sing er nudder tune. 
 
 Git 'roun' 'im, dar, you fellars, so he can't run, 'n' jist 
 watch me skin 'im erlive." 
 
 But Carlos did not wait for the skinning, nor for the 
 effect of Cynthy's expostulations in his behalf. He saw 
 that the Belleview Quarter was no place for him just 
 then, if he wanted to remain healthy, so, slipping past 
 their outstretched hands, he took to his heels, with the 
 crowd in noisy pursuit. Their "ketch 'im — ketch.de 
 yaller dog," added wings to his feet, and he soon proved, 
 that when the occasion demanded it, he was as expert 
 at running as he was at love-making. In order to more 
 quickly rid himself of his pursuers, he took the shortest 
 cut, by the house lot, and across the lawn, to the pub- 
 lic road ; and such good use did he make of his legs, 
 that by the time he neared the highway he had managed 
 to leave them several yards in the rear. 
 
 His adventures for the night, however, were not over, 
 as he soon found to his sorrow and dismay. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 CARLOS AND THE PATROLERS. 
 
 Panting from the exertion of his race, Carlos 
 jumped over the fence that divided the lawn from the 
 road, congratulating himself on having so safely escaped 
 the threatened flagellation ; but scarcely had his feet 
 touched the ground, when his ears were greeted with the 
 command: " Stop— halt," from several voices. One 
 glance was sufficient to show him the terrible truth, 
 that he had fallen into the hands of the dreaded '<• pat- 
 terolers." To nm again was entirely out of the ques- 
 tion, for in his blown condition he could not hope to 
 compete with the swiftness of their horses ; besides, 
 they were already surrounding him on all sides. If he 
 
BELLEVIEW. 197 
 
 escaped a ^^hipping this time, it must be through the 
 means of his ready wit and tongue, and not by the 
 agency of his heels. 
 
 " Who is this? " demanded the one who appeared to 
 be the leader. 
 
 ''It's ownly me, Massa." 
 
 " The hell it is. Whose me — what's your name? " 
 
 By this time Carlos had recognized two or three of 
 the party, and saw it would not do to represent himself 
 as belonging to Colonel Cachet, which had been his 
 first idea. So, placing as good a face on the matter as 
 possible, he answered, with an assumption of candor : 
 
 " Carlos, sir. I b'longs to Mr. Martin." 
 
 ''Ah, I thought I knew you. Well, what are you 
 doing here ? " 
 
 "Jist been to de Colonel's quarter, sir, on some 
 
 biz ," he started to say on some business for his 
 
 mistress, but remembered her injunction of secrecy in 
 time to check himself ; " ter see some uv his darkies," 
 he substituted. 
 
 " Ah ha ! running around at night, eh? " 
 
 " Don't have much to do in the day-time, and makes 
 it up by romping all over the country at night," inter- 
 rupted another. 
 
 " Yes — he's one of old man Martin's pets," spoke 
 up a third, " and never, in all his life, knew what a 
 good whippin* was." 
 
 " He jist orter b'long to me," said the fourth, who, 
 t>y the way, never owned a slave. " Yer can jist bet 
 yer bottom dollar, boys, he'd mi'ty soon fin' out what er 
 good larrup in' were." 
 
 Carlos shuddered from head to foot, as he recognized 
 the speaker as being one of the despised and hated 
 " po' buckra." " When I got thru er workin' o' him, 
 he'd be so all-fired tired at night, he couldn't run no- 
 whars," continued the same speaker, who was known as 
 " Old Man Wicker." 
 
 " Mr. Martin is not at home — gone on a trip to 
 Charlestown — and this boy is taking advantage of his 
 absence to visit other plantations, where the niggers 
 don't have such an easy time, making them dissatisfied 
 with their own lot. I think he's a good subject for our 
 hickories." 
 
198 CARLOS AXt) THE PATHOLERS. 
 
 "Oh! please, sii, don't — don't whip me dis thue. 
 Missus — missus sod I might go." 
 
 "Well, if 3^ou have got a pass," said the leader, 
 ' ' why don't j^ou hand it out ? You know we won't whip 
 you, if 3'ou've got one." 
 
 " Han' out yer pass, nigger," again interposed 
 Wicker. " What yer standin' dere a tremblin' like yer 
 got a buck ager for, if j^er got a pass ? " 
 
 "I — I ain't got er pass," stammered the boy. " She 
 sed I wouldn't need it." 
 
 " Too thin, my boy — that tale won't do." 
 
 " Nary time will it, yer lyin', yaller coon. Der ye 
 see eny green thar?" queried the poor buckra, pulling 
 down one corner of his eye-lid, unmindful of the fact 
 that the moon was furnishing the only light. This pro- 
 duced a laugh all around, with " Hurrah for you, old 
 man," from one or two. 
 
 " I 'clare, 'pon my soul, Massa Smith, I'se tellin' yer 
 de truf," pleaded Carlos, desperately. Already, in im- 
 agination, he could feel the tough hickory sprouts beat- 
 ing a tattoo over his shoulders. 
 
 "That won't do, Carlos," answered Smith. "I'm 
 sorry for you, but you know well enough that you have 
 no business away from home after dark without a pass. 
 If your mistress was willing for you to go, she could 
 very easily have written j^ou one." 
 
 " Oh, sir, ef yer'll jist go home wid me — it ain't but 
 er short piece — she'll tell yer so herse'f." 
 
 " Look he'er, yer d d nigger, what j^er givin' us? 
 
 Yer know j^er can beg off from her, but I tells yer what, 
 boss fly, yer's struck de wrong crowd fur once. Boys, 
 I wants de job of k'recttin' dis feller," and Wicker 
 climbed down from his horse, rubbing his hands with 
 anticipated enjoyment. Whipping a negro was a lux- 
 ury that did not often fall to his share, and conse- 
 quently was enjoyed in proportion. " Jist le' me dress 
 'im down once 'n' I'll bet he won't be kotched away 
 from home in er hurry." 
 
 " Oh ! Massa Smith, don't le' me be whip't. I's tel- 
 lin' yer de truf — 'fo' God, I is. Oh ! please — please 
 don't — for de Lud a Massy sakes, le' me go dis time." 
 
 To this appeal, Mr. Smith slowly shook his head. 
 
 " I'm sorry, Carlos, but there would be no use in our 
 taking the trouble of riding over the neighborhood at 
 
BELLEVIEW, 199 
 
 night, if we did not punish those we caught away from 
 home without a pass." 
 
 The person was right who said that Carlos did not 
 know what a good whipping was, but this ignorance did 
 not prevent him from growing desperate now, when he 
 thouglit of what Avas in store for his back at the hands 
 of the hated " poor buckra." He glanced nervously 
 around for some avenue of escape, but his captors had 
 him too completel}^ surrounded for any chance in that 
 direction. Having quickly run over the probabilities in 
 his mind, in despair he turned again to the leader. 
 
 " Massa Smith, if I'se got to be whip't, please, sir, 
 do it yerse'f," and adding in a low tone, " You'se got 
 niggers, 'n' hes some feelin' fer 'em, but dat ole po' 
 buckra will jist mi'ty nigh kill me." 
 
 "I don't want the job, Carlos, but I reckon as j^ou 
 ask it, I'll have to grant your request," said Smith, get- 
 ting down off his horse. He had made up his mind 
 that the chastisement should be moderate, andknev/ that 
 it would not do to let Wicker be master of ceremonies. 
 " I reckon, Wicker, that I had better officiate this time. 
 Draw your jacket, Carlos." 
 
 Grumbling out something about his proficiency in the 
 art of " krecttin' niggers," Wicker reluctantly surren- 
 dered the bunch of hickory sprouts. He was evidently 
 deeply chagrined that the cup of pleasure should be 
 snatched from his lips just as he was about to regale 
 himself with its contents ; still, the next greatest treat 
 to " whippin' er nigger" himself, was standing by and 
 seeing it done by another. So his prospect for amuse- 
 ment was not entirely obliterated, only circumscribed in 
 extent. 
 
 Selecting one of the smallest — which itself looked 
 quite formidable in the eyes of the trembling victim — 
 from the bundle. Smith handed the others to one of his 
 assistants, and squaring himself in line, he raised his 
 implement of torture, preparatory to beginning the pun- 
 ishment, but before the first lick was given, his attention 
 was attracted by the soft fall of a horse's footstep on 
 the sandy road as another person rode up. 
 
 "Hello ! What's up? " called out the newcomer. 
 
 "Is that you. Doctor?" 
 
 " Yes. What's the matter — what are you doing?" 
 
200 CARLOS AND THE PATROLET??. 
 
 " \re are about to whip a boy we have canght away 
 from home without a pass." 
 
 "Whose boy is he?" 
 
 " He belongs to Mvc Martin — Carlos is his name." 
 
 ''Why, Carlos, how is this — how came you into such 
 a scrape ? " 
 
 Dr. Hurst's well known voice brought a revival of 
 hope to the despairing bo3^ Almost unconscious of the 
 movement, he edged nearer, exclaiming vehemently : 
 
 " Oh, Massa Doctor, save me — fer de good awd a 
 massy sake, keep 'em from whippin' de poor boy, 'n' I'll 
 never forgit it, de longes' day 1 live." 
 
 *' What are you doing out here without a pass?" asked 
 the doctor, sternly, but not unkindh\ " It doesn't look 
 well for you to be running about at night, especially 
 now, when your master is away from home." 
 
 " Miss Ellen — Missus knows it. She told me — she 
 told me I could go." Even in his direst extremity, the 
 poor boy was still faithful to his mistress's injunction, 
 and would not even sa}^ that she sent him. " Gen'- 
 men, I'se tellin' you de truf — I swear to God, I is ; 'n' 
 if 3^er don't b'lieve me, jist take me home, 'n' ef she 
 don't say so herse'f , yer may wear eb'ry one ub dem 
 switches to er fruzzl' on my naked back." 
 
 " He persists in saying that he has his mistress' per- 
 mission to go to the Colonel's quarter, but it is strange 
 that she did not give him a pass," explained Mr. 
 Smith. 
 
 ''Maybe she didn't know th.:\t you patiolers had com- 
 menced riding again." 
 
 " Notices to that effect have been posted for the last 
 week." 
 
 "Yes, but it is not likely that she has seen, or no- 
 ticed any of them, and Squire ^Martin may have forgotten 
 to mention it before he left. She may have thought that 
 as the distance was short he would not need a pass." 
 
 " TJiere migiit be something in that," assented Smith, 
 "but he was acting rather ^suspiciously when we caught 
 him." 
 
 "How was that?" 
 
 '' Why, he came tearing across the Colonel's lawn, 
 tiiere, as if the very old scratch was after him." 
 
 " What were you doing, Carlos?" the doctor asked 
 
BELLE VIEW. 201 
 
 of the boy, who, by this time, had edged to his side, 
 and was holding fast to his stirrup. 
 
 " I wus— I " 
 
 " Speak out — the best way is to tell the truth.'* 
 
 " I wus er running from some ub de Gachet nigger 
 boys — dey was wantin' to whip me." 
 
 '' AVhat did they want to whip j^ou about?" 
 
 Carlos hesitated, twisting his fingers together, and 
 shrugging his shoulders, either from embarrassment, or 
 through fear of the switch in Smith's hands, and from 
 which his eyes never wandered long at a time. 
 
 '' Out with it, my boy," urged the doctor, kindly. 
 " Tell the truth, and it will be better for you in the 
 end." 
 
 " I — I kis't one ob de Gachet nigger gals," he at 
 length blurted out desperately, ''and dey — dey kicked 
 up er rumpus 'bout it." 
 
 A roar of laughter greeted this confession — all the 
 crowd joining in except Wicker, who was too much dis- 
 gusted with the delay in producing the masterpiece of 
 the evening's performance, to find any amusement in 
 what he regarded as an irrelevant and unnecessary by. 
 play. '' Wat's de yuse in axin' sich questions?" he 
 muttered to himself, " we'se kotched the nigger V mout 
 as well finish up de job." 
 
 After putting a few more questions to the boy, con- 
 cerning his unfortunate piece of gallantry, the answers 
 to which tended to increase the party's merriment. 
 Dr. Hurst turned again to Smith. 
 
 '' I expect he is telling the truth. Carlos has always 
 seemed to me to be a good boy, and, if you are willing, 
 I will take him home and explain the matter to Mrs. 
 Martin, as I am going by there. If he is telling a lie, 
 no doubt Mr. Martin will punish him when he gets 
 back." 
 
 '' Tm willing," readily assented the leader. 'What 
 say you, boys ?" 
 
 The laugh had put the patrolers— with the exception 
 of "W icker— in a good humor, and the chorus of "all 
 right" was unbroken, except by his grumbling dissent. 
 
 " I don't see no yuse in gwine a patterrollin' ," he 
 muttered, as he climbed into his saddle to follow his 
 companions, " if yer don't whip der niggers ye ketch. 
 1 can't see what makes some folks so d~ squamish 
 
202 CARLOS AND THE PATBOLERS, 
 
 'bout 'krecttin' de critters, nohowo De Doct. thar, is 
 mi'ty nigh es bad es 'n' out 'n' out black Hepublicau." 
 His discontent, however, did not affect the result, and 
 he was forced to be content with hope of better luck 
 next timco It was a fortunate fact, he thought, that 
 Dr. Hurst could not follow them in their rounds. If he 
 did, they " moutas well go home." 
 
 " I will not disturb j^our mistress to-night, but will see 
 her to-morrow, maybe," said the Doctor, when he and 
 his charge reached Mr. Martin's gate. The eager and 
 confident manner in which the boy had clung to his 
 side during the short distance, tended to confirm his be- 
 lief in the truth of his story, and he did not consider 
 the matter of doubt sufficiently strong to demand an im- 
 mediate investigation. 
 
 '* Take warning by to-night's experience," he added, 
 as he rode away, interrupting the boy's profuse thanks, 
 ''and don't let the patrolers catch you out at night 
 again without a pass ;" advice AYhich, in his heart, Car- 
 los determined henceforth to strictly follow. 
 
 The latter did not seek the presence of his mistress 
 that night — he was too much crtstf alien with the out- 
 come of his night's adventures. His proud boast, that 
 " No patterrollers kin ketch dis nigger," had been too 
 overwhelmingly refuted for him to feel like making his 
 report until a night's rest had in somewise restored his 
 equanimity. It was true that he had accomplished his 
 mission, securing the information she desired without, 
 in the least, betraying his object ; but while doing so, 
 his self-love had received quite a mortifying check, as 
 well as his feelings being lacerated by a most harrowing 
 fright. In addition to all this, by an act of exuberant 
 folly, he had brought on a combat between two of his 
 dusky flames, thereby cutting short his social visits to 
 the Gachet quarter ; and moreover, as he thought, had 
 forever ruined his chances with the particular one 
 whose heart and good opinion he had been for some time 
 sedulously trying to win. Therefore, in the face of aU 
 these disheartening results, it was no wonder that he 
 should feel the need of some hours of reposing slum- 
 ber before recounting his tale. Consequently, avoiding' 
 that part of the house whose lighted windows denoteo 
 that Mrs. Martin and Elma were still awake, he crepi^ 
 round to his bed in the kitchen, anathematizing hi» 
 
BELLEVIEW. ' 203 
 
 Inck, his belligerent sweethearts, and officious rival; the 
 patrolers, and the old business. 
 
 So effectual were the ministrations of Morpheus, in 
 calming and reassuring his spirits, that next morning, 
 in making his report, he was enabled to suppress that part 
 of his adventures least credible to his fidelity in love 
 matters. To the rest of his story he appended so many 
 additions and embellishments as to excite in his mistress, 
 first, an exhibition of mirth over a ludicrous scene in 
 the quarter, the better part of which was imaginary ; 
 secondl}^, almost a tear of pity and regret over his 
 cruel position in the hands of the patrolers, whose 
 threats and proceedings, particularly those of " De poor 
 buckra," were highly embellished, and thirdl}^, a feeling 
 of the greatest gratitude towards Dr. Hurst, for saving 
 her favorite servant from the effects of her own care- 
 lessness. 
 
 " You are a smart boy, Carlos. I am well pleased 
 with the successful manner in T\hich j^ou executed your 
 mission, and the first opportunity I have, I shall thank 
 Dr. Hurst for his interference in your behalf. The next 
 time I send you out that way, I will be certain to write 
 you a pass, so that you'll run no danger of a whip- 
 ping." 
 
 So Carlos, grinning with satisfaction at these words 
 of commendation, retired, consoling himself with the 
 thought, that if Minty refused to be pacified, there were 
 still plenty of good fish in the sea, and, with his dexter- 
 ity as a fisherman, her place could be easily supplied ; 
 while Mrs. Mailin hastened to impart to Elma the in- 
 formation he had procured. 
 
 " Now, what do you think of that? " she exclaimed in 
 triumph, when through. 
 
 The other still doubtingly shook her head. 
 
 "It is hard for me to believe that Leon Gachet 
 would do such a thing — it is not consistent with his 
 character." 
 
 The good lady was worried » The e^ndence seemed so 
 plain and conclusive to her mind, that she could not see 
 how one, who was more directly interested thfin herself, 
 even, in fixing the crime where it belonged, should still 
 doubt his guilt. 
 
 " It all seems as plain to me as the nose on your face," 
 she answered, impatiently. 
 
204 LEON RECEIVES HIS ANSWER. 
 
 *' I know the circumstances all point to him, but there 
 must be some mistake — I can't believe he wrote that 
 forged note." 
 
 ''Well, we'll see what Major Dismuke*s Lum has to 
 say about it. I will find some excuse to send Carlos 
 down to the Major's river plantation at once. To sat- 
 isfy 3^ou, I will try to get him out here, where you can 
 hear what he has to say himself. Maybe he has rice, 
 or goobers, or something of the kind he would like to 
 sell — Carlos can get up some excuse to bring him here 
 to-morrow, or Sunday." 
 
 " No, I would rather you didn't — it is not necessary 
 to go to all that trouble." 
 
 " You wish to drop the matter as it is, then?" Mrs. 
 Martin inquired, with surprise, disappointment, and in- 
 dignation, all three expressed in her voice and face. 
 
 " No. I shall not let it drop here — I shall find out 
 the truth in a different way." 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 LEON RECEIVES HIS ANSWER. 
 
 Mr. Martin finished up his business in Charleston, 
 and returned home on the appointed day. On the same 
 afternoon Johnnie had the pleasure of driving Elma out 
 to Belleview, where she no sooner arrived than she has- 
 tened up-stairs, as if to avoid Leon's adoring glances. 
 The latter made no attempt to hide from his step-mother 
 and sister the satisfaction which the event gave him ; 
 and why should he ? he thought, when they were both 
 fully apprised of his intention to make Elma his wife. 
 This night she should give him the promised answer, 
 which his egotism, notwithstanding some moments of 
 doubt and uneasiness, assured him would be "yes;" 
 and then, as a matter of course, they must know of the 
 engagement. 
 
 When bidding adieu to Johnnie at the gate, Elma had 
 added': " Remember, now, bright and early in the morn- 
 ing," and no sooner did Mollie join her in the room they 
 had always occupied together, than she announced her 
 intention of making a visit to Mrs. Harris in Macon. 
 
BELLEVIEW. 205 
 
 " "Won't yon go with me ? " she asked. "I have writ- 
 ten her that 1 would come to-morrow, and that probably 
 you would accompany me." 
 
 '' Isn't this a rather sudden trip, Elma? '* 
 " You know I intended going this — sometime soon." 
 " Yes — in the sprhig, but not so soon as this. When 
 did you change 3^0 ur mind ? " 
 
 '* Now will suit me better than later," she answered, 
 
 evasivel3^ ' ' Now get ready, like a good girl, and go 
 
 along with me to-morrow." ; 
 
 " Oh, I am not ready — besides, I can't leave mother 
 
 until father comes home. Wait until then, and I will 
 
 go-" 
 
 Elma declined to postpone the trip ; neither did she 
 press her friend to change her decision, but clasping one 
 of Mollie's hands in both her own, gazed long and 
 thoughtfully out of the window. At length, pressing 
 the hand she had imprisoned with unusual warmth, she 
 murmured, as if to herself, " Dearest little friend, how 
 I hate to part with you." 
 
 " Don't go then, Elma. Wait until next month." 
 
 " Oh, I must," was the half-whispered reply, arousing 
 herself from the momentary reverie. 
 
 Mollie slipped her disengaged arm around her friend's 
 waist. 
 
 " What is it, Elma — what is troubling you? Won't 
 , you tell me ? I have noticed for some time that some- 
 thing was wrong." 
 
 There were tears threatened, both in El ma's voice, as 
 well as eyes ; still the answer she gave was not candid, 
 and Mollie knew it. 
 
 " You see how much it hurts me to part from my dear 
 little sister." 
 
 '' That is not the troul)le — it is something worse than 
 that — something that you wish to hide. I can guess 
 what it is, although you won't tell mo." 
 
 '' What could be worse than separation from the only 
 little sister I ever had ? " persisted the other, somewhat 
 uneasily, forcing a smile. 
 
 " You have a gi*eater trouble than that, I know, for 
 you can easily avoid that one by staying at home ; be- 
 sides, even if you will go, the separation would only be 
 for a short time." 
 
 ** But it might be longer than you think. Something 
 
206 LEON RECEIVES HIS ANSWER. 
 
 might occur — might come between us — that would part 
 us for good." 
 
 " How could that be, Elma? " 
 
 '' Oh, something might happen that would estrange j'ou 
 from me — that would cost me 3'our love." 
 
 " I know what you mean, but you are mistaken — you 
 do me an injustice. I know that Brother either has, or 
 intends to address you, and that you will reject him. 
 You do not love him, and you do love some one else. 
 I'm sorry for him, but that need not make any difference- 
 with us. I know you can't help it. AVe will always be 
 good friends and sisters, notwithstanding all that." 
 
 Elma's only reply was a kiss, given more impulsively 
 than Mollie had ever experienced from her before. But 
 the latter was not satisfied. Her friendship was not only 
 strong enough to pardon her brother's rejection, but also 
 prompted a desire to assist, if possible ; and at any rate, 
 to console her friend in her other trouble. 
 
 "I also believe," she continued, " that some trouble 
 has come between you and the one you do love. What it 
 is I can't imagine, and you won't make me a confidante as 
 I do you. If you would, possibl}^ I could help you. You 
 ought, at least, to feel certain of my s^mipathy." 
 
 " Oh, you must not know — you must not think any- 
 thing of the kind," she answered, changing what she 
 started to say with almost an appearance of alarm. '' You 
 must not give so loose a rein to j^our imagination as to 
 suppose that I have any other trouble than being sepa- 
 rated from you. Ah, there is the tea-bell ; you must not 
 keep your mother waiting." 
 
 Mollie turned reluctantly away to answer the summons, 
 by seeing that the supper-table was properly arranged, a 
 duty that had been delegated to her of late by her mother. 
 Elma's evasions did not cause her to change the opinion 
 she had formed, and she could not help feeling hurt and 
 disappointed at the want of confidence that her friend ex- 
 hibited. Scarcel}^ had she left the room, when Elma's 
 self-restraint gave way, and l)owing her head on the v>'in- 
 dow-sill, found momentary relief in tears. This self-in- 
 dulgence, however, was short, as a little later she joined 
 the other three at supper, with no visible signs of her 
 late emotion, unless it was a slight redness of the cheeks 
 and a more than usual brilliancy in her eyes. Leon 
 watched her with glowing admu-ation, placing a favorable 
 
BELLEVIEW. 207 
 
 construction for his own hopes on the extra flush and 
 sparkle. Some extra care that she had taken in her dress 
 was interpreted by his egotism in the same way. "She 
 has determined to accept me," he thought, " and wishes 
 to increase my appreciation of the prize I have won. 
 That is why she claimed the week's delay, thinking 
 by a show of hesitation to enhance her value in my eyes. 
 Very good, my beauty, but this night you shall say the 
 final word." 
 
 In accordance with this resolution, soon after supper 
 he invited her in the parlor, under the excuse of wanting 
 to hear a new song that she had lately learned. Without a 
 word she accepted the invitation, and taking a seat at the 
 instrument, rendered the song in brilliant style. She 
 finished the first, and had begun the prelude of another, 
 when he stopped her. 
 
 " That will do — it is not music that I want now." 
 
 " My singing did not please you, then?" Her voice 
 was clear, firm, and perfectly modulated ; her eyes as 
 bright as ever, but all color had left her cheeks. 
 
 " It is not that," h_ answered, eagerly ; " you know I 
 always enjoy your music more than any one's ; but I 
 want something else now — I want that answer you prom- 
 ise<l me a week ago. Elma — my love — my jewel " 
 
 One hand dropped from the ivory kej^s to a pocket in 
 the folds of her dress — her breathing quickened slightly, 
 but there was no other change. Drawing still nearer, 
 he continued : 
 
 " I cannot wait any longer — the suspense is bej^ond 
 endurance. Do not tantalize me any further. Only say 
 tliat you will be mine — that you will accept the heart that 
 adores you. Give me only one word — one sign — that 
 will make me the happiest of living mortals." He en- 
 deavored to slip an arm around her waist, but before the 
 act was accomplished, she sprung to her feet and glided 
 beyond his reach. 
 
 " Will you answer me one question first? "she de- 
 manded, in the clearest of bell-like tones. 
 
 He stopped in surprise, but showed no hesitation in 
 asking what question she Avanted answered. In chang- 
 ing her position, she had placed the corner of the piano 
 between them, and on this he rested one hand while 
 waiting her reply. 
 
 " What did you do with those flowers that were sent 
 
208 LEON RECEIVES HIS ANSWER. 
 
 me by — by a friend some three weeks ago, and which 
 were left in your charge by the messenger? " The break 
 in her sentence, caused by the substitution of the phrase 
 " a friend " in place of the donor's name, did not in any 
 wise lessen the sharp distinctness of her words. His 
 sallow cheeks flushed a little, but his answer was prompt 
 enough : 
 
 ' ' I sent them back to the presumptuous fool who dared 
 to take such a liberty, as I should have done." 
 
 '' And the note which accompanied them? " 
 
 *' I burnt it." 
 
 '' After reading what was not intended for your eyes? " 
 
 "No; I did not read it." 
 
 Remembering the contradictor}^ testimony of the forged 
 epistle, which she then held in her hand, concealed in the 
 folds of her dress, proving this assertion to be a false- 
 hood, all doubts of his guilt vanished entirel}^ In a 
 more passionate tone than she had hitherto used, she 
 continued : 
 
 " By what right, I ask, did you assume such responsi- 
 bility in a matter that was — that did not concern you?" 
 
 " But it did concern me — my love for 3^ou gave me 
 that right. It gives me the right of protecting j^ou from 
 such insolent liberties — from a presumptuous fool who 
 was lost to all sense of propriety, as well as of honor." 
 
 " Indeed ! And by the same argument you claimed 
 the right to imitate my handwriting, and to forge my sig- 
 nature to this insulting reply that you sent him ! " she 
 cried impetuously, throwing the note in such a way that 
 it fell on his hand that rested on the piano. She had in- 
 tended to control herself when she commenced, but 
 anger and indignation had become too strong, and waves 
 of red and white heat succeeded each other over her face, 
 while a steady blaze of lightning shot from her eyes. 
 
 So much passion apparently took him by surprise, and 
 he hesitated and looked down. He had caught the note, 
 and was holding it rather indifferently in his fingers, half 
 open. 
 
 " What is the use of all — " he had commenced to re- 
 ply, w^hen his eye caught something of its contents, and 
 he stopped. 
 
 She did not wait for him to finish either the reading or 
 his sentence, before she commenced again in the same 
 hot and contemptuous manner : 
 
BELLEVIEW. 209 
 
 *' And you — the author of that thing — talk about 
 honor? " 
 
 The withering scorn of her words and manner recalled 
 his attention from the paper, and brought at the same 
 time a deeper flush of crimson to his cheeks ; but the 
 confusion which interfered with his speech appeared to 
 be caused more by surprise than by shame. 
 
 '' I did not — where did you " 
 
 She again interrupted him, or rather broke in between 
 the disconnected parts of his sentence. His confusion, 
 his words, his manner, all tended to convince her more 
 conclusively as to his guilt. 
 
 " And after getting rid of your rival by such honor- 
 able means, no doubt you think you are conferring a 
 great honor, a great compliment on me, by the offer of 
 your honorable love — by the offer of the hand which ex- 
 ecuted that contemptible piece of forgery — by the offer 
 of the heart which could devise and engineer so base and 
 mean a plot. You demand an answer, eh? Well, you 
 shall have it," drawing herself to her full height. '' It 
 is this " 
 
 '' Hold on I " he cried, the sting of her words appear- 
 ing to clear away his confusion and to loosen his tongue. 
 " Stop ! You are mad — you do not know what you are 
 saying. You have gone crazy about nothing — there is a — " 
 
 But she did not allow him to finish, every word he ut- 
 tered seeming to add to her wrath and indignation. 
 
 " No ; I have not given you my answer yet, and that I 
 am determined you shall have. It is this : There is no 
 lot that I can imagine so miserable, or so debased, but 
 what I regard it as preferable to becoming your wife ! " 
 
 " Stop, you have said enough — too much " 
 
 ^' No, I have not finished yet — your answer you shall 
 have to the very last word. I love your sister devotedly 
 — I admire and reverence your step-mother — I esteem and 
 respect your father; but you, siv — the tender of your 
 love is the grossest insult you could possibly offer me — 
 you, whom I regard with less respect than the meanest 
 slave on your father's plantation." 
 
 '' Great God ! stop ! I cannot take such language — 
 even from you." His face was now black with rage, and 
 his hands clenched menacingly, as he added: ''Stop, 
 before you tempt me too far — before I " 
 
 '' Strike me. Why don't you finish your sentence? 
 
210 LEON RECEIVES HIS ANSWER. 
 
 Strike me — that would indeed be aii act peculiarly be- 
 fitting your honorable character. Surely, the hand that 
 committed that forgery, would not hesitate to strike a 
 woman. Strike me — it cannot add one iota to your 
 baseness." 
 
 He turned as pale as death, and fell back a couple of 
 steps, as if an abyss yawned beneath his feet. Was it 
 possible, he thought, for a Gachet to fall so low, as to 
 be accused of even threatening to strike a woman? 
 Trembling like a leaf, he stood dumb, and covered — 
 well, Elma thought, with shame and degradation. With 
 only a short pause, she continued : 
 
 " I have one word more to sa}^ — the last I shall ever 
 say to you —and m}^ answer will be finished. I leave 
 to-morrow morning for Macon, and shall never return 
 to Belleview — at least, so long as you are one of its in- 
 mates. To remain under tlie same roof with yo}i^ is im- 
 possible — to eat at the same table would be like swal- 
 lowing poison — to breath the same air, would suffocate 
 
 " for the first time she faltered and gasped for 
 
 breath. " Your presence is a torture — vrorse than 
 death — it will drive me mad. Let me pass." 
 
 The last words, however, were unnecessary, for, with 
 an oath hissing from his clenched teeth, he turned and 
 rushed from the room. She had conquered, and had 
 punished ; and for the moment, a proud smile of triumph 
 vied with the fire in her eyes, in lightening up the pale 
 face, and in relieving, somewhat, the tensity of her 
 drawn and rigid lips. Revenge was sweet ; nor did the 
 fact that part of the retribution had been inflicted in be- 
 half of a wronged and absent lover, in any wise lessen 
 its delights. Aye, she told herself, it was for him that 
 she had punislied — as for herself, she would have treated 
 the outrage with silent contempt. He was awn}^, unable 
 to obtain satisfaction for himself, and therefore, from 
 her must come the chastisement. It was, for the mo- 
 ment, an agreeable task, but by the inexorable law of 
 reaction, the disagreeable must follow ; and scarcely 
 had his hurrying foot-steps died from out the hall on the 
 still night air, than the smile of triumph also died out 
 from her face. Growing weak and dizzy, she was forced 
 to cling to the piano for support, until she could reach 
 the stool, on which she sank, no longer able to stand. 
 The reaction was cruel ; love had nerved her to a su- 
 
BELLEVIEW. 211 
 
 preme effort for vengeance in behalf of the absent one, 
 and now she must suffer the result. No tears came to 
 relieve the burning eyes, that now felt like the coals of 
 fire they had looked. The trembling of one hand rat- 
 tled the ivory keys, and shivers of cold racked the form 
 w^hich had so lately been afire with passion and hate. 
 Chilly doubts shook mind and bodj^ — doubts of the wis- 
 dom, the propriety, and the womanliness of her course. 
 Had she done right? urged conscience, now strong, 
 when desire for revenge had been satiated. " Yes," 
 .she kept whispering to the awakened mentor, " for his 
 sake — not mine." These doubts must also be conquered 
 — to give way to them now would kill her — to acknowl- 
 edge that she had erred, would loosen the last anchor, 
 and plunge her into the abyss of despair. 
 
 Fifteen minutes later she rallied strength sufficient to 
 climb the stairs to her room, but as she laid her hand 
 on the door-knob, the thought that probably Mollie was 
 there, caused her to hesitate. Coul'd she meet Leon 
 Gachet's sister just then? Could she hide from her 
 friendly eyes the traces of that interview ? Mollie must 
 never know what had passed between them in the par- 
 lor — must never suspect even her brother's dishonor. 
 Everything connected with the shameful trick must be 
 kept from all the family — other causes must be given 
 for her low spirits, other reasons made to explain this 
 sudden trip to Macon, and other excuses for remaining 
 away when she was gone. This would necessitate de- 
 ceit and subterfuge. Again the doubt arose to torment 
 a conscience no longer protected by the desire to pun- 
 ish. Wondering if this was the beginning of her own 
 punishment, she turned away to seek some other retreat, 
 where she would have time to quiet her conscience, 
 steady her nerves, and assume the mask it had become 
 necessary to wear amongst her nearest friends, when she 
 heard MoUie's voice, and the sound of her footsteps 
 passing through the lower hall towards her mother's 
 door 
 
212 THE FRENZY OF PATRIOTISM. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 THE FRENZY OF PATRIOTISM. 
 
 All the " Cotton States," in quick succession, 
 passed an ordinance of secession, and appointed dele- 
 gates to confer with each other on the subject of a new 
 government or confederation. These dc4egates soon 
 met in the city of Montgomery, and through their uni- 
 ted ministrations, " The Confederate States of Amer- 
 ica" were born into the world of nations. Its wet 
 nurses were in no wise discouraged b}^ the fact tLat, fig- 
 uratively speaking, it was destitute of even the swad- 
 dling clothes of an empire, and fondly hoped and pre- 
 dicted a glorious future for the young power. Their 
 love and their devotion would speedily provide it with 
 the necessary food and raiment, and fed, as it would 
 be, on the pure milk of liberty and state rights, it 
 would rapidly grow in beauty and strength to become 
 the paragon par excellence — the model of political in- 
 stitutions, and the admiration of the world. In the 
 meantime, all eyes, all thoughts, and all fears were 
 turned towards Washington for indications of the policy 
 of the new administration — whether it was to be peace 
 or war — and in earnest appeals to the adjoining slave 
 states for their adhesion and support. 
 
 Lincoln's inaugural address proved to be more con- 
 seiTative than was expected, and for one short month 
 strengthened the confidence in a peaceful solution. But, 
 alas for human hopes, soon the flower-scented breezes 
 of April brought tidings that destroyed that fond illu- 
 sion. The same air, so sweetly laden with the perfume 
 of earth's fairest productions, also bore the harsh echo 
 of cannon, booming around the walls of Fort Sumter, 
 telling in unmistakable language the sad truth, that fra- 
 tricidal strife had begun. On the same spot, less than 
 one hundred years before, the heroes of Carolina had 
 bid defiance to England's power ; but now it was broth- 
 ers who were using cannon against brothers in settling 
 a famil}^ quarrel, and to begin a war whose horrors were 
 to be relieved by their heroism alone. Yea, a struggle 
 as useless as it was hopeless, but in which they made 
 
BELLE VIEW. 213 
 
 their southern willows — a fit emblem of the result — as 
 glorious as any victor's laurels. 
 
 The echoes of that bombardment acted like an elec- 
 tric shock, raising the cry " to arms " throughout the 
 South. In every city and town, and around almost ev- 
 ery village, could be seen the weekly drilling of volun- 
 teer and militia companies ; while the white tents of in- 
 struction camps gleamed through the green foliage of 
 many a hitherto quiet and peaceful grove. The young 
 and old of both sexes alike caught the infection, and 
 war, battles, and military glory, fought and won in the 
 defence of their country, was the daily, hourly talk of 
 all. The pleasant social parties, joyous picnics in the 
 leafy vvoods, and merr}^ fishings on the shady banks of 
 creek and river, that usually prevailed this season of the 
 year, were forsaken for the sterner and more exciting 
 scenes of the drill and parade. Youug maidens no 
 longer sang soft love songs, or played dreamy waltzes 
 for enamored beaus — their music, even, must needs be 
 martial and patriotic ballads, to the tune of which their 
 lovers marched away to die amidst the din of harsher 
 notes. The drum, the bugle, and the fife made the air 
 resonant with their soul-inspiring sounds, drowning the 
 agonizing cry and piteous prayer of many a mother's 
 heart. Even the negroes caught the infection, and con- 
 structing out of cane rude imitations of the soldier's 
 fife, the strains of " Dixie," " Bonnie Blue Flag," and 
 kindred airs, only ceased in the camps to be taken up 
 at night on the plantation, where the old-time fiddle and 
 banjo lay unstrung on the shelf. 
 
 'Twas a beautiful sight, those long lines of citizen 
 soldiery, in gray uniforms, under silken banners, step- 
 ping to the stately rhythm of their own martial music ; 
 proudly conscious of the shiniug eyes that gloated in 
 ecstasy over every movement ; still, like the charge of 
 the Six Hundred at Balaklava, " it was not war." It 
 was a sight to kindle the latent fire in Southern veins, 
 inciting the participator to heroic deeds in imagination 
 — to noblest impulses of patriotism and devotion to 
 country, but it gave no hint to the uninitiated of the 
 darker scenes that lay behind. 'Twas a beautiful sight, 
 but alas ! it was serving as a veil to hide the blood- 
 stained fields, the heaps of dead, the crowded hospitals, 
 the lonely dying, with only the stars of heaven to watch 
 
214 THE FRENZY OF PATRIOTISM. ' 
 
 the last struggle, to receive the last message — to hide 
 the broken hearts, the ruined homes, the devastated 
 country — the blood, the ruin, the misery and destruc- 
 tion, that constitute the true reality of civil war. Oh, 
 that fate had only left that veil undrawn — had left the 
 happy illusion undispelled — had never bared to those 
 loving eyes, now sparkling with pride and admiration, 
 the fearful scenes that were to follow ! 
 
 But fate willed it otherwise — inexorable destiny un- 
 mercifully pursued its course. Each day it became more and 
 more apparent that there could be no peaceful solution, 
 that the power of arms must alone settle the dispute. 
 The pride of the South cT)uld not yield, while the fanat- 
 icism of the North, cruel in its brutal strength, was de- 
 termined to punish " the defiant rebels." These volun- 
 teer companies were soon hurried to the front, and the 
 gala-days of the local drill -field ceased, taking away 
 from the fond spectators *'all the pomp and circum- 
 stance of war." Slowly the veil was withdrawn, and 
 happy, hopeful enthusiasm was succeeded by ceaseless 
 anxiety and bitter sorrow. A struggle had commenced, 
 whose extent and severity could not be measured by the 
 imaghiation of either the most eager combatant, 
 thirsting for glory, nor the most reluctant lover of peace, 
 longing for the end — a war that was to astonish the civ- 
 ilized world with its fury and magnitude, completely 
 overthrowing the preconceived opinion, that '* the 
 Americans were not a war-like people." 
 
 The lightest part of the burden of this war did not 
 fall upon the Southern women. When the true history 
 of this section is written, the pages allotted to them, to 
 their trials, their sacrifices, and to their steadfast devo- 
 tion to the lost cause, will not be the least glorious of 
 an honorable record. They never stopped to question 
 if their cause was right — if justice was oh their side — 
 they could not comprehend even the possibility of a 
 doubt on that point, but with an unfaltering faith, they 
 contributed their all in its support. This feeling per- 
 vaded all classes alike — from the farmer's wife to the 
 daughter of the wealthiest planter ; and dresses, spun, 
 woven, and made by their own hands, were prized by 
 the latter more highly than the richest silks and satins ; 
 while their jewels and golden ornaments were freely 
 offered to replenish the exhausted exchequer at Rich- 
 
BELLE VIEW. 215 ' 
 
 mond. Ladies who had never known any coarser work 
 than the silken embroidery with which they whiled away 
 the tedious hours of luxury, now forsook their boudoirs 
 and parlors for the weaving- room ; and young girls, 
 whose fingers had never come in contact with any harder 
 substance than the ivory keys of their pianos, now 
 found no occupation more desirable than that of driv- 
 ing the spinning-wheel, or swinging the heavy beam of 
 a rude hand-loom. Instead of French novels and cro- 
 chet needles, their recreation from heavier labors con- 
 sisted in knitting warm socks, mittens, and comforters 
 for the loved ones in the army ; and none, no matter 
 how gently and tenderly they may have been nurtured, 
 but what eagerly cut out and stitched up the home- 
 made gray uniforms, made illustrious on so bloody bat- 
 tlefields. The sick or wounded soldier, in their eyes, 
 was a martyr to a sacred cause, well deserving their 
 faithful and loving ministrations, and alone entitled to 
 those little luxuries, whose scant supply was fast being 
 exhausted, without any prospect of a speedy renewal. 
 Sorrows and disasters did not lessen their ardor ; neither 
 did the presence of the enemy daunt their courage. Ru- 
 mors of defeat they ever denounced as falsehoods — how 
 could their armies be defeated ? Were not their Gener- 
 als the most skilful — their soldiers the most invincible — 
 that the world had ever seen ? And was not their cause 
 a just one, entitled to the favor of the God of Battles? 
 and would He not, in His own good time, crown their 
 valor with the wished-f or success ? Even when the news 
 of Lee's and Johnston's surrender came, they indig- 
 nantly scouted the idea that the Confederates were con- 
 quered — "only overpowered," they claimed, ''by the 
 countless legions that the North and Europe have sent 
 against us ; " and the weary, foot-sore, ragged, and 
 half-starved remnant, returning to their homes, received 
 a victor's welcome. Many a shame-faced rebel, smart- 
 ing with the sting of defeat and humiliation, sought the 
 presence of his sweetheart with downcast ej^es, only to 
 find himself a veritable hero in her estimation. Is it 
 any wonder that it took four years of the great North's 
 mightiest efforts to ensure the final victory, when their 
 opponents were stimulated and encouraged by the love, 
 the prayers, and the patriotism of such women? 
 Eight or wrong, can devotion like this be criminal ? 
 
216 THE FRENZY OF PATRIOTISM. 
 
 Even if mistaken — if the victims of a false principle 
 — can so much courage, unselfishness, and fidelity be 
 lost? We think not. The example is left to their chil- 
 dren, who Avill paint and frame the picture in the nation's 
 heart ; a fit companion-piece to that other scene at Ap- 
 pomatox, when Gordon's four thousand famished, ema- 
 ciated, and bleeding heroes, begged, with tears in their 
 eyes, to be allowed to make one more charge, although 
 each private must have known that it meant death, and 
 nothing more. 
 
 The days and weeks passed by, but Mrs. Martin re- 
 ceived no letter. She watched the incomiug of the semi- 
 weekly mail with anxious interest, but as time passed, 
 and events unfolded themselves, it became evident that 
 her watching was all in vain. Elma also did some watch- 
 ing, for she, too, was not entirely without hope of hear- 
 ing from AVyndship, or of his return — a hope which, 
 faint as it was, lingered awhile after all mail communi- 
 cations with Pennsylvania had ceased. Faith is a sweet 
 counselor, even when we have no tangible grounds for 
 believing its delusive whisperings ; but sooner or later 
 there must come a time when its influence is forever 
 past — when our desires can no longer deceive us against 
 reason. So it was with Elma. Her judgment told her 
 that the probabilities of Mrs. Martin's letter reaching 
 him during the turmoil of revolution, were slight indeed, 
 and when weeks and months had passed, bringing hos- 
 tilities and war, reason convinced her that this slight 
 chance had miscarried. All that was left of her first 
 love-dream, was the memor}^ of the few delightful hours 
 that fell to her lot before her happiness had been so 
 ruthlessly extinguished ; unless we except a recollec- 
 tion, weighing like a nightmare on her conscience, of 
 that last scene with Leon Gachet, wherein she had taken 
 vengeance into her own hands. Notwithstanding her 
 innate hatred for all that was mean and dishonorable, 
 and her decided conviction of his guilt, this doubt still 
 remained to trouble her. 
 
 It is a necessity with the feminine heart that they 
 have some idol — some person, some object, or some 
 idea — which they endow with divinity in their imagina- 
 
BELLE VIEW. 217 
 
 tion, and on which they lavish all their instincts of wor- 
 ship. Deprived of her idol, Elma nnconscionsly sought 
 a substitute ; but as her fancy was incapable of endow- 
 ing any other person in the same perfect and Godlike 
 manner as it had "Wyndship, it was impossible to fill his 
 place. In fact, he had never been removed from her 
 heart — the idol still remained on its pedestal, safe and 
 untouched, and there was no room left for a rival of the 
 same dimensions. No woman can love two men at the 
 same time, and it would be years before one of her na- 
 ture could forget the first. But this objection did not 
 extend to ideas not connected with man and marriage ; 
 so, to dispel unhappy thoughts of what might have 
 been, and to distract her aching heart, sick with disap- 
 pointment, she adopted a principle as the recipient of 
 the adoration which, under happier auspices, would have 
 been lavished on a lover or husband. This principle 
 was her country's cause, and catching the spirit which 
 animated her sisters of the South, she became one of the 
 truest and most enthusiastic femiale adherents of the 
 Southern Confederacy ; only, that her enthusiasm was 
 imbued from the start with the sam.e element of sadness 
 that all afterwards acquired. A sadness which, like 
 theirs, was not produced by anticipations of defeat, but 
 for personal bereavements, and for loved ones, suffering 
 and in danger. Then, too, her patriotism was even 
 more unselfish than theirs, as she had no lover, father, 
 or brother to link her in the bonds of love to the fate of 
 the Southern soldiery — the bond was simply love of 
 country, and devotion to what she imagined was its 
 honor and its rights. 
 
 The want of personal interest, and of happy antici- 
 pations of joy in the future did not render her patriot- 
 ism any the less earnest or self-sacrificing. In a quiet 
 way, avoiding all show and ostentation, she allowed no 
 opportunity of doing her country's defenders a service 
 to pass unappropiated. No box filled with clothing and 
 home cookies ever left the neighborhood for the camps 
 in Virginia and Tennessee, that did not contain some 
 contribution of hers — some handiwork of her fingers 
 that would add to the comfort of the rebel boys. The 
 sick and wounded on furlough, no matter how humble, 
 were sure to receive some token of her appreciation, in 
 the shape of little dainties to tempt their appetites, man- 
 
^18 THE FRENZY OF PATFtIOTIS:\r. 
 
 iifactured by her own hands ; and often, when circum- 
 stances permitted, were favored with the still greater 
 boon of her presence and nursing. But more than all 
 else, the indigent families of poor men who volunteered 
 were the special objects of her care and assistance. On 
 these she lavished the contents of her purse unstintedly, 
 besides using her influence in raising contributions among 
 the wealthier for their support. She seemed to have 
 taken this as her special duty, and in its performance, 
 she did not in the least falter during those four long and 
 gloomy years. 
 
 She returned to Belleview after a few months' stay in 
 Macon, unable to resist Mollie's tearful appeals. Leon 
 had been among the first to volunteer, and his absence 
 removed the only obstacle that prevented her returning. 
 Her friend was in trouble — double trouble, for Charley 
 Hurst, despite his father's Union proclivities, had also 
 donned the gray, and left for Virginia. So Elma, know- 
 ing what a sore little heart that was left behind, felt it 
 a duty to extend all the consolation her companionship 
 and sympathy could give. The communism of sorrow 
 had torn away the slight barriers raised by the want of 
 confidence on Elma's part, and tlieir mutual troubles re- 
 newed and strengthened their old friendship and sisterly 
 feeling. Even to the eyes of her closest friend, 
 Elma did not display the signal of distress ; still, Mol- 
 lie instinctively knew that her friend's lot was far more 
 unenviable than her own, for it was not relieved by hope of 
 happier days in the future — was cheered and lightened 
 by none of those precious missives from the front, which 
 now formed her own greatest solace. 
 
 Prompted by this conviction, she eagerly reciprocated 
 the other's efforts at comforting as far as was permitted. 
 Sympathy that was genuine was as sweet to Elma as to 
 any one, but she possessed a spirit too independent and 
 self-reliant to seek it on every side, or indeed, to seek 
 it at all. Still, there were times when even her strong 
 nature grew weak beneath the constant burden — when 
 she would gladly have laid aside the yoke, and found 
 rest in the grave. In addition to a hopeless sorrow, her 
 heart was often probed with the thought that prob- 
 ably the one she loved so truly was then bearing arms 
 against her country — that he was one of those whom 
 patriotism required her to execrate ; and to wish, if not 
 
BELLE VtEW. Si 9 
 
 to pray, for their destruction. This was indeed a har- 
 rowing thought. " He will know my feelings," she told 
 herself, vainly trying to quiet this fear — " he will 
 know that I cannot but be true, aye, devoted to the 
 cause of the South, and for my sake, will refrain from 
 joining the ranks of our oppressors. But he went away 
 believing you wrote that note — that you entertained the 
 despisable sentiments it expressed — he is ignorant of 
 the vile plot that destroyed your happiness as well as 
 his. Believing all this, his love has long since been turned 
 to hatred and contempt," At tins unanswerable argu- 
 ment, her head would sink in shame and misery, and 
 tears would come, which, if scant and few, were con- 
 centrated in bitterness. 
 
BELLEVIEW. 
 
 PART II. 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 GETTYSBURG LEON MAKES A PREDICTION. 
 
 It was between nine and ten o'clock on the night of 
 July 2nd, 1863, and the second day's battle at Gettys- 
 burg had closed. Quiet, with the exception of the cus- 
 tomary noises of armies encamped, had settled down on 
 these historic ridges, already red with brothers' blood, 
 and destined to become still redder before this act of 
 the great drama was forever finished. A line of glim- 
 mering camp fires along the western slope of Seminary 
 Ridge marked the position of Pickett's Division of the 
 Confederate Army, which had only that evening arrived 
 to participate in the struggle. Around these camp-fires 
 the soldiers were grouped in various occupations, some 
 still engaged in eagerly discussing the meagre details of 
 success during the preceding two days, which had come 
 to their knowledge ; while others, more philosophically 
 inclined, were seeking the restorative influences of slum- 
 ber to recuperate their energies for the duties and dan- 
 gers that the morrow would bring. Precious slumber ; 
 for besides its refreshing effects, it brought svreet dreams 
 of the loved ones at home, whose forms were destined 
 never to bless their waking sight again. The next night 
 many of them, now so proudly confident of a glorious 
 victory, and an early peace, that would send them back 
 to their sunny homes in the South, would be the cold 
 possessors of that peace which knows no breaking, save 
 but by the Archangels trumpet. 
 
 Across the darkness of the intervening valley, on the 
 
BELLEVICU'. 221 
 
 opposite ridge, a faint glow iDdieated the position of 
 the Federal army, who, no doubt, were engj;ged with 
 the same thoughts and occupations. The gloom of 
 night, like a curtain between scenes, had shut down on 
 the stage, and hid from sight the debris and destruction 
 of the two daj^s' battles. Hid also the preparations go- 
 ing on behind for the denotiment when another dawn 
 should ring up the sable folds. Or rather, was it not a 
 mantle of charity which nature wished to throw over the 
 wrecks of human passion? A trick, with which she 
 wished to cheat herself into the belief that no cannon's 
 roar had, or would shake those picturesque hills ; no 
 bayonet charge had, or would rush in frenzied valor 
 across that lovely valley ? Shocked by the fearful use 
 to which the glorious light of day had been put, did she 
 not wish to check the sin and hide the horror, while 
 angels wept and prayed ? 
 
 On this night, beneath the shadow of some trees that 
 crowned the western ridge, the forms of two persons in 
 earnest conversation, might have been dimly seen. One 
 of them stood with one arm resting on the neck of a 
 horse he had evidently been riding, while the other paced 
 back and forth in the shadows, now slowly and quietly, 
 now quickly and restlessly, in harmony with his thoughts 
 and words ; and sometimes stopping quite still, as if to 
 hear his companion's replies more distinctl}", or to give 
 greater emphasis to his own remarks. 
 
 " And you have had no late news from home?" re- 
 marked the first, in a disappointed tone. 
 
 " No. Your letters are later than my last." 
 
 This want of intelligence from home seemed quite a 
 disappointment to the first speaker, as he remained si- 
 lent, while the second person paced back and forth for a 
 minute or two. The latter was the first to renew the 
 conversation. 
 
 " I understand the fighting has all been in our favor, 
 so far?" 
 
 * ' Yes ; entirely so, with our wing of the army — 
 well," the other added, modifying his assertion, "our 
 success this afternoon was not as decisive as I could 
 wish. We captured the enemy's breastworks, but 
 Early's division was afterwards driven back. Johnson 
 still holds what he won on the extreme left, but I fear 
 the Yankees will be too many for him in the morning, 
 
^^2 GETTYSBURG LEON MAKES A CONFESSION. 
 
 unless he is strongly reinforced. I wonder how Long- 
 street succeeded in his nltaclv ? " 
 
 " He drove them back some distance, I understand." 
 
 "Did he succeed in capturing ' Round Top,' and in 
 turning their position? " 
 
 " No — I think not." 
 
 " Well, there is hot work ahead of us yet, before our 
 victory is decisive." 
 
 "Oh, we'll whip them easily to-morrow." 
 
 "I hope so." 
 
 "You hope so? Why don't you say j-ou know so?" 
 
 "Because they seemed determined this evening to 
 hold their ground at all hazards, and besides, thc}^ have 
 been receiving reinforcements all day, and now have not 
 only the advantage of position, but also of superior 
 numbers. I'm afraid our success is about over, for the 
 present." 
 
 "Come, don't be a ' Doubting Thomas,' now, on the 
 eve of the greatest victory we have yet won." 
 
 "I'm not so sure about that. The Yanks fought in 
 quite a different stj^le to-daj^ from what they did yester- 
 day." The recollection of the first day's victory seemed 
 to have quite an inspiring effect on the speaker, for he 
 continued with animation: "You just ought to have 
 seen how Rodes's division v/ent for them then, Leon 
 — it would have done you good to the end of your toes. 
 Howard's corps was nothing more than chaff before a 
 hun-icane. We drove them through the town down there, 
 like a flock of sheep." 
 
 ' ' They haven't got over the ' thrashing' you gave 
 them at Chancellorsville." 
 
 " I reckon not," assented the other, with a laugh. 
 " I heard one of the prisoners we captured say that he 
 guessed it was all a mistake about Stonewall Jackson be- 
 ing dead, from the way we fellows were wading in." 
 
 " Yes, and from the way we shall ' wade into them * 
 to-morrow, they will think a hundred StonewallJacksons 
 had come to life." 
 
 " I wonder if ' Uncle Robert' intends attacking them 
 in the centre to-morrow?" resumed Charley, after some 
 minutes' silence, which was apparently spent by the 
 other in deep thought. 
 
 "I think so — at least, the position our division 
 
BELLEVIEW. 223 
 
 has taken in their front, would indicate such an inten- 
 tion." 
 
 '' I hope not." 
 ''Why?" 
 
 ''Because it is a fearfully strong position, and will 
 cost much blood to carry it, if we carry it at all." 
 
 "What, not carry that hill? Why, we would storm 
 the depths of hell itself, should General Lee ffive the 
 order." 
 
 " You haven't seen it yet by daylight." 
 "I don't care," answered Leon, hotly, in his old 
 proud, imperious manner. " I don't want to see it, only 
 to lead my regiment in a charge against its blue-coated 
 defenders. AVhen that time comes, I and my regiment 
 of Virginians are going into their works — do you hear 
 it?" 
 
 " If you live to reach them." 
 
 '' I will live to reach them — I could not die short of 
 their lines." 
 
 "After all our success, it won't do to fall back into 
 Virginia without a decisive fight, I reckon, but I hope 
 the General "will devise some other way of getting at 
 them, than to charge across this valley and up that hill. 
 A mistake was made in allowing them to take that posi- 
 tion, I think." 
 
 " What — have you gone to criticising your commander? 
 General Lee never makes mistakes." 
 
 "I am not criticising General Lee — he may never 
 make mistakes, but his Lieutenants sometimes do ; and 
 I think this is one of the times." 
 "How is that?" 
 
 "I heard one of the General's staff say to-night that 
 he expected'Lougstreet to attack during the morning, 
 instead of late this evening, and, if he had done so, he 
 would have been more successful. Then, Early ought 
 to have occupied those hills last night. He could have 
 done it then without much fighting." 
 " Why didn't he do so?" 
 
 "I don't know. They say that his orders forbade 
 his advancing be^^ond the town ; but if old Stonewall 
 had been alive, you may rest assured that, orders or no 
 orders, he never would have rested until he had secured 
 possession of all the strong places." 
 
 " Well, it does not matter," answered Leon, after a 
 
224 GETTYSBURG LEON MAKES A CONFESSION. 
 
 pause, which he spent in pacing back and forth. " Both 
 armies have now come np, and Gettj^sburg and to-mor- 
 row are as good a time and place to decide this war as 
 any." 
 
 " I, for one, would prefer a time and place where the 
 chances would be nearer equal." 
 
 "What? Is the gallant Captain Hurst — his com- 
 mander's favorite aid — who has been so often compli- 
 mented for his bravery under fire — about to show the 
 white feather ? And that, too, on the eve of the battle 
 that is to briug success to his cause, and peace to his 
 country ? " 
 
 " God grant that such will be the result," Charley 
 answered, earnesth^ without noticing the other's fling, 
 "but, as the boys would say, 'I'd ruther see it, than to 
 hear tell of it.' I will take an honorable peace now, in 
 preference to all the compliments, and all the military 
 glory that is to be won in this war. To acknowledge 
 the truth, I would much rather be back in ' Old Geor- 
 gia' to-night, thr.n here." 
 
 " If that is the case, j^ou had better do like Arthur 
 Slatou ; secure an easy position in the commissary de- 
 partment, out of danger. If I can be of any service to 
 you, command me." 
 
 This sneer was too much for even Charley's gcod hu- 
 mor, and he answered with spirit : 
 
 " I thank you — I have no intention of troubling you 
 in that way. You have no right, nor any occasion to say 
 what 3^ou have — you know such insinuations are unjust, 
 for I have never yet shirked any duty, or danger. You, 
 nor au}^ one else, has the success of our cause more at 
 heart than I have, or are any more willing to fight in its 
 defence." 
 
 "I beg your pardon, Charley," Leon answered, with 
 a complete change of manner, that took the other by 
 surprise ; " the sneer was not intended for you — I know- 
 that under no circumstances could you show the white 
 feather. Thinking of that scoundrel, Slaton, made me 
 say what I did. I wish to God I had him here, and 
 could place him in front of my regiment to-morrow, 
 where the boys could goad him on with their bayonets in 
 a charge. It would make his rascally, cowardly heart 
 jump clean out of his mouth with terror." 
 
 " No danger of your ever getting him into such a 
 
BELLEVIEW. 225 
 
 position as that," Charley answered, his good humor all 
 returned. 
 
 u No, him." The oath was too emphatic for 
 
 type. The reference to Slaton seemed to have excited 
 Leon even more than his language implied, for some mo- 
 ments of silence followed, in which his actions evinced 
 unusual nervousness. At length he grew more quiet, 
 and stopping in his walk, returned to their former subject, 
 but in a different tone. 
 
 " You wish for a speedy peace — well, yonr wish will 
 be gratified. To-morrow will decide the war. The en- 
 emy is going to make his best effort — his death struggle 
 — but we are going to win. Their army will be routed 
 and scattered, and Washington, Philadelphia, and New 
 York will be at our mercy. Lincoln will be forced to 
 grant us the terms we demand before his western troops 
 can come to his assistance. It will cost blood — it will 
 take fighting to accomplish it, but that will only make 
 the result more decided and glorious. Yes," he added, 
 after a pausa, and in a lower tone, " to-morrow will se- 
 cure the independence of our Southern Confederacy, but 
 I will not live to see it." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 " That I am going to be killed on yonder hill." 
 
 "Pshaw! that's all nonsense." 
 
 "It is not nonsense. As certain as to-morrow comes, 
 I will be killed." 
 
 The earnest tone and manner in which this was said, 
 affected even Charley's more matter-of-fact and less su- 
 perstitious nature. Leon undoubtedly believed it, and 
 nothing influences a hearer more than self-conviction on 
 the part of the speaker. But Hurst did not enjoy such 
 thoughts himself ; neither did he think that they could 
 be pleasant companions to his prospective brother-in- 
 law, and consequently he undertook to drive them away 
 by a little raillery. 
 
 " What?" he exclaimed, in mocking imitation. of the 
 other's tone, when accusing him of showing the white 
 feather, " is the brave Lieutenant-Colonel Gachet, com- 
 manding the — th Regiment of Virginia volunteers, he who 
 has won the admiration of friend and foe on so man}'^ bloody 
 fields — who is believed to be not only devoid of all fear, 
 but also to possess a charmed existence — is he, I say, 
 giving way to such gloomy forebodings as these, right 
 
'226 GETTYSKURG LEON MAKES A CONFESSION. 
 
 on the eve of his country's greatest victory ? I cun't 
 believe it." 
 
 '' You may laugh as much as you please," answered 
 Leon, without any change in his manner, " but to-mor- 
 row night, or when this battle is over, you may look 
 for my body over yonder, and you will be certain to 
 find it." 
 
 Ridicule was useless against such earnestness, so 
 Charley dropped it, and tried remonstrance. 
 
 " Come, you must not talk that way, Leon. You 
 must not brood over such fancies, but instead, think of 
 the promotion you are going to win, and the glorious re- 
 turn home when the war is over. 
 
 " That will be for you, not for me. I know that I 
 will be killed, because I have had a presentiment of it 
 for the last week, ever since we started on this cam- 
 paign. There is a tradition in our family — my mother's 
 family — that just before death, the doomed person re- 
 ceives a warning of his or her fate by just such a pre- 
 sentiment. It was the case with my mother, so my old 
 nurse has often told me. A few days before she died, 
 when no one had any idea that her illness would prove 
 fatal, she told my father and the nurse that she would 
 die at a certain hour on a certain day. They tried to 
 laugh her out of the idea, just as you have me, but her 
 prediction was verified at the very minute. I have felt 
 this premonition ever since we left the Rappahannock, 
 and to-night it is too strong for me to doubt what it 
 means any longer." 
 
 ^' You shouldn't let an old woman's tale like that get 
 control of yom* mind. You are nervous — out of sorts — 
 have probably undergone too much fatigue of late, and 
 no doubt will feel better to-morrow." 
 
 " You do not know what you're talking about," re- 
 torted Leon, with a partial return of his old intolerant 
 manner. " I'm not nervous — I'm not out of sorts — 
 physically, I never felt better in my life. Nor am I 
 afraid to die — in fact, death could not come in a more 
 agreeable shape than it will come to-morrow. It is true 
 that I have never yet received a scratch in all the battles 
 that I have been through, but that only proves that my 
 time had not then come. It will come to-morrow." 
 
 " I don't like to hear you talk this way. I " 
 
 *' It is best that I should be killed to-morrow," inter- 
 
BELLEVIEW. 227 
 
 riipted Leon. '* Possibly the monner of my death will 
 partly atone for the miserable failure of my life." 
 
 ' ' I did not know that your life had been such a fail- 
 ure — at least, others do not so regard it. Your friends 
 are feeling quite proud over your career so far." 
 
 '' Drink has been my curse — my ruin. You talk 
 about my career because j^ou do not know of my dis- 
 grace — if you did, you would keep your mouth shut. 
 While intoxicated, I was a participant in a dishonorable 
 action, that has brought an ineffaceable stain on the 
 Gachet name — something that never happened before — 
 and the recollection of it — the shame — sticks to my 
 memory like a curse. Besides, it brought me the with- 
 ering scorn and contempt of the only woman I ever 
 loved. That mistake, and its results, cannot now be 
 rectified ; and consequently, my honor cannot be re- 
 deemed. I am tii-ed of the burden, and do not wish to 
 live." 
 
 " Great God ! Leon ! What are you talking about 
 — what is the matter with you? Are you — have you 
 gone craz}^?" 
 
 Before he could answer, they were interrupted by 
 some one calling for " Captain Hurst." 
 
 " Hello ! who is that? " replied Charley. 
 
 " A courier from General Rodes. He wants Captain 
 Hurst at once." 
 
 '' Is that you, Saunders? " 
 
 *' Yes. The General wants you to come to his head- 
 quarters right away. Captain." 
 
 "All right; I will go in a minute," and turning to 
 his companion, he continued in the soothing tone that 
 we use toAvards the sick and irresponsible : Leon, I am 
 sorry that I have to leave you in your — your present state 
 of mind. I'm afraid j^ou have been brooding over some 
 imaginary trouble too much. Go to sleep, now, and try to 
 get a good night's rest ; it will restore your spirits, and drive 
 all those foolish fancies out of your head ; and — and 
 you'll forget them to-morrow." 
 
 "Damnation! Do yon think I'm crazy? Well, I 
 don't know that it makes any difference if you do. 
 When you find my body, after the battle is over, I want 
 you to feel in this pocket," laying his hand on the breast 
 of his coat, "and get a packet in there. If anybody 
 else finds my body, and takes the packet first, hunt them 
 
228 GETTYSBURG LEON MAKES A CONFESSIOlf. 
 
 up, and make them deliver it np, for I want you to give 
 it to Elma Oweus with your own hands. Will you do 
 this?" 
 '' I will." 
 
 *' I don't care if you read it — I intended telling you 
 all about the miserable affair to-night, had we not been 
 interrupted ; but you must not let its contents alter your 
 feelings towards MoUie." 
 " Nothing can do that." 
 
 "I do not want her to suffer on my account. She 
 possesses the purest and most loving of hearts ; and you 
 are the only one I know that is worthy of her." 
 
 " I am not ; but if I have one ambition, it is to make 
 myself more so." 
 
 " Remember the packet — I want Elma Owens to know 
 the truth now, if I was too proud and mad to tell her 
 when I should." 
 " I'll remember ." 
 "Good-bye." 
 
 " Oh, Leon, I hate to leave you in this humor." 
 '' Never mind my humor — go to your duty. Take care 
 of Mollie, and — try to fill a son's place at Belleview. 
 You can do it better than I." 
 
 They wrung each other's hands a moment, and sepa- 
 rated. Charley mounted his horse and rode slowly away 
 in the direction of his command. He could not help 
 mhiding Leon's humor, or of thinking about his strange 
 words and manner. In spite of all his efforts, he failed 
 to throw off the depression caused by their conversa- 
 tion ; and the latter's prophecies and self-accusations 
 weighed like a nightmare on his spirits, until banished 
 by the intense excitement of the following day. 
 
 Leon's promotion in rank had been rapid — from a 
 Lieutenant to Lieutenant-Colonel — but this was not owing 
 to personal popularity either among his superior officers 
 or among the rank and file. In fact, during the first part of 
 the war, a difficulty with his Colonel had made it neces- 
 sary that he get a transfer from the Georgia regiment 
 in which he first served, to one from another state. 
 Since that night of his last interview with Elma, there 
 had been a marked change in his manners and disposi- 
 tion that did not add to their attractiveness. He had 
 grown morose and unsociable, and consequently made 
 few, if any, friends among his comrades. But if he 
 
BELLEVIEW. 
 
 gained no love, he at least gained their respect and ad- 
 miration by a personal bravery that never flinched be- 
 fore the most imminent danger ; and while man}^ of 
 them knew that his father's inflaence helped on the pro- 
 motion, none of them could truthfully say that it was 
 undeserved. 
 
 Advancement with Charley Hurst had not been so 
 rapid. Not that he was less brave, or less devoted to 
 duty, but because he was not backed by the same politi- 
 cal influences. Old Colonel Gachet would have gladly 
 extended his good offices for the benefit of his expected 
 son-in-law, but the latter was too independent to accept 
 the assistance. Prompted by feelings of delicacy and 
 self-respect, he preferred to be the architect of his own 
 military fortune. The hand of his daughter was as 
 great an obligation as he desired at the former's hands. 
 Unlike Leon, Charley made friends both above and be- 
 low, and had become quite a favorite with his division 
 commander ; consequently, his prospects for future ad- 
 vancement were very good, provided he escaped the 
 dangers to which he was exposed. 
 
 For Leon he had never felt any special feeling of 
 friendship ; in fact, they were too unlike in character 
 to be cordial friends ; still, he was Mollie's brother, 
 and that fact produced a kindly feeling on Charley's 
 part, which otherwise would never have existed. Then, 
 too, Leon seemed to feel the influence of the same tie, 
 and treated him with more consideration than he ever 
 showed to anyone else. This kept up a connection between 
 the two, although after the first year of the war, their du- 
 ties in different commands rendered their personal inter- 
 course less frequent than at first. No doubt, this added to 
 instead of decreasing the strength of the tie, as it was 
 less subject to the strain that would have been put on it 
 by Leon's unamiability. 
 
 E well's Corps, to which Charley belonged, had been 
 the first to cross the Potomac, and had formed the ad- 
 vance of Lee's army during the invasion of Pennsyl- 
 vania; w^hile Pickett's division of Longstreet's Corps, 
 to which Leon was attached, had been the last to leave 
 Virginia. Consequently, Avhen the act of concentration 
 brought the two commands together around Gettysburg, 
 it was natural that the former should seek the latter in 
 search of news from home. The disappointment, com* 
 
230 ''come on, i\rY brave VrnGiNiAXS." 
 
 bined with Leon's strange T^'o^els, and persistent asser- 
 tion that he (the hitter) vrouhl be killed in to-morrow's 
 battle, had its effect on Charlej^'s naturally hopeful tem- 
 perament ; and to the surprise of his comrades, for 
 once, the cheerful and usuall}^ gay-spirited Captain 
 Hurst was strangely silent and depressed. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 " COME ON, SIY BRAVE VIRGINIANS FOLLOW ME." 
 
 There was not much fighting done on the forenoon 
 of the third day. Early in the morning the Confederate 
 left under Ewell, was forced back from the advanced 
 position it had won the previous evening ; after which a 
 comparative quiet prevailed along the entire length of 
 the opposing lines. Under the cover of this inaction, 
 each side was preparing for the final r.nd decisive effort. 
 The Confederates concentrated all of their available ar- 
 tillery on Seminary Ridge and other points where it 
 would command the Federal centre, and the batteries 
 which protected that part of the defensive lines ; and 
 behind his guns, Lee formed his column of assault. He 
 had decided to strike at the enemy's best protected, 
 l)ut most vital part. About one o'clock, tl-^ Southern 
 artilleiy opened fire, which was promptly responded to 
 by that of the opposite side. For three hours the solid 
 hills shook and shivered with the shock of over two hun- 
 dred cannon ; their continuous discharge foiming a duel 
 of grand and magnificent proportions, but really inflict- 
 ing but little damage to either armj^ Towards four 
 o'clock this fact became apparent to the Federal com- 
 mander ; and moreover, that the smoke of his batteries 
 was filling the valle}^, under cover of which Ike rebels 
 could make an assault with better prospects of success. 
 Consequently, he ordered his fire to sh.cken, but for the 
 gunners to stand by their pieces, and be ready to turn 
 them against the Southern infantry, should they rppear 
 in the valle3\ This deceived the Confed( I'lle chief of 
 artillery, who reported to his commancU'r '' that the 
 Federal guns were silenced, and the time had come." 
 
 Soon, from t'\e fringe of timber and cloud of smoke 
 
BELLEVIEAV. 231 
 
 thnt crowned Seminary Ridge, there emerged a gray line 
 of battle, nearly a mile long. It was Pickett's division, 
 and a part of Hetli's, advancing to carry Cemetery Hill 
 at the point of the ba^^onet. Steadily, as if on dress 
 parade, they moved into their respective positions, and 
 into the valley, which was to be to so many of them the 
 ''valley of death." The silenced batteries of the Fed- 
 erals awoke to life, and more than one hnndred brazen 
 throats hurled defiance and death at the intrepid rebels. 
 Save a few stone fences, the three-quarters of a mile 
 they had to traverse, furnished not a particle of shelter 
 from the balls and shells, which fell amongst them with 
 unerring precision ; still they moved steadih^ forward, 
 sending a thrill of admiration even through their oppo- 
 nents' breasts at the heroism which necessity required 
 them to resist and destroy. They crossed the open val- 
 ley and began the ascent^ — now balls and shells were 
 changed to grape and canister, reinforced by the still 
 more deadly musketry fire, and great gaps were torn in 
 their lines — whole platoons went down before the with- 
 ering volleys — still tliey advanced. In places, the clos- 
 ing up had left wide intervals between regiments and 
 brigades, whilst elsewhere, not taking time for this man- 
 oeuvre, they kept on, an open, ragged skirmish line, 
 charging with the bayonet. They were veterans unknown 
 to defeat ; and not a coward's heart beat in all that 
 twelve thousand — their General had sent them to storm 
 that height, and his order must be obeyed. Amidst 
 the hailstorm of deatli, men and officers alike vied in 
 the rivalry as to who should be foremost, the most con- 
 spicuous object for the death-dealing balls. The charge 
 of the Old Guard at Waterloo, and of the Irish Brigade 
 at Fontenoy, must hereafter sink into insignificance, 
 wdien the name of Gettysburg is mentioned. One third 
 of their numbers had fallen, either wounded or dead, 
 and all hopes of success were vanishing ; but still, honor 
 required of the remainder to keep on — to die, but never 
 to stop until their task was performed, or the}', too, had 
 won a hero's death. It was their mission to make an 
 effort, though futile, which should henceforth command 
 the admiration of the world ; while coming Americans, 
 so long as America exists, will remember with pride, 
 that it was their forefathers who made the charge on 
 Cemetery Hill, n.nd their forefathers who met and re- 
 
232 "come on, my brave Virginians." 
 
 pulsed it ; both inspired with the same imcouquerable 
 courage. 
 
 The ahnost annihilated line advanced to the very 
 works ; aye, a part of them won, and with feeble shouts 
 of triumph, took possession ; but alas, from some fault 
 or other, they were not supported. From each side of 
 their horse-shoe line, the Federals swung fresh reinforce- 
 ments to drive them back, while, without intermission, 
 the storm of shot and carnival of death went on. To 
 win what they had was a herculean achievement, but to 
 hold it was impossible. AVhat could this skh-mish line 
 of victors do against the solid masses of enemies as de- 
 termined as themselves, but to retreat, or die in the 
 works they had captured? One, at least, of the Con- 
 federates, did not seem inclined to do either, for a blood- 
 stained figure, with one arm hanging limp by his side, 
 sprang forward some paces in front. 
 
 " We must drive them back farther," he shouted, with 
 sword waving above his head. " Come on, my brave 
 Virginians — follow me." 
 
 The words were lost in the din of cannons and mus- 
 ketry, but his men understood the meaning of the action, 
 and of the waving signal. These soldiers refused to 
 admit that their officers even, were braver than them- 
 selves, and consequent!}^, promptly attempted to obey 
 the order ; but before they could reach his side, in fact 
 while the sword was still waving, the officer made a con- 
 vulsive leap and fell to the earth. 
 
 The surviving remnant of the assaulting column? fell 
 back, or surrendered, and the Federal lines were re- 
 stored. Soon after dark an officer of the latter army 
 was passing along a little in the rear of that portion 
 which had been momentarilj^ in the possession of the 
 Virginia troops, when his attention was attracted by a 
 faint and piteous appeal for water. Stopping in re- 
 sponse to the cry, he ascertained that it came from a 
 wounded solder, Avhom, no doubt, the relief detail had 
 supposed to be dead. Stooping down, the officer gently 
 raised the head of the sufferer, and held a canteen to 
 his lips, at the same time calling to a squad of litter 
 bearers, who were passing near. 
 
 " Oh — thank God for that — drink," murmured the 
 wounded man in a faint voice, that sounded strangely 
 
BELLEVIEW. 233 
 
 familiar to the other. " I told you, Charley, that we'd 
 wiD — but — I Avould be killed." 
 
 The detail, oue of whom carried a lantern, approached, 
 and the Federal officer hastily seized the light, and held 
 it so the rays would fall full on the face of the one he 
 was supporting. 
 
 ''Great God!" he exclaimed, involuntarily letting 
 the head fall back on the ground, " it is Leon Gachet." 
 
 A spasm of pain crossed Leon's face, and his eyes 
 slowly opened. " Yes, it is I — Charle}- — and I told — 
 you how it would be." Then his eyes opened wide Avith 
 surprise, as he saw the faces bending over him. " How 
 is this — where am I ? " 
 
 Wyndship, the Federal officer, did not answer ; he ap- 
 peared to be struggling with the repugnance which had 
 caused him to remove his support from the other's head 
 the instant of recognition. At length the question was 
 repeated. 
 
 "Where am I?" 
 
 " You are badly wounded, and within our — the Union 
 lines," was the reluctant answer. 
 
 " Wasn't the Southern army victorious?" Leon de- 
 manded, with more strength and animation than seemed 
 possible for one in his condition. 
 
 ''That was impossible." 
 
 " My God ! Do you mean that we were repulsed? " 
 
 " Yes," Wjmdship answered coldly. "The Southern 
 troops were repulsed — those that were not killed, or cap- 
 tured." 
 
 The contortion in Leon's face now, was not caused by 
 physical suffering alone. Once his lips moved, but he 
 checked the words before they were uttered. No doubt, 
 he felt a strong desire even then, when he knew that his 
 life must soon end forever, to give the lie to the other's 
 assertion. At length his lips curled, and something like 
 a smile of scorn flitted over the drawn features, as 
 he retorted ; " Of course your side always claims the vic- 
 tory." 
 
 Wyndship did not reply — none was needed he thought, 
 besides, excitement was already having its effect on his 
 dying enemy, whose eyes quickly closed again, as if this 
 last effort of pride and defiance was too much for his 
 weakened condition. Then, too, his mind seemed to be 
 confused by conflicting thoughts and memories called 
 
234 "COME ON, :my brave Virginians. 
 
 up by the meeting ; nor did he seem to decide in his 
 mind what to do, until his attention was called by one 
 of the detail, inquiring if he wished the wounded rebel 
 carried back to the hospital. He then assisted the de- 
 tail in lifting Leon on the litter, and directed them where 
 to carry him, mentioning a surgeon's name, under whose 
 care he wanted him placed. 
 
 He stood and watched the party as they moved away 
 in the darkness, his mind and heart still the prey 
 of conflicting thoughts and emotions. He did not doubt 
 for an instant but what Leon had been his successful ri- 
 val with Elma Owens, and believed that she was now 
 his wife ; that she now bore his hated name. Believing 
 this,, their unexpected meeting had revived the memory 
 of the cruel wrong he had suffered at her hands, bring- 
 ing into vivid letters of light, the very words of that in- 
 solent and insulting note. The recollection of what he 
 had suffered that last night in Somerville ; aye, the old 
 pain itself was renewed, and its torture excited bitter 
 feelings of resentment against Elma, as well as Leon. 
 A resentment that was also accompanied with exulta- 
 tion, for was not death now acting as his avenger in de- 
 stroying his successful rival? Was it not inflicting on 
 her heart a wound something like the one she had so 
 ruthlessly dealt to his — holding to her lips the bitter 
 draught she had poured out for him? Truly, a formid- 
 able ally had taken up his cause, and was punishing the 
 heartless duplicity and egotism that had ruined his life. 
 The time had come for these two to suffer, and why 
 should he feel any pity or regret ? They had not spared 
 him in the past ; then, why should he make any effort to 
 alleviate the sufferings of one, or perform any service for 
 him that might palfiate the sorrow of the other? By 
 placing Leon in charge of the relief party, to be carried 
 to where the surgeons were at work, he had done all 
 that humanity demanded at his hands : aye, more, for 
 was he not doing a magnanimous act, in not letting him 
 remain to die alone on the battle-field, like many an- 
 othei better man was doomed to do that fearful night ? 
 Why,* then, should he care whether or not he received 
 the needed attention? 
 
 Such were the thoughts that crowded through his mind 
 as he stood and watched the disappearing litter, but still 
 he hesitated. Was it the better part of his nature ? the 
 
BELLEVIEW. 235 
 
 natural kindness of his heart — that resisted the argu- 
 ments? Or was it tht desire — the longing, after all he 
 had suffered, to hear once more from that village in 
 Georgia — from the woman, who, notwithstanding the 
 past, was still the one woman in all the world to him? 
 ^Yas it self-love and vanit}" that suggested, by a mag- 
 nanimous course, to heap coals of fire on those that had 
 wronged him? Or was it love and pity for Elma, a 
 wish to assist her, by assisting the one she loved — her 
 husband — in his dire extremity? Whether from one, or 
 from all these motives, it matters not, the better feeling 
 triumphed, and he hastened after the lantern, whose 
 liglit was faintly glimmering through the darkness. 
 
 The temporary field hospital, to wliich Leon was con- 
 veyed, was a farm-house, some little distance to the rear 
 of the Federal lines. The dwelling-house had long been 
 filled to overflowing with wounded, and the barn and 
 out-houses had also been utilized. The barn itself was 
 crowded when the party arrived, and the dim lights 
 fastened to the walls revealed a ghastly spectacle, with 
 its overflowing contents of moaning and writhing pa- 
 tients — a spectacle whose horror was not relieved by the 
 busy surgeons, with their blood-stained arms and instru- 
 ments. But the diviner attributes of humanity were 
 not wanting; pity and mercy were there, not only in the 
 shape of regular corps of hospital stewards and nurses,^ 
 but also in that of many volunteer assistants of both 
 sexes, from the people of the surrounding countr}^, who 
 had hastened to help repair the effects of " man's inhu- 
 manity to man ; " while here and there could be seen the 
 pure white cowl of a sister of charit}", ever devoted to 
 their work of mercy. 
 
 Crowding his way in, Wyndship soon found the sur- 
 geon he was seeking, and who was an old friend and ac- 
 quaintance. The latter readily complied with his re- 
 quest, and stooping down over the litter, made a rapid 
 examination of Leon's wounds. 
 
 " No chance," was all he said, rising to his feet, when 
 through. 
 
 " But, Doctor, can j^ou do nothing for him — is there 
 no hope ? " 
 
 The surgeon looked at the speaker inquiringly. " Is 
 he a connection or friend of yom*s ? I see that he is a 
 rebel oflScer." 
 
236 "COME ON, 
 
 " N — DO, only a — an acquaiutauce ; still, I would like 
 for all to be done for him that is possible, either to save 
 his life, or relieve his snfferings." 
 
 '* To save his life is impossible — at least, not at all 
 probable, and there are too man}^ of our brave fellows 
 who have a chance, needing my services, for precious 
 time to be wasted in what I must regard as useless ef- 
 forts. Still, his sufferings can be relieved somewhat ; 
 provided he does not die before he comes out of that 
 swoon. You might place him to one side, in a more 
 comfortable position, and in care of a nurse, to whom I 
 will give some medicine that will lessen his paroxysms 
 of pain." 
 
 Wyndship looked around, but saw no place in the 
 building that was not already occupied. The surgeon 
 had followed his gaze, and understood the thought. 
 
 " There is a little room, or stall, over there," he said, 
 pointing to the rear of the barn, "which, I believe, is 
 empty yet. You might take him in there." 
 
 The suggestion was accepted, and the still uncon- 
 scious rebel was carefully removed. An armful of straw 
 was obtained and shaken down in one corner of the lit- 
 tle room ; over this a blanket was spread, making a not 
 uncomfortable pallet. A sister of mercy accepted the 
 task of acting as nurse, and with kind and gentle touch 
 arranged the bundle of hay, which had been improvised 
 into a pillow. Having done all that circumstances per- 
 mitted for Leon's comfort, AVjmdship now deemed his 
 presence no longer demanded by the dictates of human- 
 ity ; and, inexpressibly pained and shocked by the scenes 
 of misery and suffering around him, gladly took his de- 
 parture. Before doing so, however, he left his name 
 and the location of his command with the sister, so that 
 he might be summoned should he be needed. 
 
 This latter precaution proved to be not unnecessary, 
 for in about an hour after returning to his post, a mes- 
 senger brought him the intelligence that the wounded 
 Southerner had revived, and had expressed a strong de- 
 sire to see him. His duties for the night were over, 
 consequently, he immediately complied with the re- 
 quest. 
 
 It was with strange and indescribable feelings that 
 Wyndship returned to the dying man. Was it to be his 
 duty to receive the last message from Elma's husband, 
 
BELLEVIEW. 237 
 
 for delivery to her? Was he about to be called on to 
 soothe the last hours of the one man he had hated above 
 all others — wipe the damp of death from his brow, the 
 blood}^ froth from his lips ? When all was over, and the 
 body laid away in a grave marked for future identifica- 
 tion, would it be his duty to write to her, giving a his- 
 tory of his death, and his last loving y>^ords? And when 
 this war was over, as it must be some day, and she came 
 to this historic field in search of his grave, would the 
 task of pointing out the place be his ? Could he do all 
 this? Impossible, he thought. The conviction that the 
 two were husband and wife was firmly impressed on his 
 mind, and he never once thought that there could be any 
 doubt of its correctness. 
 
 The sister was seated by the pallet of straw, softly 
 fanning the wounded man, who lay with closed eyes, 
 apparently asleep, or dead as Wyndship thought, when 
 he entered. Admonished by her warning gesture, he 
 stepped lightly forward, but this precaution was unnec- 
 essary, for instantly the eyes opened, showing even 
 more deeply black in contrast with the pallid face. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 LEON AND AYYNDSHIP. 
 
 " I HOPE you are resting easy, now?" said Wynd- 
 ship, assuming the post vacated by the sister on his ap- 
 proach. 
 
 ''As much as could be expected," Leon answered, in 
 a weak voice, but in an indifferent manner, which 
 showed that he regarded the question as a matter of 
 courtesy. 
 
 Wyndship moved uneasil3^ He was, possibly, in a 
 more uncomfortable position than even the sufferer ; nor 
 did the intense gaze fixed on his face tend to increase 
 his composure. He dreaded what was to come, and 
 longed for the interview to be over. To break the awk- 
 w^ard silence that followed these words, he turned to 
 the sister, who had not yet left the room, and inquired if 
 all had been done for the comfort and welfare of her pa- 
 tient that he had directed. 
 
 . \ 5-_ 
 
238 LEON AND AVYNDSHIP. 
 
 "Nothing can be done for me now," interposed Leon. 
 ''I am past iielp. I know that I am (h^ing — aye, knew 
 that this would be the end twenty-four hours ago. I did 
 not send to you for aid of that kind." 
 
 " You must not give up — possibly your wounds will 
 not prove fatal, and you may yet recover to return to 
 your — 3' our friends." 
 
 " I know that I am dying," repeated the other, impa- 
 tiently. " I expected to be killed in this battle, but lit- 
 tle thought that our army would be repulsed, and that I 
 would die a prisoner." 
 
 " Not a prisoner — we do not regard the wounded — in 
 your condition — as prisoners." 
 
 Waiving aside this disclaimer with a slight motion of 
 his uninjured arm, Leon continued : 
 
 '*But as such is the case, I have sent for you to ask 
 at your hands a favor that I expected Charley Hurst to 
 perform, had matters turned out as I anticipated." 
 
 " Anything that I can do for you will be — willingly 
 done." 
 
 '' At least, it will not be an unrequited favor, for I 
 must necessarily make an explanation that, I dare sa}^, 
 will amply repay you, not only for the trouble, but also 
 for the violence your feelings are now undergoing, in 
 expressing a sympathy and regret that you do not 
 feel." 
 
 These bitter words, and the meaning — almost sneering 
 — tone in which they were uttered, brought a flush to 
 Wyndship's face. AVhile he was hesitating what to say, 
 they were interrupted by the sister, who, after giving 
 him some instructions concerning the medicine, and 
 where she would be found when the interview was over, 
 retired from the room. 
 
 "I hardly know where to begin," resumed Leon, not 
 giving the other time to speak. " I little thought that 
 this explanation, for I do not intend it as a confession, 
 would be made to you, of all men — 3^ou, whom I have 
 hated as only men of m}^ nature hate those who have 
 robbed them of some cherished prize. I never dreamt 
 that this would be the end, or that circumstances could 
 induce me to tell you what 1 am going to relate ; but I 
 have reasons for wanting the truth knovrn, and I feel 
 assured that the revelation will not be any benefit to 
 you — will not assist you in regaining what you have lost. 
 
BELLEVIEW. 239 
 
 If I thought different, my lips would be sealed, no mat- 
 ter if a thousand hells confronted me." 
 
 He stopped and remained silent a few moments, as if 
 considering. AVyndship also remained silent, wondering 
 what could be the other's meaning. 
 
 " No, it will not do you any good — the uniform you 
 wear will prevent that. You will not have much the ad- 
 vantage of me, after all — we have both lost. The prize 
 is bej'ond j^our reach, as well as mine." 
 
 " What do 3"0U mean?" exclaimed Wyndship, with 
 ill-suppressed emotion— " what are you talking about? 
 What prize have we both lost? " 
 
 ' ' The one that we both desired above all things on 
 earth — that is, if j^our Northern blood had warmth 
 enough about it to love Elma Owens as she deserved to 
 be loved." 
 
 '' What — how have I — have we both lost her?" Not- 
 withstanding his efforts at self-control, Wyndship was 
 trembling all over with excitement. 
 
 " Ah, you are still in the dark — for more than two 
 years you have been in the dark, and — have suffered. 
 This thought has brought me the onlj^ joy — the only con- 
 solation I have felt for my own loss. You have suffered 
 — Yankee as you are, I know that 3^ou have felt the bit- 
 terness of disappointment — and of heart-ache, for Elma 
 Owens is one of those women that bring to the men who 
 love them, either the most perfect happiness, or the 
 greatest misery. I know that 3^ou loved her — that you 
 love her yet, for I see it in your face." 
 
 Unable to longer restrain his excitement, Wyndship 
 sprang to his feet, his face paling and reddening by 
 turns, with the storm of doubts, fears and passion that 
 the words of Leon had raised in his bosom. The latter 
 lay still and watched his rival's emotion with a smile of 
 enjoyment, and of satisfied malice, altogether out of 
 unison with his own pinched and pallid features. Even 
 with death so near, he evidently had not lost his love for 
 revenge ; nor was the consolation he claimed an idle 
 boast. Unable to raise himself from the blanket, and 
 with the grave yawning before him, he could still find 
 pleasure in probing his enemy's wound. 
 
 " And did you love her so much?" he asked, taunt- 
 ingly. '' Yes, I believe you did — even more than I, 
 possibly, for mine has almost — not quite — turned to 
 
240 LEON AND WYNDSHIP. 
 
 hate. Well, I will give j^ou some good news — -will make 
 you my debtor for the first happiness, I dare say, you 
 have felt for nearly three years. Your — love — was — 
 returned — I say it slowl}^, so that 3'ou can take it all 
 in." 
 
 F'or a minute Wj^ndship could have almost strangled 
 the helpless man at his feet. He believed that he was 
 cruelly probing his wound for the gratification of his 
 own hate and revenge, a conviction that was strength- 
 ened by the taunting tone and mocking smile. But a 
 change was coming over the latter, for he was too weak 
 for a long indulgence in this mood. The smile died 
 away from his face as he commenced again, more se- 
 riously : 
 
 '^ You don't believe me? Well, it is true, nevei"Che- 
 less. Did it ever occur to you that you had been cheated 
 out of your happiness by a — a trick ? " 
 
 " Great God ! do not try me too far. If j^ou are say- 
 ing all this to torment and tantalize me, understand now 
 that you can't inflict any greater suffering than I have 
 already endured. If what you tell me is true, and you 
 really defrauded me of my happiness b}^ some vile trick, 
 stop, or I'll " 
 
 '' If I did, what then?" cried Leon, defiantl3^ For a 
 short while, the two men glared into each other's ej^es ; 
 then Wyndship dropped back into his seat, helpless. 
 His enemy was beyond the reach of his vengeance. The 
 other's anger and defiance also soon died aAvay, when 
 this victory was assured, and a better expression came 
 into his face, as he watched his unarmed foe — unarmed, 
 he instinctively knew, by his own helplessness. 
 
 " Yes," he resumed, in an altered tone, that for the 
 first time during the interview, showed some appearanyce 
 of regret. "Yes, j^ou were cheated out of your happi- 
 ness ; and, unfortunately for my peace of mind, for 
 my honor, and my self-respect, I was the unconscious 
 agent of the fraud — the tool of a cunning and design- 
 ing rascal. To punish this person, and to foil him in 
 the further execution of his schemes, is why I make 
 this explanation — it is not from any love for you, as you 
 very well know. But I have much to tell, and I am 
 growing weak — my time is limited." In truth, his voice 
 had grown very faint, and the cold damp on his brow 
 had increased to drops of moisture. He made a gesture 
 
liKLLEVTEW. 241 
 
 towards Uie Lottie ofmcdicine, which ^Vyndship hastened 
 to obey, by pouring out and administering the prescribed 
 dose. This soon revived him, and at once, as if to 
 avoid the loss of precious time, he commenced again. 
 
 "I do not know what passed between you and Elma 
 Owens, only what was told me by another part}", and 
 what I surmised from an interview with her after you 
 left. I suppose, however, that j^ou made her a declara- 
 tion of love. Am I right?" 
 
 "SYyndship hesitated a little, and then nodded his head 
 in reply. Notwithstanding his late anger, he was all 
 anxiety now to hear Leon's story. 
 
 " You first thought that your love was favorably re- 
 ceived, but aftenvards had reason to think otherwise? " 
 
 No answer being returned to this, he continued : 
 " You sent her a bouquet of flowers the afternoon be- 
 fore you left, which was returned with an insulting note 
 of declination?" 
 
 Wyndship still remained silent, his face very white 
 and hard. 
 
 " The same day, you received a letter from home, tell- 
 ing you of your mother's illness? I ask these ques- 
 tions because my memory of that day's occuiTences is 
 somewliat indistinct, although the main points I remem- 
 ber onl}^ too well. I was — well, I was drunk." 
 
 '' Y'ou are right," answered AYyndship ; I did send 
 the flowers, and they were returned with such a note. I 
 did receive such a letter from home." 
 
 " Did it never occur to you that she did not write that 
 note — that she did not receive, or know anything about 
 the flowers?" 
 
 " Stop ! For God's sake tell me the truth — do not 
 tantalize me so." 
 
 For an instant the exultant light rekindled in the eyes 
 of the dying man, but he promptly continued : 
 
 " She did not — she knew nothing about it until after- 
 wards." 
 
 Wjmdship started up again, and his breath came quick 
 and fast. 
 
 "Did you do it?" 
 
 "AYere I a well man, that inquiry would cost you 
 your life, or lose me mine," cried Leon, defiantly. " I 
 could not resent that imputation from her, but I can 
 from you." 
 
242 LEON AND WYNDSIIIP. 
 
 The look, the munner, and the time were nil convinc- 
 ing, bnt without stopping to recall or disavow the sus- 
 picion, Wj-ndship demanded : 
 
 " "Who did — who was the person?" 
 
 *' Do you still believe that I did — that I wrote that 
 forgery?" 
 
 " N-no — I do not." 
 
 " Then I will tell you. The person's name was — Ar- 
 thur Slaton." 
 
 "The scoundrel," cried the other, with a blister- 
 ing oath that, possibly, had never before passed his lips, 
 *' I could kill him." 
 
 " I hope 3^ou will," Leon replied, almost gleefulh^ — 
 " that's partly what I am working for. But I am grov,'- 
 ing weak, and — must tell you all — all, for after that 
 speech, I want j^ou to know ever3^thing — all about it. 
 AVell, I was away from home at the time you were woo- 
 ing the girl I intended should be my wife — away at Mil- 
 ledgeville, where I got on a spree with some friends. 
 My father was also there, and to avoid him — to prevent 
 his knowing my condition — I left there and went to Ma- 
 con, intending to sober up, and then go home. Unfor- 
 tunately for this resolution I attended a champagne 
 supper, given by an acquaintance at the latter -place, 
 and, as a consequence, was still far from sober when I 
 arrived at IMilton, on my way home. There I met Ar- 
 thur Slaton, who oifered to carry me out to Belle view 
 next day, which, I believe, was Thursday. AYe went 
 to a hotel to spend the night, and occupied the same 
 room. As soon as we were alone together, he told me 
 about 5' on and Elma — what he had seen pass between 
 you in the boat, and that he was certain that it was a 
 declaration of love on your part, that was not unfavor- 
 ably received by her ; beginning with the warning, that 
 if I did not look sharp, the 'Yankee School Teacher' 
 would get away with the prize I coveted. Of course he 
 said a good deal more, and, no doubt, added much to 
 the truth. My mind was already heated by the wine I 
 had been drinking, and his tale, and the bantering he 
 gave me, set me on fire with jealous rage. I do not 
 know what 1 said and did, or exactly what passed be- 
 tween us, for I was too mad and drunk to remember 
 with acciu'acy, but he told me afterwards that I acted 
 like a madman — swearing that if his tale proved true, 
 
* BELLEVIEW. 243 
 
 I "would have your heart's blood, rather than she 
 should become j^our wife ; that I made such terrible 
 threats of vengeance that he became alarmed, fearing I 
 would put them in execution on sight ; and to prevent 
 blood-shed, and to quiet my passion, that he suggested 
 some stratagem by which you might be circumvented, 
 and driven from the countr3\ I remember his offering 
 me his assistance in canying out some plot to get rid of 
 you, but what that plot was I do not remember. I was 
 in no humor for such means, and told him that I could 
 manage you mj^self. Of course much more was said, 
 but this is about Avhat I recollect. 
 
 " I slept late next morning — after the usual breakfast 
 hour — but he got up early, and went around to the post- 
 office, which was kept by a cousin of his, to get any 
 mail for himself, or for his father's family that might be 
 lying there waiting for the Somerville hack. You re- 
 member that the mail was carried out to Somerville only 
 twice a week — on Tuesdays and Fridaj^s — and all mail 
 that came between those days had to lie over in the Mil- 
 ton office. Well, while there, his cousin showed him a 
 letter addressed to you, marked urgent on the envelope, 
 and he offered to carry it out to Somerville, and deliver 
 to you that day — at any rate, he got possession of 
 your letter. I was still in bed, trying to recall what he 
 had told me, and what had occurred the evening before, 
 when he got back. As soon as he came in the room he 
 pulled out a bottle of brandy and asked me if I did not 
 want a hot stew ; and as I was extremely nervous and 
 thirsty after my prolonged spree, I gladly accepted. 
 Well, he ordered up a kettle of hot water, saying that 
 he could beat any one in concocting that kind of a 
 drink ; but his real object became apparent when, after 
 making the stew, he coolly took your letter out of his 
 pocket, and holding it over the steam from the kettle un- 
 til the mucilage became moist, opened and proceeded 
 to read its contents. The letter was from your sister, I 
 think, or some friend in Pennsjdvania, informing you of 
 your mother's illness, and urging 3'ou to return home at 
 once. I did not pay any attention to Avhat he was 'do- 
 ing until he was through with the reading, when he told 
 me to cheer up, that ' this, ' holding np the letter, ' con- 
 tained information that Avould carry the Yankee back 
 Xorth in a hurry,' and that after you were gone it would 
 
244 LEON AND WYNDSIIIP. 
 
 be an easy matter to break np the connection between 
 you and Elma ; verifying what he said b}^ reading part 
 of the letter aloud. The audacity of the action shocked 
 and amazed me. ' How dare you commit so dishonor- 
 able an action, and so great a crime ? ' I demanded ; but 
 he only laughed at m}^ scruples, and said that he did not 
 regard any action as dishonorable that would help to 
 thwart the mercenary schemes of a Yankee adventurer ; 
 and that as its contents were so favorable to m}^ inter- 
 est, he would re-seal and promptly deliver the letter, v.nd 
 that no one but ourselves would ever be any the wiser. 
 I never knew what had been his first intention, but sus- 
 pected that it was to take out the original and substitute 
 some forgery of his own, requiring your presence back 
 North. This he could easily have done, as he was an 
 adept with the pen, and could imitate most any hand ; 
 but he never explained his plan to me, for I gave him to 
 imderstand that I did not approve, and would have 
 nothing to do with anything of the kind. I ought to 
 have cut his acquaintance right there, but he claimed 
 that it was all through his friendship and loyalty to me ; 
 besides, his brandy was strong, and after one or two 
 more drinks from the bottle I became utterly indifferent 
 to what he was doing. My mind was made up as to the 
 course I should pursue, and that was to provoke a duel, 
 so that I could kill you, or else force you to surrender 
 your pretensions to Elma's love." 
 
 The speaker here paused from exhaustion, although 
 the last sentence was uttered with a bitter emphasis. 
 
 " But the note," cried AVyndship, too much en- 
 grossed with the subject to notice the other's condition. 
 *' What about it?" 
 
 " I am coming to that," said Leon faintly. "Give 
 me time, and some more of that," motioning towards 
 the medicine. 
 
 Ashamed of his negligence, Wjmdship hastily poured 
 out and gave Leon a dose. Then resuming his seat, he 
 took the fan that he had allowed to drop. Rallying his 
 strength, the sick man soon continued : " Slaton carried 
 me out to Belleview, where we arrived about one or two 
 o'clock. No one was at home, as my step-mother, sis- 
 ter, and Elma had gone off somewhere to spend the day, 
 and did not return until night. The house servants had 
 also all forsaken the house for the quarter, as no one 
 
r.KLLEVIEW. 245 
 
 ex])ycted my return that day. Slaton objected to my 
 calling any of them, and drove his horse around to the 
 stables himself. ATe went in, and finding some cold 
 provisions, he soon appeased his hunger. As for my- 
 self, brandy and jealousy were food sufficient just 
 then. We had been in the house but a short time when 
 I heard a ring at the door-bell, and went out to ascer- 
 tain the cause. It was Mr. ^Martin's boy, Carlos, bring- 
 ing your flowers and note to Elma. The sight crazed 
 me — set ni}^ blood boiling afresh, and were it not for 
 the presence of the boy, I would have torn them to 
 pieces and stamped them with my foot. I carried them 
 into the library where Slaton was, and then gave way 
 to my wrath in no angelic manner ; I dare say the de- 
 mons of hell themselves would have been abashed by 
 my language. While I was striding the floor, cursing 
 the flowers and your impudence, as I termed it, he 
 coolly examined, first the floAvers and then your note. 
 ' This is the very thing we want,' he cried ; ' my dear 
 friend, you are indeed the favorite of fortune. Let me 
 manage this, and I'll guarantee that you will be troubled 
 no more by Wyndship.' I was not pa^^ng any attention 
 to his actions, but the remark caught my ear. 
 
 '* ' Yes,' I replied, ' in twenty-four hours he will 
 cease to be a lover of Elma Owens, or I will be a dead 
 man.' 
 
 " An idea had struck me how to provoke the quarrel 
 I desired, and that was, to return your gift with a note 
 over my own signature so insulting that 3^ou must needs 
 resent it with a challenge, or be forever branded as an 
 infamous coward. But weakness admonishes me that I 
 mast make my recital short. While I continued to pace 
 the floor, my heated brain engaged in arranging the in- 
 sulting words I intended to write you, Slaton had gone 
 to the table, and was engaged in writing. I went to 
 the same table, and soonhad my note finished. Y»^hafc 
 was its exact language I do not remember, but it was 
 just such that no man, with the least self-respect, could 
 swallow. He was through with his writing before I 
 was, and when I looked up, he said : ' We will return 
 these flowers in Miss Elma's name ; and in just such 
 terms that his pride will prevent him from seeking an 
 explanation. 
 
 *' ' How are you going to do that? ' I asked. 
 
246 LEON AND WYNDSHIP. 
 
 '^ ' Ob, I can imitate a lacl^^'s hand to perfection,* he 
 answered, ' and if this is not a fac-simile of her writ- 
 ing, he will never know the difference. This supposed 
 rejection, coupled with the letter he receives from his 
 sister, will send him back North in a huny, never to re- 
 turn.' He then read me the base forgery that you re- 
 ceived. The cool villainy he Avas displajnng, for the 
 minute completely dumbfounded me ; but not for an in- 
 stant did I entertain the rascally proposition. In fact, 
 I was thoroughly disgusted, notwithstanding the brandy 
 I had drank, and then and there determined that our in- 
 timacy should speedily end ; but I did not dream of the 
 double game he was playing ; first, to separate you and 
 Elma ; and then, wlien the trick was discovered, as it 
 undoubtedly would be soon, he expected, by good man- 
 agement, to keep his own complicity hidden, and let the 
 shame and opprobrium rest on me. By this means, he 
 would drive us both from the field — you understand? 
 
 " ' No,' I answered. ' I am not forced to adopt such 
 methods as that — this,' pushing my own production to 
 his side of the table, 'will answer my purpose.' I then 
 requested him to copy it — intending to preserve the 
 copy for my future use — and then to enclose that writ- 
 ten b}^ myself in an envelope directed to you, while I 
 went out in search of a messenger." 
 
 " And in your absence the scoundrel substituted his 
 production for yours ? " cried Wyndship, as the other 
 paused for breath. 
 
 " That is just what he did, as I afterwards found out 
 to my shame and disgrace. Well, soon after he left 
 Belleview, declaring that he could not take a part in or 
 countenance a course which would be sure to result in a 
 bloody meeting. Of course I cared nothing for that, 
 and immediately retired to my own room» determined to so- 
 l)er up ready for the hostile message from you I felt 
 certain would be the answer to m}^ note — the one the ly- 
 ing villain had retained. But the day and night passed 
 without your giving any sign ; and next day, when I 
 heard j^ou had left, I ascribed it to cowardice on your 
 part, proving that you were utterly unworthy of Elma. 
 I would have revealed the whole affair to her at once, but 
 for some agitation I thought she exhibited w^hen she 
 also heard of your sudden departure. This made me 
 believe that you had been more successful than I had 
 
BELLEVIEW. 247 
 
 hoped, and respect for her feelings — a disinclhiation to 
 wound her self-respect by revealuig the unworthiness of 
 the man she had honored with her regard, kept me si- 
 lent." 
 
 *' How did 3^ou find this out — the substitution of the 
 note, I mean?" 
 
 '' Ah, now comes your revenge. Shall I let you en- 
 joy it or not? I might as well, for you and Elma are 
 irrevocably separated, and it will cause an additional 
 pang of regret when you realize what a glorious woman 
 you have lost. What did you do with Slaton's note ? " 
 
 " I— I left it with Mrs. Martin." 
 
 "Ah ha! I think the scoundrel must have counted 
 on just such a result — it was a part of his deep-laid 
 scheme against us both. Well, she showed it to Elma ; 
 and, as a matter of course, the trick was discovered. 
 Between them, they traced the matter to me, which was 
 easy enough. I expect that Slaton thought that Elmn, 
 out of consideration for my family, would let the affair 
 drop when she became convinced that I was the guilty 
 party ; but she did not, and when I demanded an an- 
 swer to the proposal I made a week or two after you 
 left, she thrust his vile forgery beneath my nose, and de- 
 manded an explanation. 
 
 "This you gave?" 
 
 " No, I did not — she did not give me the opportunity. 
 Oh, her anger, her indignation, was sublime ; and she 
 was not afraid to express it — expressed it in such a way 
 that no Gachet had ever to listen to before. Her words 
 stung me like a thousand scorpions, until, unable to en- 
 dure her denunciations any longer, I rushed from her 
 presence, swearing eternal vengeance against her, you, 
 and especially against the man who had betrayed me into 
 so dishonorable j^ position. That night was the last time 
 I have ever seen her." 
 
 "But sureh' you wrote, explaining it all?" 
 
 " I have written, but only in the last few days ; and 
 — audit is here," motiouing towards his breast pocket. 
 " My object in seeking this interview — the favor I ask 
 at your hands, is its safe dL4ivery. Will you undertake 
 the mission?" 
 
 " Most assuredly I will." 
 
 "It is in the breast pocket of my coat — a package ad- 
 dressed to her. I feel easy in asking this favor of you, 
 
248 LEON AND WYNDSHIP. 
 
 knowing full well that it will not be a, disagreeable task. 
 Then, too, I want j^ou to see her again — to arouse into fresh 
 vigor all your old infatuation ; and — and I wont her to 
 know that you are an* officer in the ' Yankee army.' I 
 am plaj^ing for revenge all around ; and — and I will get 
 it. Even in death the Gaehets are never defeated." 
 Leon paused, panting for breath, his black eyes gleam- 
 ing with vengeful exultation. 
 
 "You think it strange," he continued, after a mo- 
 ment, " that I have w^aited so long without making an 
 effort to free myself from so false a position, but that is 
 because 3'ou do not know us — the Gaehets. She ought 
 to have known better than to even suspect me of such a 
 piece of villainy. The suspicion alone, Avithout her bit- 
 ter scorn and reproaches, was an insult almost past for- 
 giveness. A^hy should I care for the good opinion of 
 one wiio could think so meanly of me ? It is not for 
 love of her, or of 3'ou, that I am making this explana- 
 tion ; but it is the last chance I shall have for revenge 
 on Slaton, and to balk his little game." 
 
 "And have you never settled with him? " 
 
 " No — that night I failed to find him — the scoundrel 
 kept out of my way for months. When I did at last 
 succeed in obtaining an interview, the cowardly hound 
 swore — almost on his knees — that he did not intend it — 
 that it was an innocent mistake. I did not believe him, 
 but what could I do ? I could not kill a man wdio would 
 resent nothing — besides, he promised, voluntarily prom- 
 ised, to make the explanation to her, and assume all the 
 blame. I have waited for him to do this, but instead, 
 he is now in Georgia, a detailed commissary captain, 
 spending the time that belongs to his country in making 
 love to the woman who, if she knew the truth, would 
 spurn him as if he was a toad." 
 
 " She shall know it," cried Wjmdship, striding back 
 and forth across the narrow space, quivering all over 
 with anger and excitement. " She shall know^ it — I will 
 see to that — and besides, he will have me to settle with. 
 I will punish him for that day's work, no matter what 
 the cost may be." 
 
 " You intend to return to Georgia, then? " whispered 
 Leon, eagerly. 
 
 " Return? Do you suppose that anything, any ties, 
 any duties, any dangers could keep me away?" 
 
BELLEVIEW. 249 
 
 A curious smile came over Leon's pale face. 
 
 " Aye ! " he cried gleefully, although his power of 
 speech was almost gone ; " go. Go and take another 
 look at the woman you have lost— rat the prize out of 
 which Slaton has cheated you. The sight will do you 
 good. She is a true daughter of the South — of the 
 Southern Confederacy — and no matter how much she 
 may love you, she will never be your wife —will never 
 marry one who wears the Yankee uniform. My tor- 
 ment ends to-night — yours will continue — you have none 
 the advantage. But go ; the sight will do you good — 
 will increase your own regrets, and — will nerve your 
 hand to choke Slaton's miserable soul out of 
 his contemptible body. Go ; in all probability you will 
 find him seated by her side." 
 
 These words sent a chill through Wyndship's heart. 
 Was it true that she would now reject him on account 
 of his service in the Union army ? Had this explanation 
 come too late ? and was fate still pursuing him with her 
 relentless frowns ? Two years — two long and hopeless 
 years had passed, and possibly her love for him had died 
 out. Maybe there were some grounds for Leon's insinu- 
 ations that Slaton had, or was worming himself into her 
 regards. Was the unexpected happiness that had come 
 to him to-night only a deceptive " Will-o'-the-Wisp " 
 that Avould vanish almost before he could realize its 
 brightness? These thoughts made him sick at heart, but 
 they did not decrease his wrath. 
 
 '' Nevertheless," he hissed between his clenched teeth, 
 " I have a duty to perform. I must go to warn her — 
 to enlighten her, and — to kill him." 
 
 A sudden light blazed up in Leon's eyes, over which 
 the film of death was gathering. With almost super- 
 human strength, he half raised himself on his pallet, and 
 with his sound arm outstretched to giA'e emphasis to his 
 words, he gasped : 
 
 "Do this — kill him — kill the scoundrel, and my dying 
 prayer will be for God to strengthen your arm. Aye, I 
 
 could almost hope you " but the effort was too much 
 
 for his vital powers, and he dropped back exhausted. 
 
 " Here — in this pocket — the packet — give to " The 
 
 last of the sentence was never uttered. The bloody 
 froth oozed out of his mouth and nose, A few useless 
 gasps and sti'uggles, and — he was dead. 
 
250 MISERY OF CERTAINTY ALSO OF UNCERTAINTY. 
 
 "Wyndship sprang quickly to the door to call assist- 
 ance, and then back to the side of his late enemy ; but 
 Leon was beyond the reach of any earthly aid. His 
 proud, passionate, vindictive spirit had taken its flight 
 to the presence of his Maker. As he had lived, so he 
 had died, and so he must be judged ; unless a merciful 
 God will admit as extenuating circumstances the influ- 
 ences that had surrounded his life, and the traditions that 
 had come with his birth. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE MISERY OF CERTAINTY ALSO OF UNCERTAINTY. 
 
 Though travelling with as much expedition as the un- 
 settled condition of the country permitted, Wyndship 
 did not get home in time to see his mother alive. The 
 day before he arrived she died ; and only the cold, sense- 
 less clay of her who had been his truest friend and most 
 devoted lover, was left to greet his coming. This sec- 
 ond blow was too much, almost, for his reason to en- 
 dure. In one short week he had lost, everything that 
 made life desirable — every incentive to ambition, every 
 hope of happiness, and every tie of duty that bound 
 him to an earthly existence. Like one dazed by a blow 
 on the head, he followed her body to its last resting 
 place in the village grave-yard, scarcely conscious of 
 where he was, or from vrhat source had come all his 
 misfortunes. The extent of the disasters alone made 
 an impression on his paralyzed senses, swallowing up all 
 the details in the density of its cloud. Stupefied by 
 the shock, he lost all animation, all interest in surround- 
 ing objects, and passed by the friends and scenes of 
 his youth without a sign of recognition. One thought 
 he kept repeating to himself, as if it alone had fash- 
 ioned itself into a coherent shape amidst the confusion 
 of his mind — that fate had done its worst and could bring 
 no other trouble he needed to fear, unless it burdened him 
 with many years of life. If now it would only rid him 
 of this dread, he would ask of it no other boon. 
 
 But fortunately for his sanity, this condition could not 
 last always ; and after the first few weeks there came a 
 
liELLEVIEW. 251 
 
 change in the nature of his despair. He became ' rest- 
 less and dissatisfied with his quiet life at home, and 
 longed for a change of scenes, and for some excitement 
 which would shorten the long and tiresome days — which 
 would distract his attention from the misery, whose only 
 cure, as he believed, would be death. In obedience to 
 this feeling, he started west, hoping to find in its wild, 
 rough life, the desired panacea. 
 
 He was in Chicago when the first news of the bom- 
 bardment of Fort Sumter was telegraphed through 
 the North, setting the country ablaze with ex- 
 citement. Although not affected by this excitement, 
 still the news changed his plans. "Where, he thought, 
 could he more certainly find the distraction he was seek- 
 ing than in the anny ? And if it came to a war, where 
 could he find, in a speedier or more honorable manner, 
 the wished-for anod3me of death ? He stopped and hes- 
 itated ; not that he was debating the question with him- 
 self — the turmoil in his mind did not admit of his debat- 
 ing any question — but he hesitated, just as many an- 
 other ruined and hopeless man hesitates as to which 
 gin shop, AYhich gambling den, or which vile brothel he 
 would select as the pool in which to temporarily drown 
 tormenting memories. He did not flatter himself that 
 he was prompted by any patriotic motives ; still, this 
 sentiment, unconsciously to himself, did influence his de- 
 cision. For Elma he would have sacrificed his duty to 
 country, but this bribe was no longer offered, and if he 
 had no use for his life, at least his country was entitled 
 to the miserable remnant that was left. Consequently, 
 after a week's indecision, he returned home determined 
 to join some regiment of Pennsylvania troops. 
 
 At home his sister informed him that a short time 
 after his departure, a letter postmarked Somerville, 
 G-a., had come for him, and that, knowing that Omaha 
 was one of his points of destination when he left, she 
 had inclosed it with one of hers and forwarded it to that 
 point. He at once surmised that the letter was from 
 Mrs. Martin, but had no suspicion of the good news it 
 contained ; news of which, as it was never returned from 
 Omaha, he remained in unhappy ignorance until the bat- 
 tle of Gettysburg revealed it in a strange and unex- 
 pected manner. He wrote a short note in answer to Mrs. 
 Martin's, telling her of his condition and purposes ; reveal- 
 
252 ^nSERY OF CERTAINTY ALSO OF UNCERTAINTf. 
 
 ing his intention of forcing from fate a death on the first 
 battlefield; but this, as we have seen, also went astray. 
 
 The writing of this reply, and even the mention by 
 his sister of a letter from that village in Georgia, stirred 
 his bitterness to its depth, and made him all the more 
 eager to get away to the front. If as a soldier Wynd- 
 ship was not actuated by the highest patriotic motives — 
 motives that have produced heroes from every age and 
 people ; still, on the other hand, he was be^^ond the in- 
 fluence of the fear of death, and risked his life in bat- 
 tles with an almost insane recklessness. Still, fate de- 
 nied him the end he was seeking, carrying him safely 
 through storms of shot and shell, where it seemed im- 
 possible for human life to exist ; and bringing, instead, 
 the less valued boon of promotion. There also came a 
 reward that was still better ; a partial cure for the mor- 
 bid condition of his mind and heart. No true man can 
 devote all his energies to any cause that has a true or 
 apparent foundation in justice but what it will sooner or 
 later enlist his sympathies in its support. So with 
 him, the dormant spark of patriotism that he pos- 
 sessed at first, gradually grew, making him all the better 
 Union soldier, until at the time our tale has reached, he 
 had won by merit alone the rank of Major of volun- 
 teers ; and if the old wound was still unhealed, if the 
 future was still unlit by the rays of hope, if there was 
 no golden apple of future happiness hanging before the 
 eyes of his ambition ; yet duty had, in a measure, taken 
 the place of all these incentives. Obedience to the in- 
 junction, "Whatsoever thine hand findeth to do, do 
 it with all thy might," will prevent life with any one 
 from being altogether a vacuum. He had come to this 
 condition, when on the evening of that ever-memorable 
 July the third, he stumbled across the almost lifeless 
 body of Leon Gachet. 
 
 This meeting proved that the partial peace he had ob- 
 tained with the past was, after all, only a poor and mis- 
 erable truce. It was like tearing open with rude, unfeeling 
 hands, a wound that had commenced to heal, rendering 
 its second condition even more painful than the first. 
 No wonder that he momentaril}^ hesitated in giving his 
 aid to this enemy, whom he regarded as being in some 
 way connected with that note and return of the flowers. 
 No wonder that he felt such strong repugnance to an in- 
 
BELLi:\ ii:av. 253 
 
 terview iu which he expected to receive this enemy's 
 hist message of love to the woman who had wronged him 
 so cruell}^, but whose image was still deeply engraved on 
 the fragments of his heart. But it is often in the per- 
 formance of the most disagreeable duty that we receive 
 the greatest reward. 
 
 AYyndship had Leon's body decently interred, and 
 marked the place so that he could point it out to his 
 friends, should they ever desire to remove the remains 
 back to Georgia. He then wrote a short account of his 
 death and burial to his father, which he sent through 
 the lines by the first flag of truce. The packet for Elma 
 he did not send — he could not trust it to the chances it 
 must run of being lost on the way. No ; he had prom- 
 ised the dead man that it should be safely delivered into her 
 hands by himself in person, and this duty he must not 
 shirk. Besides, it presented a valid excuse for another 
 interview ; a privilege he both longed for and dreaded — 
 longed for because of the revival of all the old passion 
 in undiminished force ; and dreaded because of that 
 drop of bitterness which Leon had contrived to mix 
 with the good news he imparted. When he thought of 
 how this high-spirited girl, devoted to her cause, would 
 regard one bearing arms against her country, his judg- 
 ment or fears told him that this new hope would, after 
 all, prove only a deception. Still, with his past experi- 
 ence, he resolved not to take a dismissal again, except 
 from her own lips — no trick, no misapprehension should 
 ever come between them again. If she had forgotten 
 the old love, or if his serving in the Northern army 
 should prove the unpardonable sin, then — well, there 
 must some time come an end to all things. 
 
 It was easier to come to the resolution of going 
 in person to Belleview than it was to put it in execution 
 afterwards. True, he might resign his commission and 
 no doubt could safely work his way through the lines ; 
 nor did the danger he might run of being captured and 
 treated as a spy deter him from adopting this course. 
 Patriotism and conscience however, objected ; besides, 
 his sympathies had been enlisted with the Union side, 
 and it looked like a traitorous act to forsake his country 
 in this, the most critical time of the war ; an act which 
 he felt assured w^ould not raise him in her estimation. 
 These considerations prevented him from resigning, al- 
 
254 MISERY OF CERTAINTY ALSO OF FXCERTAIXTY* 
 
 though he knew in his heart that shonld she deniand of 
 him the abandonment of his cause, he would obey un- 
 hesitatingly, just as he did when Georgia seceded. 
 
 To wait until after the war was over was impossible ; 
 it might drag on for years, and there was no telling what 
 might happen in the meantime. No, duty called liim to 
 Somerville at the earliest possible moment — if for no 
 other purpose — to reveal Slaton's treacherj^ and to lay 
 Ibare his nefarious plots. He did not attach much im- 
 portance to Leon's insinuation that Arthur was likely to 
 he a successful rival, and after his first heat of anger 
 was over he no longer entertained the intention of taking 
 the rascal's life on sight ; still, he desired and intended 
 he should be punished, nevertheless. 
 
 The most feasible plan that presented itself to his 
 Judgment at first, was to secure an appointment on some 
 commission or cartel that might be sent inside the Con- 
 federate lines ; when, he thought, it would not be im- 
 i:)Ossible to make a hurried visit to Belleview. Adopting 
 this idea, he waited and watched for such nn opportu- 
 nity, but the fall passed without its coming, each day 
 making him more restless and impatient with the delay ; 
 a delay that it was impossible to foresee whether it might 
 end the next day or be prolonged indefinitely. 
 
 During the fall the advance of Rosencranz into Geor- 
 gia attracted his attention as probably offering the de- 
 sired opportunity should the campaign be successful ; 
 but before he could act upon it by securing a transfer 
 to that army, the brittle of Chickamiauga most effectually 
 destroyed this chance for the season. Disheartened and 
 impatient with a delay that grew more unbearable from 
 its tantalizing disappointments and uncertainties, he 
 had about made up his mind to adopt the quicker though 
 less honorable course of quitting the army, when Grant's 
 victory of Missionary Ridge put an entirely new aspect 
 on the condition of affairs in North Georgia. The con- 
 queror of Vicksburg had come to the front, and under 
 his bold and aggressive leadership there was a chance that 
 during the next campaign Atlanta might be made to 
 suffer the same fate as her sister city by the great 
 river. Besides, it was much nearer the " Mecca of his 
 hopes " than Virginia ; and if he decided on trying to 
 slip through the lines, the chances, lie thought, would be 
 bettfiifor success. Whether or not there had been any out- 
 
BELLEVIEW. 255 
 
 ward change in Wyndship's efficiency as a Union sol- 
 dier we cannot say, but undoubtedly in his heart there 
 was quite a revolution. He no longer desired success 
 for the good of his country" only ; he no longer calcu- 
 lated on the results of movements and battles as they 
 affected the Union cause simply ; but above these con- 
 siderations there was one of greater importance to him, 
 and that was to reach Belle view as soon as possible. A 
 victory that would hasten this event was of more im- 
 portance than the defeat of Lee's army ; and the occu- 
 pation of Central Georgia was more to be desired than 
 the capture of Kichmond. Influenced by these consid- 
 erations, he obtained a transfer to the army at Chatta- 
 nooga, and the spring of '64 found him serving under 
 Sherman, and with longing eyes, lit by other fires than 
 those of patriotism, looking anxiously southward. 
 
 
 CHASTE 
 
 if&kj^G^'THE GOAL. 
 
 One afternoon during the first part of the month of 
 December, 1864, a horseman was riding along the road 
 that led from the north by Belleview into Somerville. A 
 cold, drizzling rain had been falling during the day, and 
 although it had ceased, the clouds still obscured the sun. 
 Away to the west a streak of light gave promise of bet- 
 ter weather for the morrow, but overhead and around all 
 was cheerless and gloomy. The leafless branches of the 
 oak brush that lined the road looked dreary, the sodden 
 leaves at their feet scarcely stirred, while overhead the 
 sombre, dark-green tufts of the pines swayed and 
 moaned wdth doleful agony in the wintry w^ind. Even 
 the water-soaked sand of the road yielded with a soft 
 complaining splash to the horse's hoofs, as if meekly 
 murmuring against an unavoidable intrusion. Nature, 
 in sympatby with the time, had taken on its garb of 
 mourning — mourning for the desolation it could not 
 brighten, for the crime and misery it could not banish. 
 
 The mud splashes on the traveller's water-proof over- 
 coat, as well as the tired and bedraggled appearance of 
 his horse, showed that he had been riding all day ; but 
 
256 NEARIXG THE GOAL. 
 
 it was not weariness that caused those lines of anxiety 
 in the eager face. It was AYyndship on his waj^ to make 
 the visit upon which liis heart had been set for more 
 than twelve months past. It was with great difficult}^ 
 and only after a positive threat to resign, that he ob- 
 tained a leave of absence on the eve of the advance 
 from Atlanta. Hanging on to the rear of the right 
 wing of the Federal arnn^, he had followed its move- 
 ments until it had passed as near Somerville as it would 
 come, and then boldly struck off through the country 
 alone. By attaching himself to one of the marauding 
 detachments that spread desolation for miles on each 
 side of the main colunin, he might have greatly de- 
 creased the risks he was ruuningj but he had already 
 witnessed too much rapine and outrage to desire such 
 protection. His cheeks had too often burned with shame 
 at the disgraceful barbarit}^ which mnrked evei'y step of 
 the invading army — a barbarity which, in his eyes, 
 brought ignominy on a righteous cause — for him to accept 
 such company, despite the warnings of his comrades of 
 the danger he would run of falling into the hands of the 
 maddened rebels, smarting from defeat, and enraged at 
 the wholesale destruction of their homes. In one par- 
 ticular, however, he did unfortunately follow their ad- 
 vice, and that was to secure a suit of home-made jeans 
 clothing which was worn by all the Southern citizens at 
 that time ; but so repugnant did he feel towards assum- 
 ing anj^thing like a disguise, that he stowed this suit 
 safely away in his saddle-pockets, and continued to 
 wear his usual uniform. 
 
 The last ten months had been an extremely irksome 
 period to ^Vyndship. Like many of his brother officers, 
 at the beginning of the campaign he believed that the 
 battle of Missionary Ridge had so completely destroyed 
 the morale of the Confederate army in their front, that 
 no serious opposition could be made to their advance. But 
 Johnston's generalship soon converted the anticipated 
 pleasure-tramp through Georgia.into a very serious affair. 
 It was to be no May-day picnic, illuminated by the burning 
 of bridges and towns, and enlivened by the hanging of a 
 few bitter rebels. During all the checks and delays 
 that retarded Sherman's advance, he chafed with impa- 
 tience at the deferment of his hopes, and often oould 
 scarcely resist the desire to cut loose from the army, 
 
BELLEVIEW. l-H 
 
 and try to reach Somerville through the lines. The 
 longing to visit Belleview again, to reveal Slaton's treach- 
 ery, and to see Elma Owens once more, had driven every 
 other idea from his mind. He thought little of the 
 Union cause, and we fear would have cared but little 
 what the result of the campaign might have been, had 
 it not been indissolubly connected with his chances for 
 carrying out this private undertaking. Not that he had 
 lost all his patriotism and become a renegade in heart, 
 but this other purpose — this other passion — had overpow- 
 ered every other consideration. He had convinced him- 
 self that his mission was a sacred trust, for the purpose 
 of removing a stain from the memory of a dead man — 
 that it was a duty he owed to the woman he loved, and 
 who had once loved him — that the revealing of a villain's 
 treachery was a task in the interest of right and justice 
 which his hands alone could execute. This was what 
 he told himself, but there was another reason — another 
 impelling force more potent still. 
 
 And now he was approaching the Mecca of his hopes 
 — beyond the timber on the left Belleview would come 
 in view ; aye, already through the leafless tree-tops he 
 had caught a glimpse of the roof. His heart beat rap- 
 idly, the blood surged tumultuously through his veins — 
 his face became more anxious, the e3"es more strained 
 with eager anticipations and — sickening fear. Once 
 more his eyes would rest on that lovely face, his ears 
 catch the music of that voice — the sweetest music that 
 ever thrilled a human's hearing. And to clasp her hand 
 once more — surely, she would not refuse him that — she 
 might never forgive his being a Union soldier, might 
 look with scorn and contempt on the uniform he wore — 
 probably she had long since expelled all tender thoughts 
 of him from her heart ; but then, she would at least 
 grant him this favor — to touch her hand, and to hear her 
 voice. This itself would repay for all those years of 
 sorrow and waiting, for all the toil and. anxiet}^, for all 
 the dangers he was now risking, even were they tenfold 
 greater. After this, and after delivering into her hands 
 the packet Leon had entrusted to him, he would go on 
 his way, if not content, at least in resignation to what- 
 ever future fate might have in store. 
 
 "What was the matter with his horse ? Was he sick — 
 had he given out? Had his limbs become wood, his ten- 
 
^58 NEARING THE GOAL. 
 
 dons rotten strings, that he could only move at a snail's 
 pace? Oh, the suspense, growing more cruel as the 
 minutes grew fewer ! Oh, the turmoil of hope, doubt, 
 joy, and despair ! The strip of woodland was passed, 
 and there was the lawn with its tree-lined avenue, the 
 vine and shubbery-embowered house. There was the 
 gate leading in from the road — but wide open — and — 
 what is that? A cavalry-man in blue uniform, nodding 
 in his saddle, evidently an unreliable vidette. 
 
 Wyndship started and glanced quickly around, but no 
 other soldier was in sight. The blue overcoat did not 
 mdicate with certainty to which army the sentinel be- 
 longed, for many of Wheeler's cavalry wore the same, 
 and it would have been hard for our hero to have de- 
 cided just then which he would have preferred him to be. 
 If to the Federal army, it might mean pillage and out- 
 rage at Belleview ; if to the other, capture and Ander- 
 sonville for himself. But neither of these considera- 
 tions caused him to check his horse's gait. Nodding and 
 reeling in his saddle, th^ sentinel was evidently too 
 sleepy or — something else — for the important duty he 
 w^as performing, and was entirel}^ oblivious of any one's 
 approach until a movement of his horse, which came 
 near unseating him, recalled his wandering senses. As 
 quickly as his befuddled condition would permit, he 
 cocked and attempted to level his carbine on W^mdship, 
 who, in the meantime, had almost reached his side. 
 
 " Haltsh (hie). Haltsh, I shay (hie) — who goes 
 there?" 
 
 But Wyndship had him already covered with his pis- 
 tol, and in threatening tones that meant business, or- 
 dered him to *' di'op that gun." The threat and the 
 menacing muzzle acted like a charm in clearing his 
 mind sufficiently to realize the necessity of obedience, 
 and the gun came down. 
 
 "What command do you belong to ; and what are you 
 doing here? " 
 
 In answer, the man named a regiment of Federal 
 cavalry, and stated that he had been left at the gate as 
 a vidette by his squad, who had gone up to the house. 
 He was not so drunk but what he recognized some of 
 Wyndship's outfit as that of a Federal officer, and re- 
 lieved of his fear of *' Johnnie Eeb," answered the oth- 
 er's questions freely and with drunken indifference. 
 
BELLEVIEW. 259 
 
 "While the brief colloquy was going on, they were inter- 
 rupted by the sharp report of a fire-arm in the direction 
 of the house. 
 
 ^'That shouuds (hie) like a scrim " but the re- 
 mark was cut short, for driving his spurs into his horse's 
 flanks, Wyndship darted through the open gate and up 
 the avenue. The little gate in the hedge was also wide 
 open, and through it he went without abating his speed, 
 his eyes fixed on a scene being enacted around the door- 
 steps. Standing about in the gravelled walks and on 
 the flower beds were four cavalry horses, only one of 
 which was mounted. Two men were struggling with 
 Colonel Gachet on the steps, while another was holding 
 back a girl, who, with shrieks of horror, was endeavor- 
 ing to reach and grasp the pistol which was threatening 
 the old man's life. One glance had been sufficient to 
 show him that this was only a repetition of those scenes 
 that had so often of late brought a flush of shame to 
 his cheeks — an old man endeavoring to guard the sanc- 
 tity of his home, and to protect his family from insult 
 and outrage. 
 
 *' Hold ! " he shouted. " Stand back— stop, I say." 
 
 The noise of his horse's feet had already warned them 
 of his approach, and the three had instinctively released 
 their victims and sprung toward their horses, but stopped 
 when they saw he was alone. 
 
 J' What means such conduct as this? "he cried, his 
 Yoice hoarse with anger and indignation. *' How dare 
 you? " and springing from his horse he hastened to place 
 himself between them and the steps. 
 
 '' Boys, there's only one of 'em, *n' I guess he's a 
 rebel," said the one on horseback, reassuringly to his com- 
 rades. " We can pretty quick fix him, and then make 
 the old man tell where his gold and silver is, or jest fin- 
 ish up our job," he continued, making ready with his 
 gun. By one swift glance Wyndship ascertained that 
 neither Mollie nor the Colonel had been seriously in- 
 jured, and then again faced the squad. 
 
 *' How dare you commit such outrages as these?" he 
 demanded. 
 
 '' I don't know that it's any of your business, young 
 man," retorted one, who seemed to be the leader. 
 
 *'It is my business, and I will also make it my 
 business to see that you are severely punished for this." 
 
2 GO NEARiXG THE GOAL. 
 
 "The hell yoii will." 
 
 " What command do you belong to?" 
 
 "We'd like to know what command you belong to 
 first, young * cock of the walk.' " 
 
 Choking with rage, and painfully conscious that his 
 threat of punishment was taken at its true value, even 
 if he was a member of the staff of a prominent corps 
 commander, Wyndship changed his tactics. With one 
 hand he unbuttoned his waterproof overcoat and threw 
 back the folds, so as to reveal the uniform he wore, while 
 with the other he cocked his revolver. 
 
 "I am Major Wyndship," he cried, " of General 
 Howard's staff." 
 
 " Phew ! " ejaculated the other in an altered tone. 
 
 " And," he continued, leveling his revolver at the lead- 
 er's head, "I give you just two minutes to get out of 
 this yard." 
 
 *'Beg pardon. Major," answered the soldier, with a 
 half-drunken leer, which he intended as conciliatory. 
 
 *' We didn't know you officers were getting so d d 
 
 particular 'bout how we treated these old rebels — ^we 
 wus only trying to make him tell where his money 
 was." 
 
 " Leave here," thundered Wyndship, " or I'll shoot 
 you down like a dog. Leave here at once — I'd be do- 
 ing my country a service to rid it of such a disgrace as 
 you — you cowardly thief." 
 
 The habit of obedience to superiors, or the deter- 
 mined face and threatening revolver, or all together, had 
 their effect, and with sullen looks and smothered curses 
 the marauders proceeded to obey. Leading his horse by 
 the bridle, and with pistol still levelled on the hindmost 
 one, Wyndship followed them down the walk and out of 
 the little gate. Here they were joined by four or five 
 others, who came round from the direction of the horse 
 lots and quarter. There was shown some inclination 
 towards insubordination when thus reinforced, and the 
 order to leave had to be repeated before the counsel of 
 the soberer ones prevailed, and they reluctantly moved 
 off down the avenue. Wyndship watched them pass out 
 into the public road and out of sight, and then, hitching 
 his horse to a post, returned to the house. The inmates 
 had disappeared into the interior, but as he approached 
 the steps Colonel Gachet came out on the porch. His 
 
BELLE VIEW. 201 
 
 form, that had become bent and decrepit by sorrow and 
 anxiety, was now drawn to its full heighth, while the 
 faded eyes flashed anew with rage and indignation. He 
 held in his hands the double-barrel shot gun which had 
 been wrested from him by his late opponents, and seem- 
 ingly ignoring Wjmdship's presence, began scanning 
 the shubbery and the lawn for his enemies. 
 
 " Colonel Gachet," said the young man, anxiously, 
 " I hope you nor none of your family have suffered any 
 personal injury? " 
 
 " My wife fainted, sir, during the — the disturbance, 
 and is now suffering somewhat from nervous excitement. 
 I am unharmed, and so, I believe, is my daughter." 
 
 " I am truly glad to hear it, and hope Mrs. Gachet 
 will speedily recover from this shock." 
 
 The Colonel bowed stiffly, his eyes overlooking the 
 speaker who stood on the ground, in their search for the 
 others. Interpreting the look, Wyndship said, reassur- 
 ingly : 
 
 ' ' They are all gone — they will not disturb you 
 again." 
 
 ' ' Ah ? Are you certain ? " 
 
 "Yes. I saw them all safely into the public road." 
 
 " Then, sir, I regret it ; I have one load still in my 
 gun, and would desire nothing better than to expend it 
 in showing them how an old citizen of Georgia can de- 
 feud his home and family." 
 
 The absurdity of the threat was obscured by the in- 
 tense earnestness with which it was uttered. It was also 
 obscured, as far as his auditor was concerned, b}^ the 
 awkwardness of his own position — he did not know but 
 what he too might l)e refused admittance. 
 
 "I regret far more than I can express that you nnd 
 3"our family have suffered intrusion and indignities from 
 that rabble, and am truly thankful that I arrived at such 
 an opportune moment." 
 
 " It is nothing more, sir, I believe, than has been the 
 fate of thousands of other peaceful families in this 
 State ; only we have come off much better than the ma- 
 jority ; but it fires my blood to think that I, a free citi- 
 zen of this country — I, who have spent many years in 
 the service of the ' Stars and Stripes' — should, in my 
 old age, have to defend the sanctity of my home and 
 
262 NEARING THE GOAL. 
 
 fireside against such base robbers, wearing the uniform 
 I once so highly respected." 
 
 "All armies naturally draw tlie viciously inclined, 
 who seize every opportunity for plunder," said "Wynd- 
 ship, with increasing color. 
 
 " And yours, sir — 3- our vaunted Union ^rmj — seems 
 composed principalh^ of that material, judging from the 
 horrible scenes beiug enacted throughout our State. 
 When I belonged to the army, the American soldier 
 claimed to be a gentleman." 
 
 " I hope and believe that the majority of them are 
 gentlemen yet." 
 
 " As it has not been our good fortune to meet with 
 any of that character, we must judge by what we have 
 seen." 
 
 Wyndship bit his lips in mortification. He had come 
 expecting a cold reception, and had determined to en- 
 dure even insults until his mission had been accom- 
 plished, but when it came to the test his sensitive spirit 
 chafed more than he thought. Without an invitation 
 now, he could not possibly enter those doors. The old 
 man's passion was subsiding, however, and probably 
 permitted him to perceive something of what was pass- 
 ing in the young man's mind, for controlling his excite- 
 ment by a strong effort, he said, with a touch of his old- 
 time courtesy : 
 
 " I should make one exception, Mr. — I beg pardon — 
 Major Wyndship. From what I know of you in the 
 past, and from what I have seen this evening, I estimate 
 you very differently." 
 
 " Thank you for the good opinion. I " 
 
 "What surprises me most, sir," interrupted the 
 Colonel, " is that an honorable gentleman like yourself 
 should be in command of such wretches." 
 
 " I beg j^our pardon— I am not commanding them." 
 
 " I am glad to hear that, sir, and I doubt not but 
 what those you do command are kept under better dis- 
 cipline." 
 
 " I have no command, I came here alone." 
 
 "Ah!" ejaculated the Colonel in surprise, and in 
 still better humor. Then, as if suddenly- remembering 
 his want of politeness, he stepped down towarJ. the vis- 
 itor with extended hand. " Excuse me, Mv. — Major 
 Wyndship, I am ashamed of my rudeness, but l — I did 
 
BELLEVIEAV. 263 
 
 not intend it towards 3^011. Your — that sqtiad of ruf- 
 fians so enraged me, tliiit I — I forgot ni^^self. Walk in, 
 sir — ^walk in. You are a welcome visitor to Belleview." 
 
 Before they reached the hall -door Mollie came out of 
 her mother's room, pale and excited. 
 
 "Oh! father," she exclaimed — " Elma — Tony saj^s 
 those Yankee — Union soldiers went off in the direction 
 of Mrs. Hall's. Elma will meet them. What shall we 
 do?" She hardly looked at AY^mdship, although she 
 extended her hand in greeting. " She will be coming 
 home, and — " But her father did not wait to hear any 
 more. With some incoherent words, addressed to no 
 one in particular, he grasped his gun and started down 
 the steps as fast as his old legs would carr}^ him. 
 
 " What?" cried Wyndship, aghast. " In Heaven's 
 name. Miss Gachet, you do not mean Elma — Miss Ow- 
 ens is away from home, and — alone?" 
 
 '' Oh, yes," she exclaimed, wringing her hands in an 
 agony of suspense, "she went to Mrs. Hall's to-day, to 
 see Johnnie, who is wounded. We thought all danger 
 from the Yankees was past. She will be coming home 
 alone, unless Captain " 
 
 Again her sentence was cut short for the want of an 
 auditor, for Wyndship as abruptly followed the Colonel's 
 example. Down the walk to his horse he ran, passing 
 the latter on the way, to whom he shouted his purpose of 
 going to Miss Owens' assistance. To unhitch and to 
 mount was the work of an instant, and without a 
 thought of the tired animal beneath him, he used his 
 spurs unmercifully. Past the gate and down the road 
 which he knew led by Mrs. Hall's residence, he went at 
 full speed, but which to his excited apprehension, now 
 when moments had become hours, seemed no faster 
 than a snail's pace. The feelings that were excited in 
 his brain by the first sight of the bummers at Belleview 
 were nothing to what Avas raging in his heart just now. 
 In imagination he could see Elma, unprotected, in the 
 power and at the mercy of the drunken rufiiaus, subject 
 to insult and — and to worse ; and ruthlessl}^ he drove 
 the spurs into his horse's panting sides, peering anx- 
 iously around every corner, and over every rise in the 
 road. The distance was short, and was being rnpidly 
 passed, despite the anxiety which made his movements 
 seem so slow ; over the next rise, and around the next 
 
264 JOHNNIE hall's present of service. 
 
 turn, and Mrs. Hall's would come in sight. If Elma 
 would only remain there until the squad had passed — 
 they would certainly be in too great a hurry to rejoin 
 their command, which had already passed in the direc- 
 tion of Savannah, and too much afraid of the vengeance 
 of the Confederate cavalry that might be following them 
 up, to dare to make any more raids on private families. 
 But it was growing late in the afternoon ; the sun would 
 soon set — and then, too, Mollie said Elma would be com- 
 ino- home. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 JOHNNIE hall's PRESENT OF SERVICE. 
 
 The last hill, or " rise" in the road was reached, 
 and the gradual ascent was quickly being overcome, 
 when his eyes, peering eagerly over, beheld a sight that 
 for an instant seemed to congeal every drop of blood in 
 his veins ; and the next to send it in lava streams to the 
 very tip ends of his fingers. At the same time his eci'S 
 caught the sounds of rude and boisterous words and 
 laughter. The same squad that he had driven from 
 Belleview were grouped around a couple of riderless 
 horses in the road (one of which bore a lady's saddle), 
 all occupied in watching and commenting on the ma- 
 noeuvres of their leader, who, swearing with eveiy 
 l)reath, still was evidently afraid to close in on his prey. 
 Back in a corner of the zigzag rail fence stood Ehna, 
 one hand holding a pistol levelled on the drunken brute. 
 The shouts and jeers of his companions urged him on in 
 the execution of his purpose, but even his whiskey-be- 
 fogged brain understood the expression of the flashing 
 e3^es and pale, determined face in liis front too well to 
 dare the venture forward. The deep wet sand had 
 muffled the sound of Wyndship's approach ; besides, the 
 mirth of the crowd was too noisy, and their attention 
 too much engrossed by the amusing tableaux tkat was 
 being rehearsed for their entertainment, for their atten- 
 tion to be easily distracted ; consequently, he was al- 
 most in their midst, before they noticed his approach. 
 At first sight, he had di*awn and levelled his revolver at 
 
 % 
 
BELLEVIEW. 265 
 
 Elma's assailant, but as he drew near he changed his 
 intention, and raising it high above his head, he brought 
 it down on that of the scoundrel with a force that felled 
 him to the earth. The party, taken couipletel}^ by sur- 
 prise, gave way before him ; and, although they drew 
 their carbines, did not attempt to interpose in their 
 leader's behalf. 
 
 Reining in his horse, and paying no attention to the 
 others, Wyndship sprang from his saddle and to the side 
 of the girl. 
 
 " Oh, Elma — thank God, I was in time." 
 
 A cry of joy escaped her lips as she recognized her 
 rescuer, and then, for the first time in her life, she 
 fainted away. Catching her as she fell, he strained her 
 form closer to his heart in an ecstasy of joy and thank- 
 fulness ; but soon recollecting himself, when he saw that 
 she had fainted, he dropped on his knees, and support- 
 ing her head on one arm, called to the nearest soldier : 
 
 " Bring me some water — bring me that canteen 
 quick ;" pointing to the one tied to the fellow's saddle. 
 
 The squad, partly from curiosity, and partly from 
 other motives, had ranged themselves around the two, 
 and were again becoming interested spectators of the 
 scene, although their looks did not now indicate near so 
 much amusement as before. They recognized him as the 
 officer whose interference had prevented their intended 
 robbery at Belleview ; and consequently, a part of them 
 at least, regarded him with no friendlV eyes ; still they 
 hesitated to attack him, or to interfere 'in behalf of their 
 leader, who still lay unconscious where he had fallen. 
 Even their corrupt and hardened instincts told them 
 that his punishment was not undesei-^^ed. Besides, like 
 brutes who are slow to attack a man who shows no fear, 
 Wyndship's utter indifference to their likes, or dislikes 
 m the matter, had a tendency to cow them into neutral- 
 ity. _ ^ 
 
 " Brmg me that canteen, I tell you," repeated Wynd- 
 ship, m a tone that overcame the 'hesitation the soldier 
 was showino-. 
 
 Hastily forcing out the stopper, our hero commenced 
 sprinklinor its contents over Elma fnce, when he discov- 
 «i'ed that it was whiskey, and not water. With an im- 
 pi'ecation against the 'stuff, and all that drank it, he 
 iiurled the canteen to one side, and thundered at the fel- 
 
266 JOHNNIE hall's present of service. 
 
 low to get him some water, and to "be quick." Pos- 
 sibly the offending liquor proved as efficacious as the 
 more innocent fluid would have done, for before his last 
 order was obeyed, Elma opened her eyes. When she 
 again recognized the face bending over her's, and 
 became conscious of what had transpired, a soft, 
 happy blush spread over her face. During that 
 short moment each one might have discovered 
 a truth in the eyes of the other ; that the love of the 
 past with each had endured through the years of 
 separation ; that it had survived absence and misunder- 
 standings ; that no apology, pardon, or explanation 
 would be needed on either side. But another expression 
 came over her face as she remembered, more fully, all 
 that had just happened, and hastily freeing herself from 
 his arms, she cried : 
 
 " Oh ! beware — defend yourself — they will kill you ! " 
 
 "Don't be alarmed — no danger of that," he an- 
 swered, not even looking around. " They attack old 
 men and unprotected women ; not armed men like my- 
 self." The last words were uttered with a scornful em- 
 phasis for the benefit of the soldier who had approached 
 again, this time with water. " But you have not re- 
 covered entirely — you have suffered some injuiy, I fear? 
 Had you not better lean on my arm for support ?" And 
 not until she declared herself fully restored and un- 
 harmed did he turn his attention to the lowering faces 
 around him. 
 
 " I wish to explain. Major," said the one who had 
 brought the water, and who appeared to be the soberest 
 and most respectable looking one in the party, " that I 
 had nothing to do with the assault on the j^oung lady, or 
 on the old mam." 
 
 "You were present here, at least. Why didn't you 
 interfere to protect her?" 
 
 "Lieutenant Blufkins there is my superior officer," 
 pointing to the one Wyndship had knocked down, and 
 who was now making some feeble efforts towards sit- 
 ting up. 
 
 "What? That scoundrel a commissioned officer in 
 the Union army?" 
 
 " Yes, sir. And — and I had no power to stop him." 
 
 " No power ! Where is your right arm? You had its 
 power j and the right of a freeman to raise it against 
 
BELLEVIEW. 267 
 
 any one, no matter what is his rank, in the protection of 
 an American lady. What did you say that fellow's 
 name was?" 
 
 " Lieutenant Blufkins." 
 
 "What regiment?" 
 
 " The — th regiment, Kilpatrick's command." 
 
 "And tliis is the way you fight your country's battles, 
 eh ? This is the kind of service you are rendering your 
 cause ? Drag j'our precious Lieutenant away before I 
 am tempted to kill him ! Tie him on his horse, and re- 
 join your command at once. If he is not able to travel, 
 leave him ; the quicker he falls into the Eebels' hands 
 the better it will be for the Union cause. And remem- 
 ber, all of 3'OU, that I will see to it that your com- 
 mander knows all about these outrages." 
 
 The soldier turned to obey, and then stopped. 
 
 " Well, what is it ? " demanded Wyndship, impatiently. 
 He longed to get them out of Elma's sight, and to be 
 with her alone. 
 
 " There was a man accompanying the young lady, and 
 who we are holding yonder as a prisoner, and who we 
 suspect to be a Rebel officer. " 
 
 AVyndship glanced in the direction the man pointed, 
 and started violently as he recognized the countenance 
 of Arthur Slaton, being contorted, now that he was look- 
 ing at him, into the sickly smile he so well remembered. 
 
 " Bring him here ! " he said, filled with exultation, as 
 he thought how completely he had the scoundrel in his 
 power. 
 
 Although pale and trembling with fear, Slaton clung 
 heroically to the old deceitful smile. Holding out his 
 hand, and throwing as much cordiality and conciliation 
 into his manner as fright would allow him to assume, he 
 exclaimed : 
 
 " My dear Mr. — Colonel Wyndship — what a pleasure 
 — how rejoiced I am to meet you again ! I — I — noth- 
 ing could give me greater happiness !" But the latter 
 did not notice the hand, or reply to the greeting. 
 
 "What did you intend doing with — with your pris- 
 oner?" 
 
 " We were going to take him to headquarters." 
 
 "Oh, but I am a non-combatant!" cried Slaton. 
 ' ' You will not — surely you will not make a prisoner of a 
 
268 JOHNNIE hall's present of service. 
 
 — of a peaceful mun like mj^self ? Colonel Wynclship, in 
 the name of our old friendship, I appeal to you ! " 
 
 But the latter — the dear old friend — had turned a 
 shoulder and a very deaf ear to his appeal, although he 
 did not turn far enough to hide the contempt and loath- 
 ing in his face ! 
 
 Now thorouglily frightened, as he thought of Fort 
 Delaware and Rock Island, Slaton turned elsewhere for 
 aid. "Oh! Miss Elma," he cried, beseechingly, "I. 
 know you'll intercede for me with our brave rescuer ! He -; 
 cannot deny you — " 
 
 But the " brave rescuer " here cut short his appeal. 
 He could not bear the idea of Elma interceding for this 
 man, so he did not give her the chance. TurniE^" 
 quickly to the soldier, he said, contemptuously : 
 
 " Turn him loose. What do you want to make him a 
 prisoner for ? If all the Southerners were like him this 
 war would have been over long ago. Besides, you Avili 
 be in luck to get 3^ourselves safely to headquarters, with- 
 out being burdened by him. Wheeler's cavalry will 
 make you all prisoners, without an accident." 
 
 This last sentence had a perceptible effect on those of 
 the marauders who were sober enough to appreciate its 
 meaning — Wheeler and his cavalry having established a 
 bad reputation with their kind. 
 
 " They are taking my horse. Colonel — they are taking 
 my horse ! AYon't you make — be kind enough, to make 
 them leave me my horse ?" 
 
 "Leave Mr. Slaton his horse," ordered Wyndship ; 
 and then, turning his back to the crowd, he gave all his 
 attention to IClma. Ascertaining that she felt able to 
 ride he proceeded to assist her to mount, w^atching 
 anxiously all the while for any signs of weakness or ex- 
 haustion, although she insisted that she had fully recov- 
 ered. He was turning to his own horse, when she ex- 
 claimed : 
 
 " Oh ! I have lost something ; I have dropped my 
 — my pistol." 
 
 Going back, he found the weapon partly hidden 
 among the dead leaves that had drifted into the corner 
 of the fence. As he picked it up something about the 
 make and finish looked familiar, and he turned it over 
 iu his hand for a closer inspection. She saw the action, 
 
BELLEVIEW. 269 
 
 and a blush overspread her face. Holding out her hand, 
 she said, quickly, if not impatiently : 
 
 " It is mine — give it to me, please." 
 
 He glanced up, and the blush quickened his memory, 
 carrying it back to the Christmas party at Mr. Martin's. 
 
 "Excuse my curiosity," he softly apologized, step- 
 ping close to her horse's side, and, as he gave up the 
 pistol, he managed to gently press the hand that re- 
 ceived it. 
 
 "I prize it very highly," she answered, with a 
 woman's natural perverseness, " because it is a present 
 from one I esteem very highly — Johnnie Hall." 
 
 Wyndship was too happy just then, however, to be 
 troubled by any jealousy towards his old pupU. Hastily 
 mounting his horse, he anticipated Slaton, and placed 
 himself by her side. " YVe will soon be alone together," 
 he thought, " for after all that has transpired Slaton will, 
 assuredly, have the grace to take himself oft somewhere 
 and not intrude his presence during the ride home." He 
 had so much to say— his heart was full with love and de- 
 votion that he longed to express in words— and every 
 moment now was precious. With his present intentions 
 It was necessary for him to hurry back to his command, 
 and his time and opportunities would be far too short 
 for half he wanted to say ; therefore he enviously be- 
 grudged every moment that was passed in the presence 
 of others. In expecting to get rid of Slaton, however, 
 he " reckoned without his host," for the latter kept them 
 close company all the way back to Belleview ; and, dis- 
 mounting at the gate, entered the house as they did. In 
 fact, it looked as if he was clinging to Wyndship for pro- 
 tection, and dared not get an arm's-length away. The 
 latter found some consolation, however, by decidino- on 
 a revenge that, he thought, would partly repay for the 
 hateful intrusion. Face to face with Elma, his rascality 
 should be revealed, and our hero imagined that her 
 withering scorn would surely penetrate through the 
 armor of assurance that shielded his craven spirit At 
 the door, Wyndship and Elma passed into the hall 
 together, while Arthur was detained a moment by 
 Colonel Gatchet's inquiries as to what had occurred. 
 Seizing his opportunity, the former said : 
 
 "Miss Elma, I have come to Belleview expressly to 
 see you on a matter of very great importance to myself, 
 
270 JOHNNIE hall's PRESENT OF SERVICE. 
 
 and possibly of some interest to you. Moreover, it 
 is also in compliance with a promise I made to Leon 
 Gachet when dying ; consequently, I must ask you to 
 grant me a private interview before I leave. Knowing 
 that you must be sadly in need of rest after what 5^ou 
 have just gone through, I will gladly await your own 
 time — until you have fully recovered." 
 
 Sht looked up quickly, and asked with some eager- 
 ness : " Is it a message from Leon?" 
 
 " Yes — no, not a message exactly, but a package." 
 
 " I will be down to the parlor in a few moments, Mr. 
 Wyndship." 
 
 The Yankee Major's reception at Belleview was quite 
 different this time from what it had been a few hours be- 
 fore. From Mollie he received a smile of gratitude as 
 she accompanied her friend np-stairs ; Mrs. Gachet, 
 though still nervous and trembling, came out to welcome 
 and to tiiank him for his gallant interference in their be- 
 half,- while the Colonel himself was everything that was 
 courteous and hospitable. The animosity that had been 
 engendered by the marauders' attack had given way to 
 a high appreciation of Wyndship's conduct ; a feeling 
 that became almost enthusiasm when later, through 
 Mollie and his wife, he heard Lima's version of hca* res- 
 cue. 
 
 In a short while supper was announced, and the inter- 
 view with Elma was necessarily postponed until after it 
 was over. Slaton still remained, and stuck as close to 
 Wyndship as if there was no safety except in his imme- 
 diate presence. During the meal the latter still further 
 ingratiated himself in the good graces of his host by an- 
 nouncing his intention of resigning his commission in 
 the Union service. He had come to this determination 
 without waiting to know what were Lima's feelings on 
 the subject, or how she would receive a renewal of his 
 suit, other than he had been able to judge through love's 
 secret telegraph. He was resolved that no obstruction 
 Avhich he could remove should come between th^^m ; be- 
 sides, he felt assured that the war was virtually over, 
 and that peace would soon be established. Patriotism, 
 he thought, did not require him to sacrifice his happiness 
 for a cause that no longer needed his services. The 
 Colonel eagerly jumped at this announcement, and of- 
 fered him at once, his house as a home until his rcsigna- 
 
feELLEVIEW. 271 
 
 tion could be sent in by a flag of truce ; stating that he 
 felt confident that he had influence enough with the Con- 
 federate authorities to prevent his being molested. To 
 this, however, Wyndship demurred. 
 
 "That course would hardly look honorable, would 
 it?" he asked. "People would say that I resigned to 
 save myself from prison." 
 
 As a man of honor himself, the Colonel could not 
 gainsay this view of the case. 
 
 " Then," he said, " while I would be glad to have 3'ou 
 with us longer, I must advise you to leave early in the 
 morning. Tony reported to me late this afternoon — 
 during 3^our absence in rescuing Elma — that a force of 
 Confederate Cavalry were only a short distance beyond 
 Somerville, and were coming this way. The negroes 
 somehow keep wonderfully well posted, and I regard his 
 information as being worthy of attention. Of course 
 while you are my guest I shall protect you at any cost 
 to m3^self , and will only be doing my duty ; but if they 
 get past you it will make your chances of regaining the 
 Federal lines very precarious." 
 
 " I am sorry to hear that news. I intended spending 
 part of the morning, at least, with Mr. and Mrs. Mar- 
 tin, and will not feel right to leave without seeing 
 them." 
 
 A chorus of dissent arose from each side — ' ' He 
 must notthinli: of running such risks," etc. In fact, his 
 safety had become a matter of paramount importance to 
 this Southern family. All this was very pleasant to 
 Wyndship, but gall and wormwood to Slaton, who hated 
 him all the more, not only on account of the former's un- 
 concealed contempt, but also for the injury done him in 
 the past ; just as every wrong-doer hates his innocent 
 victim. Moreover, he also feared him, as his presence 
 at Belleview was dangerous to the success of his schemes 
 and reputation. He believed that Wyndship was still 
 ignorant of the trick that had been played on him, but 
 a private interview between the two lovers would result 
 in an explanation, and this must be prevented if pos- 
 sible. His fright, while in the hands of Blufkin's party, 
 had been excessive, seeing nothing before him but a 
 Northern prison, and possibly death. The recognition 
 of Wyndship did not lessen this fear at first, but the lat- 
 ter's scornful generosity soon relieved his mind, and 
 
275 WYNDSHIP DELIVERS LEON*S PACKAGE. 
 
 with a returning sense of personal security came also his 
 old impudence and assurance. His enemj^'s indifference 
 deceived liim as to how much he knew of the old forg^ 
 er}^, and he quickly decided in his mind thnt " the game 
 was not yet lost," provided he could prevent a private 
 interview between the two lovers. Consequently, he re- 
 solved to remain at Belleview as long ns Wyndship did, 
 which, thanks to his lucky star, could not be long. As 
 he could shed hints, rebuffs, and insults, like the plumage 
 of a duck does the raiji, the canying out of this resolu- 
 tion would not be an impossible task. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 WTNDSHIP DELIVERS LEON's PACKAGE. 
 
 After supper, Mollie, like the dear little soul that she 
 was, manoeuvred to place the two lovers in the parlor 
 alone. In this she was successful with every one but 
 Slaton, who was deaf to all hints and inuendos, remain- 
 ing valiantly at his post. By doing so he was uncon- 
 sciously playing directl}^ into Wyndship's hands. The 
 hour for the rascal's punishment had come, and as soon 
 as the three were alone our hero proceeded to administer 
 it unsparingly. Elma had taken a seat on one side of 
 the fire-place, Slaton rather on the opposite side, while 
 he stood between the two, but not so as to obstruct their 
 view of each other. 
 
 ''Miss Owens," he said, commencing in a ceremonious 
 manner, which, however, did not last long, " I requested 
 of you a private interview, stating that I had something 
 to say which I believed would be of interest to us both. 
 'With your permission I will avail myself of the present 
 opportunity." 
 
 Elma flushed slightl}^ and glanced uneasily at Slaton, 
 who remained stolidly in his seat. Ignoring the glance 
 and its meaning, and suppressing a smile of satisfac- 
 tion, the speaker continued: 
 
 '' I have a package which was entrusted in my care to 
 deliver to you in person, but before doing so, I will re- 
 fer to an incident in our past that will serve as an ex- 
 planation." He then, in brief words, but in the clearest 
 
feELLEVlEW. ^7S 
 
 language, referred to what had passed between them in 
 the earl 3^ part of 18G1, and to the relation they held to 
 each other at that time. 
 
 '' Oh! Mr. AVyndship," exclaimed Elma, springing to 
 her feet, a bright color reddening hoth face and neck ; 
 " I, too, have an explanation to make, but had we not 
 better wait — sometime when we are alone ? Surely, Cap- 
 tain Slaton will excuse ns ? " 
 
 That gentleman was not prepared for such heroic pro- 
 ceedings on Wyndship's part,' and now arose, and with a 
 sickly smiled stated that as he was in the way, he would 
 retire. 
 
 "Pray be seated, Captain — I insist on it — what I 
 have to say does not retider your presence undesirable." 
 
 Slaton hesitated, but a look and gesture from Wynd- 
 ship decided him, and he sank back in his seat looking 
 anything but comfortable. The latter, turning to Elma, 
 whispered ; " Pardon this seeming outrage on your feel- 
 ings of modesty, but really I have an object in desiring 
 his presence, which I dare say j^ou will see and approve 
 of before I am through." 
 
 With a confidence born of perfect love, she resumed 
 her seat, and waited with downcast eyes for what was i<^ 
 come. 
 
 The speaker resumed his relation, but when he came 
 to the return of the flowers she again interrupted him. 
 
 " I never received the flowers, or — or your note. I 
 did not write that — that one which you received. I knew 
 nothing about it until after you left." 
 
 By this time Slaton surmised what was coming, and 
 with a confused explanation about some engagement he 
 had forgotten, arose and started for the door. The 
 other, however, was watching him, and by quicker move- 
 ments reached and locked it before he could carry his in- 
 tended flight into effect. 
 
 " What do you mean?" he cried, with a faint attempt 
 at bluster. 
 
 " That we cannot possibly spare you just yet ; " and 
 returning to the surprised Elma, Wyndship laid the key 
 on the table by her side. 
 
 " The package I have to deliver is about that note, 
 and when I tell you that I am prompted by the desire to 
 clear the memory of one that is dead from an undeserved 
 stam in your estimation, and to fix the blame on the real 
 
274 WYNDSHIP DELIVERS LEON^S PACKAGE. 
 
 criminal, you will pardon my strange procedure." At 
 these words Elma uttered a smothered exclamation, and 
 glanced from the speaker to Slaton. All the latter's as- 
 surance had vanished, and he looked the very image of 
 apprehension. But Wyndship gave neither time to 
 speak. 
 
 *' I was with Leon Gachet when he died, and his last 
 moments were spent in explaining to me the circum- 
 stance that is explained to you in this package. There 
 was never any love between us — he was my enemy to 
 the last — but was an honorable foe, at least. He did 
 not write that note, as you thought. While intoxicated, 
 he took upon himself the responsibility of returning the 
 flowers in his own name, and in his own handwriting 
 and over his own signature wrote me a message of insult 
 and defiance. Urged on by drink and jealousy, he took 
 a high-handed course, but intended nothing underhand 
 or dishonorable — his object being to provoke me to a 
 duel with himself. While he stepped out to secure a 
 messenger, this — this person, who was with him at the 
 time, substituted the vile forgery which I received." 
 
 '' That is not true— that is a 1—" But Slaton did 
 not finish the word. A motion and a look from Wynd- 
 ship choked it back and changed his tone. "There is 
 some mistake," he whimpered. 
 
 " That person," continued our hero, with his finger 
 pointed at his cringing victim, " wrote it. That person 
 imitated your handwriting and forged your name, and 
 during Leon's temporary absence from the room, of his 
 own volition, and for his own purposes, betrayed his 
 friend's confidence by slipping it into the envelope that 
 Leon thought contained his own message of defiance." 
 
 " Oh, there is some mistake — I swear to Heaven — 
 there is some mistake ! " 
 
 "All this is explained in this package, I suppose. 
 Leon, it seems, from a false sense of pride, and relying, 
 probably, on this fellow's promise to explain all to you, 
 allowed you to remain under the false impression that he 
 was the guilty one ; but some time before he received 
 his death wound he wrote out a statement of the truth. 
 This he had about his person when I found him, mor- 
 tally wounded, on the battlefield of Gettysburg; and 
 now, in compliance with my promise to him — his last ex- 
 
'■ BELLEVIEW. '2i^ 
 
 pressed wish on earth — I deliver it to you," laying the 
 well-worn envelope in her hands. 
 
 "Oh! I am so glad," she whispered; "so glad for 
 Mollies, and his father's sake." 
 
 " I beg you — I implore you. Miss Elma," pleaded 
 Slaton, in a faltering voice, approaching nearer, " not 
 to condemn me without a hearing. There is some mis- 
 tate — some plot to — " again a look from "Wyndship 
 changed his words. " Leon was crazy — :he was not in 
 his right mind when he wrote that — when he told that 
 tale ! " 
 
 Slowly, as if against her inclinations, Elma looked up 
 from the envelope in her hands to the wretch before her. 
 Her bosom heaved and her lips opened, but indignation 
 and contempt were evidently too great for words. For 
 a moment her eyes blazed forth hot flames of scorn and 
 loathing, which seemed to scorch and wither the wretch 
 upon whom they rested, and then — she turned her back. 
 
 Taking up the key, "Wyndship unlocked and opened 
 the door. " Captain Slaton," he said, with a low bow, 
 and with a mocking smile on his face, " we can now dis- 
 pense with 3'our presence — with the pleasure of your 
 company — and will permit you to retire, I think now 
 that we are about even — you have given me years of 
 misery ; but my revenge is complete. I would not re- 
 ceive such a look as that from Elma Owens' eyes for a 
 thousand worlds." ^Vith a cry of rage, the baffled and 
 humiliated rascal fled from the room. 
 
 Left to themselves, it did not take the lovers long to 
 clear up the past ; in fact, that had already been done, 
 and no further explanation was necessary. Elma made 
 no attempt to hide her feelings, but bravely confessed 
 that she had continued to love him throughout the separ- 
 ation ; but plead as he ma}^, he could not induce her to 
 renew the promise to become his wife. Here she was 
 obdurate, clinging to the idea that patriotism and duty 
 must come first, even at the sacrifice of happiness. She 
 told him that all her prejudices and sympathies — all her 
 affections, outside of her love for him, were enlisted in 
 the Southern cause. That, never expecting to meet him 
 again, she had enthroned her countr}^ as her idol ; and 
 how could she forsake it now, in its darkest hour of 
 trial? 
 
 " I don't ask you to forsake j^our country, nor your 
 
276 WYNDSHIP DELIVERS LEON S PACKAGE. 
 
 cause," he pleaded. " I will be couteut for you to re- 
 main the strongest little rebel in the South. This ques- 
 tion must not come between us." 
 
 " But it has already come between us, and cannot be 
 helped. It will always be between us, for I cannot ask 
 you to forsake your principles, neither can 1 give up 
 mine." 
 
 " Cannot we agree to disagree — to suppress — to 
 banish this question, as far as ourselves are concerned? 
 Why should we bother about it ? " 
 
 ''Oh! you do not know how we, the people of the 
 South, feel — how dear to us this cause has become ! Our 
 hearts, our hopes of happiness, our existence itself, is 
 linked with its fate ; and how can I marry one who has 
 been fighting against — who, I know, has been one of its 
 bravest enemies ? " 
 
 " But I will fight against it no longer — I am going to 
 return to the army, only to resign. Besides, the war 
 is almost over. All the bravery of j^our troops, all the 
 skill of your generals — and I am willing to admit that 
 neither can be excelled — can not save the South from 
 ultimately returning to the Union." 
 
 ' ' Do you believe that — that the South will be con- 
 quered ? " 
 
 " Yes; she is overpowered, and, I believe, about ex- 
 hausted. One more campaign will certainly decide the 
 issue, and — against you." 
 
 " If that be true, ifr makes our union all the more im- 
 possible." 
 
 " Why?" he cried, impatiently. 
 
 ''Because we are in a great measure ruined now, and 
 if we fail in establishing our independence the wreck 
 will be complete. Nothing will be left us — possibly not 
 even the homes we hold so dear. How^ could I let you 
 blight your brilliant prospects by marrying me — one of 
 her poverty-stricken daughters ?" 
 
 " I do not waut to marry you for your property ! I 
 thought you understood that ; it is yourself that I want. 
 If you hadn't a dollar in the world I would be all the 
 better pleased." 
 
 " I believe that," she said, softly, as if afraid to trust 
 ker voice. She no longer dared to lift her eyes for fear 
 he would see the tears, or they would betray the pain 
 she was suffering. " I believe that, but as a brave oflS- 
 
BELLEVIEW. 277 
 
 cer who has triumphed over his enemies 3-011 will return 
 to your home at the North, and a grateful people will 
 gladly reward your services. Your talents, aided by a 
 brilliant war record, Avill soon lift you into places of 
 prominence and honor. You must not resign ! I can- 
 not let you sacrifice all this for me." 
 
 "But I have no prospects — I have no ambition that is 
 not connected with you. Without you the future is a 
 blank — is worse than a blank, for the very thought is 
 un supportable." 
 
 " You will get over this." Her voice sank still lower, 
 also her head, for the tears were creeping out from their 
 prison. 
 
 " Never ! Have I not tried? After nearly four long 
 years of separation, the greater part of which was spent 
 in tr3'ing to banish all thoughts of you from my heart, 
 my love is only stronger, deeper, more absorbing than 
 ever. To forget ^-ou, to cease to love you, is unpossi- 
 ble, and you have no right to ask it of me." 
 
 " I cannot ruin 3-our life," she cried despairingly, and 
 then broke down completely. The sight of her tears 
 was too much. Clasping her in his arms, he exclaimed 
 impetuously : 
 
 " I will not take ' No' for an answer. You shall not 
 ruin mj' life and yours with such false notions of duty 
 — nothing on earth shall ever separate us again." 
 
 Was success at last about to reward his persistence ? 
 Had she given up, seeing that she made no immediate 
 efforts to release herself from his arms? If so, fate, 
 for the present, denied him the satisfaction that knowl- 
 edge would have brought, for just then the sound of 
 footsteps in the hall warned them that some one was en- 
 tering. 
 
 Quickly disengaging herself from his clasp, Elma 
 sprang to her feet. Turning deathly pale, and trembling 
 in every limb, she cried : 
 
 "Oh! 3'ou are in danger. The3^ will capture 3^ou — 
 will kill 3^ou, maybe. Oh ! what must 3'ou do — where 
 can 3"ou go ? " She looked around for some avenue b3'' 
 which he could escape, and then rushing to one of the 
 windows, with desperate eagerness tried to undo the 
 fastenings. 
 
 Wyndship laughed joyfully to himself, and catching 
 her hands in his, stopped her efforts. 
 
278 WYNDSHIP DELIVERS LEOX's TACKAGE. 
 
 '' Don't be frightened — I'm in no danger. I have 
 known but one fear lately," he added, " and that was, 
 that you had ceased to love me. That fear is gone, and 
 I am confident that the Providence who has been so kind 
 will shield me from all dangers now. That is no enemy 
 that we need to fear." He looked as if he did indeed 
 believe himself to be surrounded by an invulnerable 
 shield. This time h's faith was not misplaced, as the 
 door opened to admit Doctor Hurst. 
 
 "Mr. Wyndship," he said, in his friendly, straight- 
 forward way, "I am truly glad to see you ; " verifying 
 his words by a cordial shake of the hand. He took a 
 seat, and a few minutes, friendl}^ talk, in which there 
 was no allusion to the war, passed between them. 
 Then the Colonel came in, and much to Wyndship's dis- 
 comfort, the events of the afternoon had to be retold 
 for tlie Doctor's edification ; and if the latter's enco- 
 miums were few in words, still the young man understood 
 and appreciated the warm approval in his eyes. But, as 
 .usual, the Doctor was in a hm-ry. Some soldier's sick 
 family claimed his attention, and friendship, and per- 
 sonal comfort must give way to what he considered his 
 duty to them. Rising to leave, he said : 
 
 " I heard a few moments ago that 3'ou were here, and 
 called by to see you, and also to tell you that some of 
 Wheeler's Cavalry were in the neighborhood. Harris's 
 regiment is camped for the night at the old camp-ground, 
 four miles west of Somerville. I did not know how you 
 were fixed as regarded papers, and thought it would be 
 best to tell you." 
 
 Wyndship's thanks were interrupted by his host, who 
 said : 
 
 "We must get Major Wyndship off early in the morn- 
 ing. It is very important that he escape capture." He 
 then added, in reply to the interrogation point in his 
 neighbor's eye : " He returns to the Federal army only 
 that he may resign his commission and receive an hon- 
 orable discharge." The Colonel was very much inter- 
 ested in this matter. For the young man himself, he 
 had felt a kindly feeling in the past, to which was now 
 added a keen sentiment of gratitude. But this was not 
 all ; the enemy was about to lose a brave soldier, and, 
 the South have one less to combat ; consequently, as 
 rabid a rebel as he was, he would have risked his own 
 
feELLEVTEW. 279 
 
 life and reputation rather than have the young Yankee 
 molested. Tiie Doctor also looked pleased, and possibly 
 threw a little extra fervor into the hand-clasp as he bade 
 him good-bye. 
 
 No opportunity was given Wyndship during the eve- 
 ning to renew his pleadings with Elma. The family re- 
 turned to the parlor, and did not leave it until bed-time. 
 That charge at Gettysburg must be described, and the 
 incidents of Leon's death — a theme of which his host 
 could never tire — must be retold. This consumed the 
 remainder of the evening, but just before they broke up 
 he opened the piano, and requested Elma to sing. 
 
 *'l have quit singing anything but rebel war-songs," . 
 she answered, " and j^ou would not like to hear them." 
 
 "You are mistaken — I would like ever so much to 
 hear you sing one." 
 
 Did she feel that she had been too easily overcome by 
 love — had come too near a surrender of the principles 
 wliich she had decided must prevent her from becoming 
 his wife, and now wished to recover some of the lost 
 ground — to apprise him that her decision was irrevo- 
 cable? After a little hesitation, and without another 
 word, she took her seat at the instrument, and soon the 
 whole room was ringing with those inspiring words : 
 
 ♦* You have the sword of the Lion's Whelp, 
 The God of the Maccabees." 
 
 There was no affectation or pretense of feeling either in 
 manner or voice ; but she threw her whole passionate 
 soul into that greatest of all war- songs. It's heroic 
 sentiments had been hers entirely for the time, and she 
 s-aig it as if she had been transformed into the special 
 Goddess of the Southern Confederacy, and was calling 
 on its people to make one grand, supreme effort in the 
 cause of freedom. The influence of her inspiration was 
 all pervading, and tliere was not one among the few 
 listeners whose heart did not throb with the same tu- 
 multuous fire that was thrilling hers. When she fin- 
 ished, a moment's perfect silence followed, as the echo- 
 ing refrain died awny. Slowly she turned towards her 
 lover, her face deathly pnle, biit with eyes glowing with 
 the spirit of high resolve and self-immolation. 
 
 " That is the battle-cry of the South," she said. " We 
 are not con :|uered yet. Good-night." 
 
S80 WYNDSHIP 
 
 As the influence died away, the remembrance of that 
 pale, resohite face, and speaking eyes, remaiiK^d to tor- 
 ment him thronghout the night. Was he destined to 
 lose his happiness after all? Would she sacrifice her 
 heart as well as his on the altar of her patriotism and 
 supposed duty ? Would love of country, devotion to a 
 hopeless cause, be stronger than her love for him? Ah ! 
 his late boast, that now he had no fear, was being 
 quickly refuted. 
 
 After a night, of which only a small portion was spent 
 in sleep, Wyndship was summoned by Tony at early 
 dawn. Coming down to the breakfast-room, he found 
 Elma the only member of the family in waiting. It was 
 very evident from her pale cheeks and hollow eyes, that 
 she, too, had spent a wakeful night, learning by experi- 
 ence that patriotism will not supply tlie place of love, 
 and that the approving whispers of conscience for prin- 
 ciples maintained and duty performed will not always 
 recompense the human heart for the loss of happiness — 
 will not always cure the sting of misery. 
 
 '' Colonel Gachet is not well this morning," she said, 
 " and Mollie requested me to make his excuses. He re- 
 ceived a hurt yesterday, while struggling with the sol- 
 diers. He did not notice it last evening — because of 
 the excitement, I suppose — but does not feel able to rise 
 this morning. Mrs. Gachet is also feeling unwell, and 
 Mollie is with them. All three asked me to give you 
 their adieus, and wishes for a safe trip and — and a 
 speedy return." 
 
 They took seats at the table, and Elma poured out his 
 coffee. Notwithstanding the want of an appetite, it was 
 a very enjoyable meal to Wyndship, and he wondered if 
 it would ever be his good fortune to have this beautiful 
 and lovable woman pouring out his coffee while they sat 
 in peace and happiness around their own board. He 
 was resolved that if this should never be, the fault should 
 not be his. All of his energies and efforts should be 
 devoted to the accomplishment of this end, regardless of 
 every other consideration. But Elma evidently did not 
 find it so pleasant. She looked anxious and uneasy, 
 with her attention partly distracted, as if listening to 
 
BELLE VIEW. 281 
 
 every sound that disturbed the quiet of the early morn- 
 ing. 
 
 " I am getting such an early start," he said, " that I 
 will venture into Somerville to see Mr. and Mrs. Mar- 
 tin. There will not be much danger." 
 
 " Oh, no ! " she cried in alarm, " you must not think 
 of such a thing. I will explain it to them, and will de- 
 liver any messages you will entrust to me ; but you must 
 take the direct and safest route back to your command." 
 
 " Why, Colonel Harris and his regiment are good four 
 miles away, and will not be likely to move before sun- 
 rise. That will give me a good hour or more the start." 
 
 '' Yes, but Tony says there is another command of 
 Confederate soldiers in the neighborhood, who were only 
 a mile below Somerville yesterday afternoon. You 
 must take the eastern road and start at once." 
 
 " How does Tony learn so much?" 
 
 "I don't know; still, much of the news we get 
 through the negroes proves to be accurate, and as there 
 is nothing improbable in this, it would be foolish not to 
 regard it." 
 
 " I wanted, so much, to see them." 
 
 "Yes; but you had better wait until you — until you 
 can do so safely. I will tell them how it is." She 
 flushed slightly under his gaze as she said this, and her 
 lips parted as if to add something more. She had made 
 up her mind during the night to tell him before he left 
 not to return until after the Avar was over ; not to re- 
 sign, and to give up his wild resolution of settling in 
 Georgia, as they could never be married, and his pres- 
 ence there would only add to their pain and unhappi- 
 ness ; but somehow, the words stuck in her throat. 
 
 He did not push the argument further. If going into 
 Somerville that morning would cause her any uneasiness, 
 of course he must abandon the idea, as her peace of 
 mind was his first consideration. 
 
 A slight noise in front of the house caused her to rise 
 hurriedly and pass out into the hall. She returned 
 quickly, however, and said : 
 
 " Your horse is ready, and — but I beg your pardon — 
 you have not finished your breakfast?" 
 
 " I believe you are anxious to get rid of me," he an- 
 swered, lightly, pushing back his empty cup. 
 
 " Let me give you some more coffee," she offered, not 
 
282 WYNDSIIIP DELIVERS LEON's PACKAGE. 
 
 replying to the accusation. Every minute her manner 
 was growing more anxious and nervous. He saw and 
 piticcl her apprehension, and, declining the coffee, arose 
 and passed with her out into the hall. It was bliss to 
 intoxication to see her so engrossed with thoughts and 
 fears of his safety, and love and gratitude both urged 
 him not to give her one moment of needless alarm. By 
 her thoughtful directions, Tony had not only saddled his 
 horse, but had also carried out and secured his 'few per- 
 sonal effects to his saddle ; consequently, there was 
 nothing to prevent his immediate departure. They 
 passed out on the front piazza together, he pulling the 
 hall-door to behind them, resolved that no one should 
 Avitness their farewell. All the old, bashful reserve, the 
 old, doubtful self-consciousness that had governed his 
 manner towards her in the past, had vanished. She 
 loved him, and was anxious concerning his personal 
 safety — he knew this — knew that he was master of the 
 situation, and with every pulse throbbing with delirious 
 joy, resolved to utilize his advantage. 
 
 "And you are eager to see me leave — to get rid of 
 me?" he repeated, in a low voice, tense with love and 
 happiness. 
 
 "It is dangerous to remain — we — you — they might 
 come at any moment." 
 
 "And what if they did?" He had taken the clasped 
 hands in his own, and was gazing into the frightened 
 face, feasting on the nectar furnished by the humid eyes 
 and quivering lips. " They would not kill me ? " 
 
 "But you — they might send you to Andersonville. 
 That — I — I could not bear that." 
 
 One of his hands released hers that the arm might 
 pass around her waist. 
 
 " Oh, please go," she pleaded. 
 
 The arm tightened in reply. " Elma," he said, 
 slowly, emphasizing each word. "Elma, listen: I am 
 going, but I am coming back — coming back to claim 
 you ; do you hear ? And remember, there must be no 
 more such objections, and such argun;«;its, as you used 
 last night. I am coming back to make you my wife in 
 spite of this war, and in spite of your Southern preju- 
 dices. I am coming back to become a citizen of 
 Georgia when she returns to the Union — as true and de- 
 voted to her interests as any within her borders ; and 
 
feftiJ.KviEw. 28S 
 
 One, I hope, that you will not be ashamed to call your 
 husbaud. I know you love me — you cannot deny it — 
 you dare not raise your head, because your face, your 
 eyes, your lips, all say that you do. Do you hear me? 
 I am coming back, and I will not take no for an 
 answer." 
 
 There was no answer. Gently he raised the hidden 
 face and pressed a kiss, first on the forehead, then on 
 the cheek, and then a longer, more passionate one, on 
 the lips. "Good-bye," he whispered, and, releasing 
 her, went quickly down the steps and out to his horse. 
 
 A faint cry, calling his name, that he did not hear, es- 
 caped her lips as she staggered to one of the piazza col- 
 umns for support. He was gone, and she had not told 
 him w^hat she intended. He would resign and come 
 back, sacrificing his future prospects, expecting her to 
 become his wife. Oh ! if she could only shut her eyes 
 to the barriers between them ; hush the reminders of 
 duty and of patriotism ; get rid of these prickings of 
 doubt and of conscience — what a world of happiness this 
 would mean. Beneath the overhanging ivy she watched 
 his receding form ; surely it could not be remorse Tor 
 what she had left unsaid ; it could not be grief at the 
 temporary separation, that caused such a look of horror 
 in her face. Was it a premonition of danger ahead, for 
 him? 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 ARTHUR RALLIES AND REFORMS HIS FORCES. 
 
 "When Georgia was arming her old men and young 
 boys and sending them against Sherman, there was one 
 of her sons, fairly within the military age, whom she sig- 
 nally failed to get to the front. This son was our 
 friend, Captain Arthur Slaton. A short period of 
 active service in Virginia, at the beginning of the war, 
 had satisfied what thirst for glory he possessed, and 
 since that time he had managed to keep safely away 
 from ' ' where the bullets were whistling." By some means 
 — probably by a judicious use of his oily tongue and 
 sycophantic manners — he had obtained the favor of some 
 
284 ARTHUR RALLIES AND REFORMS HIS FORCES. 
 
 official, who rewarded his bootlicking with a commission 
 and a "bomb-proof position" in the commissaiy de- 
 partment. But his good fortune did not stop here, for 
 lie soon got himself detailed for service in this depart- 
 ment at Macon, Ga., and from this secure berth he could 
 not be moved by either sense of pride, the criticisms of 
 others, or the necessities of his cause. From there he 
 cautiously proceeded to carry out the scheme he had put 
 in motion, that day in the library at Belleview. Leon 
 was about right in his suspicion as to his double object 
 — first to get rid of Wyudship ; and then, if the decep- 
 tion ever came to light, all the circumstances would point 
 to the former as the guilty party, and forever destroy 
 his chances with Elma. It was a stone which might kill 
 two birds ; and we have seen how effectually it did the 
 work. He reasoned to himself that regard for the 
 family would prevent Elma from accusing Leon of the 
 forgery ; that she would simply reject his suit and sup- 
 press her knowledge of the trick ; besides, he believed 
 that the latter was too di'unk to remember w^hat had 
 transpired, with any certainty. True, he erred in his 
 estimate of her ; but then, Leon's unreasonable pride 
 prevented her from learning the truth, and consequently 
 the result was just what he desired, and with both the 
 lovers out of the way he could step in and capture the 
 prize. 
 
 His duties in Macon were more imaginary than real ; 
 or else he possessed the happy faculty of shirking their 
 performance, as he found plenty of time to make fre- 
 quent visits to Belleview. At first, he was very cau- 
 tious in his advances, for should Leon hear of his atten- 
 tions to Elma there was danger that he might divulge 
 the truth through jealousy ; but after the battle of Get- 
 tysburg, this fear was removed, and, throwing aside 
 all concealment, he commenced his courtship in dead 
 earnest. Here he met with less success than his egotism 
 had promised, and his progress was exasperatingly slow. 
 She not only kept his love-making suppressed with a 
 very damp towel of reserve, but also managed to let him 
 know that she did not admire his kind of a soldier. Too 
 cautious and cowardly to boldly break through her bar- 
 rier of coldness, he was still blessed with persistence, 
 and continued his attentions, hoping that as water by 
 continual dropping will wear the hardest stone, so by 
 
BELLEVIEW. 285 
 
 continual wooing lie might j^et succeed in obtaining an 
 entrance into the citadel of her heart and fortune. 
 
 When Slaton, covered with chagrin and choking with 
 rage, rushed from the parlor after his exposure, his de- 
 sire was to get away from Belle view as soon as possible. 
 Not wishing to meet with any of the family just then he 
 undertook to find Tony and have his horse saddled him- 
 self. But the latter could not be found, at least by the 
 cursory search which circumstances permitted him to 
 make. The presence of " de Yankee sojers " had a very 
 relaxing effect on plantation and household discipline ; 
 and where, before, the darkey had waited until the mas- 
 ter or overseer was safely in bed before venturing 
 abroad to swap news and conjectures with his dusky 
 brethren on neighboring plantations, he now scarcely 
 waited for the friendly shades of night. Possibly, Tony 
 was out manipulating the " grape-vine telegraph," by 
 the means of which he kept so much better ported on the 
 happenings of the day than his master. At any rate, 
 after an exasperating and futile search, Arthur was com- 
 pelled to hunt up his horse, bridle, and saddle, in the 
 dark as best he could, and to perform the duties of host- 
 ler for himself. This task completed, he mounted and 
 rode away, leaving no adieus behind. 
 
 Just as he was passing through the gate out into the 
 public road, he was alarmed by the soft footfalls of 
 another horse, approaching from the direction of Somer- 
 ville. The deep sand of the highway, even when wet, 
 was such a perfect suppressor of sound that he did not 
 hear the noise of the other's approach until only a lew 
 yards separated their horses' heads, and it was too late 
 to follow his first inclination, which was to hide himself 
 from sight. In those times persons did not pass each 
 other on the public highway at night without a challenge, 
 and "Hello! who is that?" came promptly from the 
 strange rider. 
 
 ^^ Slaton recognized the voice, and his fear subsided. 
 -It IS I, Doctor — Arthur Slaton," he answered, trying 
 ^ard to speak in a natural manner. " Isn't it rather 
 squally times to be making professional visits after 
 dark? " he added, after a short pause, with a little better 
 success. 
 
286 ARTHUR RALLIES AND REFORMS HIS FORCES. 
 
 " I have a call that I must make to-night — to see a 
 soldier's sick family. You know Ave mustn't let con- 
 siderations for our personal safet}^ or comfort interfere 
 with our duty to them, or to our country." 
 
 "Certainly," responded the other, faintly, perfectly 
 conscious that this last sentence contained a " fling " at 
 himself — something that he was getting accustomed to ; 
 but that fact did not make it any the more pleasant. 
 "Are there any of our troops in the neighborhood, 
 Doctor?" 
 
 " Yes — do you wish to join them? " 
 
 " Yes ; " after swallowing a lump in his throat, which 
 may have been the insinuation contained in the ques- 
 tion. 
 
 The Doctor did not believe in this " yes " ; in fact, he 
 smiled to himself at the idea of Arthur Slaton wanting 
 to do his duty at this late day. 
 
 " Well, Harris's regiment is camped at the old ' Camp 
 Ground ' to-night. You can join them there now, or at 
 Somerville to-morrow morning, as I understand that they 
 are coming this way." 
 
 "Thank you." His voice, however, did not evince 
 any superabundance of gratitude. He was already 
 hatching in his mind some scheme of vengeance against 
 Wyndship, and this particular regiment and its Colonel 
 were not at all suited to his purpose. 
 
 " They would be a good regiment to join," continued 
 the Doctor, still smiling to himself; "you know their 
 reputation as good fighters. But how comes it that 3'ou 
 are leaving Belleview so early to-night? I would have 
 thought it an impossibility for you to have torn j^ourself 
 away before morning." 
 
 " I didn't like the company they have up there." 
 
 " Indeed? Who is there? " 
 
 "A Yankee officer." A minute later he would have 
 gladly recalled both these answers, but it was then too 
 late ; in fact, he had not yet regained his customary 
 shrewdness and cunning. 
 
 "A Yankee officer?" repeated Dr. Hurst, in surprise. 
 " How is that — who is it? " 
 
 Arthur hesitated, mentally cursing his unthoughtful- 
 ness in having made such an excuse ; but it was now too 
 late, for his questioner had become deeply interested, 
 and quickly repeated the inquiry. 
 
BELLEVIEW. 287 
 
 ** "Who is it, and bow many men has he with him? " 
 
 "Oh, he's alone. It is Wyndship — the fellow that 
 taught school here, just before the war." 
 
 "Ah!" 
 
 "He claims to be only making the family a friendly 
 visit, but I'll bet he's up to some mischief. It both sur- 
 prised and disgusted me, to see the old Colonel ' making 
 such a to-do ' over a Yankee — an officer in Sherman's 
 army — and I left." 
 
 " It was a violence done to your patriotism, eh? " 
 
 Arthur did not reply. He was sharp enough to see 
 that this was another fling at his — well, at his conserva- 
 tism with regard to the active service. These inuendoes 
 had long ago grown monotonous, and had often caused 
 him to grind his teeth in impotent anger. Just then he 
 was longing for the power to avenge himself against 
 Wyndship, and would have liked very well to include 
 some others in the punishment, but it was impolitic to 
 exhibit this feeling to the Doctor ; consequentl}^, with 
 an extra effort, he controlled his passion. " AVell, I 
 must be going ; I want to join some command to-night, 
 or to-morrow, and must go by hom^e first. There was a 
 squad of Yankees in here this evening that might be 
 killed or captured, if I can find some help before it is 
 too late." 
 
 Dr. Hurst again smiled to himself as the other rode 
 off. He thought it was a very small squad that Arthur 
 Slaton would attempt to capture, with even a regiment 
 at his back. But his thoughts • quickly reverted to the 
 startling information that the latter had inadvertently 
 let slip. " Wyndship at Belleview," he mused to him- 
 self, still sitting quiet on his horse, "what did that 
 mean?" He did not remain conjecturing long, how- 
 ever, but, muttering to himself, " I'll go by and tell him," 
 turned his horse through the gate. 
 
 Arthur took the road that led by his father's home, 
 which lay about three miles east of Belleview and Som- 
 erville, nearer the river. It was a dark and lonesome 
 ride ; one that in his ordinary state of mind he would not 
 have dared to take just at this dangerous time. The 
 knowledge that his late captors had gone in that direc- 
 tion, and might still be lingering in the neighborhood, 
 would have kept him at Belleview, or sent him to Somer- 
 ville as the safer direction ; but this night his heart 
 
288 ARTHUR RALLIES AND REIORJIS HIS FORCES. 
 
 was too full of hatred towards Wyndship, his miDd 
 too much engrossed with schemes of revenge to 
 take this fact and this possibility into consideration. 
 In his ordinary self, once awaj^ from the protecting pres- 
 ence of others, his craven heait would have jumped and 
 quaked at every denser shadow that crossed his path ; 
 and at every noise, at every croak of a frog, or every 
 hoot of an owl, which disturbed the stillness of the night. 
 For once he had been fairly balked and exposed ; and 
 not only had he suffered disgrace and humiliation before 
 the woman he wanted to make his wife, but he had also 
 to suffer additional stings through the contemptuous 
 scoffs and acts of an exultant rival. Oh, hoAv he longed 
 for vengeance ; but study and scheme as much as he 
 might, he could think of no safe method of retaliation. 
 The regiment of Confederates at the old "Camp 
 Ground," would not at all answer his purpose. Colonel 
 Harris, he remembered, as having been on rather good 
 terms with his eneni}^ before the war ; besides, he was 
 an old and close friend to both Elma and the Gachets, 
 and no doubt would be governed by their wishes, should 
 he make Wyndship a prisoner — paroling him at once, 
 and leaving him at Belleview in safety and — happiness. 
 No, he must devise some other method, even if it was 
 nothing better than to waylay him on the road in the morn- 
 ing, and to shoot him down as he passed. But there was 
 more personal risk in this course than he cared to take — 
 his shot might miss its mark, and in return, he might be- 
 come the target of the other's pistol. But what else 
 could he do ? and where could he find the assistance he 
 desired ? 
 
 ' ' Halt ! Who comes there ? " 
 
 He had nearly reached his father's home, and was 
 turning a corner at the mouth of a lane, when this or- 
 der, accompanied by the ominous clicking of a gun ham- 
 mer, came like an unexpected thunder-clap, sending his 
 heart in one spasmodic bounce clear up into his throat. 
 
 "Who's there, I say? Speak out, or 3'ou're a dead 
 man." The voice evidently meant business, and Slaton 
 instinctively knew tliat he did not have much time to 
 lose in collecting his scattered senses. 
 
 "A friend," he quavered, in accents of pitiful ter- 
 ror. 
 
VEliEYIEW. 289 
 
 *'A friend to which side? To the ' Yank's or Corn- 
 feds?' " 
 
 The expression "To the Yanks or Cornfeds," indicated 
 that the challenger belonged to the latter, still it was not 
 conclusive, and there was yet danger in aligning himself 
 on either side. 
 
 " I'm a peaceful citizen, going to my home.'* 
 
 " If you're a citizen of this country, it oughtn't to be 
 so blamed hard to say which side you b'long to. I 
 reckon we'll have to take you in out of the cold — till you 
 make up your mind, at least. Close in on that side, Jim, 
 an' shoot if he tries to run." In obedience to this or- 
 der, another dim figure appeared on the other side of the 
 road almost in an arm's length of Slaton. 
 
 "Don't shoot, gentlemen — for God's sake, don't 
 shoot I I'm unarmed, and belong to your side — to the 
 Southern side." 
 
 " Who are you, then? " 
 
 *'My name is Slaton, and I live up at the next 
 house." 
 
 " Why in the h 1 didn't you say so at once? If 
 
 you had, we wouldn't have treated you so rough. I 
 reckon you're kin to our Captain ? " 
 
 " What is your Captain's name ? " asked Slaton eag- 
 erly, trying hard to control his still trembling voice. 
 
 " Barnes." 
 
 " Captain Barnes of the ' Cumberland Scouts'? " 
 
 " That's about the size on it, I reckon." 
 
 " Certainly — he's my cousin." There was a wonder- 
 ful change taking place in the tones of his voice. Fear 
 was vanishing, and hope of a chance for a new deal was 
 taking swift root in his mind. 
 
 " This must be Captain Slaton?" said the soldier who 
 had been silent up to this time. 
 
 " Yes," was the eager response. 
 
 " Edwards, I'll walk up to the house with the Captain, 
 while you remain on post." 
 
 This proposal being agreed to, Slaton and his escort 
 started up the road. 
 
 " Captain Barnes is np to the house now, paying 
 your folks a visit," said the soldier, commencing a con- 
 versation. 
 
 " What time did you get here? " 
 
 " 'Bout sundown ; and just in time to nab a party of 
 
290 ARTHUR RALLIES JOUD REFORMS HIS FORCES. 
 
 Yankee bummers, who were so busy robbing houses an' 
 drinking bust- head, that I reckon they forgot the time 
 of day, or whar' they were." 
 
 " Captured a party of Yankees? " exclaimed Arthur, 
 with sharply increased interest. " How many were 
 they?" 
 
 " Five or six. We killed one, captured three, and I 
 think one or two got away. They were all powerful 
 drunk — at least, the three were that we captured. But 
 I'll bet a Cornf ed'rate X against a nigger's tooth-pick 
 that they're sober enough by this time, for the Captain 
 swears by the Eternal God — an' told 'em so, too — that 
 he was going to hang all three in the mornin'." 
 
 Arthur surmised that these were a part of the gang 
 from whose hands Wyndship had rescued Elma and him- 
 self that afternoon — a surmise that he soon had an op- 
 portunity of verifying. The Scouts were camped by the 
 side of the road in some timber, just west of the house, 
 and as they passed, he recognized one of the prisoners 
 as Lieutenant Blufkins. Relieved now from all fear, his 
 crafty brain was soon engaged in hatching some plot 
 against the safety of his triumphant rival. This cousin 
 and his company, he imagined, were the right sort to 
 render him the needed assistance, for if they were so 
 ready to hang the three bummers, it certainly would not 
 be hard to induce them to perform the same office for 
 Wyndship, on the plea of his being a spy. They were 
 indeed a rough-looking set, and their commander at first 
 glance, seemed to be one of them — to be qualified in 
 every way to act as their leader. On a closer inspec- 
 tion, however, of his kinsman, whom he had hitherto 
 known by reputation only, he concluded that it might be 
 advisable to use a little artifice beforehand in exciting 
 their resentment against Wyndship ; moreover, his na- 
 ture was not such as prompted a straightforward course, 
 even when excited with passion and thirsting for re- 
 venge. With a little time to arrange his ideas he felt 
 confident of being able to invent some tale, or produce 
 some circumstance that would start them like relentless 
 bloodhounds on his enemy's trail. Reckless and desper- 
 ate as they looked, these men and their Captain were 
 soniething better than guerillas, as was shown by the 
 fact that they had left the rugged fastness of their na- 
 tive mountains in Tennessee and North Alabama to keep 
 
BELLEVIEW. 291 
 
 up the unequal struggle with Sherman's army. They 
 were not fighting for booty, nor altogether for revenge, 
 although the latter feeling no doubt held a prominent 
 place along with fidelity to their cause. 
 
 It would have been amusing to most of Captain Ar- 
 thur Slaton's acquaintances to have heard him "talking 
 war "to his cousin. No one, not even "Old Colonel 
 Gachet," could have been more eager " to shed his last 
 drop of blood, or more determined to convert the last 
 ditch into a heroic grave." The blood of a dozen Yan- 
 kees would not near have satisfied his appetite for gore ; 
 in fact, he could have devoured that many for breakfast 
 without salt or pepper, and still have an aching void cry- 
 ing relentlessly for more. So enthusiastic did he be- 
 come, that when late bed-time sent Barnes to a downy 
 couch, made more luxurious by j^ears of deprivation, 
 Arthur must need seek congenial companionship around 
 the camp-fires. ; v * ' 
 
 The Scouts, worn out by arduous service, had mostly 
 rolled themselves up in their wretched blankets, and did 
 not seem to appreciate, or to be in a humor to participate 
 in his enthusiasm ; even the single sentry that stood 
 guard over the three prisoners seemed more inclined to 
 envy his comrades' enjoyment of sleep, than to recount 
 deeds of valor, past and to come. He could not see 
 why the hanging could not have been done that night 
 as well as in the morning, thereby saving him 
 some hours of weary vigil. But Arthur felt philan- 
 thropic as well as warlike, and soon proposed to 
 relieve him of his duty as guard, permitting him to ob- 
 tain the few hours' sleep he was begrudging. Strict 
 army regulations were unknown in this command, con- 
 sequently the soldier did not hesitate to accept the gen- 
 erous offer — a Confederate officer, and a cousin of his 
 Captain, could, of course, be entrusted with the keeping 
 o'f the prisoners. 
 
 Slaton's escort was not far wrong in expressing the 
 opinion that the captive bummers were sobering up un- 
 der the knowledge of the doom which awaited them on 
 the dawning of another day, and this appeared especially 
 to be the case with Lieutenant Biufkins. Moreover, the 
 latter was suffering with his head, which showed an ugly 
 scalp wound caused by AVyndship's pistol ; and pain 
 from this, coupled with probnbl}- some very unpleasant 
 
21):^ ARTHUR RALLIES AND REFORMS HIS FORCES. . 
 
 reflections, was keeping him wide awake. The volun- 
 teer guard must have had an uncontrollable desire to 
 talk with some one, for scarcely had quiet settled down 
 throughout the little camp, than he entered into conver- 
 sation with this prisoner. This conversation must have 
 been very interesting to them both, for it continued for 
 some time, during which they were very much engrossed 
 with each other, and, seemingly, ending eminently satis- 
 factory to both parties. At any rate, when the soldier 
 to whom had been assigned the duty of standing guard 
 during the latter part of the night, came to relieve 
 Arthur, the latter walked away with a smile on his thin 
 lips and an exultant glee in his close-set eyes, while 
 Blufkins himself was doing less cursing and groaning, 
 and seemed in a far more comfortable frame of mind. 
 
 Captain Barnes was awakened early next morning and 
 informed that one of his prisoners claimed to possess 
 some information that was of the utmost importance for 
 the Confederate authorities to know. This information 
 he offered to sell for the consideration that he and his 
 comrades' sentence of hanging be remitted. Irritated 
 by the interruption of his morning nap, Barnes was not 
 inclined to pay much attention to the proposition. " It 
 is only some tale they've hatched out to save their 
 necks," he grumbled. " Get out your ropes and skear 
 'em some more ; but you needn't do the hanging 'til I 
 give the word." And forthwith the Captain turned 
 over, intending to enjoy the luxury of a good bed to the 
 utmost. This good resolution, however, like most 
 others that are formed by mankind, was destined never 
 to be carried out, for his follower soon returned, stating 
 that there might be something in the Yank's tale after 
 all ; which was, that a plot had been formed to liberate 
 the prisoners at Andersonville. 
 
 " He says that the Yankee officer appointed to carry 
 out the scheme is in the neighborhood, and can be cap- 
 tured if we act promptly," continued the interrupter of 
 the morning nap. 
 
 This quickly brought Barnes to his feet and into his 
 clothing. Just at this time the Confederates were feel- 
 ing considerable uneasiness about Andersonville, as was 
 shown by the fact that they had disposed of all their 
 available forces in such a manner as to resist any move- 
 ment of the Federals tliat way ; but they were paiiif uUv 
 
BELLEVIEW. 293 
 
 conscious of their own weakness and inability to success- 
 fully resist anything like a determined advance by their 
 enemy in any direction. Consequently, the hint of a 
 plot to release the prisoners there was considered by the 
 scouts as a subject worthy of immediate attention. 
 
 Notwithstanding his active service during the night, 
 Arthur's patriotism had become too strong to permit late 
 sleeping on his part, and hearing something of what was 
 going on, he hastened to join his cousin at the camp. 
 The latter had never really intended hanging his pris- 
 oners, and did not hesitate long before accepting Bluf- 
 kins's terms, who, in return, proceeded to relate ins tale, 
 the sum and substance of which was as follows: 
 
 When the Union army was still in Atlanta the ques- 
 tion of making some effort to liberate the prisoners at 
 Andersonville was discussed among the leaders. It was 
 first proposed to do this by a bold dash of the cavalry ; 
 but, on consideration, this idea was abandoned, as the 
 commander-in-chief was not willing to spare the large 
 force necessary to make it successful ; besides, it was 
 argued, no doubt the ubiquitous Wheeler, with his horse 
 infantry, would be on the watch to head off the move- 
 ment, and convert it into another Stoneman fiasco. (No- 
 where was the Little Cavalryman held in higher esteem 
 than among those who had suffered from his lightning- 
 like blows) . At length the following plan was adopted, 
 as i^romising some hope of success with a small expendi- 
 ture of means. Small parties were to be sent out from 
 the main body of cavalry, ostensibly for the purpose of 
 foraging and depredating on the country, but all moving- 
 south by different roads and by-waj^s. As far as they 
 could be obtained, each man was supplied with Confed- 
 erate uniforms, and where they were not to be had were 
 to secure citizens' clothing from houses on the way ; 
 these disguises they were to assume as soon as they 
 passed beyond the territory covered by the right wing of 
 the Federal army. Passing themselves off as Rebel sol- 
 diers, they were to rendezvous at a certain place in 
 Southern Georgia, and, under the pretence of being or- 
 dered to Andersonville to reinforce or relieve the guard, 
 were to effect a surprise, release and arm the prisoners 
 with such weapons as could be obtained, and then make 
 a dash to rejoin the Federal army at Savannah. In sup- 
 port of this tale he referred his auditors to the Rebel 
 
204 ARTHUR RALLIES AND REFORMS HIS FORCES. 
 
 uniforms and citizens' clothing that had been found 
 snugly enfolded in their blankets. 
 
 This plan had been adopted at the instance of one 
 Major Wyndship, who had resided in this part of the 
 state before the war, and who professed to have some 
 knowledge of the country. This ofiicer was to command 
 the expedition, and, if successful, was to be rewarded 
 with a Brigadier-General's commission. AVyndship, he 
 stated, had accompanied his party, and had brought 
 them somewhat out of the way for the purpose of visit- 
 ing some acquaintances in the neighborhood, and to 
 wreak revenge on some personal enemies. That when 
 they got in sight of the house where the former intended 
 to spend the night, he had ordered them to take a certain 
 road going east, giving them minute directions how to 
 find the home of a gentleman by the name of Slaton. 
 This person, together with his son (if found at home), 
 they were instructed to murder, and then to burn his 
 house to the ground. 
 
 ''Great God!" cried Arthur, with an assumption of 
 holy horror. '' To think that Wyndship, who once pro- 
 fessed to be my friend — aye, even as late as last night 
 lie declared as much — should attempt mine and my 
 father's life in such a treacherous manner." 
 
 "He wants to kill us," added his father, who had 
 joined them, "for no other reason than because I op- 
 posed his havin' the school here before the war. I 
 :!ll'us said he wouldn't do — the black-hearted Yankee 
 scoundrel ! " 
 
 " You say you saw him last night? " demanded Barnes 
 of Arthur. 
 
 "Yes; I saw him at Colonel Gachet's — that's where 
 he staid all night." 
 
 ' ' Why didn't you capture or kill him then ? " 
 
 " Because — because he — he claimed that he liad left 
 the Yankee army, and intended joining the first South- 
 ern command he could find. I — I could scarcely be- 
 lieve him, but he talked so fair, and promised so much, 
 I thought I would give him a chance. That is the rea- 
 son I said nothing to j'ou of his being there, last night. 
 I knew you would think it your duty to make him a 
 prisoner, and — and I thought if he was honest in his 
 professions he ought to have a chance. I never dreamt 
 that he could be guilty of such black treachery as this.'* 
 
BELLEYIEW. 295 
 
 ''What were 3^011 to do next, 3^011 hell-hounds, you?" 
 cried the Captain, now thoroughly enraged, turning back 
 to Blufkins. 
 
 ' ' AYe — we were to stay around here 'til this morning, 
 when he was to join us. Then we were to take to the 
 woods, change our uniforms, and make our way through 
 your lines." 
 
 " This is the truth you are telling me? " 
 
 "It's the tru t]i. Captain, so help me God. I'm sorry 
 I ever engaged in such r.n enterprise, 'specially that part 
 relating to the killing of Mr. Slaton, but I was drunk 
 3^esterdny, and didn't know what I Avas doing. He per- 
 suaded and threatened me into it." 
 
 " You d d rascals, hanging is entirely too good for 
 
 you. Hello, DaAvson ! " calling to his Lieutenant, "have 
 me a detail of five or six men with good horses mounted 
 at once. Select those with the best horses, and have 
 them ready in half a minute." 
 
 " What are you going to do? " asked Arthur, in sud- 
 den alarm. 
 
 " I am going after that d d blue-bellied Y^ankee 
 
 Major before he gets away. IMy men shan't be cheated 
 out of a hanging this time, to a dead moral certain- 
 t-y-ty." 
 
 But this was a move that might spoil Arthur's little 
 game. He knew if Barnes went to Belleview he would 
 doubtless learn the truth, and the result would be his, 
 not Wyndship's downfall ; so he set to work to dissuade 
 him from this course. He represented Colonel Gachet 
 as a hot-headed, stubborn old fellow, who had taken a 
 fancy to his guest for some supposed service. " He will 
 certainly take sides with the Y^ankee," he said, " and as 
 he has considerable influence with the Confederate au- 
 thorities you will only get j^ourself into trouble." 
 
 "His influence be d d. I'll hang the old fellow 
 
 himself for harboring a sp}^, if he gets to cutting up." 
 
 "Y'ou do not know who you are talking about. 
 Colonel Gachet is the most prominent man in the 
 county — has represented the State in the Confederate 
 Congress, and is on the best of terms with President 
 Davis." 
 
 "What would you have me do, then — let the scound- 
 rel get away ? " 
 
 " Oh, no. It will be easy enough to capture him after 
 
296 ARTHUR RALLIES AND REFORMS HIS FORCES. 
 
 he leaves there. You remember Bhifkins says he was 
 to join him here this morning — to do so he will have to 
 come one of the two roads. All that you have to do is 
 to conceal a party on each road, one of which will be 
 certain to capture him. I know he will be coming this 
 way, for Harris's regiment is a few miles beyond Somer- 
 ville, and as he was informed of this fact he will hurry 
 this way. He has no suspicion of your presence here — 
 I left Colonel Gachet's last night after supper, and no 
 one had heard of your being in the neighborhood." 
 
 Arthur's arguments were plausible, and, after a little, 
 prevailed. 
 
 As there Avas no time to be lost, the details of his 
 plan for capture were soon settled, and the necessary ar- 
 rangements made to put them into execution. Captain 
 Barnes, with part of his men, taking Blufkins with 
 them, left to take a position on the upper or more north- 
 ern road ; while Dawson, with another party, was to am- 
 bush the southern route, which was not so frequently 
 travelled. The company of scouts were small, and only 
 two were left at the camp to guard the two remaining 
 prisoners. Slaton also elected to remain, giving as an 
 excuse that he did not have the heart to look again 
 on the face of the man who, while claiming to be his 
 most devoted friend, was secretly plotting his death. 
 His abhorrence or anything like deceit or treachery was 
 so great, that his self-possession could not stand the 
 strain which such a meeting would cause. In truth, 
 while secretly rejoicing over his success, still there were 
 bounds to even his effrontery, and he did not care to 
 meet Wyndship's eye. It had been settled that the exe- 
 cution should take place at the place of capture, and he 
 decided to forego the pleasure of beholding it, rather 
 than come face to face with the innocent man he was 
 hounding to death. 
 
 After the parties had left, he found plenty of time for 
 rejoicing in secret over his anticipated revenge, and for 
 admiring the finesse of his own scheming. A few hours 
 more, and this mocking, scornful Yankee would not find 
 everything going so smoothly as it did last night. He 
 would find pit-falls in his way, deeper and more perilous 
 than any he had hitherto met — his triumph would turn 
 to defeat and death — the golden apple of his love and 
 happiness J to the bitterest of ashes. If Arthur did mt 
 
BELLEVIEW. 297 
 
 put it ill this form exactly, still his cnjoj^ment was not 
 circumscribed in its limits, because his mind was nerv- 
 ous, his morals perverted, and his tastes mean and grov- 
 elling in tlieir nature. Revenge was as sweet to him as 
 it would have been, could he have celebrated its accom- 
 plishment in strains of " Homeric measure." 
 
 But even such pleasures as this have their price and 
 their drawbacks, for the purpose, probably, of rectif}^- 
 ing the balance of eartlily felicity. Even such geniuses 
 as himself must have their share of vexations and an- 
 noyances, and doubts began to arise as to the sufficiency 
 of his plot. Had he rivetted and dove-tailed its various 
 parts sufficiently strong to stand even a partial investi- 
 gation? His fears, which were always easily aroused, 
 told him no. The facts and tlie tale he had put into 
 Blufkins's mouth did not fit so exactly as he had imagined 
 at first, when under excitement ; and should his cousin, 
 after capturing Wyndship, give him anything like a fair 
 trial, there was danger of the whole affair exploding the 
 wrong way — "of an engineer being blown up by his own 
 petard." The prisoner might induce his captors to take 
 him back to Belle view or to Somerville, to prove his 
 character ; and then, to use a home-wove expression, 
 " the fat would be in the fire." The more he thought 
 about it, the more listless he became, and wandering 
 around he came near enough to the two guards to hear a 
 fragment of their conversation. 
 
 " I'll bet yer that there'll be no hanging, nor no shootin' "-^' 
 nuther, onless the Yank shows fight," remarked one to 
 the other. 
 
 " The Capt'n 'peared to be pow'ful in arnest." 
 
 "Don't kear. AYhen it comes ter pris'ners, his bark 
 is alius worse than his bite." 
 
 "Do you think he'll let'im off, after sendin' them 
 d d bummers here to kill his uncle and cousin ! " 
 
 " Oh, fiddlesticks^ that tale's too thin. If you'd no- 
 ticed what I did Ifsf night" — here the speaker became 
 aware of Slaton's proximity, and lowered his voice ; but 
 the latter had heard enough. Trembling all over with a 
 mixture of fear and anger — fear of the result to him- 
 self, and anger at fate, which was continually marring 
 his plans — he hurried away. Evidently this fellow's sus- 
 picions had beeu excited, either by his volunteering to 
 gtaud guar^ oyer tbe prisoners last nighty or what ty(v^ 
 
298 ARTHUR RALLIES AND REFORMS HIS FORCES. 
 
 worse, had witnessed his long conversation with Bhif- 
 kins. Probably others of his comrades also had sus- 
 picions, and would be influenced by them in Wyndship's 
 behalf. What must he do? Failure of his plot, and 
 consequent exposure, would disgrace him forever — even 
 his own side his own neighbors, would hold him in exe- 
 cration ; while his enemy, again triumphant, would be- 
 come the popular hero. Ordering out his horse, he at 
 first resolved to flee ; but remembering that even in 
 case of failure he would not be likely to suffer any 
 physical punishment, he hesitated. Then, too, his fears 
 might be exaggerated. The prejudices of the scouts 
 would naturally be against Wyndship, and in his favor ; 
 besides, it would be the height of pusillanimity to take 
 flight before failure was assured. Everything might be 
 going all right, and Wyndship be even then suffering the 
 fate he had prepared for liim. Why not go and see how 
 matters were progressing before giving up the fight? 
 Then, too, his presence might prove advantageous to his 
 interest — his influence might turn the balance in a doubt- 
 ful case. One voice ; aye, one word even, of the right 
 kind, and at the right moment, will decide a case in 
 law, and why not in this matter? He ouglit not to have 
 let a few qualms and scruples keep him from going with 
 his cousin, for it was his fight, and if he won, success 
 would amply repay for the violence done to his feelings, 
 or for the opprobrium that participation might bring to 
 his reputation in the estimation of some. 
 
 These considerations decided him, and mounting his 
 horse, he turned in the direction of the nearest ambush, 
 resolved that if his revenge had not already been accom- 
 plished, and the use of a glib tongue well fortified with 
 specious arguments, and thoroughly versed in the art of 
 manufacturing falsehoods, could effect its execution, then 
 there should be no miscaiTiage this time. 
 
BELLEVIEW. 299 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 WYNDSHIP'S CAPTURE AND TRIAL. 
 
 Wyndship rode rapidly down the avenue and along 
 the road until he hnd passed out of sight of any one 
 standing on the piazza at Belleview, and then brought 
 his horse down to a moderate gait. His hurry was not 
 prompted by fear of capture, but by a desire to relieve 
 Elma of all anxiety on his account. He reasoned to 
 himself that the Confederates, aware of their great dis- 
 parity in numbers, would advance with caution ; besides, 
 he did not believe that his old friend. Colonel Harris, 
 would make any effort to capture him, or that his fate 
 would be at all onerous, should he accidentally fall into 
 his hands. While the Federal cavalry could not be far 
 distant, still he knew there was a long ride ahead of him 
 before he -could overtake the main column, and conse- 
 quently it was advisable that he husband the strength 
 and endurance of his steed. In fact, he was somewhat 
 mistaken as to the proximity of the former, for having 
 learned by experience that "The Little Cavahyman '' 
 did not always " stop to count noses," they had, in the 
 last few days, adopted the safer policy of destroying less 
 country and keeping nearer their infantry supports. Not 
 knowing all this, he imagined that the hour's moderate 
 ride, which would carry him across the river, would also 
 place him beyond any danger of molestation. 
 
 The clouds of the previous day had vanished, the 
 morning was perfectly clear, and just cool enough to be 
 bracing. The breeze had not yet risen, and the mourn- 
 ful soughing of the pines had not begun. As Wyndship 
 started on his journey the sun had just appeared above 
 the eastern hills, and its bright rays converted the drops 
 of moisture on bush and tree into a thousand sparkling 
 diamonds, which seemed to send back coquettish glances 
 in response to the Day God's ardent gaze, unmindful of 
 the fact that his fiery favors would soon be their undoing. 
 The birds of a southern winter were flitting joyfully 
 from seed-laden grass to acorn-bearing boughs, chirping 
 and trilling forth their glee and gratitude for the profuse 
 bounties of a loving Maker, In theii* kingdom there 
 
300 WYNDSIIIP^S CAPTURE AND TRIAL. 
 
 were no quarrels and bloodshed, no war and murder, just 
 now — only love, and peace, and plenty. 
 
 Wyndship's heart responded to the jo^^ousness of na- 
 ture, and revelled in its deliglits as well as in those of 
 his own happiness. He loved, and was loved in return. 
 Does not that fact cover the height, and breadth, and 
 depth of human happiness? "What mattered a few days, 
 or even weeks of separation, when it would only add in- 
 creased felicity to the next meeting? After this, noth- 
 ing would ever again come betvveen them ; but together, 
 down the thoroughfare of the future, they would go 
 hand in hand, and heart with heart interlocked. 
 Through the clouds of strife, and war, and misery, 
 the sunshine of perfect love would pierce, lighting their 
 footsteps safely to the end. The storms were all over, 
 the doubts all conquered ; and with the reins of his 
 imagination held even more loosely than those in his 
 hand, he became oblivious to surrounding circumstances, 
 and to present dangers, in dwelling on this blissful pic- 
 ture of the future. 
 
 Anon his mind reverted to the incidents of the past 
 twent3'-four hours. How opportune had been his arrival ! 
 Was it the hand of destiny that had guided his footsteps, 
 bringing him to Belle vie\v just at the time when he could 
 be of most service to its inmates ; and to her rescue just 
 at the moment of great danger? If so, destiny was in- 
 deed kind, for it could not possibly have conferred a 
 greater favor. And how beautiful she had grown during 
 those 3^ears of separation — that is, if her old loveliness 
 could have been improved. How gentle and womanly, 
 yet how brave and courageous. How tender and loving, 
 yet how true to duty and steadfast to principles. Im- 
 prove? AYhy, she had always been perfect, and how 
 could perfection improve? Yes, she had always been 
 purer, nobler, more self-sacrificing than even his loA'er's 
 imagination could conceive. How could he ever have 
 doubted her? Where could he recall the least word, 
 look, or sign, which would have justified a shadow of 
 a doubt? He was the one who had been hasty, un- 
 reasonable, and destitute of faith, and utterly unworthy 
 of the great blessing of her love. 
 
 Then his mind wandered still farther back — back 
 across the gulf of separation — back past tliat last night 
 pf misery in Somerville — back past the boat ride po tllQ 
 
BELLEVIEW. 301 
 
 pond, whose bliss had been so rudely interrupted l)y 
 Arthur Slaton's hateful "Boat ahoy" — back past the 
 first evening at Belleview — back to the afternoon of his 
 arrival in Somerville, when he caught the first glance 
 from those eyes which had enchained his heart forever. 
 It was a delightful employment this bright morning, 
 dreaming sweet day dreams about the woman he loved. 
 
 " Halt ! Surrender ! " He awoke to find himself sur- 
 rounded by armed men, one of whom had already seized 
 his bridle-rein. Instinctively his hand sought the handle 
 of his revolver, but the threatening muzzles of their 
 guns in close proximity to his face, warned him that to 
 attempt to draAV it would be the signal for his death. 
 
 " What does this mean? " he demanded, as soon as he 
 had recovered from the surprise. 
 
 " It means, Mister Yank, that you're kotched." 
 
 "Are you Confederate soldiers?" 
 
 " I reckon that's 'bout the size on it." 
 
 " I surrender, then." 
 
 "You will, eh? We'd like to see you do anything 
 else." 
 
 From the first, there was a menace in their voices and 
 looks that boded no good to the prisoner, but he thought 
 nothing of it. He felt assured that the influence of his 
 friends at Belleview and in Somerville would save him 
 from Andersonville, and secure his patrol until exchanged, 
 or the war was over — a prospect by no means displeas- 
 ing in all its features. 
 
 " AVell, are you going to hand out that pistol, or not?" 
 demanded Captain Barnes, riding out into the road in 
 front — the others were dismounted. 
 
 " Certainly — here it is." 
 
 " See if there is any other weepin about him, boys." 
 
 Wyndship's face flushed as the rude hands quickly 
 searched his person ; but he kept control of to temper, 
 and offered no resistance. 
 
 " Now dismount." 
 
 This command was also complied with promptly. 
 
 " Boys, we'll go down to that old church down there 
 Ly the side of the road and finish up this job. Give me 
 the reins of his horse ; and, Jim, you and Bill take 
 charge of the prisoner. Kill him if he tries to run. 
 Peeler, you and Smith go back and get the horses, and 
 brmg the honorable Bluffy alono*," 
 
302 WYNDSHIP'S CAPTURE AND TRIAL. 
 
 The two addressed as Jim and Bill seized the captured 
 man by each arm. 
 
 "This is unnecessary," said Wyndship, indignantly. 
 " I have no desire or intention of running." 
 
 " You'd better not try it," replied Jim, exhibiting a 
 cocked pistol in his disengaged hand.- "I only wish 
 you would try it." 
 
 For an instant the desire to free himself from their 
 touch almost precipitated a struggle, ])ut cooler thoughts 
 told the prisoner that such an attempt would not only be 
 useless, but very impolitic ; so, submitting with the best 
 grace he could, he walked on between his two guards. 
 The church referred to was a house built of pine logs for 
 the use of the slaves on the neighboring plantations. 
 Wyndship remembered having gone here once, with 
 Charley Hurst, to witness a negro service. Now he was 
 being taken there a prisoner ; " For what purpose?" he 
 vaguely asked himself. In the grove in front of this 
 rude edifice, they halted. 
 
 " We'll wait until the boys come with the horses and 
 the other prisoner, before beginning the trial," said 
 Barnes. 
 
 *' AVhat trial?" demanded Wyndship, in surprise. 
 
 " You'll find out soon enough for your good." 
 
 " This is strange treatment for a prisoner of war !" 
 
 " Oh, shet up — close yer jaw," interposed Jim. 
 
 There was a look about the men that the prisoner did 
 not like. An angry threat was expressed by their 
 abrupt manners, and sullen, lowering faces that sent a 
 thrill of apprehension through his breast. Then, too, 
 a closer inspection of their accoutrements and appear- 
 ances led him to suspect that they were guerrillas. He 
 had heard enough of the summary method the latter hnd 
 of disposing of their prisoners, to make him regard liis 
 present condition as not, in any wise, an enviable one. 
 Still, he thought, when he explained everything to them, 
 that they would not dare to do him bodily harm. 
 
 They did not have long to wait before they were 
 joined by the other two, leading the horses. With them 
 came two more, guarding anotiier prisoner, whom 
 Wyndship recognized as the fellow he had knocked 
 down the evening before. Wondering and alarmed, he 
 watched them secure their horses to the trees, and, all 
 but one, gather in a semicircle around him, This one 
 
BELLE VIEW. 303 
 
 took up his position on the roadside, where he could 
 watch both ways against any surprise by Federals. 
 What could all this mean ? Would this party of six 
 men, with only one commissioned officer amongst them, 
 i:»roceed to try him as a spy, in violation of all war regu- 
 lations? And, should their verdict be guilt}^, would 
 they put their own sentence into execution? Would 
 they dare to assume so great a responsibility, or were 
 they only in jest — only going through a form for their 
 own amusement, and a little revenge, by playing on his 
 fears? If the latter was the case, they were mistaken 
 in their man. They could not frighten him by such 
 devices. 
 
 "Well, boys, let's git through with this job as quick 
 as possible," said Barnes, stepping within the semi- 
 circle, and facing the prisoner. His five followers were 
 to be the jury, but he apparently intended to assume the 
 duties of both judge and prosecutor. " I don't admire 
 to this kind of business, no how." 
 
 " There is a quick way of finishing it up," remarked 
 Jim, suggestively. 
 
 " No, he shall have as fair a trial as we can give 
 him. It mus'n't be said that Barnes's men didn't do the 
 square thing." 
 
 " A trial? For what? " demanded Wyndship. 
 
 "As a spy, and for plotting against the life of a 
 peaceful citizen." 
 
 " You must be jesting." 
 
 " You'll find out d d quick whether we're jistin' 
 
 or not," said Jim, vindictively. 
 
 " This proceeding is outrageous," continued Wynd- 
 ship warmly, addressing Barnes, and ignoring the last 
 speaker. ' ' Before you proceed any farther with this 
 farce, tell me one thing: Are you bushwhackers, or 
 not?" 
 
 "No, by we are not — we are reg'lar Confed'rate 
 
 soldiers." 
 
 ' ' You should know better then how to treat a prisoner 
 of war." 
 
 " We know well enough how to treat your sort," said 
 Jim. 
 
 Still not noticing the interruption, Wyndship contin- 
 ued : " You seem to be in command of this party, and 
 I claim at your hands that protection accorded by the 
 
304 WYNDSHIP'S CAPTURE AND TRIAL. 
 
 rules of civilized warfare to prisoners of war. You can- 
 not deny me this if you have any respect for the 
 uniform you wear, or for the Hag under which you fight." 
 
 " When you prove yourself entitled to that kind of 
 treatment, you will be sure to get it." 
 
 " That will be easy to do. Go with me back to Som- 
 erville, or to Colonel Gachet's home, and I will soon sat- 
 isfy you on that point." 
 
 " We've got evidence closer at hand than that," again 
 interrupted Jim. 
 
 " Hold on," said Barnes, addressing his admonition to 
 both AYyndship and the last speaker, " Hold on — let me 
 talk awhile." 
 
 '' I'd like for him to tell us how much he, or any of 
 Sherman's army knows 'bout civilized warfare ?" sneered 
 the irrepressible Jim. 
 
 Barnes frowned, and again called for silence. " What 
 is 3^our name?" he demanded. 
 
 "Wyndship — Major Wjmdship, of the Union army, 
 and attached to General Howard's staff." 
 
 " If you're an oflicer in the Union army, why haven't 
 you got the uniform on ? " 
 
 " I have," he replied promptly, throwing open his wa- 
 terproof overcoat. 
 
 " If you belong to Howard's staff, what are j^ou do- 
 ing here alone ? " 
 
 *' I am on a leave of absence, and came here to see 
 the family of Colonel Gachet. My business was to de- 
 liver a package entrusted to me by his son, a Confeder- 
 ate officer, who was mortally wounded at Gett3^sburg. 
 Having done this, I was on my way to rejoin my com- 
 mand when 3'ou captured me." 
 
 Wyndship did not add that it was his intention to 
 quit the Union service. To have done so, bethought, 
 might have the appearance of a subterfuge on his part, 
 for the purpose of conciliating their ill-will, and he did 
 not wish to bear even the semblance of hypocris}^ Con- 
 scious of his own innocence, he could not fully appreci- 
 ate the peril of his position, and had little fear of the 
 result. In fact, his open, self-respecting manner, and 
 straightforward words were having their effect on 
 Barnes, who hesitated before asking another question. 
 
 '' How are we to know that this tale you're telling 
 us is true or not ? " 
 
*' By inquiry of Colonel Gacliet, who lives only a 
 mile or two back on the road to Somerville, and who 
 everybody knows to be the strongest kind of a Southern 
 man. Or if you prefer it, take me to Colonel Harris, 
 who commands a regiment of Confederate cavalry that 
 is now in the vicinity of Somerville, or a short dis- 
 tance bej^ond. He knew me before the war, and I be- 
 lieve will vouch for the truth of what I am telling you. 
 Then there is Doctor Hurst and Squire Martin, both old 
 citizens of this neighborhood, who are well acquainted 
 with me, and with my character." 
 
 Again Barnes hesitated. Face to face with his pris- 
 oner, the ardent desire for revenge that he felt an hour 
 or two before was rapidl}^ cooling. Barnes was no cow- 
 ard, but there was more responsibility in this thing of 
 trying and executing a prisoner as a sp}^, than he had at 
 first supposed, and he was just beginning to debate in 
 his own mind the advisability of turning the whole mat- 
 ter over to Colonel Harris, as the nearest superior offi- 
 cer, when unfortunately Wyndship changed the current 
 of his thoughts, bj^ demanding : 
 
 " On what evidence do you make so abominable a 
 charge ? " 
 
 " On the testimony of one of your own men, who you 
 shall hear for j^ourself. Bluffy, step forward there, and 
 tell your tale." 
 
 In obedience to this order, the Lieutenant of the Bum- 
 mers repeated his story, only, profiting by the additional 
 hour or two he had had for consideration, this time he 
 painted his pretended confession in brighter colors than 
 before. Of course, this caused a discrepancy between 
 the two narratives, but apparently Barnes nor either of 
 his men were laAvyers enough to notice it, or if they 
 were, not impartial enough to consider it in the prison- 
 er's favor. Wyndship listened in silence, first with sur- 
 prise and indignation, but as the whole diabolical lie for 
 his destruction unfolded itself, this gave way to horror 
 and dismay. He thought at once that it was a scheme 
 for revenge against himself ; but what surprised him 
 most, was that a drunken, stupid fellow, like Blufkins 
 appeared to be, could concoct a plan as cunning, and a 
 tale as plausible, as this. These emotions kept him si- 
 lent when it was finished, and this silence was also ac- 
 cepted as evidence of guilt by the angry rebels. 
 
306 
 
 "AYe killed one of this fellow's men, find captured him 
 and two others last night, before they could carry out 
 your damnable orders," said Barnes. " Mr. Slaton, the 
 man you sent them to kill, is my uncle by marriage. 
 By a fortunate accident yesterday, I found out where he 
 lived, and as it was on my route, I moved my company 
 there just in time to frustrate your plan." 
 
 Like any other innocent man who is suddenly con- 
 fronted with an unjust and unexpected accusation, 
 Wyndship had nothing to offer in refutation but general 
 and vehement denials, and these had little effect on his 
 judges. A part of the six, judging by their ill-suppressed 
 oaths and comments, had already decided on a verdict, 
 and were growing impatient with the delay ; in fact, 
 from the first, Jim had made no effort to conceal his in- 
 tention to vote " guilty." 
 
 "If you've got anything to say, or any proof to 
 bring up, you'd better be at it," said Barnes again. 
 " My men here won't pay much attention to simple de- 
 nials. Calling your partner over there a liar, won't con- 
 vince them of your innocence." 
 
 The prisoner realized this, and also that the prejudices 
 of his judges were all against him, still he did not pro- 
 pose to give up without making a fight for his life. 
 
 " You say you captured two others — do they corrob- 
 orate this fellow's tale?" 
 
 '' I didn't question them," the Captain admitted, 
 rather reluctantly. 
 
 '* It seems to me that you should have done so — it is 
 not customary to convict an accused on one witness' tes- 
 timony alone." 
 
 Barnes saw and acknowledged to himself the justness 
 of this objection, and again hesitated. He really 
 wished to give his prisoner a fair trial — " to do the 
 squar' thing by him," as he expressed it — that is, as near 
 so as his followers Avould alloT\^, for the majority of his 
 company sometimes overruled his authority. 
 
 " That can be done yet, I suppose?" 
 
 A murmur of dissatisfaction arose from two or three, 
 but seeing his chance, and determined to use it if pos- 
 sible, Wyndship continued : 
 
 " I insist that j^ou do so — I demand that j^ou examine 
 them in my presence, separate and apart from their 
 leader. Besides this, I demand that you also take the 
 
liKLLEVlEW. 307 
 
 evidence of certain parties, citizens of this neighbor- 
 hood, before j^ou pass sentence." 
 
 The murmur of dissent grew louder. "What can 
 they know about it?" demanded Jim, disregarding his 
 Captain's motion for silence. 
 
 " They know me — know of my character in the past, 
 and it is nothing but justice that you hear what they have 
 to say." 
 
 " This ain't no court o' law, that we should go huntin' 
 up a man's past carrackter," suggested the one called 
 Peeler. 
 
 Barnes felt that he was losing control, and called an- 
 grily for silence on the part of his men. 
 
 Not in the least daunted by the vindictive spirit that 
 two of his judges were exhibiting, Wyndship pressed 
 the advantage that he felt he was gaining. " Did that 
 scoundrel there tell you how he got that wound on his 
 head? That it was caused by a blow from my pistol 
 only yesterday afternoon, for molesting a Southern lady ? 
 Did he tell you that I drove him and his gang out of 
 Colonel Gachet's yard when they were trying to disarm, 
 and probably to kill, the old man for defending his home ? 
 has he told you all this ? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 "Well, it is all true, and can be easily proven by 
 Colonel Gachet, and by — " he started to say " by Cap- 
 tain Slaton, of the Confederate army," but something- 
 like instinct caused him to substitute — " the other mem- 
 bers of his family. This fellow's tale is all false, con- 
 cocted for the purpose of revenging himself on me for 
 the knocking down I gave him. He has never been un- 
 der my command ; I have nothing to do with his pres- 
 ence in this neighborhood, and never laid e3^es on him 
 before late yesterday afternoon. I know nothing about 
 any plan to capture Andersonville, and did not send him 
 to Mr. Slaton's on any errand whatever ; in fact, I am 
 now on a ' leave of absence,' as this paper will prove. 
 All this I can prove if you will only give me a chance ; 
 only take me back to Belle view or to Somerville." 
 
 Wyndship was gaining ground. The scouts had be- 
 come interested listeners, even Jim and Peeler having 
 subsided into silence. His manner was so earnest and 
 straightforward as to enforce doubt, if not conviction, 
 on a part of his hearers, and it looked as if his chances 
 
308 WYNDSUIP S CAPTURE AND TRIAL. 
 
 were brightening. Blufkins was sharp enough to see all 
 this, and moreover, to realize what would be the result 
 to himself should his victim escape, and grew desperate. , 
 What if he should succeed in discrediting his story? 
 Should succeed in prevailing on the rebels to suspend 
 judgment until the matter could be more thoroughly in- 
 vestigated? Then, not only would he lose his revenge, 
 but his own life would likely pay the forfeit. Something 
 must be done, and done quickly, to counteract this fa- 
 vorable impression, for his own safety now depended on 
 W3mdship's conviction. 
 
 " He lies ! " he blurted out recklessly. *' He lies ! I 
 tell you ! His tale is all a lie. It was — it was not for 
 that, that he struck me — he struck me because" — a pause 
 — * ' he struck me because — because I — I would not shoot 
 down an inoffensive old farmer, in obedience to his or- 
 ders. In the name of God, gentlemen, I'm telling you 
 the truth — the whole truth. He wanted me to shoot 
 down an old man for nothing in the world but for inter- 
 fering when he was — when he was trying to kiss his 
 daughter." Blufkins had to think all this up while 
 speaking, and consequently, his sentences were broken, 
 and his speech was hesitating. " I could tell you about 
 many other mean things he done — worse than that. He's 
 got a glib tongue, gentlemen, and will try to make you 
 believe in his innocence, but don't you listen — I'm telling 
 you the truth." 
 
 When he heard the words " he lies," Wyndship raised 
 his arm and stepped forward to strike his traducer, but 
 the rebels interfered to stop him. Behind their protec- 
 tion, the accuser continued to utter his defamations, 
 growing bolder in his utterances as he saw the helpless- 
 ness of his victim. Two strong feelings, the desire for 
 revenge, and for self-preservation, were urging him on. 
 To a fair, unprejudiced jury, the animus that prompted 
 him would have been plain enough ; but unfortunately, 
 the Scouts were not impartial. They were partisans try- 
 ing an enemy, and Peeler expressed the thoughts of the 
 majority when he remarked, sententiously : 
 
 " When the raskels fall out, we fin' out some o' their 
 devilment." 
 
 Wyndship could only Insist on his innocence, and pro- 
 test against the irregular proceedings ; denouncing in 
 
r.KLI-KVIEW. 309 
 
 strong language, their unfairness in not waiting until the 
 evidence of his friends could be obtained. 
 
 " Let's git through with this job," interrupted Jim. 
 " "We can't stay here all the week." 
 
 ''Peeler, examine the prisoner's saddle-roll and pock- 
 ets, and see if they contain any Confederate or citizens' 
 clothing," commanded Barnes. 
 
 This was speedily done, and the civilian's coat, which, 
 by the advice of others, Wyndship had reluctantly 
 brought along, was pulled out and displa^^ed. 
 
 "This looks kind er 'robberativ' — don't it?" said 
 Peeler, holding up the garment so all could see. 
 
 Our hero had lost his momentary advantage. The tide 
 now set dead against him, and he soon saw the futility 
 of his efforts to stem it. To Barnes's question, as to 
 what he had to say in his own behalf, he could only re- 
 peat his former demand, and he had too much pride, and 
 felt too much resentment at his captors' injustice, to 
 plead for his life at their hands. Probably he still be- 
 lieved that they would not dare to carry their threats 
 into execution, as their leader had already shown signs 
 of weakening. Not so, however, with Jim. 
 
 " I think that we've spent time enough at this fool- 
 ishness," he said. " He's had a heap longer time to de- 
 fend himself in, and a much fairer trial than the Yan- 
 kees gave my gray-headed old father in Tennessee, when 
 they shot him down on his own door-step. Let's get 
 through with this business." 
 
 " Yes, we've gin him lots more' time than his d d 
 
 sort giv' my wife an' children to get out of their house, 
 when they burnt it down in the dead of winter," said 
 the one called Bill. " I'm for the verdic'." 
 
 " Let's have the verdict," repeated Jim. 
 
 "Pm sorry," resumed Barnes, waving his hand for si- 
 lence, "that you can't bring up any evidence to clear 
 you from these serious charges." 
 
 "I could," interrupted Wyndship hotly, "if you 
 would give me a chance." 
 
 " Chance enough ; now for the verdict," cried Jim. 
 
 Barnes looked intensely uncomfortable. He did not 
 relish his present position, and longed for a chance to 
 shift his responsibility on to other shoulders. His pris- 
 oner insisted on looking to him as the accountable per- 
 son ; and, having strong doubts of his guilt, this per- 
 
olO WYNDSHIP^S CAPTURE AND TRIAL. 
 
 sistence was extremely unpleasant. Neither did he care 
 to take issue with his followers, or to place too great a 
 strain on his authority. To release himself from this 
 predicament he was guilty of the most cowardly act, 
 probably, that he ever committed in his life, by leaving 
 them to determine by a majority vote what should be 
 Wyndship's fate. Before doing so, however, he made 
 one feeble effort to delay proceedings. " I think, boys, 
 that we ought not to act too hasty in this matter. 
 Maybe we'd better wait, examine the other prisoners, 
 and investigate some more before passing sentence. 
 Besides, the other boys might think that they ought to 
 be consulted." 
 
 " The boys will approve of what we do ; and as for 
 being too hasty, it seems to me we are wasting a lot of 
 precious time here when there is no necessity for it. 
 You know that General Wheeler is expecting us to re- 
 port to him at , to-night. If you wanted to ex- 
 amine the other two bummers, and have all the company 
 take a hand in the trial, j^ou ought to have sent for them 
 before beginning." It was very evident that Jim did 
 not wish to shirk any responsibility himself. 
 
 *' Very well — settle this matter between you five ; I'll 
 have nothing more to do with it." 
 
 "All right — I'm ready to give my vote now — it is 
 guilty, and death. The blood of my old father calls 
 for it." 
 
 * ' We are not trying him for the murder of your 
 father," reprimanded the Captain, before turning away. 
 
 "I am," was the grim reply. "I've long ago tried 
 and sentenced the whole Yankee nation, and propose to 
 punish as I get a chance. AYhat says you, BUI?" 
 
 "Them's my sentiments." 
 
 Taking this for an affirmative vote, Jim turned to the 
 next. 
 
 "What say you. Smith?" 
 
 *'I — I don't know. I expect we'd better turn the 
 whole batch over to the Gin'ral." 
 
 " Oh, hell ! What say you, Sam ? " 
 
 " I say wait until we find out more about it — 'till we 
 can question the other prisoners, at least." 
 
 Four had voted, two for death, and two against, and 
 now all eyes turned to the thit'd. 
 
 " What say you^ Peeler? " 
 
BELLE VIEW. 311 
 
 The man turned slowly from inspecting the prisoner's 
 horse and trappings, and came leisurely forwnrd, 
 casting his eyes up into the trees over-head as he did 
 so. It was an anxious moment for Wyndship, as the 
 thought flashed through his mind that his fate, his life, 
 all his sweet hopes and blissful anticipations, rested 
 on that man's answer alone. For the first time 
 since his capture his breathing came quick and fast, 
 Avhile the moisture of suspense gathered on his 
 brow. It was an anxious moment for Blufkins also, as 
 he waited for the answer with even more perturbation 
 than his victim. Apparently satisfied with his inspec- 
 tion of the trees. Peeler gave his verdict as coolly as if it 
 only affected the life of some worthless cur. 
 
 " 1 say "—he stopped to squeeze the wad of tobacco 
 between his jaws a time or two, and then to eject a 
 quantity of its juice. *' I say — let's hang 'em both, 
 then we'll be cert'in to git the right one." 
 
 Wyndship fell back as if struck. *' Was it possible," 
 he thought, " that any one could pass the sentence of 
 death on a human creature so unfeelingly, and with so 
 mucli indifference ? " 
 
 " This is horrible ! " he cried. " Hang a man on such 
 evidence, and with such a trial as this?" 
 
 " Stronger evidence and fairer trial than my father 
 got. Three for death and two against — that settles it, 
 I reckon. We've had talk enough — now for action. 
 What's the way, boj^s, hanging or shooting? " 
 
 Even then, after the sentence of death had been pro- 
 nounced against him, and while his judges were consid- 
 ering the mode of execution, it was hard for him to 
 realize that it was not all a mockery. Before the five 
 ]iad come to any decision, he demanded another inter- 
 view with their Captain, who had wandered off up the 
 road. 
 
 "What do 3^ou want with him?" queried Jim, who 
 had now assumed the leadership. 
 
 " I shall demand of him protection — to stop this out- 
 rage." 
 
 " It's no use," was the answer. " He left the busi- 
 ness to us, and he dar'sen't go back on his word." 
 
 W^mdship insisted, however, and his demand was 
 complied with. Barnes approached reluctantly, with his 
 eyes on the ground, the sky, the trees, on any object 
 
Sl2 WYNDSHIP'S CArXURE AND TRIAL. 
 
 except the face of the condemned man. He listened to 
 Wyndship's appeal in silence, every featnre and every 
 motion showing his great discomfort. But Jim was 
 right — he either would not, or dared not, interfere. 
 Discouraged and disgusted, the prisoner at length mod- 
 erated his demand to the granting of two favors. 
 
 " What are they?" he asked uneasil}^ 
 
 "First; that I be shot — not hung. I wish to die a 
 soldier's death — a death that I have often faced before, 
 and as bravely as any man." 
 
 " That wish shall be granted, sir — I shall insist on it 
 with the boys." 
 
 " Next ; that I be allowed time to prepare for death— 
 to write my last messages to my friends — to the loved 
 one that I have as well as j'ou." 
 
 Barnes became deepty interested with the dead leaves 
 that he slowly stirred with one foot. 
 
 " How long do you want? " he asked. 
 
 " Until four o'clock this afternoon." 
 
 "That's too thin," put in Jim; "we can't wait;" 
 while Barnes shook his head. 
 
 "Until three, then?" 
 
 Another shake of the head. ' 
 
 " Two o'clock — noon? " 
 
 Barnes raised his eyes far enough to examine his silver 
 watch. " You ask too much time — my orders won't per- 
 mit me to stay here that long." 
 
 " How much will you give me?" 
 
 " Till ten o'clock — well, say half-past ten. That will 
 give you something over an hour and a half." 
 
 Without another word Wyndship bowed, and turning, 
 seated himself on the rude step at the church door. He 
 had asked for the delay with the hope that some inter- 
 ference in his favor might come from some quarter. 
 Colonel Harris might come up with his regiment ; or 
 there might be some passer-by who would know him, and 
 by whom he might send for assistance ; but the short 
 respite granted made both chances improbable. 
 
 The good fortune which he had eulogized so highly 
 but a short hour ago, had proven a traitor. There had 
 been a time when death had but few terrors ; but then 
 he had nothing to make life desirable. Now all was dif- 
 ferent — he had just been made supremely happy by 
 the knowledge that he possessed the love of the woman 
 
BELLEVIEW. 3 1 3 
 
 he adored. How delightful had been the sensation — 
 liow bright the sun had shone, how exhilarating had been 
 the fresh morning air. What happy thoughts of the 
 present ! What pleasant memories of the past ! What 
 alluring prospects for the future ! And now all had 
 vanished ; now he was sentenced to die the shameful 
 death of a spy and a conspirator. The hours, aye, the 
 moments of his life, were numbered, and each throb of 
 his heart beat one second less of the grudgingly-granted 
 delay. This was the end of all his hopes, of all his love 
 dreams — a lifeless corpse left by the wayside to tell its 
 tale of horror and of despair to the first passer-by ; and, 
 in due time, the news of that bloodstained body would 
 be carried to Belleview — to Elma's ears, bringing upon 
 her heart its heaviest load of sorrow. " Oh, God ! how 
 canst Thou permit such cruelty and injustice? Can 
 there be no respite — no chance for escape ? " He glanced 
 around at the unrelentless men who, with guns in their 
 hands, stood watching his every movement. There were 
 five — no, only four ; one had joined his Captain in the 
 road. Should he make the attempt? There were fear- 
 ful odds against success — still, men had faced as great 
 and escaped. He could try at least — if they killed him 
 it was only the loss of a few moments — of an hour and a 
 half at best ; and it would be a better death than the one 
 which awaited him. Every muscle and tendon began to 
 tighten, every nerve was strained to the highest pitch, 
 for the desperate venture. 
 
 *' Hist, Massa Wyndship — keep quiet, fur goodness 
 sake ! " 
 
 The subdued whisper sounded like a peal of thunder to 
 his overstrained senses, and it was a wonder that he did 
 not spring from his seat. Fortunately his guards noticed 
 or suspected nothing from his sudden start. At first he 
 was bewildered as to the source from which the whisper 
 came, almost believing it to be the creation of his own 
 imagination ; but the brain acts quickly under such cir- 
 cumstances, and he remembered the character of the 
 building behind him, and that it sounded like a negro's 
 voice. Influenced by these considerations, he let his 
 head drop back to its former position. 
 
 '' It's urnly me, Massa Wyndship — Carlos — Squire 
 Martin's Carlos — don't you 'member me? But don't 
 say nuffin — Ise hid in de church he'er, and he'erd it all." 
 
ol4 WYXDSniP's CAPTURE AND TPtlAL, 
 
 "Wyndship changed his position so as to throw his face 
 sideways to the crack between the logs. He then ele- 
 vated his knee, and rested his head on his hand in such 
 a manner as to hide his mouth from those on the outside. 
 
 " I wants ter help yer, sir — I does — what kin I do?" 
 
 '' Can you steal out, and get away without being seen ? " 
 tho prisoner cautiously w^hispered back. 
 
 '• I t'inks I kin, sir. I kin crawl out de back winder 
 and steal off thru de bushes." 
 
 "And can you find your master — Dr. Hurst, or some 
 friend, and bring them back here before half -past ten 
 o'clock ? " 
 
 ' ' I specks I kin ; I'se got ei* horse hi'cht ober in de 
 bushes ne'er de odder road. It hain't but two mile ter 
 Colonel Gachet's, 'n' I kin git de'er in er mighty short 
 time." 
 
 ''But Colonel Grachet is sick — well, find some one — 
 some friend, and bring them back quick. If you see 
 Colonel Harris, tell him, maybe he will come to my 
 assistance. But you must be careful, or these men 
 might see you in getting away." 
 
 " Dis nigger knows how ter save he's bacon. Dey 
 can't see fru de logs er dis he'er house, 'n' I'se gwine ter 
 crawl lik' er black snake 'til I gits in de bushes, 'n' den 
 I'll make tracks lik' er race horse. Keep er good heart,' 
 Massa Wyndship, I'll git somebody he'er pow'ful quick." 
 
 There were other cautions and instructions Wyndship 
 would like to have given, but prolonging the whispering 
 greatly increased the chances of detection, besides con- 
 suming valuable time ; so, with another admonition to be 
 careful, he changed back to his first position. With 
 head resting against the logs he listened anxiously for 
 any noise that might betray the boy's presence within. 
 Once or twice there was a slight creaking of a loose 
 plank, or the muffled sounds of a body rubbing against 
 a bench or the floor, but not distinct enough to reach the 
 ears of the Confederates. After a little, all was still. 
 For some time longer he strained his sense of hearing to 
 the utmost, at the same time shutting his eyes for fear 
 they might reveal too much ; then, assured that Carlos 
 had got safely away, hope revived witiiiu his breast. 
 
tiELLEVIEW. 315 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 A RIDE FOR HELP. 
 
 The experience of other sections had impressed upon 
 the minds of the planters and farmers of Georgia the 
 necessity of hiding their horses and mules on the ap- 
 proach of the Federal cavalry, to save them from being 
 carried off or killed. To sweep the country clean of all 
 live stock was a part of Sherman's policy. What his 
 cavalry did not need must be shot, in order to deprive 
 the Rebels of their use ; and, as far as lay in their 
 power, his troops faithfully executed this command, re- 
 gardless of the fact that the country already barely con- 
 tained stock enough to make bread for its women and 
 children. But then, possibly, the families of the Con- 
 federates were not entitled, in their eyes, or in those of 
 their commander, to any consideration, save onl}^ as 
 they furnished the means of inflicting extra punishment 
 on the men who dared to oppose them in battle. Indeed, 
 unlike Grant, Thomas and McClellan, Sherman made 
 war to punish as well as to subdue. 
 
 Mr. Martin had turned all of his stock over to a trusty 
 servant on his plantation to hide in the swamps, save 
 one horse, an old one that he considered of little value, 
 which he kept at his home place in Somerville. Wish- 
 ing to send some message down to this negro, he starts 
 Carlos off on this old horse very early on the morning of 
 Wyndship's capture. Now four years had not in the 
 least diminished the young mulatto's stock of gallantry ; 
 on the contrary, entirely ignoring a certain experience 
 of the past, as he grew older his sweethearts had 
 become, if possible, more numerous. A short time 
 back he had exchanged gutta-percha finger-rings with 
 one of his later flames as a token of endless affection. 
 But, as we have seen, the course of true love did not 
 run smooth with Carlos any more than with the rest of 
 mankind ; and, ere long, a little disagreement came be- 
 tween to mar their felicity. She demanded a return of 
 her ring ; a demand he could not comply with for the 
 simple reason that he had lost it while attending a meet- 
 ing in this old church. His excuses were not satisfac- 
 
316 A RIDE FOR HELP. 
 
 tory, and, a rival having taken np her cause pretty much 
 as the one did that night in the quarter at Belleview, th^ 
 desirability of finding it became very strongly impressed 
 upon his mind. 
 
 The private, or neighborhood road leading down to 
 Mr. Martin's plantation, branched off from the main 
 road to Harper's Ferry, about half a mile nearer Somer- 
 ville ; but keeping pretty much the same dh-ection it was 
 only a short distance across, through the intervening 
 woods, from the former to the back of the old church. 
 As Carlos was going on his errand that morning, and 
 had got about opposite this point on his own road, the^ 
 thought had struck him that it would be a good oppor* 
 tunity to search for the missing ring. It would not take 
 very long, and there was no reason why his master 
 should ever know of the lost time. So riding out into 
 the timber far enough to hide his horse, he tied him to a 
 sapling and footed it across through the brush. 
 
 He had been in the building but a short time when his 
 attention was attracted by the sounds of men's voices 
 and the noise of their approach. Stealing to the door 
 and squatting down by the crack between the logs, he 
 heard pretty much all that passed during the trial, and 
 also saw enough to recognize Wyndship. Carlos, like 
 all of his race in southern servitude, had a supreme con- 
 tempt for all " po' Norfen trash" ; but, in ante-bellum 
 days, he had never assigned the " Teacher" to that 
 class, instinctively recognizing the fact that he was as 
 much of a gentleman as if he had been born south of 
 the Mason and Dixon line, and " owned niggers." Dur- 
 ing the latter's residence at Somerville this respect had 
 developed into a true regard, which had lived and kept 
 as green in the mulatto's heart as well as it might have 
 done in one whose skin was white. Consequently his 
 sympathies were keenly enlisted in Wyndship's behalf, 
 and he undertook the task of bringing assistance with an 
 enthusiasm that swept away considerations of personal 
 danger to himself. As soon as their whispered conversa- 
 tion was over, he stole out of the back window by which 
 he had entered, and succeeded in getting safely back to 
 his horse and to the other road ; and then, as well as the 
 capabilities of his master's old buggy animal would per- 
 mit, proceeded to carry out his eager promise to ' ' make 
 tracks lik' er race hoss." 
 
BELLE VIEW. 317 
 
 ******* 
 
 About two hours after Wj^iidship's departure, 3Iollie, 
 finding her attention uo longer necessary for her father's 
 and mother's comfort, came out on the front piazza for a 
 breath of the morning air. While there Tony brought 
 Elma's horse around to the front, and soon afterwards 
 the latter came down, dressed in her homespun ridino- 
 habit. 
 
 ^' What are you going to do?" Mollie asked, in sur- 
 prise. " Surely, after yesterday's experience, you're 
 not going to venture off somewhere alone ? " 
 
 "• No— not alone. I am expecting Dr. Hurst by to 
 act as my escort," was the answer, with an attempt at 
 cheerfulness. 
 
 Mollie was not deceived by the attempt. She knew 
 by instinct that her friend was in trouble— that the 
 cheerfulness was a miserable effort to hide heartache ; 
 and, as she, too, had a lover far away in danger, she 
 could sympathize with the other's sorrow. 
 
 ^'Are you going into Somerville? " she asked, suppos- 
 nig that Elma had some messages from Wyndship to de- 
 liver to his friends, the Martins. 
 
 ''No. I am going back to Mrs. Hall's with the Doc- 
 tor." 
 
 '' Colonel Harris will probably call by to see you this 
 morning, and I think you ought to stay at home to meet 
 him." 
 
 '' If he does, tell him to come on to Mrs. Hall's. I 
 know he will want to see his wounded boy soldier." 
 
 '' If a certain Yankee Major knew how devoted you 
 were to Johnnie," said Mollie, with a meaning smile, '' I 
 wonder if he would not be terribly jealous." 
 
 But Elma did not return the smile. 
 
 "I do not think he would," she answered, simply. 
 She felt that after their late parting no feelings of jeal- 
 ousy could ever exist on either side— surely he would 
 never -again doubt her love and faithfulness. " The 
 Doctor is later than I expected," she added, glancing 
 anxiously down the avenue. 
 
 Just then she saw a negro boy on horseback come 
 rapidly along the eastern road. She watched him indif- 
 ferently until he reached and turned through the avenue 
 gate, uging his horse on at every jump ; then her atten- 
 
Sis A RIDE FOR HELP. 
 
 tion was shai^ply attracted, and her face t;irned deadly 
 pale. The boy had come from the direction Wyndship 
 had gone, and this thought was enough to excite her fear 
 of evil tidings. Darting down the steps and along the 
 walk, she reached the little gate just as Carlos reined up 
 his panting horse. 
 
 "Oh! Miss Elma," he cried, " dey's kotched 'im, 
 an's gwine to kill 'im." 
 
 She reeled from side to side, clinging to the gate-post 
 for support. Her white lips opened and moved, but 
 gave forth no sound. 
 
 " Dey's gwine to kill 'im," repeattd the boy, too much 
 excited to be coherent. " He's got but an hour to live !" 
 
 Again the quivering lips refused to speak. 
 
 "Who are you talking about, Carlos?" demanded 
 Mollie, who had followed her friend. " Who is going to 
 be killed, and by whom? " 
 
 " Massa Wyndship, ma'am. Some Suthun sogers hes 
 kotched him." 
 
 " They won't dare to kill him." 
 
 " Yes'm ; dey's done 'demned 'im to de'f, 'n' he's got 
 but one hour to live." 
 
 In answer to Mollie's questions Carlos told his news 
 plain enough to be understood. While all this was go- 
 ing on Elma did not utter a word, and seemed incapable 
 of standing but for the gate-post and her friend's sup- 
 porting arm. The working mouth and wide-open, horri- 
 fied eyes showed the agony which paralyzed her senses. 
 
 " You say he has to half-past ten to live?" asked 
 Mollie, eagerly, when the boy came to the latter part of 
 his tale. 
 
 " Yes'm, I hyerd dem promis' 'im dat myse'f." 
 
 " Then there is a chance to save him," she cried, ex- 
 citedly. ' ' Do you hear, Elma ? We have over an hour 
 in which to send friends to his rescue. Oh ! if papa was 
 only well." 
 
 Elma heard — caught the straw of hope, and rallied 
 instantly. 
 
 " I must save him," she cried. "I must go — I nill 
 go ; and if they kill him they must also kill mc." The 
 palsied tongue had recovered its function, and the ej^es 
 lit up with the resolution to save her lover, or to die in 
 his company. She started through the gate, when Mol- 
 lie caught the folds of her habit. 
 
BELLEVIEW. 319 
 
 ^'AYliere are you going? — stop, Elma — yoii must not 
 go among those reckless, cruel men alone and unpro- 
 tected. Send for Colonel Harris — he is not far beyond 
 Somerville, and Carlos can find him. And there is Mr. 
 Martin and Doctor Hurst — he can tell them, and they 
 can get to the old church }3efore the hour — but you — you 
 must not go by yourself." She held fast ; and after a 
 few efforts to disengage herself, Elma hesitated. " Car- 
 los can find them," reiterated Mollie. '' Can't j^ou, Car- 
 los ? Can't you ride on by home ; tell Mr. Martin or 
 Doctor Hurst, and then hurry on up the road by the Old 
 Camp Ground, until you meet Colonel Harris? — and — 
 and be quick ? " 
 
 " Dat I kin," cried the boy, wheeling his horse around, 
 *' 'n I'se er gwine ter do it in three shakes uv er sheep's 
 tail." In the excitement of the moment, he overlooked 
 the fact that the two-mile gallop had already played 
 havoc with ''Old Selim's" powers of endurance. His 
 wall to be of service to both AVyndship and " Miss Elma" 
 was good ; and frantically digging his heels into his 
 horse's sides, he started back down the avenue in a 
 blundering gallop, his own heels, at least, being stimu- 
 lated to extra exertions by Elma's frantic exhortations 
 for greater speed. 
 
 " He goes too slow — his horse is broken down now," 
 she cried despairingly, as she watched his exit into the 
 road. " Oh ! why didn't I make him take Pelham ? " 
 
 "Where is Tony?" exclaimed Mollie. " Let him take 
 your horse — it's the only one on the place — and go 
 through the near way." 
 
 But Tony had gone away immediately after tying the 
 pony to a hitching-post. The fire in the kitchen was 
 more agreeable to his African blood than the chilliness 
 of this December morning. The speaker turned to nm 
 back after him, but a sudden resolution took possession 
 of Elma. 
 
 "I am going myself," she called out to her friend. 
 " I know the path through the pine woods, and can ride 
 as fast as he." 
 
 Quickly unfastening the tie rein, she did not take time 
 to lead the pony to the " horse blocks," but sprang into 
 the saddle from the ground. " Now, Pelham," she mut- 
 tered, between rigid lips, " you must do your best," and 
 
320 A RIDE FOR HELP. 
 
 she lashed his shoulders with the ends of the reins un- 
 til, surprised and excited, he darted swiftly away. 
 
 It was a wild gait for a woman to ride, but Elma had 
 been accustomed to horseback exercise all her life, and 
 easily kept her seat ; in fact, the only thing that 
 troubled her was the imaginary slowness of lier horse's 
 pace. After leaving the public road, her route was a 
 by-path through the pine forest, which again intersected 
 the road some two miles beyond the village. This path 
 was dim and little travelled ; was crossed by several 
 branches, now filled with water, and in places was 
 " lapped " by the bushes from either side ; but none of 
 these obstructions checked her speed. The mud and 
 water splashed over her from head to foot, the brush 
 caught her skirt, tore away her veil, and scratched her 
 hands and face, without attracting the least attention. 
 One thing, however, did force a recognition from her 
 excited brain, and that was, that the moaning of the 
 pines overhead, rising above the noise of the pony's 
 feet, seemed to be chanting a funeral dirge for her 
 lover. With lips drawn so tight that all vestiges of 
 color had left them, she urged her pony on, frantically 
 lashing the reins from side to side ; but every jump 
 seemed slower — the trees moved leisurely by, while each 
 moment of the precious hour was gifted with more than 
 Mercury's speed. 
 
 She was trying to save a Northern lover from South- 
 ern vengeance ; still she appealed to her pony — her only 
 ally — in the name of a Southern hero. '' On, Pelham ! 
 on! be worthy of your gallant name-sake. Faster! 
 faster I What ? Have you lost the use of your feet ? 
 Faster ! it is for his life — more precious than all the 
 world. Win this race — perform this duty, and hence- 
 forth 3^our life shall be one of ease and equine luxury. 
 What? Are you about to fail? You, who were consid- 
 ered worthy to bear the name of the "Boy Soldier," who 
 never faltered before any duty? Oh, my God help 
 us." 
 
 She thought she knew this path well — had travelled 
 it often before — but surely there has been some change ; 
 it had grown longer ; aye, distances had stretched 
 out and doubled themselves. "And what if Colonel 
 Harris and his regiment had gone off in some other 
 dii'ection, and after all, I should miss him?" The 
 
BELLEVIEW. 321 
 
 burning eyes grew larger, and the sharp upper teeth 
 brought a red stain from the under lip at this harrowing 
 thought. This possibility had not crossed her mind 
 when she caught up Mollie's suggestion. The idea tliat 
 then presented itself was, that she had so many miles to 
 ride in ^oing after, and so many in bringing back the 
 desired succor. This she might accomplish in the pre- 
 scribed time ; but what good would it do if she failed to 
 find the Confederates ? Under the impulse of the mo- 
 ment she had come off on a doubtful errand, when she 
 should have gone direct to Wyndship. His captors 
 would have yielded to her representations. They would 
 not — they could not carry their brutal sentence into exe- 
 cution while she stood by his side, while her person was 
 interposed as a shield for his protection. They were 
 Southern men, and though hardened and brutalized by 
 war, still possessed some of the Southern respect and 
 chivalric feeling toward womankind. They would re- 
 member their mothers, their wives, and their sisters, and 
 .yield to her entreaties. She was losing — had lost — pre- 
 cious moments that could never be recalled ; aye, was 
 expending her horse's strength in what might prove a 
 fruitless errand. Had she not better turn back before 
 it was too late ? She asked the question in mute appeal 
 to some higher judgment, some greater omniscience 
 than her own ; but in vain. She asked the question even 
 of the inanimate objects around ; but the radiant, indif- 
 ferent sunshine, the musical, melancholy pines, and the 
 heartless, leafless undergrowth, all refused to answer. 
 
 But it would not do to despair. " One more effort, 
 my gallant pony — call up all your strength for one more 
 effort, and these doubts will be decided. Over this rise 
 and we strike the main road, and if — " Ah, that cruel 
 if, and still more cruel disappointment. These pine 
 woods are so much alike — each long slant, and each 
 sluggish stream, with its fringe of wild indigo and gall- 
 berry bushes, just like the one preceding. This rise is 
 not the last, for when the top was reached, the eager 
 eyes beheld another long descent, another meandering 
 •' branch," with another lengthening rise beyond. Even 
 it might not be the last, for she had taken no note of the 
 number passed, and knew not how many were before. 
 
 On the pony plunged, scattering his foam over the 
 dead leaves and grass, and shaking his extended Jjead in 
 
322 A RIDE FOR HELP. 
 
 mute protest against the ceaseless lashing of the bridle- 
 reins. Never before had his speed been called in ques- 
 tion — never before had he found his mistress so exact- 
 ing. Strive and strain as he might, still unsatisfied she 
 called for greater exertions. Nobly did he respond, 
 still the endless procession of pines moved by in a slow 
 and solemn march, chanting their harrowing dirge, while 
 each leafless bush and shrub seemed to be mocking all 
 his efforts. Still the heartless, sliimmering sunshine fell 
 in golden showers, jeering at her misery, and taunting 
 her bursting heart with its own exuberant brightness. 
 Chilly with fear, and distracted with doubts, with her 
 pulse one moment beating in unison with her horse's 
 hoofs, and the next, as still as if her blood had ceased 
 to flow, Elma could only pray, and hope, and despair. 
 
 But Pelham proved equal to this much of his task, for 
 surel}", 3^onder fringe of bushes must be the road ; and 
 — what is that? Oh, the jo^'ful sight — men on horse- 
 back, with guns in hand, watching her swift approach. 
 They had heard the beating of the pony's feet, and had 
 thrown out videttes to ascertain the cause, and the next 
 moment she was surrounded by armed men, whose 
 weather-beaten, battle-scarred visages glowed with cu- 
 rious interest and surprise. 
 
 '' Is this the — th Georgia cavalry? " she demanded, 
 in a broken, panting voice. 
 
 "Yes, madam," answered one, an oflScer, touching 
 his hat. 
 
 '* Where is Colonel Harris? '* 
 
 '' There he is, coming up the road." 
 
 Hurriedly turning, for no time must be lost, she 
 found herself face to face with the friend she was seeking. 
 
 " Oh ! Colonel Harris " 
 
 "Elma! is that 3^ou? Why, what does this mean? 
 What is the matter?" 
 
 " I — I have come after you — I want you to go " 
 
 "What? Are there any Yankees over about Belle- 
 view?" he asked, as she broke down, his eyes scanning 
 her white face, and, at the same time, taking note of her 
 pony's exhausted condition. " If there is," he added, 
 " and they have been committing any of their outrages, 
 we'll make them pay for it with heavy interest." 
 
 ' ' Oh no ! not that — I have come after you to save — to 
 stop an execution — a murder,'* 
 
BELLEVIEW. 323 
 
 •' What execution? " 
 
 ''That of 1113^ — friend — your friend, Mr. Wyndship. 
 He has been captured by some bushwhackers, who are 
 going to kill him." 
 
 "Who?" 
 
 " Mr. Wyndship." 
 
 "Wyndship? Wyndship? Who is — — I thought he 
 was in the Yankee army ? " 
 
 " He has been captured, I tell you ! " she cried, impa- 
 tient with his slow apprehension ; " and they are going 
 to murder him ! " 
 
 " You seem to be very much disturbed about the death 
 of an enemy — a Union soldier," he said, meaningly. 
 
 A hunted and despairing look came into her eyes. 
 Was it possible that this friend would refuse to interfere 
 — this one, on whom she had so undoubtingly relied? 
 
 " What is all this about, anyhow ? " he asked. " Tell 
 me the circumstances." 
 
 " But we haven't time," she pleaded — " he dies at 
 half-past ten o'clock, and it is long miles from here. 
 Oh ! why do you hesitate, while every moment is pre- 
 cious? Colonel Harris, will you not do this for me? 
 Will you not help me save his life ? " 
 
 Her friend had not been so slow of apprehension as 
 she thought. He remembered some things he had heard 
 in the past, and guessed pretty close to the motives that 
 brought the Northern teacher back to Somerville, and 
 also the cause of Elma's interest in his fate ; neither 
 could he resist the anguish in her eyes and the pleadings 
 in her voice. 
 
 " Certainly, I will," he replied with sudden decision. 
 " Certainly, I'll try. Where is he — Avhere must we go? " 
 
 "At the old negro church on the road to Harper's 
 bridge. Oh ! be quick — hurry — get there in time, and 
 I'll " 
 
 But Colonel Harris did not wait to hear what would be 
 his reward, and was already giving orders for a detail of 
 a few of his best-mounted men to accompany him- 
 
 " Select the best horses, Lieutenant," he said to a 
 subaltern; "never mind the number — four, or five, or 
 less will do, so they are well mounted. " But," he 
 added, raising his voice and addressing the command, 
 " who of you know the road to Harper's bridge, or the 
 
324 A RIDE FOR ilELP. 
 
 nearest way to that old church ? I do not remember it 
 myself, and we must have a guide." 
 
 " I will show you — I came the nearest way," Elma 
 answered immediately. ' ' I am going with you — I 
 must," she added, when she saw hesitation in his face. 
 
 " My child, your horse is blown, and, I dare say, you 
 are exhausted. It will be too much for j^our powers of 
 endurance ; besides, your horse will not hold out." 
 
 " Oh, yes, he will — won't he? " with a pitiful tremor 
 in her voice. *' I miist go with j^ou to show the nearest 
 way. Oh ! Colonel Harris ; he will hold out, I'm sure." 
 
 '' The young lady might change horses with me," sug- 
 gested the officer to whom she had first spoken. " Mine 
 is in good condition, and is very fleet." 
 
 She cast a quick scrutinizing glance at the animal be- 
 neath the speaker. 
 
 *'He is perfectly safe for a lady who can ride like 
 you," he continued, misapprehending the meaning of 
 the look. But she was not thinking about that — it was 
 the horse's speed and endurance she was trying to esti- 
 mate. 
 
 " Thank you ! " she cried ; " thank you ever so much 
 for the exchange — only be quick," and springing to the 
 ground, with nervous fingers she commenced trying to 
 unfasten her saddle-girth. However, other and stronger 
 hands, which had been stimulated into action by sym- 
 pathy for her distress, interposed, and in a very short 
 period of time the saddles were exchanged and she lifted 
 back into her seat. Colonel Harris and his subordinate 
 had been equally expeditious in making their arrange- 
 ments, and soon reported ready. 
 
 "Take the regiment on to Somerville, Major, and 
 there wait until you hear from us," shouted the former 
 as he followed Elma, who, at the word ready, had darted 
 off through the scraggy undergrowth in the direction she 
 had come. 
 
 " My God ! can't she ride," exclaimed the Major, ad- 
 miringly, as he watched the rescue party. " Didn't she 
 say the bushwhackers were about to kill somebody?" 
 
 " They were about to kill a Yankee prisoner, I think," 
 answered one of his men. 
 
 "No; it was the Yankees who were about to kill 
 some one for bushwhacking — her lover, I reckon," cor- 
 rected another. 
 
BELLEVIEW. 325 
 
 " Well, I don't care who it is — Yankee or Rebel," re- 
 plied the Major ; '' he is a lucky fellow to have her on 
 his side." 
 
 " What fix do you suppose Zip will be in, when you 
 see him again ? " jestingly inquired another, as the officer 
 was critically examining the almost exhausted pony left 
 on his hands. 
 
 " In about as bad a fix as this pony is now, I reckon," 
 he answered, in a tone of regret for the good steed who 
 had borne him so faithfully during many a wearisome 
 march, as well as through many an imminent danger. 
 ''But then. Zip is like his master," he added, philo- 
 sophically, " and can't refuse anything to the ladies. 
 Whatever they demand of us must be done, even if we 
 break our fool necks in the act. Well, it is all right, 
 anyhow, I reckon — he might as well be ridden to death 
 by some pretty woman in trying to save her sweetheart, 
 as to be shot to death by some cursed Yankee bullet. I 
 wish I were that sweetheart, though." 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 ARTHUR LEAVES NOTHING TO FATE, BUT GOES IN TO WIN. 
 
 Captain Barnes was restless. After granting the 
 short respite to his prisoner, he immediately left the 
 party, and commenced pacing up and down the road. 
 He felt anything but comfortable about this affair. 
 Somehow the conviction that Wyndship was guiltless of 
 the charges against him, and that he was permitting the 
 murder of an innocent man, would rise to trouble his 
 conscience. He tried to quiet the monitor by assuring 
 it that it was not his act — that he had " left it to the 
 boys," and it was their doing — not his ; but still it per- 
 sisted in calling his attention to the fact that it was his 
 duty to have taken a part in the verdict, and to have 
 used his influence and authority in the cause of right and 
 justice ; that the duties of his command, as well as the 
 common instincts of humanity, demanded as much, and, 
 if a mistake was committed, the heaviest responsibility 
 would rest on his shoulders. Convicted on this point, 
 he tried to find justification in another way. " He is 
 
326 ARTHUR GOES IN TO "V\aN. 
 
 only a Yankee," he argued to bis conscience, '^ and they 
 liave done much worse things than this. He is a soklier, 
 and must expect to run the risk of death in some shape 
 or other ; hut his side — his comrades — have shot down 
 paaceable and inoffensive old men on the slightest provo- 
 cation ; aye, and brought worse than death to helpless 
 women and innocent girls." Then why should he care, 
 if this man — one of tlie South' s hated enemies — a mem- 
 ber of that army which was, even now, carrying death 
 and destruction throughout the Confederacy with such 
 ruthless barbarity — why should he care if he paid the 
 penalty for his comrades' sins ? 
 
 But Barnes was not naturally a bad man, and these 
 excuses were not entirely satisfactory. He had seen 
 many of the outrages perpetrated by the Federal sol- 
 diery during the campaign, and had heard of much more. 
 He hated his enemies cordially, and had won some repu- 
 tation as a desperate and ferocious fighter ; but that was 
 in fair combat and according to the rules and usages of 
 war. If his company had never been over-anxious to 
 make prisoners, still those that were made had always 
 been accorded the privileges to which they were en- 
 titled. He had started out that morning determined on 
 swift and summary vengeance, but, face to face with the 
 supposed criminal, his ardor had unaccountably cooled. 
 He was no lawyer, and could not legally anal3^ze the evi- 
 dence he had heard, but his good sense told him that it 
 w^as insufficient, and, besides, the prisoner's speech, 
 manners and appearances all contradicted Blufkins's 
 tale. With these doubts, or rather with this conviction 
 strong in his mind, he could not delude his conscience 
 into acquiescing to the verdict ; but what was he to do ? 
 How was he to help himself without violating his promise 
 to his followers? Three of them at least, he felt as- 
 sured, would not quietly submit, and division and strife 
 with and among his men were the last things to be de- 
 sired. 
 
 Suddenly he paused in his restless promenading, and 
 calling to the one named Sam, ordered him to ride across 
 to the ambush on the other road, and to tell Lieutenant 
 Dawson to bring his part of the company over to the 
 church, and then to go back to the camp after the other 
 two prisoners. He had made up his mind to make an 
 attempt to set aside the verdict, and thought that, pos- 
 
BELLEVIEW. 327 
 
 sibly, in all his command, lie would have support enough 
 to overrule the opposition. He also cnlcuhited that 
 there would still be time enough for the other prisoners 
 to arrive and be examined as AVyndship had demanded. 
 If their evidence should corroborate that given by Bluf- 
 kins his conscience would be satisfied ; if not, then the 
 sentence must not be executed. 
 
 When Arthur Slaton left his father's place to join the 
 Scouts, he naturally sought the nearest party, which 
 happened to be the one commanded by Lieutenant Daw- 
 son. He had so far overcome his fears as to decide on 
 taking one more step in carrying out his revenge, and 
 that if his plot failed, it should not be through any fault 
 of his. The bridge had been cut down behind him, and 
 he must now succeed in destrojing his enemy or be de- 
 stroyed himself. Self-preservation was now allied with 
 the desire for revenge, and both feelings were the 
 strongest incentives that had ever prompted his cow- 
 ardly, malignant nature to action. He still had confi- 
 dence in the power of his tongue —the only weapon he 
 ever dared to use — and fully appreciated the influence 
 of one person in a critical moment. A few words 
 rightly spoken, at the proper time ; aye, an insinuation, 
 or even a look, will often decide the verdict, or exdte the 
 passions of a mob, and if a plentiful use of these means 
 could effect it, Wyndship should die. 
 
 During the short ride he arranged in his mind the de- 
 tails of another confession, which he hastened to reveal 
 to the Confederates as soon as he reached their station. 
 This confession, he claimed, was made to him privately 
 by one of the two prisoners left at the camp, and related 
 to numerous cruelties and barbarities that AVyndship had 
 inflicted, not only on Rebel captives, but also on non- 
 combatants who had fallen into his power during the 
 war. The necessities of his position had greatly excited 
 his gift at lying, and he painted his narrative in the 
 highest colors ; in fact, laid on the vermilion much 
 heavier than was prudent. He did not stop to consider 
 the certainty of his falsehoods coming to light, or wliat 
 might be their secondary effect on himself — he cared 
 nothing for the after-clap just then, provided he suc- 
 ceeded in destroying his enem}'. Tiie very boldness and 
 imprudence of his statements brought him l3elief and suc- 
 cess ; for his auditors, knowing nothing of the personal 
 
328 ARTHUR GOES IN TO WIN. 
 
 relations between himself and Wjmdship, and suspect- 
 ing no animosit}^ except natural resentment at the sup- 
 posed attempt against his and his father's life b}^ the 
 latter, saw no reason for foul pla}^ on his part. Even a 
 fool, they thought, would know better than to tell false- 
 hoods that could be so easily disproved, and that, too, 
 without more than an hour or two's delay. Moreover, 
 they each and all already carried a heavy load of resent- 
 ment towards the Yankees, and thought that the time 
 had come for a little retaliation, anyhow ; consequently, 
 the effect of his tale was all he could have desired. 
 
 Just as he finished, Sam rode up with Barnes's mes- 
 sage, and informed them all of what had transpired at 
 the old church. As Sam had voted against conviction, 
 he naturally expressed himself favorably towards the 
 condemned man, revealing his doubts of the justness of 
 the sentence, and stating, too, that the Captain was also 
 in doubt. This opinion was met by a storm of angry 
 dissent b}^ Dawson's part}^, who, with stern, set lips and 
 flaming eyes, started at once for the rendezvous. Slaton 
 went along with them ; his scheme was working ad- 
 mirabl}^, and he was determined to see it through. 
 
 " Phew !" ejaculated Sam, as he watched them ride 
 away. " There'll be hell to pay when that crowd gets 
 .there. I think the Captain has made a mistake (that is, 
 if he's arter what I think he is) , an' will haf 'ter roost 
 powerful low, onless he wants a rumpus with his own 
 men. That Yankee Major is gone up, onless something 
 turns up in his favor might}^ darned quick." 
 
 "There's something d d strange about this whole 
 
 affair, enyhow," he added, musingly, after a moment's 
 thought, " 'n' I don't understand it. There's a bug un- 
 der the chip some'ers, or my name ain't Sam Kidley. That 
 Yankee Major don't look nor talk like a bad man, 'n' 
 the other fellow does. If he aint a rascal he ought to 
 sue his own face for libel — any jury would give him 
 damages. Well, I'm gwine ter see what them other two 
 fellers has got to say, 'n' if their tale don't agree with 
 Blufkins's I'll hustle 'em over there in double-quick 
 time. If it does, then — well, there'll be no use in hur- 
 ry in'." Having come to this conclusion, he urged his 
 war-worn steed into as rapid a pace as was warranted by 
 his broken-down condition. 
 
 Sam's prognostications with reference to his Captain 
 
BELLEVIEW. 329 
 
 and his comrades proved true. On the arrival of Daw- 
 son's party, Barnes found that, as far as saving the life 
 of the condemned man was concerned, the increased 
 numbers only added to his own helplessness. They were 
 not at all disposed to accept his view of the case, or to be 
 influenced by his arguments and representations, and 
 were an overpowering reinforcement, not for him, but 
 for Jim and Peeler. Finding his efforts useless, and not 
 wishing to participate in, or witness the execution, he 
 walked away np the road towards Somerville, leaving 
 his Lieutenant to manage the affair as he, or rather as the 
 men, pleased. The latter were all from ^Middle Tennes- 
 see, a section which had suffered severely during the 
 war, and many of them had friends or families who had 
 been cruelly treated by the Northern troops. Maddened 
 and excited by Slaton's artful tongue, and firmly believ- 
 ing in Wyndship's guilt, they were determined to en- 
 force the verdict, thereby visiting on the offender an act 
 of just retribution, and at the same time satisfy their 
 own thirst for revenge. 
 
 When assured that Carlos had got safely away, our 
 hero's spirits quickly revived. He felt satisfied that his 
 friends would come promptly to his assistance, and, 
 without an accident, would arrive before the appointed 
 hour ; consequently, it was more to occupy the time of 
 waiting than because he anticipated the worst, that he 
 took out his order book and commenced writing, what 
 might be his last words to Elma. Even under his pres- 
 ent circumstances writing to her was not an unpleasant 
 task ; in fact, it was the most agreeable way in which to 
 pass the time ; therefore he gave her an account of his 
 capture, of his mock trial, and of his hopes of rescue. 
 After this came the natural protestations of a lover, as- 
 surances that her image was coustantl}^ before him, and 
 that thoughts of her alone held sway over his mind while 
 awaiting the dreadful alternative. This finished, he had 
 only to wait the measured march of moments, which are 
 neither hastened nor delayed by any man's necessities ; 
 and each of which carried him nearer his salvation, or 
 his doom. 
 
 The animated discussion which followed the arrival 
 of the second party attracted his attention, but it 
 was carried on too far off, and in too low a tone, for 
 him to understand its meaning. Slaton did not take an 
 
330 ARTHUR GOES IN TO ^VIN. 
 
 open part iu this discussion, and he also carefully kept 
 himself out of the range of his victim's sight. To en- 
 compass the latter's destruction was all he desired, and 
 he did not care or dare to regale himself with the pleas- 
 ure of taunts and abuse. Had his own position been 
 more secure it might have been different, but it would 
 not do to run any risks of balking his own scheme just 
 now, for the mere satisfaction of jeering his enemy. 
 
 It was a few minutes past ten o'clock, and ^Vyndship's 
 attention was alread}^ turned anxiously in the direction 
 of Somei'^ille, when his guards ordered him to rise. 
 
 " What do you want? " he demanded, i^romptly obey- 
 ing the order. 
 
 " You'll find out directly," was the evasive answer. 
 They marched him forward to the side of the road and 
 halted. 
 
 *' What does this mean?" he cried, the truth suddenly 
 flashing into his mind, as he noticed a squad of six 
 ranging themselves on the opposite side with their guns 
 in their hands. 
 
 "It means that your time is up." 
 
 "But it is not up — you are mistaken — it is not half-past 
 ten yet, and your Captain gave me until then. See for 
 yourselves," he added, pulling out his watch. 
 
 "It is none of our fault if 3'our watch is too slow," 
 was the sullen answer. 
 
 "It is not too slow — look at your own watches." 
 
 For an answer they seized his arms ; which, after a 
 struggle, were securely tied behind him. His feet were 
 then secured by a short rope that did not prevent his 
 standing, but precluded all attempts to run. In vain he 
 protested against such indignities, as well as against the 
 curtailment of his short respite ; apparentl}" his remon- 
 strances fell on deaf ears, or hardened hearts. Finding 
 his struggles and appeals both useless, he desisted ; and, 
 recovering his self-possession, he drew himself together 
 to meet his fate like a brave man should. ]SIore than 
 one of his captors secretly admired his cool demeanor 
 and unflinching courage, but others became only the 
 more enraged. It stung Jim like a thousand scorpions, 
 to see anything in a Yankee which he was compelled to 
 respect. Dawson then approached, and with some show 
 of feeling, offered to receive any messages and any val- 
 uables he might have about him, and to transmit them 
 
BELLEVIEW. 331 
 
 safely to his friends. AVymlship indignantly rejected 
 the offer, and looking past the officer, noticed the one 
 called Smith standing to one side, watching.him in pity- 
 ing silence. 
 
 ''I prefer the services of that man," he said. "He 
 seems to have some conscience, and some idea of right 
 and justice." 
 
 Dawson stepped back and motioned to Smith, who 
 approached the prisoner. 
 
 '' My friend," said Wyndship, in a steady voice, sup- 
 pressing the indignation and horror he naturally felt, 
 '* will you do a service for a dying man? " 
 
 " Willingly," was the reply, in a tone not near so firm 
 as the one in which the question had been put. 
 
 *' Then feel in my breast pocket and take out that 
 note-book — that is it. Now, there is a ring on my fin- 
 ger — take that off. Now, my watch. There — I want you 
 to take these things to a Miss Owens, who lives at 
 Belleview — Colonel Gachet's home — between here and 
 Somerville. Deliver them to her yourself — in person. 
 Will you do this for me ? " 
 
 " 1 will." 
 
 '' Thank you for the promise, and rest assured that 
 you have a dying man's prayer to God, that He may 
 preserve you from a fate like his — aye, and that j^ou 
 may escape the dangers of this war, and return in safety 
 to your loved ones at home. Take my pocket-book, too 
 — in it you will find some money, which I want you to 
 keep. This war will soon be over, and you will need it 
 in the wreck that will follow the downfall of the South. 
 
 Break j^our news to El to Miss Owens as lightly 
 
 as you can— but why tell you that, as if such news could 
 come to her in but one way? Oh ! God, help her to bear 
 it." For the first time his voice broke down, and a 
 shudder of pain and horror shook his frame. Soon 
 mastering his emotions, he continued: "Tell Colonel 
 Gachetall about this affair — the whole truth. That I 
 believe that I am the victim of some conspiracy, which 
 I cannot now fathom, but which may some day come to 
 light. I make these, my last requests, of 3^ou, because I 
 can see from your face that you are sorry for me, and 
 that you regret the decision of your comrades. Never 
 mind," he added, interrupting Smith's protestations. 
 ♦'You are in no wise to blame, and I want you to tell 
 
332 ARTHUR GOES IN TO WIN. 
 
 my friends that 3'ou are not responsible for, and could 
 not prevent this murder. 
 
 '' If it is God's good pleasure for me to die now, and in 
 this way, it must be for the best, and I must submit like 
 a brave man. Tell my friends how I bore myself to the 
 last, and tell Elma — Miss Owens, that my last thoughts 
 were of her. Now go — as it is inevitable, the sooner it 
 is over the better. Good-bj^e, and may God prosper and 
 preserve j^ou." 
 
 Smith turued and walked slowly aAvay, the tears 
 dropping from his eyes. AVyndsliip's head dropped upon 
 his breast, and for a moment he stood like one silently 
 praying. Dawson shifted his position uneasilj^, cleared 
 his throat once or twice, glanced along the ranks of his 
 men as if in search of their moral support, and then 
 called out hesitatingly : 
 
 " You can kneel, either with your back to the file, or 
 facing them, as 3'ou prefer — or we will blindfold you." 
 
 Wyndship raised his head, and the color came back to 
 his cheeks. " I will face them standing," he cried, in a 
 clear, defiant tone, without a tremor in its note. *' I pre- 
 fer to die with my face to the foe, even if that foe is 
 nothing but a mob of cowardly murderers." 
 
 He gazed unflinchingly into the faces of his execution- 
 ers, until the glance of more than one shifted to some other 
 object. Then he turned his eyes for a last look on the earth 
 and sky, that had appeared so bright and beautiful but 
 a few hours before. The time had come for him to say 
 good-bye to these forever ; aye, and a last farewell to 
 the delirious hopes, the joyous life, and the love-lit future, 
 which had intoxicated his imagination that very morn- 
 ing. All this was past, was gone — had vanished like the 
 phantasm of a dream, and before him — at his feet — lay 
 a dark and dishonored grave. And beyond this grave 
 there was something even worse than it — the despair and 
 misery of the woman he loved — the heavy load of heart- 
 break and sorrow which her shoulders must bear — those 
 shoulders which he had fondly decreed should bear noth- 
 ing heavier than the mantle of love and happiness. All 
 this had been crowded into a few short hours — the two 
 greatest extremes of life, and now — its end. 
 
 If his fortitude faltered when he thought of this, it 
 was quickly restored when his eyes fell on Blufkins, 
 whose brutal face was now distorted with the pleasure 
 
BELLEVIEW. 333 
 
 of revenge. Did he also see on the opposite side a pair 
 of eager, exultant eyes, gleaming from behind a tree? 
 If so, he made no sign as he turned again to the front. 
 Everyone's attention was now fixed on the scene and 
 on him, its principal figure. Every interest was centered 
 on the tragedy about to be enacted ; and with various 
 emotions— regretful pity, heartless indifference, cruel re- 
 venge, malignant hate, and gloating triumph — waited 
 the final stroke in breathless silence. Slowly the com- 
 mands were given and obeyed : j 
 
 ''Attention, squad — Present arms — Make ready — 
 Take aim " 
 
 "Hold up, there ! — stop ! " shouted a voice from up 
 the road. Those that turned, saw Barnes waving his 
 hand, and heard him repeat the command to stop. Be- 
 yond him, coming around a bend in the road at full speed, 
 was a party of horsemen, with a woman riding in front. 
 They too were hallooing and eagerly gesticulating, as they 
 urged ou their horses. What did it mean ? Were they 
 enemies, or friends? 
 
 Dawson mechanically repeated his Captain's order, 
 but it was only partly obeyed. The devilish eyes from 
 behind the tree were also on the alert, and their owner, 
 Arthur Slaton, was amongst the first to see the new- 
 comers, and by several seconds the first to guess the 
 truth. 
 
 "Fire!" he cried, springing from his shelter, and 
 throwing aside all concealment in his desperation. 
 "Fire! shoot down the spy." And then jumping on 
 his horse, he galloped away. 
 
 Five of the six carbines were already on their way to 
 the "rest," in obedience to Dawson's order; but the 
 sixth one, held by Jim, still covered the prisoner with a 
 deliberate aim. His attention had never been drawn 
 from his victim, nor would his eyes leave the sights — 
 the blood of his old gray-headed father called too 
 loudly for revenge, and at Slaton's command, he pulled 
 the trigger. For some seconds after the report Wynd- 
 ship stood erect, as if untouched, then a quiver ran 
 through his body, the blood spurted from his breast, and 
 he fell forward on his face. An instant later, the rescue 
 party dashed in among his captors. 
 
 "Too late! Oh! my God— too late!" screamed 
 Elma. Slipping from her saddle, she staggered two or 
 
3"!: TUE SUEKENDr.;\ 
 
 three steps towards where her lover's body lay, and then 
 fell forward by his side in a swoon. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 : THE SURRENDER. 
 
 The Christmas of 1864, a Christmas only in name to 
 the stricken people of Georgia, came and passed. Its 
 coming brought no cheering influences ; neither could its 
 passing into the eternity of the past add to the universal 
 gloom which covered the land. The situation had be- 
 come too desperate for that — too dark to be lightened by 
 any holiday, the load too heavy to notice the weight of 
 additional burdens, xsot that they liad lost all faith and 
 hope,' for these they could not lose as long as the " Stars 
 and Bars" still waved defiance to the foe ; but it was a 
 hope without reason, and faith founded on despair. To 
 give these up was national death ; aye, was worse, for 
 it vras giving up faith in all upon which they had so 
 fondly relied. It was giving up faith in the wisdom of 
 their rulers, in the skill of their generals, in the prowess 
 of their citizen soldiery, their fathers, their brothers, 
 Mid their sons. It was giving up faith even in the jus- 
 tice of their God himself. All this they could not do, 
 and blindly pushed aside the cup of defeat and humili- 
 ation which they so soon had to drain to its bitterest 
 dregs. For mutual encouragement, they assured each 
 other that when the spring opened, the invincible Lee 
 would quickly hurl his antagonist back from beleaguered 
 Richmond, while Johnston's skeleton brigades would be 
 strengthened and recuperated by reinforcements, who 
 would visit upon the hated Shennan the punishments 
 that he so riehl}" deserved. 
 
 What unreasonable faith ! What blind infatuation I 
 From whence did they expect these reinforcements to 
 come? Could their genial clime and lovely country 
 breed soldiers, like its stagnant bayous did mosquitoes? 
 Or did they expect the spirits of those who had fallen at 
 Atlanta and Jonesboro', at Franklin and Nashville, to 
 rehabilitate themselves with flesh and blood, that they 
 might die a second time, in order that the Southern Con- 
 
BELLEviEw. i}yr> 
 
 federacy might live ? Did they believe that their gener- 
 als were endowed with superhuman power, or did they 
 expect the God of battles to perform miracles in their 
 behalf — to turn the puissant artillery of Heaven against 
 their swarming enemies ? Little short of this could have 
 brouglit success at that late day ; still they believed and 
 hoped on, if we can so describe tlie passionate longing 
 of their hearts. Faith can, and sometimes does, stimu- 
 late a people to wonderful deeds, but it cannot accom- 
 plish the impossible. It had nerved them to make the 
 greatest struggle of history — it had covered their armies 
 with glory, but it could do no more, and the end had 
 come. 
 
 Neither could such faith bring consolation to the ach- 
 ing hearts of those whose loved ones had already fallen, 
 nor relieve tho anxious suspense of others, who so far 
 had escaped the dread intelligence. It could not wipe 
 away the orphan's tear, it could not lessen the widow's 
 sorrow, it could not hush the mother's sobs. It could 
 not lighten the burden of those who had made, or were 
 making, their greatest sacrifice on the altar of their 
 country. It could not bring smiles to their care-worn 
 faces, or the light of joy to their tear-laden eyos. It 
 could not steady the shaking hand, or still the throbbing 
 heart, when each delayed letter or paper was opened, in 
 search of the news they hardly dared to read. If it 
 blinded their judgment as to the result, it could not de- 
 lude them from their misery, nor make them insensible 
 to the constant presence of a fear, whose sickening tor- 
 tures gave their hearts no rest. 
 
 Neither could it make this Christmas like the Christ- 
 mases of old. It could not bring back the happy fes- 
 tivities, the enlivening fun, the merry catching of 
 " Christmas gifts" amidst young and old, and between 
 master and servant, which had ever made this holy anni- 
 versary enjoyable to all alike. There was no dancing in 
 the quarter to the music of the banjo and of the reed 
 flute — no family dinners at the " big-house," to be fol- 
 lowed by balls in the evening, where youth and beauty 
 moved in rhythmic measure to the melting strains of sable 
 violinists. This kind of holidays had passed, never 
 again to return to Georgia. Instead, there was fasting 
 at home because '^ our boys" were fasting in the army ; 
 and prayers at home and at church ; prayers with 
 
336 THE STTBREI^DER. 
 
 streaming eyes and aching hearts — in figurative sack- 
 cloth and ashes — for the salvation of their country, and 
 for the preservation of their soldiers. 
 
 So the Christmas of 1864 passed, and after it the dull, 
 dreary days of January — days of mournful visage and 
 of weeping rain, as if nature and nature's God sympa- 
 thized with sorrowing man. Hiding her sun behind 
 leaden clouds, she alternately bestowed on the cheerless 
 earth showers of tear-drops and of stinging sleet, 
 while cold and cruel winds swept through the leafless 
 branches of the oaks, and over the ever-complaining 
 pines, wailing and screaming like the cry of despair in 
 the human heart. A month fearfully in unison with the 
 condition of the country, and possibly lamenting the un- 
 timel}'' death of the rollicking /efe days, wliich had hith- 
 erto ushered it in. But nature, like mankind, cannot al- 
 ways mourn, and February developed a brighter mood, 
 showing how truly one extreme will follow another, and 
 reaction come out of every excess. The generous, hope- 
 ful sun rebelled against a longer exclusion, and rending 
 the gloomy clouds asunder, poured out his merry smiles 
 and life-producing rays on the despairing earth. In 
 quick appreciation of these loving attentions, the early 
 buds and flowers came forth to add their brightness to 
 the joyful renaissance, and for this southern clime, win- 
 ter's cruel despotism was over. 
 
 The middle of February, St. Valentine's day, came in 
 the midst of this good spell of weather ; bright enough 
 for May, and almost as warm ; a soft south breeze played 
 gently with the swelling twigs, and with the early spring 
 flowers, the daffodils, snow-drops, and crocuses, in Mrs. 
 Martin's yard. Leaving these, it wandered around the 
 corner, and quietly stole up for a whiff at the box of violets 
 in the partly open window of Wyndship's old room. Then, 
 not presuming to enter, it tossed a part of its burden of 
 fragrance inside, and noiselessly went on its way in 
 search of other blossoms and swelling buds. The room 
 itself was very much the same as when we first entered 
 it, only the snow-white curtains and bed-spread had 
 given place to others of darker hue, and in the open 
 fire-place now burnt a moderate fire. In an arm-chair, 
 placed on the rug in such a way as to receive both the 
 fire's warmth and the odors from the window, sat, or 
 rather reclined, its old occupant ; but so pale, emaciated 
 
feKT.LEVTEW. 337 
 
 find liollow-C3^cd, that it requires a second look to con- 
 vince us of his identity. 
 
 AVyndship's fight for life had been a hard one. For 
 weeks it had seemed to his friends that one bullet had 
 been too truly aimed for its murderous effects to be 
 overcome ; and even now, although the doctor had pro- 
 nounced him on the way to convalescence, it still looked 
 like death had not altogether surrendered its hold on its 
 victim. Devoted nursing, such as only love can give, 
 had contested his claim unflinchingl}' , and had so far 
 won the battle, that the rescued one was slowly regain- 
 ing a little of the old-time health and vigor. 
 
 Dr. Hurst and Mr. Martin arrived at the old church 
 about the time that Colonel Harris's efforts had brought 
 Elma back to consciousness. On examination, Wynd- 
 ship was found to be still alive, and the former decided 
 that there was one chance in a hundred for his recovery. 
 A wagon was quickly obtained, and against Elma's pro- 
 test, he was carefully conveyed to Somerville, to Mr. 
 Martin's home. She wanted him taken to Belleview, 
 and when overruled by the two gentlemen, she refused 
 to leave his side, and shared the duties of nurse with 
 Mrs. Martin, giving him just such devoted attentions as 
 the Doctor declared, " would almost raise the dead." 
 Pale, but tearless, she hung around his bed day and 
 night, seemingly lost to every other consideration but 
 that of love, and deaf alike to the expostulations and 
 entreaties of her friends ; but on the announcement that 
 all dangerous symptoms had subsided, and that her lov- 
 er's life was saved, there came a sudden change in her. 
 Stealing off to a vacant room, she first gave wixy to the 
 tears which had hitherto been suppressed, only they 
 were now tears of joy, and were mingled with praise and 
 thanksgiving to a merciful God. But the change did 
 not stop here, and in a few days, when it became evident 
 that the improvement in the patient's condition was 
 more than a temporary rally, she returned home to 
 Belleview. It seemed as if she, who had been so re- 
 gardless of appearances, who had shown such utter in- 
 difference to the critical comments of others on her 
 course in going to his rescue, and in clinging to his bed- 
 side while recovery was doubtful, had suddenly awak- 
 ened to a most exaggerated sense of propriety. It is 
 true that she returned the next day for a short time, 
 
338 THE SURRENDER. 
 
 and again in a clay or two, but in proportion as the 
 wounded man grew stronger, her visits became less fre- 
 quent, until they had almost ceased, so Wyndship 
 thought ; for on this St. Valentine's day, it had been 
 nearly a week since her presence had relieved the dreary 
 monotony of his sick chamber. 
 
 Wyndship felt this deprivation keenly. Even when 
 at his lowest, his faculties had never been so dimmed or 
 clouded, but what he always knew her, and was aware 
 of her presence by his side. He could always tell the 
 touch of her hand from anyone else's, and evinced the 
 greatest pleasure in listening to the sound of her voice. 
 In fact, love seemed to be the loadstone which drew him 
 back to life, the anchor which kept his shattered vessel 
 off the breakers of death ; consequently, he missed her 
 cruelly when she went away, and worried over the slowly 
 passing hours and days between her visits. This ab- 
 sence of several days had been more than he could en- 
 dure with equanimity, and Mrs. IMartiu's watchful eyes 
 had easily discovered his discontent and its cause. 
 Though thoroughly a Southern woman, imbued with 
 much of the Southern prejudices, still she warmly sym- 
 pathized with her old-time protege, and disapproved of 
 anything, or anybody, that gave him pain. She thought 
 that, under the circumstances, Elma's suddenly-acquired 
 coyness and modesty were carried to an unnecessary 
 length, and, actuated by pity for AVyndship, a desire to 
 straighten matters between the two, if anything was 
 amiss, and, possibly, by a little of the feminine love of 
 the romantic, she had that morning improvised some ex- 
 cuse for writing the former a note requesting her to call, 
 making some little matter a pretext for wanting to see 
 her. The morning and part of the afternoon had passed 
 without bringing the desired response, and it began to 
 look as if her little ruse had failed. 
 
 During the last week the invalid had been allowed to 
 sit up a little each day, gradually increasing the length 
 of time as the exertion proved to have no bad effect. He 
 had been a very docile patient, submitting readily to the 
 authority of his nurses, and obediently returning to his 
 bed at their command ; but this day he suddenly became 
 rebellious, and obstinately insisted on remaining in his 
 chair, despite all of Mrs. Martin's protests. The good 
 weather did not have a good effect on his temper, and, 
 
BELLEVIEW. 33D 
 
 finding remonstrances were useless, she was forced to 
 let him have his own way. In truth, he was very much 
 " out of sorts," and felt recklessly indifferent about his 
 own welfare. What did he care for returning health, if 
 with it, he lost Elma ? What was the bright sunshine 
 and soft south wind worth to him, if he was to be de- 
 prived always of her presence ? Death was far prefer- 
 able to any life of which she did not constitute the most 
 important part. If she had ceased to love him, what did 
 it matter if he did sit up too long — if he did open his 
 wound afresh? His hopes of happiness would be dead, 
 and the sooner he followed them to the grave the better. 
 
 Mrs. Martin guessed very nearl}^ what was passing in 
 her patient's mind ; still, although she pitied him greatly, 
 she did not tell him of the note she had sent by Carlos. 
 Elma might not come, and the consequent disappoint- 
 ment might be worse than the present spell of the blues. 
 The latter would wear off in time, even if her efforts, 
 her pleasant chat and show of motherly sympathy, were 
 having no appreciable effect just then. The human 
 heart, like everything else, acts by reaction, and no one 
 condition is apt to last always. She was right ; her 
 gentle influence, assisted by the fragrance of the violets 
 and of the fresh air, and also possibly by his physical 
 exhaustion, triumphed, for the pale face turned towards 
 the window partly lost its irritable expression, and soon 
 his weary ej'es closed in quiet slumber. 
 
 It was fear of her own heart, and not fear of the 
 world's opinion, that was keeping Elma away. She 
 cared very little for the latter, but she had learned from 
 experience that the former could not always be con- 
 trolled. Notwithstanding all that had passed, she had 
 not yet entirely surrendered her principles and her preju- 
 dices. True, she had given way more than once to love, 
 as when AYyndship came so unexpectedly to her rescue ; 
 again, on the morning of their parting on the porch at 
 Belleview ; and again, more completely so, when he was 
 in danger, and when it seemed that death was about to 
 separate them forever. But this, she assured herself, 
 was only momentary weakness in the first two instances, 
 and in the latter, the probability of his escaping death 
 was too slight to necessitate the curbing of her heart. 
 When he commenced improving, however, her scruples 
 revived, and knowing the strength of the love she must 
 
340 THE SURRENDER. 
 
 overcome — that she was powerless to resist when it was 
 aided and supported by pity for his weakness — she re- 
 turned to Belleview, hoping that away from him she 
 could regain control of her heart, and school it to resist 
 the appeal which she knew he would make as soon as he 
 was able to follow her there. 
 
 To her mind, it still appeared nothing short of sacri- 
 lege for her, a daughter of the South, to marry one of 
 its enemies. For four years, nearly, she had accustomed 
 herself to regard her country as first in everything ; no 
 sacrifice of time, property, or personal inclinations in its 
 cause was considered too great — even life itself, if 
 necessary, for its success. Her strong, earnest, ardent 
 nature must needs have some object, or some principle, 
 on which to expend its force. Separated forever, as she 
 thought, from the man she loved, early influences, the 
 teachings of her father, the opinions and prejudices of 
 those around her, all tended to make patriotism that 
 principle, and the Southern Confederacy that object. 
 True, they filled the void only in part, still, as far as 
 they went, the dedication had been entire and without 
 reservation, and now, in the darkest hour of that coun- 
 try's trial, it looked like treachery of the deepest dye to 
 ally herself with one who had drawn his sword for its 
 supposed oppression. 
 
 It must not be — no happiness could result from such 
 an unholy alliance. The God of her country would 
 frown on the union, and sooner or later punish tliem 
 both for her impiety and betrayal of principle. She 
 must conquer her heart, suppress its longings, choke 
 into silence its pleadings for forbidden fruit, and, rising 
 above all selfish considerations, pursue her allotted 
 course to the end. With these arguments and senti- 
 ments she tried to satisfy, or at least hush, the voice of 
 love, and — also of conscience ; for despite such reasons 
 and such devotion to principles, the latter was not alto- 
 gether quiet. ''But you are also sacrificing another's 
 happiness," the secret mentor would say. "How do 
 you know that you are right, or that the South is not in 
 the wrong ; and even if it is not, what right have you to 
 punish him for the North's misdoings ? He had nothing 
 to do with the bringing on of this war, and only went 
 into it, careless of life, under a false conception that 
 you were heartless and untrue. He does not hate your 
 
BELLEVIEW. 341 
 
 country, but is ready to love it, and after this war is 
 over, to serve it for your sake. What sacrilege can 
 there be in marrying the man you love, and who loves 
 you, and whose truth and nobleness you have never 
 had any reason to doubt ? " These promptings were not 
 loud enough to drown the teachings of prejudices and 
 supposed duty, and only added to her unhappiness. 
 Through sleepless nights as well as during the heartless 
 day, the struggle between prejudice and love, between 
 principle and passion, went on, its very fierceness 
 proving the prudence of staying away from her lover's 
 side ; for she well knew that one touch of his emaciated 
 hand, one whisper of his broken voice, would test the 
 strength of the fortifications she was trying to build 
 around her heart. And then, too, she was troubled by 
 a continual fear that the danger of death for him was 
 not yet passed, and she knew not what day or hour some 
 caller or passer-by might not bring the dreaded news of 
 a relapse. Even the Doctor's assurance that he was 
 progressing finely, and would soon be on his feet, was 
 not conclusive, and did not quiet her morbid apprehen- 
 sion. If this fear should prove to be well founded, she 
 could never forgive herself for leaving him ; utterly un- 
 conscious of the inconsistency in resolving that if he 
 lived they must still be dead to each other. 
 
 When she received Mrs. Martin's note that morning, 
 requesting both herself and Mollie to come, she at first 
 decided to remain at home herself, but to persuade the 
 latter to go. Through her. she could hear directl}^ from 
 him ; how he looked, how he was getting on, and if he 
 seemed happy and in good spirits ; and, at the same 
 time, save her own heart from a painful trial. But 
 Mollie could not go in the morning, and, as Mrs. Mar- 
 tin cunningly refrained from giving any information 
 about the invalid in the note, and the Doctor failed to 
 call by as had been almost his daily habit, by the after- 
 noon, staying away any longer became the more painful 
 trial of the two. A whole troop of imaginary fears that 
 he was not doing well, that his wound had been too se- 
 vere, his system too much broken down, for him ever to 
 recover ; that the Doctor had been deceiving her, or was 
 deceived himself ; that Mrs. Martin also was suppress- 
 ing the truth ; and a host of other unreasonable conjec- 
 tures arose to induce her to respond to the call. Were 
 
342 THE SURRENDER. 
 
 they fears, or only excuses that her heart was inventing 
 to quiet conscience ? At any rate, Mrs. Martin, after 
 satisfying herself that Wyndship was asleep, had hardly 
 reached the front porch for a few moments' inspection 
 of her early flowers, when both girls alighted at the gate. 
 
 It was Mollie who inquired after the invalid, and who 
 listened with interest to the reply ; in fact, to a casual 
 observer, Elma seemed entirely indifferent to the sub- 
 ject. She did not even take a seat after removing their 
 hats and gloves in the sitting-room, but going to the 
 window, she stood with her back to the other, looking out 
 into the yard. The jonquils and snow-drops outside had 
 become objects of greater interest than anything else, 
 from the absorbed and persistent attention with which 
 she regarded them. Mrs. Martin watched her closely, 
 as she went on to tell her other guest of Wyndship's ex- 
 treme low spirits, and utter indifference to his own wel- 
 fare, purposely making the recital as pitiful as she 
 could ; still the impassive figure at the window appeared 
 deaf, and unconscious of the fact that there was a sick 
 man in the house. With something very like a sigh, the 
 good lady turned the drift of conversation into other 
 channels — she was both puzzled and annoyed by Elma's 
 manner, but had the good sense to know that interfer- 
 ence just then could do no good. 
 
 Elma was dressed with extreme simplicity, in a home- 
 spun dress, relieved only at the throat by a knot of scar- 
 let ribbon, which had been dyed to its present color by 
 herself. The hat and gloves she had laid on the table 
 were also homemade; in fact, she wore the "female 
 rebel uniform" complete, as if she intended these tokens 
 of fidelity to the Southern cause as a guard to protect 
 her from the danger of inconstancy — as a reminder to 
 love, that she had dedicated her heart and happiness to 
 her country ; and that henceforth all claims that he had 
 on her would be ignored. She stood at the window sev- 
 eral minutes, and then suddenly turning, caught up a 
 little bunch of hot-house flowers she had laid by her hat, 
 and passed out into the hall. She had not been so in- 
 different as she appeared, and had heard Mrs. Martin 
 say that he was asleep and alone. Now was her time. 
 She could steal into his room, satisfy her longing to see 
 him, and then come away without his knowledge. There 
 would be no necessity of telling him then to his face 
 
BELLEVIEW. 343 
 
 what she felt "wonld cause him almost as much pain to 
 hear, as it would her to say. There would be do ne- 
 cessity for self-control, for crushing down her heart, for 
 choking back the aspirations of love — there would be no 
 necessity for veiling her eyes and freezing her face. She 
 could steal up close to him, see for herself how he 
 looked, whether he was improving ; could look at him as 
 tenderly, as pityingly, as lovingly, as she desired, for a 
 few blissful moments, and place the flowers close to his 
 hand to tell him afterwards that she had been there. 
 She would do all this now, and some time in the near 
 future, when he had grown stronger and better able to 
 bear it, she would write him the determination to which 
 she had come. 
 
 With her heart beating a wild tattoo of bliss and 
 pain, she softly turned the bolt, went in, closed it as 
 gently behind her, and took one step towards his chair. 
 Then she stopped, as if frightened ; for stirred by some 
 magnetic impulse, tlie invalid's head turned on the pil- 
 low, his eyes opened, and a glad smile broke over his 
 haggard features. 
 
 " Oh, my darling ! have j^ou come at last?" 
 
 There was no resisting this appeal ; neither could she 
 instantly '' veil her eyes, and freeze her face." She 
 went forward, and their hands were clasped, he holding 
 hers fast, while she sank into the vacant chair by his 
 side. Then both were silent for a little while ; he too 
 happy for words, and she in a whirl of contending emo- 
 tions, that rendered her incapable of connected thought. 
 He first found his tongue, and commenced telling her of 
 his joy in having her by him again, and how badly he 
 had missed her presence. In silence she listened, slowly 
 realizing the task that duty had so sudcjenly placed be- 
 fore her, and her heart growing sick and cold as she re- 
 membered. 
 
 " Why have j'ou stayed away so long? " he asked, at 
 length. 
 
 She did not reply, but gently disengaged one hand 
 from his clasp. 
 
 " Why have 3'ou sta3'ed away so long?" he repeated. 
 *' Don't 3^ou know it was cruel?" 
 
 "I thought it — it was best," she answered, falter- 
 ingly, attempting to withdraw the other hand. 
 
 ''Why?" 
 
344 THE SURREKDEit. 
 
 Again she was silent ; heart and courage were not yet 
 sufficiently braced for the ordeal. Misunderstanding the 
 silence, and jumping to a conclusion of his own, he con- 
 tinued : 
 
 " Surely, people are not so unkind, so ungenerous, as 
 to condemn or criticise you for that ? " 
 
 " Oh ! it is not that — I would not care for them if 
 they did." 
 
 *' What is it, then?" 
 
 " Oh, why does he persist in asking this question?" 
 she moaned to herself. " Why can't he let us have a 
 few moments' happiness now ? — there can never be any 
 hereafter." This was a bitter task that had been so 
 unexpectedly forced upon her, and her heai*t revolted 
 against the urgings of supposed duty. Oh, for a re- 
 spite, a delay, if only for a few minutes. The tempta- 
 tion to give some excuse, some other* reason than the 
 true one, was strong ; but this would not be right. It 
 would be cowardly, and would be deceiving him, en- 
 couraging false hopes, and in the end, bring a greater 
 disappointment. She had intended this explanation to 
 come later, but fate had willed it otherwise ; and no mat- 
 ter how much pain it cost her, she must not be false to 
 duty. 
 
 ' ' Why is it best that you stay away ? " he repeated 
 sharply, as if he had a suspicion of the truth. 
 
 Notwithstanding the fire and warm weather, she 
 shivered from head to foot, like one taking an icy bath. 
 
 "Because — because — " but she had to stop and 
 swallow something before she could proceed. " Because 
 it would only give us greater pain hereafter. We must 
 learn to do without each other — to reconcile our hearts 
 to the — the inevitable. We must " 
 
 " Why must we learn to do without each other? " 
 
 ''Because it — it is fate." 
 
 "What do you mean?" he cried. "How can we do 
 without each other — or rather, how can I do without 
 you?" 
 
 "You will learn — you will learn to forget me, and — 
 and will find happiness elsewhere." 
 
 " I cannot — it is impossible. It is folly to talk that 
 way." 
 
 " This will not last always — you will get over it in 
 time — will find happiness, and— and some one to love 
 
BELLEVIEW. 345 
 
 you more worthy than I." The thought that this might 
 indeed be true, and that in time some other woman might 
 fill her place in his affection, did not make it any easier 
 to say. As for herself, she felt that there would never 
 be such a recompense for her sacrifice — that this love 
 would last as long as life ; and that she was relinquish- 
 ing her last hope of earthly happiness. 
 
 "This is all foolishness — you mustn't talk in that 
 way," he said, trying to steady his voice, and pitifully 
 endeavoring to ignore her earnestness. " You do not 
 mean it, I know, and — are only trying me — trying me to 
 see how much patience I possess." 
 
 " I do — I must — I cannot help it — there is nothing 
 else to do. It is not because I do not love you — you 
 know that. It is hard — harder for me than for you ; 
 but, oh ! there is such a gulf between us — a gulf filled 
 with war, with blood, and sin, and murder." 
 
 " This is folly, I tell you— the height of folly. You 
 are placing too much importance on what neither you nor 
 I caused, or could prevent." 
 
 " Still it is there, yawning between us," she persisted, 
 with a shudder. 
 
 " But we will bridge it — our love is strong enough, 
 great enough, to bridge it, were it as wide as the ocean." 
 
 She shook her head mournfully. 
 
 "Why should we care for this trouble between the 
 North and South? Why should we let this senseless, 
 inhuman, and unnecessary war come between us — why 
 make it a personal matter ? We love each other — is that 
 not enough ? At least my love is too strong to permit 
 civil strife to separate us — but maybe yours is different 
 — maybe your love for your Southern Confederacy is 
 stronger than for me." 
 
 The last words hurt her keenly, but she did not re- 
 tort. In fact, words of any kind were difficult just 
 then. All the exalted thoughts and arguments about 
 patriotism and devotion to cause and country ; all the 
 self-sacrificing appeals to duty ; all the unselfish reasons 
 founded on considerations for his good, and his future ; 
 of not being an obstacle to his advancement and pros- 
 perity, scattered like drj'- leaves before a hurricane, and 
 she was left with only a consciousness that duty required 
 her to remain firm. So she only gripped her hands 
 tighter, and shivered. 
 
S46 THE SURREKDfifi. 
 
 (( 
 
 CorKe, he resumed in his gentlest tone, " j^ou must 
 quit worrying about this war, and such matters — quit 
 thinking about that imaginary gulf between us ; but in- 
 stead, just consider how happy we will be in the future, 
 when I get well and strong, and win that fame and for- 
 tune I intend to gain for your sake. Let war and poli- 
 tics go on their way ; there is love and peace and happi- 
 ness in store for us." 
 
 "If it could only be," she murmured. 
 
 " It can — it will be, if we will only have it so. What 
 is there to prevent? We have love and faith in each 
 other, and what more do we want ? Give up these fool- 
 ish ideas — these quixotic notions about patriotism and 
 duty, and let us be happy." 
 
 "Oh, no," she cried, despairingly. "It is fate, and 
 we must submit." 
 
 " It is fate, only because you will it so." 
 
 " I will it so? " She turned her face towards him for 
 the first time, and there was an accent of indignation in 
 the question. 
 
 " Well, you imagine it is so." 
 
 "Imagine? Is this war all imagination? Are all 
 those bloody battles that have been fought only imagi- 
 nation ? Is the presence of your Northern armies in our 
 ruined and suffering country nothing but a hideous 
 nightmare of the fancy ? I would to God it were only 
 imagination ! " 
 
 ' ' Then you can never forgive me for being a Union 
 soldier? " 
 
 " I have nothing to forgive you. You are a Federal 
 soldier because you believe the North is right, and the 
 South wrong — you have simply been true to j^our prin- 
 ciples, and — and faithful to the duty your conscience 
 pointed out. Have I ever blamed you for that? Not for the 
 world, nor for an eternity of happiness, would I have 
 you prove false to the cause in which you believe. It is 
 not that. Don't you see that Providence has placed a 
 wall between us — that God, in His infinite wisdom, dis- 
 approves of our love ? " 
 
 Had he been well and strong, his nerves in their nor- 
 mal condition, he would have persevered with arguments 
 and persuasions in endeavoring to show her the falsity 
 of her position ; but he was weak and irritable, his sys- 
 tem depressed, and not equal for a contest of that kind. 
 
Keither could he patiently lose the happiness which he 
 had confidently thought his own so short a -while before. 
 
 '' Do you mean, that after all that has passed between 
 us, we must now separate forever?" he asked, in a 
 changed tone. 
 
 The excitement which had stimulated her last two 
 speeches instantly subsided, and she silently turned 
 again to the fire, shivering and twisting her hands to- 
 gether. 
 
 " Tell me — " his voice was louder, and was broken 
 with anger and despair. '' Tell me — is that what you 
 mean ? " 
 
 *'It is inevitable." 
 
 He just caught the half-whispered words, and did not 
 see the pale, quivering lips that uttered them, or else, 
 possibly, he might have been more patient. 
 
 *' Then I wish I had died." 
 
 She shivered now like one with an ague, but did not 
 look around — in fact, drew farther from him, and nearer 
 the fire. 
 
 *' Why did you not let me die? Even such a shame- 
 ful death as that — as a spy and a murderer — was in- 
 finitely better than the life to which you have brought 
 me back." 
 
 Still closer to the fire she leaned, the tears falling on 
 her clenched hands, while her lips moved in silent 
 prayer. 
 
 " It would have been better — kinder to me, to let the 
 scouts finish their job, than to save my life that you 
 might inflict a far more cruel and deadly wound. I do 
 not want — I detest — I loathe the life which you have 
 preserved." 
 
 He fell back on his pillow with his face towards the 
 window, panting for breath. After a little, she arose to 
 her feet, glanced appealingly toward him first, and then 
 staggered to the door. Here she stopped, and again 
 looked back ; but he had not moved, or seemed to notice 
 her leaving. Beyond him was the open window, with 
 the box of fragrant violets ; and, still beyond, the 
 happy, golden sunshine. In parting with him, she was 
 bidding farewell to all blessedness ; to all hopes of fu- 
 ture felicity ; to all the brightness of life. Past the 
 door, and she entered upon the dark and forbidding path 
 of duty, that would lead to no earthly reward. Here 
 
348 THE SURRENDER. 
 
 was bliss, and joy, and love; outside was wretchedness, 
 and a despair so dark that no consciousness of duty per- 
 formed could possibly dispell the gloom. One step 
 more, and she would be past the gates of Paradise, and 
 that same stern angel who was urging her forward would 
 forever bar her entrance again. One last look, and she 
 must go. 
 
 AYhile hesitating, her eyes fell on the crushed and 
 broken flowers in her hand. She had intended them for 
 him, and why not yet leave them to reassure him, if they 
 could, that it was not the want of love on her part which 
 had caused the wall between them. Crushed and broken, 
 and glistening with the moisture of her tears, they would 
 be a fit emblem of her own heart, and would plead with 
 him — as she could not do — against resentment and injus- 
 tice when she was gone. She turned towards the table 
 which stood by the window across the room, and had got 
 half way there when she stopped and looked piteously at 
 him again. One pale, thin hand shaded the averted 
 eyes ; and his attitude, his entire person, spoke of utter 
 dejection and hopelessness. The picture cut her to the 
 heart, almost bringing a cry of pain from her trembling 
 lips. She was not the only one that was suffering — that 
 was losing all. As she could not take happiness witli 
 her, so she could not leave it behind. As far as they 
 were concerned, it was constituted in a dual life — one 
 half attached to her, and one half to him — and neither 
 was capable of an independent existence. She was 
 leaving no radiant sunshine — no fragrant violets of hap- 
 piness behind for him — his present and future, possibly, 
 were as dark and forbidding as hers. She was ready and 
 willing to sacrifice her own heart on the altar of duty ; 
 but his — oh ! how about his ? Could she perform this 
 double task ? Could she strike the blow that would de- 
 stroy both ? For a moment or two she stood irresolute ; 
 her mouth twitching ; her eyes changing from dull to 
 bright, and from bright to dull ; her form swaying back 
 and forth like a slender plant in the breeze ; then a cry 
 broke from her lips, and, the next instant, she was 
 kneeling by his side, her hands clinging tightly to his 
 arm. 
 
 " I cannot — " she sobbed ! "I cannot do it — I can- 
 not give you up ! I will give up everything — yes, every- 
 thing, but you — but you — you I cannot ! I thought it 
 
teELLEVlEW. 34^ 
 
 was right — I thouoht it was duty, but — oh ! I cannot ! " 
 Long before her broken words Avere finislied, he had 
 turned with sudden strength in his chair. His arm was 
 torn from her clasp that it might pass around her waist, 
 and — well, the war was over — love had conquered. 
 
 THE END. 
 
^ARE BOOK 
 COLLECTION 
 
 THEUBRARYOFTHE 
 ^^NlVERSITVOf^ 
 ^OKTH CAROLINA 
 AT 
 CHAPEL HILL 
 
 Kilmer 
 325