/" 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 THE WILMER COLLECTION 
 
 OF CIVIL WAR NOVELS 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 RICHARD H. WILMER, JR. 
 
/ ; . 
 
 XV.J. 
 
 4«^ 
 
 ^.^ 
 
 ^^^ 
 
EENSHAWE. 
 
 ^ io»tI. 
 
 BT 
 
 THE AUTHOR OF "MARY BRANDEGEE." 
 
 EDITED BY 
 
 CUYLER PINE 
 
 ^. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 p. J^. pARLETON &- Co., PUBLISHERS, 
 
 LoNDDN : S. Low, Son & Co. 
 
 MDCCCLXVU. 
 
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1867, by 
 
 GEORGE W. CAKLETON & CO., 
 
 In the Clerk's office of the District Court of the United States for the 
 
 Southern District of New York. 
 
TO 
 
 MY FATHER 
 
 603182 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 Axioms and plain principles ought to be repeated once at least in 
 a generation. 
 
 In each man's history there was a time when platitudes were novel- 
 ties, and our weariness of them leads us to take for granted, that the 
 rising race will learn what is not taught. 
 
 Some, it is true, manldnd is in no danger of forgetting, but there 
 are others, which the force of circumstances sweeps very far out of 
 sight, and it is then that those who remember them should come to 
 the rescue. One of these truisms, which has been much endangered 
 lately, in this country, is that good and evil are confined to no soci- 
 ety, and are indigenous to no soil. 
 
 That bad men have fallen in a good cause is a fact which its devo- 
 tees are disposed to ignore, and that good men have suffered in a bad 
 cause, they are stUl less willing to acknowledge. 
 
 There are men too ready to pronounce on the convictions, princi- 
 ples and merit of others wtom they have never even seen, and 
 throughout this whole country there are also many who, reasonable 
 and just in themselves, have been unintentionally swayed by the mis- 
 representations of passion, blind to what it does not wish to see, to 
 condemn individuals together with nations. 
 
 Before this latter class I lay these memoirs of my sister. If in any 
 one case they serve as a reminder of the simple fact which aU men 
 who dweU in peace are ready to acknowledge, the task of their prepa- 
 ration will not have been in vain. 
 
 OurLEE Pine. 
 
EENSHA¥E. 
 I. 
 
 BLUE HILLS. 
 
 Netted in a silver mist 
 Were cottage chimneys smoking from the woods, 
 And cattle grazing in the watered vales.— Mrs. BROWNina. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 ^^^HERE was no railway station at Blue Hills, and I 
 jn)) came to that respectable hamlet by stage from the 
 ^^ nearest depot, six miles distant. As it was the 
 only stage that ran during the day, I was a little surprised 
 on finding no one to meet me at the terminus of its route, 
 yet nowise daunted by this circumstance, after discover- 
 ing that Mr. Shaker's house was within a mile, I set out 
 for that habitation, leaving my baggage at the stage- 
 house. This was principally one trunk. 
 
 Darkness overtook me on the way, and I regretted that 
 I had not availed myself of the stage driver's offer to 
 return for me to the stage house after some other errands 
 had been disposed of. As the directions given me had 
 led me to expect, the more populous features of the vil- 
 lage ceased with the first half mile of my walk. 
 
10 EENSHAWE. 
 
 I liad been charged to sto^D at the thu'd house after 
 passing the Hberty-pole; but as three roads met there, 
 and as I was in doubt which of two I should have fol- 
 lowed, I paused for some minutes before ventuiing to 
 enter, when I had reached the third gateway. A wooden 
 fence shut in a square inclosure about one acre in area, in 
 the centre of which the house stood out in the beams of 
 the half moon. It was a building pictui'esque in orig- 
 inal design, all angles and gables, dormer windows, and 
 tall red brick chimneys, but old, faded, and dingy, and 
 the outhouses, of which there was a goodly row, pre- 
 sented an appearance more unmistakably attributable to 
 neglect of repairs. 
 
 There was nothing cheering in a nearer view of the 
 premises. The upper \vindows were not illuminated, nor 
 was there any sign of life visible about the place, except 
 when a disabled dog crawled out of a crazy-looking 
 kennel to whine feebly at my approach. At last, detect- 
 ing a gleam thi'ough the close gloating of a basement win- 
 dow, I ventured an energetic summons with the knocker 
 of the only door that was visible on the front. 
 
 " Does 'Mx. Shaker live here ?" I asked, half expecting 
 a negative, when the door was opened by a stout, hard- 
 featured woman, about middle age, enveloped in a bonnet 
 and shawl. 
 
 I was told that Mr. Shaker hved there, and was in- 
 vited to walk in. The hall was commodious, and fiu'- 
 nished in a quaint, old-fashioned style ; a huge red 
 clock ticked at the farther end, and by the dim light I 
 caught the outUne of several pictures in very ancient 
 fi'ames on the walls. I, lost no time in looking round, ^ 
 however, as the woman who had admitted me, and ^ 
 who proved to be Mr. Shaker's housekeej^er, informed "Cli 
 me, to my gi'eat concern, that IMi\ Shaker hijiseK had 
 gone away, and although he and several ladies had been 
 
BLUE HILLS. 11 
 
 expected, that though in fact she had been "looking 
 for them " every day, I was the first of the party to 
 arrive. His orders to her had been to make his guests 
 as comfortable as possible until his arrival. 
 
 " But Mr. Shaker's niece — the mistress, is at home, is 
 she not ?" I asked, dubiously. 
 
 " Miss Launey, that is. She ain't no mistress." 
 
 "And who is the mistress, then?" 
 
 Mrs. Judson, which I learned was the housekeeper's 
 name, immediately stated that there was no mistress, 
 only as far as she served for one ; for that matter there 
 was no master either, as Mr. Shaker was good for 
 nothing but to sit in his study and pore over books. He 
 had invited his niece, to be sure, to keep the ladies com- 
 pany, but as for mistress. Miss Launey didn't know the 
 blue China tea-set from a pair of tongs. The place alto- 
 gether had been going to rack and ruin as fast as it 
 could, and except that she had driven things as well as 
 she could, the house would have been burnt up for kin- 
 dhng-wood. 
 
 " I expected to find Miss Launey here, of course," I 
 said, in no little annoyance; "I hardly know what to 
 do." 
 
 The housekeeper, vdth a look directed askance from 
 under her heavy brows, stated she saw nothing else to 
 be done but to make myself " to hum," and she would 
 provide my supper. She alleged that during Mr. Sha- 
 ker's absence, she merely visited the premises during 
 the day to attend to the wants of the man-servant, and 
 she was on the point of going to her mother's cot, about 
 three miles above in the woods, when I arrived. As Miss 
 Launey was with a feeble relative at Rocky Cross, she 
 could be readily notified in the morning that Mr. Sha- 
 ker's guest had come; but she did not think Mr. Shaker 
 himself would return very soon, as, being opposed to rail- 
 
12 EENSHAWE. 
 
 roads, on the ground that they were new-fashioned and 
 unsafe, he always traveled by slow stages in his carriage. 
 
 " But he cannot have been six weeks in coming from 
 New York," said I. 
 
 Mrs. Judson thought it likely. In any village where 
 there was a hbrary or a bookstore he sometimes stopped 
 three days or more, and frequently accomplished only five 
 miles a day. 
 
 Leaving me to digest this announcement, Mrs. Judson 
 prepared a hasty supper, and dispatched Mr. Shaker's 
 man with the dog to the station for my luggage. I sug- 
 gested that she should send him also to her mother's cot- 
 tage to explain ]\Irs. Judson's non-appearance, but the 
 housekeeper assured me that her mother was aware that 
 company was expected at !Mi\ Shaker's, and would easily 
 account for the detention. \ Besides that " feller," as she 
 denominated the envoy, was so slow a poke that he would 
 not get over the three miles till suniise. 
 
 The event seemed fully to justify Mrs. Judson's asser- 
 tion; and after waitinor till midniorht for the return of the 
 messenger, I began to indulge in a few apprehensions 
 regarding his safety. 
 
 " Times is so unsettled now," remarked Mrs. Judson 
 in reply to one of these surmises, and there's reely so 
 little tellin' what's goin' to happen, with the woods all 
 full of prowlin' thieves and sich, that if it was anybody 
 else 'cept Sing'lar Twist, (Sing'lar Twist's his name,) 
 who went out and staid till middle of the night I shud 
 feel consarned. But I know Sing'lar — he'll be along byme 
 by. ]Mr. Shaker likes slow folks." 
 
 I felt less sympathy with !Mr. Shaker's preference in 
 this respect, on the present occasion, than might have 
 been the case had I been less interested in Singular 
 Twist's expedition. Before one in the morning the whine 
 of the dog announced his return, and the creak of the 
 
BLUE HILLS. 13 
 
 wheelbarrow, wliicli was taking it leisurely up to the 
 door, gave iiitimatiou that my luggage had arrived. But 
 there was no more than one small valise and a band- 
 box, Mr. Twist rei^orting that he intended going back for 
 the trunk, which, though the stage-office was locked, had 
 been left, by his urgent entreaty, outside the door. 
 
 "And ain't you ashamed," said IMrs. Judson, in a tone 
 of severity, " to be five hours goin' three-quarters of a 
 mile to fetch a band-box! — and tole 'em to leave the 
 trimk out-doors in a village ! Shockin' ! Go back as 
 quick as you can, you fool." 
 
 " 'Spos'n it's got stole," suggested Singular. 
 
 " Then you'll hev to pay for the vallyables, no sayin' 
 how much — may take all you're wuth." 
 
 Singular's ideas seemed roused by this prospect, and he 
 departed with greater alacrity than he had come. Mrs. 
 Judson bolted the doors and secured the windows, assur- 
 ing me that there was no chance of Singular's return 
 before the time she was usually up. Owing to the late- 
 ness of our vigil, however, we overslept in the morning, 
 and finding, on awaking, that the sun was well up in the 
 sky, I hurried to dress and went in quest of the house- 
 keeper to know whether there were any tidings of Twist 
 and my trunk. ]VIi*s. Judson was just unbarring the win- 
 dow, and to my inquiries she replied by pointing grimly 
 to the lawn where Singular lay fast asleep, with the dog's 
 nose on his breast, beside the empty wheelbarrow. 
 
 " You can make him pay for every stitch thar wus in 
 it," she said to me forcibly. " He's got piles of money 
 in Mr. Shaker's desk, and no sayin' how much in the 
 bank — been hoardin' it up for twenty years. Reg'lar mean, 
 miserable miser." 
 
 As Singular, fast in the embrace of Morpheus, was 
 totally deaf to any admonitions fi'om the window, Mrs., 
 Judson went down to arouse him to an explanation. Her 
 
14 RENSHAWE. 
 
 efforts were, for some time, unavailing. At last, when 
 Mrs. Judson had repeatedly shouted, ""^Miar's that 
 trunk ?" and Singular had replied as often, " AVeU," in 
 the di'owsiest of voices, ]Mrs. Judson resorted to more 
 energetic measures. Roused to consciousness by a severe 
 thump on the shoulder and pull on the collar. Singular 
 made known, rubbing his eyes and gaping desperately, 
 that the trunk had been taken by mistake in the six 
 o'clock stage to Rocky Cross, a depot ten miles distant, 
 to meet the nine o'clock train. 
 
 "And what in sense was you doin?" shouted ]\Irs. 
 Judson, "to be till six o'olock trundlin' a wheelbarry 
 down to the stage-house! Wbar wus it you stopped? 
 Come, I will know." 
 
 Singular with vehemence protested he " hadn't stopped 
 nowhar — nawthen open to stop at ai-ter twelve o'clock. 
 Thort the dog was tii-ed — felt tired himself — s'jDosed he'd 
 feU asleep, like anybody natterally would when it got so 
 nigb mornin ! ^Tien he got to the station the stage had 
 gone and took the tmnk, and he had come home direct^ — 
 not having stopped at all." 
 
 " Oh, yes," cried the wrathful Judson, " I don't doubt 
 you come hum on a trot. You're alius a shuttin' the 
 stable door arter the hoss is stolen. Shed hev thort 
 you'd hev known enough, Sing'lar, — that stage alius is a 
 catcliin' everything that's lyin' round. Now, then, you've 
 jnst got to get out the long wagin and go up to Rocky 
 Cross arter that trunk, do you hear ? Come, Sing'lar, go 
 hunt Gusty and harness him up. Ef you can catch the 
 nine o'clock train, all the better." 
 
 "Couldn't ketch a train nohow!" said Singular, ap- 
 palled. " Can't ketch the boss without help. Gusty's a 
 di'efiul onruly critter, — bites and kicks." 
 
 " You'U hev that hoss harnessed, Singlar, or I'll know 
 the reason why," said !Mrs. Judson — a threat that was 
 
BLUE nnxs. 
 
 15 
 
 not witliout its effect on " Sing'lar," who ruefully dragged 
 himself into the house, and up to the third story, 
 to see what lot the horse was in. Mrs. Judson, in the 
 mean time, i^repared breakfast, harnessed Gusty to the 
 box-wagon, while Twist made his meal, and urged that 
 individual, in spite of his protestations, to unusual brisk- 
 ness. 
 
 He was off at last, armed with my initials on a card, 
 and a charge to drive rapidly. Mrs. Judson and I break- 
 fasted, after his departure, in the so-called "back sitting- 
 room," the more comfortable and commodious apartment 
 in the house, exulting in two neatly painted corner clos- 
 ets, a newly woven rag carpet on the floor, and the walls 
 papered smoothly. The furniture was covered with chintz, 
 less for protection than ornament, and the curtains 
 matched these coverings in hue, at the east and west 
 windows of the oblong apartment. The hills, from which 
 the hamlet took its name, rose in full view from the 
 open windows, the soft clouds floating away from their 
 summits giving promise of a lovely day. Mrs. Jud- 
 son entertained me with the history of the engravings 
 that adorned the walls, as well as of a few clay images in 
 keeping with the statues in Mr. Shaker's study. Her 
 chief pride, however, plainly lay in the set of deep-blue 
 china that contrasted with the damask tablecloth. 
 
 Just as we had finished breakfast, a sound of wheels 
 called Mrs. Judson's attention to the window. 
 
 "Thar's Sing'lar Twist comin' back! crawlin' along as 
 usual. He's forgot somethin' of coui'se." 
 
 Nothing had been forgotten, as was manifest when 
 Singular drove deliberately around to the barn, and in 
 the course of time was found to be releasing Gusty from 
 the traces. 
 
 " What's the matter ?" hallooed Mrs. Judson from the 
 door. 
 
16 RENSHAWE. 
 
 "Broke dovra," announced the oracle. 
 
 "Goodness! he's broke do-wn!" She hied directly to 
 the stables, and I followed within hearing distance. 
 
 " What wus it, Sing'lar ? Axle-tree broke, or wheel orf, 
 or what ?" 
 
 " Bolt come out ! " shouted Twist. 
 
 " Bolt ? why on airth didn't you screw it in, an' go on 
 agin ?" 
 
 "'Cause, lost it out. Ben looken for it aU 'long the 
 road for a mile." 
 
 " Well, hold on, Sing'lar, take the wagin to the black- 
 smith's ; get him to make a new bolt. Come, you must 
 git to Kocky Cross 'fore night." 
 
 Singular stood some time mute, with the harness in 
 his hand. Blacksmith was full, he thought, but anyhow 
 he'd run "down thar" and see when the repaii' could be 
 executed. 
 
 "Kun!" exclaimed Mrs. Judson, "never done sech a 
 thing in his life. I'm afear'd you won't see yer trunk to- 
 day, ]\Iiss Renshawe, at this rate." 
 
 Singular did not return fi'om the blacksmith's till 
 broad noon. The blacksmith would not be at leisui'e till 
 ten o'clock at night, when he promised to come up and 
 screw in the bolt. Mrs. Judson sent Twist next to one 
 of the neighbors, to borrow a wagon in the emergency. 
 
 His next aj)pearance was about thi'ee in the afternoon, 
 when he came in, sank on the settle hke one overcome 
 with exertion, and announced that there were only "wo- 
 men folks " at Garniss's; the men were all gone away, and 
 the wagon house was locked. 
 
 I charged Mrs. Judson to defer the expedition till the 
 morrow. As she was sm-e that the trunk was safe where 
 it was, I thought it better to await the blacksmith's leis- 
 ure, and let Singular proceed the next day in the convey- 
 ance that belonged to ]Mr. Shaker's own domicile. 
 
BLUE HILLS. 17 
 
 The next morning Mrs. Judson had Gusty harnessed 
 by sunrise, and dispatched Singular on his journey. 
 
 Shortly after breakfast the housekeeper announced to 
 me that she would be obliged to leave for a few hours, to 
 explain the present state of affairs to her mother, and to 
 make a call among the hills, for the pui-pose of inquiring 
 into the prolonged absence of a certain Sally Bunn, who 
 had gone to see her sick mother, and who should have 
 been home the previous day. 
 
 Not Hking to be left alone in the house, I offered to 
 accompany Mrs. Judson, and after locking up the house 
 we set out together. 
 
 Everything about was in a dead calm, the sky un- 
 clouded, the air stiQ, the very chirp of the peepers fi'om 
 the woods sounding lazily on the ear. The hiUs, which 
 were the most striking feature in the surrounding scenery, 
 rose in detached and irregular piles to the northward, 
 the road winding along at the base. They extended in 
 this direction for about two miles, when they sank into 
 swells and undulating surfaces, covered with patches of 
 woods, among whose budding branches a smoking chim- 
 ney showed here and there a habitation. We passed a 
 number of quiet farm-houses, where the signs of life were 
 almost entirely confined to the chirp of a chicken soun- 
 ing from the board fences, and the track of the ducks 
 on the dirt heaj)s by the road. For the last mile the 
 road pursued its way without any protection of a fence, 
 through stony and broken gi'ound, which, Mrs. Judson 
 said, it was not thought worth while to cultivate. A sud- 
 den turn of the road to the north, brought us in view of 
 her mother's cottage. It stood at the junction of a cross- 
 road with the highway, and was built on a side hill, on 
 the top of which its western half was sujoported; the other 
 half of the same floor, built over the foundation stones, 
 inclosing an apartment that served apparently for a 
 
18 
 
 RENSHAWE. 
 
 kitchen. The structure fronted on the south, and after 
 following the windings of the road among a wilderness 
 of whortleberry bushes and straggling vines, on which 
 the sun shone with the intense brightness of midsummer, 
 we came near enough to iDcrceive several horses standing 
 about the yard, windows open, and a general bustle, in 
 keeping with the volumes of smoke issuing fi'om the one 
 chimney. 
 
 "I wonder what's afoot now !" exclaimed my compan- 
 ion, and she pushed her way directly through the lower 
 door, I following. Unmistakable signs of confusion were 
 apj)arent there ; a table stood in the middle of the floor, 
 on which several hens were devouring the remains of a 
 plentiful feast, clucking sociably among themselves; and 
 through the open milk-room door several cats were 
 visible, prowling about the shelves. Mrs. Judson hurried 
 to drive them out, an operation involving the demohtion 
 of much crockery, and the downfall of a pan of milk, and 
 I just had time to announce the appearance of an old 
 woman bringing up a load of sticks fi'om the well-path, 
 when two men ran tumultuously down the step ladder 
 communicating with the upper floor. 
 
 The youths — for neither could have been more than 
 seventeen or eighteen years of age — wore the dress of 
 the New York Fii'e Zouaves, and presented faces which 
 it needed no second glance to discover as those of beings 
 already hardened in iniquity. The impression was con- 
 firmed, when, after a short scrutiny, they walked up to 
 me with the request that I would unglove and show my 
 lings. 
 
 I at once comj^Hed, and made it clear that I had no 
 rings whatever, while Mrs. Judson expressed her opinion 
 that such young men as they might be in better business, 
 and that the war would ruin the country. In the mean 
 time my watch had been demanded, and seeing no alter- 
 
BLUE HILLS. 
 
 19 
 
 native but submission, I quietly detached and surren- 
 
 Without stopping to ask for our purses, the abandoned 
 wretches were out of the door, and scampered away on the 
 northward road just as the old woman made her entree 
 into the kitchen. She was fuU of trouble, and in a hur- 
 ried, cracked voice, gave us a complete account of her 
 trials. She had been toiling and cooking for five men 
 who had eaten her out of house and home, brought 
 horses and saddles, and it was all she could do to prevent 
 them from making a stable of the kitchen. 
 
 Mrs. Judson fully sympathized with these woes, and 
 after a long condolence, it was finaUy settled that she 
 should proceed to Bunn's cottage alone, as it was in the 
 recesses of the woods below, and that I should await 
 Singular Twist's return from Eocky Cross, in order to 
 ride down with safety. The old woman thought this 
 much the better plan. None of the " swarrows," as she 
 denominated the Zouaves, would be back before night, 
 and she thought I would be safer there than anywhere 
 until his arrival. 
 
 IVIrs. Judson had just moved toward the gate, and I 
 was stiU cherishing a half-formed design to call her back, 
 when her astonished pause brought her mother and my- 
 seH at once to her side. A vehicle came rattUng down 
 the road, surmounted by several red caps scintiUatmg 
 
 in the sunlight. ■,.-,.1,1^ 
 
 "Thar's Sing'lar Twist a-comin'!" exclaimed the old 
 woman, "and good hevings! what has he got in with 
 him!— all them red caps and shirts a-comm' back agm. 
 
 "I don't see Sing'lar nowhars," exclaimed the house- 
 keeper. "Hope they hevn't i)itched him out, nor drown- 
 
 ded him." ' ^ ^ xx. 
 
 The box-wagon, in the mean time, drew up before the 
 gate. It contained in aU only four individuals, Singu- 
 
20 RENSHAWE. 
 
 lar's straw hat giving tokens of bis presence, as he gradu- 
 ally raised himself fi'om the bottom, his post of driver hav- 
 ing been usur[3ed by another of the party. The remain- 
 ing three were men whom I had not seen before, that day 
 at least. Two sj^rang out, followed by Singular, who de- 
 scended at leisui'e, the diiver still remaining on the seat. 
 Then all came to a dead pause. 
 
 " Whar hev those fellers been robbin' this mornin'," 
 demanded the tallest and most uncouth specimen of the 
 party. 
 
 " They've done one piece of robbin' here," proclaimed 
 IVIrs. Judson; " took Mss Eenshawe's watch, and kerried 
 it orf." 
 
 Pubhc attention thus called to me, the Zouaves asked 
 at once for a description of the watch, and" I gave it. 
 They looked at each other, made some allusions to the 
 "thieving de^-ils," and declared they were glad to be rid 
 of them. 
 
 " They stole my medal, Tomlin," said the shorter of 
 these two Zouaves, tiu'ning towards the third individual, 
 who lounged on the seat of the box-wagon. 
 
 " Yes," struck in the first questioner, " they stole his 
 medal from he, and a bit of a red string that was round 
 my neck. You seed 'em with it, 'Lisha, didn't you ?" 
 
 " I seed it and more too," Ehsha responded. "A man 
 didn't dare to call his soul his own, for fear they'd snatch 
 it." 
 
 " And his tobaccy-box," rejoined his comrade, whose 
 name, I shortly learned, was Alancen. " The thievinest 
 rascals !" 
 
 In the meantime I had been scrutinizing that member 
 of the party who still tenanted the box-wagon, and who 
 had been addi'essed as Tomlin. There was nothing in 
 his habihments by which I could have judged him to be a 
 member of any New York regiment, or indeed a soldier 
 
BLUE HILLS. 21 
 
 at all. Kis liair was not cut according to to the mili- 
 tarj^ fashion, as some dark-brown locks clustered about his 
 jaunty cap. He wore a dark-blue flannel shirt, dingy- 
 black 2^antaloons, tucked into a pair of calf-skin boots, 
 and in the broad leather belt encircHng his waist were a 
 bowie-knife and pair of pistols. A reckless expression 
 characterized his upward glance, but otherwise his face 
 was not unprepossessing, yet I was further mystified 
 when, after close attention to the evidence, he drew my 
 watch from his side pocket, looked at it inside and out, 
 and looked around at me. I moved forward, but the 
 Zouave, Alancen, blocked the gateway. 
 
 " Stand aside, 'Lance," said Tomlin, " and let the " 
 
 Here his eye ran over my characteristic outer woman, 
 " lady pass." 
 
 Alancen moved away, and I identified and received my 
 own property, congratulating myself on my good fortune, 
 and expressing my sense of indebtedness to Mr. Tomlin. 
 In the meantime Singular Twist and Mrs. Judson were 
 discussing Kocky Cross. I had heard the housekeeper 
 demanding, " Whar's that trunk ?" and Singular's pro- 
 longed hemming and hawing before Tomlin called off my 
 attention; but the courtesies between us were but just 
 exchanged as Singular entered upon his narrative. Eocky 
 Cross was full of soldiers, and he didn't dare to go any- 
 where near it, that was a fact. He could not tell whether 
 they were few or many, whether they were United States 
 soldiers, or rebels, whether their uniforms were black or 
 white. He had not seen them, but had been informed 
 by people in the vicinity, who had warned him to go no 
 nearer lest he might not get away. 
 
 INIrs. Judson, httle affected by this news, charged Sin- 
 gular to take Miss Eenshawe home directly in the 
 wagon, while she went across to Mrs. Bunn's. The rest 
 of the company were housed already in the cottage, and 
 
22 KENSHAWE. 
 
 a wrangling conversation about the dinner ensued be- 
 tween the Zouaves and the old woman, while I took my 
 place in the box wagon, waiting anxiously for Singular, 
 who, ha"\ang once gone in, I might have expected would 
 not reappear very soon. 
 
 ^Tien my patience was nearly worn out, " 'Lance " 
 brought out a message that Singular did not feel well, 
 and wanted to know whether I very much minded waiting 
 until he had been strengthened by something to eat. 
 
 I entered the cottage at once to charge Singular with 
 my haste to be home, but I found Twist obstinate. He 
 was powerful hungiy — had ridden pretty near all the 
 way to Rocky Cross, been nearly scared to death by bad 
 news, and the three passengers he had taken in had 
 really driven Gusty on a regular trot for a mile. Gusty 
 would di'op before we got home, if he started off again 
 now — horse was spavined in the left hind leg, and had 
 the heaves evei-y winter till grass came. 
 
 "I will walk down, Singular, in that case," I said, 
 severely. 
 
 Singular, quite unmoved, rejoined, " Wall," and turned 
 serenely to the table. Tomlin, who had overheard the 
 discourse, interposed directly. "Very unsafe," he pro- 
 nounced, " for any one, especially an unprotected female, 
 to walk alone so far as Blue Hills. The young lady had 
 better wait till after dinner, and ride down in the box- 
 wagon." 
 
 Submission still appearing to be my forte, I sat down 
 by the cooking-stove while the two Zouaves and Singular 
 discussed their dinner. In the meantime IVIr. Tomlin 
 brought a chau' and sat down by me, talking, in a very 
 encouraging strain, though sometimes I fancied rather 
 too free in expressing his curiosity about matters that did 
 not concern him. 
 
 The Zouaves made a long meal of it, a delay which my 
 
BLUE HILLS. 23 
 
 impatience could ill bear; but Singular loitered over tbe 
 table long after they had left it. Toinlin's conversation 
 with me had come to an end, and I had been sitting 
 watching Singular with growing indignation. "When I 
 perceived that IVIrs. Judson had been gone an hour and 
 a half, I was moved to tell Twist of the wrath his conduct 
 inspired. 
 
 " Got all day to go hum," said he, coolly. Seeing that 
 it did not avail to be angry, I grew more composed, but it 
 was four o'clock in the afternoon before Twist had fairly 
 finished his second pipe, and took up his straw hat, which 
 was not bent straight under five minutes. 
 
 A halloo at the gate brought us to the door. There 
 was a young man there on horseback with news from 
 Blue Hills. A regiment of soldiers had come in, were to 
 be quartered around at the different houses, — rebels of 
 the blackest dye, — had pulled down three flags in the vil- 
 lage, one off the church, one off the town-house, and one 
 off the store, and had put up three rebel flags in their 
 place. Blue Hills was, on the whole, loyal, at least out- 
 wardly, and the event had caused much commotion. The 
 messenger had been asked to inquire what had become of 
 Singular Twist and the lady under his charge; Mrs. Jud- 
 son was afraid some accident had taken place. 
 
 "WTiile I stood at the gate waiting for Singular, who had 
 gone back for his hat, Tomlin came up to me to inquire 
 what means of defence I had in case the troop in ques- 
 tion were to offer any injury to the house, or proceed in 
 the usual summary method with the stock and provisions 
 of the place. I answered that the house was not suscep- 
 tible of fortification, and I doubted if there were even an 
 old musket to be found there. 
 
 Tomlin replied that defences of that sort he was aware 
 would be ineftectual enough ; he was about to offer me a 
 paper signed by an official whose name would carry 
 
24 RENSHAWE. 
 
 weight with those Southern officers who recog- 
 nized it. 
 
 I said immediately that I would be very thankful to 
 receive any such safeguard, and Tomlin took from his 
 jDOcketbook a printed form with a signatui'e. 
 
 "^Tiat's the name?" 
 
 "Allan Shaker," I answered. Tomlin filled in two' 
 spaces, and handed the document to me. It was an in- 
 junction to the Confederate soldiers to refi-ain from 
 molesting the property of Allan Shaker at Blue Hills, 
 and was signed " Killian G. Chives." 
 
 " That's the last one I have," he said, " I have made 
 them do some little good about the country, especially 
 among the absolutely defenceless." 
 
 I thanked the author of these acts of philanthropy, 
 half inclined to look upon him as another Don Quixote. 
 Singular at last emerged with his hat, and said he 
 would untie Gusty, and tate me home. 
 
 "For another word of caution," said Tomhn, as Twist 
 paused to fill his pipe again from Alancen's tobacco-box, 
 " if there is any sort of liquor in youi' cellar, di'aw the 
 taps and let it run off. It would be gone before night in 
 some way; and if the soldiers get hold of it, as they will, 
 you'll find the premises noisy till morning." 
 
 "It would be gone before night in some way," chimed 
 in one of the two Zouaves, whose attention had been 
 caught by the last observation, " so you might as well 
 roll it off in the woods, and let us take care of it." 
 
 Tomlin now took Singular aside for a moment, while 
 the old woman engaged me in a parting message to ^Irs. 
 Judson. We were off, not without some difficulty. Sin- 
 gular being so irresistibly di'awn towards Tomhn, who 
 had just made him the happy owne'r of a gold-piece, that 
 it seemed a matter of life and death to get him away. 
 His last words, several times repeated, were, "I'U do it, 
 
BLUE HILLS. 25 
 
 my dear sir — depend on me — I'll be thar — get up, Gus- 
 ty," and at last we di'ove away. 
 
 For the three miles of our journey, the conversation, 
 which was by no means brisk, (Singular's ideas being 
 quite as slow as his motions,) was divided between his 
 fear of going home and my haste to get there. The 
 slightest disj)osition on Gusty's part to go at a tolerable 
 pace was immediately checked by Twist, who alleged 
 that the horse, having already traveled ten miles in two 
 houi'S and a half, and one mile on a trot was almost done 
 over for the day. It was only when the appearance of 
 a red shirt in a neighboring field aroused my alarm at the 
 remembrance of my morning's adventure, that I took the 
 reins myself, and suffered the horse to follow his own in- 
 clinations, by which movement our entrance into the vil- 
 lage was effected with comparative speed. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 )RS. JTJDSON was just getting tea in the sitting- 
 room when I returned, while a stout young 
 damsel, who answered to the name of Sally, flew 
 around in obedience to her energetic orders. 
 
 " Light up, Sally, don't you see how dark it's gettin' ?" 
 said the matron, while Sally ran for matches. " Oh, 
 there's Miss Renshawe. I'm glad you've got back. I 
 heered you wus a-comin' with Sing'lar more'n an hour 
 ago. IVIr. Shaker's back — come hum this arternoon with 
 his books — onpilin' 'em up stairs." 
 
 "Mr. Shaker! how fortunate !" As I was leaving the 
 room I was stopped by some drapery over a chair. 
 "What's this, Mrs. Judson?" 
 Mrs. Judson seemed embarrassed by the query: " Sally 
 
26 KENSHAWE. 
 
 and I wus makin' a flag. As 'Mx. Shaker's old, and Sing- 
 ular's no pertection, I thort there'd be no hurt in hevin' 
 this." 
 
 "This is a strange flag," I remarked, as I gazed at 
 the unfamiliar combination of colors. " Did ]Mr. Shaker 
 ■wish it made ?" 
 
 But the housekeeper banished the emblem to the closet, 
 and changed the subject. I found ]Mi'. Shaker in his 
 library, and after the gi'eetings, which were warm on 
 both sides, I hastened to speak of the danger which 
 menaced the village. Strangely enough, ]Mr. Shaker 
 seemed little affected by it. I was forced to hold up the 
 most alai-ming picture. 
 
 "My dear sir," I exclaimed, "if they buiTi down your 
 house, youi' hbrary will be destroyed, and you rendered 
 helpless." 
 
 "They won't destroy my Hbrary, child, or bum my 
 house," said ^Ir. Shaker, indifferently. " It's against the 
 law to bui'n down houses, — they would be hung for arson, 
 every one of them." 
 
 " But what law is regarded by soldiers ?" 
 
 " I am older than you," replied 31r. Shaker, compos- 
 edly, ranging a set of Cicero's comj)lete works on the 
 shelves, " and I am mistaken if there be not some law 
 among us yet. However, if you think it advisable, I'll 
 walk dowTi to the village and make some inquii'y into 
 what is going forward." 
 
 Arrayed in great-coat and hat, Mr. Shaker saUied forth. 
 
 Mrs. Judson looked after him dubiously, and Singu- 
 lar followed him to the gate with a rusty old musket, 
 which he refused to take. As whatever unpleasant dem- 
 onstrations that had been expected were, to all appear- 
 ances, delayed, the housekeeper grew calmer in soul, and 
 less tacitui-n as her fears wore off. 
 
 The sun had not loner been down before the house- 
 
BLUE HILSS. 27 
 
 keeper came flying to my door with news. Mr. Shaker 
 had come back-the regiment had proved to be nothmg 
 h^rger than a company, and Mr. Shaker hadbroiight eight 
 of the soldiers to stay aU night at his house. Moreover 
 two officers were to take tea with Mr. Shaker, and he had 
 sent up to desire my presence at the table. 
 
 "Two splendid gentlemen 1" said Mrs. Judson, with 
 enthusiasm, " and one of 'em's so tall he stooped down 
 comin' in the door. I've only seen their backs yet-i 
 was fetchin' wood when they come." 
 
 « Then how do you know they are so splendid ? said i, 
 
 ^^''Sdn't swear to it, but Mr. Shaker was fetchin' 'em 
 along as if he thort somethen of 'em." 
 
 Soon after. Mi'. Shaker came up to set my mmd at 
 ease about the late arrivals. They were not rebels at all 
 —Northern men— death on rebellion and treason. iHe 
 fla^s on church and store had come down by the hand of 
 sexton and store-keeper, and had been lately restored, 
 The captain and second liftutenant were Mr. Shakers 
 miests for the night. . . » . ^ 
 
 " Are they intelligent men, sir ?" I inquired-" educat- 
 ed*?" 
 
 Mr. Shaker shrugged his shoulders. "No-the Heu- 
 tenant is an ItaUan, and has gone at the melodeon,-the 
 other feUow— weU, he might pass among Yankees. 
 
 As "Yankees" were a people whom Mr. Shaker held 
 in special contempt, I could not hope much from his 
 classification. I was, however, not altogether prepared, 
 on my descent to the sitting-room, for so unmistakable a 
 reminder of New England lower life as was presented m 
 a taU, lank, awkward specimen of humanity, with very 
 nasal utterance, fiery red hair, and pointed beard, exult- 
 ing in the title of captain, and the prepossessing name 
 of Good. Sure that I should discover about him nothing 
 
530 KENSHAWE. 
 
 better than his name, I turned to the Hentenant. His 
 dark, plaintive face was more prepossessing, uVIi". Shaker 
 introduced him as Lieutenant Gallorda. 
 
 After tea, Mr. Shaker so entirely preferred the conver- 
 sation of the junior officer, who certainly spoke Enghsh 
 much better and more modestly than the captain, that 
 the latter drew off by the table, where he devoted him- 
 self to a little di'ill-book, much to my rehef, for I had 
 been annoyed by the necessity of appearing at all, and 
 was only anxious for the evening to close. 
 
 It was about nine o'clock when Singular Twist, appear- 
 ing at the door, asked to speak to me. Glad to get out, 
 I was in the hall directly. 
 
 "Miss Renshawe," said he, "them two lank-lookin', 
 red-shu'ted fellers that rid with us to-day, are down to 
 the lower eend of the garden, and wants to sjDeak to you. 
 They called one 'nother 'Lishe and 'Lance — said they 
 wus in a terrible hurry." 
 
 "But how did they make you hear without alarming 
 the sentinel ?" I inquired. 
 
 " Cause I was on the lookout. T'other feller, Tomlin, 
 said he was a-comin'. But he sent one of these fellers an 
 hour ago, and he went cunjerin' up in the henroost arter 
 eggs, an' the hens all flow'd out over his head, and the 
 sent'nel hollered, and they chased him to the woods. . 
 Now they've both come — down at the nor'west corner of 
 the garden, back of the quince bushes; — want to see you 
 partic'larly." 
 
 " Did they give you no idea of their errand ?" 
 
 " Nawthin' but both on 'em dead arter the cider-barreL 
 Tall un's got the most looney-lookin' eye I ever seed. 
 Still, mebbe they hev got somethin' to say ye ought to 
 hear. If 'tain't nawthin' wuth hearin' you can cum back 
 agin." 
 
 " Where are the soldiers ?" 
 
BLUE HILLS. 29 
 
 " Supper, all on 'em. I ken come along, ef you want 
 me to." 
 
 "Of course I want you to come along," I answered, 
 " and be quick, for I shall not tarry there long." I 
 wrapped my shawl about my shoulders, passed out of 
 the house and hied to the quince bushes. Twist following 
 at a slow gait and a respectful distance. I was met at 
 the fence, as I had anticipated, by the two zouaves, 
 whose sheathless bowie-knives and ghttering caps the 
 faint rays of moonlight made visible. Elisha was the 
 fii'st to speak. 
 
 " Tomlin told us to come down and find out," he said, 
 *' how every- thin' was sitooated round these quarters, 
 he said the stoopid would meet us, but to send for you, 
 for you'd be likely to know the most information. Wasn't 
 that it, 'Lance?" 
 
 " About so as nigh as I ken recollect," said 'Lance. 
 " Wliat sort is it you've got here ?" 
 
 " What am I to understand you wish to ask." I in- 
 quired. '' That is, what has Mr. Tomlin sent you to find 
 out ? " 
 
 " He told us to find out all we could, and wants to 
 know how many they be, and who they be, and who's the 
 Colonel, and whar they come from, and whar they're 
 goin' to, and two or three thousand things more." 
 
 " Fust of all," interposed the other zouave, " tell us if 
 you tuk the taps out of yer barrels." 
 
 After a moment's consideration I said that the care of 
 that had been left entii-ely to Singular. 
 
 " Well, we asked the stoopid, and he didn't know noth- 
 ini? about it," said the first zouave. 
 
 " So we kin kinclude that the stops are in the barrels," 
 added the other. 
 
 " How are you to take back so much information to 
 Mr. Tomlin ?" said I. " You would be sure to forget some- 
 
30 RENSHAWE. 
 
 thing. If you had a pencil and paper you might make 
 notes of what I tell you." 
 
 "I can't write a stroke," said Alancen, lugubriously. 
 
 " You might carry a note/' I suggested. 
 
 But the ideas of both ambassadors were evidently more 
 on the ban-els than the news. "Ef you could only smug- 
 gle us round to the cellar, and give us a drink," said 
 Alancen, "it would be doin' us both sich a kind- 
 ness." 
 
 "I think," said I, "that the farther I keep you from 
 the cellar the greater kindness it would be to both." 
 
 "IMiss Shaker," returned Alancen, "it's not in myna- 
 tur nor the natur of he to be tellin' folks what we've done 
 for 'em, and ladies especially, but I must say that this is 
 an ungTateful world. You do it benefits and it stings like 
 a viper in its bosom. I don't know how much that ere 
 watch was wuth that we took out of the exact jaws of 
 death this mornin,' but ef it hadn't been wuth pickin' up, 
 it couldn't hev been forgotten sooner, and the sarcum- 
 stances and so on. We wouldn't git tipsy to-night, not 
 on no consideration, for Tomlin wants to hear about 
 these ere sojers, an' he swore ef we didn't come back sober 
 he'd take our heads off. So you see thar wouldn't any- 
 body know it, and if we come to-morrer the sperrits 
 will be all gone, for I've seen that ar woman run down 
 five times into the cellar with a pitcher ever since I've 
 been here, and that isn't more'n half an hour." 
 
 " No matter," said Elisha, " we can get a httle su'thin' 
 in the village, and mabbe it'll be better than there is 
 here. You ort not to bother so, 'Lance. Tell us what 
 crowd it is here, ma'am and we'll be off." 
 
 But for two reasons I hesitated. In the first place, the 
 charge of ingi'atitude was not without its effect — in the 
 second place, Alancen's mention of Tomlin's anxiety led 
 me to pause in the consideration whether I would not 
 
BLUE HILLS. 31 
 
 be guilty of imprudence in sending any information to 
 a total stranger, of whom I knew nothing beyond that a 
 paper signed by Killian G. Chives had been in his pocket. 
 I therefore invited the two zouaves to come in, assuring 
 them that the beverage they coveted would be in the 
 supper-room, and as the house was occupied by Union 
 soldiers they would be safe. But no. The Union soldiers 
 might bother them with questions, or ask to see their 
 passes, in which case I judged they would be in an awk- 
 ward predicament ; altogether they preferred the ceUar 
 to the supper-room. I bade them, therefore, follow me 
 to the kitchen, where Mrs. Judson recognized them with 
 a very black look. 
 
 After some parley they prevailed upon her to light 
 them to the cellar, reminding her how they had rescued 
 "Miss Shaker's" watch from the grasp of thieves; how 
 they were Union soldiers, and how the cider was fast 
 vanishing; there would soon be none left. Mrs. Judson 
 appealed to me, and found that I feared disturbance and 
 bloodshed and thought the zouaves would not go without 
 the cider. 
 
 The housekeeper piloted them to the cellar, where they 
 staid for some time. On coming up she whispered me 
 that they had taken two or three bottles of wine in their 
 pockets, and she had thought they would stay in the cellar 
 all night. How they eluded the fresh sentinel, as the guard 
 was just reHeved, we did not care to investigate, only 
 anxious to get them out of the house. 
 
32 KENSHAWE. 
 
 CHAPTER in. 
 
 (>^^Y eleven o'clock the house was comparatively 
 still. Officers and men had sought repose, with 
 the exception of the sentinel stationed at the 
 garden paling, where his languid tread sounded with 
 monotonous regularity on the path. It was a beautiful 
 moonhght night, and rendered wakeful by the excite- 
 ment of the day, I seated myself at the open window 
 to gaze out at the neglected garden plants, fenced off 
 from the straggling trees by a dilapidated rail fence, half 
 lost among the row of spreading hlac and stunted quince 
 trees. 
 
 I had been for some time watching the moving shadows 
 of the trees and the scant clouds in the heavens, while 
 the various sounds fi'om the village, rendered indistinct 
 in the distance, fell on my ear, when my attention was 
 caught by the flash of a scarlet cap as it waved in the 
 moonlight, directly behind the quince bushes. For some 
 time this remained the only sign of hfe in that vicinity, 
 until I perceived a figure moving up the path, from whose 
 stooping shoulders, dehberate gait, and occasional full 
 stop and stare, I saw that Singular Twist was approach- 
 ing. The sentinel challenged him. Twist, pausing only 
 to supply himself vrith a fi'esh tobacco chew, rej)hed com- 
 prehensively, " it's me," and after offering his box to the 
 soldier, entered the house. The sentinel walked leisurely 
 up and down for a few turns, then took his seat on a 
 stone at the eastern tui'ning point, and rested his fore- 
 head on his gun, "SN-ith a low sigh of weariness. I had 
 but just observed this movement, when a cautious rap 
 summoned me to the door. 
 
 Singular was without; he announced that "thar was 
 a feller down at the quince bushes." 
 
BLUE HILLS. 33 
 
 " Does he wish to see me ?" I inquired, beginning to 
 comprehend that a recurrence of these nocturnal sum- 
 mons might prove rather a nuisance than an advantage. 
 
 "Wants to see you powerful." 
 
 I asked whether it were one of the two previous mes- 
 sengers, or a stranger. Singular, however, had his in- 
 structions. Really it had been too dark to see. 
 
 I told Singular he need not follow, as Mrs. Judson was 
 still below stairs employed with her extra work. A light 
 in the officers' room, as I passed it, and voices within, ap- 
 prised me that they had not yet gone to rest. I passed 
 the door quietly and sought IVIrs. Judson. We issued 
 together into the moonht yard, and, passing the sentinel, 
 who looked round and said nothing, hastened down the 
 garden walk. I never found any sentinel since so for- 
 bearing, and mention his conduct with consideration. I 
 entered the shade of the quince trees with a beating 
 heart. Mrs. Judson had stopped at a nest of Singular's 
 tools, scattered about the proposed onion bed, and began 
 gathering them up wdth some muttered animadversions 
 against that individual. Heedless of these, I approached 
 the rude fence and leaned over the rails. One human 
 figure started up, indiscernible in the darkness, till he 
 moved, and while I was resolving his identity, first into 
 the zouave Elisha, and then into his more brusque com- 
 panion, I was confronted by the slender form and clearly 
 cut features of Tomlin himself. 
 
 " As a proof of how deeply I appreciate your pohteness 
 in coming," said he, "I shall detain you only so long as 
 you can tell me what troop it is here, and whither they 
 are bound." 
 
 " How can you expect a loyal woman, ignorant of your 
 intentions, I may add, of your character, to answer ques- 
 tions for which you bring no authority, and offer no mo- 
 tive ? You may be a thoroughly faithful soldier of your 
 2* 
 
34 RENSHAWE. 
 
 country, or numbered among her foes. How am I to 
 judge ?" 
 
 "An investigation on your part is possible just now," 
 rejoined Tomlin, " that is, should you not think it neces- 
 sary to go beyond the present company. It is an impres- 
 sion of mine, that every man caiTies his credentials legi- 
 ble to every inteUigent eye. If the test is unfailing, I do 
 not fear the result." He took off his cap and turned his 
 countenance to the full moon. " Now then, read ; and 
 when I assure you that in all my thoughts, hopes and 
 wishes, I am a loyal son of the United States, find that 
 in my face that says I lie." 
 
 The scrutiny was not so well repaid as Tomlin evi- 
 dently expected, owing either to the want of better light, 
 or to the deficiency of inteUigence in my optics. The 
 young man's face, though its expression was undeniably 
 fi'ank, wore a certain air of recklessness, which the uncer- 
 tain hght could not soften, nor the straightforwardness 
 of his manner redeem. It was with a feeling of uncon- 
 querable hesitation that I bowed an acknowledgment of 
 my readiness to comply. 
 
 " There is one company of soldiers stationed at Blue 
 Hills," said I. " The regiment is on its way to Washing- 
 ton." 
 
 " So they are government troops?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 Tomlin gi'ew reflective. " Going to Washington ! w^hich 
 way?" 
 
 "Via Eocky Cross." 
 
 " And when do they move ?" 
 
 " To-morrow morning. There is a regiment of Federal 
 troops there, they say." 
 
 " They must not go to Rocky Cross," replied TomHn. 
 " The trooi^s there belong to the Confederate army." 
 
 " What are they doing at Rocky Cross ?" 
 
BLUE HILLS. 
 
 35 
 
 "I don't know ; and I see no way of finding out be- 
 tween now and to-morrow morning." 
 
 " Send one of the zouaves to inquire," I suggested. 
 
 " I would, but Elisha is drunk in the woods yonder, 
 and as Alancen cannot be found, I presume be is drunk 
 somewhere else. I sent them down here first ; have you 
 seen them ? 
 
 I detailed my interview with the zouaves in full. Tom- 
 lin expressed his astonishment that I should have facili- 
 tated their way to the cider barrel. 
 
 I owned that.I disliked to appear ungrateful, that they 
 had recovered my watch, which I valued as the gift of a 
 near friend. 
 
 "They!" exclaimed Tomlin;"who handed you that 
 little article this morning, Miss Shaker ?" 
 
 " You, to be sure," I rejoined. 
 
 " Well, did you not believe the e\ddence of your senses 
 against the claims of those foolish sots? At all events 
 you take a strange way to repay their services according 
 to the moral view of the matter." 
 
 "Certainly, I should not have done it," said I, "but I 
 had no idea they would drink so much. I hope the evil 
 extends no farther, and that no one's life or safety is en- 
 dangered." 
 
 "I am sorry for the delay, but you may avert the con- 
 sequences by taking to these officers a message from me. 
 TeU Captain— what's the name? Good?— Tell Captain 
 Good, then, that there is a regiment of Confederate 
 soldiers at Eocky Cross. Advise him against taking that 
 route to morrow." 
 
 "And should he ask your name, Mr. Tomlin?" 
 
 "Tell him the name, if you like. He won't know it.'* 
 
 " And you expect they will leave at once, don't you ? 
 
 Tomlin shook his head. "A seems," he rejoined, 
 " that two men have been on the premises, drank half a 
 
36 RENSHAWE. 
 
 barrel of cider, carried off half a cask of wine, and robbed 
 a lieni'oost, and that a lady has conferred with two parties 
 on the affairs of the nation, all without the knowledge or 
 notice of these officers or their men. If not ignorant 
 they must be as blind as bats. They are a slow set, ma- 
 dam, and what you tell them from me may produce no 
 impression." 
 
 "I wiQ report your message, sir," said I; " Good night." 
 
 "Good night." The zouave cap was lifted mechanically, 
 and the speaker moved off. I waited till his retreating 
 figure was lost in the darkness, before hastening back 
 with 'Mrs. Judson to the house, where I summoned Mr. 
 Gallorda, without loss of time, to hsten to my revelation. 
 I declared my high authority, mentioning even Tomlin's 
 name, urged the fact that there were secessionists at 
 Kocky Cross, begged that the soldiers would not think 
 of moving in that direction on the following day. Lieu- 
 tenant Gallorda preseiwed a dignified reticence, and after 
 some deliberation sent for his superior officer. The cap- 
 taiQ came down, with a quiQ behind his ear and his di'ill 
 book in his hand, and received my presentment of the 
 case with pompous disdain. 
 
 He assui-ed me I was no soldier at all, but a woman 
 unacquainted with military affairs — a j)iece of unexpected 
 information. He said he was captain of that company, 
 and competent to take care of it. He did not beHeve my 
 informant could be other than a spy, or at best, a loose 
 floating chai'acter. He knew all about the regiment at 
 Eocky Cross. It was a band of Union men — he intended 
 to join them in the morning, and should go the direct 
 road. He and his company would do well enough, — at 
 all events, if he needed any advice or suggestions on my 
 part, he would ask for Jhem. 
 
 Mr. Gallorda was more gracious. He apologized for 
 Captain Good's uncouthness of manner, and thanked me 
 
BLUE HILLS. 37 
 
 for my kindness in imparting my information. I saw 
 that it was valueless, and conscious that in giving the 
 warning I had fully discharged my duty, I regained my 
 room, to seek whatever rest my anxieties for the morrow 
 would permit. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 'ABLY the next morning the company of sol- 
 diers and their first heutenant were joined by 
 those members of theii' force who had lodged 
 under Mr. Shaker's roof. They were all im^Datient to 
 be gone, for they had learned that a force of men, proba- 
 bly secessionists, had arrived at one of the stations below, 
 and it was feared they might encounter the Federal 
 party passing through Blue Hills. 
 
 Good cast a look of triumph at me on this intelligence, 
 and said significantly: " Shall we take the road to Rocky 
 Cross, or go back as we came ?" I made no remark, and 
 he added emphatically, as the company moved off: " Don't 
 trust too implicitly to idle tales brought by strangers. 
 Believe me that man was either a spy who wished to 
 trap me by sending me away from safety, or a robber on 
 the lookout for pillage. Yours respectfully. Good." 
 
 We were just settled after the bustle attendant on the 
 departure of Mr. Shaker's guests when Sally brought news 
 from the village, of the most alarming nature. The 
 country was in a state of great disorder: an old man liv- 
 ing near the station had been murdered during the pre- 
 vious night — the telegraph wires were cut in every direc- 
 tion, and it was said that Captain Good's company would 
 never reach Rocky Cross alive. 
 
 A message soon came from the store-keeper, one of 
 the most important functionaries at Blue Hills, to recom- 
 
38 RENSHAWE. 
 
 mend !Mr. Shaker to convey away to some place of safety 
 whatever property of value he possessed, as there was no 
 saving what would be the fate of any building in the hamlet, 
 Mr. Shaker's attachments were conspicuous forthwith — all 
 hands were called to aid in moving his books from the 
 library to the floor below, and the next hour witnessed a 
 scene of unusual confusion in the establishment. With 
 nervous hands IVIr. Shaker selected the most ancient and 
 valuable of these possessions, which, with Singular's aid, 
 lie piled uj)on a huge hay-rack as far as its dimensions 
 would allow. Mr. Shaker covered the books with blan- 
 kets, and when Singular had attached the oxen he moved 
 off with his precious cargo in the du-ection of the village. 
 
 Twist wiped his face and sat down by the dog-kennel, 
 too much overcome by his recent exertions to do more 
 than shake his head dolefully in response to a loud call 
 of "Sing'lar" fi'om the sitting-room. As I hastened 
 thither I found Mrs. Judson and Sally were tying in a 
 coverlet a series of articles ranging fi*om feather beds to 
 silver forks and salt-spoons. 
 
 In the midst of these operations a figure leaped the 
 garden fence, and Tomlin entered the capacious apart- 
 ment where he stood for some minutes gazing at the 
 scene unheeded by the busy group. 
 
 "Where's that company that were here last night?" 
 inquired the visitor. 
 
 " Gone to Eocky Cross," I responded, " Captain Good 
 said he had no faith in warnings brought fi'om uncertain 
 sources." 
 
 Tomlin elevated his eyebrows and sat down with the 
 freedom that seemed natural in the disordered state of 
 the country, disposing of several eggs in the coals, and 
 watching the process of their roasting with a reflective 
 air and an occasional glance at the scene of !Mrs. Judson's 
 labors. 
 
BLUE HILLS. 
 
 39 
 
 "Now then," she said, dragging aside one huge bundle 
 of efifects; "that's Mr. Shaker's blue chany pitcher 
 — s'pose it'll break in the box wagon ?" 
 
 "Not in straw," I answered, "but you should tie the 
 mirrors better, Mrs. Judson." 
 
 "Going to Saratoga?" asked Tomhn. Mrs. Judson, 
 who had cast some furtive glances in the direction of the 
 visitor, asked me in a low tone: " One of them zows, ain't 
 it, was up to mother's yesterday ?" 
 
 I said " Yes" aside. Tomlin now asked where were the 
 old gentleman, and Twist. 
 
 "Mr. Shaker, he's gone to the village," replied Mrs. 
 Judson. " Sing'lar's jest crawled arter some of the neigh- 
 bors to help him catch Gusty. Be back about noon, I 
 suppose." 
 
 Mrs. Judson, Sally and I hied to the barn, where 
 the box wagon already stood piled with featherbeds and 
 cai-pets. The looking-glass and crockery were soon add- 
 ed, when we found it past our efforts to move the wagon 
 out on terra firma. 
 
 "We'll hev' to onload agin," said Mrs. Judson. 
 "Thair's that ar feller comin'," remarked Sally; "mebbe 
 he'll help." 
 
 Tomlin leisurely approached, eyed the wagon and ex- 
 pressed his opinion that it was woman's work, then Hfted 
 the shafts, and the conveyance jolted out of the wagon- 
 house, with a force that impelled Mi'S. Judson to spring 
 after the crockery and Sally after the looking glasses. 
 All was safe, however." 
 
 "Now then where's your horse?" demanded he, "un- 
 less you expect to draw the things yourselves." 
 
 " Gusty's way down in the back lot. Tole Sing'lar to 
 catch him, but he's cleared out entirely."^ 
 " Run from the rebels, eh ?" 
 " Ain't runnin' very fast, I guess," said Mrs. Judson, 
 
40 RENSHAWE. 
 
 " an' I'm bound he shan't hev Gusty to kerry him. Miss 
 KenshaTve an I's agoin with the baggage." 
 
 " You'd better stay where your are," rejoined Tomlin, 
 " unless you vakie the baggage more than youi' hves. 
 I'll harness the horse for you, so finish your packing and 
 be quick." 
 
 He vaulted over the fence, ran across the meadow, 
 and brought uj) Gusty in short order. Singular returned 
 to assist in the harnessing: and in comphance with ^Irs. 
 Judson's strenuous admonition he was soon urging off 
 Gusty, who moved slowly before his load, up the high- 
 way in the direction of the old woman's cottage. 
 
 Mr. Shaker's house was soon a lively scene, as many 
 women belonging to the village had hastened thither to 
 discuss the approaching calamities, and seek all the con- 
 solation that numbers could inspii-e. The sitting-room 
 was full. Most were women of the better class in the 
 village. Among the motley crowd only one figui'e was fa- 
 miliar; it was that of the old woman, ^Irs. Judson's moth- 
 er, who brought the important intelligence that Captain 
 Good and his comjDan}' were so far safe, and that they were 
 all hid away in the woods above her house. Aiter this in- 
 formation had been repeated in every possible form, and 
 discussed till it was fairly worn out, the aged female took 
 refuge in a corner of the room where she proceeded to 
 solace herseK with her pipe. Mrs. Judson's anxieties 
 about the furnitui'e increased. Singular, in going towards 
 Eocky Cross, would be sui-e to fall into the jaws of the 
 rebels with all his cargo, for though slow enough on 
 ordinary occasions ]\Irs. Judson declared that a "faster 
 feller to run into danger never was seen." 
 
 Armed with two listeners the old woman went into a 
 detailed account of her recent grievances. "Thar was 
 no less than five of them fellows," she said, " what do you 
 call 'em? — swarrows, — fiar swarrows, settled themselves 
 
BLUE HILLS. 41 
 
 inmy house the day before yesterday, and there they stayed 
 and not a word must be spoken or a place to sit down for 
 anybody. Two of 'em stole everything there was in 
 the house— the other two was the sassiest impidentest 
 fellers I ever seed in my life. And the civilest one of 
 the lot brought a great horse and stood him in the smoke- 
 house, and there he stays yet, and was hootin and bellerin 
 all night, and where his owner was nobody knew." 
 " Do you mean TomUn ?" said I. 
 
 " Law sakes, I don't know none of their names. The 
 feller with the hoss is tall and quite a Hkely looking man; 
 he didn't come with the swarrows at all— he got thar 
 night before last, and I recollect I had to boil more coffee 
 for his supper and then the rest all wanted a cup, and they 
 lay round the floor screeching and singing till twelve 
 o'clock." 
 
 " Was Elisha in last night ?" asked I. 
 " I don't know their names. There was one came in 
 this morning, as drunk as a fool. He had on a shirt of 
 printed caliker under the red one. He said it was an old 
 dress of his granny's. The other feller took him out under 
 the pump and gave him a ducking, and I thought he 
 wanted it enough." 
 
 " As for that ere Tomlin, IMiss Renshawe," remarked 
 Mrs. Judson to me, "he's as oncivil a feller as one would 
 want to meet around a kentry. I heerd him tellin' Sing- 
 'lar this momin, when he was agoin' off, that he didn't 
 see why those two women wanted to run from the 
 rebels or any one else. One on 'em was darned old and 
 t'other one was confounded ugly." 
 
 Supposing the latter part of the compHment to 
 apply to me, I endeavored to master the chagrin it 
 occasioned, with some mortification that it should 
 have produced any at aU. I soon persuaded myself 
 that an opinion from such a soui'ce was done very httle. 
 
42 EENSHAWE. 
 
 Time wore on, and as there were no signs of any 
 rebels from Blue Hills, eveiybody's apprehensions 
 calmed down considerably. One by one the wo- 
 men dropped off, and the old woman, Mrs. Judson, 
 Sally, and I were left to undisturbed possession of the 
 premises. 
 
 It was ten o'clock, perhaps later, for the sun was riding 
 quite high in the heavens, when a distant boom from the 
 north reached our ears in its reverberations through the 
 intervening chffs. 
 
 "That was a gun!" cried IMi's. Judson, starting up. 
 " Tliey're at it now, as sure as fate." 
 
 "Lord! the poor critters!" groaned the old woman. 
 "Let's run up to the rock and look." 
 
 The ledge of rock alluded to, lay a short distance 
 fi-om the first curve made by the road to the northward. 
 Following close on Mrs. Judson, we soon reached the 
 flat jut of the highest cliff, whence we all three gazed 
 anxiously towards the distant hills of Eocky Cross, strain- 
 ing eyes and ears, but seeing nothing, save the fail' fields 
 the noble forests, the white cottages, scattered sparsely 
 though the landscape, the long stretch of calm valley, 
 undulation and plain, and the solemn azure clouds. The 
 sound of a second gun soon reached our ears, and a 
 succession of quick, sharp shots cut the air, rattling off 
 in the thicket, where they lay crackling like the fii'e among 
 thorns. 
 
 " See ! see the smoke !" cried IMi'S. Judson, as the cloud 
 curled over the heads of the distant trees. " Sing'lar's 
 up thar, right in the thick of it, and Gusty, and all the 
 things. Wish now we'd sent 'em to the village." 
 
 " Mebbe they'U fight up thar tm they've aU got kiUed 
 on both sides," said the old woman. "Thar's a big 
 smoke, s'pect it's my house a-goin'." 
 
 There, seemed, however, to be a cessation of hostilities, 
 
BLUE HILLS. 43 
 
 for some minutes passed witlioiit further disturbance. 
 Just then I descried the form of a man running into the 
 gate of the garden. 
 
 "Thar's that same young cuss of a swarrow!" ex- 
 claimed the old woman. " What in conscience can he be 
 after conjiu'ing in thar ?" 
 
 The last remark was made in reference to the move- 
 ments of the Zouave, who, after running in and out of 
 the cottage, around and beyond it, and after looking into 
 the shed and the smoke-house, and other out-houses, was 
 at last attracted by a screech from the old woman, who, 
 standing on tip-toe, with both hands to her mouth, gave 
 him notification of her position. Forthwith he came up 
 the ledge by the same path, though with more dehberate 
 step, and disclosed the well-known features of the Zouave, 
 Alancen. 
 
 " Whar's Tomlin ?" was his first question. 
 
 " Oh, just look at this battle !" cried Mrs. Judson, 
 whose tongue had not ceased to run since we had arrived 
 at our present station. 
 
 " Battle !" echoed Alancen ; " that's nothing but 
 banging a little to make beUeve they don't know the reb- 
 els are coming; — I say, whar's TomHn?" 
 
 As he spoke, his eye traversed restlessly the roads in 
 all directions. He took a step or two backward and 
 beckoned to me. 
 
 " Hevn't you seen Tomlin to-day ?" 
 
 I replied I had seen him at Mr. Shaker's. 
 
 " He said I must meet he here this morning. He owes 
 me fifteen cents, and so I come. Hevn't you seen any 
 sign of he around here ?" 
 
 A distant call attracted our attention to the gate of 
 the lawn, at which stood a man whom, at that distance, 
 it was difficult to identif5\ 
 
 "Thar's somebody a-shoutin'," said Mrs. Judson; "he 
 
44 RENSHAWE. 
 
 just come up the hill, that is, his shirt did, I didn't see 
 him." 
 
 " That's he," said Alancen, and hastening down the 
 cHff he emerged on the highway, where Torahn speedily- 
 met him. After a short conversation Alancen started off 
 on a fast run for the village, and Tomhn struck into the 
 woods. 
 
 Anxiously did we await intelligence from the quarter 
 of the omens. None came; and it wore on to broad high 
 noon with our uncertainty still unreheved. It was some 
 time after our descent from the rock, where we had Hs- 
 tened to the awe-inspiring sounds fi'om the north, that 
 Singular's retui'n was heraJded by Sally. Gusty's famil- 
 iar image, and Twist's conspicuous straw hat, were next 
 in sight, and the box-wagon rattled into the court-yard 
 at a more tumultuous rate than was usual under the 
 auspices of its methodical driver. 
 
 Singular was armed with exciting intelligence. There 
 had been a tremendous battle — Captain Good had sur- 
 rendered, and had been carried off to Eocky Cross a pris- 
 oner. Three men of his company had been wounded, 
 and they were then at the cottage of IMrs. Judson's 
 mother. The sm\geon had been sent for, and Singular 
 himself, after making sui'e that the fight was ended, had 
 ventured to seize upon Gusty and the wagon, and thus 
 avoided what he termed " a powerful tii'esome walk 
 home." 
 
 "Don't onharness, Sing'lar," shouted Mrs. Judson. 
 " Let Gusty stan' while I get rea.dy. Mother and me's 
 a-goin' up there, right away. You ken kill a few chick- 
 ens, and put 'em into the wagon. Thar can't be nothin' 
 left up thar to eat, with all them fire zows a visitin' sin 
 day afore yesterday." 
 
 This surmise was confirmed by the old woman, and 
 when haK a dozen good sized baskets, filled with provis- 
 
BLUE HILLS. 45 
 
 ions, had been placed in the wagon, Gusty again moved 
 off to the north, with the two females on the seat. 
 
 Singular, in the meantime, had gone to meet Mr. 
 Shaker, and on his return from an unsuccessful search 
 for his master, was quite surprised to find that the women 
 had gone. During that morning Gusty had already trav- 
 eled six miles, and he had a spavin which was always 
 worse when he was driven. Singular knew those women 
 would drive so hard as to finish him off completely. He 
 assui-ed me confidentially, that " that Jul}" Judson " was a 
 very contrary creetur; raely, a crookeder stick he'd never 
 seen in his life, and she was alius in a hurry. If there 
 was anything in this world he did despise it was a woman 
 or a man that was all the time a-blowin' a whistle, and 
 travehn' like a rail-road car. Thar ort to be moderation 
 in all things, and six miles for Gusty in one day was 
 more than enough. 
 
 I paid but Uttle attention to these murmurings at first, 
 until I found that other miseries than Gusty's were in- 
 volved. 
 
 "Then, you see," Twist continued, "Mr. Shaker'll be 
 back, and be wantin' me to help move his books. I can't 
 go clar back up thar agin, not if they never don't git thar 
 medicines." 
 
 I asked what medicines he meant, and was informed 
 that the doctor had met him on the road, and commis- 
 sioned him to procure several drugs at the village, which 
 he expected to need in the course of the day. These 
 Twist would not take it upon himself to carry. It was a 
 small package of several small phials, and perceiving that 
 Singular was obdurate, I determined immediately to re- 
 pair the dehnquency. I saw his mind was greatly 
 relieved as soon as I announced my intention, for he 
 was not so far given over to his idols as not to feel some 
 compunctions for his neglect of the wounded men. 
 
46 KENSHAWE. 
 
 " Singular," I said, just as I was about setting out with 
 my basket of medicines on my arm; "what was it that 
 ]\Ir. Tomhn said to you about 'Mis. Judson and myself this 
 morning?" 
 
 " This mornin' ?" echoed Twist, with a conscious look. 
 
 "Yes, when you were getting into the box-wagon." 
 
 " Wall, he did mention a httle su'thin' ; said she warn't 
 very young, an' you warn't — very harnsome. I'm much 
 obleeged to you for totin' up the medicine stuff, but it'll 
 be a powerful tiresome walk ef ye don't meet with a lot 
 o' soldiers. Have the gun ?" 
 
 I dechned, with thanks, and, rendered nervous by the 
 late surmise, I proceeded to execute my errand at a gait 
 that must have excited Sinonilar's admiration. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 ^^yHE doctor's gig stood at the gate of the cottage 
 |t^'\ just as I arrived. Mrs. Judson ran out to take 
 
 ^^ the medicines, mentioning Singular in terms 
 more energetic than polite : 
 
 "Whole posse of 'em here — most dead — three rebels — 
 can't tell whether t'other is a rebel or not. Ben flyin' 
 round the house ever sence I come !" 
 
 The doctor came out with a morocco case of imple- 
 ments, stopped to take the medicines from me, and to 
 utter some rapid dii'ections to us both : "So many drops 
 to the patients up-stairs, and the powders to Tomlin." 
 
 "Tomlin!" I exclaimed; "is he hurt?" 
 
 " Shot in the leg," repUed IMrs. Judson, " walked up 
 through the woods afterwards, anyhow." 
 
 The doctor drove off with a promise to call in the eve- 
 
BLUE HILLS. 47 
 
 ning, and I followed Mrs. Judson in, so precipitately that 
 I nearly ran against Tomlin, who was lying on the floor 
 near the door-way, his breath coming and going in quick, 
 strong gasps, and the perspiration in large drops on his 
 face and temples. The old woman, rendered decidedly 
 cross by the present inundation of guests, whom, she de- 
 clared, she should never get rid of in a month, was bust- 
 ling about with sheafs of straw, filHng the room with dust 
 and confused grumblings. For my own part, my com- 
 miseration rendered me dumb for some minutes; then I 
 ventured to ask Tomlin whether I could serve him, by 
 vnriting to apprise his fi-iend of the accident. To this he 
 simply said " No ;" and when I added a suggestion that 
 he might like to be sent home, replied that he had none. 
 After this I was silent. The old woman now came in 
 and announced to Mrs. Judson that she had extemporized 
 a bed for Tomlin, in the room overhead, out of a couple of 
 saw-horses, some boards, a sheaf of straw, and a horse 
 blanket, which was all there was to be had. 
 
 "You know," said Tomlin, "that I can't get up-stairs. 
 Bring the bed down." 
 
 "I can't; goodness, hev you down here botherin ! 
 Parlor an' settin' room both took up." 
 
 " I didn't say so," retorted Tomlin, crossly; " I wouldn't 
 stay here in this smoky hole, I assure you. Get the bed 
 into the smoke-house. I'd rather stay there fifty times 
 over." 
 
 " Smoke'us ! well, I guess so. S'pect you're goin' to 
 keep me trotten up-stairs, an out-doors too ! An' your 
 hoss is in my smoke'us, and two hams Mr. Shaker gave 
 me sufferin' to be smoked." 
 
 Tomhn answered in a petulant tone; but she could out- 
 talk him, and finally he besought her to be silent. The 
 argument in regard to the smoke-house was ended only 
 by the appearance of the zouave Alancen. 
 
48 EENSHATVE. 
 
 " HeTn't you seen Tom 1 in ? " asked he, presenting his 
 shaggy head at the door. " Oh ! there you air ! WTiat's 
 the matter ? 
 
 Mrs. Judson and her mother began in full chorus to 
 demand that Tomhn should be taken above stairs. 
 
 "Yes, for heaven's sake," said Tomlin, "before you say 
 another word, get me out of this place before I am fairly 
 dead fi'om a woman's tongue." 
 
 "Bless my soul! you agoin' to be laid up!" exclaimed 
 Alancen, " I'll do what I ken ; but I ken't get you up 
 them stairs nohow. Come out through this door and 
 walk up the hill to the fi'ont one." 
 
 "It's all nailed up," cried the old woman, "and a stick 
 nailed across it ; I say it's nailed so nobody can get in — 
 fuU of nails !" 
 
 "Massy! don't you s'pose I've seed nails afore?" re- 
 torted the zouave ; "jest you go up an' onbolt, an' ef 
 Tomlin can't get under the stick nor over it, why, I'U 
 smash it down, and the least said the soonest mended. 
 I don't see no use in nailin' up a house without it is to 
 aggravate the fellows that wants to get in." 
 
 Tomlin took the arm of the zouave, and, though with 
 much difficulty, made his way up the hill, and through 
 the front door, Alancen breaking down the banicade, 
 much to the old woman's indignation. The operation 
 was quite fatiguing, and when Tomlin sank at last on 
 the improvised couch, his deadly pallor was that of a man 
 at the last gasp. 
 
 "Seems to be a-dyin'," remarked the aged female, in 
 the tone of one who alludes to a consummation devoutly to 
 be wished. 
 
 "Nawthin' but a chill," said Alancen, reassuringly. 
 " Hain't you got no blankets nor bed-clothes to cover he up?" 
 
 "Narry a thing," assei-ted the hostess; "all I've got is 
 on the other feUers, an' more too." 
 
BLUE HILLS. '49 
 
 "Don't you know that those fellers is rebels?" said 
 Alancen fiercely; "go right in thar, and haul the things 
 orf. Don't you see what a chill he's got ? shakes Hke a 
 hoss agoin' to mill. Come, get them clothes orf the rebels 
 I say." 
 
 Tomlin with some difSculty gasped out a protestation. 
 Nothing on those beds should be touched. There was 
 his coat below stairs, and a sheep-skin in the smoke- 
 house. 
 
 "Sheep-skin!" yelled the old woman; ''that's a good 
 sheep-skin — can't hev it here noway." 
 
 "Get it," roared Alancen; and after much grumbhngthe 
 sheep-skin came. Alancen threatened to nail it fast to 
 the boards if the old woman said any more, and at any 
 rate he should mount guard there for the rest of the 
 afternoon to take care of his " comrade." 
 
 The other zouave came in before long. Tomlin still quite 
 exhausted, held a discourse with him in an undertone, 
 and the result was an errand on Elisha's part at Rocky 
 Cross. The zouaves insisted on dinner as a prehminary, 
 and for some time the meal proceeded peaceably till 
 Alancen's vn-ath was excited at last by a comment made 
 by his companion on his pecuHarities of diction. 
 
 " What makes you all the time keep sayin' ' he,' when 
 you ort to say 'him,' Lance?" he demanded. "Don't you 
 know it's bad grammar? 'tell he' and 'take he ' — ^who ever 
 heerd sech talk ?" 
 
 " You poor known-nauthen creeter," said Alancen, pro- 
 foundly compassionate. "All the grammar books will 
 tell you it's onreggilar to say him the way folks always 
 says it." 
 
 " Bad grammar to say him !" cried Elisha. 
 
 " Yes, I tell you, I am, thou art, he is, contractions, Isn, 
 yoursn, hisn — got a good whippin' once on that to 
 school; I ken show you 'he is ' in any grammar." 
 3 
 
50 REXSHAWE. 
 
 " That may be, but not 'he' all the time," expostulated 
 Elisha. 
 
 The discussion grew loud; the zouaves yelled, grew red 
 in the face, and hammered on the table with knives and 
 fists. An admonishing call from above sounded in a 
 second's interval of exhaustion. 
 
 " Lord ! that man ain't dead yet," groaned the old wo- 
 man. Mrs. Judson ran to the top of the step ladder 
 and opened the door. 
 
 " Tell those fellows I won't have any more of that con- 
 founded noise," said Tomhn sharply. "I want you to 
 give Elisha his dinner and get him off." 
 
 "I've giv' him his dinner," retorted Judson, and she 
 pronounced Tomlin cross as two sticks — pitied his wife if 
 he had one, and his mother if she had seen him gi'ow up. 
 The disturbance was queUed in a measure : EHsha was 
 soon ready to go, and stnick off on foot for the North, 
 and Alancen withdrew to the upper rooms. We had de- 
 ferred oui' repast till it could be taken at leisure, and a 
 discussion peaceful in its natui'e, which next arose, prom- 
 ised to sux3ply enough to think of aside from any other 
 consideration. 
 
 CHAPTEK VI. 
 
 EOCKY CEOSS. 
 
 fT related to my trunk, and any woman who peruses 
 these pages will readily understand the feeling of 
 anxiety with which I contemplated its fate. The 
 carpet-bag brought by Singular Twist from the depot 
 contained enough for present necessities, but in my 
 trunk were much summer clothing, valuable ornaments 
 and laces, highly prized mementoes, letters, books and 
 many things too numerous to mention. The more I con- 
 
BLUE HILLS. 
 
 51 
 
 sidered the matter, the stronger grew my reluctance to re- 
 main in ignorance of its fate. I was sure that if I were 
 to go to Rocky Cross I should meet with no detention, 
 should be civilly treated, might be aUowed to come away 
 with my property, or at least might ascertain into whose 
 hands it had fallen. Mrs. Judson's whose opinion of the 
 rebels was by no means very severe, agreed with me in 
 the general probabiHty of my self-assurance, and as my 
 anxiety gi'ew stronger, she suggested that a way might be 
 found by which I might succeed. The secessionists^ had 
 taken Gusty away that very morning, therefore neither 
 he nor the box wagon was available. Rocky Cross was 
 eight mHes distant— five hours would be ample time to 
 take me thither and back on a horse not remarkably fleet, 
 allowing for httle detentions. I saw no objection except 
 the want of a horse, side-saddle and riding habit. 
 
 Thar was Tomlin's hoss out in the smoke-house, the 
 old woman remarked; she thought his legs looked prettj/ 
 long— guessed he could go and come in two hours. Mrs. 
 Judson added that among the valuables which she had 
 rescued were Miss Edith Launey's side-saddle and a bran- 
 new riding habit. She could not wonder in the least at 
 my anxiety about the trunk, nor at my fearlessness of 
 the rebels whom she thought the mildest, peaceablest 
 folks she ever had seen. 
 
 An inspection of the riding habit and side-saddle was 
 quite satisfactory. The former was of very handsome 
 materials, though preposterously long, being calculated to 
 tangle the feet of any horse of ordinary height, and the 
 decorations of gilt cord and gold buttons I did not regard 
 as adding to its taste or beauty. The side-saddle was 
 well equipped with girths and straps of no doubtful 
 strength, and the next thing in order was asking Tomlin 
 for the loan of his horse. I made my way up the step- 
 ladder to the room above with caution, being reluctant to 
 
52 RENSHAWE. 
 
 disturb him if asleeep. Tomlin was wide awake, Ms 
 large eyes fastened dreamily on a quarter of the wall, on 
 which the sunbeams reflected from an array of tin out- 
 side the window kej^t up an unremitting play. 
 
 " 1 think of taking a ride this afternoon," said I, "and I 
 came to borrow your horse." 
 
 The full dark eyes, shaded by a hand nearly as white 
 as the sheep-skin on which it rested, regarded me for a 
 minute as though I had asked for a cannon. 
 
 " Going on business, or merely for the exercise?" 
 
 "Business of a pressing nature." 
 
 More silent scrutiny; — the eyes grew reflective. 
 
 " You are a Union woman, I beheve ?" 
 
 " Will that make any difference about my having the 
 horse?" 
 
 "No; oh no. Going to be gone long ?" 
 
 "Not a great while; four or five hours." 
 
 More silence. I grew impatient. 
 
 "You have not said yet whether I can have the horse." 
 
 " I'm afraid you can't manage him." 
 
 " Can I have him, ]Mr. Tomlin ?" 
 
 "Yes," replied Tomlin, in the tone of a man who as- 
 sents because he looks upon denial as useless. I has- 
 tened to the smoke-house, and must confess to a feeling 
 of dismay at sight of the quadi-uped. He was a beast 
 whose apj)earance was calculated to dismay a woman less 
 determined on enterprise than I. Mrs. Judson assisted 
 me to put on the saddle, and I hastened back to the 
 house to clothe myself in Miss Launey's riding habit. 
 
 " That girl will get her neck broken," said Tomhn to 
 Mrs. Judson, who had gone up to attend on the patients 
 * Do you know where she is going ?" 
 
 " After some clothes," Mrs. Judson answered with very 
 proper reticence. Tomlin declared that, in that case, he 
 would say no more, but a minute after I heard him ask- 
 
BLUE HILLS. 53 
 
 ing her wlio I was and where I came from, and desiring 
 her to tell me that the horse was unbearable on a trot 
 and dangerous on a canter, and that I ought not to ven- 
 ture him off a walk. 
 
 I untied the horse with some awe — he behaved very- 
 well till he reached the fence and I was safe on his back, 
 when he turned around thrice in quick waltzing time. I 
 reined him in with a strong pull on the curb bit, and thus 
 brought to his senses he walked quietly through the gate, 
 and I turned his head in the direction of Kocky Cross. 
 
 It was some time before I ventured to let him exceed 
 a walk, but when he had coursed through a tract of forest, 
 where the branching limbs were effectual protection 
 against the rays of the summer's sun, Bucephalus merged 
 into a trot, a gait so swift as to put considerable distance, 
 in a short space of time, between me and the cottage. I 
 felt a little nervous, and was doubtful whether I had done 
 wisely in undertaking so perilous a journey, even for the 
 sake of an important trunk. It was not only a lonely 
 but a sohtary road, — I met no one in the whole course of 
 the distance, which I followed according to the minute 
 direction given me by Mrs. Judson. On reaching the 
 turnpike I rode on faster, and soon came in sight of the 
 secession flags floating from the steeples of Black Cross. 
 Just before I entered the village, as I passed a little gothic 
 cottage, oppressed by a load of shrubbery which was 
 scarcely restrained by the fence, a young lady issued fi'om 
 the gate, which she appeared to think unworthy the touch 
 of her fair fingers, for she opened it with an air of great 
 disgust, and addressed me. 
 
 " Do you know where I can find a saddle-horse ?" 
 
 I repHed as courteously as possible to the effect that 
 I did not know, and the young lady retreated through 
 the shrubbery. I rode on. Indeed it would have been a 
 difficult matter to stop; but the first face I had met 
 
54 RENSHAWE. 
 
 with on the way naturally made some impression on me. 
 It was long, thin, and colorless, the eyes rather sunken, 
 and the expression unattractive; but tKe other details 
 struck me with no little wonder. Her figure was slender, 
 and not particularly graceful; her dress, of a black though 
 not moui'ning material, was made and trimmed in the 
 latest fashion, and her hair appeared to be fi-esh from 
 the hands of the barber. I had but little time to think 
 of her, however, as I was soon in the heart of the village. 
 Soldiers were standing about the sidewalks, and walking 
 in knots of two and three together, and secession colors 
 met my eye in every direction. As I turned down the 
 main road a young man, in the dress of an officer, 
 crossed the street. 
 
 It was Captain Charles Berkley. I knew him immedi- 
 ately, and a second look settled the conviction on my 
 imagination. Before this, I had seen him for a few min- 
 utes only, under circumstances which did not permit a 
 close scrutiny; still my present impression was firm. Re- 
 vohdng the matter busily, I rode on to the station, where 
 I expected to find my trunk. It was not there, and the 
 solitary occupant of the depot informed me that every- 
 thing there in the shape of baggage had been taken to 
 the Colonel's head-quarters. 
 
 Having come so far, I thought it a pity to return with- 
 out success, and on making application to a middle-aged 
 and gentlemanly-looking officer for assistance, found it 
 afforded in the most poUte and ready manner. The offi- 
 cer conducted me immediately to the head-quarters. 
 Here I descended — the horse was led off to be fed, and 
 I followed my guide into the parlor of a httle tavern 
 fronting on the street. There was much baggage piled 
 about the room, and I soon recognized my trunk stand- 
 ing on end in a corner of the apartment, the centre-piece 
 of a pile of well-filled sacks, empty knapsacks, and broken 
 baskets. 
 
f BLUE HILLS. 55 
 
 While I sat looking over some New York papers of a 
 recent date which lay on the table, an elderly female in 
 a dark dress, plaid shawl, and old straw bonnet, trimmed 
 with dingy ribbon, came into the room, asking to see 
 Colonel Hunter immediately, without delay. Her name 
 was desired. "Mrs. Kyan," she answered, "important 
 business." Mrs. Kyan was asked to see one of the staff, 
 but no — nobody would do but the Colonel. 
 
 The appearance of an officer in uniform, who looked as 
 though the cares of a nation rested on his shoulders, 
 was the consequence of this demand. He was a stoutly 
 built man, of average height, and carried himself with an 
 air of confidence. His features were somewhat flat — 
 the mouth broad, the eyes blue, the forehead squarish, 
 and his whole bearing was free and easy, rather than ele- 
 gant. He came in in a great hurry, and inferring, proba- 
 bly, from the magnificence of my costume, that I was 
 the more important party of the two, addressed me first. 
 " My time is quite limited, madam," he said, " so com- 
 mand me immediately." 
 
 I said I had been without my trunk for two or three 
 days, and as it was in the room at present I took the 
 hberty of asking if I might have it. I had ridden about 
 ten miles on horseback for the purpose of making this 
 request. 
 
 " Good heavens, Mrs. Ryan !" exclaimed the Colonel, 
 " couldn't you have seen one of my staff on this trifling 
 subject ? You can have your trunk, certainly. AVill you 
 take it away on horseback ?" 
 
 I expressed my willingness to confer with any member 
 of the staff, and announced that my name was not Ryan. 
 An officer was called in by the Colonel, and directed to 
 attend to my wants. I had the key of the trunk, and 
 while the officer was ascertaining whether it would fit, 
 my attention was caught by a dialogue carried on be- 
 
56 RENSHAWE. 
 
 tween Mrs. Eyan and Colonel Hunter. She announced 
 that she had received a letter from Tomlin. 
 
 " Very happy that you have received a letter, and sorry 
 not to know Tomlin," said the Colonel; any more impor- 
 tant intelligence T' 
 
 " Here's the note; I thought you might read it," re- 
 joined the woman. She handed the billet to Hunter, 
 and he stood occupied with its perusal. I was anxious 
 for the issue, but felt that it would not do to linger 
 there. The trunk was acknowledged to be mine, and the 
 means of its transportation was discussed feelingly by 
 the officer who had been appointed to the trial. I in- 
 formed him that there were some wounded soldiers at 
 the cottage where I was staying, for whom an ambulance 
 was to be sent from Eocky Cross; that I supposed my 
 horse and wagon, (for I thought the possessive pronoun 
 allowable under the circumstances,) would accompany 
 the ambulance, and my trunk could come with it. The 
 officer, who was certainly very obliging, attended imme- 
 diately to the matter, and with such alacrity that by four 
 o'clock, I, on Tomlin's well-fed steed, was riding on the 
 homeward route in company with the ambulance, Gusty, 
 Mi\ Shaker's wagon, and two drivers. I kept a httle in 
 advance of the party, and was in ignorance of the pecu- 
 liarities of their manners; therefore, when we reached 
 the cottage, which was about an hour after sunset, I was 
 rather surprised to find them both extremely tipsy. 
 
 Everything at the cottage remained the same, except 
 that there was rather more bustle than when I left it, 
 occasioned by the demands made by the wounded men 
 on their female attendants. I contemplated with no 
 Httle compunction the necessity of abandoning the poor 
 fellows to the guidance of two drunken drivers for the 
 distance of eight miles; but there seemed to be no alter- 
 native, and the next contingency to be provided against 
 
BLUE HILLS. 57 
 
 was that of the said envoys' taking away more than they 
 were entitled to carry. It was with some difficulty that I 
 made them understand who were the proper objects 
 of their care; and not until they had nearly dragged 
 Tomhn off the bed, or, to speak more accurately, off the 
 saw-horses and boards, could they be prevailed on to let 
 go their hold. They were all off at last, the three wound- 
 ed men, the two tipsy men, the ambulance, and the 
 horse that drew it, to say nothing of a few bed-clothes, 
 two straw ticks, a couple of candles, and several jugs, 
 spirited away, probably, under the delusion that they 
 contained something stronger than water. / 
 
 I had just witnessed the last of these manoeuvres, and 
 had seated myself to the welcome refreshment of a little 
 tea, served on the kitchen table, (for it was as late as 
 nine o'clock, and after my long ride I was hungry,) when 
 Mrs. Judson, after shutting the gate on the departing 
 guests, dragged herself wearily in. 
 
 " That feller up-stairs, in the room overhead, wants to 
 see you, Miss Renshawe," she said. "I don't know 
 whether he'U wait till you've done supper or not — seems 
 to be in a hurry." 
 
 I did not tarry ; a few seconds found me up the step- 
 ladder, and asking Tomlin what he wanted. 
 
 Tomlin was very restless, and quite feverish. He asked 
 if all the doors were shut, so that those chattering wo- 
 men were out of hearing. Having made this matter sure 
 I was next acquainted with his intentions. 
 
 " Any carriage or wagon on these premises ?" he in- 
 quired. 
 
 I mentioned the box- wagon, which had just come from 
 Rocky Cross. 
 
 He next inquired if his horse was below. I answered 
 in the affirmative. 
 
 " What time of night is it?" 
 
58 EENSHA^Ti 
 
 " Nine o'clock," said I. 
 
 Tomlin raised himself on one elbow, wincing visibly 
 with the movement, and looked at the darkness gathering 
 outside the window. 
 
 "Any moon?" 
 
 " Not tin midnight. " 
 
 Tomlin now informed me that it would be necessary for 
 him to go that night to Caney Fork, a town about twenty 
 miles distant. As he was not able to travel on horse- 
 back he would like to have the wagon got ready immedi- 
 ately. 
 
 I expressed some doubts of his sanity, but his very 
 collected manner banished that idea. Forced to adduce 
 some additional reason, Tomlin, though with evident re- 
 luctance, went into particulars. He informed me that 
 for the past few days he had been acting as a scout 
 for a small division of the Union Army. The presence 
 of the Confederate troops at Kocky Cross was only tem- 
 porary, and it needed only for him to go to Caney Fork 
 to render it dangerous. The Eocky Cross regiment held 
 Good, Gallorda, and their company prisoners. He hap- 
 pened to know — no matter how he received his informa- 
 tion — that a body of Union men would stop that night at 
 Caney Fork, and that when informed of the numbers and 
 position of those at Kocky Cross, they would stop a little 
 longer, and take them prisoners before proceeding. The 
 zouave, Alancen, was to have aided in the expedition, but 
 he had been away two or three hours, very probably in- 
 toxicated, and at all events, Tomlin could wait for him 
 no longer. 
 
 It needed only this explanation to ensure in me the 
 most willing of assistants. I hurried out doors to in- 
 spect the facilities. I found !Mrs. Judson unharnessing 
 Gusty, while her mother held the lantern. 
 
 "Men's work and all kinds you see, Miss Renshawe," 
 
BLUE HILLS. 59 
 
 said Mrs. Judson. " Here's poor Gusty as patient as a 
 lamb, and I'm sorry about Miss Launey's side saddle. 
 Them drunken fools turned that hoss out without takin orf 
 the saddle, an' the crittui-'s rolled on it an' broke the horn." 
 
 "No matter," said I , "we must catch that horse again, 
 and harness him to the wagon; TomHn wants to go to 
 Caney Fork." 
 
 " Wants to go lohere V shouted both the women in 
 astonishment. I repeated the announcement as calmly 
 as possible. 
 
 "Head wanderin', think?" asked Mrs. Judson, in a 
 tone calculated to give the death-blow to the project. 
 
 I said no — that he really had an important errand. 
 
 " I'll go in and see him," said Mrs. Judson, and after 
 turning Gusty loose she followed me to the room of which 
 Tomlin was the soHtary occupant. 
 
 " I wouldn't go to Caney Fork to night if I was you," 
 she said. " Won't your business keep till you can set up 
 in bed, Mr. TomUn." 
 
 " I'm going to-night," said Tomlin. " Make haste for 
 God's sake, and harness that horse; the next thing wiU 
 be to get me down stairs." 
 
 "I can't get you down stars. I hevn't got the strength 
 of Harkelus, And there's only three lone women here; 
 how can we ever put the hoss in the wagon !" 
 
 " I didn't ask you to put him in the wagon, only in 
 the shafts," said Tomlin. "Don't stand here arguing 
 woman, I haven't all night to spare." 
 
 " I'll do jest what you say," said Mrs. Judson, appeal- 
 ing with a bewildered look to me. 
 
 " It is necessary, I fear," I replied. 
 
 Mrs. Judson took up the lantern, and though with 
 much reluctance on her part, we saUied forth again. 
 
 "I don't see into this affair at all," she said. "Who's 
 agoin' to drive?" 
 
60 EENSHAWE. 
 
 "I shall go with him," said I. 
 
 IMrs. Judson shook her head, deposited the lantern on 
 the fence of the one-acre lot we had just entered, and we 
 set about giving chase for the horse. But it soon ap- 
 peared that it was much more easy to capture the said 
 animal in a smoke-house than in an area of one acre. 
 After uniting our efforts for some time we stopped to 
 hold a council. 
 
 "Are there no oats that we can entice him with?" said 
 I. 
 
 "Old red devil's hide is so full of oats now that his 
 head's fairly turned with 'em. We'll try Gusty." 
 
 Gusty was tried and found to succeed as far as catch- 
 ing was concerned. He was guided obediently to the 
 conveyance, but just as the harness was adjusted on his 
 back he sighed, gi'oaned, fell on his knees and gave every 
 token of a cataleptic fit. 
 
 "Good laws! the hoss is a-dyin!" exclaimed Mrs. 
 Judson. " :Mi\ Shaker's poor old Gusty !" 
 
 Poor old Gusty was immediately extricated, as fast as 
 two pair of hands could accompHsh it. Mi'S. Judson 
 vsdped her forehead. 
 
 " Guess Tomlin won't get to Caney Fork to-night at 
 this rate," she said. " Sixteen miles yesterday and to- 
 day is too much for Gusty, and thar's that gi'eat snortin' 
 red brute come to the fence to look on. Wuth while to 
 try. and catch him, think ?" 
 
 I again suggested the oats. A peck measure full was 
 pro\ided and offered to the sagacious steed, who sniffed of 
 them and quietly proceeded to their consumption. I soon 
 had him fast by the mane, Mrs. Judson brought a halter 
 and his capture was complete. 
 
 " Now, then, we'll get him right in the wagon." But 
 this division of the triumph was diversified in its inci- 
 dents. After multitudinous backings of the animal, which 
 
BLUE HILLS. 61 
 
 without exaggeration was the tallest horse I ever saw^ 
 mingled ^vith repeated solicitations on the part of Mrs. 
 Judson, such as "Thar now, old feller, step straight." we 
 urged the beast to a proper position. Just as we secured 
 the traces a loud sigh on his part, and a staggering 
 moYement a la Gusty, was conducive to dismay. 
 
 " Get him out, quick 1" exclaimed Mrs. Judson. " He'U 
 break the shaves— he'U kick down the dash-board. Lord ! 
 he's Hke an elerphantl Unbuckle the breechin' strap 
 quick. Seems handled just hke Gusty. They must hev' 
 been poisoned up thar at Kocky Cross." 
 
 The harness came off quicker than it ever went on, and 
 as soon as the horse was fi-eed from the incumbrance he 
 manifested his sense of dehght by prancing, kicking, toss- 
 ing his head, and by various other equine manoeuvres. 
 
 °'Yer dancin' too soon, old feUer!" exclaimed Mrs. 
 Judson, whose wrath was aroused by this demonstration. 
 " Couldn't wait till ye got in the lot ! Now then I'll pay 
 you for mimickin' poor old Gusty. The horse was again 
 caught and backed up to the wagon. "Little you feel 
 yer sixteen miles, cuttin' capers hke that. Hist the 
 shaves up and fetch em down on his back Miss Eenshawe. 
 I'm no notion of havin' him lyin' down on 'em agin'. 
 Seems to hev' been a circus boss, or sich." 
 
 " Tomlin's a hollerin'," observed the old woman from 
 the kitchen. 
 
 "He's gottohoUer then," said Mrs. Judson; "been a 
 hoUerin' aU day about nothing; he can holler now for 
 somethin'. Yew'll hev to be earful goin' down hiUs, Mjss 
 Eenshawe— breechin' is wonderful weak, and the hills 
 atween here and Caney Fork is straight up and down, 
 some on 'em." 
 
 Laying to heart this encouraging admonition, and 
 having seen that the harness was as strongly secured as its 
 joints would allow, we came back to the house, and having 
 
62 RENSHAWE. 
 
 made our way up the step ladder, found Mr. Tomlin in a 
 state of great agitation. 
 
 " Hevn't but jest this minit got harnessed," said !Mrs' 
 Judson. 
 
 "^Miat the devil have you been doing?" said Tomlin; 
 *'it's nearly ten o'clock." 
 
 "Can't help it my lord if it is; that *ere boss of your'n 
 cut so many didos — " 
 
 " Well never mind ; get me out to the wagon as quick 
 as you can." 
 
 This operation was next considered. " Take me right 
 up and carry me," suggested the subject. "There are 
 three of you !" 
 
 " How much do you suppose you weigh ?" asked Mrs. 
 Judson. 
 
 " Not so much as I did this morning." 
 
 Our efforts were united, and after much labor we suc- 
 ceeded, not in lifting Mr. Tomlin, but in bringing down 
 the saw-horses, boards, sheep-skins, etc., all in a heap. 
 
 " Now we've done it !" exclaimed Judson. 
 
 "You have certainly done it," said Tomlin, "if that 
 means you've smashed my leg. Now, then, can't you 
 drag me along the floor to the front door ? then I'll try- 
 to walk." 
 
 "Maybe you'U walk to Caney Fork," said ]Mrs. Judson. 
 Acting on his suggestion, she took one shoulder and I 
 the other, while the old woman supported the wounded 
 leg. In this unceremonious fashion we reached the fi'ont 
 door. 
 
 ISIrs. Judson spread a sheaf of straw in the wagon, 
 which was backed up to the steepest part of the side-hill. 
 The door was taken off its hinges, adjusted with one 
 end on the wagon, the other on a level with the porch, 
 and the rough transportation was soon effected. 
 
 The night wind blew cold on Tomlin 's reduced frame. 
 
BLUE HELLS. 
 
 63 
 
 and I hastened to bring out the coverings, while Mrs. 
 Judson fastened in the board at the end, and placed the 
 seat in front. 
 
 "Won't you go too, Mrs. Judson?" I asked. 
 
 " Wouldn't trust myself behind that harness over that 
 rough road to-night for a fortune, and ef Tomhn's goin' 
 to groan hke that aU the way, I wouldn't go for ten." 
 
 " Says put in the saddle," said the old woman, who had 
 been adjusting the straw under Tomlin's head. 
 
 "Calkilate to ride hossback to-night?" asked Mrs. Jud- 
 son. " Laws ! laws ! you'U get to Caney Fork in style ! 
 Better take Gusty, Mr. Tomhn; you and he's about a 
 match." 
 
 "Means the side-saddle," answered the old woman. 
 
 The disabled side-saddle was brought; a delay of a few 
 minutes ensued while Tomlin's pistols were sought in the 
 remains of his bed, and with these securely deposited 
 under the seat, I took my place, and Sunset, which I 
 learned to be the name of the sagacious steed, moved off 
 again under my guidance on the high-road. I looked 
 back several times, rather regretfully, at the door, where 
 Mrs. Judson's tall, gaunt form, and her mother's white 
 cap were made visible by the rays of the candle which 
 she held up to Hght my course. A turn in the road soon 
 hid the friendly gleams. I heard the gate shut, and the 
 door closed with decision; and I was left to my long 
 journey with a wounded man, a tired horse, on a road 
 where very few stars relieved the darkness. 
 
64 RENSHAWE. 
 
 CHAPTEE YII. 
 
 CANEY FORK. 
 
 f IS AGREE AELE as were the features of the adven- 
 ture, they did not present themselves in full force 
 until I had accomplished the first mile of the 
 journey, -when they became painfully apparent. I was 
 virtually without protection. My sole companion was a 
 man prostrated by suffering, my only defence two pistols 
 that I could not use, and beside the darkness of the night 
 and loneliness of the road there was the danger of an 
 encounter with enemies, or, quite as imminent, though 
 scarcely less perilous, a breakdown. Uneasy and tremu- 
 lous, I endeavored to keep up my sinking courage by 
 asking Tomlin how he felt three times as often as neces- 
 sary, my inquiries being constantly answered in a pa- 
 tient, reassuring tone, as though theii' motive was fully 
 comprehended. 
 
 We had gone on thus for some time ; the night had 
 gTown so dark that I could no longer discern the ghastly 
 outline of Tomlin's face on the straw. A sudden fear 
 came upon me. If he should die on the jom-ney how un- 
 speakably awful would be my position ! Alone in the 
 woods with a corjose! Horrors! In desperate fear I 
 exclaimed, " Are you ahve, ^Ii'. Tomlin ?" 
 
 " Yes." Eeassured by the iaformation, and deriving 
 much hope from the tone in which it was given, I endeav- 
 ored to lead Tomlin into conversation. As a subject 
 likely to interest him, I introduced my expedition to 
 Eocky Cross, and detailed my search for my tnink. We 
 had just passed an opening made by a cart path in the 
 forest, and had proceeded on a stretch of gi'ound unusu- 
 ally level, when the mention of Colonel Hunter naturally 
 came in. 
 
BLUE HILLS. 
 
 65 
 
 "What !" exclaimed Tomlin, " Did you know the name 
 of any of the other officers, then ?" 
 " Only Captain Charles Berkley." 
 "Who said he was there?" 
 No one; I saw him myself." 
 " You know Captain Berkley ?" 
 « By sight. ' 
 "And a Mrs. Ryan came there," I added, " with a note 
 
 for Colonel Hunter." 
 ■ " A note ?" exclaimed my companion. 
 " Yes, I think she said fi'om you, if I heard the name 
 
 aright." 
 
 After a short silence Tomlin spoke agam, in a tone 
 
 much more feeble. 
 
 "Miss Renshawe, I find I cannot accompHsh this jour- 
 ney. You wiU be obliged to turn this conveyance around, 
 and go back to the cottage." 
 
 Astonished at this change of base, I demurred. Tom- 
 lin insisted. He was much worse, found the hills getting 
 yery bad, and really could not proceed. As we were 
 traveling over a very level surface, and as TomUn's voice 
 had grown feeble within a very few minutes, I found it 
 impossible to comply. 
 
 "You have taken too much pains to urge on me the 
 necessity of going, Mr. Tomlin," said I. " You find the 
 disciple worse than his master. Go back I cannot." 
 
 " \\niy, madam, you cannot proceed against my wishes! 
 I say we must go back." 
 " What's the alternative ?" 
 
 Communication ceased for some time after this ques- 
 tion In the course of a minute a stray horse came 
 wandering up the road-side. Tomlin's ear caught the 
 sound of extra hoofs, and he startled me by calling out, 
 loudly, "Hallo, fiiend, are you from Eocky Cross?" 
 "Oh, that's the alternative, is it?" said I, stopping 
 
66 RENSHAWE 
 
 short, while the animal scampered away. "That's well; 
 but as the next party may be a man, as well as a horse, 
 we must provide for it, ]Mr. Tomlin." 
 
 I got down, tm-ned Sunset about, and led him back to 
 the opening of the cart-i3ath in the thicket. Guiding the 
 wagon well under the boughs, I immediately proceeded 
 to unharness the horse. 
 
 "^\Tiat on earth are you doing. Miss Kenshawe?'* 
 asked Tomlin. I explained in a very few words. 
 
 " Not going to leave me here alone ?" he exclaimed. 
 
 "You have left me no choice," I replied, in a tone of 
 severity. " Once more, ^h\ Tomlin, will you go with me 
 toCaneyFork?" 
 
 " I cannot go with you. It's of no use to go now. That 
 Kyan woman has betrayed me, if you icill know the 
 truth." 
 
 " You might have said so before," I answered. A new 
 suspicion had come into my mind; that he feared not Airs. 
 EyaA, but me, learning my knowledge of so many names, 
 and so much countei-plotting. 
 
 That question was settled. The shafts fell, and Sunset 
 was free. 
 
 "I wish to heaven I had two legs to-night," muttered 
 TomHn, as I took the saddle from the vehicle. 
 
 " Thank you," said I, " but I do not need your sei-vices. 
 I was taught long ago to saddle a horse. I have had a 
 practical education." 
 
 " Oh, d d practical!" was the elegant rejoinder. 
 
 " If you must swear, "Mr. Tomlin," I continued, " you 
 might, at least, wait till I am out of hearing." 
 
 " I was not swearing at you," he repHed. 
 
 " I presume it was at the horse. I am going now, and 
 you need not suppose that I am at all deceived as to your 
 real character. I beheve you — firmly beheve you to be 
 a secessionist spy." 
 
BLUE HILLS. 67 
 
 No answer. I was already on Sunset, when a short 
 whistle from Tomlin brought the horse at once to the 
 side of the wagon; a low click at the same moment 
 revealed that a search for the pistols had been going on 
 in the straw, and was successful. , . ,, ■ l 
 
 "Good God!" I exclaimed, with a bound of the heart 
 that I did not soon recover from; " are you going to kill 
 
 """No'NrepUed he, coUectedly, "I was about to offer 
 yoTimypistols-you may need them before your jour- 
 
 ""^"Thrnk you; they would be useless; I never handled 
 one in my hfe. For a parting word, Mi'. Tomlin, I leave 
 you never expecting to see you agam ahve, and I re- 
 gret deeply that I hear no other language than that ot 
 oaths on the Ups of a dying man." 
 
 With this parting admonition, to which no response 
 was given, I rode on. I was stiff from my ride in the after- 
 noon a fact which I did not perceive until on the saddle. 
 If the concomitants of the journey before were far from 
 pleasant, they were still less so now, and my heart al- 
 most failed me when I turned the horse's head agam to 
 the ric^ht. It was no time for misgivings or heart-flutter- 
 ings, however, and the pressing consideration of physi- 
 cal pain was banished by the importance of my errand^ 
 Deteinnined that it should not be a tedious ride, I 
 ui-ed, or rather invited, my steed to proceed on a can- 
 ter The nights at that period of the year were short, 
 and I was well aware that three hours after midnight 
 would bring daybreak. I had so far remembered IVIrs 
 Judson's instructions and followed them imphcitly but I 
 was confused by a caprice of the road which I could not 
 determine was a lane. I took it, and after folio wrngm- 
 numerable windings, sometimes without the sign ot^ a 
 fence by the roadside, I found myself on a broad plam, 
 
68 EENSHAWE. 
 
 where the track grew more distinct at the intersection of 
 a crossroad. I took the crossroad, and about an hour after 
 sunrise reached the river side. 
 
 " Can you tell me what place this is ?" I asked of a 
 wretched looking woman who was raking a few sticks 
 together by the road. 
 
 " It's Caney Fork mill-pond," she repHed. 
 
 " And how near is the Tillage ?" 
 
 " About two miles, up north." 
 
 As I was about moving on, she added, " I wouldn't go 
 up through Caney Fork — troop of sojers there. Cum las' 
 night, and goin' off sometime this mornin' to Washington." 
 
 A minute direction was asked and given. Sunset did 
 not move at his original gait, and by the time I rode into 
 Caney Fork, no article of his appearance belied the fact 
 that he had traveled all night on a small supper. How- 
 ever Tomlin had obtained his information, it was cer- 
 tainly accurate. The troop was there, and they were 
 Union men. iMisgivings crowded upon. me. How could 
 they act without orders — moreover, if they were to go to 
 Washington, how could their departure be deferred ? 
 
 On my interview with the lieutenant colonel which 
 took place in the street I found these difficulties not ad- 
 vanced. The company commanded by Good and Gallorda 
 belonged to that regiment; as that company was captui'ed 
 and at Rocky Cross his only choice was to set them free. 
 In less than an hour, the regiment was under full march 
 toward Rocky Cross, and Sunset regaling himself with four 
 quarts of oats beneath the shade of a maple tree near the 
 principal hotel under his late rider's special superinten- 
 dence. 
 
 I waited nearly all day for intelligence from Rocky 
 Cross, agitated by every rumor that disturbed the village 
 where I was, and as apparently all the women in the 
 place had come out on the door stones and piazzas, these 
 
BLUE HILLS ^9 
 
 rumors were numerous enough. Late in the afternoon, 
 the Federal troops returned-they had been to Bocky 
 Cross, scattered aU Hunter's regiment without kiUmg ^^ 
 capturing anybody, and brought back Good GaUorda 
 and the whole company intact together, with no end of 
 baggage, that had been left behind. This baggage, ladea 
 onTeveral wagons, was hurriedly inspected. 
 
 I was just going off with Sunset when this came to 
 pass and my attention was attracted, by seeing a large 
 load of books among the plunder. On these I bestowed 
 close inspection, and before long discovered that they 
 Tvere Mr. Shaker's most valuable possessions. 
 
 This fact I made immediately known to the lieutenant 
 colonel, and it was at once enacted that those books 
 should go directly back to their owner under my auspices. 
 Knowing that it would be quite unsafe to leave them at 
 Caney Fork, I immediately hired two wagons to take 
 them back at once. Captain Good came up to thank me 
 for his recent dehverance, in a manner that seemed to 
 say, he would have preferred to remain with his captors 
 rather than be indebted to such an auxiliary. 
 
 « Much obliged to you, ma'am, or rather to your horse. 
 Methinks I've seen your face before— Shakspeare. You 
 have both done a most gaUant thing! Yours respect- 
 fuUy— Good." 
 
 It was nearly sunset before those wagons were loaded, 
 and the regiment with its recovered members on the 
 way to Washington. Much as I disliked remaining at 
 Caney Fork, I had no option between that and another 
 ride at night through the woods, and feeling scarcely 
 equal to that undertaking, I remained that night at the 
 cottage of an aged widow with whom I had scraped 
 acquaintance during the day ; I had directed the men 
 who drove away with the wagons to go to Tomhn's rescue ; 
 givino- them such precise instructions where he was to be 
 
70 RENSHAWE. 
 
 found, that I was sure they could not fail to discover 
 him. I sent to him a small basket with provisions and 
 a Httle bottle of brandy, as it was by no means probable 
 that he had had anything to eat duriQg a night and day, 
 alone in the woods. I sent also a message to Mr. Shaker, 
 requesting that Tomhn might remain under his roof, and 
 my mind was thus reheved of all its compunctions on his 
 account. 
 
 I was quite tired out with my recent exertions. The 
 previous day I had ridden from Blue Hills to Rocky 
 Cross and back again, a distance of nearly twenty miles ; 
 the previous night ten miles more on horseback ; for I 
 judged that it was about ten, I had journeyed in Tomlin's 
 company ; it was not surprising therefore that I had no 
 inchnation for further travel, and was content to post- 
 pone Blue Hills till morning. 
 
 Early in the morning, in fact at daybreak, I hastened 
 away fi'om Caney Fork, without experiencing the shghtest 
 regret, deferring my breakfast until I was back at Mr. 
 Shaker's. The millpond was passed speedily, and in the 
 course of two hours I reached Eocky Cross, where the 
 landmarks were soon recognizable. Just as I left the 
 viQage, I caught sight once more of the little cottage 
 with its dormer windows and wreaths of shiTibbery. The 
 little gate and stone paving were so famihar, that I was 
 by no means sui'prised when the picture was completed, 
 by the appearance of the same young lady whom I had 
 encountered on the previous day, or by a repetition of 
 the same question : 
 
 " Do you know where I can j&nd a saddle-horse ?" 
 
 " My goodness," I could not resist exclaiming, " haven't 
 you found a saddle horse yet ?" My interlocutrix, who at 
 first had not recognized me, by reason of the difference 
 m dress and accoutrements which I presented, looked 
 somewhat annoyed on the discovery and again retreated. 
 
BLUE HILLS. 71 
 
 My second encounter with this damsel, inspired me 
 with considerable interest : there was a certain grace and 
 style about her, which, in spite of the affectation conspicu- 
 ous in her manner, was by no means unpleasing. I was 
 sorry that I had answered with a familiarity that might 
 have caused surprise, wondered whether she thought I 
 might have offered her Sunset, and did not cease to 
 ponder the subject till I came in sight of Blue Hills. 
 
 CHAPTER VnX 
 
 t SCENE of 
 hour of the 
 
 confusion presented itself, at that 
 hour of the morning that I rode into the spa- 
 cious gateway of Mr. Shaker's lawn. A pile 
 which at a little distance was oi an indescribable shape, 
 and of an indistinguishable color, rose on the planks at 
 the back of the house, while the figures of Mr. Shaker, 
 Mrs. Judson, and Sally Bunn, ranged to and fro alter- 
 nately ; a fourth, which it was easy to recognize as 
 Singular Twist, remained half-way between, in a station- 
 ary position. 
 
 When I entered the yard I perceived the pile to consist 
 of Mr. Shaker's books and furniture, sent down by me 
 from Caney Fork. Mr. Shaker expressed his warm in- 
 debtedness to me in a manner that left no doubt of his 
 sincerity. As soon as I had an opportunity I put a 
 question to Mrs. Judson relating to Tomhn's weKare. 
 
 "Hain't seen nor heerd nawthin of him," said Mrs. 
 Judson in astonishment. 
 
 " Then I must institute a search," I said, "but first tell 
 Sally to get me some breakfast; I came from Caney Fork 
 fasting." 
 
72 RENSHAWE. 
 
 " Hain't none of us had breakfast," said Mrs. Judson, 
 " ben all the mornin' gettin in the books. Sing'lar had 
 his'n I reckon ; I seed him a cunjerin' about with toast 
 and hot water this mornin." 
 
 IVIrs. Judson led the way within the house and placed 
 the viands on the table. Twist followed meekly. 
 
 " TMien did the books come, Singular ?" I inquired. 
 
 "Bout middle o' the night," said Singular; "I heer'd 
 wheels a roUin' and looked out o' the winder and tole 'em 
 not to make no noise. I was feer d, if ]\Ir. Shaker'd 
 know'd it was the books, he'd a histed us all out o' bed 
 to go out there an* tote 'em all in. Lor' ! what a job — 
 wud a-tuk till mornin'." 
 
 " I heerd 'em bangin' to get in," said Mrs. Judson, 
 " and I shed a gone down, but you was a yawpin' to *em 
 out the winder, an' I expected you'd go down and let 'em 
 in every minit. Ef I'd a know'd it was the books, I shed 
 a-had all hands out to fetch 'em in I can tell you ; most 
 ruined them marble an' vellum kivers lyin' out all night 
 in the damp. Heerd you a tellin' 'em to dump 'em right 
 down back o' the house ; thort it must be a load o' stuns 
 they'd ben cartin'." 
 
 "Wal thar, needn't be shoutin' July. ]\Ii' Shaker's 
 clus by; needn't tell what I said to 'em." 
 
 " Sent 'em clar back to Caney Fork without anythin' 
 to eat ; oh you did, Sing'lar, you turned 'em off, and I 
 heerd 'em say suthin' about stayin' all night." 
 
 "Shar! that was only one man they wanted to 
 stay — did stay too — all night." 
 
 " Staid ! whar on airth — how did he get in ?" 
 
 " Didn't get in," said Singular, gi-owing more energetic 
 as he saw IMi\ Shaker retreating toward the beloved pile ; 
 " tole 'em to put him in the granary. He was hurt, that 
 ar' Tomlin that was round a few days ago." 
 
 "Sing'lar!" Mi*s. Judson's voice outdid itself — "you 
 
BLUE HILLS. 
 
 73 
 
 don't mean to say you cudn't git out o' bed to open the 
 door for a poor wounded dying man? You needn't try 
 to keep me still! Don't car ef Mr. Shaker does hear." 
 
 " Singular," I added, reproachfully, " you cannot mean, 
 I trust, for the sake of humanity, that you left him all 
 night alone in the granary ; he may be dead fi'om starva- 
 tion and suffering." 
 
 " Won't starve," said Singular, testily ; " I toted out a 
 big pitcher o' toast water to him this momin', in the 
 middle of all the worry over the books ; didn't know 
 'twas Tomlin till to-day, and didn't know anything ailed 
 him ; men said he wanted to stay aU night, an' I said, 
 stay in the granary. I'U go out agin now, ef you say so." 
 "No you needn't, Sing'lar,— wouldn't get there tiU 
 
 Christmas " I stopped IMrs. Judson at the door. 
 
 *' I'll go first, — which way is it ?" 
 
 The housekeeper pointed, and I followed her direction. 
 There was a rusty lock on the door, which had been 
 broken, probably by Tomlin's escort. The place was 
 nearly choked up with old barrels, and dim with cob- 
 webs; and the scamper that took place among the rats 
 on my entrance indicated that they had been flourish- 
 ing there for several generations. The bed consisted of 
 the same sheaf of straw, one or two ragged horse-blank- 
 ets, and the sheep-skins which had appertained to the 
 sawhorses and accompanied the commencement of the 
 adventurous expedition to Caney Fork. The pitcher of 
 toast-water stood by the bedside unmolested. Tomlin 
 was lying with his right arm bent back under his head 
 in Heu of a pillow, in which article the bed was deficient. 
 When he saw who had entered he turned his face sullenly 
 to the wall without speaking. 
 
 " How do you feel, ]\Ir. Tomlin?" I asked. 
 " Very miserable, thank you," he rephed. 
 Seeing that he was alive, and rather daunted to find 
 
74 RENSHAWE. 
 
 that his misery was attributed to me, I T\dthdrew from 
 the gTanary to appeal to Mr. Shaker, who was inspecting 
 the diminished pile through his spectacles. As soon as 
 I could disengage his attention from the condition of his 
 library I made my request. 
 
 " A room for a wounded man ! My dear child, how can 
 you ask such a question ? Certainly — the best room in 
 the house is at his disposal. Let JuHa get it ready, and 
 Singular must take care of him. I'm very busy now, so 
 I will arm you with carte blanche." 
 
 jSIrs. Judson only awaited this permission. "Go call 
 Sing'lar, SaUy," she shouted, "and then run up to my 
 room for intment and bandages. S'pose I can't get IMr. 
 Shaker to speak ef I ask for one of his shii-ts, so I'll 
 take it an' sa}^ nothin'. Come, Sing'lar, got to get Tom- 
 Im into the house, right off." 
 
 Singular groaned at the prospect, and by the time ^Irs. 
 Judson had called him seven times from the granary, I 
 saw him move towards that building. The transporta- 
 tion was effected by dint of her strenuous admonitions 
 all the way. She came down at last, wiping her face, and 
 after informing Mr. Shaker several times that breakfast 
 was ready, placed a chair for me at the table. 
 
 " Coffee's cold, rU heat it over," said she; "Mr. Sha- 
 ker won't eat or speak while the books is out thar. Dear, 
 I'd rather hev kerried Tomlin aU the way alone than hev 
 hollered so at Sing'lar. He wanted to set down every few 
 steps." 
 
 " Is Tomhn very ill, Mrs. Judson ?" 
 ""Wonerful weak. Sing'lar's a-washin' him now. 
 Took fifteen minutes on his face — don't know when he'll 
 get through. Guess I'U hev to ketch a chicken and make 
 some broth." 
 
 By a small bribe sent to Singular, thus matching his 
 avarice against his laziness, I found the former to over- 
 
BLUE HILLS. 75 
 
 come so far that he finished his attentions to the pa- 
 tient in something less than an hour. The housekeeper 
 and I, having finished breakfast, and seen the chicken- 
 broth' boihng on the fire, paid a visit to his apartment. I 
 ventured only to the sill, not wishing to obtrude my ob- 
 noxious visage. Mrs. Judson looked around on the 
 clean, white musHn curtains, broad fireplace, filled up by 
 two huge iron dogs, high ceiling wide oaken wainscot, 
 and the rough sketch of Moses in the bukushes, hanging 
 over the chimney;piece, with evident self-gratulation. 
 Her triumph was ill-concealed. 
 
 *• Guess you he\Ti't slept in such a magnificent place as 
 this 'ere in a good while, if you ever have," said she. 
 
 Tomlin's low-toned response I could not catch. Mrs. 
 Judson's reply was audible enough. 
 
 "No rats! Course there isn't!" said she. " S'pose 
 he's a-thinkin' of the granary. Wonder he wasn't eaten 
 aUve with 'em. Guess he ain't a-dyin' yet. Must be 
 hungry arter hevin' Sing'lar worryin' round. I'U fetch 
 somethin' up stairs." 
 
 Matters looked quite pacific, but the promise was de- 
 ceitful. Some time later, as I was mending Tomlin's 
 clothes, after Sally's washing, Mrs. Judson, with a look 
 of dismay, came down from his room. 
 
 " Can't do nothin' with that feller— ugly as Cain— got 
 awful mad at me this mornin'. He said he'd kill me. 
 He caught up the blue chany pitcher off the stand to 
 throw at me. Shan't kerry any more of those blue chany 
 pitchers up there." 
 
 " What was it all about?" I asked. 
 " Why, I was a-tryin', while he was asleep, to slip a 
 piller under his leg instead of the cushion, but he woke 
 up in the middle of it. Most infernal-lookin' eyes he's 
 got. Ben wide awake ever since. HoUers "take care 
 my leg,' as soon as I come in the room." 
 
76 EENSHAWE. 
 
 "When !Mr. Tomlin's gi-uel was made ready, I accompa- 
 nied ]Mrs. Judson to conduct the smaller tray. Her mode 
 of procedure was not remarkably unlike that of many 
 nurses in hospitals with whom I made acquaintance since. 
 
 "Now, then," she said, "here's youi' vittles ; if you 
 get mad now, shan't come nigh you agin'. Sing'lar can 
 kerry 'em up, an' Lord knows when you'll get 'em." She 
 seized upon a heavy d^l table which she rolled with a 
 tremendous noise to the bedside, jaiTing the windows, 
 and causing the bedstead to shake fi'om the casters to 
 the cushion on which Tomlin's injured limb reposed. 
 
 "Now look out for my leg!" he exclaimed. 
 
 " I wasn't within gun-shot of your leg," shouted !Mrs. 
 Judson; "I'll leave it to Miss Eenshawe. Can't be I 
 huii: his leg a-lookin' at it; can it ma'am ? Bed Hes on- 
 even. I'll fix it without stiiTin' yer leg, ef ye '11 keep 
 quiet." She pulled on the piUows, jerked on the bed- 
 clothes, and pushed up the feathers till Tomlin's gi'oans 
 obliged her to desist. Mrs. Judson offered the giniel, 
 propiDed up the patient's head, and was encouraged be- 
 yond measure when he swallowed a few spoonfuls. 
 
 " Now, then, Tomlin, ef ye'U jest let me shp this piller 
 tinder yer leg — won't stir it an inch — be so much easier 
 than that cushion." 
 
 "]Mrs. Judson, you're a fiend," said Tomlin; "there's 
 no disguising the matter; you're a fiend, sent here on pur- 
 pose to torment me. God help a man that's left to the 
 tender mercies of such women as I've encountered for 
 the last day or two. Why under the sun can't you let 
 me alone ?" 
 
 " "Well, thar, don't git so mad, Tomlin ; you're a spil- 
 Kn' the gi'uel all over the best double-chain coverlid. Poor 
 thanks we get, Miss Renshawe, arter all we've done for 
 that feller — says all the women he's seen for two days 
 is fiends." 
 
BLUE HIIXS. 77 
 
 I waited for some minutes after Mrs. Judson had gone 
 down, sauntering to the mantelpiece, and examining the 
 labels of the phials, with the view to invite a colloquy. 
 
 " Mrs. Judson and you do not seem to agree very 
 weU," I remarked, forced to speak first. 
 
 *" Walks across the floor so heavy," he rephed; " shakes 
 the whole house. " My nerves are unsettled, just now, 
 and a little matter distresses me extremely." 
 
 " If my presence would not be too intense an annoy- 
 ance," said I, "and you would permit me to carry your 
 food up stairs, and hand you your medicine, I should be 
 very happy to do so." 
 
 "I have not the least objection in the world, Miss 
 Kenshawe," replied Tomlin. " Surprised you should sup- 
 pose so." 
 
 This was quite amicable. As I was going out, Tomlin 
 spoke again: 
 
 "Do you know where my coat is ?" 
 
 "Somewhere below stairs. "Would you Hke to have 
 it?" 
 
 " Most particularly." 
 
 Glad to perform a service, though it was a small one, I 
 hastened up stairs with the coat. Tomhn abstracted a 
 large pocket-book full of papers, glanced it over, and 
 placed it under his pillow. 
 
 That evening, fearing lest I had been officious in my 
 offers, I remained below until tea-time. Mrs. Judson de- 
 scended as usual, looking severely annoyed. 
 
 " Ef I practice much more runnin' up an' down stairs 
 with dishes, I shall be fit for a hotel. Tomhn won't hev 
 me fetch up his tea, Miss Kenshawe; says he spected you'd 
 come." 
 
 On this notification I transported the tea things 
 directly up stairs. Tomlin was faint and feverish, indi- 
 cations that caused me no Httle alarm. 
 
78 RENSKiWE. 
 
 "I wish to say," said he, "that when I am ill I be- 
 come delirious very readily. I beg you wiU promise that 
 if my language threatens to reveal anything special you 
 will keep everybody out of the room. More than that, 
 you wiU take these papers from under my pillow and 
 keep them until I recover. If that desirable event 
 should not occur, you may examine the contents your- 
 self." 
 
 "Mr. Tomlin, I hope in some way to atone for my neg- 
 ligence toward you " 
 
 "Oh, ye — certainly — don't mention it. By remember- 
 ing my requests you will confer on me the greatest of 
 favors.' 
 
 That evening, after the various excitements of the day 
 were laid at rest, jVIi's. Judson held a short dialogue with 
 me in relation to IVIr. Shaker's latest guest. 
 
 "I've an idee, ]\Iiss Renshawe," she began, '"that that 
 ere Tomlin is a very genteel sort of a feUer." 
 
 Some such idea had already occurred to me. I inquired 
 the grounds of it. 
 
 "^Tiy, in the fust place, I believe he fairly despises 
 every soul in this house." 
 
 I did not look upon this as a particular proof of gen- 
 tihty, but with ^Ii's. Judson it went a great way. 
 
 " Despises us aU — maybe not you, IMiss Renshawe, though 
 he don't seem to Hke you much — but he acts, while we're 
 'round, as though he only stood us because he can't help 
 himself. That's a wonderful dingy-lookin' ring he wears 
 on his Httle finger. I asked him if I shouldn't scour it 
 up, an' he said no; an' I asked him whar he got it, an' 
 how much it cost, an' he said I bothered him to death. 
 Don't make any bones about speakin' when he's both- 
 ered." 
 
 About ten o'clock in the evening, when the doctor had 
 gone away, and Mrs. Judson had paid what I supposed 
 
BLUE HILLS. 79 
 
 her final visit to the sick-room, I asked her how TomUn 
 was. She shook her head. 
 
 " He's a pretty sick man — seemed a little flighty arter 
 wakin up — thort EHsha was here. Sing'lar's a-goin' to 
 stay thar to-night. Says he ken keep awake enough to 
 give him his medicine — doctor's left stuff for him every 
 three houi'S." 
 
 The next morning I learned from SaUy that Mrs. Jud- 
 son had been up all night herself, and in no Httle anxiety 
 awaited her appearance to learn the true state of affairs. 
 Mrs. Judson presented herself with the jaded look that 
 would naturally result from along day's work and a night's 
 vigil. She said on going to Tomlin's room about twelve 
 o'clock, she had found Singular nodding in his chair with 
 the newspaper aU on fire in his hands. He was sure he 
 had given the medicine punctually at eleven, but as Mrs. 
 Judson saw that the phials were full, and likely to stay 
 so, she sent Singular to bed and took his place for the 
 night. She reported Tomhn worse, and dispatched SaUy 
 for the doctor. 
 
 That gentleman pronounced Tomhn dangerously iU, 
 and left a drug to be administered every hour, ordered 
 perfect quiet in his room, and to effect that end forbade 
 everybody to enter with the exception of Singular Twist. 
 
 " Sing'lar's nicely fixed now," said Mrs. Judson to me 
 when the day had worn on, and nothing was heard from 
 the second story. " He's got the almanac and a paper of 
 tobaccy, and sets there by the window with nawthin' to 
 do." 
 
 " I wonder how Tomhn likes him ?" I remarked. 
 
 " Don't know. He says to me this mornin*, ' Isn't that 
 Sing'lar Twist rather a slow sort of a feller ?' Ain't but 
 
 jest found it out. 'Twas curris he hadn't. I tole him 
 
 ^^ " * 
 
 so. 
 
 Not daring to violate the doctor's express injunction, I 
 
80 RENSHAWE. 
 
 had wandered by the closed door of the sick-room sev- 
 eral times in the course of the day. Just before tea-time 
 I ventured in softly. Tomlin lay wide awake, and very 
 restless. 
 
 "You have not been near me all day," he said re- 
 proachfully. I promised to come after supper, and hav- 
 ing made sure that the papers had not been molested, I 
 went down. I had not gone in because I had feared to 
 wake him, for I supposed, fi-om a very audible snoring, 
 that he was asleep. 
 
 " Laws ! that was Sing'lar," said Sally, who was dodg- 
 ing about the kitchen when I made this supposition 
 known to ^Mrs. Judson. " When I kerried up the dishes 
 I hed to pound ever so long on the door afore 
 I cud make Sing'lar hear, to come and take 'em from 
 me." 
 
 " Wonder ef he ain't forgot to give them medicines ?" 
 exclaimed IVIrs. Judson, suddenly. " I'll go up and look 
 at the bottles; thet'll show." 
 
 The bottles were all satisfactory. Later in the eve- 
 ning ISIrs. Judson reported that Tomlin was very much 
 worse, and owned she had her suspicions of Singular, 
 who looked rather guilty; but as he declared that not a 
 di'op of the medicine had been spilled, there was nothing 
 for it but to send again for the doctor. 
 
 " It wiU not hurt him for me to go in, I suppose ?" 
 
 "Laws, no — he's as wild as a hawk — ^been a-singing 
 away everything you can think on — Portuguese Hymn 
 and Star Spangled Banner all mixed up." 
 
 Tomhn had a high fever, and was quite delirious. He 
 addressed ^Lrs. Judson as his mother, and me as his sis- 
 ter, fancied himself at sea, and talked in a disconnected 
 straia. Singular's face had assumed its meekest hue. 
 Mrs. Judson eyed him sharply. ♦ 
 
 "You might as well clear out," said she; "we've hed 
 
BLUE HILLS. 
 
 81 
 
 enougli o' your nussin' for one day. The doctor'll tell us 
 what ails Tomlin fast enough." 
 
 Singular withdrew, speechless. It was not long before 
 an ui-gent knocking at the front door announced the doc- 
 tor's return. Sally ran up, before admitting him, to tell 
 me hastily that I was wanted below. 
 
 Twist stood in the sitting-room with a rueful air of ex- 
 pectation. " Miss Eenshawe, think Tomhn will die ?" 
 
 " It's impossible to say. Singular." 
 
 " Think," Twist continued, his heart palpitating audi- 
 bly as the physician's step sounded in the hall, " that the 
 doctor ken tell, zactly an' sartainly, what ails him?" 
 
 "I believe he thinks it some sort of a fever." 
 
 " I know — ^but I mean ken he tell what's got hold on 
 him now ?" 
 
 "Probably so — I hope so." 
 
 Singular shivered ; he looked up at the stairs, then at 
 the door, as though dubious which way to go; then, after 
 clearing his throat several times, called to the doctor to 
 ask a minute's conference. This was soon termiaated. 
 The doctor looked a httle anxious at its close, and after 
 a very protracted call in the sick-room, came down to 
 leave his orders for the night. He was of opinion that 
 Twist, having been up all the night before, would not be 
 equal to the care of the patient again. 
 
 " Don't think he will," said Mrs. Judson sententiously, 
 " shall set up myself to-night." 
 
 The doctor left minute directions, provisos for spasms 
 and fainting fits, which had not been in his programme 
 origLQaUy. 
 
 Singular looked vastly relieved when the physician de- 
 parted. Mrs. Judson lost no time in quieting the house. 
 All were in their several rooms by eleven o'clock, and all 
 probably asleep. There was one exception. I was sad 
 and miserable enough under a new sensation. How 
 4* 
 
82 RENSHAWE. 
 
 much of Tomlin's illness was due to my negligence of him, 
 I could not determine. How strangely thoughtless I had 
 been not to take him back, and put him under some 
 proper shelter before proceeding to Caney Fork. Then 
 I should have nothing now with which to reproach my- 
 self. 
 
 I had been sitting a long time by the window — ever 
 since I came to my room, revolving the interest that 
 attached to a man who was a few days before a total 
 stranger, reproaching myseK keenly, and wondering 
 whether I could be happy again if he should die. It 
 grew late. There was no sound or sign fi'om his room, 
 and I softly descended. 
 
 A low fire was just dying away on the hearth. IMrs. 
 Judson lay back on three chairs fast asleep. The poor 
 woman was overcome with weariness. Toralin's head had 
 fallen off the pillow, and I saw that he was in a heavy 
 swoon. How long he had lain there it was imjDOSsible to 
 say. 
 
 A vigorous apphcation of cold water and brandy soon 
 brought him to himself. As I adjusted the pillow care- 
 fully under his head he opened his eyes. 
 
 " I think I must be very ill to-night," he said, faintly, 
 "are the papers safe ?" 
 
 "Under youi' pillow." 
 
 "Take them away and lock them up, if you please." 
 
 I removed the pocket-book and its contents to my 
 trunk. On my return he asked me to lift his head, and 
 on my compHance swooned again. It was a more diffi- 
 cult task this time to revive him, but it was at last effect- 
 ed. I trimmed the candle, replenished the fire, sj)read my 
 shawl over the weary woman, and sat down again by the 
 bedside. 
 
 "If I die," said Tomlin, so feebly that it was with dif- 
 ficulty I could catch the words, " I want you to go to my 
 
BLUE HILLS. 83 
 
 mother, and take her my love and this ring I have 
 on." 
 
 "Where does your mother Uve, and how am I to find 
 her, Mr. Tomlin?" 
 
 Silence ensued, and hoping that the query might bo 
 answered by the pocket-book, moreover too anxious that 
 there should be no necessity for consulting it, I did not 
 press the subject. Tomhn's face had grown ghastly un- 
 der the flickering flame of the candle ; his pulse was very 
 faint ; hands and feet were cold as ice. 
 "]Mi\ Tomlin!" 
 
 There was no reply, no recognition; the eye was fixed 
 and unconscious. Salts and brandy were exhausted, hot 
 flannels and warm blankets were applied to no purpose; 
 all stimulants failed. A swoon like this I had never seen 
 before. A sudden fear had fallen upon me. 
 
 "Mrs. Judson, for God's sake, wake up!" I roused her 
 unceremoniously. " Tomlin has fainted, and I cannot re- 
 cover him !" 
 
 Mrs. Judson was at once by the bedside. " No, you 
 won't recover him again, Miss Eenshawe. He's gone, 
 poor feller!" 
 
 " Not dead, Mrs. Judson !" 
 
 " Yes, been dead some time. Well, poor feller, I hope 
 he's in a better world. Sing'lar must get up now, and go 
 for the neighbors. Don't worry over him, Miss Een- 
 shawe, you've done all you could. I wouldn't stand over 
 him that way; you'll catch the fever." 
 
 She dragged herself away to call Singular. 
 Tears, scalding tears, fell on the pillow. Why? He 
 was nothing to me ; but dying alone among strangers, it 
 seemed unutterably sad. Dead ! Good Heavens ! what 
 remorse was tearing my heart ! what a recollection to 
 carry through life ! It could not be — that passing mo- 
 ment might be worth a miUion ! The thought made me 
 
84 KENSHAWE. 
 
 strong. I deluged arms, and hands, and chest with the 
 stimulating waters, and followed by severe and unremit- 
 ting Motion with the flannels. 
 
 "Needn't say nawthiu' about the coffin to-night Sing- 
 lar," said IVIrs. Judson outside the door." " I'll build up 
 the kitchen fire, and you see that you're back to help lay 
 him out by the time the water's hot." 
 
 " I'll build fire fust, July," said Singular affably, as he 
 went down. 
 
 " Laws, Miss Kenshawe ! it's no use a-rubbin' a dead 
 corpse! The breath's clean out of his body, and you 
 can't get it back. It's most one o'clock ; we'd better 
 shet up the room and go to bed." 
 
 There was no limit to my exertions. !Mi'S. Judson put 
 her hand on the white, reduced face, and tui-ned away 
 with a significant "humph !" Despair had nearly taken 
 possession of me, when I detected a faint tinge of red in 
 the colorless flesh, and a pulsation so sKght, that I hardly 
 dared to trust it. 
 
 " IMrs. Judson !" I cried, " his heart is beating ! — come 
 back — for heaven's sake let us save his hfe !" 
 
 Mi's. Judson was incredulous. " I'll shake his leg ; 
 that'll show fast enough." She gave a ruthless pull on 
 the cushion. Tomlin gasped faiutly and haK opened his 
 eyes. 
 
 " Lord, he is alive, as true as I'm a sinner ! — Sing'lar ! 
 Sing'lar ! fetch all the hartshorn — quick ! whar's the 
 camphor. Sing'lar, holler for SaUy and Mr. Shaker — all 
 hands aboard now." 
 
 The room was soon a scene of confusion. For a long 
 time, in spite of unremitting efforts, the balance seemed 
 wavering between life and death. 
 
 " Oh, he is certainly reviving," said !Mr. Shaker, in ans- 
 wer to my tremulous question. " He opens his eyes you 
 see, and has quite a color. How do you feel now, my boy ?" 
 
BLUE HILLS. 
 
 85 
 
 "Fell amidships," murnnired Tomlin. 
 
 "Well, you ain't dead yet, if you did," said Mrs. Jud- 
 son; "to-morrow you'll be all alive, and cross as thun- 
 der.'' 
 
 "SheU I set up here the rest o' the night?" asked 
 
 Singular feebly. 
 
 "No, you jest git to bed," replied the housekeeper, 
 "you've most killed the man, an' ain't satisfied now." 
 
 " JuHa, JuHa," said IVIr. Shaker gently, "it is not kind 
 to speak so ; Singular has been attending here aU day, 
 remember. If my own strength would permit, I would 
 stay here to-night,— and you, my dear Louisa, look very 
 much in need of rest." 
 
 "I am quite strong," said I, "and whoever ^ stays, I 
 shall not dare to leave this room again to-night." 
 
 "Well, my child," said Mr. Shaker approvingly, "I 
 leave the man in good hands, certainly. My room is 
 across the hall, and should you need help, you can caU 
 me. I would not like to have Singular disturbed agam." 
 
 All withdrew but Mrs. Judson, who remained to confide 
 the indignation aroused by this late charge. "Never in 
 my Hfe," said she, "did I see a man so wizened as Mr. 
 Shaker is by Sing'lar. Ef Sing'lar says black is white, 
 IVIr. Shaker swaUers it whole. 'Tendin' here aU day! 
 Shed think he had! I'll hev' that business clared up to- 
 
 morrow " 
 
 With this declaration the housekeeper gathered up her 
 shawl and withdrew. 
 
 AU that I had undergone that night in anticipation of 
 Tomhn's death, was painfuUy present to my mind. The 
 experience of the last few hours had done the work of a 
 year. To be sure that that man would hve, I could have 
 been equal to anything — could have confronted any 
 danger. I hardly knew myself. With only one thought, 
 one prayer, that he might recover, I shielded the hght 
 
86 KENSHAWR 
 
 from his half-opened eyes, and motionless as the death I 
 dreaded, with every nerve suspended, watched over the 
 unconscious soul till the gray dawn came again over the 
 hills. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 'NEEGETICALLY did Mrs. Judson assail the 
 doctor, to know what it could be that wrought 
 such a chajige in Tomlin's condition the evening 
 before. That gentleman was non-committal. In spite of 
 all her manoemTes, surmises and innuendoes, nothing 
 could be extracted beyond the satisfactory information, 
 that the patient was better. 
 
 The doctor did not manifest the same reticence toward 
 me, but, while weighing some drugs at the table, informed 
 me that Singular had forgotten to give any medicine 
 throughout the day, and, thinking to repair the damage, 
 had administered, just at evening, twelve table-spoon- 
 fuls of one dose, and half a dozen of another, not to 
 speak of six pills, all at once. He had not told the doc- 
 tor through any compunctions on Tomlin's account ; but, 
 fearing that the physician would see thi'ough his clumsi- 
 ness, had entreated him to keep the matter from IVIrs. 
 Judson's knowledge. 
 
 I was vastly reheved, and in view of my late distress 
 was less severe on the real culprit than I might have been. 
 
 " And how is the patient ?" 
 
 "Mind's a Httle disordered yet; but to-day will de- 
 cide. Well,"— walking up to Tomlin— "how do you feel, 
 young gentleman ? Is your room comfortable ? " 
 
 " So many bii'ds here ; they are flying all over every- 
 thing — annoy me terribly." 
 
BLUE HILLS. 
 
 87 
 
 The doctor struck at the imaginary plumes with his 
 handkerchief. Tomlin laughed quietly. 
 
 "Ha! ha! you don't suppose they'U let you catch them, 
 do you ? They're not such fools. I haven't seen you be- 
 fore. Are you the boatswain ?" 
 
 "Doing finely," said the doctor to me. "I'll look in 
 again this evening. Good morning." 
 
 That day but little progress was visible. The next 
 morning IVIrs. Judson woke me at breakfast time, with 
 good news. Tomhn was so much better— had been con- 
 versing with her as rationally as anybody could. She 
 had carried up several pieces of the beloved blue china 
 with his breakfast, pitcher included, and had been enter- 
 taining him with its whole history, from the time it had 
 first come into the late Mrs. Shaker's possession. 
 
 Immediately after breakfast I saUied up to Mr. Tom- 
 lin's room. The report was verified. He was a httle 
 restless ; but his eye was clear and calm. 
 
 "Judson says I died last Sunday night," he remarked, 
 on seeing who had entered; "I suppose it's true, as you 
 have spirited away my pocket-book." 
 
 I announced the safety of the pocket-book, promised to 
 restore it, and stated that the contents were untouched, in 
 spite of his supposed decease. Tomlin waited with the 
 utmost impatience till I had finished speaking, and called 
 at the top of his voice for Mrs. Judson. She ran in 
 directly. 
 
 " Madam, where's my boot ?" 
 
 " Yer boot ? sets thar by the fireplace." 
 
 " No, no ; the other— the one that was on my lame 
 
 leg?" 
 
 "S'pose it's lyin' among the sheep-skins m the 
 
 granary." 
 
 "For heaven's sake, get it as quick as you can, and 
 bring it right up stairs." 
 
88 RENSHAT^T]. 
 
 Mr. Judson sped away. Tomlin betrayed some excite- 
 ment as her stay was protracted. 
 
 "She can't find it. Miss Renshawe. Just open that 
 window and see what she's doing." 
 
 The housekeeper returned panting with the boot. 
 
 " What on earth," he demanded, " made you so long ?'* 
 
 " Only just staid long enough to turn round." 
 
 " And how long did it take to do that ?" 
 
 "Takes some folks longer than others. Now ef 
 Sing'lar " 
 
 " Well, never mind " — Mrs. Judson was just depositing 
 the boot by its fellow at the fireplace — " give it to me." 
 
 " Ain't a goin' to put it on ?" 
 
 "No ; but I want it." 
 
 Tomhn caught the article in question from the house- 
 keeper's hand, and deposited it under the farther pillow. 
 
 " Head ain't faii'ly settled yet," said Mrs. Judson, in an 
 undertone to me. " Tomlen, I'm a goin' down stars now, 
 long o' [Miss Renshawe. Let's see, yer leg wants to be 
 propped up a httle. I'll put the small bag of hen's-feath- 
 ers under it." 
 
 Tomlin waited patiently till she had executed the 
 movement, when he immediately reached over to the little 
 stand and possessed himself of the piece of china-ware 
 regarded by the housekeeper with special veneration. 
 
 "Now, Mrs. Judson, the next time you meddle with 
 my leg, or anything that's over it or under it, this pitcher 
 takes a sommersault into the fireplace." 
 
 " Oh, Tomlen, take car' ; j>Ir. Shaker's blue chany ! 
 Thar, I won't, shan't look at yer leg ag'in. Now, then, 
 that's a good feller, hand the pitcher to me, an' I'll kerry 
 it down with the rest." 
 
 "I'll take cai-e of the pitcher to-day," said Tomlin, 
 resolutely, as he placed the pitcher beside the boot. 
 " There's my property along with my pistol." 
 
BLUE HHiTiS. 89 
 
 " WeU, what shell I teU folks you've got here ; a crock- 
 ery store, or a leather consarn ?" muttered Mi'S. Judson, 
 and seeing no way of reclaiming the pitcher she aban- 
 doned the design for the present. 
 
 That day, in expressing his pleasure at the settled state 
 of the neighborhood, ]VIi\ Shaker announced that he had 
 received a note from his niece, Miss Edith Launey, and 
 submitted it to my inspection. It was written in a delicate, 
 graceful hand, many words were emphasized, there were 
 several quotations, a postscript, and an N. B. The sub- 
 stance of the letter went to show that Miss Launey's sick 
 relative at Bocky Cross was better, and that if Uncle 
 Shaker would send the carriage for her, she would be 
 happy to make her next visit to him in the afternoon of 
 the following day. 
 
 I was quite dehghted at this prospect. With a con- 
 genial young lady, and, of course, in some points Miss 
 Launey must be congenial, my own enjoyment would be 
 greatly heightened. Anxiously did I await the next 
 afternoon. 
 
 Early in the morning I found Mr. Tomhn in a great 
 state of mind. He was very desirous to be shaved, and 
 wanted Sally to go for a barber. 
 
 "Won't Singular do?" I inquired; "I thought he 
 shaved you a day or two ago." 
 
 "I don't want him to shave me again. He was three 
 hours about it." 
 
 "Perhaps Mr. Shaker would undertake it," I sug- 
 gested. 
 
 "He did undertake it last night; very kind of him, but 
 when he had cut my face in six places, I thought I pre- 
 ferred the barber." 
 
 As there was no such commodity in Blue HiUs, I had 
 thought no more about the matter. Consequently, on 
 coming in some hours after, to inquire after his health, I 
 
90 KENSHAWE. 
 
 was much surprised on finding Tomlin propped up with 
 a miri'or against a chair in front of him, in the full glory 
 of razor, soap, hot water, and other apparatus. 
 
 " Are you trying to kill yourself ?" I exclaimed. 
 
 " Trying to shave myself. Judson says there's a young 
 lady coming here to-day." 
 
 " But you are not to see her, Mr. Tomlin. No stranger 
 will be allowed in this room. You could not bear the 
 excitement." 
 
 " And Singular Twist says there's an old crutch some- 
 wheres around. I must trouble you to look it up for 
 me. I expect to be down stairs to-morrow, if not 
 to-day." 
 
 " People never get well in this way, Mr. Tomlin," said 
 I ; " they begin by sitting up a little longer every day." 
 
 "Very well — I'm beginning to-day." 
 
 I relieved my mind by a consultation with Mrs. Judson. 
 She shook her head on my information. 
 
 " He needn't be shavin' hisself on her account," sha 
 said ; "IMiss Launey ain't the girl to take to Tomlin." 
 
 " What sort of a girl is ]Miss Launey ?" I asked. 
 
 " Oh, she's curis — wonderful notional and partickelar. 
 Now you know how clean I keep everything out here in 
 this back settin'-room ?" I acknowledged the superiority 
 of the apartment, in the quality second to godliness. 
 " "Well, she wouldn't come in here without lookin' up to 
 the wall to see ef cobwebs wus goin' to fall ; she would 
 not set on one of these cheers without seein' me dust it 
 off fust, and she wouldn't go through that back door 
 without gatherin' in her dress aU round her feet. She's 
 been all over with her aunts, traveled everywhar most — 
 plenty of gentlemen she could hev married since she was 
 eighteen year-old. Wust thing about her is her airs — 
 she has got the greatest sight of airs ; yet they all seem 
 natural to her when you've known he a while." 
 
BLUE HELLS. 91 
 
 " Is she pretty ?" I inquired. 
 
 *'Laws, no ; nothing like so good lookin* as Tomlen. 
 He's got a wonderful pleasant face, only keeps a kind of 
 thunder-cloud look for times when he's mad or thinks 
 I'm goin' to tech his leg. He'll never like Miss Edith in 
 this world ; more dashy sort of a girl would suit him, 
 an' she won't look at him the second time I know." 
 
 After this assertion of superior knowledge, Mrs. Judson, 
 with many a sigh, nerved herself to the task of preparing 
 a room for Miss Launey. She and SaUy labored all that 
 afternoon in washing, scrubbing, and scouring beyond 
 measure. The housekeeper granted that the room was 
 clean enough before, for ordinary guests, but Miss Edith 
 always made a proviso that her apartment should go 
 through a regular scarifying on the day of her arrival. 
 This process was diversified by one battle between Mrs. 
 Judson and Tomlin, which reached my ears below in the 
 sitting-room. It was soon adjusted, however, for I heard 
 her bargaining for the pitcher again at its close. 
 
 " Mrs. Judson, what makes you say * chany ;' why don't 
 you pronounce your words right. Say china, can't you ?" 
 
 " Well, chany ; there, now." 
 
 "China!" 
 
 " Chiney." 
 
 " No, no ; china. Say blue china pitcher and you can 
 have it." 
 
 I looked out anxiously for Miss Launey's arrival, and 
 at sunset, when I went up stairs to dress for tea, there 
 was still no sign of Singular and his charge. Mrs. Jud- 
 son came up with a pitcher of warm water, and presented 
 it with a broad grin. The cause, as usual, was TomHn. 
 
 " "What were you and he storming about to-day ?" I 
 inquired. 
 
 " Why, fust of all, he wanted his moustaches cut, an' I 
 s'posed he wanted 'em took orf, so I hacked right in, an' 
 
92 KENSHAWE. 
 
 he said I spiled 'em. Next thing he wanted was the sec- 
 ond volume of that ar book he's been a-readin' — Count- 
 ess Ider, and when I was a-fetchin' it out o' Mr. Shaker's 
 steddy, I let it fall right into Sally's pailo' soap-suds. He 
 did storm away over that like a mad hoss ! Didn't ven- 
 ter to say much to him while he's got the blue chany clus 
 to his head," 
 
 " And this evening?" 
 
 " Oh — ^jes now ? "^Tiat I'm larfin' 'bout, you mean ? 
 "Why, I fetched him some photygi-aphs to look at while 
 the book was a-dryin; and thar was a hkeness among 
 em of the angel Gabriel. He's been studyin' it an hour, 
 an' asked me if it was i\Iiss Launey's. Laws! laws! 
 what vrill he say when he sees her ?" 
 
 CHAPTEK X. 
 
 /^ 
 
 jISS LAUNEY had come. From my window I 
 was her walking up from the gate, noted that 
 she wore a black alpaca dress, which trailed con- 
 siderably, a dark shawl hanging from her shoulders, and 
 a small round hat such as were in favor at that time; but 
 her blue veil was drawn too closely about her face to en- 
 able me to pronounce judgment on anything beyond a 
 very graceful walk and pretty figure. Singula r unloaded 
 quite a cargo of trunks at the gate, and Mrs. Judson and 
 Sally Bunn were soon toiling up the walk with those 
 commodities until they were deposited, to the number of 
 six, in the hall. 
 
 jMr. Shaker's niece and I were duly introduced at the 
 table. The first glance we exchanged had, however, 
 been one of recognition. A demure smile lingered 
 around Miss Launey's lips, and before many minutes had 
 
BLUE HILLS. 93 
 
 passed she asked, with an arch look at me, " Uncle Sha- 
 ker, do you know where I can find a saddle-horse ?" 
 
 "You can ride Gusty, my dear," said Mr. Shaker, be- 
 nignly; "only be careful not to get on a trot, for he is 
 spavined, and whenever you meet carriages and carts, 
 turn way out on the side of the road." 
 
 " Oh, my dear Uncle Shaker, I should die on such a 
 horse as that !" Turn out for carriages, and not ride on 
 a trot!" 
 
 " Certainly, dear. Don't you always turn out for car- 
 riages ? and a trot is very ungraceful for a lady." 
 
 " Thar's Sunset," quoth Mrs. Judson, who was busily 
 pouring the tea. "TomHn won't mind Miss Edith's 
 riding him." 
 
 " "Who ?" demanded Miss Launey. A lengthy explana- 
 tion ensued. The young lady shook her head dubiously' 
 " Some wandering man — no, I won't take his horse." 
 
 " Sho !" said Mrs. Judson to me when IVIiss Launey and 
 her uncle had gone up to the latter's study to discourse 
 on some family matters. "Jest wait till she sees him. 
 She hesn't had a beau for two months; been a-visitin, 
 'mong her old maid aunts — tell you she'll think he's aston- 
 ishin'. Wanderin' man ! Well, well, we shall see." 
 
 The next morning Miss Launey occupied in unloading 
 the six trunks, and as she accepted some assistance from 
 me our acquaintance progi'essed quite rapidly. She was 
 not handsome, but her face could not be called wholly 
 uninteresting. Arching eyebrows and a short upper lip 
 did not add to her amiability. The eyes were very dark, 
 and in some hghts black; but the smile was one of the 
 whole face, and though it revealed very irregular teeth, 
 was quite enchanting. Her manners exhibited so many 
 different affectations that it was difficult to say which was 
 most ridiculous. 
 
 Tomlin had essayed below in the course of the mom- 
 
94 RENSHAWE. 
 
 ing; but finding that the effort had set his wound bleed- 
 ing, he had contented himself with the perusal of the 
 Countess Ida in the solitude of his own room for the 
 day. At tea Miss Launey did not appear, and though 
 neither her uncle nor the housekeeper wondered at the 
 delay, I went up to see what had detained her. 
 
 " My dear Miss Kenshawe, I can't possibly di-ess under 
 two hours," she said in reply to my appeal through the 
 door. " Mrs. Judson should not require to be told that. 
 Instruct her to prepare the evening repast at eight pre- 
 cisely." 
 
 I retreated precipitately, not without some wonder as 
 to where she had been brought up. This information 
 was supplied gratis. IMiss Launey talked all the evening 
 about the " Young Ladies' Collegiate Seminary," where 
 she had been for some time a pupiL She had recently 
 paid a visit to that flourishing institution, and her dis- 
 coui'se relating thereto was all in a eulogistic strain. !Miss 
 Launey owned that Bloomerism had crept in lately, a 
 feature which she could not regard without horror and 
 disgust, though her attachment to the Seminary was as 
 strong as ever. 
 
 The next afternoon as the family were gathered in IMrs. 
 Judson's pride, the back sitting-room — the housekeeper 
 and I engaged in sewing, !Mi\ Shaker discoursing with 
 Singular of Gusty's prosperity, and !Miss Launey read- 
 ing at the window with her head supported against a 
 broad white hand which I had ah*eady learned she re- 
 garded with much mortification, a clatter on the stair- 
 case startled Singular into exclaiming, "Tomlen's a-com- 
 ing!" and that individual, shaven and shorn, in aU the 
 glory of a new plaid flannel shirt and black trousers, 
 hobbled into the room on a crutch which Singular had 
 fished out of the recesses of the granary. Everybody, 
 with one exception, was instant and ardent in attention. 
 
BLUE HILLS. 95 
 
 Mr. Tomlin was assisted to a seat by the dresser — ^pil- 
 lows, cushions, and footstools were supplied, windows 
 were closed, and drafts regulated till he declared he 
 should be killed with kindness. Edith watched the per- 
 formance with astonished gaze till the company was set- 
 tled, and as soon as Tomlin was fairly established with 
 his crutch in the corner, his large dark eyes turned on 
 IVIiss Launey's face. 
 
 " Disappointed," I thought on seeing that he looked 
 indifferently away. I introduced them, perceiving that 
 no one else was going to perform the ceremony. Miss 
 Launey's bow was as distant as it could be to merit the 
 name of a courtesy at all. 
 
 " Thar !" exclaimed Mrs. Judson, who had immediately 
 flown up stairs when the convalescent was settled, " I've 
 got the blue chany. Miss Renshawe, without goin' through 
 any college talk either," and she snapped the key on the 
 principal closet with emphasis. 
 
 Mr. Shaker entered into a conversation with his guest 
 which soon engrossed the attention of both gentlemen, 
 and monopolized them all the afternoon. As the subjects 
 were chiefly scientific, the female portion of the company 
 could only listen and admire, without assuming to com- 
 prehend a sentence. 
 
 "Tomlin, ken I hev your hoss?" asked Singular, pre- 
 senting himself about tea-time at the door. " Want 
 to turn in the cows, an' Gusty 's a little lame." 
 
 " Don't let him hev the hoss, Tomlin," exclaimed Mrs. 
 Judson. 
 
 " I really have not the least objection," rejoined Tom- 
 lin. Singular withdrew, and on the subject of the horse 
 IMrs. Judson held forth all tea-time. " Laziest feller in 
 the hull univarse, Tomhn. Jest wants the hoss to ride 
 down to the corner, an' to the foot o' the hill a-drivin' the 
 cows. 'Tain't mor'n a stone's throw." 
 
96 EENSHAWE. 
 
 "I should think," remarked Tomlin, "it would be 
 some trouble for him to get off and take down the bars." 
 
 "S'pect he gi'oans every bar," replied the house- 
 keeper. 
 
 " Don't get off," said Sally, who was waiting on table 
 with more assiduity than dexterity. " He sets on the hoss 
 an' jumps the cattle over the bars." 
 
 "Lord! jumps the cattle — bars — ^whar is Mr. Shaker? 
 SiQg'lar — Sin'o'l-vr !" The housekeeper upset the teapot, 
 to ]\Iiss Launey's extreme agitation, and vanished through 
 the door. 
 
 "Now, then, Sally, you see what mischief you've 
 made," said Tomlili. 
 
 "Dear me, Sally, bring a towel, quick," cried Miss 
 Launey. " Oh, shocking; and a clean tablecloth!" 
 
 When the excitement produced by Sally's revelation 
 had subsided, which it did not under some time, and 
 Tomlin had gone to his room, while Singular was endeav- 
 oring to convince Mrs. Judson that the bars were low and 
 the cattle agile, I asked iVIiss Launey her opinion of Tom- 
 lin. 
 
 " His personal appearance is very splendid," she re- 
 pHed, "but he does not seem to be used to ladies' society; 
 his manners are rather too brusque to suit me." 
 
 Far different was IsLr. Shaker's valuation. 
 
 " A very sensible, highly intelligent young man," he 
 said, decisively; "modest, too; not the least boasting or 
 swagger about him. I was only afraid he would stay 
 down too late and injui'e himself." 
 
 This favorable opinion went a great ways with Miss 
 Launey, though she informed me that Uncle Shaker was 
 an unsuspicious man, and his opinions were by no means 
 rehable. 
 
 She did not appear at breakfast, and the table awaited 
 her for two hours, a state of affairs which Mrs. Judson 
 
BLUE HILLS. 97 
 
 pronounced quite usual to Miss Launey's visits. Tomlin 
 was on the settle reading when she appeared, responded 
 to her cool " Good morning," and turned back to his 
 book. After a meal which was taken in a very mincing 
 style, all the fingers not employed in touching toast or 
 teaspoon standing off as far as possible, and consider- 
 able rubbing and wiping of dishes with an extra napkin. 
 Miss Launey summoned Sally, bade her " convey away 
 the service," and establishing herself at the window, 
 took a book from my work-table. It was the " Commis- 
 sioner." * 
 
 " G. L. Berkley!" exclaimed Miss Launey; " What does 
 it mean?" 
 
 I explained to Miss Launey that the book she held was 
 mine — had formerly belonged to the owner of the name 
 on the cover. 
 
 " Dear me ! you know him, Miss Renshawe, personally ? 
 Ultimately?" 
 
 "Not intimately at all." 
 
 " Then, as he is no intimate of yours, allow me to say 
 that Mr. George Berkley is the greatest villain that I ever 
 knew!" 
 
 " Why !" I exclaimed, " do you know him, Miss Launey?" 
 
 " No — at least I have seen him. I never as^Dired to that* 
 cii'cle of society in which he is supposed to move. It 
 may be the most fashionable, but it is certainly not 
 the best. My prejudice against Mr. Berkley originates 
 in his treatment of one of the loveHest girls I ever 
 knew." Edith launched forth into the history of Miss 
 Brandegee's hopeless engagement. " Her wedding clothes 
 were bought, when Mr. Berkley, in the most dastardly 
 manner, forsook her." 
 
 I was immediately roused to Berkley's defence, and in 
 
 5 
 
 • By G. P. K. James. 
 
98 KENSHAWE. 
 
 my hands it soon grew warm. !\L*ss Launey listened 
 courteously. 
 
 "Well, he's a splendid handsome fellow," she remarked; 
 "I don't wonder at all you defend him; but I must really 
 insist on my claims for Miss Brandegee. I knew her in 
 her educational days." 
 
 " What ? at the Young Ladies' Collegiate Bloomer ?" 
 
 " Oh, no ; in New York. She was not among my com- 
 peers at the boarding school. It was after I had gi-ad- 
 uated. I merely went there to take lessons on the guitar." 
 
 Quite a spirited discussion ensued. In Berkley's be- 
 haK my defence grew violent. Tomlin watched the com- 
 batants with an air of amusement for some time, and, 
 finding the point in no way of being settled, Miss Laumey 
 abandoned it. 
 
 " I am very little acquainted with the antecedents of 
 IVIr. Berkley's family," she remarked ; " I have been told 
 that they are of low extraction." 
 
 "Lor sakes!" said Mrs. Judson, who was busily engaged 
 in dusting the shelves of the closet, sacred to the custody 
 of the blue china tea-set; "I kin tell you who they are 
 and all about 'em. I know'd the old feller of all." 
 
 ""WTiat old fellow do you mean?" asked Miss Launey. 
 
 " Whj, old Jeff Berkley, they used to call him — wasn't 
 mor'n twenty-five years old, to be sure." 
 
 " You must understand, IVIiss Launey," remarked Tom- 
 lin, " the adjective old is used in two senses, one relating 
 to age, and the other to character." 
 
 Edith took no notice of this interposition, and jVIrs. 
 Judson continued : 
 
 "Used to be down round our village, huntin' round 
 thar' ; had twenty different kinds of coats, and wore 
 white vests and slippers, and white stocekns. AHus cum 
 to church late, and kep' a smiHu' up at the choir, an' 
 alius two or three dogs follerin' him in, an' a gret time 
 tumin' em out. Used to get diamk reg'lar three times a 
 
BLUE HILLS. 
 
 99 
 
 week. Wall, all the gals thar thort the world of him, 
 riinnin' after him aU the while. Never was so beat in my 
 Hfe, arter all the talk thar wus about this 'ere gentle- 
 man Miss Brandepe was engaged to, as to find out he 
 wus old Jeff Berkley's son." 
 
 "You are mistaken," said Edith; "he is General Berk- 
 ley's son." 
 
 " Sartin, ole Jeff Berkley got to be a jineral. Oh, I 
 know, for yer aunt Launey had her boardin' house only 
 three'doors off fi'om 'em, in New York, and we aU run to 
 the winder to see Miss Brandegee comin' along the side- 
 walk. She was so pretty, an' alius dressed so handsome 
 an' fashionable ; an just afore our basement this 'ere 
 young Berkley met her an' stopped to speak to her, an' 
 they stood thar talken a full minute, an' I had a good 
 look at him ; I knowd him for ole Jeff's son as soon as I 
 sot eyes on him ; and I reckon he patterned a good deal 
 after his father, for they say he gambled away his grand- 
 father's fortin, an' was marryin' her to git another." 
 
 "I suppose you know that the gentleman we have been 
 discoursing of, is in the rebel army?" said :Miss Launey. 
 The information did not surprise me, and I was gi'atified 
 to feel that it did not materiaUy affect my spirits, or dweU 
 in my memory. 
 
 Mrs. Judson regretted that she had no way of knowing 
 the time. The discussion of the Berkleys had ended, and 
 Tomlin laid down the Countess Ida, and looked up wide 
 awake at the question: 
 
 "You've got two clocks here, why don't you keep them 
 running ?" 
 
 "Kunnin'? how can I? Never did mortal woman hev 
 sech trouble with clocks. This 'ere settin'-room clock 
 Sing'lar spiled a-kerryin' up to his room. He got it up 
 the fust par of stars an' sot it down, an' there it sot three 
 weeks on the landin' place, an' finaUy SaUy came along 
 
100 KENSHAWE 
 
 in the dark an' knocked it over an' broke off the hands. 
 Then thar's the hall clock's been stopped two years afore 
 Sing'lar come here." 
 
 ""^Aliy don't you have it mended?" 
 
 " Hev undertook it. Kerried one clock to Caney Fork 
 myself, an' comin' back, Sam Garniss's hoss run away an* 
 dashed it out an' broke it all to shivers. An' about a month 
 ago, an ole feller came along with a bag of tools, an' un- 
 dertook to mend the one Sally broke, though I laid it to 
 Sing'lar more than Sally, an' I gave him harf a dollar to 
 fix it, an' he promised me it would nin a year, an' afore 
 he'd been gone a harf an hour it stopped agia as dead as 
 ever." 
 
 "^Miat did Singular do for a Hving before he came 
 here ?" inquii'ed Tomlin. 
 
 " Don't know ; sot in the house. Now, Tomlen, you 
 needn't go to takia' down that clock; you'll make wuss 
 work than that ole feller did, an' then we shall hev to get 
 a new one." 
 
 "You'll get a new one, won't you, if this is not 
 
 touched?" 
 
 Mrs. Judsoii eyed him uneasily, protesting he would 
 " spile the clock " for good and all. 
 
 In the course of an hour, the clock was replaced on the 
 shelf, ticking methodically, and though ^Ii's. Judson at 
 first proj^hesied it " wouldn't last," I noticed that before 
 long she mentioned the hall clock reflectively : " S'pose 
 you couldn't mend sech a big consarn as that is ?" 
 
 But as Mr. Shaker had given Tomlin a problem, he 
 was too busy to attend to any more clocks that day, ad- 
 vising IVIrs. Judson to wait and see whether the little one 
 "ran till to morrow." 
 
 " Oh, it will. I know it will. It ticks so nateral." 
 
 I noticed duiing the day that Edith frequently strolled 
 down to the gate to speak to the passers by, and en- 
 
BLUE HELLS. 101 
 
 grossed as Tomlin was over a set of compasses and Mr. 
 Shaker's drawing-board, his attention was given to the 
 same cii'cumstance. 
 
 " Is that 3'oun^ ladj engaged in sending news about 
 the country," he said, " that she makes for the gate when 
 ever a wheel rattles ?" 
 
 "I presume," I rephed, "that she is inquiring about a 
 saddle-horse, as she chiefly accosts the passers on horse 
 back." 
 
 At the table everybody seemed disposed for conversa- 
 tion. I began by asking Tomlin how he hked the Count- 
 ess Ida. Tomlin expressed his opinion that it was a very 
 interesting production. 
 
 " How did you hke Claude ?" Mr. Shaker inquired with 
 interest. 
 
 " A very noble character," rejoined Tomlin. 
 
 "I am glad to hear you say so," rephed our host en- 
 thusiastically. " Claude is a pattern, and though duehng 
 and imprisonment for debt are happily obsolete customs, 
 I still wish that book might be in the hands of every 
 young man whose character is forming. Moreover, capi- 
 tal punishment still exists, and one episode in that work 
 shows out the horrors of* that lawful enormity." 
 
 Mr. Tomlin did not condemn capital punishment. 
 Edith hstened with a very supercihous a^' to the argu- 
 ment carried on with her uncle. From capital punish- 
 ment the conversation went to murders, and those within 
 the remembrance of the latest generation represented at 
 the table, were discussed. One, whose mysterious and 
 ciniel manner had filled New York with horror, received 
 some lengthy comments. 
 
 " That was a murder," said Mr. Shaker, " the perpetra- 
 tor of which I never cared to have discovered. A man 
 who would take the bed from under his dying brother 
 deserved such a fate. It was too good for him !" 
 
102 
 
 RENSHAWE. 
 
 All the females at the table joined Mr. Shaker in this 
 condemnation. Perhaps I was rather the most vehement 
 in denunciation. Tomhn looked at me duiing the prog- 
 ress of my remarks. 
 
 " You're not throwing stones at that sinner, I trust, 
 Miss Kenshawe," said he. "IVIight you not do the same 
 thing yourself ?" 
 
 " I ! Mr. Tomhn ! What can you mean ? Not to speak 
 of a brother, I am quite incapable of taking the bed away 
 from a dying man, and really hope I always shall be." 
 
 "Didn't you take the horse out of a dying man's 
 wagon, up in the \dcinity of Rocky Cross, and tell him, 
 when you rode off, that you never expected to see him 
 again alive ?" 
 
 This low-toned question struck me speechless. I did 
 not open my Ups again all the evening. Miss Launey 
 mentioned her wish for a saddle-horse, and had made up 
 her mind finally to send Singular the next day inquiring 
 about the country. I wondered that Tomhn did not 
 offer Sunset ; but he was silent. Miss Launey and her 
 uncle occupied nearly all suppertime in talking about a 
 trip to Niagara Falls, in August. Mr. Shaker was en- 
 deavoring to induce her to stay 1;hrough the summer, by 
 the promise of that jaunt by autumn. 
 
 "It's the only watering-place to which I have never 
 been," said Edith ; but the great objection with me to 
 Niagara is the expense, just now." 
 
 " Is it more expensive than any other watering-place ?'* 
 asked Mi'. Shaker. 
 
 " Oh, yes — I'm told so at least." 
 
 " I have been to Niagara," said Tomhn, " and can't call 
 it an expensive journey — cost me very httle." 
 
 " You ! " cried Miss Launey, her dark eyes measuring 
 the opposite physiognomy with an expression almost of 
 scorn — "no doubt!" 
 
BLUE HILLS. 103 
 
 "Why?" rejoined Tomlin, "you don't suppose I go 
 deadhead on raikoads, do you, for the sake of my 
 beauty?" 
 
 Miss Launey, without answering this remark, pro- 
 ceeded to declare to the table generally, that she had 
 three friends who had been her compeers at the Young 
 Ladies' Collegiate Institute, who went the preceding 
 summer with the husband of one of them to Niagara, 
 and that while there, without buying any baskets of the 
 Indians, they had, being people in moderate circum- 
 stances, been forced to expend, during the week of their 
 stay, three thousand dollars apiece ! 
 
 "They must have been drunk aU the time," remarked 
 Tomlin nonchalantly. Miss Launey stared at him for 
 one moment, then bestowed her attention on her plate. 
 She too was silenced, and Mr. Shaker and Tomhn dis- 
 coursed on surveying till supper was over. 
 
 While the younger gentlemen had gone out to look 
 after Sunset's weKare, IVIiss Launey launched forth : 
 " Uncle Shaker, I don't see how you. can endure to have 
 such a man in your house ! He is a most unrefined and 
 disagi'eeable being, to use the mildest term. To speak 
 so of my dear friends and compeers ! Dear Uncle Shaker, 
 I can't repeat that horrid expression. He might have 
 said intoxicated, if he was obliged to say so rude a thing 
 at aU." 
 
 " My dear, I did not consider that rude," said Mr. 
 Shaker ; "it was a very natural thing for a person to 
 think, on hearing such a statement ; it occurred to me, I 
 confess. He is a very well-informed young man, and I 
 have yet to find that he has done a disagreeable or un- 
 gentlemanly thing." 
 
 Miss Launey was subdued. "He has never read 
 Cooper's novels, Uncle Shaker, I heard him tell you so." 
 
 " Well, Edith, he is not the only young man who has 
 
104 KENSHAWE. 
 
 never read all the books in the world — gi-and mathema- 
 tical turn of mind, my dear — I like it vastly." 
 
 I occupied myself throughout the evening in wi'iting 
 to my mother, to Cassy and to Eleanor Ostrander, and 
 as Mr. Shaker had gone to his study, and Miss Launey 
 was reading, Toidlin was left to Singular's society, in 
 which he seemed to take peculiar enjoyment. Miss 
 Launey was not so engi'ossed with her work that her lip 
 could not cui'l whenever Tomlin's low laugh sounded in 
 the adjoining room, and once she remarked to me : You 
 see what his taste is, !Miss Renshawe ! Uncle Shaker will 
 have a second edition of Singular here before long." 
 
 A shutting of doors and general bustle on the back 
 stairs, about ten o'clock, seemed to say that all the mem- 
 bers of the kitchen had gone to their beds. As I folded 
 my last epistle, Edith remarked: "If that !Mr. Tomhn 
 had been anything of a gentleman he would at least have 
 offered me the use of his horse, when I spoke of it this 
 evening." 
 
 That ]Mr. Tomlin moved directly into the sitting room, 
 as soon as these words were spoken. We both looked 
 up, as he hobbled on one crutch to our table. His face, 
 for some reason, was redder than I had ever seen it. 
 
 " Miss Launey," said he, " if you will do me the honor 
 to ride Sunset, I shall be most hapjDy to place him at your 
 disposal. I did not make the offer to-night, because I 
 was led to understand that you had ah-eady dechned it." 
 
 Edith bowed coldly, murmured something unintelli- 
 gible, and looked steadily at her book. Tomhn now 
 tm-ned to me, and with eyes of enthusiasm, though in a 
 hui-ried manner, expressed his deep sense of obhgation 
 to the whole household, fi'om iVIi\ Shaker do^vn to Sally. He 
 hoped that no nonsense he had been guilty of that night 
 had been heeded by me ; he reahzed perfectly to whom 
 he had owed the preservation of his hfe, and was the 
 
BLUE HILLS. 105 
 
 most gi*ateful of human beings. He feared I had thought 
 otherwise. His warmth of language and manner left his 
 sincerity beyond doubt. I gave him my hand cordially, 
 and Mr. Tomlin and I parted on the best of terms. 
 
 Edith had hstened to every word, with her eyes riveted 
 on Tomlin's face. She did not speak again until she 
 heard the door of his room close behind him, when she 
 exclaimed with emphasis : 
 
 " Ride his horse now! — Never!" 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 ^^TJ^HREE days served to complete Mr. Shaker's cap- 
 f frfj tivation. During those three days Tomlin had 
 
 ^^ reconstructed two silent clocks till they kept time 
 to a second, solved a great problem in trigonometry, and 
 two in algebra, which had engaged his host's attention 
 for six months. INIrs. Judson was particularly edified 
 when she found that on Sunday morning he read the 
 Bible studiously, while Edith and I were absent at the 
 village church. 
 
 Little as she fancied Tomlin, Miss Launey did not favor 
 the signs of his permanent withdrawal from the sitting- 
 room, shadowed forth in his visits to Mr. Shaker's study, 
 to which seclusion he received frequent invitations ; and 
 to provide for the possibility she determined to institute 
 a course of readings in the sitting-room. This proposal 
 met with universal favor, and Edith appealed to me to 
 select a book. I mentioned Cooper's novels immediately. 
 
 Miss Launey took exception. Li a family where she 
 had once visited, the most celebrated of Cooper's works 
 had been read, and for a month after nothing was heard 
 5* 
 
106 RENSHAWE. 
 
 but all kinds of Leather-stocking pln-ases, and slang 
 words. Tomlin looked at her in astonishment on this 
 observation, and Mr. Shaker was at some pains to con- 
 vince her that her idea of slang was erroneous. TVTien 
 I hinted to her that Cooper's tales were the best calculat- 
 ed to allure Mr. Tomlin's attention, her objection was 
 withdi'awn. 
 
 For several successive mornings the readings were kept 
 up, and in the evenings, at which time the housekeeper 
 was most at leisure, and if not the most apjoreciative, she 
 was certainly a most interested hstener. Singular and 
 Sally lui'ked as close to the kitchen door as they ventured 
 to come, Sally having incurred Mrs. Judson's disapproba- 
 tion for a late expense in the way of stockings, and 
 Singular having been remarkably shy of her presence 
 since the night of her memorable discovery regarding his 
 treatment of the cattle. 
 
 " You were not here last evening to hear ISIiss Launey 
 read," remarked TomHn, one morning when I was his 
 only companion in the sitting-room. 
 
 " No ; I was not weU. How did she read, and what 
 was it?" 
 
 "■ It was the Last of the Mohicans — might as well have 
 been written in their tongue for aU I understood of it. 
 Her affectations multiply when she reads — she hsps, and 
 breaks the words short, and runs them into each other, 
 and has a monotonous tone enough to di'ive an audience 
 wild. Judson sat here laughing in her sleeve incessantly." 
 
 "Ye larfed yerself, Tomlen, you know ye did," said 
 Mrs. Judson, who had just brought in the blue china to 
 its weekly visitation of soap-suds. " Lor', she never'd a 
 forgiv' you ; she thinks hei readin's some. She practised 
 at the gret Institute las' year." 
 
 "I captured the book last night," said Tomlin. "I 
 must read it over before she gets in fi'om her walk. Let 
 
BLUE HILLS. 107 
 
 me see, where was it Miss Kenshawe left off yester- 
 day?" 
 
 " Uncas was jest a droppin' down out o' the cave inter 
 the waterfall," said Mrs. Judson ; " two young ladies 
 wus a waitin' thar for the Injins." 
 
 Tomhn turned over the leaves leisurely, and Mrs. Jud- 
 on, in the midst of her attention to the blue china, soon 
 entered into a discourse relating to IVIiss Launey's past 
 history, detaihng her adventures, admirers, and parties, 
 with allusions to the family idiosyncrasies generally. 
 
 " They wus all up in a gret boarding-house, up in the 
 city, she and her mother and married sister, and I wus 
 thar, a takin' car' of Mrs. Shaker. She wus sick a good 
 while, and wouldn't hev no one but me, and the house 
 wus full of gentlemen, and thar wasn't many young ladies 
 thar, and what thar wus, wus larfin about Miss Edith, 
 and makin' fun of her the whole time.* 
 
 " Well, all the young gentlemen thar hked her won- 
 derful. Cur'ous enough, too, for she ain't so very hand- 
 some ; but they all thought she wus so sweet and winnin' 
 in her ways. And what does she do but goes and falls in 
 love with a young lawyer that wus thar ; name wus 
 GoHghtly. Tell you that man wus to be pitied. Not a 
 minute's peace did he get. She used to f oiler him round 
 like a dog ; in doors and out, and up stars and down, 
 and to church, and all over. 
 
 " Well, byme-by one of these gentlemen in the house 
 grew kind of desperate. Name wus Delaware. He wus 
 fa'rly ravin' 'bout Miss Launey — thought she wus so ele- 
 gant, and so beautiful — perfectly divine ; kep a writin' 
 poetry, an' a lookin' melancholy, an' a wanderin' about. 
 Some on 'em thort his brain wus affected. Well, one 
 night there wus a dreadful disturbance. ^Ir. Golightly 
 wus out that evenin' pretty late, and Miss Launey wus 
 very much concerned for fear he wouldn't get any supper. 
 
108 RENSHAWE. 
 
 *Now, Mrs. Hobson,' she'd say, 'jest let me put down 
 some of those fish-balls to warm for Mr. Golightlj's 
 supper.' She wus alius a beggin' for fish-balls to warm 
 for him, for he liked fish-balls wonderful. Well, that 
 night she got 'em; ]\Irs. Hobson put 'em down to warm 
 at the kitchen fire, and ISIr. Delaware wus as black as a 
 thundercloud ; and pretty soon, when Mr. GoHghtly came 
 in, IVIiss Launey she run down stars arter the fish-balls, 
 an' brought 'em up herself on a plate steamin' hot. And 
 Mr. Delaware wus madder then than ever. He waited 
 till ]Mi\ Golightly finished his supper, and then marched 
 up and iDut a j^istol ball right thi'ough his head — blew his 
 brains square out. There wus the dreadfullest commo- 
 tion you ever saw. Poor Mr. Golightly was carried up 
 to his room, and died in ten minutes. IVIr. Delaware was 
 took up and tried for murder, and sent to State Prison 
 for life. Don't know whether he's dead or alive now — 
 was a wonderful fierce, bad man ; ort to hev been, hung, 
 though he wusn't, cause the juiy thort he did it in a 
 passion and was 'scusable. I seen him ill-treatin' a poor 
 sick dog once, an' I know I said then that man would do 
 somethin' to fetch him to the gallers. It's well ]VIiss 
 Edith found him out as she did. The business most 
 killed her, and to this very day she looks as though she'd 
 committed a murder if any one speaks about sech a thing. 
 I was worried when you wus talkin' 'bout it t'other night. 
 " One would think by this time she would hev forgot 
 it most, ben so many love affairs all the time sence. One 
 young man went crazy and wus put in the lunatic 
 asylum." 
 " He must have been a little crazy before," said Tomlin. 
 " Why, Tomlen, thort you thort she was fascinatin',** 
 said the housekeeper. 
 
 " I never thought she was anything else than a com- 
 plete mass of airs and affectation." 
 
BLOT HILLS. 109 
 
 "Mr Shaker tells me," said I, "that her stilted phrases 
 were learned at the boarding-school, and you may have 
 noticed that they are only occasional." 
 
 "Thev are quite intolerable," Tomlm rejoined; I 
 don't mean her language particularly, but her manners. 
 I hope for the sake of the community at large, that those 
 remarkable compeers she talks about-I suppose she 
 means schoolmates-do not resemble her. 
 
 "Some nice, sensible young gentleman, said Mrs. 
 Judson, " might marry her yet." 
 
 Xomlin shook his head. "No sensible man would 
 marry Miss Launey while there was another woman left 
 
 in the world." , -r -• ^c j 
 
 "IVe heard men talk jest so," said Mrs. Judson, and 
 married the girls their own selves, after all." 
 
 TomJin took no notice of this reflection, and turned 
 back to his book. The housekeeper seemed uneasy. 
 
 "Ton wus disappointed when she cum, said she; 
 "vou expected to see sumthin' splendid; you took her 
 for the angel Gabriel afore she cum. Don't you remem- 
 ber how you had his photygraph up stairs ? Oh, you do 
 remember it, Tomlen?" 
 
 " How do you know that was his photograph ? asked 
 Tomlin. " How was it taken ?" 
 
 "I suppose it wus took somewhar," said Mrs. Judson, 
 looking a httle puzzled. "S'pose it's his photygraph; 
 they sell it for one. Guess we'll hev the blue chany out 
 a few days now, so many folks here." 
 
 The blue china was arranged on the closet shelves 
 and Tomlin remained absorbed in the book for the rest of 
 the day, to the great chagrin of Miss Launey. who insisted 
 that if people devoured the books in this mdependent 
 way by themselves, there was no sense in their attempt- 
 ing social famUy reading at all. As Tomhu disregarded 
 these remarks, Miss Launey grew quite displeased, and 
 
110 EENSHAWE. 
 
 she came down to tea with a fro-^ii on her brow that 
 promised no amiabihty on her part. An attack on Tom- 
 lin was first in order. 
 
 Names were discussed all tea-time ; mine was admired 
 not a little, and that of Berkley, introduced by Miss 
 Launey, was pronounced highly ancient and aristocratic. 
 I expressed my opinion of Launey, as a very pleasing and 
 attractive name. 
 
 " I think it's very, very horrid," said Edith ;" Launey — 
 such a nondescript appellation — I dishke it intensely." 
 
 " How would you hke Tomlin ?" asked the young gen- 
 tleman opposite. 
 
 IMiss Launey looked all possible indignation at the 
 innuendo, and vouchsafed no reply. Her intention of 
 never speaking to Tomlin again, was declared to me as 
 soon as we were alone. I wondered ]Mrs. Judson could 
 be blind to incidents that proclaimed such positive want 
 of congeniahty between the two. 
 
 "All fairly bewitched about Tomlin," said that respect- 
 able female. " Sally, she's took to warin' white stockens, 
 and bort a round cum, and Miss Launey — dear, dear !" 
 
 " IVliss Launey !" 
 
 "Why, yes ; ain't she- up now a-dressin' by sunrise 
 every mornin', so's to come to breakfast ? Didn't Mr. 
 Shaker say Hello to her the first day she walked in afore 
 we was done, never knowed her do it afore. Oh, when 
 you're fifty year old. Miss Kenshawe, you'll think more o' 
 what young ladies does than what they says. Ee'lly, it 
 is a goin' so far that I shall speak to Tomlin about it to- 
 night." 
 
 This resolution was duly executed. At midnight 'Mxs. 
 Judson marched into my room with a blazing candle, 
 and woke me from a sound sleep, to report her success. 
 
 " Don't know what to make o' that feller," she said 
 grimly ; "I tackled him when he cum from lockin' up 
 
BLUE HILLS. 
 
 Ill 
 
 the outhouses, I tole him to look out for his heart, for 
 he would be fallin' in love with Miss Edith as sure as 
 I was alive. He looked at me with them percen' eyes 
 he's got, aud says he : 'Do you suppose I can faU in 
 love with Miss Launey, while Miss Benshawe is in the 
 house ?' I s'pected he'd say that, an' says I, ' Tomlin, I've 
 watched you, an' you like Miss Renshawe, jest the same 
 aU the time, but Miss Edith you keep a Hkin' better aU 
 the whHe, an' ef you keep on you'U be soon in love. 
 Sayshe, 'IVIrs. Judson, you're just like a raven, croak, 
 croak aU the time.' So I tole him anyhow, she'd soon be 
 in love with him, an' it would turn out a good deal more 
 seri's than the Golightly bisness, and Tomlin said a more 
 seri's business than that was he couldn't conceive, unless 
 it was a-marryin' Miss Launey. I stuck to it he Hked 
 her better every day, an' he said he Hked her less aU 
 the time, an' went to his book ; tole me not to be pro- 
 phesyin' any more. Dear, dear, I'U give him up— I'U 
 give him up. 
 
 CHAPTEB Xn. 
 
 DITH'S displeasure at Tomhn was quite sincere, 
 and it was openly evinced on the day foUowing 
 that on which the offence was given. IMrs. Jud- 
 son, who was much addicted to smoking, suppHed herself 
 and Tomlin with tobacco and pipes, and the happy couple 
 were soon in the midst of a cloud ^ich rendered obscure 
 aU objects in the sitting-room. Miss Launey appeared 
 m the midst of it. Her look of consternation, as she 
 crossed the threshold, testified her disapproval, but she 
 was not long in making it more definitely known. 
 
 "I don't know how I can hve in aU this incense," she 
 
112 RENSHAWE. ' 
 
 said; "tobacco smoke is extremely disagreeable to 
 me." 
 
 Tomlin knocked the tobacco from his pipe, which he 
 laid on the shelf. The housekeeper viewed the motion 
 in dismay. Miss Launey waited for some time for Mi'S. 
 Judson to follow his example, then she spoke again. 
 
 "Mrs. Judson, if you continue to smoke, the whole 
 house will be impregnated beyond escaj^e ; my clothes 
 will be all smoked up, and I shall be unable to extract it 
 from my hair in a month." 
 
 "Well, I s'pose I'll hev to shut up shop too," said Mrs. 
 Judson, and with some final pufifs, very forcibly drawn, 
 her pipe was extinguished. " Dear, dear, ^liss Launey, 
 how much comfort you have broke up." 
 
 Utterly heedless of this reproach, Miss Launey moved 
 about the room, opening the windows, and creating a 
 draft that besprinkled the floor with ashes, another cir- 
 cumstance Edith viewed with horror. 
 
 " S'pose the fire'U hev' to be put out now," said Mrs. 
 Judson; "never was tole afore not to smoke in this 
 room." 
 
 Miss Launey sank into a seat by the window, with her 
 salts at her nostrils. JVIi's. Judson's resentment could 
 not be smothered. 
 
 " Is Tomhn a-settin' right on the cheer ?" she asked ; 
 " I see his elbow's on the dresser; didn't know but it ort 
 to come off." 
 
 " Come off !" echoed Tomhn. 
 
 " I have entu-ely done with IVIr. Tomlin," said Edith, 
 with a look of disdain, at that gentleman, who had not 
 looked up fi'om the pages of the Pathfinder since her 
 entrance. 
 
 " He'll be glad of it, I don't doubt," continued the 
 remorseless Judson ; "you've nearly hectered the Hfe out 
 of him now. I heerd him tell IMiss Kenshawe t'other 
 
BLUE HILLS. 113 
 
 day, you wus the plainest, humliest, and ugliest lookiu' 
 girl on airth — all conceit," and airs, and affection, and 
 humbug, and big words, and he wouldn't marry you 
 ^v-hile thar wus any woman left in the universe ; an' tole 
 me he'd ruther hev' his brains blowed out, ten times over, 
 than " 
 
 " Good heavens ! Mrs. Judson, what are you talking 
 about?" exclaimed Tomlin. 
 
 " I'm telHn' what you said," said Mrs. Judson, bringing 
 down her closed fist with emphasis. 
 
 " IVIr. Tomlin," said Edith, rising, and turning to him 
 with a glowing face, " is it true that you said that about 
 me?" 
 
 Tomhn acknowledged it immediately. Edith disap- 
 peared with much discomposure down the garden walk. 
 Tomlin reproved IVIrs. Judson in no measured terms, for 
 having made him responsible for such a rudeness. Mrs. 
 Judson energetically supported her side of the question. 
 She wus a-doin' it to save him — she know'd his danger. 
 Tomlin said " pshaw !" quite indignantly. 
 
 " Now jest see how mad you've got," cried the house- 
 keeper, " and me tryia' to save you from a love affair." 
 
 After quite a storm, a compromise was at last effected 
 by ^Irs, Judson's promising to let his love affairs alone 
 thereafter. 
 
 " "What a conceited fool she must thiuk me !" said Tom- 
 lin, quite uneasily. "You remember what I said, Miss 
 Kenshawe ; if you will explain, it may modify matters a 
 
 little." 
 
 I found Edith on a low seat in the arbor, quite pale 
 and panting with an agitation which was not that of 
 wrath. She started up as I came m, and caught both 
 my hands. 
 
 " Oh, Louisa !" she exclaimed, " does nobody like me? 
 Am I so disagreeable — so affected?" What can I do — 
 will you tell me ?" 
 
114 RENSHAWE 
 
 " I wiU teU you plainly," said I. " Be, as you are at 
 this moment, natural! Be yourself, and where others 
 offend, exercise patience." 
 
 Edith was quite humbled. She asked my advice in 
 much tribulation. It was easy for her to determine on 
 bearing no resentment against Tomlin. After a conver- 
 sation of some length she desu'ed me to tell him that 
 she was not offended; but she could not see him again 
 that day. I let her into the house by the fi'ont door, 
 and she escaped to her room, while I went to quiet Tom- 
 lin's soul. 
 
 At tea-time Miss Launey was sent for three times be- 
 fore she appeared. I saw at once that her attire had 
 received unusual care, but the low spirits that had been 
 dominant all the day had left visible traces on her face. 
 Both she and Tomlin were not in a conversable mood, 
 and for some time the sole conversation was carried on be- 
 tween ]\Ii\ Shaker and me on the subject of a log-book 
 which had traveled to the Ai'ctic seas, and on which he 
 was quite intent. 
 
 "My dear ]Mi\ Shaker," said ]\Irs. Judson when this 
 subject was exhausted, "thar's that four-acre lot ain't 
 been teched yet, and Sing'lar was goin' to plough it a 
 month ago." 
 
 !Mi\ Shaker looked grieved. " You must remember, 
 Julia, that he has a great deal to attend to, but I will have 
 some of these troubles about Singular explained. Call 
 him in, Sally." 
 
 Singular entered with his usual air of repose. Anxious 
 to preserve peace between the discordant members of his 
 family, ]\Ir. Shaker inquired, in a very mild tone, what he 
 had been doing that day. 
 
 Singular had been out all day hard at work setting out 
 the cabbages, and making a bonfii'e. Mr. Shaker looked 
 quite pleased. 
 
BLUE HILLS. 115 
 
 " Have the locusts come up yet ?" he inquired. 
 " Lokists ?" asked Singular, bewildered. " Never plant- 
 ed none; didn't liev no seed." 
 
 " I told you to write to me, Singular, while I was in New 
 York," said lilr. Shaker, gravely, " to tell me what seeds 
 were wanting." 
 
 Twist grew quite embarrassed under his master's dis- 
 pleasure. He wrung his straw hat into divers shapes. 
 " Wall, Mr. Shaker, I couldn't get no note paper 'thout 
 goin' to the village, and when we got it we \vus laid up 
 on pens, and when I got them the ink-bottle was all 
 dried up, and did write a letter — wus all done and folded 
 up on the mantelpiece three weeks a-waitin' for a 'velop, 
 and July kep a-promisin' to get it, an' I had cattle to 
 'tend to and couldn't get it, an' finally I giv it to Sally to 
 post, an' she did, the day afore you got hum, but thar 
 warn't no 'velop on it, an' I s'pect it never got thar. 
 S'pose it's advertised somewhar in New York." 
 " The four-acre lot, Sing'lar," said Mr. Shaker. 
 " Wal, the plough-share wus broke — been broke some 
 time. 'Tain't too late. Sam Garniss ain't teched his 
 next lot to plough." 
 
 " He tole me," cried Mrs. Judson, " that that lot was 
 going to grass. Now then, Siag'lar — and why ain't the 
 plough-share mended?" 
 
 " Took it three times to the blacksmith's shop myself, 
 and it was all shut up," said Sing'lar, vehemently. 
 
 " Oh, yes, you went once, 'bout ten o'clock at night, 
 and next time you went the man's mother was dead, and 
 you knowd the shop wouldn't be open, and next time it 
 
 was Sunday " 
 
 "Uncle Shaker, how can you permit these vulgar discus- 
 sions ?" besought Miss Launey. Mr. Shaker, quite wil- 
 ling to end it, dismissed Singular, and until we rose from 
 the table discoursed the log-book and the Ai'ctic regions 
 assiduously. 
 
116 rensha^t:. 
 
 "Ef Mr. Shaker thort less about the Nor^h Pole and 
 more 'bout his own gi'ounds," said ^Irs. Judson to ^Ess 
 Launey, sotto voce, "we shed all be better off." 
 
 Edith made no reply. She seemed very sad and re- 
 tained her seat at the table after the cloth had been 
 taken away. As soon as Iklr. Shaker had gone to his 
 study, Tomlin moved his chair across the room, and 
 seated himself by IMiss Launey. For some time they 
 were neither very conversable. I soon saw Edith's face 
 brighten, and after a while she grew quite cheerful, and 
 took the principal share in the discourse. 
 
 There was one soul that spoke very ominously in as- 
 kance glances, and when the young couple had separated 
 it declared itself penitentially thus: "I'd give my Sun- 
 day clothes this minit to undo what mischief I've done 
 to-day." 
 
 The extent of the mischief was soon obvious. IMiss 
 Launey called me into her room as I passed, and talked 
 of Tomlin till after midnight. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 OR two or three days I had noticed a book on 
 .-^ etiquette about the back sitting-room, and how- 
 ever often it was thrust upon the shelf, or laid in 
 the closet, it reappeared unfailingly in a conspicuous 
 place. It haunted the table where Tomlin was occu- 
 pied, sometimes alone, occasionally with ;^Ir. Shaker. On 
 one occasion the compasses were found inserted at a 
 chapter headed " Behavior to Ladies." 
 
 Tomlin had just come in fi'om the garden, where he 
 had been raking up the dead weeds for a bonfire which 
 pile SingTilai' was contemplating through the smoke of his 
 
BLUE HILSS. 117 
 
 pipe, and looked about for the problem Mr. Sbaker was 
 to leave for his solution. Miss Launey and I were the 
 sole tenants of the room. 
 
 " Mr. Shaker has not been down yet," said I. 
 « Very well, I'll read a short time. Where's the Prairie ?" 
 The Prairie vras discovered lying on the dresser with 
 the Book of Etiquette placed immediately on top of it. 
 
 " Is this treatise on manners traveling around here for 
 Singular's benefit or mine T asked Tomlin' as he seated 
 himself to the perusal of the novel. 
 
 *'It is a subject of the first importance, Mr. Tomlin," 
 said Edith, severely. 
 
 A discussion immediately arose. The subject was one 
 which Edith had studied devotedly, and she soon grew 
 not only natural but eloquent. A lecture ensued on the 
 laws of good breeding, to which Tomhn listened defer- 
 entially. Edith became desirous of an answer, and pro- 
 posed a series of anecdotes, declaring that she was sure 
 Mr. Tomlin would think the examples of politeness they 
 enforced perfectly absurd. Tomlin, quite sure of the 
 contrary, at once challenged the anecdotes, and Edith 
 detailed them in full force, with the air of a woman in 
 her element. 
 
 In the first place some very great man, she could not 
 remember whether it was Louis Quatorze or George 
 Washington, had, while riding on horseback with some- 
 body else, met a beggar who took off his hat, whereupon 
 the noted individual referred to took off his in return, 
 and on his friend expressing surprise at his responding 
 to the salutations of a pauper, the same noted individ- 
 ual, whether it was the king of France, or the founder 
 of American liberty, replied, "You surely would not 
 have a beggar surpass me in politeness!" 
 
 Tomlin pronounced the answer very good— very good 
 indeed. 
 
118 EENSHAWE 
 
 Miss Launey seemed much pleased, and hastened on: 
 "In the next place, while the Earl of Stair," (this 
 anecdote I remembered to have seen in Ollendorf's 
 Method of learning German,) " was visiting at the court 
 of France, the king laid a wager with several of the 
 courtiers that he would prove a foreigner more pohte 
 than a Frenchman. He was to choose his own time for 
 making the trial, and one day on going to his carriage, 
 with two coui'tiers and the Earl of Stair, he bade the 
 Frenchmen get in before him. They both drew back, 
 and the king then desii'ed the Earl of Stairs to enter 
 the carriage first, which he instantly did. The king had 
 won the wager." 
 
 "Very proper conduct in the Earl of Stair," Tomlin 
 said, " very proper indeed." 
 
 Edith, quite illumined, proceeded: "The Duke of 
 Bedford invited a French nobleman to dine with him. 
 The duke lauded a certain wine to his guest; it was 
 supposed to be a hundred years old, and a very su^^e- 
 rior kind of wine. It was brought on by the duke's 
 order, and the French nobleman's glass was filled with a 
 Hquid, very clear, and of the color of gold. The guest 
 di'ank the wine, and pronounced it excellent. The duke 
 next imbibed. He was in a great state of consterna- 
 tion — summoned the butler, and had the affair investi- 
 gated, when the supposed beverage proved to be pure 
 castor oil. The French nobleman had swallowed it 
 without shrinking. "Wliat think you of such pohteness 
 as his, ]Mi\ Tomhn ?" 
 
 "Oh, very fine, certainly; quite admirable." 
 " The next anecdote is a circumstance which came 
 within my own knowledge, therefore I can vouch for its 
 truth. A gentleman hving in a large village near Bos- 
 ton, saw his neighbor's house on fire one evening, and 
 immediately ran thither to apprise the inmates of their 
 
BLUE HILLS. 119 
 
 danger. On entering the hall he found the family aU at 
 prayers, and he had the good breeding to control the 
 first impulse of his heart, and paying due deference to 
 the solemn occasion, he waited until the prayers were con- 
 cluded before apprising them of the conflagration. What 
 have you to say to that, Mr. Tomlin?" 
 
 " I was a httle staggered by the castor oil," TomHn 
 confessed, " but this adventure fairly floors me. I must 
 own that if it had been my case, I should have inter- 
 rupted the devotions." 
 
 " Perhaps you have not been religiously educated, Mr. 
 TomHn, and do not attach proper importance to the cer- 
 emony." 
 
 "A^Tiy, IVIiss Launey," Tomlin protested, "reverence 
 for rehgion I certainly have; but this is running the thing 
 into the ground. If I found a congregation at prayers, 
 I would wait at the door till the prayers were over rather 
 than disturb them by entering; but you can't mean to 
 say that if the church was on fire it would not be my 
 duty to go in and tell them what was going on ? No, I 
 must say that your last specimen was infallibly a spooney." 
 
 " A what, IVIr. Tomlin ? Do, if you can, use phrases 
 current in poHte society." 
 
 " Haven't you read Thackeray enough to know what a 
 spooney is? Well, a sort of a flat.'* 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Tomlin, what horrid expressions; and not to 
 know of whom you were talking ! It might be some of 
 my nearest relatives !" 
 
 " You ought not to make a man commit himself blindly 
 about your nearest relatives," said TomHn. "Whose fault 
 was it that I gave you my opinion ? I really can't change 
 it. The man was a flat ! — a confounded flat ! I know 
 you think so yourself. You would have thought so if 
 you had been in the house." 
 
 " I hope I should never be so severe on the motives of 
 
120 RENSHAWE. 
 
 any one," cried Edith, " and after what you have just 
 said to me, I must really observe that for a man who 
 appears like a gentleman, dresses a little like a gentle- 
 man, and might pass among gentlemen as a gentleman, 
 you have the most impossible manners that any one can 
 conceive !" 
 
 " Will you be kind enough to pity my ignorance so far" 
 as to inform me what the adjective impossible, used in 
 this connection, means ? You must understand that I 
 am doing my utmost to profit by your admonitions." 
 
 Not noticing this question, Edith ran on volubly: "It 
 really behooves you, Mr. Tomlin, to learn by attention to 
 the laws of etiquette what nature has not taught you. 
 Your utmost endeavoi'^ vvill hardly serve to bring you up 
 to the standard of decency. You talk like an Ethiopian^ 
 you act in many ways like an Ethiopian, you laugh like 
 an Ethiopian !" 
 
 " You don't mea?i a nigger !" Tomlin exclaimed. 
 
 "Oh," cried Edith, stamping her foot, "don't pro- 
 nounce that word in the detestable style of Stephen A. 
 Douglas ! I do mean, if you force me to say so, a 
 negro. You talk like a negro; you laugh like a negro; 
 you — ^you " 
 
 " Look like one?" suggested Tomlin. 
 "Positively after the manners of the aristocrats 
 among whom I have circulated, yours are very distress- 
 ing." 
 
 "I must say," rejoined Tomlin, with perfect compos- 
 ure, " that although I cannot answer for my manners, 
 possible or impossible, yet in the circle of society where 
 I was brought up, ladies were not in the habit of calling 
 gentlemen niggers to their faces." 
 
 As society was Edith's sensitive point, this remark in- 
 creased her excitement. She informed Tomhn that she 
 had moved in the first circles — ^in the very highest ton — 
 
BLUE HILLS. 121 
 
 she knew what was de rigueur, and comme il faut, and 
 la chose. She could distinguish a gentleman instantly, 
 and really, she begged IMr. Tomlin would not converse 
 with her any more. 
 
 IVIr. Tomlin turned back to the Prairie, quite silent. 
 Edith's wi'ath had charged her usually pale face with a 
 vivid scarlet. She looked as though suffering with the 
 heat. 
 
 " If there was anything in the shape of a gentleman 
 here," she said, "I would ask it to bring me my fan. 
 Louisa, will you get it for me from the dresser ?" 
 
 Tomlin rose immediate^, took the fan from ^Mr. 
 Shaker's drawing-board, and carried it to Miss Launey. 
 She did not take it, and he laid it on the table. Her 
 wrath soon abated, and I saw that she felt into what a 
 ridiculous exhibition its indulgence had led her. 
 
 After a short silence, disturbed only by the turning of 
 a leaf in Tomlin's quarter of the room, I felt a hand laid 
 on my shoulder. Edith so far forgot etiquette as to kneel 
 by my side, and whisper a few words with tears in her 
 eyes. 
 
 " I am so sorry, Louisa, I lose temper so easily. He 
 certainly behaves better than I do. "What shall I do ?" 
 
 The case was beyond my art, and I would not advise. 
 Edith was sure something ought to be done to repair the 
 evil, and seemingly struck with an idea, she hurried up 
 stairs to dress, and went off in the direction of the 
 village. 
 
 I informed Tomlin, after her departure, that there was 
 a prospect of apology and reconciliation. 
 
 "It does not signify," said Tomhn, indifferently, 
 "whether we are reconciled or not. Her wi'ath does not 
 seriously affect me ; and I cherish none on my side 
 whatever." 
 
 Edith did not get in till late that afternoon, and' while 
 6 
 
122 RENSHAWE. 
 
 Tomlin was busy over a clock, which one of the neigh- 
 bors had left to be mended, eyes and thoughts apparently- 
 engrossed by the wheels and wires on the dresser, IMiss 
 Launey entered, looking quite hui'ried and tired, and 
 coming up to him unrolled a small package that she 
 carried, and let fall a roll of cigars among the tools. 
 
 Tomlin looked up gravely. 
 
 " What's that for ? a peace offering ? It's impossible, 
 Miss Launey." 
 
 " You don't mean to say that you decline ?" 
 
 " I do, very respectfully, and most absolutely, decline," 
 rejoined Tomlin. 
 
 I looked up in sui-prise. He had professed indifference, 
 but resentment spoke in every syllable. 
 
 Edith moved away dismayed, to the fireplace, and took 
 her seat with a dejected air. Tomlin's unflagging atten- 
 tion was bestowed on the clock, and as I was at the crisis 
 of Mr. Richard Jones's manoeu-^Tes with the horses, with 
 his sleigh half way over the precipice, I was not to be 
 diverted. The trio in the room had maintained for some 
 tkne a dead silence — the only sound heard emanating 
 from the kitchen, where Singular was preparing a Httle 
 tea, which refreshment he took about the middle of the 
 afternoon. 
 
 I had just discovered that nobody was to be killed, 
 and was perusing the narrative, under the dim conscious- 
 ness that Edith was miserable, and Tomlin offended, when 
 a crash was heard in the adjoining room. 
 
 "Massy!" exclaimed Singular; "the blue chany's 
 broke." 
 
 " Not the pitcher," said Tomlin, looking quite anxious. 
 
 "No," rejoined Twist, in tones of consternation. 
 " 'Taint much better, though ; one of them tea-cups. 
 'Twas full o' hot tea, an' I dropped it." 
 
 " Goodness ! what will become of us ?" said Tomlin, 
 
BLUE HILLS. 123 
 
 forgetting all about the clock. " Singular, you'd better 
 go and have the plough-share mended. Stay — don't come 
 back till midnight. I'll sit up and let you in." 
 
 *' Front door, Tomlen ; she'll be a watchin' at this one." 
 
 "Nice you're a-plannin'!" said Mrs. Judson, rushing in. 
 " Now then, Tomlen, arter all I've done for you, to find 
 you in sech a conspiracy, a layin' out with fi'ont doors 
 and back 'uns. Sing'lar — Sing'lar Twist ! V/har is the 
 feller ?" She ran to the window. "Lord ! he*s runnin' : 
 as true as I live Sing'lar Twist's a runnin' ! Is the sky 
 agoin' to fall, or what ?" 
 
 Singular had disappeared with uncommon celerity. 
 Mrs. Judson mourned for some time over the tea-cup, 
 and Hghting her pipe, her usual solace for trouble, she 
 hurried its odor away from Miss Launey's vicinity. 
 That young lady considered herself at the pass where 
 patience ceases to be a virtue. 
 
 "Mr. Tomlin," said she, "if you have not quite ex- 
 hausted your consideration on Singular Twist, and if all 
 the faculties of your mechanical soul are not too much 
 bound up in that — that timepiece, will you have the 
 great, the extraordinary goodness to lend me your atten- 
 tion for one moment ?" 
 
 " Certainly, madam ; as long as you choose." 
 
 " Then, Mr. Tomlin, is it your intention to smoke those 
 cigars ?" 
 
 " No ; I would die sooner." 
 
 " Die, rather than smoke those cigars ?" 
 
 "Exactly." 
 
 Edith walked up and down the room in a great state 
 of excitement, relieved at last by some lengthy communi- 
 cations made to me in a whisper. 
 
 "I've been all over Blue Hills to find those cigars, 
 Louisa, and yoa see he actually refuses them, and cannot 
 give me a civil answer. I think him very rude." 
 
124 RENSHAWE. 
 
 " Busy with the clock ?" I suggested- 
 
 " Not too busy to talk to Singular Twist about the do- 
 mestic comnilsion. He's very ungenerous ; own you 
 think so." 
 
 " He is very good-natured," I replied ; " you should 
 apologize." 
 
 Edith moved off on this declaration. Tomlin soon 
 looked round for a weight that stood out of his reach, on 
 the shelf. 
 
 " jMiss Eenshawe, may I trouble you for that weight ?" 
 
 " Goodness !" exclaimed Edith ; " with all your claims, 
 you ask a lady to perform such a service as that ?" 
 
 " I can't let go this string," said Tomlin, " without 
 half an hour's work in consequence. I suppose, iMiss 
 Louisa " 
 
 I was half way to the mantel-piece, when Edith sprang 
 before me, caught the weight from the shelf, and pre- 
 sented it. Tomlin adjusted it, touched off the pendulum, 
 closed the clock door, and turned toward Edith. A 
 questioning look at that young lady's glowing features • 
 made her penitence unmistakable. 
 
 '•' What will you have. Miss Launey ?" 
 
 " If we could be fiiends !" 
 
 " We can — with aU my heart ; but, honestly, you need 
 not expect to remodel me; you must take me as you find 
 me. We were brought up on different theories — we can 
 never agree on our favorite doctrines ; but we can be 
 friends if we can forswear aU debates, and bury those 
 that are gone in oblivion." 
 
 Edith instantly accepted the proposal, declared she 
 would never quarrel with him again, retracted her former 
 censures, and as a final triumph made Tomlin promise 
 to " consume " the cigars. They should be the seal to 
 their compact. 
 
 " I'm afraid," he answered, " the compact may end 
 like the seal, in smoke." 
 
BLUE HILLS. 125 
 
 Edith vowed and protested against such an " odious 
 sentiment ;" and the newly reconciled couple were soon 
 discoursing as amicably as ever. I was shortly so en- 
 grossed in the pages of the Pioneers, as to be obhvious 
 to all that went on for some time. I was startled just 
 about dusk with the intelligence of a new excitement. 
 Sally ran in, breathless, and roused me from my abstrac- 
 tion, to report that there was an awful deal of trouble. 
 Tomlin was looking all over for the horses — Sunset and 
 Gusty both had gone ; they were not in the stables, not 
 in the meadows, no sign of them in the street. Tomhn 
 was off at the height of a hill down the road, whither he 
 had gone as fast as his halting gait would allow. Sally ran 
 to carry him the crutch, which had been for some time dis- 
 carded, and Mr. Shaker came down from the study in 
 dressing-gown and spectacles. 
 
 Where was Singular ? He was sought vigorously, and 
 while Mrs. Judson was shouting his name about the gar- 
 rets, I found him asleep in the granary, where he had 
 gone to mend the floor. As he ran out, hammer in hand, 
 nobody could accuse him of not having been busy. The 
 trouble was soon made known. 
 
 "Why upon airth wusn't you lookin' arfter 'em?" 
 cried Mrs. Judson. 
 
 " Wus lookin' arfter 'em," Singular asserted ; " know'd 
 when they went ; know'd arter they wus gone. That ar' 
 hoss of Tomlen's is a wonderful unruly critter, Mr. 
 Shaker. He's pussuaded Gusty off, I know." 
 
 " I s'pose he thinks thar's more to eat in the road," 
 said Mrs. Judson. " Come, Sing'lar, why ain't you arter 
 em? Thar's poor Tomlen a Hmpin' about — sperrets 
 wiUin' enough, poor feller. Tain't his fault that he ain't 
 five mile away." 
 
 "He's too shaller to Hve," said Singular, sharply; 
 " bosses '11 come back ; s'pected 'em back fore this. I 
 shan't go arfter 'em." 
 
126 EENSHAWE. 
 
 "Well, don't know what we'll do, IMr. Shaker. One's 
 lame, and t'other 's lazj — might as well say ' good-bye, 
 John,' to the hosses." 
 
 IMr. Shaker was fairly aroused about the horses, but 
 by no means inclined to Singular's opinion that they 
 would come back themselves. Tomlin soon moved up 
 the lawn. Sam Garniss and he were going after the 
 horses immediately. Garniss drove up in a light sulky 
 to the gate, by the time Tomlin had changed his coat, 
 and they were off dii'ectly. 
 
 Mr. Shaker's mind gi-ew quiet, and after worrying 
 a little while about Gusty, he endeavored to console Sin- 
 gular, by expressing his hopes that the horses would 
 soon be found, and by laying the whole blame on Sunset. 
 Thus spared by his master, Singular grew easy, and 
 looked at the housekeeper with a defiant air. 
 
 " Don't see how you're goin' to get the cows into the 
 lot, Sing'lar," said she. "No hoss to ride to-night. 
 Hain't never tole Mr. Shaker how you jumped the 
 cattle over them bars." 
 
 " That warn't much trouble for em'," said Singular, 
 stiffly. 
 
 "Warn't it? I'd like to see anybody settin' you to 
 jumpin' over bars. How high do you s'pose you'd go ? 
 Tain't mor'n this momin' you said you'd mend that 
 fence, and now you see the horses hev got off, an' you'U 
 hev to pay damages." 
 
 " Couldn't mend the fence," said Singular, fiercely ; 
 " wus hard to work aU day." 
 
 "Oh, I know how hard you worked. Singular. You 
 wus all the mornin' a stickin' thi'ee rods o' brush in the 
 peas ; SaUy foddered the cattle, afore you wus up, an' 
 this artemoon you broke the teacup, an' then you wus • 
 done. An' what did you do yesterday, for mercy's 
 sake ?" 
 
BLUE HILLS 127 
 
 " Set out cabbages — a hull row." 
 
 "So ye did — three in the row; I jest ben lookin' at 
 em. Ef some one don't help you, there won't be a live 
 thing growin' this summer ; stuck three plants in a cab- 
 bage-bed, aU you done yesterday, on the face of the 
 airth." 
 
 " Made a bonfiar," Singular suggested." 
 
 " Oh, yes — Tomhn wus out here, an' raked up all the 
 dead stuff, and you lit it, an' so you went in afore Mr. 
 Shaker, an' says : ' / made a bonfiar !' An' ye promised 
 solemn this mornin' you'd mend the granary floor." 
 
 " Did mend it, arfter I cum back from the ploughshare 
 business. Didn't you hear me a-hammerin' in thar ?" 
 
 Mrs. Judson looked incredulous, but as it was too late 
 for inspection without the aid of a lantern, she post- 
 poned it till the morning." 
 
 Quite late in the evening, just as I was going to my 
 room, I was stopped by the housekeeper, who wore a 
 very disturbed air. 
 
 " Thar's some folks at the gate, jest ben inquiring for 
 Tomlin, an' askin' who's in the house ; and when I men- 
 tioned your name they wanted to see you. It's a lady — 
 queer sort o' folks, I mistrust — said I needn't come out 
 agin." 
 
 My curiosity was not a little excited, and I hurried to 
 obey the summons. There was a Hght open wagon at 
 the gate, to which a single horse was attached ; a gleam 
 from a lantern feU upon my face as I came down the 
 walk, and I was greeted in tones that I recognized im- 
 mediately, as those of my cousin, Alice Ludlow. 
 
 " Louise, I hardly thought it possible you could be 
 here," she said ; " and I have but a very few minutes to 
 stay." She leaned from the carriage and kissed me. 
 
 "How is Mr. Tomlin?" 
 
 " Much better," I answered ; perceiving that my cousin 
 
128 RENSHAWE. 
 
 had a companion. This was a man wearing a slouched cap, 
 and a high muffler, that covered all but his eyes, though, 
 from his general appearance, I judged he was quite 
 young. He did not speak to me, and I was asked sundiy 
 questions about Tomlin, by my cousin — when he would 
 »be back, whither he had gone, how long he had been in 
 Blue HiUs, and when he expected to quit that village. 
 
 When these questions were answered, a few low words 
 of consultation ensued between my cousin and her com- 
 panion ; after which the former, taking a paper from her 
 pocket-book, delivered it to me, with strict injunctions 
 to give it to no one else but Tomlin, and should he not 
 retui'n, to destroy it. 
 
 They were off almost immediately. I stood for some 
 time at the gate, listening to the rapid roll of theii* wheels, 
 and as soon as the surprise caused by this unexpected 
 meeting with my cousin had subsided, revolving all the 
 suspicious and painful featui'es of the episode, I went 
 back to the house, thinking worse of Tomlin than I ever 
 had before ; or at aU events with my mind agitated by 
 the cruel suspense that belonged to suspicion. As for 
 Alice, I could understand her conduct only far enough 
 to reprobate it. Her companion was, as I supposed, a 
 perfect stranger, and I had seen his face only distinctly 
 enough to be haunted with a strange recognition. "What 
 would her fiancee, Louis Ostrander, say of these singTdar 
 escapades, if they came to his knowledge ? 
 
 The household was not a little agitated in regard to 
 the fate of Tomlin and the horses ; IMi's. Judson wan- 
 dered about in a continual ferment. 
 
 "Hope, they ain't aU smashed up in a heap," she said 
 anxiously ; "that Sam Gamiss is an awful feller to 
 drive; fetched me once from Caney Fork, and upset three 
 times afore we got to Eocky Cross. Didn't go no furder 
 than Rocky Cross — thort I'd had enough of it — said it 
 
BLUE HILLS. 129 
 
 wus a young colt he wtis tryin' to break— hope he ain't 
 a-tryin' to break more to-night, or we might not see 
 Tomhn so soon as the bosses." 
 
 " Any imrticular risk about it ?" asked Mr. Shaker. 
 
 " Sartin, thar is— he's an orful feller with a boss. I 
 
 was down on the store steps t'other day, and he 
 
 cum along, smokin', and wagin' a-swingin' as usual. 
 
 Store-keeper hollered, 'hello Garniss, whar's yer 
 
 breechin' strap.' 'Dang the boss,' says Sam says he, 
 
 * that can't keep clar of the wagin I' and away they went, 
 
 wagin' a-bangin' agin the boss every step they trotted." 
 
 " Why did you not inform Tomlin ?" said her master. 
 
 " Did tell him, but didn't make any difference. He'd 
 
 a-gone, I s'pose, in cirkis harness, arter Sunset." 
 
 Abut twelve o'clock at night, Tomlin rode into the 
 yard with the horses. Garniss and he had found them 
 up at Caney Fork, where they had been stopped by a 
 farmer's son ; they were made fast in the stables, and 
 Singular solemnly promised to have the fence mended 
 by sunrise ; and J\lrs. Judson declared that not a morsel 
 should he have to eat, until that vow was fulfilled. 
 
 "Oh, let him have his breakfast, Julia," said Mr. 
 Shaker, with a shocked air." 
 
 " Then 'twon't never get done. No, Sing'lar, I'll call 
 ye to-morrer fore sunrise, an' I'll keep yer breakfast hot 
 till the fence is done.'* • 
 
 Tomhn had just come in, as this arrangement was 
 complete. He looked very pale with fatigue, and owned 
 that it had been no easy matter to find the horses. 
 
 "That Garniss is a very obhging fellow," he remarked; 
 " got out his horses and did not stop to eat his supper, 
 I shall not soon forget it." 
 
 "He ought to receive some acknowledgment," re- 
 marked Mi\ Shaker. 
 
 " IVIight send him a harf a dollar," suggested Singular. 
 6* 
 
130 RENSHAWE. 
 
 " "We'll send you with it to-morrer," said Mrs. Judson, 
 angrily ; " half a dollar ! wonder what you'd think wus 
 pay for sech a tramp ?" 
 
 I took advantage of the excitement, of which this 
 speech was the signal, to apprise Tomlin of my cousin's 
 visit, though I did not mention her name. Tomlin ex- 
 pressed his thanks, as he took the papers, and my sus- 
 picions were laid to rest in a great measure, by the cool- 
 ness with which he regarded the incident. I said the 
 lady particularly desii'ed to see him. ^ 
 
 " It is quite as well," replied Tomlin. As he left the 
 room I saw a strange look upon his face, that served 
 to disturb me again. No soul, not ill at ease could have 
 lent such an expression to the features. 
 
 The next morning I heard Mrs. Judson clattering at 
 Singular's door by early dawn, and after some scolding 
 back and forth, I saw him leisurely plodding his way 
 across the cornfields. After breakfast, j\Irs. Judson 
 saved a decent amount of steak and potatoes, which 
 hissed away in the frying-pan for a goodly time. At 
 last they were put on a plate and consigTied to the stove 
 oven ; but as there was no sign of Singular Twist, IMrs. 
 Judson's heart at last relented, and she went to remind 
 him of the breakfast, of which he had been so obhvious. 
 There was no sign of Twist in any of the lots, in the 
 street, or in the out-houses ; what was more, the fence 
 had not been touched. 
 
 Sally had gone up in the course of the morning to 
 Garniss's with a sum of money, and on her retui-n, 
 she stated that Garniss refused the reward. "Coui'se, 
 know'd he would," said IVIrs. Judson, slapping the money 
 on the shelf ; "now then, Sally, you've got to put on yer 
 bonnet agin, an' go look for Sing'lar. He's sleepin 
 summers about town:" 
 
 " He's up to Garniss's," said Sally in a tone of wonder. 
 
BLUE HILLS. 131 
 
 « Sot thar eatin' breakfast when I went in; wus a tellin' 
 over some yarn 'bout how we starved him. Everybody 
 thar wus up from the table, and he sot crooked over 
 drinkin' corfy. Wus in a hurry, guess, hadn't took his 
 straw hat orf." 
 
 Mrs. Judson's emotions were too powerful to enable 
 her to threaten vengeance. She sank back in a chair, 
 and hfted both her hands. 
 
 " Starved ! well, of all things ! an' beggin' his break- 
 fast to Garniss's ! Never in my Hfe did I see anything, 
 or anybody to match Sing'lar Twist." 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 'ITH all the household Tomlin rapidly in- 
 \^\^\ creased in favor, and that member of it by whom 
 he was held in special esteem, was Singular. By 
 that individual he was extolled to the skies ; for, as Mr. 
 Twist's chief horror was that of doing anything, his 
 gratitude was evoked in the most signal way by sundry 
 small chores vrith which Tomlin employed himself 
 throughout the greater part of the day, such as mowing 
 the lawn, trimming the vines, and harnessing Gusty, all 
 which, Singular declared, saved him a " powerful deal of 
 trouble-'- Mrs. Judson was no longer in despair over the 
 garden ; Tomlin had promised his energies in that quar- 
 ter, with the only stipulation that his share in its pros- 
 perity should not be made known to Mr. Shaker ; and 
 the housekeeper, over whom he exercised great influence, 
 reluctantly consented. 
 
 "Mr. Tomlin seems to have advanced in your good 
 graces," I remarked to Edith during the day on which 
 
132 BENSHAWE. 
 
 Twist breakfasted out. "I see you were talking to him 
 this morning in the summer-house a long time." 
 
 " Yes ; we have been discussing what that wretched 
 Mrs. Judson calls my whims. I opened the subject, and 
 it has had a delightful termination. I am to be cui'ed of 
 them." 
 
 I asked how a consummation so much to be desired 
 was to be brought about. 
 
 " WTiy, Tomlin says it is nothing more than that I have 
 a mathematical turn of mind, and that if he had daugh- 
 ters he should train them all up to study mathematics. 
 He analyzed my desire to see everything at proper 
 angles — chairs square against the wall, people square on 
 the chaii's, and tables square with the people. I said it 
 was so ; a thing which is three-quarters of an inch 
 crooked, unsettles my nerves. Tomlin says it is be- 
 cause I am tied to elementary princij^les. For his part, 
 one angle is as beautiful in his eyes as another ; and 
 his greatest pleasure is in watching the multitudi- 
 nous angles in nature ; for instance, in passing through 
 a forest, the angles made by the trees are as countless 
 as the sands of the seas. He thinks that if I will but 
 study conic sections, I will be so partial to curves, that 
 I will admii'e all kinds of positions and shapeS; to the 
 same extent that I now do proprieties. I suppose I shall 
 see a problem every time jMrs. Judson sets the table at 
 cross-corners." 
 
 " And is Tomlin going to teach you conic sections ?" 
 I asked. 
 
 "First geometi-y, which I have studied a Httle, and 
 conic sections afterwards. He is going to bake some 
 clay cones in the sun, to give me practical illustrations. 
 I thought clay was not very nice, but Tomlin says as we 
 were made out of the dust of the eai-th, I should not 
 cavil at it." 
 
BLUE HILLS. 
 
 133 
 
 The first lesson was given that very evening. Miss 
 Laiiney had some superficial knowledge of geometry, 
 and it was difficult to decide whether the master or pupil 
 was more deeply interested in the business in haiid. I 
 soon saw that, though they disputed nearly all the eve- 
 ning, they had chosen the best imaginable plan to pro- 
 mote a fuU and final reconcHiation. For some days I 
 left them ahnost altogether to themselves, and pursued 
 my usual avocations in the summer-house, where Miss 
 Launey feared to stay, on account of the insects which 
 alighted on the vines. It was scarcely less pleasant in 
 the back sitting-room. East and west windows stood 
 open fi'om dawn tHl candle-hghting, admitting the mild 
 breezes of spring; and the bees hummed all day about 
 the hive, in close proximity to the window. 
 
 The first rainy day that silenced the bees and banished 
 the zephyrs, forbade me the summer-house; and for the 
 hour that Edith's lesson lasted, I was a tenant of the sit- 
 tmg-room. I busied myself in attempting a sketch of 
 the gTOup, and in the mean time gathered, fi'om the prog- 
 ress of. remarks, that the course of the lessons had not 
 run smooth for the last few days. 
 
 " I trust I shall not try your patience too severely this 
 morning, Mr. Tomlin," Edith began; "I have been study- 
 ing by myself." 
 
 " Then you are all primed with letters, of course !" 
 " I must learn by the letters, Mr. Tomlin. We went 
 all through EucHd, at the Young Ladies' CoUegiate Insti- 
 tute, and alioays attached the letters to the demonstra- 
 tion." 
 
 " Well, the Institute settles the point, of course. You 
 may recite the forty-seventh proposition." 
 
 Edith went through it with a fluency that I thought 
 must deUght the soul of any teacher. 
 
 " I am only speaking for your own sake, Miss Edith,'* 
 
134 RENSHAWE. 
 
 said Tomlin. " Tliis sort of thing is of no advantage to 
 you — all wasted time. You might as well recite a Latin 
 epic without any idea of the signification of the words. 
 You won't get into the cones in a year." 
 
 " Mr. Tomlin, you are really very discoui-aging ! I have 
 studied very, very hard all the morning." 
 
 " I know you have ; you have lavished on these prob- 
 lems three times the study that would enable you to 
 understand them perfectly, and your knowledge of them 
 is hardly preferable to Singular Twist's. I'll prove it 
 immediately. There's the forty-seventh without the let- 
 ters : indicate the lines and angles with your pencil, and 
 proceed." 
 
 Edith fidgeted considerably. " I'll say the whole pro- 
 position without the diagram, Mr. Tomlin, if I may say it 
 with letters. We never had diagrams at the Young 
 Ladies' Collegiate Institute. Our teacher used to tell us 
 to keep the diagrams in our minds." 
 
 " The more I hear of that remarkable Institute," said 
 Tomlin, "the more I am inclined to wonder that the 
 young ladies graduated with any intellects left. You 
 didn't keep the diagrams in your mind, and if you will 
 attend to me closely, I'll endeavor to insert a few into 
 that receptacle." 
 
 Edith riveted all her faculties : Tomlin explained and 
 re-explained for two hoiu'S with the most commendable 
 patience. Edith Hstened with an anxious face. 
 
 "Kecollect," said Tomhn, in conclusion, "you are 
 never to think of these letters again, except so far as 
 necessary to learn the lesson. By the way, you need not 
 tie yourself to a stated task Hke a school girl. Why 
 don't you progress faster ?" 
 
 " I have so little time, Mr. Tomlin." 
 
 " WTiat becomes of youi' time these long summer days ?'* 
 
 Edith enumerated : She rose at six, was dressed for 
 
BLUE HILLS. id 5 
 
 breakfast by seven. After breakfast she directed Sally 
 in putting her room in order. That occupied till ten 
 o'clock, when she took her first lesson. From eleven till 
 twelve, she slept ; from twelve till one, she dressed for 
 dinner. After dinner she strolled out a little while, then 
 studied for her next recitation. At five o'clock, she al- 
 ways went to dress for tea — a duty impossible to perform 
 in less than two hours. Her evening employments were 
 various, and known to the household. 
 
 "I hardly know," said Tomlin, "how to suggest an 
 alteration in such a routine ; but I should think if you 
 could curtail your directions to Sally, something might be 
 gained. If you were my sister, and I had therefore the 
 right to advise, I might add, that two or three hours 
 taken fi'om your toilette and spent half in study, and 
 half in hay-making, would be of advantage, mental and 
 physical." 
 
 " Hay-making !" cried Edith. 
 
 " Yes, or hoeing. There is that bed of beets, outside 
 the garden gate, in which Singular pulled up exactly six- 
 teen weeds yesterday, at Mrs. Judson's instigation. It 
 has been an eye-sore to me for a week, but I am hardly 
 strong enough to attack it yet." 
 
 Edith thought it wise to pass over these suggestions in 
 silence, and withdrew with her books. 
 
 Tomlin opened a conversation with me : 
 
 " Four hours out of the blessed day spent in putting on 
 clothes and braiding hair ! It sounds incredible ! " 
 
 There was more silence, after which came a sober 
 question : " Miss Kenshawe, is it your opinion that there 
 is anything going on under this roof that deserves the 
 name of flirtation ?" 
 
 " Only what goes on over the drawing-board," said I, 
 laughing, " and that seems to be conversation and study 
 intermixed. What sort of a student does Miss Edith 
 make?" 
 
136 RENSHAWE. 
 
 " She tries very hard ; btit she has no brains," Tomlin 
 replied, " at least none for this sort of thing." 
 
 Remembering his remark on her mathematical turn of 
 mind, I was wondering whether it was her mistake, or 
 his disappointment, when Tomhn resumed : 
 
 " You are an impartial looker on ; I want you to pro- 
 mise, that if you see matters progi-essing to the dignity of 
 a love affair, you will inform me at once, that I may put 
 myself beyond the reach of danger." 
 
 " You don't mean by leaving, IVIr. Tomlin ?" 
 
 "Certainly." 
 
 " Then it's very short-sighted in you," said I, laughing, 
 " to depend on me for a warning, after giving that as a 
 consequence. I shall be very bhnd to anything that 
 threatens to send you away." 
 
 Tomlin turned to me wdth more earnestness and 
 warmth of manner than I. had ever seen in him before. 
 
 "My sister — my dear sister," he said, "if there is a 
 woman in the world x)n whose sense and discretion I 
 have rehance, it is you. I know, if you give me the 
 promise I ask, you will certainly keep it, though the ful- 
 fillment should conflict with your wishes more than it is 
 likely to here. I say to you, in all soberness, I am not in 
 love with that girl, and have serious objections to becom- 
 ing so; at the same time I may not be able to judge for 
 myself before long, and I ask one who is a candid and 
 impartial spectator to judge for me." 
 
 I was a little touched by this address, and though 
 unable to respond so cordially as to call Tomlin my 
 brother, I was not insensible to the compliment paid by 
 the adoption on his part. 
 
 " Why need your staying here insure your falling in 
 love with ]Miss Launey ?" I asked. 
 
 "Because, if you shut up any man in a hermitage 
 with a young giii, a love affair is inevitable. People as 
 
BLUE HELLS. 137 
 
 dissimilar as ]\Iiss Launey and I by daily intercourse grow 
 congenial. I beg you won't imagine that I think Miss 
 Launey in any danger of succumbing to the evils of 
 the seclusion — not at all; I have not the presumption to 
 suppose it; but she is very much of a coquette, among 
 her other faults too numerous to mention, and it is 
 quite probable that / may be in danger. I like her bet- 
 ter than when she first came. I really don't dishke her 
 affectations; I am quite reconciled to the ' compeers;' find 
 myself with a vocabulary of her pet words, and besides 
 all that I think she improves in looks." 
 
 " That is the most alarming of all," said I. 
 
 TomHn seemed thoughtful. " I have heard of men 
 falhng in love with capricious scholars, and rebellious 
 scholars, and idle scholars. Whether a man can fall in 
 love vdth a stupid scholar or not remains to be seen." 
 
 The next day IMiss Launey surprised the whole fam- 
 ily by working for three hours at the bed of beets, dur- 
 ing TomHn's absence at Garniss's. She refused to ac- 
 cept any assistance either from me or from Sally; it was 
 aU to be her own work. She came in at last, flushed 
 and triumphant, but after an hour in her apartment re- 
 appeared in consternation. 
 
 " ^Irs. Judson, what is to be done about my hands ? 
 Only see how they are soiled !" 
 
 " Siled ? Looks hke stain. Better wash 'em.' 
 
 " Wash them ! I have been washing them for an hour 
 with every brand of soap in my box !" 
 
 " Shouldn't hev thought you'd a-handled them weeds, 
 . without gloves on," said Mrs. Judson. " Don't know 
 what you wiU do." 
 
 "What does Singular do to extract these fearful 
 juices ?" asked Edith with a face fuU of concern. 
 
 " Sing'lar ? Laws, guess he hain't pulled up so many 
 weeds in a year as you have this mornin'." 
 
138 REWSHAWE 
 
 Miss Launey appealed in despair to Twist, who saun- 
 tered in at the moment. Singular looked as sympathiz- 
 ing as possible, and then said he did not know; guessed 
 it would "war off." 
 
 " Wear off ! Terrible !" exclaimed Edith. " Can't you 
 suggest an;yiihing. Singular ?" 
 
 Singular said "thar was lemin-juice would take off 
 some stains. Didn't know whether it was good for poke- 
 weed stains or not." ]\Iiss Launey tried lemon juice to 
 no effect. Singular's resorts were at an end. He thought 
 Tomlin might know something about it; better wait till 
 he came home. 
 
 ISIiss Launey wore gloves all the evening, and devoted 
 herself to her uncle's botanical works with a face of 
 despair. ^Irs. Judson called my attention to the late 
 demonstration significantly. 
 
 " Never know'd her do such a thing afore in my life, 
 Miss Renshawe, as work in a beet-bed. She's fairly gone 
 crazy. Didn't get much consolation from Tomlin about 
 her hands. He tole her it would certainly wear off in 
 seven years, for everybody had a new skin by that time. 
 She don't like to hev him maken fun of her. She's detar- 
 mined on hevin' his heart, an' it'll be gone afore he 
 knows it." 
 
 T^Tiatever might be Edith's design on Tomlin's heart, 
 she was apparently the most devoted of pupils. Her 
 apphcation, now that it was rightly directed, was 'atten- 
 ded with a marked result. She owned to me that she 
 had no great taste for the study in hand. If it had 
 only been some foreign language; German, for instance, 
 and they were reading a German novel together, how 
 much finer it would be. 
 
 I had resolved not to be unmindful of Tomlin's in- 
 junction, consequently I stationed myself for several 
 mornings in the sitting-room to gain a just idea of the 
 
BLUE HILLS 139 
 
 state of affairs. I decided before long that whatever 
 might be the danger Tomlin had feared for himself, 
 Edith was, of the two, in the most unenviable frame of 
 mind. 
 
 She watched every look and motion, listened atten- 
 tively to every word he said, and her recitations were 
 faultless. Moreover, when the least interruption occurred 
 her annoyance was intense. And interruptions were not 
 a few. Mr. Shaker was constantly coming in mth the 
 log-book to ask some explanation of signs and degrees; 
 Sally was all the time bringing some report about the 
 horses, or hens, that took Tomlin off to the stables or 
 poultry-yard. IVIiss Launey's indignation was marked 
 by TomHn with a quiet amusement that spoke well for 
 the calmness of his soul; nevertheless, I fancied that he 
 was flattered by the exacting nature of her behavior. One 
 morning the annoyance on her part rose to a higher 
 pitch than usual. Mrs. Judson had just rushed in, carry- 
 ing a piece of carpet about two feet square. 
 
 " Whar's Sing'lar Twist ?" she demanded, tumultuously. 
 
 Singular, who had been whisthng and whitthng for some 
 time outside the window, presented his enticing physiog- 
 nomy at the same. " Oh, thar you air, Sing'lar. Now, 
 then, didn't you tell me you'd mend the granary floor ? 
 Didn't you promise an' vow so solemn you would ? and 
 hevn't you only spread down this piece of carpet over 
 the hole, an' I jest fell in an' like to killed myself, hey ? 
 What'll Mr. Shaker say to such mendin' as that, hey ? 
 Tell you I fell right down into it." 
 
 "Wall," protested Singular, "what are jou alius 
 a-goin' along in such a hurry for ? S'pected ye'd look 
 under the carpet afore ye stepped on it. You're alius 
 a-smashin' about, and a-breakin and a-smashin !" 
 
 " Oh, yes, I broke the blue chany, didn't I, Sing'lar I 
 'Mx. Shaker's blue chany tea-set." 
 
140 RENSHAWE. 
 
 " Ye talk as though I'd broke the hull set," said Sin- 
 gular, resentfully; "never broke but one tea-cup." 
 
 "Well, ain't that a breakin' the set?" demanded the 
 housekeeper. " It's eleven cups an' sassers, an' one odd 
 sasser. Ef that set ain't broke better git the pitcher an* 
 dash that, too." 
 
 jMiss Launey had with difficulty commanded her tem- 
 per; at this juncture she lost patience. " ^Ii'S. Judson," 
 she said, " have you nothing in the world to do but to 
 run about with carpets 1 You have shaken the dust all 
 over my dress. Thi'ow it out of the window, and send 
 Singular to his business if he has anything to do." 
 
 " To do ? I shed think so ! Ain't thar the four-acre 
 lot ? TeU you what " 
 
 Singular started up, and jammed on his straw hat. 
 " I'll start now an' bum the swamps over." 
 
 " Oh, sartain; you ken strike a match anytime. Don't 
 you want Tomhn to help you kerry it ?" 
 
 Singular was heedless of this sarcasm, and moved off 
 in the dii'ection of the swamp-ground. This day]VIiss 
 Launey did not aj)pear to succeed so well with the reci- 
 tation as usual. Tomlin was ui a mood that she always 
 found provoking. 
 
 " What does the cosine equal ?" he had iaquired. She 
 did not know. . 
 
 " You know that the sine divided by the tangent equals 
 the cosine. That you knew yesterday. Now, what does 
 the cosine equal ?" 
 
 Edith shook her head. " I don't remember, Mr. Tom- 
 lin." 
 
 " I don't ask you to remember; I only ask you to reply. 
 I've made it so plain that ]^Ii's. Judson could answer it." 
 
 "]Mrs. Judson!" said Edith, indignantly. 
 
 " To be sure, we'U test it. Mrs. Judson " 
 
 " Oh, Lord ! don't ask me none o' yer jigenometry," 
 
BLUE HILLS. ^^^ 
 
 said the housekeeper. " I never steddied beyond the rule 
 
 °' *^: ZZ^ that." m. Judson Hstened with a 
 broad ffrin, while TomHn put the question. 
 
 " H the sine divided by the tangent equals the cosine, 
 what does the cosine equal?" -j ivr^„ T„<q 
 
 "Ekils the sine divided by the tangy," said Mrs. Jud- 
 
 '"Tomlin looked exultantly at his pupil. Edith grew 
 
 r^^ iiStow you were trifling with me when you 
 asked the question. I suppose I could have said if two 
 couples arl four, four are two couples; but I supposed 
 ™u were trying to teach me something. At aU events I 
 wasli^gtol^arn; and if you think I know less abou 
 rrigonLftry than Mrs. Judson, perhaps I hadbetternot 
 
 '■^SoTquite indignantly, andgatheredupherbojs. 
 Tomhn stopped her. to disclaim all intention of trifling. 
 Quite a J£hy discussion ensued. It ended mor a^- 
 cablythan usual; and Miss Launey actuaUy forgot the 
 demands of her toilet till it lacked fifteen mmutes of 
 
 "tv^iilS myself of the moment that Mrs. Judson had 
 gone to summon Mr. Shaker to table, I leaned from ttie 
 Ldow, outside which Tomhn stood regar<hng thought- 
 fdly several clay cones baking in the sun, and said m a 
 
 ^""^'tTu asked me to warn you when I saw danger at 
 
 '''Tomlin looked at me gravely. "Don't teU me so yet" 
 "Is she not handsomer to-day than yesterday? I in- 
 quired. " Are you not beginning to understand Mr. Del- 
 aware's infatuation ?" ^. 
 " I own it appears more luminous than formerly, Miss 
 
142 RENSHAWE, 
 
 ReDshawe, but a rival is necessary to develop it. How- 
 ever, you may say to ^liss Launey," he continued, in a 
 flippant tone, " that if she does not want a second edition 
 of that affair on her conscience, she must take care not 
 to warm fish-balls for anybody but your humble servant. 
 I'U forgive Mr. Golightly because he's dead, but that 
 must be the only exception." 
 
 "She is older than you, Mr. Tomlin." 
 
 " That's nothing." 
 
 " She was engaged to that Mr. Golightly." 
 
 " That is still less." 
 
 Mr. Shaker's step was on the stairs. I hastened to 
 speak, for I knew that Tomlin might not be in the mood 
 to listen readily again. 
 
 " Then," said I, earnestly, " by the di-ead of all that 
 awaits you, if this affair continues, whatever issue it 
 may take, I appeal from Tomlin drunk to Tomlin sober. 
 Go." 
 
 Tomlin looked up. " Will Mentor be kind enough to 
 throw his protegee off the rock ? Deeds, not words, will 
 seire me now. You have spoken well, Miss Renshawe, 
 but it is too late." 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 UITE an agitated appearance was presented by 
 Miss Launey when she ran in, an hour after din- 
 'ner, in the second toilette of the day. Something 
 new was on the eve of development. 
 
 "Never mind my dinner now, ^Irs. Judson, I must see 
 Miss Renshawe and you a little while. In the first place, 
 where is Mr. TomHn." 
 
 " Why, he's gone down the lot. Sing'lar's sot the 
 
BLUE HILLS. 143 
 
 swamps afire, and they've bui-nt clear over the four-acre 
 lot, and got up into Garniss's fields, an' there's a dozen 
 men there a-trjin to put it out, an' Tomlin's afeard Gar- 
 niss's barn'll git afire. I heerd ole Garniss a-swarin' 
 clar up here." 
 
 " Well, Mr. Tomlin won't be back very soon, will he ?'* 
 
 "Laws, no; not this four hours. Ef they git the fire 
 out by supper time they'll do well." 
 
 " Louisa, I have made a most awful discovery about 
 Mr. Tomlin ! Don't tell her, Mrs. Judson. It's what 
 you told me this morning. Let IMiss Renshawe guess." 
 
 I guessed everything I could think of in considerable 
 alarm. None of my surmises were correct. 
 
 Edith lowered her tone. " He has been a sailor f" 
 
 "Is that all?" said I, laughing. "Didn't you know it 
 before?" 
 
 " I might have known it," replied Edith. " He was so 
 absorbed in those sea tales of Cooper's that he could not 
 be divorced from the books. For three whole days he 
 was intent on them — liked them better than the other 
 novels. Did you not notice it ?" 
 
 "I thought him more interested in the Spy," said I. 
 "It is strange that you never knew he had been a 
 sailor." 
 
 " No, I never dreamed it, but that's not the matter in 
 hand now. What did Mr. Tomlin bring to the house — 
 what garments?" 
 
 " Nothing," said Mrs. Judson, " except what wus 
 on his back." 
 
 "Positively nothing?" 
 
 " No. When I fust seen him in this house, the day 
 arter that Good an' his company staid here all night, he 
 had on an ole gray fiannel shirt an' black trousers. Never 
 knowed he had a coat till he got hurt up to mother's, an' 
 some one hauled it out o' some closet. Seemed to think 
 
144 KENSHAWE. 
 
 more of liis boots than anythin' else. Goin' to make 
 him some clothes, Miss Launey ?" 
 
 " Nonsense, Mrs. Judson. The clothes he has on now 
 must have been somewhere then ?" 
 
 "Dry goods store at Blue Hills," said Mrs. Judson. 
 
 "]\Iiss Kenshawe cut 'em out, an' Sally an' I made 
 em. 
 
 "What is his Christian name?" asked Edith. 
 
 " Sam, or Jim. ^Miich is it, ^liss Eenshawe ?" 
 
 I did not know. Edith unfolded a handkerchief ^vith 
 a narrow vine on the border. " Did you ever see that 
 before, IMrs. Judson ?" 
 
 " Never. ]\Ii\ Shaker don't hev borders on his handker- 
 chiefs, and SiQg'lar Twist's is red silk. Must be Tomlin's, 
 I s'pose." 
 
 "J. B.," I said, looking in the corner. "That stands 
 for John Brown." 
 
 " It's very mysterious," said Edith, gi^avely; " don't 
 you think so, Louisa?" 
 
 " No. Tomlin lias probably exchanged handkerchiefs 
 with some man of those initials." 
 
 " That I might allow," said Edith, " except for one cir- 
 cumstance. The other da}" he was drawing diagrams, 
 added some flourishes in an absent way, and at last was 
 about to affix his name. He wi'ote a J. first, then a B, 
 and an K just following; but he recollected himself sud- 
 denly, and stopped." 
 
 " That justifies my surmise," said I. " His name must 
 be Brown." 
 
 Eor additional evidence, Edith examined IVIrs. Judson. 
 That worthy dame had very little to tell. 
 
 " Don't know nothin' about his secrets," said she; " he's 
 tattooed on his left shoulder with an anchor an' two let- 
 ters—not J. B., but H. J." 
 
 " Are you sui'e, IMrs. Judson, as to the letters ?" 
 
BLUE HILLS. 145 
 
 " Sai'tain. Must hev been H. J., for I asked him what 
 they stood for, and he said Highlow Jack." 
 
 This explauation was quite satisfactory, and Edith's 
 suspicions returned to J. B. She determined to investi- 
 gate the matter soon, and determined to press Mrs. Jud- 
 son into the service. A long conversation was held be- 
 tween them, of which I heard nothing, and I waited with 
 all the calmness of a disinterested spectator for the issue 
 of the trial. 
 
 I gathered that it was to take place that night, but 
 Mrs. Judson was too full of her usual cares to betray any 
 excitement beyond what they might legitimately call 
 forth. 
 
 ]VIi\ Shaker had been commending Singular for his 
 industry in having set out a whole bed of onions that 
 very forenoon. Mrs. Judson asserted that Singular loved 
 onions even more than he did sitting still, and that they 
 should have been in the ground more than a month ago. 
 When Singular was heard in the kitchen, he was called 
 on to answer a new charge. 
 
 "What's been the matter with the hens to-day, I won- 
 der ?" said the housekeeper. 
 
 "Sing'lar shet 'em up in the henroost," said Sally 
 Bunn. 
 
 " Sing'lar, Sing'lar Twist, what for did you shet up the 
 hens ?" demanded the authority of whom he stood most 
 in awe. They've been a-cackhn' all day long." 
 
 " Let 'em cackle," quoth Singular. 
 
 " Well, what did you shet 'em up for; can't you tell ?" 
 
 " Feared they'd git in and scratch up the onions," said 
 Singular. 
 
 " WTiy ain't you stopped up the fence ?" 
 
 " Hadn't nothin' to sto^D it with." 
 
 " Well, do you s'pect to keep them hens shet up till the 
 onions hev' grow'd ?" 
 7 
 
146 EENSHAWE. 
 
 " No. I only shet 'em up while I could git the brush 
 spread over the onions. S'pect I shall hev it got by to- 
 morrer." 
 
 Mrs. Judson groaned; but her groans on the score of 
 Singular were so usual as not materially to affect the 
 household. 
 
 Tea was unusually late that evening, and Mr. Sha- 
 ker, who was not very well, retired to his room before 
 the rest of the party had risen from the table. This 
 party consisted of his two fau' protegees, and Tomlin. 
 Mrs. Judson, sitting opposite her master, poured tea on 
 all occasions for both tables. Singular and Sally occu- 
 pied low seats behind the stove, never speaking above 
 their breath, except when Twist whispered some commis- 
 sion to Sally, which he was too lazy to execute himself. 
 
 After ]VIr. Shaker had withdi-awn, the conversation, 
 though from what source I did not notice, turned on ne- 
 cromancy. IMrs. Judson's beUef in it was aj^parently 
 strong. When she was a young girl she had gone to sev- 
 eral fortune tellers, and had been assured by every one 
 of them that she was destined to be a widow with one 
 son. One had told her she would be mai'ried twice, but 
 the second husband had not yet made his appearance. 
 Another astrologist, in his prognostications, had assui'ed 
 her she was to have a great deal of trouble. That was 
 as true as the Gospel. 
 
 "You tell fortius yerself, don't ye?" said Singular, 
 from his darkened recess. 
 
 ]\Irs. Judson said, with apparent reluctance to verge 
 on this branch of the subject, "I've tole a few.'* I\Iiss 
 Launey was at once all animation. 
 
 "Dear ]Mrs. Judson," she cried ; "tell ours now ; I am 
 so anxious to hear mine ! Here's my hand to begin with.'* 
 
 " Oh, I can't tell 'em off hands," said Mrs. Judson ; 
 "I had a pack of cards once, belonged to a fortune-teller. 
 
BLUE HILLS. 147 
 
 all spread over with red dragons, an' flyin' devils, an' 
 sech. But I tell 'em best off tea-grounds." 
 
 Miss Launey's eagerness was scarcely restrained. She 
 hui-ried round the table to inspect the tea-pot, and asked 
 questions with a spirit which lent such brightness to her 
 features that Tomhn's eyes were riveted. Mrs. Judson 
 uttered a httle mummery over the tea-pot, lifting the lid 
 thrice, and turning the vessel around as many times in 
 the coui'se of the incantation. 
 
 " You'll have your fortune told, won't you, Mr. Tomlin?" 
 said Edith, with a pleading look. 
 
 " Yes ; if you care to hear it," said that gentleman, 
 indifferently. 
 
 " Certainly, we do. Show Mr. Tomlin how to manage 
 his cup, IVIrs. Judson." 
 
 "Take car', Tomlin!" cried Mrs. Judson, as though 
 the matter was one of Hfe and death ; " you're pourin' 
 all the dregs out o' the cup ; must let 'em spread on the 
 sides. Don't tech your spoon to it ; let it go nateral. 
 Now put it upside down on the sosser, an' turn it round 
 three times, an' make a wish about sumthin'." 
 
 TomHn handed the cup to Mrs. Judson. It Avas in- 
 spected with all due solemnity, while the spectators were 
 all mute in rapt attention. 
 
 " Thar's a lady in the wish," announced the oracle, 
 " and the wish is a comin' to pass." 
 
 " I shall be sui-prised if it does," replied Tomlin ; " I 
 wished that Gusty might unlock the stable-door in the 
 morning, and harness himself to the box wagon." 
 
 IVIrs. Judson was a little disconcerted. " Shedn't teU 
 yer wish, Tomlen ; nothin' comes to pass when you've 
 tole of it." 
 
 " Go on, Mrs. Judson," said Edith, eagerly. 
 " You've ben a sailor," continued the housekeeper. 
 " The men at sea used to call you High-low Jack ; you've 
 
148 RENSHAWE. 
 
 got some friends a long way from here, and there's plenty 
 of money among 'em, too." 
 
 " It would be pleasant if they were not so far away," 
 remarked Tomhn. " What next ?" 
 
 "You've got a sister — one sister — can't tell whether 
 thar's any more or not ; but yer father has been dead 
 some years." 
 
 " I had not heard of it before," said the subject of the 
 oracle, " and it must be his ghost that I've taken for him 
 three or four months ago. What does the infallible cup 
 say further ? Is my mother married again ?" 
 
 "Your mother's name isn't Tomlen," pursued Mrs. 
 Judson. 
 
 " Then she must be married again ?" 
 
 "Your father's name isn't TomHn." 
 
 "Isn't, nor wasn't?" 
 
 "Isn't or wasn't — 'never was." 
 
 " That's the strangest announcement yet," said Tomlin. 
 " Make the tea leaves clear up that matter, IMi's. Judson ; 
 give them another shake ; perhaps they'll tell what my 
 father's name was, as weU as what it was not." 
 
 " Thar's a B in the cup," was the next proclamation. 
 
 " Dead or aUve ?" asked Tomlin. 
 
 "Not a honey-bee — a B in letters.'' 
 
 " Perhaps," said I, glancing at Edith, " that stands for 
 Belisarius." 
 
 Tomlin turned sideways with the table, taking a rung 
 of Mr. Shaker's vacated chau* for a footstool, suppoi*ted 
 his elbow on the leaf, and shaded his eyes with his hand. 
 Mrs. Judson proceeded. 
 
 " Seems to be more than one letter here : thar's a T, 
 and a J, and a B, here. T don't seem to be much — thar's 
 a good deal more Jim than thar is Tom. How's that, 
 Tomlen ?" 
 
 " Go on," said he. 
 
BLUE HILLS. 149 
 
 " Thar seems to be quite a family of 'em ; all B's, and 
 you wus bom at sea. Is that so ?" 
 
 " What makes you ask me if it's so ?" answered Tom- 
 lin ; " Can't you decide that yourself ?" 
 
 " You're going on a long journey." 
 
 "Laws !" exclaimed Singular, with more vivacity than 
 I had supposed him capable of ; "I hope he ain't a goin' 
 away from here." 
 
 " Sing'lar, you jest keep still ; s'pose you don't want 
 him to go ; how you do bother and put out ! Whar did 
 I leave off ? Oh, it says next, and the plainest thing of 
 all, that thar's sumthin' very heavy on your mind, and 
 you're haltin between two opinions." 
 
 "You treat entirely of the past," said Tomlin ; "I'd 
 like to hear about the future." 
 
 Mrs. Judson shook her head. " The future's black," 
 said she ; " you're goin' to do sumthin' you'll repent of, 
 very soon. It'll make you no end of trouble. Why, 
 Tomlin, you'll cuss yourself for it. The journey you'll 
 go on before long, and you'U go much easier than you'll 
 come. " 
 
 " That is usually the case with all my journeys," said 
 Tomlin, as he removed his hand from his face, and I fancied 
 that he was paler than usual. 
 
 Edith's cup was tendered next. I soon saw that the 
 young lady had not prompted this part of the prophecy. 
 "Mis. Judson assured her that she was in love. 
 
 " The gentleman's very good-lookin'," she said ; " got 
 brownish hair, an' wonderful percen' blue eyes, an' light 
 mestaches, an' he's five feet ten inches an' a half, an* he's 
 tattooed H. J., an' he war's flannel shirts, an' black " 
 
 " Mrs. Judson !" I exclaimed, seeing that Edith was 
 struggling for voice to interrupt, " do stop. Miss Launey 
 does not care for so explicit an oracle. The tea-grounds 
 can't give the hero's eyes and inches." 
 
150 RENSHAWE. 
 
 Edith coTild only look her thanks. I handed my cup 
 to the housekeeper. Probably in order to do as much 
 for me as for Miss Launey, ^Irs. Judson informed me 
 that I was very much in love with a gentleman who did 
 not as yet retui-n the attachment. 
 
 " If I knew where to find him," said Tomlin, "and 
 could have an hour's conversation with him, he would 
 not remain insensible to Miss Renshawe's merits, through 
 ignorance of their existence." 
 
 With this parting compliment, Tomlin left the table, 
 and drew back to the chimney-piece, where he stood 
 gravely in the shade, and after a few words to Sally, he 
 quitted the apartment. 
 
 "What did he say, Sally?" questioned ^Vliss Launey, 
 who had seemed very restless during the communication. 
 
 " Wants me to do up his white shirt, and have it ready 
 for to-morry mornin'. Thinks of goin' visitin' somewhar, 
 I guess." 
 
 Edith seemed distui'bed. A clatter in the kitchen soon 
 after, caught Mrs. Judson's attention. She opened the 
 door. 
 
 " Tomlin, you here a lightin' the dark lantern ? What's 
 that for?" 
 
 " Tell Singular to come out immediately — there are 
 thieves in the hen-roost." He vanished through the out- 
 side door. 
 
 " Sally," said Singular, " min up to my room an' fetch 
 down my black coat, while I light my pipe. I'm feai-ed 
 my white shirt '11 skeer the thieves." 
 
 " Go 'long out, Sing'lar," shouted ^Mrs. Judson, admin- 
 istering a strong impelling motive ; " don't you want to 
 skeer 'em. Tomlin's gone all alone ; they may kill him 
 for all you know." 
 
 Singular was urged on his way, while the excited 
 females gathered at the door of the kitchen, to learn the 
 
BLUE HILLS. 151 
 
 resiUt. Outside all was darkness and confusion, except 
 where the spark from Tomlin's lantern lit his way. The 
 hens kept up a vehement cackling. Mr. Shaker's voice 
 was just audible from an upper window, asking what was 
 the matter ; and Singular had barely passed the well- 
 pole, when the loud report of a pistol sounded at the 
 scene of disturbance. 
 
 " Laws, I hope Tomlin's other leg ain't shot," said Mrs. 
 Judson," or there'll be another month's job of it." 
 
 Tomhn's voice, calling to Singular, was next distin- 
 guishable. Some indistinct bustle ensued at the granary, 
 and Singular, turning around deliberately, remarked to 
 his auditors at the kitchen door — " I heerd a screech." 
 
 IVIi's. Judson, who had taken up the broomstick as a 
 weapon of defence, leveled it at Twist with so direct an 
 aim, as to cause him to quicken his pace. We waited for 
 some moments in anxious suspense, till the glimmering 
 rays of the lantern on the path betokened that some 
 intelKgence awaited us. In the meantime, Mr. Shaker 
 had made his way down stairs, in his . dressing-gown, 
 anxiously asking the cause of the trouble. 
 
 " Some half dozen robbers arter the hens," said Mrs. 
 Judson ; " and Tomlin's out thar seein' to 'em. Sing- 
 'lar's crawlin' round somwhar." 
 
 Singular soon appeared. Tomlin would be along di- 
 rectly, he said ; he was only talkin' to somebody out at 
 the fence, and the sound of two voices confirmed this 
 report, as well as the stationary gleam of the lantern, 
 which was poised on the distant fence. It was Tomlin's 
 pistol that had been fired. "We were all impatient for his 
 reappearance, and the door was thronged by an anxious 
 crowd, till a hasty step sounded on the pathway, and 
 Tomlin, extinguishing the lantern, came in, and led the 
 way to the back sitting-room. He stated that, having 
 heard a commotion at the henroost, he had gone out to 
 
152 RENSHAWE. 
 
 see what was the matter. Two men were making off 
 with a double prize of live hens. Tomhn had called to 
 them to drop their prey, but the call being utterly disre- 
 garded, he had discharged a pistol. He thought one had 
 been wounded, but at all events both of them had 
 dropped their booty, and made off. He was not of opinion 
 that they would trouble the henroost again that night. 
 
 " Who wus that ar','' asked ]SIrs. Judson, a-talkin' to 
 you at the fence?" 
 
 " That was Elisha," rejoined Tomlin. 
 
 " The zwave Ehsha ? you don't say so!" she exclaimed; 
 " why didn't you ask him to come in ?" 
 
 " He could not come in," answered Tomlin ; " he was 
 here with a message to me." 
 
 The late incident was productive of all the excitement 
 natui'al in any family whose peace had been disturbed. 
 Mr. Shaker seemed to think that something extra should 
 be done. He even said, that if he were not so very much 
 afraid of taking cold, he should bring down his blankets 
 and sleep on the settee. The conversation was carried 
 on collectively by every one but Tomlin, who stood read- 
 ing a letter at the table, and Edith, who sat regarding 
 him attentively. 
 
 "Does it not strike you," she said to me in a low 
 whisper, which the others were too engaged to notice, 
 " that Tomlin is offended with me ?" 
 
 I had not noticed, but Edith, who seemed much per- 
 turbed, came up to him, the moment the letter was 
 finished, and asking to speak to him, led him through the 
 hall to the piazza. As soon as they had gone, Singular, 
 with a very anxious look, after shutting all the doors, 
 raking the fire, shaking his head and sighing heavily, 
 declared that he was sorry to say it, but something in 
 the whole affair had a very bad look. 
 
 Men didn't run out to henroosts so sudden, exposing 
 
BLUE HILLS. 153 
 
 their lives to save a few hens ! 'twam't human natnr ! 
 and then what on airth was Tomlin out thar at the fence 
 talkin' so long to a man for, and if it wus the zouave 
 Elisha, why hadn't he come in ? 
 
 "Shol" ejaculated Mrs. Judson; "ungrateful creeter 
 yon air, Sing'lar ; arter all Tomlin's done for you, to 
 talk about him that way. S'pose his life to save hens ! 
 sartin he would. Hesn't he gone out in the pourin' rains 
 to save the httle chickens from gettin drowned, and put 
 'em in baskets behind the stove agin and agin ? Hasn't he 
 fed 'em ever since they wus hatched, and spent hours 
 teachin' 'em to go up into the roost o' nights, instead o' 
 flyin' on to the cherry trees? Who shed like the chick- 
 en's ef tain't Tomhn ? and ef you've fed or sheltered a 
 chicken for six weeks, my name ain't July Judson." 
 
 "Wall, thar now, woman talk" said Singular, sitting 
 up straight in his chair, while his eyes sparkled under 
 the broad brim of his straw hat. " Ef Tomlin's fed an' 
 basketed all the dyin' chickens in North Ameriky, it 
 don't hender what I'm a-sayin'. No, nor it don't neither. 
 And what I'm a-sayin is, fur a man to hear hens cacklin* 
 an' walk right inter a roost all fuU o' deadly robbers, 
 an' fire pistols, an' talk to a man at the fence, an' say 
 he shot two men, when nobody heerd the hens, or seed 
 the thieves at all, I say it's queer, an' so it is, darned queer." 
 
 "An' whose fault was it," cried Mrs. Judson, "that no- 
 body seed the thieves? Ef it hadn't been fur Tomlin, 
 every hen in the roost would hev ben kerried farther than 
 you'd ever a-gone arter 'em. Dear knows I shoved ye 
 along as far as sech a tawtis could move, and why wan't 
 you thar I say, helpin' pertect the property?" 
 
 "Well thar, don't holler so," rejoined Singular; "Tom- 
 lin's just outside thar, whar he'll hear it all, an' I don't 
 want him to know that I'm suspicionin' on him. Only I 
 say, I went as quick as I could, an' not a mortal thing 
 
154 RENSHAWE. 
 
 did I see, except him talkin' to some feller at the 
 fence." 
 
 Mr. Shaker's grave look was noted by Mrs. Judson 
 with rising indignation, but Tomlin and Edith came 
 back too soon to give her any time for her favorite's de- 
 fence. She looked unusuallv grim at the author of the 
 mischief. " Go lock the outhouses, Singular," she said ; 
 " see ef yer too afraid o' yer shadder for that : an' Sally, 
 ef Mr Tomlin's asked you to do anything for him, why 
 ain't you at it ? 
 
 Sally disappeared. Twist had risen, but as Tomlin 
 volunteered to lock the outhouses, sank back into his 
 seat. " Well then. Singular, go to bed," said Mrs. Jud- 
 son, and as Twist looked rebellious, she whispered some 
 private sentences, among which, some threats connected 
 with the cattle, bars, china tea-cup, and four acre lot, 
 were all I could distinguish. 
 
 Singular vanished with a crest-fallen air, and when 
 Tomlin returned from his tour of inspection at the out- 
 houses, Mrs. Judson officiously handed out from the closet 
 the Conic Sections, Button's Recreations, and the remains 
 of a huge clay cone which had undergone much mutilation. 
 
 "]Mr. Tomlin does not give me any lesson to-night, 
 Mrs. Judson," said Edith, gravely. 
 
 Tomlin intimated that he would be very happy to 
 give the lesson, but I\Iiss Launey di'ew away. Tomlin 
 did not press the matter, and the books lay unopened on 
 the table. A constraint seemed to have fallen on the 
 whole party. IMr. Shaker sat with an undecided air, 
 looking uneasily at Tomlin; that gentleman's gravity was 
 quite equaled by !Miss Launey's. Mrs. Judson was 
 grim, and after volunteering one or two remarks, scarcely 
 answered. I partook the general silence. 
 
 "Help! help !" was suddenly called from anu]3per win- 
 dow; "July, Tomlen, fetch a light^come quick — quick.'* 
 
BLUE HILLS. 155 
 
 "Laws, what's got hold o' Sing'lar?" exclaimed Mrs. 
 Judson. 
 
 Tomlin caught the light and ran up stairs, followed by 
 the housekeeper. Mr. Shaker shook like an aspen leaf. 
 Edith and I were considerably agitated. In the commo- 
 tion up-stairs, nothing could be heard from below, and 
 we could only bear the suspense as patiently as possible. 
 
 "Tomhn is in league with some outsiders," Mr. Shaker 
 burst forth at last. " I shall charge him with it when he 
 comes down. Stop Edith, don't detain me, it is my 
 duty to go up, child; they may have killed JiiHa and 
 Singular both, by this time." 
 
 Steps sounding above, promised to end the suspense. 
 !Mi's. Judson's voice and Tomlin's laugh were reassuring. 
 Mr. Shaker looked quite bewildered as they came down 
 together as composed as usual. 
 
 " Did you find him— the man — where was he ?" he asked. 
 
 " He wus under the bed," said Mrs. Judson, stiffly. 
 " Boots stuck out a half a yard. TomHn hauled hold of his 
 heels, an' we pulled him out and killed him; vest wus full 
 o' knives an' daggers. Don't know what would hev' be- 
 come of Sing'lar." 
 
 Kendered quite tumultuous by these ironic observations, 
 Mr. Shaker demanded more forcibly what was the matter. 
 
 " Only a wasp that Sing'lar smelt— didn't sting him ; 
 he hollered afore he was hurt." 
 
 This explanation had come none too soon for my com- 
 fort. Mr. Shaker had just been looking daggers at Tom- 
 lin, and though the fact had escaped the young gentle- 
 man, Mrs. Judson had noted it. 
 
 Edith came to my room as soon as I had gone thither, 
 to give me the details of her conference with Mr. Tomlin. 
 Her opinion that she had offended him was not a mis- 
 taken one. Mr. Tomlin had acknowledged at once, that 
 she was quite correct in the impression. If she had any 
 
156 RENSHAWE. 
 
 curiosity connected with him, why had she attempted to 
 satisfy it in such a roundabout way? If she wanted to 
 know any more about him than she knew already, she 
 might have come to him to discover it. He could see no 
 excuse for her conduct at aU, except in his firm conviction 
 that women were made for intrigue. 
 
 Edith was moreover sure that ]Mr. Tondin would never 
 have laid the matter so heavily to heart, if there had not 
 been something concealed. She thought he was some 
 officer of rank, or state official in disguise. 
 
 " Perhaps he is the Piince of Wales," said I. 
 
 Edith was fuUy persuaded that he was not James Tom- 
 lin. Her reason was given as conclusive. "We have 
 never heard of any Tomlin, Louise," she said, " and such 
 a man as he is, has made a name somewhere. Think 
 how much he knows, and what he can do !" 
 
 "Yes," I said ; " think of the three clocks, and aU the 
 chickens ! He will make his mark in the world." 
 
 Edith shook her head solemnly, but wasted no farther 
 argument in favor of the disguise. 
 
 Tomlin was the last one up in the domicile. Either 
 solicitude for its safety, or some more selfish motive, kept 
 him on inspection, and it was after midnight when he 
 passed my door. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 )RS. JTJDSON made an early apjDeal to ]Mi\ Shak- 
 er's better nature. Early the next morning, she 
 assailed the quiet of his study, and their conver- 
 sation was plainly audible to me through the open doors 
 of the upper hall. 
 
 " Wouldn't hev " TomUn know how " Sing'lar talked for 
 anj'thing," she said. "Most ongrateful feller! I couldn't 
 
BLUE HILLS. 157 
 
 forget it, ef anyone had done so much for me ! Jest con- 
 sider, Mr. Shaker! Ef TomHn was in league with thieves, 
 why did he Hght a lantern, an' caU Sing'lar, and fire a 
 pistol? I wouldn't be so tied to Sing'lar's button-hole, 
 Mr. Shaker." 
 
 " Singular is very valuable," said Mr. Shaker earnestly, 
 ''and this past month, especially, he has been of incalcu- 
 lable service to me ; you must have some gratitude towards 
 him, JuHa. Only consider — he has close-mowed the 
 lawn beautifully, and tied up aU the bushes, and staked 
 the young trees. The place reaUy looks like fai?y-land." 
 "Now, cried Mrs. Judson, "hez that feUer imposed on 
 you so shameful as that, Mr. Shaker ? I'm jest goin' to 
 expose that man! For the last month Sing'lar has done 
 nothin' on earth but lounge in the kitchen, and chaw 
 tobaccy. Ef he hears you a-comin' he'U go to overhaul- 
 ing the wood in the wood-box, or fussin' on the shelf, as 
 though he jest stepped in a-lookin' for suthin' ; but not a 
 tree, nor a strawberry-bed, nor a thing in the garden, 
 from one end to t'other, hez he teched, nor a boss nor a 
 cow, nor a hen, nor a hen's nest, nor a hoe, nor a water- 
 pail, nor an airthly thing in any outhouse or granary, or 
 cow-house, or stable. Miss Renshawe was sayin' only 
 yesterday how he made her think of one of the Easy's 
 fables, whar Tiberus Cesar ran roun' the garden with a 
 waterin'-pot every time he saw his master comin.' That's 
 as much Singular Twist, as though 'twas writ for him." 
 " Who has done it, pray?" asked Mr. Shaker, astonished. 
 "Why, Tomlin!" shouted Mrs. Judson with emphasis, 
 "ever since he's been able to get out of doors! Smg'- 
 lar's nicely set to work to be abusing Tomlin, I think. Oh, 
 Mr. Shaker! sech things as I could tell you about Sing'- 
 lar, only I promised Tomlin I wouldn't! but if I don't 
 say nothin' of that I will speak up for Tomlen ; an' I say, 
 Mr. Shaker, that I never know'd anybody that was better. 
 
158 EENSHAWE. 
 
 He helps me every airthly way he can. He's a gentle- 
 man, every inch of him. It ain't this di*ivin' fast horses, 
 an' shootin' of swallers an' robins, makes a gentleman, 
 Mr. Shaker; but it's yer nateral born gentleman, that 
 comes an' takes the pail from an old woman like me, an' 
 kerries it, an' that's all the time a-thinkin' of everybody 
 else, an never of himself, an' that's the sort of gentleman 
 he is ; I don't care if he hasn't two cents in his pocket." 
 
 " Why, Julia," said 'Mx. Shaker, " you need not try to 
 point out Tomlin's good qualities to me. I know them 
 all — many more than you see in him." 
 
 "Then if you see more good in him than I do, Mr. 
 Shaker, it's very surprisin' you hstened to Sing'lar, an' that 
 you know you did. You'll hev to choose atween Tomhn 
 an' Sing'lar, Mr, Shaker." 
 
 " Choose !" cried 'Mjc. Shaker, " why, Julia, there can be 
 no choice between them. They are not to be mentioned 
 together! Tomhn is quite superior to Singular." 
 
 " Superer to Sing'lar, wal — I shed think he was !" 
 
 " Listen, Juha, I am about to tell you why. He is an 
 educated man, and he has quite a mechanical genius — 
 his skill in mathematics is really surprising." 
 
 "And thar's the clocks, ]Mi\ Shaker!" 
 
 " Yes, you probably think more of the clocks than the 
 problems. It is only natui'al that you should. Of course, 
 Tomhn is quite beyond comparison with Singular ; but I 
 was influenced by Singular because, although he is veiy 
 slow, his intuitions are marvelously correct. He under- 
 stands something of human nature." 
 
 "Wal, ]Mi'. Shaker, ef ye'll. excuse me, I'll jest say he 
 don't. He takes his own natur for key, an' winds up 
 everybody's clock. ]Mr. Shaker, the biggest rogue I ever 
 seen, was all the time a-tellen* how much he knowd of 
 human natur, and he never would believe that anybody 
 on airth would teU the truth whar it advantaged 'em to 
 
BLUE HILLS. 159 
 
 tell a lie ; and he stuck to that for a principle, an' never 
 would trust the honestest man breathin' ! An Sing'lar 
 Twist could not see into it, nor over it, nor round it, 
 how Tomlen shed go into that henroost, just 'cause he 
 hadn't the pluck to go himself ! An' then sot by the fire 
 an' tole how 'twan't human natur 'caase it wasn't his'n. 
 ]\Ir. Shaker, thar's honest natur, thar's dishonest natur, 
 and kind natur, and unkind natur, an' it may be all 
 human natur ; but thar's no judgin' one man's human 
 natur by another man's, for thar's a thousand kinds of 
 human nature. What's more, all the ^.eddy on airth 
 will never larn human natur — it's observation you git it 
 by, an' it's different in every man you meet ; and 'cause 
 you ain't Hke another man an' ain't got the key to his 
 natur in yer own, its unaccountable to you what he'U do 
 next, an' you can't teU, unless you've seen him tried." 
 
 Mr. Shaker had Hstened quite patiently to this ha- 
 rangue. The housekeeper leveled another shaft. 
 
 " Then thar's all yer books that Miss Renshawe saved 
 for you, up to Caney Fork — an' she thinks Tomlin's mag- 
 nificent. How she'd feel ef you thort he stole hens ?" 
 
 Mr. Shaker was fairly exasperated. 
 
 " Miss Renshawe, I know, thinks well of Tomlin ; and 
 the dear girl did save my books, as I shall never forget ; 
 but if she had never seen Tomlin, it would not alter my 
 opinion of him ; and that opinion of him is good, Julia ! 
 Stole hens — nonsense ! I never thought any such thing ! 
 A man thoroughly versed in conic sections, navigation, 
 and surveying, steal hens! You are more absurd than 
 Singular ! 
 
 " Then what made you give him sech black, suspicious 
 looks last night ? ]Mr. Shaker, if you'd a-thort he was 
 deahn' with Satan you couldn't a-been more overcast. 
 And we heered you say somethin' when we was comin' 
 down about league with robbers. Mi\ Shaker, the way 
 
160 RENSHAWE. 
 
 you treated him last night hurt his feelings, I know, 
 though he said nothin' about it." 
 
 *' Well, I was misled for a few minutes, but I will en- 
 deavor to atone to-day. I assui-e you, Julia, he needs no 
 defence fi'om you; I am growing more attached to him 
 daily, and if he will consent to remain here through the 
 summer, I shall propose to adopt him for my son." 
 
 " Ter son ! Laws, ^Ir. Shaker, it's too late to be talkin' 
 that way. He's a-goin' away to-day. Just told me so 
 down stairs." 
 
 " Going away ! What ! No — impossible ! He can't 
 leave in this abrupt way. I have had no warning !" 
 
 " Warnin' ! You don't pay him a salary, do you ? He 
 thinks he's been a burden to you. I s'pose he thort — " 
 
 jMr. Shaker di'owned the rest of this speech by a hur- 
 ried putting away of books and audible mournings. ]Mi's. 
 Judson retreated with a low chuckle, and muttered, 
 " Ain't a bit sori-y for you!" as she descended. 
 
 The news she had just communicated filled me with 
 regi-et. I came down as soon as possible. IMrs. Judson 
 was busied in preparing breakfast, and I hastened to the 
 garden, where Tomlin was raking a small patch of fi-eshly 
 moved earth, at which he had been busy for an hour. 
 
 " Ai'e you going to day, Mr. Tomlin ?" I asked. 
 
 "Yes; you've resigned guardianship, and I must take 
 refuge in flight. You are a faithless Mentor, ^liss Ren- 
 shawe. Here's your Telemachus in the toils of Calypso, 
 and you regard his fate wholly unmoved." 
 
 " If Telemachus is so well able to save himself, he does 
 not need my counsel. But you leave the garden all 
 planted, Mr. Tomlin. You should stay to put in the suc- 
 cessions; everything will come at once." 
 
 " I know; but Judson says she will sell all that is going 
 to waste of the first crop, and buy of the neighbors later 
 in the summer." 
 
BLUE HILLS. 161 
 
 Mrs. Judson called us to breakfast, and we went in. 
 Mr. Shaker seemed quite overcome by remorse. His at- 
 tentions to Tomlin were unceasing. Too much could 
 not be done for the departing guest, nor could his merits 
 be too highly exalted. Edith seemed quite miserable. 
 Singular had relented on the news. He walked about 
 sadTy, and declared that he could not tell what he was 
 going to do without TomHn— what Gusty was going to 
 do— what the chickens were going to do. 
 
 "Chickens was alius a-flockin' arter his heels every 
 time he stepped out," said Singular, " an' Gusty'll miss 
 him powerful!" 
 
 " It's your fault he's a-goin," said the housekeeper. 
 "Oh, no," exclaimed Tomlin. "I belong to the army, and 
 my furlough is nearly out, that's aU. Elisha brought me 
 word last night; and I must go to Baltimore a few days 
 before I rejoin my regiment." 
 
 For two hours that morning Tomlin remained steadily in 
 the garden— at ten o'clock closed the gate for the last time. 
 I fancied, as he stood contemplating the scene of his late 
 labors, that some regret was visible in his face, whether in 
 the prospect of leaving the garden to Singular's mercies, 
 or by reason of the associations it called up. He gath- 
 ered up spade, rake, and hoe from their poise against the 
 fence with a nervous hand, and consigned them to the 
 granary as though he expected they would not soon be 
 disturbed. He threw a handful of corn to the chickens, 
 watched them as they picked it up, and only stopping at 
 the kennel to pat the dog on the head, sauntered into 
 the house. 
 
 "Come arter some fire to Hght my pipe," said Mrs. 
 Judson. I stood leaning from the window. " Tomlin, 
 ken you rake me out a coal ?" 
 
 " I can light a match," replied the young gentleman, as 
 he struck several on the hearthstone. Edith came out- 
 
162 RENSHAWE. 
 
 side the window. At first glance she thought me alone 
 in the room. ^Irs. Judson was quite out of sight, and 
 Tomlin's position concealed his presence. 
 
 "You don't seem to partake the general sorrow," I 
 remarked, seeing that she appeai'ed quite calm. 
 
 " Oh, Louisa, can my face so belie my heart ? Not a 
 soul in the house is so unhappy as I." 
 
 " Take care, Tomlin, you burnt my fingers !" exclaimed 
 the housekeeper. Edith colored deeply, and walked off 
 to the lawn with the gait that was usual to her states of 
 perturbation. 
 
 *' I am sorry I burnt you, lilxa. Judson," said Tomlin, 
 apologetically. **! must speak to Miss Launey a min- 
 ute." 
 
 *' Very pale, and quite dehberate, Tomlin followed Edith 
 to the gate. At ihat point they stc^Dped, and a dialogue, 
 which did not lack the feature of earnestness, ensued. 
 The housekeeper noted the interview with marked unea- 
 siness. 
 
 " He can't be such a born fool as to go to making love 
 to her noiv, can he, think. Miss Renshawe ? I must say 
 that if ever I seen a woman detarmined to entangle a 
 man, it's Miss Launey." 
 
 I remained very thoughtful on the subject tiU a step 
 outside the window called my attention. Tomlin was 
 coming up. The look he gave me was a revelation. 
 
 " You have not asked her to marry you?" I exclaimed. 
 
 " Yes — I really could not go without it." 
 
 " But you have not obtained Mr. Shaker's consent ?" 
 
 " I am going up now to obtain it. She's going to man- 
 age the rest. She has a dozen or more uncles and guar- 
 dians. Tkliss Renshawe, I await your congratulations." 
 
 " I will congratulate her, not you," I said, impulsively. 
 " My honest sentiment is that you are throwing yourself 
 away." 
 
BLUE HILLS. 163 
 
 " Thanli you," replied Tomlin. " You may see tlie sac- 
 rifice spared as it is. Where's Mr. Shaker? In the 
 study ?" 
 
 TomHn was in the study some time. When the inter- 
 view was concluded he found me waiting to learn the 
 result of the application. 
 
 " It's a desperate case now," said he, with a smile. 
 " Mr. Shaker gave her at once with his benediction; but 
 he is in that frame of mind in which he would part with 
 half his hbrary if I asked it." 
 
 " Where is your Dulcinea ?" 
 
 " Gone to dress for an interview with me. You may 
 take my arm up to the woods in the mean time, and I'll 
 have a cigar before she reappears." 
 
 We walked back and forth for some time, as I did not 
 care to lose sight of the house, lest Edith should return 
 and find her lover away. 
 
 " I did not ask if you object to walking with me lq this 
 coat," said TomHn, " but you care less for externals, I 
 beheve, than IVIiss Launey does." 
 
 "Did she speak of a coat, Mr. Tomlin?" 
 
 " Oh, certainly, she's sensible to the last. She told me 
 I should not have proposed in my old coat." 
 
 Edith's toilette was made in fifteen minutes, and I 
 resigned my companion. 
 
 " Tomlin seems to hev a faculty of bewitchin' the 
 females somehow," said Mrs. Judson to me. " Sally gives 
 up to a cryin' fit every time I mention him, an' Miss 
 Edith — really, between you an' me, I think she's out of 
 her head. She's put on the very best dress she's got, an' 
 her dimond earrings, an thar she's settiu' on the bench 
 under the maples back o' the garden, talkin' over some- 
 thki' very particular. G-ot her best lace pocket handker- 
 chief, too, a techin' it up to her eyes. Couldn't hardly 
 credit my senses." 
 
164 RENSHAWE. 
 
 " Not feeling at liberty to proclaim the engagement, I 
 asked what she thought of the chances of its taking 
 place. 
 
 "I siispicioned that they were engaged," said 'Mrs. 
 Judson, " but I can't really think TomHn would be such 
 a fool. He's young, an' likely-looking, an' smart, so Mr. 
 Shaker says, an' she's aggravatin' an' full o' notions. 
 "What sort of a wife would she make for him ? Why, if 
 I wus he, I'd rather marry Sally." 
 
 The hapjDy couple remained undisturbed until dinner- 
 time, when Edith was obliged to spare her lover to other 
 eyes. She appeared the most insensible of the company 
 to the approaching calamity. Perhaps I did her injus- 
 tice, but it seemed that the sorrow which she did mani- 
 fest was mainly forced for the occasion. 
 
 Tomlin left as soon after dinner as he could gather to- 
 gather the few articles which he intended to take. The 
 remainder were bestowed promiscuously through the 
 family. Some private adieus were Edith's portion, on 
 which the parlor door was closed; and by after tokens I 
 judged that her lace handkerchief had been called fre- 
 quently into requisition. Tomlin took me aside before 
 bidding adieu to the rest of the family. 
 
 " I have one request to make of you in parting," he 
 said; "it is simply this: that whatever hard things may 
 be said of me hereafter, wherever you hear my name 
 mentioned, you will suspend your judgment until you 
 can give me an opportunity for seK defence." 
 
 I promised to heed this charge, and Tomlin continued: 
 
 "We have lived here so quietly for the last month, that 
 I have not realized until this time how highly I regard 
 every member of this family. To your faith and courage 
 I am indebted for my life; in acknowledging that debt I 
 can only say, that if you need a fi'iend, or rather a broth- 
 er, I beg you will remember who would serve you ; and if 
 
BLUE HILLS. 
 
 165 
 
 we never meet again, you may know that one man lives, 
 who holds yoiu' interests as dear as his own, and who will 
 bless you with his latest breath." 
 
 After this conference, Tomlin hurried to bid the rest of 
 the family farewells of a more racy character. Before I 
 knew it they were over, and he was soon disappearing 
 down the path to the village, where Sunset had been 
 stabled since the unlucky day of his escape with Gusty. 
 
 Tomlin left behind him saddened hearts. Edith retir- 
 ed to her room to indulge her melancholy, Mrs. Judson's 
 apron was at her eyes, and Sally, hiding her head behind 
 the table, sobbed outright. 
 
 "Kindest hearted feUer ever lived," said Mrs. Judson. 
 " Kissed Sally an' me too, when he went away." 
 
 " Tole me to take care o' the chickens," said Sally, " an' 
 so I will. Ga-me me silver dollar, an' I'll bore a hole in't, 
 an' wear it roun' my neck." 
 
 "Lef me his coat," sighed Singular. "Dear, dear! 
 s'pose I've got to be feedin' chickens agin, an' ketchin' 
 Gusty, an' it's drefful bad work for me to ketch him; he 
 runs an' runs so, an' won't be coaxed 'cept Tomlin 
 coaxes him." 
 
 Eegrets were general. I was quite depressed by the 
 loss to the family circle. Mr. Shaker, after expatiating 
 on his regret, as, according to his statement, Tomlin had 
 been more than a son to him, took his way to his room. 
 
 Tomlin was sadly missed. Edith, in particular, grew 
 very disconsolate; but her desolation was manifested by 
 an increase of affectation, and an increase of sentiment- 
 alism. 
 
 The engagement was soon confided to me. Edith in- 
 formed me that Tomlin had scarcely said a word of his 
 circumstances or prospects, and did not expect to see her 
 again before Christmas. 
 
 His first letter arrived in the course of a week, and 
 
166 RENSHAWE. 
 
 as it contained kind remembrances for all the family, 
 Edith was well burdened with responses to go in her next 
 epistle. 
 
 That evening, when the letter was answered, and all 
 these messages had received attention, Edith demanded 
 whether I had anything to say in reply to mine. I 
 answered rashly: 
 
 "Ask !Mr. Tomlin, in my name, where he became ac- 
 quainted with Ahce Ludlow.-" 
 
 Edith was curious, but I adhered strictly to the terms 
 of the message, without vouchsafing any explanation. 
 
 I repented this message. A presentiment seemed con- 
 nected with it, and I actually asked Edith to copy her 
 letter again, and omit it. She was just coming in from a 
 morning walk. 
 
 " You make no allowance for the punctuality of people 
 in love," she said, laughing. "My letter is just posted, 
 and off the fii'st mail." 
 
 I looked for the answer with anxiety, certainly equal 
 to her own, but days passed, and the answer came not. 
 
 CHAPTER XVn. 
 
 |N the gi'eat hall clock of the second story, the hour 
 of midnight had sounded. I had gone to rest in 
 an uneasy frame of mind, and it seemed for some 
 time impossible to get asleep. With the dying sound 
 of the clock's vibration, I sank into sliunber, and in the 
 semi-conscious state between waking and sleeping, my 
 brain was visited by visions that partook the reality of 
 life, and the vagueness of a dream. It seemed that a 
 low moan sounded over the distant plain on which the 
 moon's half-circle shone ; the moon grew more distinct 
 
BLUE HILLS. 167 
 
 and nearer, till it rose into the distinct and plaintive low- 
 ing of a cow. The confusion grew more bewildering and 
 intense, till the prevailing feature of the scene was cattle 
 everywhere. I was in a dark, moonless forest, the 
 ominous head and horns of a bull shadowed forth under 
 every tree, with faces, white and black, red and speckled, 
 and their deep voices, alternating with a bellow and a 
 whine, sounding painfully distinct in my ear. 
 
 I was startled by a shake of the shoulder. Mrs. Jud- 
 son was at my bedside, and while I rubbed my eyes with 
 confusion, the same noises as those of a herd, continued 
 to assail my faculties, through the open windows. I was 
 fairly awake. " What is the matter," I exclaimed, trust- 
 ing that the sound of my own voice might decide whether 
 I was the sport of an illusion, 
 
 " Lord knows," repKed Judson, sententiously. " Eoad*s 
 fuU o' cattle — men a prowlin' round the yard. I didn't 
 dare to light a candle. What shall we do ?" 
 
 "Eouse Singular," I said, "and I'U si^eak to Mr. 
 Shaker." 
 
 Hurrying on a part of my clothes, I went into Mr. Sha- 
 ker's door, and rousing him to consciousness, made 
 known the state of the case. 
 
 " Call Tomlin," was his first exclamation. " You can't, 
 though, he's gone, poor fellow ; now we are indeed de- 
 serted !" 
 
 I hurried next to inspect the state of affairs outside 
 fi'om the windows of Tomlin's vacated apartment. Mrs. 
 Judson's appeal to Twist was quite audible from the attic. 
 
 " Sing'lar, Sing'lar, what on airth — ain't you ever goin' 
 to get up ? I tell you there's men a-pryin' round the 
 stables, an' cattle all over the neighborhood." 
 
 " I can't help it," cried^ Singular. " How you do talk. 
 I sent SaUy to lock up the stables; they can't get iu if 
 they try." 
 
168 KENSHAWE. 
 
 The figui'es of tlu'ee men were now dimly seen ap- 
 proaching from the stables. They drew up under the 
 window whereat I was stationed. 
 
 "I say, hallo there !" 
 
 " What's wantinV' demanded IVIrs. Judson, who, giv- 
 ing up SiQgular ill despair, came as an auxiliary. 
 
 "Is Tomhn here — J. Tomlin, Esq?"* demanded the 
 stranger. 
 
 "I'm soiTy to say he esn't. Want to see him ?" 
 
 Some parley ensued among the party. A second ques- 
 tion followed. 
 
 "When did he go?" 
 
 "This mornin'. I forget when, exactly," returned 
 Judson, adding, in an aside to me, " Southern gawrillers, 
 I reckon." 
 
 The three men again held a conference. A call from 
 the fence attracted their attention. " Simpson, are you 
 going to be all night ? 
 
 "Turn 'em in," emanated from this respectable body 
 below the window. I heard the swing of the gi'eat gates, 
 the dim white horns glancing past the fences, and the 
 tramp of hoofs with the dismal bellowing, joined to the 
 curses of the drivers, came up from the inclosure, where 
 the foiTQs of the red bmtes and theu- muzzles on the fence 
 were scarcely outlined in the dim hght of the crescent 
 moon. 
 
 "Well, this is gloris biziness," said INIrs. Judson, who, 
 with her arms restiag en the window sill, had contem- 
 plated these movements. " War is on the kentry power- 
 ful ; I wish I was back to the Noth." 
 
 " Good heavens!" !Mr. Shaker almost shrieked. " Are 
 these men crazy with audacity, to tui'n a herd of cattle on 
 my premises in this way ? Go to them, Julia, and tell 
 them who lives here." 
 
 " I 'spect they know that well enough; been askin' for 
 
BLUE HILLS. luO 
 
 Tomlin. Lucky he ain't here, I guess they meant to 
 take him off." 
 
 "And the stable door open!" exclaimed Mr. Shaker; 
 " and the barn — who gave them the key ?" 
 
 "Never asked for none ; worried 'em open theirselves; 
 they's a kind that doesn't stop for keys. Seem to be 
 runnin' into the gi*anary an' cow-houses." 
 
 "Thieves and plunderers, bloody rascals!" said ^Mr. 
 Shaker. " I shall shut myself in the Hbrary and remain 
 there. Satisfy their demands, Juha, and if they can be 
 sent away peaceably, send them." 
 
 Determined to perish in the midst of his books, Mr. 
 Shaker drew away in the silence of heroism. Another 
 messenger came to the back door, where he rattled 
 tumultuously. 
 
 " Say, why the devil don't you open your doors ? Say, 
 we're goin' up to the dram-shop, and meantime you must 
 kill a dozen cocks an' make us a pot-pie. Stir yerselves 
 now, and don't let us catch you with the stuff not done 
 when we come back." 
 
 "Now I'm set to work," said Mrs. Judson, clambering 
 up the staircase. " Whar's Sally ? a sleepin' through all 
 this row ? Sing'lar, I s'pect, ain't got one stockin' on yet. 
 Miss Kenshawe, ef you'll call Sally to know what she 
 did with the axe, I'll get the fire goin'. Then I must go 
 through all those live horns arter the chickens. Lord 
 help us, what is the kentry comin' to ?" 
 
 I soon roused Sally, who scuttled directly into her 
 clothes. The fire was kindled, the hens caught and 
 dispatched, and stripped as fast as three pair of hands 
 could bring it to pass. Our expedition, great as it 
 was, we feared would not meet the emergency. 
 
 " You see it's impossible for me to make those chick- 
 ens boil any faster than they can," said she. The hour 
 passed, and as Mrs. Judson was lifting the heavy kettles 
 8 
 
170 RENSHAWE. 
 
 off the fire, a clatter at the porch announced the return 
 of the cattle drovers, 
 
 " Miss Kenshawe, you take Sally up to the libry, an' 
 stay thar," said the housekeeper; "out o' the way o' 
 them vagabonds. I'll take care on 'em down here. 1 
 called Miss Launey, but I reckon she's a-di'essin' yet. I 
 see she's commenced to haul out her brushes an' cums." 
 
 IMiss Launey was with Mr. Shaker in the library- 
 Both were highly ax^prehensive of the result of this 
 noctui'nal visit. The tumult in the kitchen was such as 
 to reach our ears, distinctly inspiring emotions of a 
 painful kind. Coarse shouts, boisterous songs, and rude 
 hilarity, divided its character. And afterward the sound 
 of some hea^y object rolled on the floor, attracted our 
 attention. Our suspense was relieved, or rather termin- 
 ated, by IVIrs. Judson. 
 
 " Act like so many devils incarnate," she said ; 
 "slammed all the pot-pie they couldn't eat, over the wall 
 and winders, an' upset the soup on th^e carpet. They've 
 gone down cellar now to see what thar is thar, and I 
 s'pect they'll kerry all afore 'em, Sing'lar's gone to show 
 *em the way; they'll deal very massiful with him, I 
 s'pose." 
 
 " I hope so," sighed Mr. Shaker, " but I trust he will 
 not bring any of them to the library." 
 
 A call utterecTby Singular, fi'om the head of the stair- 
 way, summoned ]\Ii'S. Judson. " Hurry July," he said ; 
 "the captain is come, and you've got to get supper for 
 him." 
 
 "A captain too, eh?" exclaimed Mr. Shaker; "this 
 appears to be a serious matter." 
 
 " Seris enough ef he wants anything to eat," said Mrs. 
 Judson ; " but thar seems to be a lull out thar ; I hope 
 he's makin' 'em behave." 
 
 The lull did not last long, however. The clamor grew 
 
BLUE HILLS. 171 
 
 excessive ; a voice made itself heard at last, in accents 
 which sounded familiar to me ; a step sounded in the 
 hall, the door of the hbrary opened, and an officer in 
 uniform crossed the threshold. Almost stunned by the 
 recognition, I could scarcely repress the name at my lips 
 " Captain Charles Berkley." It was the same slight and 
 gTaceful figure, the same unmistakable lineaments, the 
 cold blue eye, the soft and cruel Hps, the thin spare fea- 
 tures and closely cropped hair. Captain Berkley just 
 touched his military cap in acknowledgment of the 
 presence of ladies, then taking a little book from his belt, 
 and a pencil from behind his ear, he addressed Mr. Shaker. 
 
 " What is your name, sir ?" 
 
 It was given. 
 
 " And what place is this ?" 
 
 The place was suppHed. Captain Berkley noted both 
 these items, remarking : 
 
 " We are under the necessity of taking away three 
 cows and one horse found on your premises." 
 
 "Good heavens!" exclaimed 'Mi\ Shaker; "you may 
 have the cows, sir, but it's the worst possible measure to 
 take Gusty ; I really must object to that; he's spavined 
 in the left hind leg, and can't hve twenty miles of the 
 journey." 
 
 " He does seem to be like an old rack of bones to be sure," 
 repHed Captain Berkley, still proceeding with his notes, 
 " but I think I can overrule your objection. One of the 
 baggage horses has just died, and your nag must replace 
 him as long as he lasts. I've booked your cattle, and if 
 you will give your estimate of their worth, I will charge 
 it to the account of the Confederate States." 
 
 "When am I to be paid?" asked Mr. Shaker, anx- 
 iously. 
 
 " AVhen the war is over, sir," returned Berkley ; " so 
 put on your price." 
 
172 RENSHAWE. 
 
 "It will be all the same," I remarked ; " whether that 
 is much or little." 
 
 ]VIr. Shaker looked at me bewildered. 
 
 " We are all good secessionists here sir, he said ; 
 " every one of us devoted to the Confederacy, and it wiU 
 owe us some gratitude as weU as money. The cows 
 are worth about forty dollars apiece, and I think Gusty, 
 having been a very good horse in his day, should be 
 valued at about a hundred and twenty-five. 
 
 "Pshaw!" ejaculated Captain Berkley; whose pencil 
 stopped while his blue eyes tiu'ned to Mr. Shaker's face. 
 " That's too flagrant a shave. Very devoted you must 
 be to the Confederacy, to put on such a price." 
 
 " I am devoted to the Confederacy," said Mr. Shaker, 
 bringing down his cane with emphasis on the floor ; but 
 I think a gi'eat deal of Gusty, and I know if he's driven 
 before a baggage wagon he'll have to travel fast, and 
 he's not used to that sir, for my man Twist is a moderate 
 driver. Then, again, your soldiers will neglect to give 
 him his oats, (your men are very careless,) and he won't 
 be used to his stable, and he'll be very homesick. I would 
 rather give you his price sir in gold on the spot, and 
 though I won't say anything about the cows, I should 
 think you had cattle enough in my yards to feed the 
 whole Southern Confederacy." 
 
 "Gold on the spot, eh?" echoed Berkley ; "well, pay 
 it over and you may keep your horse at your own price, 
 a hundi'ed and twenty-five dollars. I can buy as good a 
 one for ten." 
 
 " How much ?" cried INIr. Shaker, aghast. " My dear sir, 
 I — I — I really — why I should think you might be content 
 to let me keep him at half price. Gusty is quite an ex- 
 pensive horse. Sixty-two dollars I will J3ay you directly. 
 Remember, we are good secessionists. There's our flag 
 in the corner." 
 
BLUE HILLa 173 
 
 "I see," said Captain Berkley, going to the corner and 
 unfurling the article in question. " Here's another flag 
 behind the clock, that makes two." He unrolled as he 
 spoke the banner of the United States. 
 
 " Yes, here it is," he proceeded, holding it up to the 
 light ; "here it is, thii'teen stripes, no end of stars, 
 eagles and all." 
 
 " Sir, sir," said Mr. Shaker, trembling with agitation, 
 " the other is the Southern flag. That we only keep to 
 hang out when the Union soldiers come, to prevent their 
 carrying off our property." 
 
 "And the other," said Berkley, "you hang out when 
 the rebels come to prevent them fi'om executing like 
 measures. What an old sinner you are !" 
 
 IVIr. Shaker, rising with an air of desperation, went to 
 his desk, through which he sought and drew out at last 
 the paper which Tomlin had given me on the first day of 
 my meeting with him, enjoining all Confederate soldiers 
 to respect his property. Captain Berkley held the paper 
 to the Hght, looked closely at the signature, and restored 
 the document to Mr. Shaker, who stood in suspense. 
 
 "In this case," he observed, "I shall be reduced to 
 make a bargain with you. Under our present necessi- 
 ties, Governor Chives could have no objection to our tak- 
 ing one animal out of the four." 
 
 "One of the cows," said IVIr. Shaker, eagerly. 
 
 "No, I think we need the horse more; but if you wiU 
 give us the three cows in exchange we'll take them. 
 They are worth altogether about one hundred and twenty 
 dollars, and the extra five I'll throw off in consideration 
 of your extraordinary devotion to the Southern Confed- 
 eracy." 
 
 " You are very reasonable, sir," said IVIr. Shaker, 
 recovering from the unfortunate episode of the flag, 
 which he motioned Sally to spii-it away from the disloyal 
 
174 RENSHAWE. 
 
 presence. " There is one thing, however, of which I feel 
 it necessary to speak. My books, here, are quite valua- 
 ble, as you may perceive. They comprise a library of 
 three thousand volumes. They were canned off once by 
 a party of Southern soldiers, and if you will speak to your 
 men and repress their disposition to roam about the 
 house, I shall be much indebted to you." 
 
 " Oh, they'll not meddle with your books, M promise," 
 said the captain ; " we are merely a foraging party in 
 search of provisions. I will tell my men not to take any- 
 thing from your cellar or outhouses." 
 
 "Thank you, sii' — thank you, sir; greatly obliged to 
 you," said Mr. Shaker, and as ^Irs. Judson summoned 
 the captain to supper he bowed and withdi-ew. 
 
 It was a period of cruel suspense. Captain Berkley's 
 presence seemed to do little enough in awing the soldiers 
 into silence. Boisterous laughter resounded from the 
 sitting-room. Loud cheers proclaimed to whose honor 
 their potations were dedicated. 
 
 " Here's to Captain Berkley. HuiTah !" 
 
 "Here's to Governor Chives!" More shouting. Next 
 followed the name of "Jeff Davis;" finally, "Here's to 
 Tomlin !" 
 
 This toast was drank several times in the course of the 
 night, among many others that seemed to promise neither 
 ale nor cider in ^h\ Shaker's cellar by morning. 
 
 The clang of the gate at last heralded the departure of 
 the unwelcome guests. As I looked fi'om the library 
 windows I saw the first breaking of dawn over the sky, 
 illuminating in its misty light the tops of the neighbor- 
 ing hills, and the sombre waste of forest. The herd was 
 winding its way through the gates, celebrating its reluc- 
 tance to quit the late j)astures with lowings and bellow- 
 ings reverberating through the hills. The foraging 
 wagons followed in the rear of the herd; and the whole 
 train soon wound its way along the highroad. 
 
BLUE HILLS. 175 
 
 I rushed down to the sitting-room where were the 
 housekeeper and Mr. Shaker, exclaiming in tones of the 
 utmost deHght, " Thank Heaven, the cruel wretches have 
 all gone!" 
 
 IVIrs. Judson gave me a hasty nudge, and I perceived, 
 to my horror, that all the recent guests had not departed. 
 Captain Berkley was throwing back several letters into 
 the mail-bag which Singular was holding open. Two 
 epistles lay on the dresser. The mail-bag was closed, and 
 Twist bidden to " get the horse." 
 
 " "What is your name ?" asked Berkley, turning to me. 
 
 "Louisa Eenshawe." 
 
 " Call the other young lady," he added, to Mrs. Jud- 
 son. 
 
 Edith answered the summons immediately. Captain 
 Berkley presented her with an open letter, asking whether 
 she knew the hand-wi'iting. Edith assented. Berkley 
 asked the name, and she replied, " IVIr. Tomlin." 
 
 Captain Berkley walked to the window, and stood 
 there long enough to study every line. We awaited the 
 result in no little anxiety. The captain asked Mr. Shaker 
 for the paper shown him in the library. Mr. Shaker pro- 
 duced it, and it underwent a second inspection. Berkley 
 compared it closely with Tomlin's letter, and his brow 
 grew dark. !Mi\ Shaker's name and place of residence 
 were the only two words in Tomlin's hand. 
 
 *' You might as well throw away that piece of paper," 
 said the captain, returning it to the host; " It isn't worth 
 a rush." He turned to Edith. "How long have you 
 known this Mr. Tomlin ? " 
 
 "About four weeks or five," she replied. 
 
 " You are engaged to him, I presume ?" 
 
 Edith assented. 
 
 The captain handed her the letter without a word of 
 apology for having inspected it then he took the other 
 
176 KEKSHAWE. 
 
 fi'om the table, and looked the contents through. This 
 document I saw was in the hand of my sister Cassy. 
 
 " I would not advise you," he said, courteously, to me, 
 as he gave me the letter with the air of a king who con- 
 fers a title, " to leave Blue Hills to-day. There are for- 
 aging parties out, both north and south; but to-morrow 
 it will be quite safe to travel." 
 
 " Hoss is ready," said Singular, obsequiously. Berk- 
 ley bowed a general farewell, and walked out. 
 
 "Heavens! he is going to cari-y away Gusty!" ex- 
 claimed Mr. Shaker, in great trepidation, as he viewed 
 from the window the movements of Captain Berkley, who 
 was unstrapping the saddle from the back of a coal black 
 steed, presenting the greatest imaginable contrast to the 
 quadruped alluded to. 
 
 "Don't be scart," said the housekeeper. "Singlar 
 was a-tryin' to be quick, an' so put on the saddle hind- 
 side afore. Don't you see the captain's flopj^ed it round. 
 Thank Heving, he's orf. Never was so glad to see a man 
 go in all my bom days ! Laws, ]Mi'. Shaker, he wouldn't 
 take Gusty. "Why, he said the hoss looked wuss by day- 
 light than he did in the dark." 
 
 Edith and I walked off together to peruse the letters 
 in the retirement of the summer house. Mine was dated 
 two days previous, and ran as follows: 
 
 **Deae Louise • 
 
 "I write in great haste to tell you that I have had a letter from 
 mamma, and she entirely approves the engagement. She formerly 
 knew the Herveys well; so it is all public now. Herveyhas been here 
 everyday, and everybody wondered that I had no such announcement 
 to make before. Galusha had also given his cordial approval. I must 
 see you at once. Kemembe'r I have had nobody to talk to in so long. 
 We all think you have staid long enough in Blue Hills, so lose no 
 time in coming to Washington. Give my best love to dear Mr. Sha- 
 
BLUE HILLS. 177 
 
 ker, and say I am sorry to lose my visit to him, but it seems impos- 
 sible to come just now, arid don't fail to come here immediately. 
 
 Your afi'ectionate sister, 
 
 Cassy Renshawe. 
 P. S. Galusha has a commission in the volunteer army. 
 
 Edith called my attention, as I finished the perusal of 
 this note, to a message sent to me by Tomlin, in the fol- 
 lowing words : " Tell Miss Kenshawe that I send by the 
 same mail an answer to her inquiries, which will prove 
 satisfactory." What had become of this letter, was an 
 anxious question, and after some discussion we could 
 only decide that it had been withheld by Captain Berk- 
 ley among several others, which I noticed he had" retained. 
 
 Our communications were interrupted by the sum- 
 mons to breakfast, and we came in to join Mr. Shaker 
 and Mrs. Judson at a repast of coffee and johnny-cake, 
 to which we sat down with more gratitude in our hearts 
 than was generally accorded to superior fare. 
 
 " The cap'n kep 'em out of the steddy," said Mrs. Judson, 
 "but they've ben into every other hole in the house 1 
 Made me fairly sick this mornin'. One room was up side 
 down, an' the next was down side up, an' the next up 
 side down again, an' so on, all through. Sally an' Fs ben 
 ever since sunrise a-clarin' up this sittin'-room. Sing'lar 
 Twist he seen that capting leap the fence, boss an' aU, 
 an' he's stood struck to the spot ever since, I s'pect." 
 
 "Singular is faithful," sighed Mr. Shaker; "I heard 
 the captain tryin' to persuade him to take Gusty and join 
 his cavalry." 
 
 " Wus pokin' fun at him then," said Mrs. Judson, " I 
 heard him, too. Said the boss could move as fast as Sing- 
 'lar could." 
 
 " Clock's a-standin on its head," said Sally, who was 
 engaged in her duties as attendant. "Wonder what 
 Tomlin would say if he saw that!" 
 8* 
 
178 RENSHAWE. 
 
 The mention of Tomlin brought a certain gravity to 
 every face. As soon as Sally had been dismissed to Sin- 
 gular's company in the kitchen, the subject was opened. 
 It was certainly a most shocking fact that his health had 
 been drunk the night before by a set of rebels. Edith 
 resigned herself to the contemplation of the evidence 
 with more calmness than I had anticipated. It was all 
 weighed fi'om beginning to end, and the conclusions 
 arrived at were quite natural. His nocturnal visit to Mr. 
 Shaker's premises — his possession of a paper signed by 
 KiUian G. Chives — his obstinate refusal to accompany me 
 on the expedition to Caney Fork, after having set out for 
 that purpose — his employing the two zouaves as spies, 
 and Elisha's coming the night before his departure, were 
 suspicious circumstances, which had all been outweighed 
 in my mind by his fi'ank avowal of his devotion to the 
 Union cause. Even Mi\ Shaker shook his head when 
 these circumstances were reviewed. I alleged that I had 
 once accused him of being a secessionist spy, and he had 
 not denied it. 
 
 " He is a Southern man," Edith said, " that I cannot 
 doubt. I was conversing with him here one morning, and 
 I remarked on the sin of slavery; used some quite strong 
 expressions, and he flushed up suddenly, and said to me, 
 ' ]\Iiss Launey, you are talking to a member of a slave- 
 holding family.'" 
 
 " Has he told you nothing of his family ?" asked Mr. 
 Shaker. 
 
 " Nothing, Uncle Shaker. He owns that something is 
 left unexplained, but he is very sui'e that all will be satis- 
 factory when it is made known." 
 
 " 'WTien do you write to him ?" 
 
 "My first letter was sent to Baltimore; but he says in 
 this one that I am to wait for his next letter to learn his 
 address at present.'* 
 
BLUE HILLS. 179 
 
 One thing puzzles me," said Mr. Shaker. " If he is a 
 secessionist, why should Captain Berkley say nothing in 
 his favor? I thought, this morning, he seemed incHned 
 to sneer when his name was mentioned." 
 
 " He does not seem to like the Berkleys," said Edith ; 
 " seems very reticent on the subject." 
 
 "Then," said I, struck by a sudden thought, "they 
 know something to his disadvantage. His refusal to go 
 to Caney Fork, came immediately after I informed him 
 that Captain Berkley and Colonel Hunter were at Kocky 
 Cross. He feared to fall into theii' hands." 
 
 " That's it, child ; you have it now," said Mr. Shaker ; 
 " and he would not see Captain Berkley here ; he had 
 received some intimation of his coming, and avoided him." 
 
 "Then he may not be a rebel, arter all," said Mrs. 
 Judson. 
 
 A vague recollection came into my mind. It flashed 
 upon me now vividly. I remembered his name when I 
 first had heard it in the mouth of a conspirator, one 
 night of that same year, at the Black Kobin Club. 
 
 "Mrs. Judson," said I,, sadly, "I am sorry to say on 
 my knowledge that he is a rebel and a spy." 
 
 Slow as we had been to believe aught against Tomlin, 
 we were forced to admit that, in professing to be a Union 
 soldier, he had lived for six weeks in Mr. Shaker's family, 
 under false pretences. Edith declared her intention of 
 telling him she could not write again until the mystery 
 that attached to him was cleared up. 
 
 "It's a very strange thing," said ]Mi\ Shaker, as he 
 rose from the table, " and I can't understand it-^how a 
 man of such a mathematical turn of mind, who solves 
 problems that have jnizzled a coUege professor, and un- 
 derstood navigation and surveying so thoroughly, should 
 be nothing but a spy." 
 
 Ml'. Shaker and his niece left for the study, where they 
 
18 '3 RENSHAWE. 
 
 consulted for some time in private. Mrs. Judson sat 
 moodily over tlie salver, contemplating the figures on the 
 silver teapot, in a fit of unusual abstraction. At last she 
 looked up and caught my eye ; her featiu'es changed. 
 
 " They may all say what they like," said she, bringing 
 down her closed fist with emphasis on the table, "but I 
 ain't a-goin' to beheve anything agin' TomUn ; I don't 
 car' whether it's in black or white. I s'pose he's a rebel 
 'cause you say so ; but what ef he is ? Ef he is I shall 
 never say nawthin' agin rebels any more." 
 
 " Mrs. Judson !" 
 
 "Yes, Miss Renshawe, thar's some folks up Nawth 
 that'll come up at the Judgment day, expectin' to see 
 every man that's fit in the Southern army sent ofi" down 
 below, without grace ; an' it's my solemn belief they'll 
 get disap23ointed. But as for Tomlen, rebel or no 
 rebel," — the housekeeper rose, and her face lit up with 
 a sudden excitement — " I'll say this : I had a son, an' he 
 died among strangers ; an' that night that Tomlen looked 
 up at me with his wild eyes, an' said ' mother.' I tell you 
 I thort of my own j)ooi' boy, and my heart warmed to 
 him then, and it's never got cold, nor never will ; and 
 you may, all of you — Miss Launey, that's his promised 
 wife, and you that took his hand as his fiiend, and saved 
 his life, which you sartin did — you may aU say what you 
 like about him now that he's gone away ; but I'll jest lay 
 down this right arm of mine, an' hev it cut orf, afore I'U 
 turn agin' him!" 
 
 The housekeeper dashed aside a tear, and called in 
 Sally to take away the breakfast. There was no use in 
 arguing against such a prejudice, and I did not attempt it. 
 
 That afternoon I announced my intention of departing 
 
BLUE HELLS. 181 
 
 to the family. It was received with regret that was of a 
 very flattering nature, although every one comprehended 
 my anxiety to see my sister. I promised to return when 
 I could, and expressed my hope that before the end of 
 the summer I might be enabled to make a flying visit to 
 Blue Hills, with my mother and sisters. 
 
 Edith was so sure of being utterly desolate after my 
 departure, that she determined to accompany me as far 
 as Baltimore, where she had an aunt who would be very 
 glad to have her society for a few days. 
 
 Early the next morning, Mrs. Judson spurred up Sin- 
 gular to harness Gusty to the box wagon, which was to 
 carry the trunks, and a horse from Garniss's was at- 
 tached to the "shay," which Mrs. Judson ventured to 
 drive. I took my leave of Mr. Shaker at the house, and 
 by dint of constant shoutings at Singular to move ahead 
 faster, the housekeeper brought the caravan to Kocky 
 Cross in time for the nine o'clock train. 
 
 I looked for some time from the car window. Mrs. 
 Judson's waving handkerchief, and Singular's straw hat, 
 were soon invisible ; and after appearing at intervals 
 for some time, the Blue Hills at last faded out of 
 sight. 
 
 It was a long ride to Baltimore ; and when arrived in 
 that city, I was glad to stop with Edith at the house of 
 her aunt, who was not at home, to take some refreshment 
 before proceeding to Washington. Miss Launey accom- 
 panied me to the depot, and in parting it was quite 
 impossible for us to restrain a few tears. 
 
 It was well toward evening, long as were the days, be- 
 fore I came into Washington. It was a strange city to 
 me, and I looked about in a haze of bewilderment, gazing 
 out at the throng on the sidewalk, wondering where I 
 should go in the rain, for it was falling fast, and forgetting 
 Blue HiUs in the prospect before me. 
 
182 RENSHAWE. 
 
 " Car ain't a goin' any farther to-niglit, ma*am," said 
 a brakeman at the door. 
 
 Thus called to myself, I hurried to get off, felt for my 
 checks and pocket-book, experiencing, for the first time, 
 the inconveniences of travehng without an escort. As I 
 stepped off the car, a lady with a wet cloak and dripping 
 umbrella approached me on the platform. Her hood 
 was thrown back, and Cassy's face revealed. 
 
 "Oh, you wretched girl ! I've been dovm to the depot 
 every day for a week ! ^\Tiat has been the matter ?" 
 
 I looked around me wonderingiy. A dim white object 
 was just discernible through the heavy clouds. I saw 
 it half hidden by the smoke, and the sigl^t woke new 
 sensations. 
 
 " Is that the dome of the Capitol, Cassy ?" 
 
 " Which ? Oh, yes ; that's the dome. Dear me, you 
 can't see it here, and no time to look at it if you could. 
 Hurry around with me to Aunt Bess. Never mind about 
 the trunks, particularly ; we're going right away again, 
 the day after to-morrow." 
 
RENSHA¥E. 
 n. 
 
 WHITE CHIMNEYS. 
 
 Every man is as God made him, and oftentimes a great deal worse.'' 
 
 Don Quixote. 
 
 CHAPTER XVni. 
 
 )ASSANDRA had a hundred things to tell me, for 
 which she found our walk quite too short, chiefly 
 about Captain Hervey, about all the members of 
 his very dehghtful family, mixed up with frequent ejacu- 
 latory commendations of that gentleman's extraordinary 
 goodness and abilities. 
 
 I wanted to see Captain Hervey for reasons quite un- 
 known to my sister ; the cu'cumstances under which our 
 short acquaintance had terminated, were uppermost in 
 my mind ; but he could not be seen that night. The 
 regiment was to leave Washington in the morning. 
 
 " Then you'll not see him again at all," said I. 
 
 " Oh, yes ! he promised to come early to-morrow." 
 
 " But he may be detained." 
 
 " Not in the morning. He promised to come. 
 
184 RENSHAWE. 
 
 I now inquired for wliat place we were to leave "Wash- 
 ington. Cassy said she had accepted an invitation from 
 Mrs. Hervey, for me and herself, to visit her at her resi- 
 dence in TMiite Chimneys. 
 
 "What! while you are engaged to Captain Hervey?" I 
 exclaimed in astonishment. 
 
 " I don't want to go at all, Louisa. Indeed, you must 
 understand exactly how I feel; but the Herveys have not 
 the dimmest idea why it should be contrary to my feel- 
 ings. I can't tell you till you see them what sort of 
 people they are." 
 
 " They have called on you," I suggested." 
 
 "Dear me, no — nothing of the sort. It's been very in- 
 formal, I assure you. The two daughters ran round in 
 a great hurry one day, in morning di'esses, no gloves or 
 cards, French hoods on their heads ; and when I came 
 in embraced me in the most tumultuous way — said 
 " Mamma " wasn't well and wanted me to come to the 
 hotel to see her. I went there dii-ectly ; and there sat 
 mamma, all dressed up, with a great crowd of ladies in 
 her parlor — ^just like a levee ; and she seated me right 
 down beside her, and introduced me to everybody that 
 spoke to her as her ' new daughter.' It never seemed to 
 enter their head that I need be at aU embarrassed ; and 
 then, when Hervey came in, his mother asked us, before 
 ten or a dozen people, to decide when we would be mar- 
 ried. But they ai'e all very kind people indeed — perfect 
 jewels of goodness, and the first day I dined there, they 
 made me promise to go down to White Chimneys ; aU 
 crowded about, ofi'ered to come that night and help me 
 pack. Dear Louise, I couldn't say no ! It was all I could 
 do to put them off till you came. VHaj, my dear sister, 
 it really required all my skill to avoid staying all the 
 time with them this past week." 
 
 " How many does this interesting family comprise ?" 
 
WHITE CHIMNEYS. 185 
 
 " Two sons, and two daughters; Mrs. Trueman, and 
 Georgy." 
 
 " Georgy ? Is that for Georgiana, Georgina, or Geor- 
 gia?" 
 
 " I don't know. I never heard her called anything but 
 Georgy. Sophia is a sister of Mr. Hervey's, about the 
 age of his youngest son. She's rather different from the 
 rest; has been educated at the North." 
 
 " How are they on the pohtical question ?" 
 
 " All sound, with one exception. Major Hervey is in 
 the Southern army. He is the eldest son." 
 
 " You have not seen him, then ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes; but it was early in the spring, when we first 
 came to Washington. I like him very much indeed. He 
 is married." 
 
 " And his wife — do you like her ?" 
 
 " Oh, I've never seen her. She does not visit the fam- 
 ily. I believe it was a sort of mesalliance, and they are 
 only lately reconciled to him." 
 
 " I a; 11 surprised," said I, " that he should have con- 
 sented to a recognition that did not include his wife." 
 
 " I can't explain it," said my sister; " I only know that 
 he seemed to consider it a matter of small importance 
 whether his wife was received or not. But let us hear 
 about your own affairs, and what you have been doing. 
 
 I was really glad to change the conversation, for though 
 I entered strongly into Cassy's feehngs I was still anxious 
 to hear Aunt Bess's judgment on the Herveys before 
 making up my mind unconditionally. Aunt Bess had just 
 moved into a new house, recently furnished, of which the 
 rooms were nearly all let to lodgers; but it was her inten- 
 tion to open it as a boarding-house in the fall. My aunt 
 wore the air of a person not only out of health, but out 
 of spirit. Of course, as soon as I saw her alone, I men- 
 tioned the Herveys. 
 
186 RENSHAWE. 
 
 Aunt Bess at once assured me that she heartily ap- 
 proved of Cassy's engagement. The Herveys were a 
 highly respectable family, very well connected, and very 
 wealthy. 
 
 As the item of wealth was one on which Aunt Bess 
 invariably dwelt in her estimate of the advantages of an 
 engagement, I was satisfied of that worldly good as 
 as soon as her fii'st words of praise were uttered. I 
 inquii'ed further into the family character. 
 
 "Very amiable, pleasant people. You always hear 
 them well spoken of when they are spoken of at all. 
 Hervey himself is a singular kind of person ; the greatest 
 contrast to Cassy, in looks, that you can possibly imagine." 
 
 "I have seen him," said I, "but long before this, of 
 course. Looks are of no consequence, Aunt Bess, if the 
 heart is right." 
 
 I expected some condemnation for uttering platitudes, 
 but my remonstrance had been too feelingly made. 
 
 " Heart ? Oh, my dear, his is lost, and Cassy's, too. 
 You never saw two such crazy fools in your life." 
 
 " They are very much attached, then T* 
 
 " You'll see," and Aunt Bess would say no more. 
 
 ]\Irs. Trueman, one of Cassy's proposed sisters-in-law, 
 was expected to tea, and she came quite punctually. She 
 looked very much as she had on the occasion of oui' first in- 
 troduction at the Ostranders', renewed our acquaintance in 
 the most charming manner, talked of "our sister Cassy," 
 and greeted that young lady in even warmer style. She 
 had nothing to say that was very new or very striking; 
 but what she did say could not have been spoken more 
 pleasantly, and her face wore a steady, habitual smile, 
 that seemed natural, after a while, though at first I pro- 
 nounced it an inexpressive simper. Tea was served in 
 the fi'ont room on the second floor, with the blinds closely 
 di'awn, and as soon as ]Mi's. Trueman and I had finished 
 
WHITE CHIMNEYS. 187 
 
 making much of each other, at least as soon as there was 
 a kill in our mutual congratulations and good wishes, 
 which was by the time the first cup had been sipped all 
 around, I asked Aunt Bess where Alice was at present. 
 
 " She has been away for a week now," said my aunt. 
 " Oh, Louise ! don't talk to me of Alice ! I am discour- 
 aged, disheartened. She will go travehng all about with 
 that old rascal." 
 
 Mrs. Trueman inquired what rascal. 
 
 "That old one-eyed rascal, Chives!" exclaimed my aunt. 
 
 I looked up in no little surprise that the speaker should 
 have forgotten herself so far as to use such an epithet, 
 but I saw only wrath and intense feeling in her features. 
 
 "Why, you are quite exasperated about him. Aunt 
 Bess," said Cassy, laughing. "I think him very charm- 
 ing." 
 
 " Charming !" cried Aunt Bess. 
 
 "Yes. I don't think him a rascal at all; and I'm sure 
 his one eye is handsomer than any two I ever saw in my 
 life — apart from those whom I personally love." 
 
 The door opened at this juncture, and Alice walked 
 into the room in her traveling dress. She went directly 
 up to my sister. 
 
 " Shake hands with me, Cassy. I am your sworn 
 friend from this moment forward. I like you far better 
 for defending Governor Chives than for speaking well of 
 me." 
 
 Aunt Bess received her daughter's kiss with a vexed, 
 impatient air. Place was made for Alice at the table, 
 and before taking her seat, she whispered in my ear, " not 
 one word of Blue Hills." 
 
 The conversation, after this new accession to the party, 
 ran on the same subject. Aunt Bess enlarged on the an- 
 noyance her daughter had caused her. " I'll lay the case 
 before anybody in the world, my child. Is it right for 
 
188 WHITE CHIMMEYS. 
 
 yoTi to leave yoiir own mother and mn about from town 
 to town with that scoundrel?" 
 
 "AMiy, mother, you know I'm obliged to leave you; 
 that I've explained many a time ; and I don't travel with 
 Mr. Chives very often — never alone with him more than 
 once or twice, to which nobody of sense could make the 
 least objection." 
 
 " If you must travel, though, I don't see what necessity 
 compels you to make yourself a wandering Jew ; why 
 don't you go alone altogether ?" 
 
 "^\Tiy not go with ^Ii'. Chives?" Alice demanded. 
 
 "Because it's not considered the thing, my child, and 
 you know that as well as I do." 
 
 " How old a gentleman is this ]\Ir. Chives ?" inquired 
 Mrs. Trueman. 
 
 "Eighty-seven last Christmas," said Alice 
 
 Mrs. Trueman laughed. "People probably suppose 
 Alice to be traveling with her grandfather." 
 
 " Of coui'se they do," said Alice ; " and I don't travel 
 with him, I say. I go where he sends me." 
 
 The subject was changed as soon as possible by me. 
 Many were discussed which possessed no Httle interest 
 for me. Galusha's entering the army was spoken of, and 
 his present absence fi'om Washington regretted. The 
 Ostranders were alluded to next, and I was informed, as 
 a starthng piece of news, that Miss Douglas's engage- 
 ment to Mr. George Berkley had been dissolved some 
 time since.* Mr. Davis had gone South, to Louisana, 
 and when last heard of was drilling recruits for a Confed- 
 erate regiment. 
 
 Mrs. Trueman had many little peculiarities of manner, 
 
 * Keference is here made to "Mary Brandegee," a pre\'ioiis work 
 by tliis author, and also to a new work in press, entitled "Dela- 
 ware."' — Ed. 
 
WHITE CHIMNEYS. 189 
 
 to whicli I was all the evening in getting accustomed. 
 She spoke of the various members of her family as though 
 they had no proper names, mentioning them in the 
 abstract as "brother," " sister," etc. ; and in speaking of 
 Mr. Trueman, she said invariably, "husband," without 
 the possessive pronoun natural to prefix. Her carriage 
 came quite late, and she promised to call for Cassy and 
 me early on the morning of the second day, to set out 
 for Mr. Hervey's country seat, at White Chimneys, 
 whither all the family had gone. 
 
 When Mrs. Trueman had gone, Aunt Bess renewed 
 her attack on Mr. Chives. AHce lounged on the sofa, 
 pushing her sHpper off and on, occasionally raising her 
 eyes to her mother's face, with an air half amusement, 
 half obstinacy. ^Vhen Aunt Bess had ceased, more from 
 weariness than exhaustion of the subject, I brought back 
 the conversation to the Herveys. 
 
 " Where is Mr. Trueman ?" I asked. 
 
 "Oh, * husband' is in the rebel army," said Alice, 
 laughing ; "I think Mrs. Trueman is half secesh herself; 
 sweet woman ! I generally dislike sweet women, because 
 they are almost always soft — soft in the sense of silly, you 
 know. But Mrs. Trueman is sweet without being exactly 
 silly, though she does act as though she was ready to 
 embrace the whole world. The first time I**ever met the 
 Herveys, it did sound so very singular to hear Mrs. Her- 
 vey saying, * my lamb,' to the major, and * my darling' 
 to the captain, and *my sweet baby* to Georgiana ; and 
 those full grown men talking to ' papa ' and ' mamma,' 
 and to hear Mrs. Trueman shouting to her husband way 
 across the street, ' My love ! my love ! your overcoat !' 
 and then she ran out bareheaded, and in shppered feet, 
 to carry his coat half way to the corner. Oh, Louise, 
 it's a rich set you're going among to-morrow." And 
 Alice stifled a laugh in the cushions of the sofa. 
 
190 EENSHAWE. 
 
 " Well," said Cassy, after sober reflection, " if the whole 
 family do seem absui'd in their manners toward each 
 other, I must say that it is a hundi'ed times better to err 
 on that extreme than on the other. They had better, as 
 they cannot strike the medium, be constantly worrying 
 about one another, and talking affectionately to each 
 other, than to be fault-finding and scolding all the time." 
 
 " You are right, Cassandra," said Aunt Bess, " perfectly 
 right ; and I don't know that the Herveys are so very 
 absurd after all. If they feel like loving and blessing 
 each other, the fact that they indulge the feeling only 
 shows their independence. They have not Uved so long 
 in the world without learning its ways so far as to know 
 that coldness and reticence is more the fashion than 
 warmth and unreserve." 
 
 This reflection, plainly pointed at AHce, was studiously 
 unheeded by that fail' damsel. 
 
 " I have heard it said," I remarked, " that when people 
 make such a pubhc display of affection, they generally 
 live like cat and dog in private. Perhaps at the Herveys 
 it is not quite so lovely behind the scenes." 
 
 " Oh, yes," said Alice, quickly ; "I must do them that 
 justice. People who have staid months in the family, 
 say they ai*e the same abroad or at home. Sophia, to be 
 sure, differs fnom the rest ; she is the same at all times, 
 too — brusque and disagreeable." 
 
 That night Alice and I slept in the room adjoining that 
 occupied by my aimt and sister, an arrangement brought 
 about by my cousin, who was sure the day was long 
 enough for Cassy and me to discuss our new connections, 
 privately intimating to me that her mother would talk 
 her quite dead about Chives. As Aunt Bess had left 
 open the folding doors, however, I was several times 
 awakened by the broad flare of a match, and the snap of 
 a watchcase. 
 
WHITE CHIMNEYS. 191 
 
 " What is the matter, Cassy ?" I inquired at last. 
 
 " Four hours till day," was the answer. 
 
 I woke at last ; the clock struck three. My sister was 
 up and nearly dressed. 
 
 " Cassy, are you crazy, or is the clock wrong ?" 
 
 "My dear Louise, I would not have Hervey come and 
 be kept waiting for the world." 
 
 "Is he in the habit of coming at three in the 
 morning ?" 
 
 " No ; he won't be here tiU five, but I can't sleep any 
 more." 
 
 " My dear Louise," said Aunt Bess, laughing, " this is 
 the time he generally goes away. The day before yester- 
 day, Cassy and he talked in the parlor from morning till 
 night with nothing to eat or drink." 
 
 Cassy watched at the window for two hours, and sud- 
 denly flew down the staircase to open the front door. 
 
 I feared that Hervey would leave before I had an op- 
 portunity of seeing him, but Aunt Bess reassured me on 
 that head, and I did not come down till just at breakfast 
 time. Hervey greeted me as though he were already my 
 brother, and I saw by his eyes that he wished for an in- 
 terview as well as myself. 
 
 " I must see Louise alone, a minute," he said to Cassy, 
 and we walked away from the breakfast-room door to 
 the balcony windows. The final fate of the Black Kobin 
 was discussed. Hervey assured me that the society had 
 been torn up, root and branch, but, as might have been 
 expected, not one of the conspirators met with his 
 deserts. 
 
 "Don't you think you and I ran a gi-eat risk?" I 
 inquired. 
 
 " Every one that meddles with any secret society runs a 
 risk," said Hervey. " It is an ordinary rule, I understand, 
 that a man who joins one, places his Hfe at its supreme 
 
192 RENSHAWK 
 
 disposal. Of course those men are prepared to deal 
 summarily with their enemies." 
 
 " One word in conclusion," I said, as we returned 
 through the parlor. '* V\lio and what is Tomlin ?" 
 
 Hervey paused directly. " ^Tiat Tomlin ?" 
 
 I related shortly the circumstances of my meeting with 
 him at Blue Hills, and the general suspicion that he was 
 a secessionist spy. 
 
 " You are mistaken," said Hervey ; " all I can teU you 
 now is, that he has been of signal service to the Govern- 
 ment, and has saved fifteen thousand stand of arms from 
 the enemy." 
 
 "Lately?" 
 
 " Yes ; within a few days. He receives a commission 
 very soon." 
 
 Hervey left that morning, and Gassy supported his de- 
 parture better than I had expected. Aunt Bess and 
 Alice had quarreled nearly aU day on the usual subject, 
 and when my sister and I withdrew after supi^er to our 
 preparations for the morrow's journey, we left our fair 
 relatives still at sword's point. 
 
 My sister talked over oui' j)lans and intentions with 
 vivacity, dwelt much on Captain Hervey's merits, and 
 quite as feelingly on her anxiety about our mother and 
 Helen. 
 
 "My dear Louise, I am so sorry you are not so happy 
 as I! I really don't express half what I feel for your 
 sake." 
 
 "You need have no such dehcacy, I assure you. I 
 don't envy your being in love, after what I have seen 
 to-day. K it involves getting up in the middle of the 
 night, watching at windows, fasting aU day, and such 
 reveiy and absence of mind as you have evinced since 
 morning, I would rather be excused." 
 
 " Then you are quite happy as you are ?" 
 
WHITE CHDTNEYS. 193 
 
 " Yes ; only that we have no news of mother and 
 Helen." 
 
 Cassy moved about thoughtfully. As she closed the 
 Hd of the last trunk, a new idea struck her. 
 
 " By the way, Louise, who was it you were in love with 
 at the Ostranders ?" 
 
 Oh," said I, laughing, " that is all over now." 
 
 "What! Richard is himseK again?" 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 " So soon ! I could never forget Captain Hervey while 
 I hve. If it's all over, you don't mind telling me who it 
 was ?" 
 
 "Not at all ; don't mind teUing any one. George 
 Berkley." 
 
 My sister wasted much astonishment on this revela- 
 tion. I was soon asleep, but Cassy kept me uneasily 
 dreaming till one o'clock, up to which time she perused 
 Captain Hervey's letters, with the gas at full blaze 
 
 ^AvN a qui( 
 
 iK) gate of 
 
 V/ White C 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 quiet morning in July, I sat near the open 
 the lawn, before Mr. Hervey's house at 
 White Chimneys. 
 I had gone thither to take a sketch of the place, but 
 instead of that, had been listlessly dreaming the hour 
 away. The whole village lay in full view, and the sun- 
 dry sounds and sights in that quarter, denoted a life and 
 stir that might have accompanied the growth of a more 
 pretentious place. White Chimneys was too large to be 
 called a village, and too small to be considered a city, 
 although it has been dignified as such, by some historians 
 of the recent war; and was at times so conspicuous 
 9 
 
194 RENSHAWE. 
 
 in its annals, that I have preferred to give it under a 
 fictitious name in these pages. 
 
 The house was in appearance neither old nor new. It 
 was a wooden building, two stories high, and broad on 
 the front, with large windows opening to the floor. 
 From the massive rough stone steps, in front of the 
 piazza, whose slender pillars (for there was no balus- 
 trade) were overrun with vines, the beaten path led 
 down the gi-adual slope to the gate. The lawn was de- 
 ficient in the statues, fountains, mounds of flowers, and 
 other devices, by which a vulgar taste seeks to enhance 
 natural beauty by artificial attractions, but tall branching 
 trees, oaks, and elms, and beeches, threw a cool and de- 
 Hghtful shade over the grounds which were a welcome 
 resort in the hottest days. There was something about 
 the house, with its open hall doors, its wide windows, the 
 ferns glancing back and forth, and the lively music, that 
 forbade the idea of ennui or loneliness there. 
 
 And it was a happy household; not only the letter of 
 affection's law, but the spirit, existed here. Every mem- 
 ber of the family studied the wishes and regarded the 
 convenience of the rest; and the natural result was, that 
 the accidents which would happen, and the mistakes 
 which were inevitable, dissolved on the face of the Httle 
 community, like snowfalls in a river. I had remarked one 
 day to my hostess, that I had heard it said, there was a 
 skeleton in eveiy closet ; but I saw no trace of any 
 skeleton here. 
 
 " Perhaps the closet door is shut," repHed Mrs. Heiwey, 
 ^with a look that reminded me of the yet unseen eldest 
 eon, and the mesalliance to which Cassy had alluded. 
 
 I had learned soon to love the whole family, but the 
 one who chiefly won my interest was Sophia. She had, 
 unHke her two nieces, no pretension to beauty ; had 
 lived for some time at the North with her brother, and, 
 
WHITE CHIMNEYS. 195 
 
 therefore, in looks and principles, we met on common 
 gi-ound. She possessed a variety of accojnplishments, 
 was a fine musician and linguist, very well read, and her 
 proficiency in mathematics would have charmed Mr. 
 Tomlin himself. In all branches of embroidery and 
 needle-work she was well versed, as well as in the culi- 
 nary art, where her skill was confessed to be superior; 
 and a certain force of character made her the ruling 
 spirit in the family ; for to consult Sophia, was the ref- 
 erence in every difficulty, and till her opinion was secured, 
 other verdicts were doubtful. 
 
 " You and I will have to agree," she said to me, the 
 morning after my arrival, as I was watching her arrange- 
 ment of some linen on the closet shelves in the hall. 
 
 " I trust so," said I, laughing. 
 
 " Oh, indeed we shall ; I heard a great deal about you, 
 long before I ever met you or your sister." 
 
 " From whom ?" I inquired. 
 
 Chiefly from Miss Bourdleme. She's one of the uni- 
 versal persons, who know everybody, and everybody's 
 relations." 
 
 Not Hking to ask what Miss Bourdleme had said, I in- 
 quired how she liked that " universal" young lady. 
 
 " No objection to her," said Sophia ; " except that she 
 has what I call the Berkley fever, which, by the way, 
 everybody takes when an opportunity offers." 
 
 "You know the Berkleys then?" 
 
 " Oh, dear, yes, for several years; not intimately to be 
 sure. Mr. Dan Berkley, and my brother Lionel were 
 quite warm friends; but since -Dan's death, we have 
 scarcely seen anything of them. The ladies of the 
 family, we have seen very frequently. I have hardly 
 made up my mind whether you have the Berkley fever 
 or not, Louisa. Have you ?" 
 
 " No," said I, smiling ; and thinking it quite super- 
 
196 RENSHAWE. 
 
 fluous to add, that I had had it and recovered, I sup- 
 pressed the fact, as one that could not raise me in !Miss 
 Hervey's estimation. 
 
 "By the way," she added, as she quitted the hall, "I 
 beg you'll keep your trunks locked, for Lucy's a thief." 
 
 I found Sophia not always disposed to be talkative. 
 She was capricious and fitful. At times she would sit for 
 hours together at the window, steadily plying her needle; 
 taciturn and grave, not a syllable escaping her Hps. 
 
 On this morning I was, as previously related, just in 
 the midst of a di'awing of the house, but my mind was 
 not sufficiently at ease to enable me to complete it. 
 News had come of an alarming nature. 'Uliite Chim- 
 neys was occupied by soldiers, who had come in that 
 day, and the most unpleasing fact connected with the 
 invasion was, that they were not Northern troops. 
 Anxiety was rife throughout the family, and we were aU 
 in suspense until fui'ther intelligence should come from 
 the village. 
 
 After many a vain attempt to fix my mind on my 
 sketch, I tossed the paste-board into my portfolio, and 
 moved up toward the house. As I neared the piazza, a 
 footfall sounded behind me on the walk, a careless voice 
 accosted me, and before I could faii'ly look round, some 
 one stoj^ped me and kissed me. I looked up in speech- 
 less astonishment, and beheld a tall young gentlemen in 
 regimentals, whose face to my certain knowledge I had 
 never seen before. 
 
 " Oh, I beg your pardon," he exclaimed ; " I took you 
 for iMiss Eenshawe." 
 
 At this statement my astonishment increased. The 
 stranger begged pardon again, and as I was still dumb, 
 he passed on to the house. I followed. The military 
 character of his dress had determined him as belonging 
 to the new camp, and with Captain Berkley's foraging 
 
WHITE CHIMNEYS. 197 
 
 party fiillvin my memory, I was not particularly charmed 
 with his unceremonious way of traversing the apartments 
 below. 
 
 " "Where are all the people ?" he asked, returning from 
 the deserted parlors to the hall. 
 
 I said I presumed they must be all in their rooms. 
 
 "Ah!" the specimen in uniform ran up the staircase, 
 and went from door to door, exploring the second story 
 like the first. I sent black Lucy in haste to the grove, to 
 inform the ladies that there was a strange officer roam- 
 ing over the house, for I could not admit the conviction 
 that he had any right on the premises. He reappeared 
 directly. 
 
 " There seems to be nobody in the house ; where have 
 they all gone?" he inquired. The sound of voices made 
 me aware that they were coming at last. Georgy ar- 
 rived first in the hall. My suspicions were ended. 
 
 " Oh Tiger's come — mamma ! Tiger's come ! " she 
 shouted. " You dear^ld Tiger, how do you do ?" and the 
 ladies all flew in, and hung about the aforesaid Tiger, 
 with an enthusiasm that left no doubt of his identity, 
 and when I saw Cassy's share in the reception, I per- 
 ceived for whom it was I had been mistaken. As soon 
 as the first flush of greeting was over, Mrs. Trueman 
 introduced " Cassy's sister" and " our brother Lionel." 
 
 Lionel and I had Kttle time for exchange of com- 
 pliments. He was dragged into the drawing-room, the 
 negroes sent everjr^here for Mr. Hervey, and the de- 
 Hght of the family exhibited in the most demonstrative 
 way. Amid the numerous questions, which the new 
 comer was obliged to ask and answer, it was some time 
 before the discourse grew at all connected. I studied 
 his features, with the interest I naturally felt in every 
 member of a family into which my sister was so soon to 
 be received; and for the hour that he remained, saw 
 
198 RENSHAWE. 
 
 nothing to dislike. Major Her\ey stated that his regi- 
 ment was at White Chimneys, for how long he could not 
 say, and that Colonel Hunter's was quartered there also. 
 Sophia, mentioned that she had heard a report that 
 morning, that the — th regiment of North Carolina, com- 
 manded by Colonel Berkley, was in the vicinity. 
 
 " We expect Berkley in to-day," replied Major Hervey. 
 Sophia expressed her sorrow that there was a rebel 
 camp again at WTiite Chimneys. She earnestly wished 
 that the next time they went they might be scattered 
 by the loyal troops of the North, and loaded with all the 
 ignominy that rebels and traitors justly deserved. 
 
 "You seem utterly destitute of loyalty to your own 
 soil, Sophia," said Major Hervey, who had listened to 
 this unsparing denunciation with calmness that surprised 
 me. " It is well that such sentiments here are rare." 
 
 " If I did not believe," said Sophia, with enthusiasm 
 deepening in her gTay eyes, " if I did not beheve such 
 sentiments exist among many of the Southern people, I 
 should hope nothing for the country." 
 
 " Nonsense !" said Lionel Hervey with a laugh. " Such 
 sentiments exist among the Southern people, in the same 
 proportion that they exist at White Chimneys, one man 
 to a hundred. Even this family, I beheve, is lukewarm 
 toward the old Union, and krudly toward the new 
 RepubHc. I except you, Sophia, but no Southern woman 
 talks as you do, unless, like you, she has been reared at 
 a Boston academy. 
 
 "I am not a Southern woman," said Sophia, earnestly; 
 "I am not a Northern woman; I am nothing which, in 
 distinguishing me as a daughter of the Union, separates 
 me from it. As for this family being friendly to the new 
 Repubhc, as you call it, I Httle know them, if they do 
 not share my sentiments. It is only folly and madness 
 now to proclaim them, as we are already looked upon 
 
WHITE CHIMNEYS. 199 
 
 with hostile eyes by the whole village. Nothing saves 
 us from an open demonstration, but the fact that 
 you are in the Southern army. Oh Lionel, what a 
 blessed privilege you have thrown away ; worse than 
 thrown away — betrayed !" 
 
 "What blessed privilege is that?" inquired Major 
 Hervey. 
 
 "Of defending your country," cried Sophia. "Asa 
 woman, I can only give my heart, and hand, and faculties 
 to the cause; but you could have offered your Hfe ! It 
 can bring you no honor whatever, that you did peril it 
 on the side of treason." 
 
 " Well," said Major Hervey, rising, " I suppose after 
 all this patriotism, and detestation of rebels, my errand 
 to-day is entirely useless." 
 
 The nature of the errand was at once demanded. 
 Major Hervey explained, that as the — th Carolina was 
 expected that afternoon, he had supposed his sisters 
 might like to witness the display ; consequently he had 
 come to offer his escort to the arsenal, from the windows 
 of which they might view the procession. The invitation 
 produced quite a revulsion. It was accepted by all but 
 Sophia, who declared that she couldn't endure the sight 
 of rebels in a body, and should remain at home. Major 
 Hervey did not attempt to oppose this determination, 
 but withdrew, promising to return in time to ensure our 
 being at the arsenal early. 
 
 When he had gone, Mi's. Hervey and Mrs. Trueman 
 made an earnest appeal to Sophia to waive her scruples, 
 and accompany them in the afternoon. They represent- 
 ed that the family was already regarded by watchful and 
 malicious eyes, and that she, in particular, by reason of 
 the active measures she had taken, had laid herself open 
 to strictures from the disloyal citizens of AVhite Chim- 
 neys, who were a large majority. Sophia at last, in con- 
 
200 KENSHATTE. 
 
 sideration of the possible effects of her non-appearance, 
 and influenced solely, as she declared, by her wish not to 
 bring any calamity on the family, repealed her decision. 
 
 That afternoon, while wiiting a note before Major 
 Hervey's aiTival, I hapj^ened to look up at Cassy, who 
 was regarding me in an absent way. 
 
 ""What are you thinking of?" I asked. 
 
 " I am thinking," said she, " that you never can have 
 been in love with George Berkley at all. You looked so 
 unconcerned when his name w^as mentioned. How was 
 it possible, Louise ?" 
 
 I had been indulging some self-congratulation on the 
 same circumstance; I had borne the announcement of 
 Berkley's speedy arrival without any emotion, nor was 
 it granted even to the consciousness of my past folly. 
 
 "Really, my astonishment increases," said my sister. 
 " You did not even blush when his name was mentioned. 
 How do you feel on his being so near?" 
 
 "Entirely at ease. It was a very silly fancy, Cassy ; do 
 not remind me of it." 
 
 Eeassured at finding that even she had detected no 
 sign of the agitation which I supposed recollection had 
 painted on my face, I was fi'ee now to wonder at myself 
 that ever I should have been governed by so capricious a 
 fancy. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 fyT'S not possible that you are going," said Major Her- 
 j vey to Sophia, as, on the occasion of his second ar- 
 ■^ rival, he found her waiting him with the rest, ready 
 equipped for the excursion. We set out, taking the di- 
 rect road to the town, which we found in a state betoken- 
 ing universal excitement. The streets were filled with 
 
WHITE CHIMNEYS. 201 
 
 passing crowds ; groups of soldiers and officers were 
 cliiefly distinguishable, members of the camp, already- 
 stationed at 'Wliite Chimneys. Confederate flags floated 
 in every quarter, and the arsenal windows were shielded 
 from the hot blaze of the sun by the dark shadow of the 
 palmetto tree, and the rattle-snake insignia, which the 
 Confederacy at that time acknowledged as its emblems. 
 The air of the whole place was expectation — it illumined 
 the faces — it looked from the house-tops — it blocked up 
 the way. Major Hervey, who walked beside Cassandra, at 
 the head of our part}^ conducted us in safety to the 
 arsenal, which was a collection of bare rooms, furnished 
 in a rude and disorderly way, its recent service as a hos- 
 pital commingHng its characters so that it were difficult 
 to decide what present use it had been put to. Follow- 
 ing our conductor, we proceeded up a flight of well worn 
 wooden steps, each one surmounted by a short brass 
 plate, to the second story of the building. The apart- 
 ment into which we were admitted was stocked with a 
 medley of bedsteads, old muskets, and shelves filled with 
 books and bottles. Major Hervey provided us with seats 
 at the windows, commanding a full view of the street 
 below and above, with the long line of bunting 
 streaming in the sun. 
 
 I looked down on the throng of the populace, decked by 
 the numerous secession badges, and overhung with the 
 ominous palmetto flag and appropriate emblems from 
 the serpent kingdom with wonder, at the unexpected 
 vicissitude that had placed me thus in the very heart of 
 rebeldom. 
 
 In the countenance of Sophia Hervey, clothed as it 
 was with an impressive solemnity befitting the occasion, 
 I fancied I could trace a closer sympathy with my senti- 
 ments, than was felt by any of my other companions. 
 There were other ladies in the room, all wearing seces- 
 9* 
 
202 - EENSHAWK 
 
 sion colors, and some of their remarks reached the ears 
 of our party. 
 
 "It is quite a large regiment," observed one of the 
 ladies. "I am told there are fourteen hundi-ed men, ex- 
 clusive of the officers." 
 
 " And dear me ! Almeria, you should see their colonel," 
 was added in another voice. " He is perfectly splendid !" 
 
 "Colonel Berkley?" 
 
 "Yes. He's very young for an officer — only twenty- 
 six — and oh, so admired, you can't conceive ! Son of 
 General Berkley, you know, of Mexican war recollection. 
 I fell in love with him just seeing him once." 
 
 " Wonderful how far externals go with silly women," 
 was Sophia's comment. 
 
 We waited a considerable time for the arrival of the 
 expected troops, and it was later than the hour appoint- 
 ed, when the roll of a drum sounded in the distance, and 
 the clear accent of the fife and bugle gave notice of 
 the coming of the Confederate corps. There was a new 
 rush to the windows on aU sides; a new elevation of 
 heads in the mass, and all faces turned to the South- 
 western quarter. It was a steady, well mounted and gaily 
 equipped j)rocession of cavah'y. The line was long; two 
 large banners — one, the emblematic symbols of South 
 Carolina in the van ; the other, the great flag of the Con- 
 federacy at the centre — marked the line of the equestrian 
 crowd, and the decorations of steel and scarlet on the 
 accoutrements of the dragoons, flashed in the Hght of 
 the declining sun. I gazed at the headmost horsemen 
 as the troop came on, saw only a line of unfamiHar faces, 
 and while I was looking for some that I might recognize, 
 a halt was called, and the whole body stopped as the 
 front rank came under the arsenal windows. I scrutin- 
 ized every face, and my attention was for a moment 
 caught by the figure of an officer on a black horse, on 
 
WHITE CHIMNEYS. 203 
 
 the opposite side of the way. Just then I heard Mr. 
 Hervey remark : 
 
 "How well Colonel Berkley looks !" 
 
 "Where?" said Sophia, turning back to the window 
 from which she had withdrawn, as though the sight was 
 too oppressive to be borne. 
 
 "Along the right flank," said Mr. Hervey; ''black 
 horse and blue saddle-cloth." 
 
 "That's not Colonel Berkley?" was simultaneously 
 uttered by Mrs. Trueman and I, my attention thus di- 
 rected to the officer who had attracted my momentary 
 notice. Cassy said in a low tone to me — 
 
 " You don't even know him ! how you^ do astonish 
 me!" 
 
 The officer meanwhile gathered up the bridle and rode 
 on a few paces; the flash of the sunlight came full on his 
 features, and as his head was turned for a second, I was 
 staggered by the resemblance. 
 
 "So it is," said Mrs. Trueman; "but really, I should 
 not have recognized him. His hair is all cut off, and he 
 is terribly browned by the sun." 
 
 I looked again and was convinced. It was certainly 
 Berkley. The motionless grace of his position, the invin- 
 cible ease of his air, were unmistakable; and when I saw 
 him shaking hands warmly with Major Hervey, there 
 was no farther room for delusion. 
 
 But a few minutes to gaze were granted the admiring 
 crowd at the arsenal windows. The order to move on 
 was shortly given, and the moimted concourse proceeded 
 along the crowded street. It was of course a long time 
 in passing, and when faii'ly gone, it was some time before 
 the thi'ong dispersed. 
 
 AVe waited for Major Hervey in the arsenal. The 
 room was weU filled, for as some pieces of artillery were 
 coming in through the lower haU, all the ladies who had 
 
204 RENSHAWE. 
 
 visited that building were detained by their inability to 
 walk over the cannons, and caissons which blocked the 
 way. When a reasonable time had passed, and Major 
 Heiwey had not come, the ladies concluded to wait no 
 longer. I was rejoiced to see some signs of escape, as the 
 very atmosphere seemed infected by the spirit of seces- 
 sion with which I was oppressed. I followed the crowd 
 down the stairs, passed under the palmetto flag and the 
 rattle-snake, and emerged from the entanglement of the 
 artillery, which was still encumbering the passage, and 
 to which the beauty of many ladies' dresses was sacri- 
 ficed. 
 
 There was a crowd just outside the door as we came 
 out. The first person whom I recognized among it was 
 Major Hervey. He apologized for being so late. Mrs. 
 Trueman showed some disposition to hnger. 
 
 " Lionel, I did not know but we might see something 
 of Colonel Berkley." 
 
 " Berkley — oh, no," laughed Major Hervey. " He's 
 too busy to be running about the town, I can tell you. I 
 don't expect to get a minute's speech with him till to- 
 morrow morning." 
 
 This statement was scarcely made, when suddenly hur- 
 rahs sounded fi'om the lower street. A crowd was col- 
 lected before one of the large buildings, and incessant 
 waving of handkerchiefs was going on at the windows 
 opposite. An officer appeared on the balcony and called 
 out to the crowd that Colonel Berkley was not there; he 
 was down at the camp; and a rout ensued in the direc- 
 tion of the camp. I had but just recovered fi'om this 
 evidence of popularity, when I discerned the object of 
 the recent attempt at ovation, coming down the block, 
 arm i^ arm with Colonel Hunter. Berkley stopped to 
 speak to the ladies of the Hervey family, and Cassandra. 
 I stood back with my veil drawn close, and passed um-e- 
 
WHITE CHIMNEYS. 205 
 
 cognized. Many gentlemen of the town, and officers 
 from the camp akeady stationed at White Chimneys, 
 came up with congratulations and commendations. 
 
 "Your regiment acts splendidly, Colonel," said one of 
 these envoys, whose hero-worship was written on every 
 lineament of his face. 
 
 " Acts well enough here," replied Berkley. " How it 
 will act under fire, I cannot say." 
 
 "He's a capital officer," added the gentleman, in a 
 subdued tone, to a friend as the two colonels went on. 
 " They say his regiment was drilled under his own eye, 
 and he knows every man in it by name." 
 
 Major Hervey accompanied us back through the heart 
 of the town, which was still quite upset by the recent ar- 
 rival. It was after sunset when we reached home, and as 
 soon as we were within doors Cassy reported to me her 
 conversation with Major Hervey. She had made him 
 acquainted with her desire to return to ■Washington. Lio- 
 nel had promised to see her across the lines on the follow- 
 ing day, and Mr. Hervey, himself, was to accompany her. 
 
 Cassy owned her anxiety to get back. Her marriage 
 was to take place before the close of the summer; and 
 my sister found it necessary to be under Aunt Bess's 
 roof immediately. 
 
 As I and Helen were to be bridesmaids, Cassy urged 
 me to follow her to Washington by the close of July, that 
 I might be prepared for the ceremony. 
 
 In the midst of all this discussion there was scarcely 
 time to aUude to the event of the past day. I granted 
 a few minutes before midnight to some reflections at the 
 window of our rooms looking towards the village. I 
 judged, from the constant turmoil, that the new- arrived 
 branch of the Confederate army was not yet settled in its 
 quarters, and wondered whether there would be such a 
 tumult in that direction every night. 
 
20G BENSHAWE. 
 
 " I can hardly recover from the fact that you have 
 thrown off your attachment to Berkley so easily," said 
 Cassy. "I always thought that if you were ever in love 
 you would never conquer it in three months — you 
 are such an enthusiast — such a whole-souled creature, 
 Louise." 
 
 '* You actually seem disappointed," said I, laughing, 
 " that I have been so fortunate." 
 
 "I don't understand you. I don't really know you, 
 Louise," Cassy continued, restlessly. 
 
 " You don't see why I was ever so silly ?" 
 " No, I understand that. I was really captivated by him 
 once, myself; but, of coui'se, I love a being so superior to 
 
 Berkley " 
 
 " Superior .'" 
 
 Cassy looked at me with exultation. 
 '' You need not suppose," said I, " that, because I am 
 not so silly as formerly, I am blind to the fact that 
 Berkley is superior to the majority of mankind." 
 
 Cassy chimed in, " Oh, yes — superior — majority, cer- 
 tainly," and not another word could I extort from her 
 that night. 
 
 CHAPTER XXL 
 
 Q^yEN days or more had gone by. No member of 
 tiyj the family had been in the village since its occu- 
 ^^^ pation by the Southern troops, and of the doings 
 there we only learned by rumors. Discontented at last 
 with the seclusion which, though self-imposed, was con- 
 sidered expedient in the unsettled state of the neigh- 
 borhood, the young ladies came to the decision to vary 
 its monotony by a day spent in the woods at Honey ^ 
 
WHITE CHIMNEYS. 207 
 
 Island. The island was described as being a deligbtful, 
 shaded spot, the favorite picnic ground at White Chim- 
 neys, within half a mile of the suburbs of the village, 
 ' and yet too public a place to be at all dangerous. The 
 Chardavoynes, a family of some importance in White 
 Chimneys, were the original projectors of this move. 
 The picnic was to be a thoroughly quiet affair. Nobody 
 was expected to go but the Herveys and the Charda- 
 voynes, though the ladies of the last mentioned family 
 intimated that should an officer drop in, they would not 
 resent the intrusion. 
 
 Not a few of the officers had been fi-equent visitors at the 
 Herveys' domicile for the last week, and the Chardavoynes 
 knew it, wherefore Sophia expressed confidentially to me 
 her opinion that the Chardavoynes, who had never seemed 
 to value their society particularly before, were merely 
 desirous of their presence at the picnic as a magnet to 
 allure the officers, and Sophia acknowledged that of all 
 admirers of the gentlemen in black and gold the Misses 
 Chardavoyne were the most enthusiastic. 
 
 The day before that set for our excursion to Honey 
 Island, I came in from a morning walk, not prolonged very 
 far from the house, found the ladies all on the piazza, 
 and three officers added to the party. Major Hervey sat 
 smoking on the steps. Colonel Hunter was busily en- 
 gaged in mixing punch, with coat-sleeves rolled back, and 
 a peculiarly happy expression of face. The third gentle- 
 man was one whose physiognomy had not gladdened my 
 gaze for a much greater length of time. It was Judge 
 Ostrander's nephew, and his novel attire, as weU as the 
 style of hairdressing adopted by the army, had created 
 such an alteration that I hardly recognized him until So- 
 phia mentioned " Captain Davis." Colonel Hunter was 
 chattering so volubly that no side conversations were 
 possible. He was dilating on the sensation produced in 
 the village by the military camp. 
 
208 RENSHAWE. 
 
 " Town's fairly upset," said Hunter. " Yon havn't been 
 down lately, and you can't know what's going on unless 
 somebody tells you. By George, it makes me think of 
 Miss Austin's novel, Pride and Prejudice, where the he- 
 roine's sisters kept going to Mer^-ton — regiment stationed 
 at Meryton, you know — and the women at Longbourne 
 Tillage were all the time rimning there — some important 
 business, of course. 'V\Tiite Chimneys sees the same sort 
 of thing. "WHien we first came, we never saw a female in 
 the streets, from sunrise till sunset. Began to think the 
 place hadn't a woman in it. State of affairs lasted about 
 three days; then they began to come out like Mayflowers, 
 dozen or so at first — now the place blossoms with them. 
 Of course, there's enough that show themselves once or 
 so, and then go off to blush unseen; but a good many 
 appear every day on the promenades." 
 
 " A great many live in the village," said Mrs. Trueman. 
 " They cannot help that, you know." 
 
 "No, I know they can't; and they can't help running 
 to the window, of course, when a good-looking officer 
 steers in sight. By George, when we first came, an offi- 
 cer was an officer, old or young, handsome or plain; but 
 they've gi'own discriminating now — reserve their best 
 smiles for the best-looking men. Always talking about 
 this one's eyes, and that one's style, and the other one's 
 manners. As for Berkley, he fairly brings down the 
 house. Beauregard's ]3hotographs couldn't go off fas- 
 ter " 
 
 "^Tiat! Are Colonel Berkley's photographs for sale ?" 
 cried Mrs. Trueman. 
 
 " I don't know that they are. Don't get excited. You 
 didn't let me fijiish. I say Beauregard's photographs 
 couldn't go off any faster than Berkley's on the score of 
 good looks, and I've known people look after Beaure- 
 gard in the street — men and women, too — that's a fact. 
 
WHITE CHIMNEYS. 209 
 
 Ever seen him ? Man that owns the daguerrean gallery 
 has been down every blessed day trying to get us to come 
 np there and have our pictures taken, and we've been put- 
 ting him off, and he still keeps coming. Suppose he 
 thinks we'll go and sit just to get rid of him. Jackanapes ! 
 he knows he'll make money by it. He shan't make any 
 off my physiognomy, I'll be sworn. Now the next thing 
 that's come up among the ladies, shooting's the fashion. 
 Heard a tremendous banging about the houses. Didn't 
 know what was afoot. Soldiers forbidden to shoot, you 
 know. Come to investigate, found it was the ladies — 
 whole crowd of them — practising. Got me up. there to 
 show them how. Can't think of their names — know them 
 well enough, too. Very clever girls, too, they are. Quite 
 respectable. You know, Miss Hervey, those young ladies 
 at the house just across the village — big house, overrun 
 with grape vines, and all kinds of vines." 
 
 "Chardavoyne?" 
 
 " Oh, yes, the Chardavoynes — that is the name." 
 
 " So you know them ?" 
 
 "Yes; Chardavoyne introduced me himself, and I've 
 done nothing since but introduce the rest of the officers. 
 It's a great set, those girls are. Not half so afraid of 
 a musket as they are of a fly. I was up there last week 
 to stay all night. Just went out on the piazza in the 
 morning for a smoke. After I had drawn about a dozen 
 puffs they all came out screeching and screaming, ' Oh 
 Colonel Hunter, look at your coat ! ' There the smoke 
 had brought down about three thousand of those green 
 caterpillars. Don't see what business people have to grow 
 such vines round their front doors where people are all 
 the time smoking. I asked the young ladies to take off 
 the caterpillars; but, oh, dear, mercy, they wouldn't touch 
 one of them — trembled, and scattered, and left me alone 
 there to my own resources, and so " Colonel Hunter 
 
210 RENSHAWE. 
 
 began a snapping: of finger and thumb about his ehoul- 
 ders and head to illustrate this point of the nar- 
 rative. 
 
 " And are they learning to shoot ?" 
 
 " Yes — I was going to tell you all about it. Down at 
 Chardavoyne's, I say, this morning, the Chadseys and the 
 Timberlake gii'ls, and, in short, all that tribe, some ten or 
 a dozen of them altogether; and I was trying to teach 
 them to load their guns without filling them up to the 
 muzzle, and they saw Berkley coming along the street, 
 and by Jove they were so excited that they nearly got 
 killed, every soul of them — shot two horses and a nigger's 
 hat, and broke all the windows in the house, and one 
 bullet went right through my hair. Never came so near 
 getting killed in my Hfe." 
 
 " Shoot Berkley ?" inquired Captain Davis. 
 
 " Lord, no ! They took devihsh good care not to shoot 
 him" rejoined the colonel. " They wern't half so care- 
 ful about me. Married man of course — no consequence 
 where I went to. Muzzles all pointed the other way 
 when he came in, I can tell you. So afraid he wasn't 
 coming in that they told me to ask him. Lord! how they 
 did stare ! Nobody spoke above her breath. As soon 
 as he was gone their tongues were faii'ly unlocked. Talked 
 about him all the while I was there. Hervey, don't you 
 think it very bad taste for ladies to entertain a man by 
 praising another one's fascinations up to the skies ?" 
 
 " Certainly," said Major Hervey. 
 
 " Very bad taste," chimed in Captain Davis. 
 
 "Of course it is. Miss Chardavoyne was regularly 
 enraged with me, the other day, because, when she had 
 been executing an au' on the piano, I began to tell her 
 how well my wife played. She walked about, and fanned 
 herself, and muttered, 'Of course, Mrs. Hunter is the 
 finest perfonner in the world.' This morning I was 
 
WHITE CHIMNETS. 211 
 
 tempted to remind her of it, when she was enlarging on 
 Berkley's perfections." 
 
 "Perhaps," said Major Hervey, "they expected you 
 to tell him." 
 
 " To be sure they did. I knew that well enough. Oh, 
 I told him of it. 'Berkley,' says I, 'they're all a pack of 
 devilish fools.' So they are. Just mention his name, and 
 you've touched them off. I don't say they're the only 
 ones. Yesterday morning those Timberlake gii'ls came 
 down to the village, and walked up and down op23osite 
 the arsenal two or three hours, stopping first at one place 
 and then at another, waiting aU the time to see Berk- 
 ley." 
 
 "To see him— what for?" 
 
 " Nothing. Just to see him come out. As soon as he 
 had gone, they went about their business. I wasn't there. 
 You saw them, Davis, didn't you ?" 
 
 " No — Whipplestaff , told me." 
 
 "Yes, I had it from Whipple, too. Reckon he perched 
 himself up to watch their movements." 
 
 Sophia was not a Httle indignant. " What a high-souled 
 occupation!" she exclaimed. "No doubt it was all acci- 
 dental ! Ladies must buy ribbons if officers are in the 
 village. I don't suppose the Misses Timberlake thought 
 of Colonel Berkley at all." 
 
 Hunter laughed. " I would not swear to that," said 
 he. " Two of them were supping at Stileson's the other 
 night, when Berkley came in to speak to me; and by 
 George, those girls put down their knives and forks, and 
 stared at him, fairly lost in admiration — hadn't seen him 
 before, either." 
 
 Major Hervey put in a forcible plea for the young 
 ladies. 
 
 "The Timberlake gii'ls are artists," said he; "Ama- 
 teurs, of course, and the eldest one paints portraits beau- 
 
212 RENSHAWE. 
 
 tifuUy. I suppose they are professionally attracted by 
 Berkley's face. It is natural enough for them to take ob- 
 servations regardless of appearances. I have seen them 
 stare, as you call it, at a female face in the same way." 
 
 "Well, that's confiiTQation," said Hunter. "Two of 
 them saw him, and stared; and as you say they are artists, 
 and prone to stare, they brought the third one down to 
 stare too. 'UTiipple said she had her eyeglasses up as soon 
 as they told her Berkley was coming. Needn't tell me 
 they were down there just to buy ribbons. Berkley 
 never saw them. Officers told him about it last night." 
 
 "How intensely flattered he must feel!" said Sophia, 
 looking quite annoyed. 
 
 "Oh, no; he didn't believe it.. Said, as you did, that 
 the ladies were probably buying clothes, regardless of the 
 officers. That's what he said. Walby thinks Berkley 
 knows it all as well as anybody. Walby's quite disgusted, 
 though I'm sure he gets invitations and courting enough 
 about the village to satisfy one man's vanity. Here's my 
 punch — Miss Hervey try it. I'll give you the recipe for 
 your picnic : One quarter lemonade, and t^o-thirds 
 whiskey. Milk punch: sugar and milk one part, and 
 whiskey four parts." 
 
 Sophia tasted the mixtui'e and put down her glass. 
 ""WTiy not all whiskey. Colonel Hunter?" 
 
 "^\Tiy, if it were all whiskey it wouldn't be punch. 
 Tell the officers you'U give them some of Hunter's punch, 
 (that's the name of the beverage,) and they'll all be down 
 at your picnic. By the way, "Miss Gassy Renshawe has 
 left you. I'm soiTy — was in hopes of seeing her." 
 
 " Gone to Washington," said Sophia. "Tou know her 
 I beheve, Colonel Hunter." 
 
 " Yes — caught a ghm^^se of her the other day in the 
 street. Didn't have a chance to speak to her. She's a 
 very pretty girl. I said so to Berkley. Says I, ' Berkley, 
 
WHITE CHIMNEYa 213 
 
 * that's a very pretty gii'l that's engaged tjo Laud Hervey ;' 
 and says he, 'Devilish pretty girl.' So she is; and what's 
 more, she's a fine, clever girl. I'm indebted to her, Lord 
 knows I am. Why, if it hadn't been for her I should 
 never have seen my old uncle Jonas in his last moments;' 
 she came there and found him just dying, and his wife off 
 at a party; and, George! she was off to my hotel, and 
 had me and my wife on the spot. Capital girl, that Miss 
 Cassy Eenshawe. Sorry she's gone. I was coming up 
 to call on her just the very evening before she left White 
 Chimneys; but Walby took me over the river to look at a 
 spy, or what he took for a spy, and I couldn't come." 
 
 " A spy ?" repeated Da-vds. 
 
 "Yes, you must know we got into a kind of a scrape 
 up in Maryland, at a Uttle one-horse town, called Rocky 
 Cross, and it was all the fault of one woman they said. 
 Some woman had been up at my camp that day after 
 a trunk. All a trick, of course. Don't remember any- 
 thing about her, and Walby was so thundering polite 
 to her — got out her trunk for her, and aU. She 
 sent up the trunk on purpose to get an excuse to 
 come after it, and went off the same night to the Union 
 men at Caney Fork, and had them aU down on us bright 
 and early. Walby thinks her name was Ryan — woman 
 about forty years old, and squint-eyed. He hasn't seen a 
 woman since that he doesn't take for the same person. 
 Curious how he takes it to heart." 
 
 The punch went round the circle just in time to bring 
 Colonel Hunter another subject, and my mind soon 
 grew relieved of some apprehensions to which his late 
 remarks had given rise. 
 
 The picnic prospected was spoken of. Hunter and 
 Davis promised to join the party at some time during the 
 day, and Sophia extended the invitation no farther, quite 
 certain that the Chardavoynes would repair the defi- 
 
214 RENSHAWE, 
 
 ciency. Major Hervey owned that he thought picnics 
 were the greatest nonsense imaginable; but if so many 
 fascinating ladies were coming so near to the camp as 
 Honey Island, dismal as the place was, he could not 
 resist the attraction. 
 
 "A dismal place!" cried Georgy. "Oh, Tiger, how 
 can you say so ! It's beautiful green woods, and candle- 
 stick fixtures on the trees, and the river is lovely." 
 
 The incongruities of the picture did not distui'b me. 
 My only fear was that of meeting Captain Walby. Of 
 course the last person I wished to see, some accident 
 might bring ; but as I had not the least recollection of his 
 appearance, and was confident that he was quite as 
 oblivious of my own, I determined that the sooner our 
 encounter was over the better, and prepared my soul ac- 
 cordingly. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 HOW WE GOT THERE. 
 
 •ULTEY to the verge of oppressiveness was that 
 r?^% day, perhaps the hottest known dming the July of 
 ^^^^'that memorable summer. If our party, on quitting 
 the cool shade of Mr. Hervey's lawn, had known how hot 
 it was, we should not have gone; in which case I should 
 have lost the experience of the day, and posterity the 
 account of what we took, what we wore, and what we 
 went in. 
 
 1st. All wore straw hats, and white muslin dresses — 
 INIiss Renshawe with black bows attached. (Amiable crit- 
 •ics wlU please to overlook the apparent egotism which 
 omits all mention of the appendages of the other ladies.) 
 
 2d. "We took black Lucy, also several baskets of pro- 
 
WHITE CHIMNEYS. 215 
 
 visions, which, not to aggravate hungry readers, I forbear 
 to detail. 
 
 3d. We went in a four-wheeled carriage with the side- 
 curtains rolled up for the sake of ventilation, drawn by- 
 two horses of stalwart proportions, and engineered by 
 black Peter, a young negro of Mr. Hervey's establish- 
 ment, in love with black Lucy. 
 
 Sophia had given orders to the said Peter to drive 
 through "White Chimneys with speed, consequently, com- 
 ing down the main street of the village we raised quite a 
 dust. We found the Chardavoynes akeady gone when 
 we reached their house, and drove on to Honey Island, 
 arriving there about noon, and, much to our surprise, 
 found no Chardavoynes at all. 
 
 " Gone to the village, no doubt, to look for officers," 
 remarked Sophia. " It would be just like them." 
 
 Honey Island was in reaHty no island at all, being 
 merely a peninsulic extravagance of the coast, rendering 
 the river at that pass about half its usual width. The 
 picnic ground was a margin of beautiful green woods on 
 the western cliffs of the stream, intersected by occasional 
 rocks, a place, on the whole, where the sun was not ex- 
 pected to shine, but where it did shine plentifully on every 
 spot where we tried to set the dinner-table. 
 
 What could have detained the Chardavoynes was for 
 some time an unsettled question, settled at last by the 
 appearance of the young ladies en masse. Errands in 
 the village had detained them, and one accession to their 
 party had probably made these errands less burdensome. 
 It was a very tall officer, in huge boots, and full dress 
 uniform, with a very haughty and disagreeable face, in- 
 troduced by Miss Chardavoyne to the company, as "Captain 
 Horace Edward Livingstone Walby, of the staff of Colonel 
 Hunter." Captain Walby, by five profound obeissances, 
 acknowledged the quintuple introduction, and seated 
 
216 RENSHAWB. 
 
 himself on a pile of rocks, amid a group of admiring 
 Chardavoynes, The rest of the company were too busy 
 to think much about him. Several calamities had been 
 discovered. First of aU, the refreshments deposited in 
 a shady place had been attacked by the sun ; and the 
 state of the butter was only matched by that of the ices. 
 All the forks and spoons had been forgotten, except 
 three, and Peter had neglected to bring oats for the 
 horses. Peter was sent to the village to buy oats, and 
 Lucy to the Chardavoynes for table furniture, and they 
 marched off in company. 
 
 In the meantime I had been traversing the grounds, 
 looking for a lost article, and as I examined every blade 
 of grass, and every patch of sea-weed, where I had not 
 been, as weU as where I had, I was between two and 
 thi'ee hours in the search, and at last rejoined the party, 
 thoroughly dispirited with my ill success. I found them 
 aU talking together under the trees, while the magnificent 
 Captain Walby retained the same attitude which he had 
 struck on first taking his seat. Sophia was tending the 
 fire, kindled under the tea-kettle, on the rocks. 
 
 " How soon are you going to have dinner?" demanded 
 Captain Walby, the first words I had heard him utter 
 like a man fairly awake. 
 
 Sophia spread the cloth, and selected aU the viands 
 undamaged by the sun. The captain viewed the opera- 
 tion with an air of great disgust. 
 
 " Do you do this sort of thing yourselves ? TVhere 
 are your servants?" 
 
 '• Oh, I'm not embarrassed by it," said Sophia, conso- 
 lingly. " In my brother's fanuly at the North, where I 
 lived for several years, there was but one servant. I 
 always superintended the cookeiy, and garnished the 
 tables with my own hands." 
 
 "Positively shocking!" pronounced the captain. 
 
WHITE CHIMNEYS. 217 
 
 On Lucy's arrival with the spoons, I was admonished, 
 by loud calls from the trees, that dinner was ready. I 
 left a second investigation of the bushes as unsuccessful 
 as the first, and came dejectedly to the table. 
 
 " What have you been looking for ?" asked Sophia. 
 
 " My pocket-book," I replied. 
 
 Miss Chardavoyne, either because my answer was un- 
 intelligible, or for the sake of being vdtty, said with a 
 siUy laugh to Captain Walby : "Did she say her heart ?" 
 
 " No," said the captain, subHmely sarcastic ; " some- 
 thing that lies very near it ; eh, Mss a — a — um ?" 
 
 " Yes," I acknowledged, " very near it." 
 
 The point of the witticism did not present itself tiU 
 some further observations enlightened me. They were 
 quite audible, though made in an undertone to Miss 
 Chardavoyne. Kefreshingly prominent were : " Long 
 Island family, eh ?" " Wealthy, eh ?" " Mother a woman 
 of property — ah! " Eenshawe! who are they? I never 
 heard of them before." 
 
 As one Renshawe, at least, had never heard of the 
 Walbys before, the misfortune he mentioned was not laid 
 very keenly to heart. He next inquired how much money 
 my pocket-book had contained. 
 
 After taxing my recollection, J. replied, " between four 
 and five dollars." 
 
 "My stars!" said the captain, looking around upon 
 the ladies who were politely inquiring where I had last 
 had the pocket-book. " My stars ! nobody need to be very 
 uncomfortable about that. Why, Miss Renshawe, do you 
 consider that so very much money ?" 
 
 " It might be a great deal to some people," said I, not 
 feeUng called upon to give a direct answer. " I may have 
 seen the time when I thought it a great deal, and may 
 see it again, but apart from its contents, the pocket-book 
 was invaluable to me." 
 10 
 
218 RENSHAWE. 
 
 " A pocket-book, invaluable !" sneered the honorable 
 captain. Lower tone — " that's genteel." 
 
 Sophia took up my defence. 
 
 "I cannot see, Captain Walby," said she, "why it 
 should be ungenteel to regret the loss of a pocket-book." 
 
 'Mr. Walby bowed profoundly; but the bow was one of 
 deference, not of conviction. For some reason he seemed 
 to take an interest in my edification, for all dinner-time 
 he kept up an incessant discourse, interspersed with 
 severe and significant glances at me, mainly directed 
 against parvenues — love of money — vulgar people grown 
 rich — common cu'cumstance at the North — fashion 
 among them to put money before birth and education; 
 but "with all theii' wealth, they were thoroughly despised 
 and studiously avoided by the first families. 
 
 I felt these remarks very unpleasantly; but there was 
 no escape until dinner was over, when I resumed my 
 search. Captain Walby followed at a sauntering pace, 
 and while I looked disconsolately at the bushes, wasted 
 another sentiment on my unappreciative ears: 
 
 " I can inform you, that there are circles where you 
 would suffer positive exclusion, if you were even to inti- 
 mate you thought a pocket-book of value." 
 
 I made no reply, and whatever information the captain 
 might farther have vouchsafed at that juncture, remains 
 undecided, as approaching uniforms were just then dis- 
 cernible through the trees. On seeing more officers, the 
 Chardavoynes were thrown into quite a flutter. Colonel 
 Hunter was accompanied by a gentleman about his own 
 height, with staring black eyes, and hair still blacker, 
 quite short, and disposed to stand on end all over his 
 head. 
 
 " Ladies," quoth the colonel, " we've come down to take 
 tea with you. Oh ! here's !Miss Renshawe ! My dear young 
 lady, I must really beg the privilege of shaking hands 
 
WHITE CHIMNEYS. 219 
 
 with you, I did not know who you were yesterday; didn't 
 exactly hear your name; but you're Miss Cassy's sister, I 
 discover. Miss Gassy and I are great friends, famous 
 friends; and I'm only sorry its not a Southern man she's 
 goin^ to marry; but Laud Hervey's a fine fellow, a capital 
 fellow; and he only needs to be in our army to be worthy 
 of your sister. She's a noble girl, she's not afraid of the 
 devil in horns and hoofs; she wasn't at all afraid of him 
 in hoops and flounces, circumvented old Hinda, I assure 
 you. You know old Hinda? By George! I never'll 
 forget your sister; rushed right into my room ahead of 
 the footman, eyes sparkhng, beautiful as an angel. 
 
 "'Mr. Hunter,' she said, 'your uncle's dying— he 
 wants you immediately — ^go like the wind.' 
 
 " So I went Hke the wind and I got there. Poor old man 
 was just off the hulks. 
 
 " 'Godolphin,' said he, ' I've married a demoness !' 
 
 " Told the truth on his death-bed, that I'U swear to ! and 
 Fve seen your sister since, and though she's as fair as 
 Aurora, she never looked as she did that night in my 
 eyes, and never will, unless she opens my prison door." 
 
 Colonel Hunter dehvered this speech with glowing face, 
 shaking my hands continually throughout. The gentle 
 man who had been left all this time in the background, 
 ventured, by a gentle nudge, to remind the colonel of his 
 presence. 
 
 " Oh ! Whipple, I forgot you ; there you are, to be 
 sure. Ladies, allow me to present to your honorable 
 company, my esteemed friend, Captain Whipple, of the 
 staff of my remarkable colleague and brother-in-law. 
 Colonel Berkley. WTiat's all that you're saying, Whipple ? 
 eh, Whipplestaft'? Oh ! yes, ladies, this is Captain Whip- 
 
 plestaff, of the th regiment of North Carohnians. 
 
 Just keep quiet a minute, Whipple; the ladies can wait 
 for your conversation tiU I get through apologizing for 
 
220 RENSHAWK 
 
 haying brought you. Ladies, Captain Da^^s was very- 
 much detained this afternoon; couldn't get down, and 
 thought "Whipple would hke to come, and not daring to 
 appear all alone, I asked TMiipple, and he's here. Hope 
 you'U not send him away." 
 
 The ladies altogether exclaimed that Captain Whipple- 
 staff was very welcome — very much dehghted, and so on. 
 
 "Yes, you ought to be pleased," said Hunter. " AMiip- 
 ple's a good fellow," and he added aside to me: "affected 
 as the deuce; chatters enough to deafen one; talks fash- 
 ionable Dutch, stutters when he is angi-y; but they won't 
 find it out. Ladies, I have been charged with a message 
 from sundiy of your sex and station at White Chimneys, 
 who are coming this evening with augmented force." 
 
 " Ladies to join our party !" said jMiss Chardavoyne, 
 indignantly. 
 
 " Oh, not many ! only the Misses Timberlake, and the 
 ]\Iisses Chadsey, and the IVIisses Catherill, and the j\Iissea 
 Kenworthy, and the Misses " 
 
 *' Oh ! spare the catalogue !" cried Miss Chardavoyne. 
 " It is an unparelled piece of impudence. We will all go 
 home at sunset, and you may come to supper at oui' house." 
 
 "Stay," said Hunter; "the officers are all coming 
 along with them, and several gentlemen from the village, 
 and a raft of niggers first, to get the place prepared for 
 the invasion." 
 
 This information calmed the indignant lady, and her 
 design of going home at sunset was abandoned. Just 
 then the " niggers " came in sight, and Colonel Hunter's 
 orders were given at once. Two bathing-houses on the 
 sand were pulled down, and rude tables nailed up at 
 intervals about the place, and the lamps attached to the 
 trees were put in lighting order. The colonel ran about 
 expeditiously after the niggers, the ladies followed the 
 colonel, and iVIi\ A^Tiipplestaff lagged around after the 
 
WHITE CHIMNEYS. 221 
 
 ladies; while Mr. Walby sank back on tlie rock, looked a,t 
 his watch, and eyed the performance with occasional 
 remarks evincing his dissatisfaction. 
 
 By sunset, at which time the negroes were dispatched 
 by the colonel to the camp and Stileson's, charged with 
 commissions, we sat down on the cliffs for the quiet hour 
 which we were sui-e would ensue, for it was time for drill 
 at the camp, and Hunter was sure no officers would show 
 themselves till late in the eveniner. 
 
 "Is Colonel Berkley coming down to-night?" anxiously 
 inquired the ladies. 
 
 "Ask^ATiipple." 
 
 Whipple, quite embarrassed at being listened to by so 
 many ladies, cleared hi^ throat, hemmed and hawed, and 
 at last made known that he did not think his colonel 
 could come. 
 
 The Chardavoynes scolded Colonel Hunter. Hunter 
 pretended it was not his fault, and after considerable 
 discussion seemed quite provoked. 
 
 "Ladies, he can't marry all of you," he said, "and what 
 he's to do unless he turns Mormon, and you all emigrate 
 to Utah" 
 
 "Now Colonel Hunter, oh! oh! oh!" Protestations 
 grew vehement. Strangest thing that ladies could never 
 speak well of a gentleman, without being accused at once 
 of designs on his heart. In this case it was pecuHarly 
 painful. So unkind in Colonel Hunter to think so; so 
 inhuman in him to suppose so ; so cruel in him to say so. 
 Nobody there had the slightest intention of marrying 
 Colonel Berkley. Nobody there had been asked. No- 
 body would think of it if she were asked. 
 
 "I'm really quite bewildered," Hunter began. If he 
 was bewildered all the better. Now then, that was a 
 dear good man, couldn't he just run up to the camp to 
 get Colonel Berkley ?" 
 
222 RENSHAWE. 
 
 "Can't leave the camp quiet without a colonel, yon 
 know we can't," said Hunter. " If you would rather have 
 Berkley here than me " 
 
 "Oh! no, no — won't say that; only change with him 
 a while. You see you have been here all the afternoon." 
 
 " I'U be blo^Ti if I have ! just down here long enough 
 to put up the tables and smoke half a cigar. No, by Jove ! 
 you wan't to get rid of me, and substitute Berkley ; I un- 
 derstand it." 
 
 " But where's Colonel Albee ? Can't he take care of the 
 camp to-night ?" 
 
 " Albee's busy; however, I can tell him that you can't 
 live down here without ferkley, and may carry the 
 point." 
 
 As long as the point was carried, the ladies cared very 
 little how it was done. They looked anxiously at the de- 
 clining sun, but Colonel Hunter, regardless of the hint, 
 waited to do full justice to his discontent. 
 
 " You are just Hke that fellow that takes photographs 
 up in the village, ladies, only if it wasn't for your running 
 in to get x^ictures, he wouldn't be pesteiing us to have 
 them taken. Lord ! ^\Tiipple, you noticed how he had 
 his focus turned toward Berkley's end of the canvas. 
 There wasn't a feature in my face that was distinguish- 
 able. Fellow bothered us nearly to death about it, so to- 
 day Berklej" took his staff, and I mine, and went up to 
 the gallery. Suppose I shall see placarded Colonel Hun- 
 ter and staff, and the ladies all saying, what a fine-look- 
 ing staff and black-a-vised colonel." 
 
 "T\Tiat! cried Captain Walby," do you mean to say 
 you have had the staff' photographed while I was absent?" 
 
 " Lord ! Walby, I forgot all about you, I did, upon my 
 soul; but the whole staff' wasn't photographed ; couldn't 
 get them all together. I found two, and Berkley took 
 line officers. Picture-monger said he didn't care ; what 
 
WHITE CHIMNEYS. 223 
 
 he wanted was the group; he was a genteel little fellow; 
 he's a Yankee; keeps round the army; wants to make 
 money, I suppose. Lord ! that's what they all want. I 
 asked him if he was a pre-Eaphaelite ; didn't suppose he 
 could understand me, but Lord ! yes, he was all posted 
 up; flourished away about centre-pieces and subordi- 
 nates, and so on. I told him if he was a pre Kaphael- 
 ite we would all go away again; but he swore he wasn't, 
 and so as it was to be a wood scene, we all went out 
 under the trees to arrange ourselves. I stood up in the 
 middle, and got the rest all bestowed around, and Berk- 
 ley sat off sideways on a rock at the end of the group, 
 and I'll be blamed, when the fellow came out with his 
 machine, his jaws fell a full yard. 'Come,' says I, 'I'm 
 the central figure ; look out for me and hang the subordi- 
 nate figures.' By George ! he wanted Berkley to come 
 up alongside of me, shoulder to shoulder, hke Siamese 
 twins; but I wouldn't budge, and Berkley sat like a part 
 of the rock. So after groaning over it considerably, he 
 took the crowd just as we stood and sat. Finally he 
 took us all pre-Kaphaelite." 
 
 " How was that ?" 
 
 " ^Vhy separately — that is, all but Berkley; he couldn't 
 wait, and I reckon the fellow's got aU the picture he'll 
 get out of him. I staid to see the proofs of the group — 
 Lord ! Walby, you needn't be sorry you were not there. 
 We all looked Hke a parcel of devils. Whipple had two 
 heads and two pairs of arms; got nervous, you see, and 
 turned towards me; and I was a great dim object, with 
 no feet nor hands at all. Suppose the fellow will cut off 
 Berkley's negative and throw the rest away. That was 
 my ad^ice to him when we parted." 
 
 As it was growing quite late, the Chardavoynes were 
 unable to conceal their uneasiness, and Colonel Hunter 
 was ui'ged off with httle ceremony. 
 
224 RENSHAWE. 
 
 It was not long before the evening reinforcements be- 
 gan to aiTive. The grounds soon presented a scene of 
 gaiety far different from their appearance during the 
 more quiet hours of the afternoon. IMiddle aged ladies 
 and young ladies, escorted in the proportion of one gal- 
 lant to half a dozen, appeared in the successively strag- 
 gling parties. Officers and gentlemen came in knots and 
 groups, from camp and village, as soon after drill-hour 
 as might reasonably be expected. The band attached 
 to Col. Hunter's regiment had been for some time by the 
 river-side, and occasional waltzers attempted circulation 
 about the trees. 
 
 Sophia had introduced me to IVIiss Timberlake, and* I 
 led the conversation shortly to the art of painting, 
 which I knew we should find a congenial subject. ^Vliile 
 we were conversing, a thin consumptive looking gentle- 
 man, about fifty years of age, came up to speak to ^liss 
 Timberlake. He thanked her for the late service she had 
 rendered him, mentioned that he had just been at Mr. 
 Hervey's, was told that the young ladies were at Honey 
 Island, and had come down to see them. As he went 
 on, I asked my companion his name. 
 
 "Mr. Laud, said she; a brother-in-law of !Mr. Hervey. 
 I have just been painting his niece's portrait for him — 
 Mi'S. Lionel Hervey." 
 
 As jMrs. Trueman had come up, this topic was dropped 
 at once. Our trio took seats at a spot not the best 
 lig-hted on the gi'ound. Messrs. Walby and Whipple- 
 staff had reinforced our group, and the gladdening vision 
 of Captain Davis was shortly added to the party. We 
 all bade him a cordial welcome, and he seated himself at 
 the most available place, which was just by me. The 
 people generally were at supper, and some cofi'ee and 
 sandwiches were distributed among our pai-ty. Captain 
 Walby had declared frequently, he thought it time for 
 
WHITE CHIMNEYS. 225 
 
 supper, but lie looked askance at the sandwiches and 
 scowled over the coffee. 
 
 "Miss Kenshawe, haven't you lost a pocket-book?" 
 asked Davis; and he produced a well worn article of 
 leather, secured by a plain elastic strap. 
 
 " Oh, Captain Davis ! you have found it ! I am so, so 
 grateful to you!" I exclaimed, warmly. 
 
 "My conscience!" exclaimed Captain Walby ; "is that 
 the pocket-book you have been making such a time 
 about?" 
 
 " Captain Walby," said I, " this pocket-book was a last 
 gift from my late father." 
 
 This mild rebuke, I trusted would put an end to the 
 captain's strictures on my recent sohcitude, ^d quite 
 silenced he went back to the sandwich. 
 
 " Who told you I had lost a pocket-book ?" I said to 
 Davis, when the first flash of my gratitude had subsided. 
 
 " I knew by the contents." 
 
 This answer surprised me. My name was nowhere 
 inside, not even a card ; the only paper it contained was 
 that prophecy of Canton Lecompton, which had re- 
 mained there ever since my inspection of it at Mrs. 
 Ostrander's. I was burning to ask Captain Davis some 
 further questions, but he was too much engaged in Hs- 
 tening to Captain Walby, who was explaining the intri- 
 cacies of his connection with the great families of the 
 realm ; saying that he had always scolded his mother 
 for not having named him Hamilton Livingstone Walby. 
 As it was, he always called himself, Livingstone Walby 
 — H. E. Livingstone Walby — sometimes at home he was 
 called Horace, in a playful manner by his sisters, but 
 Livingstone was really the name he delighted in. 
 
 " My family," began Captain Whipplestaff. 
 
 " Your family, what are you talking of?" said Walby, 
 indignantly. 
 
 10^ 
 
226 EENSHAWE, 
 
 " Talking about the "Wlnpplestaffs of cauth. The 
 fii'st "WTiipplestaffs came over in the fleet of Ponce de 
 Leon, Captain Walby " 
 
 "I thought that fleet perished off the face of the 
 earth," remarked one of the company. 
 
 Captain ^Miipplestaff said that was quite a mistake. 
 
 "Walby turned a scornful shoulder, and Captain Whip- 
 plestaff addressed his narratiye to IVIrs. Trueman, res- 
 pecting some manuscript left by his ancestor, containing 
 a succinct account of the voyage and expedition. 
 
 At this juncture, the sound of some very clear voices 
 .became raised among the crowd, about the tables, and 
 every one was silent to listen. A certain plea had been 
 put in for the North ; by what ventm-esome soul I did 
 not discover; but venturesome he certainly was, who so 
 spoke in the face of all those Confederate uniforms, and 
 secession-badged coats. The gentleman who had spoken 
 was not a Union man, or if he was, his sentiments were 
 not uttered in full ; but he had remarked, that the mass 
 of people at the Noii:h were probably deluded by their 
 leaders into believing that they had a warrant for their 
 invasion on the Southern soil. 
 
 He was answered — answered in a voice I hardly recog- 
 nized, it was so long since I had heard it. " No such 
 delusion," the speaker said, " could possibly exist. The 
 gentleman did not know what the North was. Never 
 was there a country so lowered, politically, socially and 
 morally. A detestable Yankeeism — and that idea was 
 one that no other term under Heaven could render — per- 
 vaded its society, to the same extent that it imbued the 
 whole tone oi its Uterature. The standard of those men 
 who led the masses was not an elevated standard. He 
 would not say that honor and principle were unknown 
 at the North, but they were not the fashion there. The 
 people were actuated by no other principle than the love 
 
WHITE CHIMNEYS. 227 
 
 of plunder; by no other patriotism than the promptings 
 of envy. As for the honor of the North, there were the 
 AboUtionists, venomous snakes, who had been spitting 
 their venom at the Divine institution of Slavery, who 
 would see the very flames of the sun at mid-heaven 
 quenched in blood without compunction, shrinking back 
 from the open field now that it had come to actual con- 
 test. — Why, enough was said of the honor of the North in 
 the fact that those men had not had their necks stretched 
 years ago." 
 
 The pale middle aged gentleman, whose name Miss 
 Timberlake had said was Laud, asked Sophia the name 
 of the speaker. 
 
 " It's Colonel Berkley, of the — th regiment of North 
 Carolina," said Sophia. 
 
 " Very sound man," was Mr. Laud's rejoinder. 
 
 "Is that Berkley?" said Captain Walby, looking up 
 with some animation. " Pretty well done for him I must 
 say." 
 
 Colonel Berkley's interlocutor went on to say that the 
 North did not know them, nor they the North. 
 
 " And God forbid," rejoined Berkley, " that we should 
 ever know each other better." 
 
 The gentleman, growing bold from opposition, said 
 that it was not well to listen always to one side of a case. 
 He thought injustice had^ been done the North, by mis- 
 representation in the Southern papers; for instance, the 
 common report connected with the enhstment of the 
 notorious Wilson zouaves, must be an exaggeration. 
 
 If you think that the Southern papers," said Colonel 
 Berkley, " have exaggerated the fact, that a gang of 
 pickpockets and thieves were recruited from the lowest 
 dens in New York, to fill the ranks of the Northern 
 army, perhaps you may believe the account theii* own 
 press gives of the matter." 
 
228 RENSHAWE. 
 
 A newspaper was here unfolded, and Berkley read 
 aloud, in his most animated manner, an exti'act relating 
 to the regiment alluded to — full of details of a scene at 
 the recruiting office, where the commanding officer 
 charged his " boys " that they would all be in hell in six 
 weeks, and took a vote on their willingness to go there. 
 
 " Now, then," demanded Berkley, as he crushed and 
 threw aside the paper, " what shall be said of the cant- 
 ing hypocrites, who laud their own cause as the right- 
 eous and true, when they openly fight with such weapons 
 as these? For those blasphemous wretches hell has 
 reserved its blackest damnation, and the mercy of heaven 
 itself is not equal to the stupendous task of their forgive- 
 ness !" 
 
 Such indignation as that manifest through the assem- 
 bly it had seldom been my lot to witness, and consider- 
 ing against whom it was dii-ected, its ebullitions were far 
 from pleasant. Sparkling eyes — miu'murs of " outrage- 
 ous," " abominable," etc., — murmurs growing almost into 
 hisses, rose on every side. For my own part, all I could 
 do was to possess my soul in patience, and reflect on 
 the multitudinous ways in which the world did itself 
 injustice. I sank imder an invincible dejection, and 
 from my obscure station, which I had now no wish to 
 leave, watched the faces in the company, reahzing how 
 thoroughly I was among foes — every soul there, with the 
 exception of those who, like myself, were nowhere, hos- 
 tile to the cause in which my whole heart was bound up. 
 I keenly regretted the circumstances that had thrown me 
 here into a nest of rebels, where I was forced to Hsten to 
 abuse of my country, and hear aspersions cast, and reflec- 
 tions made on the government, which were enough to 
 outrage the common sense of those with whom prejudice 
 had not gained the upper hand of reason. Chief of all I felt 
 incensed against Berkley. Was I not conscious, in my 
 
WHITE CHIMNEYS. 229 
 
 own soul, tliat in his representation of the North, he had 
 known that he had not done justice to that great and 
 magnanimous community? Could he be so deceived as 
 to believe all he had said, or was I without the power to 
 judge? At aU events, never had I felt so roused. I 
 watched the rebel colonel with a hostile heart, regarded 
 with jealous eyes the evidences of favor in which he was 
 held, and those evidences were numerous and conspicu- 
 ous to a painful degree. He was always in a crowd. 
 There was some one on the right, on the left, and before 
 him continually. Ladies paused in the promenade to 
 make passing inquiries, some even to offer their hands. I 
 gazed as they floated about him, with their waving fans 
 and graces, and marked his smiles, and words, and inter- 
 ested eyes, stri-\dng to realize that this was the man whose 
 disloyal sentiments had been so recently, and so unpleas- 
 antly obtrusive. 
 
 I was not a little vexed with myself to find that I had 
 been looking forward all the afternoon to a probable meet- 
 ing with Berkley in the evening, with anticipations of 
 pleasure. An unnoticed witness of the late scene, my 
 sentiments had entirely changed. I felt now only un- 
 quahfied, irrepressible indignation, and my determination 
 was taken to avoid him as far as possible, and to quit 
 Honey Island without seeing him at all. This was a very 
 easy matter. As I before intimated, Berkley was at no 
 loss for society, and until the moment that he quitted the 
 ground not a word did he exchange with me. 
 
 It was about ten o' clock when the party broke up, and 
 began to disperse with the carriages. Black Peter had 
 gone for ours among the first servants so commissioned, 
 but carriage after carriage rolled away, and ours came 
 not. Everybody that ive knew had gone except the 
 Misses Chardavoyne, and Messrs. Hunter, "Walby and 
 Whipplestaff; and Sophia, growing very anxious at the 
 
230 KENSHAWE. 
 
 unaccountable delay, at last sent Colonel Hunter to 
 what had become of Peter and the horses. 
 
 CHAPTER XXni. 
 
 HOW 'wt; got back. 
 
 UNTER came back and brought Peter with him, 
 that faithful domestic being in quite a state of ex- 
 citement. Neither horses nor carriage were to be 
 found, and he had gleaned from some niggers that some 
 thieves had been seen with some horses and carriages, and 
 gone off somewheres, but nobody could tell where. 
 
 This was intelligence bewailed by the principal suffer- 
 ers, and treated with sympathy by the rest of the party. 
 The first consideration that presented itseK was to get 
 home as well as we could. A set of open horse-cars ran all 
 summer through White Chimneys. The last one for that 
 night was just going. The Chardavoynes were among the 
 passengers, and it was hailed by dint of considerable hal- 
 looing by three officers, and called upon to make room for 
 nine persons. Room there seemed to be in plenty. The la- 
 dies of the party hurried in, and Captains Walby and TMiip- 
 plestaff took the front seat just back of the driver. This 
 car went nowhere near the Herveys', though it ran close 
 to ^Irs. Chardavoyne's, and after some consultation with 
 Colonel Hunter it was decided that we should all get out 
 at Stileson's hotel, and there hire a carriage which should 
 convey us home directly. 
 
 This arrangement had been happily perfected, when 
 Colonel Hunter, leaving us in the care of the other gen- 
 tlemen, and engaging to meet us at Stileson's, went back 
 
WHITE CHIMNEYS. 231 
 
 for his horse to the picnic-ground, while the car proceed- 
 ed with its precious charge. It soon began to dawn upon 
 me, from certain intimations in front, that our gallant 
 escort, Walby and Whipplestaff, had partaken of the cup 
 that cheers before it inebriates; at least Captain Whipple- 
 staff 's frame of mind appeared to be extremely cheerful. 
 He was exceedingly good-natured, giggled incessantly, 
 and addi-essed himself to his companion with a levity 
 which that individual bore with sing-ular patience. 
 
 " Have you got any cigars, Walby ?" 
 
 Walby produced a roll of the twisted leaf which he 
 handed his companion — the latter selected a cigar, and 
 threw the package back — over Walby's head, out of the 
 car. Walby rushed out, picked up the cigars, and ran after 
 the car, which the conductor declared he could not stop 
 for anybody — behind time, now, twenty minutes ; and 
 the captain regained his seat with some difficulty. Wal- 
 by informed his companion, rather severely, that he had 
 better not do that again. "Whipplestaff's amusement on 
 this charge reached its height. He giggled incessantly, 
 annoyed Captain Walby by asking, " Did you get it ?" — 
 " Now reaUy, you did not get it, did you ?" and declar- 
 ing, several times over, " Well, before I'd run so far for a 
 roll of bad cigars, I'd buy anothah." 
 
 The next event that occurred to furnish variety, was, 
 that Captain ^Vhipplestaff, in his endeavor to knock off 
 Captain Walby's hat, precipitated Miss Chardavoyne's 
 parasol out of the car. The conductor swore the car 
 couldn't be stopped for aU the parasols in creation. Cap- 
 tain Walby got out thereupon, while the car was going, re- 
 gained the parasol, and followed up the car with a much 
 longer chase than the preceding one. Quite out of 
 breath he regained his seat, and restored the parasol. 
 ]VIiss Chardavoyne thanked him most graciously, and 
 Captain Whipplestaff giggled again to that extent that 
 
232 RENSHAWE. 
 
 all the ladies pronounced among themselves opinions 
 antagonistic to his gentility. If these low-toned verdicts 
 reached his ear, they had no effect on his hilarity, or his 
 attacks against Captain Walby's hat, which he succeeded 
 in knocking off about a dozen times. Captain Warlby 
 changed his position several times — several times said se- 
 verely, " Don't do that again, "Whipplestaff — you'd better 
 not, really," all without effect. Pretty soon the hat went 
 off as we were crossing a bridge. It went down into 
 the water. Exclamations arose. The car was stopped, 
 and wlule evei-ybody was saying, " "What a pity !" — " what 
 a shame!" — " too bad!" etc., Captain Walby stood at the 
 end of the bridge looking down with a very profound air, 
 possibly quite forgetful of those lofty circles, whose sen- 
 tence would be " exclusion," upon regi'et at such a trifling 
 loss. The di'iver ran down the bank after the hat — dis- 
 appeared under the bridge. The conductor, in a state of 
 desperation took the reiQS. The car went on. Eveiy- 
 body inside called out not to leave so many people; so 
 the car stopped again. Pretty soon, back came Captaia 
 Walby, the driver, and the hat. Captain Whipplestaff, a 
 little sober dui'ing the pui'suit, seemed threatened with 
 convulsions, when Captain Walby looked at him, and 
 advised him not to do that again ! Probably contented 
 with his recent success. Captain Whipplestaff limited fur- 
 ther display of his wit to verbal attacks on his brother in 
 arms, asking repeatedly, " Did you get it ?" — " You 
 wouldn't have got it if it had not been for that feUow 
 in fi'ont." " He went down in the mud up to his knees." 
 "I'd give him some money if I were you." "Really it's 
 quite miwackulous about that hat of youahs, Walby. I 
 didn't think you'd evah see it again." 
 
 Captain Walby treated the boyish folly of his compan- 
 ion with a silence that was quite sublime. We were very- 
 glad that the lights at Stileson's gave warning of release; 
 
WHITE CHIMNEYS. 233 
 
 and bidding the Chardavoynes "good-night," we went 
 into the hotel, while Colonel Hunter humed back to the 
 livery stable connected with it to find a conveyance to 
 take us home. After a lengthy tan-ying in the parlor of 
 the hotel on our jDart, Colonel Hunter rejoined us with 
 the intelligence that we would be obliged to wait some 
 minutes for the horses, and that in the mean time he 
 begged we would come in and have supper before pro- 
 ceeding further. Supper would be ready in a very few 
 minutes. Mrs. Trueman, it was plain, did not know how 
 to refuse. After extorting a promise from Colonel Hun- 
 ter that we should be informed at the precise minute the 
 horses came, she consented, and we were ushered into a 
 saloon adjoining, hung with secession colors, and took 
 seats at a table where Stileson's negroes were arranging 
 cold fowls and wines in all the order that their profusion 
 would admit of. In the middle of it all voices sounded 
 without. Colonel Hunter, who had just laid aside his 
 gloves for the task of carving, rushed to the door, and 
 called upon quite a party in the hall to enter. One after 
 another, in came the Misses Chardavoyne, Captain Da- 
 vis, Captain Walby, and Captain Whipplestaff. An acci- 
 dent had happened to the car, and they had all come back 
 to Stileson's, to wait. Just as they were all established 
 about the table it transpired that Colonel Berkley was 
 without talking to Mr. Stileson. Vigorous calls for Col- 
 onel Berkley ensued, and the Chardavoynes were at the 
 summit of bliss when that gentleman appeared in all his 
 glory. 
 
 If there had been any possible way in which, without 
 making myself unduly conspicuous, I could have with- 
 drawn from the company on the spot, I would have then 
 and there taken a step to which my wrath against Colonel 
 Berkley strongly prompted, me. But to leave now, that 
 everybody was seated at table, was a measui*e by which I 
 
234 RENSHAWE. 
 
 did not need to be told more would be lost than 
 gained. 
 
 " Uncork the bottles, Berkley," said Hunter ; " I'm 
 glad you've come. Peter, what are you gaping at ? — get 
 the cork-screw !" 
 
 Colonel Berkley had just been speaking to me ; it was 
 true he had not said much, but something was due, con- 
 sidering how long a time it was since we had last met, 
 and my rephes were as satisfactory as ill-stifled resent- 
 ment would allow me to make them. They were not so 
 enchanting as to detain Berkley long, and the next min- 
 ute he appeared to be quite oblivious to my statehness, 
 among the bottles in ice, which stood at his elbow. The 
 corks came off, and the bottles were passed up the table. 
 
 " Now, gentlemen," said the outspoken Colonel Hunter, 
 who, at this point, appeared to think some caution was 
 necessary, " I beg you will not forget that this is not a 
 mere gentleman's oyster-supper, though it is after twelve 
 o'clock. Bear in mind that there are ladies present, and 
 be careful of your language and your glasses." 
 
 "Sir," rejoined Captain Walby, in tones of rebuke, "I 
 may safely say that I never exceed the bounds of de- 
 corum in my potations, and I never converse when with 
 gentlemen in any different language fi'om that which I 
 use when ladies are present." 
 
 "You should be chaplain," said Berkley, while the 
 ladies all gazed on the captain with approbation. 
 
 "It's a gweat humbug," mui-mured ^Ir. WTiij^plestaff. 
 "Didn't you indulge in pwofane language to-night? I 
 thought I heard something pwofane to-night, when you 
 stood by the bwidge, Captain Walby." 
 
 " Captain TMiipplestaff had knocked my hat into the 
 water," said Walby, " and I appeal to every one present, 
 if that was not an occasion where I played the gentleman 
 and he played the fooL" 
 
WHITE CHIMNEYS. 235 
 
 "Not to use more gwaphic terms," put in Captain 
 Whipplestaff. The tide had set in against him there, 
 however. The gentlemen all exclaimed : " Oh, Whipple- 
 staff — knocked his hat off — very wrong of you." 
 
 " Can't stand by you in that, Whipple," said Hunter. 
 Captain Walby very superbly went on to express his 
 pleasure that he found himself, for the first time that 
 evening, in congenial society. The picnic had been such 
 a horridly mixed affair. All sorts of people there. To 
 be sure, it could not be very well avoided ; but it was 
 very unpleasant not to know who you would stumble on 
 next. It was bad enough in the army; how persons of 
 plebeian extraction had crept into the Southern army, it 
 was impossible to say. 
 
 " I suppose he means me," said Captain Whipplestaff 
 meekly. " Peter, give the cold chickens to Captain Walby, 
 and pass him the wine. Colonel, it's time theah was 
 anothah bottle in this diwection !" 
 
 Another bottle was not long in coming, healths were 
 offered and pledged by all the company. Quite unex- 
 pectedly, Colonel Hunter turned at las^to me and asked 
 for a toast. No excuse would be accepted, though one 
 was feebly attempted — the glasses were filled anew — I 
 saw that every eye was on me — all were waiting for my 
 voice. It needed no temerity on my part to speak — it 
 would have tested my self-command too powerfully to 
 check those words at my lijos. I lifted my glass and dis- 
 tinctly announced "The Stars and Stripes." 
 
 There was a dead pause ! Colonel Hunter said gravely. 
 
 " I do not think we are equal to that ! I leave it to 
 Berkley." 
 
 " I have no objection to the United States flag, per se," 
 said Colonel Berkley, more courteous in tone than in sen- 
 timent. " May it remain in its proper place, and be for- 
 given its trespasses." 
 
236 RENSHAWE. 
 
 "Well, you'll consent to modify your toast, IMiss Ren- 
 shaw," said Hunter ; " stars and stripes, certainly ; eleven 
 stars lately subtracted fi'om tliii'ty-four, leaves twenty- 
 three. You'll say twenty-three stars, won't you?" 
 
 " Thikty-foub ! " I answered; "my toast is the Stars and 
 Stripes — forever may they wave over the thirty-four 
 States of the American Union !" 
 
 Colonel Berkley replaced on the table the glass which 
 he had taken in hand while awaiting my modification. 
 His example was so far followed by the whole company 
 that not a glass stirred. At all events, I had attracted 
 attention enough for the present. 
 
 "Pray, Miss Eenshawe," said Hunter, in a shghtly 
 bantering tone, " are you an abolitionist ?" 
 
 If I had never been an abohtionist before, I could 
 have become one on the spot, to reply to that question : 
 "I am! Colonel Hunter." Resolutely this was spoken. 
 
 "My goodness, IMiss Renshawe!" said Walby, "you 
 needn't get up all that style to accompany such an an- 
 nouncement. We're not going to eat you for it." 
 
 "We'll di'op nohtics, for the present," said Hunter, 
 " and war into the bargain. Miss Renshawe, your first 
 toast won't go down in this assembty ; you may give us 
 another. Give us something sentimental, or moral, or 
 social, I entreat." 
 
 But I^Iiss Renshawe was not in a temper of mind to 
 frame anything more agi'eeable just then. Full of ire at 
 the treatment to which the first toast had been subjected, 
 the second was more daring still. 
 
 " Very well, — ^here's to the utter downfall of the slavehold- 
 er's institution, and the ruin of his unrighteous rebellion." 
 
 I was not embarrassed by the fact that nobody drank. 
 I had not expected any such compHment. There was 
 silence for one moment, then I heard Captain Davis say 
 that the moon was up, and that it was a very pleasant 
 evening. 
 
WHITE CHIMNEYS. 237 
 
 Tliis was sufficient intimation that nothing farther was 
 expected from me, and having partially relieved my mind, 
 I determined to say no more. While the supper lasted, 
 the gentlemen, on whom my formidable toast appeared 
 not to have made the slightest impression, entertained 
 themselves and the company by numerous bonmots, 
 anecdotes, and songs of a convivial nature. The bottle 
 was passed and repassed, glasses were filled again and 
 again ; when the champagne failed, the Madeira was cir- 
 culated; when the Madeira gave out, sherry was called 
 for. The gentlemen imbibed and sang, and the ladies 
 exchanged glances of apprehension. 
 
 In the midst of a song of a dozen stanzas, ending with 
 the chorus, " One good time before we die," Sophia, who 
 sat next me, intimated her intention of asking either 
 Berkley or Davis to see us safely at home immediately. 
 I objected on the ground that nobody there was respon- 
 sible, and Sophia answered emphatically, " You are mis- 
 taken, Berkley took no more than two glasses, and Davis 
 is sober, I am confident." 
 
 I gave mentally all the commendation that such in- 
 stances of virtue could inspire. Davis was too much en- 
 grossed by the Chardavoynes, to have any attention to 
 spare, and Berkley, after a moment's conference with 
 Sophia, quitted both the table and the room. 
 
 " Now we will withdraw as soon as possible," said Miss 
 Hervey to me. Taking advantage of the first opportuni- 
 ty, while the gentlemen were standing with brimming 
 glasses, singing an ode to Dixie at the top of their 
 voices, we left the building. Outside, in the starHght, 
 stood a baggage-wagon and two horses. Berkley and 
 Stileson were busy with the harness about the horses' 
 heads. 
 
 "If these be specimens of Southern chivalry," I re- 
 marked to Sophia, " I must say I prefer the manners at 
 the North." 
 
238 KENSHAWE. 
 
 " Hush !" said she, in warning that Colonel Berkley was 
 close at hand. I had known it before, and had intended 
 him to hear. Whether he had or not, he let the observa- 
 tion pass unnoticed, and assisted us, one after another, 
 into the conveyance. The Chardavoynes and Captain 
 Davis all came out together. Davis bidding us a hurried 
 good-evening went away on foot ; the jVlisses Charda- 
 voynes joined us in the vehicle. 
 
 " Can't we go now ?" asked Sophia. 
 
 Berkley had sent for the cui'bs. He was unwiUing to 
 drive those horses, unused as they were to wheels, with- 
 out them. The curbs soon came, but were not so soon 
 adjusted. Before that task was complete the voices of 
 the other gentlemen sounded within. No expedition 
 could avail. 
 
 " You will drive us home, won't you?" said IVIrs. True- 
 man, eai'nestly, to Berkley. 
 
 " Ceitainly," repHed the colonel. 
 
 " Oh, dear !" shrieked Miss Chardavoyne, apparently 
 threatened with hysterics. " They will kill us all — they 
 are dreadfully tipsy — dreadfully " 
 
 " No, they're not," said Berkley, reassui'ingly. No fur- 
 ther time was allowed for colloquy. The three gentlemen 
 had rushed upon the scene. 
 
 "Well, Berkley," said Colonel Hunter, "what the 
 devil were you thinking of to attempt such a thing as 
 this ! Don't you know you can't drive without smashing 
 up my baggage wagon, and killing my horses? You 
 haven't got the seats or the buffaloes adjusted. Walby, just 
 help me spread down the buffalo-robe to protect the 
 ladies' feet fi'om the bottom of the wagon." 
 
 This charge exasperated Captain Walby beyond meas- 
 m-e. "Sir," said he, drawing himself up to his full 
 height, " Sir, my gi-andmother was a Livingstone, and 
 do you suppose I would demean myself by touching a 
 
WHITE CHIMKEYS. 239 
 
 buffalo-robe? No, sir, I have been taught to discard 
 that sort of thing in favor of servants." 
 
 " Well, Chardavoyne," said Colonel Hunter," if your 
 grandmother wasn't a Livingstone, you can help me 
 adjust the buffaloes. Hold the horses well, Berkley, 
 Whipplestaff 's standing on the wheel." 
 
 "I don't see how I'm a-g-g-going to get in," said 
 Captain ^Tiipplestaff, " or where I'm to sit when I have 
 g-g-got in." 
 
 " That's right Whipple, look out for number one," said 
 Hunter. The ladies all protested there was plenty of room. 
 Captain Walby took his seat beside me, just behind that 
 left vacant for Berkley. 
 
 " Are there four horses ?" somebody asked. 
 
 "No, two!" "FouiM" The assertion was hotly dis- 
 puted. It was not settled till a plunge of the horses pre- 
 cipitated the whole party backward, and cast several caps 
 out of the conveyance. Vigorous shouts of " whoa " on 
 the part of the gentlemen, and a jerk on the reins from 
 Berkley, who was still on terra-firma, restrained the 
 steeds till the caps were picked up, and after three cheers 
 for General Beauregard, our charioteer got in and we rode 
 away. 
 
 Sophia leaned forward and asked Berkley in an under- 
 tone how soon we should be home. His reply, " twenty 
 minutes," was consoling. His comrades kept up an in- 
 cessant and boisterous mirth. A song broke forth with 
 the inspiriting refrain, " We'll hang Abe Lincoln on a 
 gallows of wood." It was sung and resung, interspersed 
 with shouts and laughter. "We'll hang him!" "Yes, 
 we'll hang him to-morrow." " Can't to-morrow." " WeU, 
 to-night. Hurrah ! I say, Berkley, won't we take 
 Washington to-morrow, and hang old Lincoln ?" 
 
 " Yes," replied the colonel. 
 
 " You hear that. He says yes," shouted Mr. Char da- 
 
240 EENSHAWE. 
 
 voyne. " TMiat's the use of waiting till to-morrow ? 
 We'll hang him to-night. Colonel Berkley, can't you 
 take Washington to-night?" 
 
 " Oh, certainly," replied the Colonel. 
 
 " I've been pondewing," said Mr. Whipplestaff, " if we 
 don't hang him" 
 
 " Oh, we will hang him. What in thunder are you 
 talking about?" 
 
 " You don't heah what I'm twying to say. I say, if we 
 don't hang him on a gallows" 
 
 " Confound you, Whipple," roared Captain Walby, "why 
 the deuce do you keep saying if we don't hang him ? I 
 tell you we will hang him. He's as good as hung now !" 
 
 "Well, suppose he is hung, then, you simpleton; I say, 
 if it's not a gallows of wood, what kind of a gallows could 
 it be that we could suspend him to, eh ?" 
 
 This profound question seemed to puzzle the gentle- 
 men Tastly. Mr. Chardavoyne pulled at his glove tops, 
 and shook his head vacantly. Captain WTiipplestaff sug- 
 gested another song. " Stwike uj^, Walby, and see if you 
 can't pull the bwandy bottle fi'om undah the seat. I'll 
 take it the west of the way. Seems to me the hawses are 
 vninning up the banks, Colonel. I've wost my equiwib- 
 wium thwee times since I set out." 
 
 The way was thus beguiled until the Chardavoynes' 
 gate was reached, when the ladies descended. IMi'. Char- 
 davoyne hallooed to his sisters that he wasn't coming in 
 then. He'd ride up to jMi's. Hervey's, and see the other 
 ladies safe at home. 
 
 ]\Ii'. Davis had gone up the lawn with the young ladies, 
 and the baggage wagon rattled on once more. 
 
 "I must really say," I remarked to Sophia, "that if 
 these be Southern gentlemen " 
 
 Hunter had overheard the unfinished sentence. " You 
 raving still against the South, Miss Kenshawe ? What 
 are you here for ? Why don't you go back to the North?'' 
 
WHITE CHIMNEYS. 241 
 
 Nothing in the world could have roused my ire like 
 this unceremonious suggestion. " I have a perfect right 
 to be here," said I; " a perfect i:ight to travel on any high- 
 way in the United States." 
 
 "We don't dispute that, madam," said Walby, "but 
 this is not United States ground any more. There are 
 rights, to be sure — two sorts of right, I admit. One, the 
 right of private invitation, which you have, and the other, 
 a political invitation, which you haven't; though we do 
 allow all sorts of people to come here, and we tolerate 
 them here. All sorts of trash and parvenues come just 
 as they like " 
 
 "And go away," said Captain "Whipplestaff, "in the 
 same mannah, with all sawts of lies about us at the North." 
 
 Mrs. Trueman said something about misrepresentations 
 being likely to arise on both sides. 
 
 "None on our side," said Hunter. "Lord, we that 
 have been to the North don't give half an idea of it. 
 We can't. I didn't dream it would be such a place as I 
 found it. Worst place I ever was in." 
 
 " Then why," said I quickly, " did you stay there, if 
 you liked it so Httle ?" 
 
 " Didn't stay. I came away as quick as I could. Wo- 
 men all a parcel of school-mistresses and hoydens. I 
 never met one there that didn't carry a loaded pistol. 
 One lady I knew personally knocked a man down with 
 a piano stool." 
 
 " Exactly so," said Walby; "I knew a lady there that 
 kept a knife on purpose to stab her husband when she 
 wanted money. Used to drive him in a corner, and prick 
 him with it, and I'm told it's the usual custom." 
 
 " And it's the custom theah," said Whipplestaff, " for 
 the wadies to go awound and call on the gentlemen. Pwac- 
 tice begins befoah they are well out of pinafaws." 
 
 " They have a day for that," added Hunter; " day after 
 11 
 
242 RENSHAWK 
 
 New Year's. New Year's day is the gentlemen's day, and 
 next day the ladies return the calls." 
 
 These audacious statements were evidently received 
 vrithout a question. 
 
 "That's it," said TSTiipplestaff. "The day after New 
 Y^'eah's; and always, when a gentleman goes away, they 
 follow him to the fwont doah, and help him on with his 
 ovah-coat." 
 
 " A fi'iend of mine," said Captain Walby, " called on a 
 lady at the North, and she blacked his boots while he was 
 there. Parlor full of company." 
 
 At this stage Mrs. Trueman spoke. 
 
 "I do not know, gentlemen," she said, " from what cir- 
 cles of Northern society your observations have been 
 taken, but it is consoling to think that there are many 
 where the manners you describe are wholly unknown." 
 
 A reinonstrance like this, from so gentle a soui'ce, de- 
 served more respect than it received. My own wi'ath was 
 gathering, but I struggled to suppress it. 
 
 " AboHtion circles," Hunter supposed, " up in Boston." 
 
 "I know nothing of Boston," said Mrs. Trueman. "I 
 never was there. I aUuded to other places." 
 
 "Well, they may have some refined enjoyments," re- 
 marked Chardavoyne; "Blue-stocking clubs, nigger re- 
 vivals, and tea-di'inkings, Boston, and elsewhere. Colonel 
 Berkley knows — he's been there." 
 
 "Yes," cried Sophia Hervey; "let Colonel Berkley 
 speak. "Are you not candid enough to acknowledge that 
 there is good at the North?" 
 
 " I do not deny," said. Berkley, while every one paused 
 to catch the autocrat's opinion, "that there is a great 
 deal that is good at the North, but it comes from the South.'* 
 
 " That's true," said Hunter. " All theii' clergymen and 
 statesmen are fi'om the South; and we gave them all 
 their artists — even their actors." 
 
WHITE CHIMNEYS. 243 
 
 This was more than all I had heard claimed for the 
 South before. Still I strove to possess my soul in patience. 
 
 Sophia appealed to Berkley. "You," she said, " shaU 
 be our champion. You must own that there is native 
 talent among the Northern people. Can you not give 
 them credit for their artists, orators, and statesmen?" 
 
 " I might for the female element, Miss Hervey," he re- 
 joined. 
 
 The discussion behind us had grown more noisy. Wal- 
 by alluded to some recital of a " tar and feathers " adven- 
 ture as "another Northern lie." 
 
 "Heaven dehverme!" I exclaimed, "from lies that are 
 not of the North !" 
 
 Sophia admonished me that my language was too 
 strong. 
 
 " I cannot help it," I cried. " I must speak. I have 
 listened this night to the most outrageous calumnies, and 
 from one who should have blushed in his inmost soul to 
 listen to them! You have aU heard and beheved the 
 story told you about the Wilson Zouaves, and I protest 
 against it as an infamous, cowardly falsehood." 
 
 Berkley uttered a low laugh. It was echoed rather 
 faintly, for the vehemence of my words produced an im- 
 pression. 
 
 " The Northern women are geniuses," sneered Walby, 
 " in every line of business." 
 
 " What could you expect ?" demanded Berkley, knock- 
 ing the ashes from his cigar, " when they act, they are 
 unnatural and melodramatic — when they paint pictures, 
 they fill their canvas with devils and brimstone; and, of 
 course, when they protest and denounce they must be 
 consistent." 
 
 Nothing could have incensed me like these words. I 
 felt the ends of my fingers tingle with wrath, and tried to 
 speak, but could not command myself sufficiently. 
 
244 EENSHAWE. 
 
 "My dear Louisa," said Mi's. Tnieman, mildly, "you 
 will be misunderstood. You do not mean to say that tlie 
 "Wilson Zouaves do not exist?" 
 
 " I know this," I cried, " that they have not done what 
 those who rail against them are guilty of. There is 
 more hope of the most degi'aded ruffian among them 
 than of men here who do not scruple to engage in 
 diaboHcal conspiracies, involving arson and assassina- 
 tion." 
 
 On these words, Berkley haK checked the horses, turned 
 about, and looked at me with an expression that fairly 
 chilled my wrath. Hunter seemed thunderstruck. 
 
 " Good heaven ! jMiss Renshawe — you don't dare" 
 
 "It's not of the shghtest consequence," said Berkley. 
 " This lady will dare to do nothing that will so far im- 
 peril her own reputation." 
 
 " What does she mean ?" exclaimed Walby. 
 
 " Going to expose the Black Robin Club to the author- 
 ities," said Berkley, facetiously. "Will you try it in 
 White Chimneys, madam ?" 
 
 "W^ell," said W^alby, pompously, "if we are convinced 
 of nothing else, we are convinced, at least, of the violence 
 and vulgarity of the Northern ladies." 
 
 " I advise you, for your own sake, to be silent," said 
 Berkley to me. 
 
 " Come, come," Hunter interposed; "this has gone too 
 far altogether. W^e'll di'op the subject. W^e would be 
 neighbors and good Samaritans, if we were all on a des- 
 ert island. If we've quarreled all the way up, it's a 
 good reason we should make up and be friends forever. 
 I'm sure you'll all subscribe to that." 
 
 Somebody said " aye," but very feebly. Hunter pushed 
 the matter, and urged us to shake hands all round; and 
 as I had come to a better state of feeling, I actually 
 leaned forward to offer mine to Berkley. 
 
WHITE CHIMNEyS. 245 
 
 He turned away. Hunter reproved him, but there was 
 no reply, and at that moment the vehicle stopped at the 
 gate. 
 
 "Colonel Berkley," I urged, "you provoked what I 
 said, but I retract it. I have no idea of saying anything 
 about the Black Robin." 
 
 " You'd better resign the idea in White Chimneys, I 
 think," he rejoined. The other gentlemen had descended, 
 and were aiding the ladies out of the wagon. I was 
 about rising, but Berkley's hand was on my shawl. " Has 
 this termination been sufficiently agreeable to suit you ?" 
 
 " Hardly," I answered, tremulously. 
 
 " Miss Renshawe next," said Hunter. 
 • "You must wait for her," rejoined Berkley; and as I 
 was attempting to pass he stopped me effectually. "Miss 
 Renshawe does not leave this till I have kissed her as 
 many times as there are States in the glorious and indis- 
 soluble Union." In the mean time I had endeavored to 
 release myseK, found myself a close prisoner, and desisted. 
 
 "It is impossible, sir," I said, with much emotion, 
 that you are guilty of such coarse levity as this. Let me 
 pass, and I will endeavor to forget it, or to disbeheve the 
 unwelcome evidence of my senses." 
 
 " No levity about it. I'm in earnest." It became ap- 
 parent that he was in earnest, as his threat was put in 
 execution. " Say there are twenty-three States, Miss 
 Renshawe, and I'll stop at that, or if you'll join the Con- 
 federacy, and subscribe to eleven, we'll split the differ- 
 ence. You like Northern manners, and I take compas- 
 sion on you.'* 
 
 "Your insults, thank God, recoil on yourself," I 
 gasped. Here I remembered myself, and stopped. I 
 lifted my hands and turned my face upward. Stars, hiUs, 
 and heavens swam before my eyes; but Berkley's low and 
 heartless laugh rang out mockingly on my ear. 
 
246 RENSHAWE. 
 
 "Good Lord! you've been among the Sculptors. That's 
 beautiful ! It needs only a stake and a flame ! It's a 
 model for us. You see when you denounce the Black 
 Kobin we will be the martjTs, not you." 
 
 His arm relaxed. I caught Hunter's hand, and sprang 
 to the ground. Berkley followed with my hat and gloves, 
 which he mockingly offered at the gate. I had burst into 
 tears as soon as my escape was assured; and as my sobs 
 would not permit me to speak, turned away with a vehe- 
 ment gesture, not to be misconstrued. 
 
 " We are enemies, are we ?" he said. 
 
 "Forever !" And my whole soul went out in that one 
 word. The ladies had wished the gallant escort a 
 stately good-evening, and the baggage-wagon rolled away 
 once more. 
 
 I had governed myself, if not weU, at least as well as I 
 could, until we were within doors; but then -came a reac- 
 tion. Never in the whole course of my life had I yielded 
 to such ungovernable passion. I utterly lost my self 
 command. What I said is quite beyond my power to 
 remember. The other ladies stood back, amazed and 
 silent. Pretty soon the bell rang, and in came IMr. Davis 
 with my gloves and hat, which Colonel Berkley had sent 
 with a message. * 
 
 At the announcement I astonished the envoy beyond 
 measure. I crushed hat and gloves into the grate before 
 his eyes, cried out to him to deliver no message to me 
 from Colonel Berkley, if he ever expected me to speak to 
 him again, and tore round the room, reiterating the 
 charge till my voice was so convulsed with passion that I 
 could say no more. Davis stood apparently lost in aston- 
 ishment, and silently waited tiU the storm subsided. At 
 last I came up, still unable to control my agitation, and 
 attempted some apology for my violence, but it flamed up 
 anew at the first mention of its occasion, and I fairly 
 
WHITE CHIMNEYS. 247 
 
 deafened Davis by my declarations that if he dared to 
 mention Berkley's name again I would never forgive 
 him. 
 
 "My dear Miss Renshawe," protested Davis, "this is 
 not the way in which a lady should behave when she is 
 ill-treated. Allow me to remonstrate." 
 
 "Indeed," I demanded, "and how shall I behave?" 
 
 "Why, quiet and dignified, of course. That is the 
 proper way to make an impression." , 
 
 " I don't care to make an impression. I don*t act for 
 effect." 
 
 " I know you don't, but at all events you will listen to 
 me. You are assured of my friendship. Now, then, 
 come and sit down here quietly, and listen to me. You 
 really ought to hear the message. I can't go back to re- 
 port it as not delivered." 
 
 The calmness manifested by every one else had its effect 
 on my nerves, and I grew sober enough to listen to 
 Davis's manifold admonitions and counsels. He declared 
 at once that, in his opinion, Berkley had acted very out- 
 rageously, and that he deserved to be knocked down and 
 severely horsewhipped. 
 
 Everybody nodded assent. Davis represented that he 
 did not wish to report to Berkley that he had left me in 
 a passion. If I were thoroughly composed, my determin- 
 ation would have weight. 
 
 " Composed or not," said I, " I can Hsten to no apol- 
 ogy whatever from Colonel Berkley." 
 
 " My dear Miss Renshawe," exclaimed Davis, " did 
 you infei: that the message I bring is of an apologetic 
 nature ?" 
 
 " If it is not I will hear it," I said, instantly. " My 
 wrath needs fuel ?" 
 
 " Colonel Berkley has sent me to tell you to leave the 
 Confederacy within twenty-four hours." 
 
248 RENSHAWTE. 
 
 " What is the penalty ?" 
 
 " I do not know. That's the message." 
 
 For one moment I stood there almost overwhelmed by 
 this announcement. A deeper wrath entered my out- 
 raged soul. 
 
 " Then, Captain Davis, you will take Colonel Berkley 
 this answer from me. I will leave what you call South- 
 em soil when I see fit to leave it, not before ! Go within 
 twenty-four hours I wiU not ! Let him do his worst." 
 
 ]\Ii*s. Trueman uttered some words expressive of her 
 indignation that Berkley should so conduct himself 
 toward a guest in their family. 
 
 "It is aU very unfortunate," groaned Davis, "but 
 Miss Renshawe may rely on my aid as far as I can afford 
 it. I can only give it by promoting peace between her 
 and Colonel Berkley. He may regard her in a different 
 light by to-morrow." 
 
 "]\Ir. Davis, it matters nothing to me how I am re- 
 garded by a scoi-pion. You see I am calm, and I charge 
 you, as you are my friend, to attempt no reconciliation. 
 I win thank you rather to increase the discord." 
 
 " Ah, that's easily done," he answered. "I wiU teU the 
 Colonel the last word I heard from ^liss Eenshawe's hps 
 was scorpion, and he will resign himself to an eternal 
 enmity. Ladies, good-night." 
 
 CHAPTER XXTV. 
 
 ^E were aU seated round the breakfast table the 
 [.|next morning, with our souls wrought up to a 
 pitch corresponding to that of the previous night, 
 and loading the members of our escort with the oppro- 
 brium they severally deserved, when there was a bustle 
 
WHITE CHIMNEYS. 249 
 
 in the hall, and suddenly, before they could be announced, 
 or otherwise be heralded, in came Hunter, Walby, Whip- 
 plestaff, Chardavoyne, Davis, and last, though not least. 
 Colonel Berkley. 
 
 We all rose at once, and as Berkley stood by one door, 
 I ventured to leave by the other; but Colonel Hunter 
 caught my hands. 
 
 " Come, Miss Kenshawe, don't go. Here we are all in 
 sackcloth and ashes. Ladies, ladies, give us a hearing. 
 Mrs. Hervey, will you please to exhort these young ladies 
 to listen ?" 
 
 After this appeal, quite earnestly made, the ladies all 
 paused, and Colonel Hunter, who appeared to be acting 
 as spokesman for the party, proceeded: "Ladies, your 
 faith in the decency of human nature must have led you 
 to expect us. We have not come to justify ourselves; 
 We cannot; but we confess candidly at once that we have 
 behaved very improperly, very shabbily, very shamefully 
 indeed, and we offer you all our earnest apologies, and 
 our strong assurances that nothing of the kind shall ever 
 happen again." 
 
 Mrs. Hervey, in a very agitated voice, acknowledged 
 that the conduct of the gentlemen toward us all had been 
 so thoughtless and culpable as to wound her and us be- 
 yond measure. She was gratified to find that the gentle- 
 men regretted it, as she was aware that in the then un- 
 settled state of society, the omission of this slight re- 
 paration would have brought them no censure. 
 
 "I do not hold," said Hunter, "that the unsettled 
 state of society releases us from the obHgation to be gen- 
 tlemen. My dear madam, we are all a party of penitents, 
 and for my own part I am ready to go on my knees to all 
 the ladies in this room, and ask their pardon for my bad 
 behavior, and for all the rest of us. And, ladies, you 
 will sincerely obUge us if you will treat us as though soci- 
 11* 
 
250 RENSHAWE. 
 
 ety was in its usual condition. If your heart prompts 
 you to say up and down, ' Grentlemen, you are all a par- 
 cel of villains,' for heaven's sake say so." 
 
 Certain low-voiced exclamations from all the ladies of 
 the assembly were audible. The tide had fairly set in 
 Hunter's favor. I had changed my intention of quitting 
 the room. I expected that Berkley would renew person- 
 ally the charge he had given me by proxy, to depart from 
 the insui'gent States. I made up my mind to let him 
 reveal all the blackness of heart which he possessed. I 
 stood waiting the sentence, with my soul wrought up to 
 defiance, still determining to hear without reply. In the 
 meantime aU the gentlemen had begun to plead their own 
 cause, which they did with great fervor. 
 
 " This is quite a favorable termination," said Hunter, 
 in evident glee at the issue. " Why, ladies, on the way 
 up, we were in absolute despair ; didn't dare to come 
 without going after Davis — after Berkley — no, Davis — 
 both of them ; they are the only white sheep in the 
 company." 
 
 " There is one apology due Mrs. Hervey, due all the 
 ladies, from me," said Berkley. 
 
 These words called general attention. The rebel colo- 
 nel went on to make his apology. He had sent a message, 
 on the previous evening, to a lady who was Mrs. Hervey's 
 guest, to leave the Confederacy. He desired to retract 
 that message, and to declare to the family, and to the 
 young lady herself, that he could never sufficiently regret 
 that it was sent. That young lady, and indeed any 
 guest of Mrs. Hervey, was entirely welcome to remain in 
 the Southern Confederacy as long as she chose, and he 
 would be most happy to have the honor of protecting 
 her in so doing. 
 
 Flashes of my last night's ire came over me. The 
 apology was made in a way that charmed everybody 
 
WHITE CHIMNEYS. 251, 
 
 present, and was accepted by all but myself. I stood 
 with my heart and face in a glow, turned away from the 
 speaker toward Hunter, who was bringing the scene to a 
 close. Many adieux and " au revoirs " were uttered. 
 The last words heard were those of self-accusation ; hopes 
 that the ladies would not remember the past in the future ; 
 assurances that a repetition of last evening's scene should 
 never occur ; fears lest they were not entirely forgiven. 
 In the midst of all this contrition, Davis came up to me. 
 
 "Berkley would like to see you a moment, Miss 
 Renshawe." 
 
 "I must beg to be excused." 
 
 "I am really too ambitious of the office of peace- 
 maker to take back that reply. Miss Renshawe." 
 
 "That is absolutely my reply." 
 
 Davis di-ew back. They were all going. In the last 
 farewell, after which they reluctantly tore themselves 
 away, it was obvious that all unpleasantness was entirely 
 buried. Colonel Hunter shook hands all around, and 
 blessed us most enthusiastically ; and as soon as he was 
 out of hearing, he was pronounced by all our enchanted 
 party, ' perfectly lovely.' 
 
 The sense of perfect loveliness was done justice to all 
 breakfast time. Sophia at last said to me : 
 
 " I forgot to tell you that Berkley was very desirous to 
 speak to you, Louisa." 
 
 " And why did he not ?" said I. " I staid, though I 
 should have left the room. I am sure that gave tacit 
 consent to converse with any one that was here." 
 
 " No ; he said he did not dare to speak to you, espe- 
 cially as you did not notice the general apology he made 
 for his message to you." 
 
 " Say no more about him," I exclaimed ; " I am glad I 
 saw him this morning ; now I know of a truth that I detest 
 him. The very sound of his voice is odious. I have 
 done with the whole Southern Confederacy forever." 
 
252 RENSHAWE. 
 
 At ten o'clock there was more news from the town. 
 The Southern troops that had occupied White Chimneys 
 had all gone, were in full retreat from the place, to a man. 
 
 This was the first news. Later in the day the facts 
 were elucidated. Colonel Albee was still in White 
 Chinmeys, his regiment being necessary to hold the 
 place, but Colonels Hunter and Berkley were many miles 
 away. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXV. 
 
 )ILES away sounded the steady roll, like that of 
 muffled thunder, which had agitated aU White 
 Chimneys on the 18th day of that July. It had 
 been over long before anything farther than a thousand 
 uncertain and distracting rumors, brought us any expla- 
 nation ; but Mr. Hervey soon came uj) from town with 
 the details. 
 
 There had been a battle ; that was certain. The Union 
 troops had attacked a Confederate force at Blackburn's 
 Ford, and had suffered a repulse. 'Mr. Hervey reported 
 the excitement at "WTiite Chimneys as excessive. Seces- 
 sion flags were hoisted through the town. Stileson's 
 was up all the while the battle was raging. i\lr. Hervey 
 had received several intimations, on the way back, that 
 made him think it best to remain at home until the pubhc 
 fervor was allayed. 
 
 Sophia's indignation, long nursed in silence, found vent 
 in some sentences condemnatory of the Southern rebel- 
 lion, and those who took part in it. 
 
 " We cannot rail against them," said Mr. Hervey ; " our 
 tonofues are tied. This strife is fi-atricidal — suicidal! 
 Those who fight us are not only our brothers, but — our- 
 
WHITE CHIMNEYS. 253 
 
 selves. We can only be silent and trust in God for the 
 
 issue." 
 
 This observation, breathing the spirit that actuated the 
 North too long to its own injury, brought no answer from 
 the group. Mr. Hervey spoke again. 
 
 "I met my brother-in-law this morning, at Stileson's, 
 and we are all invited to his house to-night. It is a small 
 party, as I understand it— a military party. I had not 
 the heart to ask many questions. I accepted the invita- 
 tion, and we must set out early. I am fearful of the 
 new horses, and would like to cross the river before 
 sunset." 
 
 From Mr. Hervey's uneasy manner, I felt inclined to 
 believe that he was fearful of other things than the new 
 horses. 
 
 " Go !" cried Sophia ; "how can you speak so, brother? 
 We cannot go ; I will not. I am a loyal woman, and 
 how can I, after this battle, so decided, go to the house 
 of a rebel, to meet rebel soldiers, whose hands are im- 
 brued in loyal blood ?" 
 
 " Sophia," said Mr. Hervey, gravely, " there are issues 
 at stake which you do not realize. I must give up this 
 happy home, and we will soon all be outcasts. The thun- 
 derbolt falls directly here! The desolating fiend has 
 chosen this spot to be blasted by his fires ! This State is 
 to be the theatre of war ; these lands will be laid waste 
 by the fire and the sword ; these forests and plains will 
 be a barren wilderness. We do not know how soon the 
 change will come. To-night we go to this house, and 
 to-morrow we may be glad to find it our asylum. My 
 brother-in-law spoke of the possibiHty this morning to 
 me. Again, our family suffers much from the malice and 
 dislike of the neighborhood. Should we not go, our 
 conduct will be construed amiss. Only this day sneering 
 remarks have been made to my face. If I am ever to 
 
254 RENSHAWE. 
 
 escape, with my family, the fate which I dread for them, 
 we must be solicitous to avoid all censure now." 
 
 The good sense of these observations was beyond dis- 
 pute. Sophia yielded, though I plainly saw how un- 
 pleasant was the necessity. 
 
 " We will be forced to endure much that we might 
 wish to avoid," continued 'Mi\ Hervey. "My brother 
 tells me that Mary will be there." 
 
 A sudden damp on these words pervaded the spirits of 
 the party. Sophia's lips were compressed, as though 
 with pain. 
 
 '' We will be forced to be reconciled at some time," 
 remarked ]Mi's. Heiwey ; " it may as well be now." 
 
 " The cup is full," said !Mrs. Trueman, with a sigh of 
 resignation ; " I had hoped never to see that woman 
 again. Sophia, what do you say ?" 
 
 " I am quite prepared for anything," replied that young 
 lady. " Matters can't be very much worse than they are. 
 If she bows to me I can sui'vive it." 
 
 "T\liat shall you do about it, father?" inquired Mrs. 
 Tmeman. 
 
 "My advice would be to receive her," repHed Mr. 
 Hervey. 
 
 " Receive her," repeated ^Irs. Hervey. " My dear hus- 
 band how can you speak of it ? She is a very wicked 
 woman." 
 
 " I know," rephed 'Mr. Hervey, " but as we cannot 
 deny the connection, we may as well reap some of the 
 advantages of it. She has been a great favorite among 
 the rebels at Eichmond, and I know is anxious to be re- 
 ceived by us. We may find her assistance invaluable at 
 some time when we stand in need of a fiiend 
 
 "I would not accept such assistance," said Sophia. 
 
 "My dear child," replied Mi'. Hervey, "when you are 
 as old as I am, you will find that it is a fooHsh thing to 
 
WHITE CHIMNEYS. 255 
 
 make an enemy needlessly; and in this case the enmity 
 would be powerful. I do not advise any hypocrisy to- 
 ward the girl; all I counsel is to treat her civilly. It 
 vsdll be no more than your duty, need do no violence to 
 conscience, and wiU leave jou nothing to regret." 
 
 My interest was strongly awakened by this colloquy, 
 and it was not vdthout some hope of having it gratified 
 that I followed my companions to the scene of their 
 preparations. 
 
 " Papa seems to imagine," remarked Mrs. Trueman, 
 "that we may be going on a longer journey than we 
 anticipated at first." 
 
 " I shall pack my trunk," replied Sophia. Mr. Laud 
 may take us for a caravan ; but his house is large and 
 would hold five times our number." 
 
 We moved about for some time, taking refuge in the 
 bustle of preparation from thoughts of a more saddening 
 kind. Carohne first alluded to the expected evening. 
 
 " The officers," she said, "will not feel much like com- 
 ing, if any of them were shot in battle this morn- 
 ing." 
 
 " Those that are shot will not feel like coming," said 
 Sophia ; " but it will not hinder the rest. If aU his 
 staff were killed before his eyes to-day. Colonel Berkley 
 would go to a ball to-night quite as readily." 
 
 I knew of no grounds on which I might dispute this 
 assertion. 
 
 "Mrs. Trueman now made an allusion to the other 
 subject that had attracted my interest, asking what 
 they were to do about " Mary." 
 
 " Louise knows nothing about her," remarked Sophia. 
 " You must be made aware that the individual whom we 
 were this morning discussing is my nephew Lionel's wife." 
 
 I said I had supposed as much. 
 
 " You would be inclined generally to look upon Major 
 
256 EENSHAWE. 
 
 Herrey as a sensible being, would you not ?" Sopliia 
 proceeded. I assented, of course. 
 
 "Once upon a time," Miss Hervey continued, "his 
 good sense failed him at the \ery crisis where he stood 
 most in need of it." 
 
 "It is a mesalliance I believe?" said I. 
 
 "I wish," retui-ned Sophia, "that it were nothing 
 more than usually comes under that name. "^Tien a 
 man marries a woman who is rich, young and very beauti- 
 ful, the world would find some other name for it I infer." 
 
 " I am then to conclude," I remarked, " that marriage 
 is a lottery in which Major Hervey drew a blank." 
 
 " He held an exceedingly bad ticket," said Sophia ; 
 " and I will leave it to you, whether I ought to be civil 
 to a woman whom I beheve capable of committing any 
 Clime, for the sake of propitiating all Rebeldom ?" 
 
 " Certainly not, if you think her so very wicked," said 
 I. " Does your brother know her character ?" 
 
 " Oh, my brother looks on these things in a different 
 light; he's a man, and men always have more charity to- 
 ward oui' sex than we have for each other. Beside this, 
 woman is very fascinating. She has charmed him ; 
 also ^Ii'. Laud. He is perfectly bewitched. Every man 
 who knows her thinks the same." 
 
 " I suppose you counseled Major Hervey against such 
 a marriage ?" 
 
 " No, we didn't. Before we knew anything about it, 
 hardly who she was, they were married. She was the 
 adoi^ted daughter of George Berkley's uncle, iVIr. John 
 Brandegee. She was under General Berkley's guardian- 
 ship for a while, and created a great commotion there. 
 ;Mi's. Berkley said Dan was absolutely in love with her; 
 and he was a man as Httle likely to fall in love as any one 
 I ever knew. Then Colonel Berkley was engaged to her 
 until she behaved in such a horrible manner that they 
 
WHITE CHIMNEYS. 257 
 
 were obliged to dissolve the engagement, and send her 
 away from the house. We know all the circumstances, 
 but we are not at liberty to disclose them." 
 
 At one clause in the revelation, my preparations had 
 come to a full stop. 
 
 . " Miss Brandegee !" I repeated ; " and once engaged 
 to Colonel Berkley ! I heard of her from Mrs. Ostrander, 
 from several persons. Is that the lady whom your 
 nephew married ?" 
 
 "That's the lady," Sophia answered, "whom my 
 brother was duped into marrying. Mrs. Ostrander takes 
 her part, and has probably told you that the Berkleys 
 were in the wrong, but I know they could not have acted 
 othei-wise. Mrs. Ostrander is one of the few whom 
 Mary has been able to deceive ; and as the Berkleys 
 were too honorable to say anything about her, she 
 usually stands well with her new acquaintances till she 
 gets found out. Lionel is probably sorry enough that 
 he married her, though he will not acknowledge it." 
 
 " She is beautiful, you say ?" 
 
 "Very; did you ever see Hildebrandt's Desdemona, 
 that was on exhibition at the Dusseldorf Gallery in New 
 York for so long? Mrs. Lionel Hervey is the living 
 reproduction of that picture." 
 
 The conversation here was dropped, and we were too 
 busy with the melancholy task of preparation to resume it. 
 
 CHAPTER XXYI. 
 
 Y eight o'clock that evening, we rode into the 
 village known as Luney's Lock, and stopped be- 
 fore the most pretentious and brilliantly Hghted 
 mansion in the principal street. The event of the battle at 
 
258 RENSK\WE. 
 
 Blackbm-n's Ford had evidently not changed the plan 
 of Mr. Laud's hospitality, however it had agitated his 
 household. 
 
 " You are to be hostess to-night," said he to ^Ii-s. 
 Hervey, as he met us at the gate. " I have been watch- 
 ing for you an hour." 
 
 "We were ushered into the brilHantly lighted hall, and 
 up the broad staircase, by a negro in a footman's livery; 
 and hastened to put the finishing touches to our respec- 
 tive costumes, before appearing in the parlors. The 
 house was furnished with elegance which its exterior 
 had scarcely promised. The appui'tenances of the rooms, 
 designed for use, were of elaborate workmanship; while 
 the merely ornamental decorations were of value, be- 
 tokening great wealth on the part of the owner. But 
 I could not bestow more than a passing consideration on 
 any embellishments of the sort. There was a gi'eat 
 weight on my mind, which I hoped after that night to be 
 relieved of. Captain Davis's allusions on the evening 
 at Honey Island, made me determine that more of an 
 explanation would have been accorded me, had an 
 opportunity offered, and I intended, if he should be at 
 'Mr. Laud's this night, the opportunity should be taken. 
 My chief dread was that of meeting Colonel Berkley. 
 My mind was wrought up to that pitch, that I desired 
 neither to see nor speak to him again; and though I knew 
 it would be quite possible to avoid him during the even- 
 ing, still I was fain to avert the prospect of the agitation 
 that his appearance would cause, by reflecting that ]Mr. 
 Laud did not know him, and it was scarcely possible 
 that he had been invited. 
 
 Li the hbraiy, a small room on the first floor, where I 
 stopped to await the rest of the party, a portrait poised 
 on a table against the walls, without fi'ame, and evidently 
 but just finished, attracted my attention. My gaze was 
 
WHITE CHIMNEYS. 259 
 
 riveted, when I perceived that the face was one of touch- 
 ing beauty. It was the face of a very young female, and 
 the strong likeness it bore to the Desdemona in Hilde- 
 brandt's master-piece, would have led me to think it a copy 
 of the same, had not Sophia's remark about the hkeness, 
 raised an immediate suspicion of the identity. It was a 
 fallacy, I thought, that the face was the index of the 
 soul; for that expression did not betray the demoness. 
 
 As the minutia of the party dress had been attended 
 to before we set out, it was not long before the rest of the 
 party descended, and I was called away from my contem- 
 plation to follow them to the drawing-rooms, where the 
 guests were already beginning to assemble. 
 
 Eank secession breathed in all the air around — even 
 from the leaves of the plants outside the windows of the 
 hall. The glass doors which opened all around the 
 house, admitted the refreshing air of the summer evening, 
 which circulated as freely as under the trees and shrub- 
 bery, forming a dehghtful shade about the house. A red 
 flag stretched across the chimney-piece, engraven on 
 which, in large letters, were the words, " Battle of Centre- 
 ville, July 18th, 1861. Success to our arms.'* In the 
 farther saloon was the figure of Justice, painted on a 
 shield; over her head, "God for the right," shone out in 
 sparkling characters. In one hand she held a drawn 
 sword, and from the other floated the flaming capitals 
 " C. S. A." A company, in which I looked in vain for a 
 familiar face, was assembled in the parlors, but apart 
 from the flaunting badges that checkered the throng, 
 and the rebel insignia displayed on the walls, there was 
 something in the ill-dissembled exultation which shone 
 on every face, that would have revealed to me how the 
 battle had affected it. I saw it with a shrinking of 
 the soul which I did not attempt to mask on my features, 
 and after my introduction to Mr. Laud, drew back with 
 
260 RENSHAWE. 
 
 the single wish of remaining as unobserved and as un- 
 daunted as possible. 
 
 There I was alone in the crowd. I gazed on the 
 moving figures, the waving fans, Hstened to the gay- 
 voices, recalled the oft-applauded pecuharities of the 
 Southern manner, which was all abandon and all good 
 breeding, and asked myself, in witnessing this tacit exul- 
 tation over a temporary triumph, whether the >attle 
 of CentreviUe had really decided the fate of the nation. 
 It seemed so there. A sense that was worse than that 
 of mere isolation oppressed me. The Herveys were used 
 to it, seemed in a measure to have fallen in with it; they 
 appeared to have effected a sort of compromise, but to 
 me there was no such feehng — they were all foes. 
 
 I had di-awn back behind Mrs. Hervey's chair, and she 
 was talking to her brother about the officers. 'Mx. Laud 
 said he did not know who was coming. He had given 
 Colonel Hunter carte-blanche to ask all he could muster, 
 but that being several days before the battle, perhaps 
 Colonel Hunter had forgotten all about it. Lionel had 
 gone to the camp that afternoon, however, and had 
 promised to refi'esh his superior officer's memory. 
 
 But neither Colonel Hunter nor the officers to whom 
 he had seen fit to extend ^h\ Laud's invitation, were so 
 obHvious. Before ten o'clock, the rooms were ahve with 
 steel and buttons, and I was looking among their num- 
 bers for famihar faces, when I was diverted from the 
 scrutiny by the sight of a young lady, who looked in at 
 the hall door. The air and manner of this female, were 
 in themselves sufficient to rivet my gaze, apaii: from the 
 recognition that revealed her as the original of the por- 
 trait, which I had seen in the library. The figui-e was 
 one of unrivaled elegance, in spite of the fact that it was 
 rather under the medium height, and the large dark eyes, 
 so fuU of soul, were the ruling feature of a beautifully 
 
WHITE CHIMNEYS. 261 
 
 moulded face; while the self-possession and grace of the 
 young lady's air, were strangely contradicted by the 
 youth and freshness of her countenance. 
 
 After a moment's scrutiny of the apartment she came 
 just inside the door, swept after her the train of a dress 
 elaborate and very long, and resting one gracefully 
 rounded arm, banded with a string of jewelry, against 
 the piano, turned her girlish face toward a group of 
 officers with a bow of salutation, which brought one of 
 their party at once to her side. 
 
 It was Captain Davis. He had actually come, and not 
 knowing how soon he might go, and eager not to lose my 
 opportunity of speaking to him, I crossed the room until 
 I was fio near the hall door as to render it a foregone 
 conclusion that he should see me next. Almost at the 
 same time Mr. Laud came up to shake hands with Davis, 
 and I heard him ask where Colonel Berkley was to-night. 
 A sudden displeased contraction appeared on the face of 
 the young lady; her large full eyes flashed up as though 
 with pain, and her lips were momentarily compressed; 
 but the next moment all was serene as ever. Captain 
 Davis informed Mr. Laud that Colonel Berkley and Col- 
 onel Hunter, both, were exceedingly busy — it would be 
 impossible for them to come very early, and possibly they 
 might not come at all . As soon as Mr. Laud had gone 
 on, Captain Davis fortunately saw Miss Kenshawe. 
 
 I did my best immediately to promote Captain Davis's 
 entertainment, and prevent his wandering away; my 
 great scheme for the evening being to elucidate his 
 knowledge of Mr. Lecompton's mysterious letter. Ke- 
 marks were made on the trees, on the music, on the stat- 
 uary, on the wind; on everything in short, but the battle, 
 which we both avoided by tacit consent; and on the one 
 subject which I longed but did not know how to approach. 
 
 Major Hervey had approached our group, but did not 
 
262 RENSHAWE. 
 
 interrupt our t6te-a-tete, only to address in a half whis- 
 per the lady I had so admired; it was received by her 
 with eyes fixed on yacancy, and a negligent toss of the 
 fan against the piano-case; a careless monosyllable was 
 given in answer to his question; then she took his arm, 
 and he led her across the room, and introduced her to 
 Mrs. Heiwey. 
 
 " ^Mio is that young lady you were just conversing 
 with, Captain Davis ?" I asked. 
 
 "IMi's. Lionel Hervey." 
 
 I had thought as much, and the suspicion would have 
 been sufficiently confirmed by the dignified yet very 
 conscious air with which her mother-in-law received her. 
 She did not linger long in that vicinity; just as I was 
 pondering how to begin the subject of Lecompton's 
 letter, Mrs Hervey came back, and Davis had gone off 
 with her. 
 
 " How are you charmed ?" asked Sophia, in a low tone. 
 
 "With Mrs. Lionel Hervey? I admire her appear- 
 ance much." 
 
 " I supj)posed you would. Her appearance is prepos- 
 sessing , I wonder what Mr. Laud was thinking of, to 
 ask Colonel Berkley. I should think his meeting with 
 her would be veiy unpleasant." 
 
 " He may not come." 
 
 " Hush !" 
 
 A crowd of officers were just passing through the haU 
 door. At Sophia's warning intimation, as to who was 
 among them, my pulse thrilled with a new agitation. 
 How was I to behave ? what should I do ? In order to 
 gain time I looked persistently over the piano music, 
 and seriously contemplated a withdrawal fi'om the room. 
 In the mean time, the latest arrived deputation had 
 moved across the floor to Mr. Laud, and I distinctly 
 heard that gentleman say: 
 
WHITE CHIMNEYS 263 
 
 Colonel Berkley, I am very happy to see you, sir. 
 Colonel Hunter, you do us honor — glad to see you all, 
 gentlemen, and to exchange mutual congratulations on 
 the late successful defence of our flag. My heart has 
 been with you." 
 
 " His heart seems to be with them still, judging from 
 his manner of shaking hands," said Sophia in a low tone 
 to me. " All in new coats, or somebody has been rub- 
 bing up the trimmings — very resplendent. Why do you 
 not look ? Alexander has his shoulder turned." 
 
 Being quite decided by this time, I looked around 
 leisurely. The officers, having finished their greetings, 
 passed on. Berkley retained his place beside Mr. Laud 
 and Mrs. Trueman. Some compliment was paid by the 
 colonel to the loyalty of his host, and looking up at the 
 Confederate flag, Berkley raised his hand to his forehead 
 and gave it a slight upward motion, as though conveying 
 his salutation to the colors. 
 
 " That's graceful ! " pronounced Sophia. 
 
 " I have seen it better done in a circus," I answered ; 
 " it's precisely the flourish a circus-rider makes when he 
 has accompHshed some feat that he regards as peculiarly 
 striking." 
 
 Jnst then Captain Davis came in from the adjoining 
 room with Mrs. Hervey, and they walked on quite near 
 the spot where I was standing. Mrs. Trueman looked up; 
 a slight bow was exchanged with her sisfcer-in-law. Berk- 
 ley turned his head, and he and Mrs. Lionel Hervey saw 
 each other at the same instant. 
 
 Berkley stood like one transfixed ; but his color had 
 not varied a shade, while in spite of herself, Mrs. Her- 
 vey's face was crimsoned with a flush that forsook it the 
 next instant as tumultuously. She seemed to hesitate, 
 while his calm, expectant look was fastened on her fea- 
 tures ; then she bent her head coldly. Berkley replied 
 by a deferential bow, and turned once more away. 
 
264 RENSHAWE. 
 
 By the time Mrs. Hervey and Davis had come up, I saw 
 that her agitation at sight of her former lover had not 
 entii'ely subsided. I was thinking again of the Lecomp- 
 ton letter, and when Mrs. Hervey had seated herself by 
 Soi)hia, I remarked to Captain Davis that the evening 
 was vei-y warm, and that, no doubt, it was much cooler 
 in the shrubbery, where several of the guests were al- 
 ready promenading. Davis immediately gave me his arm 
 to the shrubbery, and we were soon strolling up and 
 down the beaten path outside, and imder very favorable 
 circumstances for conversation, those that passed us on 
 the grounds catching only a few disconnected words. I 
 began, as usual, in a very roundabout way, catechised 
 Captain Davis about camp-life, and about the customs of 
 Louisiana, and about the laws of civihzed warfare. All 
 these topics being thoroughly discussed, I went from civi- 
 lized to uncivihzed warfare, and from uncivilized warfare 
 to 'Mr. Lecompton. Just as I reached that point, every- 
 body was called in to supper. 
 
 Having progressed so far, I thought it would be too 
 bad to give wp at that point ; consequently, I intimated 
 to my companion that an important subject was at hand, 
 which I was soiTy to have interrupted. Mr. Davis offered 
 to sacrifice the supper ; but being quite hungiy myself, 
 I did not see fit to entertain the proposition, and he 
 promised to discuss it fully in the coui'se of the next 
 hour. 
 
 Duiing supper I managed to be next 'Mrs. Lionel Her- 
 vey, and we held a conversation of which I do not remem- 
 ber a word, and of which she probably absorbed quite as 
 Uttle, as her looks were rather disturbed. Just as nearly 
 everybody was strolling back to the parlors and grounds, 
 and I was thinking of Captain Davis again, !Mrs. Hervey, 
 who stood close by me at the door, asked if I knew Colo- 
 nel Berkley. 
 
WHITE CHIMNEYS. 
 
 265 
 
 " Yes, that is to say no," I answered a little hastily, 
 but taking care to make my negative very emphatic. The 
 next instant I saw Berkley close at hand. He had 
 stopped, but, I perceived, not to speak to me; it was to 
 Mrs. Hervey. 
 
 " It is a very long time since I have had the pleasure 
 of meeting you," said she, lifting her great, grave eyes to 
 his face. 
 
 " So long, that I hardly expected to be recognized by 
 
 you," said Berkley. 
 
 " Oh, certainly," replied Mrs. Hervey. She was a little 
 nervous but strove hard to command herself. " I should 
 recognize you always, I am sui'e. I am not the author of 
 the opinion that you are not very easily forgotten, Colo- 
 nel Berkley." 
 
 Preferring to take this statement in its most compli- 
 mentary sense, Berkley bowed gravely, and remarked 
 that he had heard of Mrs. Hervey several times during 
 the last few months ; indeed, he believed he had several 
 times been on the point of meeting her again, but had 
 never had that happiness till to-night. The conversation 
 appeared to be nearly exhausted on Mi's. Hervey's part ; 
 for she sighed without reply, and Berkley was already 
 looking away, when Captain Whipplestaff rushed up 
 tumultuously. 
 
 " There are two pwaces unfilled in the saloon. Col- 
 onel ; they've sent me to beg you to dance— youah not 
 engaged for aftah suppah— won't you dance with Mrs. 
 Hervey?" 
 
 Both Mrs. Hervey and Berkley looked at Captain 
 Whipplestaff as though at a loss what to do. Extrication 
 from the dilemma was easy enough, had Mrs. Hervey 
 chosen it ; but when Berkley's arm was offered, she took 
 it after a faltering attempt at an excuse, and they walked 
 away. As I had been talking to my right-hand neighbor 
 12 
 
266 RENSHAWE. 
 
 with my back turned on the scene as soon as Berkley 
 drew near, he had not seen me so far face to face, and 
 I was just thinking again of Lecompton, when Colonel 
 Hunter rushed up. 
 
 "Who is disengaged? Oh, Miss Renshawe — one last 
 place — I must have a partner — will you do me the favor?" 
 
 I began to say that Mr. Davis 
 
 "Davis, he's dancing — come, they are all waiting for 
 us. 
 
 I immediately consented, and we walked into the third 
 room, were the last set was formed, and took our places. 
 It so happened that we were vis a vis to Mrs. Hervey and 
 Berkley. I felt that that gentleman's eyes were upon me, 
 expecting a recognition ; but I was resolute — it did not 
 come. Throughout that dance I was quite exultant, and 
 walked thi'ough its mazes, ignoring the fact that ^Ixs. Her- 
 vey had a partner, as far as possible. I moved through 
 all the figures without touching Ids hand, which he did 
 not offer very often, when my line of conduct became 
 obvious. I remembered, in the Childi'en of the Abbey, 
 similar conduct on the part of Lord Mortimer toward the 
 heroine had been pronounced at oui* reading cii'cle, at 
 Renshawe, a gi-eat piece of rudeness; but, considering all 
 the cu'cumstances, I held myself more than justified on 
 the present occasion. 
 
 " I don't see how in the world Berkley manages not to 
 step on ]\Ii's. Hervey's dress," said Colonel Hunter to me 
 in the progress of the dance ; " upon my soul, it's a pen- 
 ance to dance with such preposterously long-skirted wo- 
 ^men. I never dance the second time with a woman who 
 wears a trail — ^by Jove ! her skirt measures a full yard on 
 the floor. She nearly upset all four of you ladies iq the 
 whirlwind figure just now !" 
 
 Colonel Hunter's indignation against the trait increased 
 all thi'ough the dance. "Almost thrown by it!" he an- 
 
WHITE CHIMNEYS. 267 
 
 nounced ; "by Jove! what under the heavens does a 
 woman expect to gain by setting a trap for a man's heels? 
 I get caught sometimes — see ladies sitting down and ask 
 them to dance, and then have to be put on my dexterity 
 all through the performance ; and if you do happen to 
 step on them — my conscience, what thundering black 
 looks they do punish you with !'' 
 
 I was relieved when the dance came to a close ; of 
 course I joined the group to which Davis belonged imme- 
 diately. Captain Walby, who had been strutting about 
 with his most superciHous air, had only waited for my 
 presence, to make another humiliating reflection. 
 
 " This is not one of your Chardavoyne and Timberlake 
 hashes," he said. " There really appear to be people here." 
 
 " The Chardavoynes and Timberlakes are people," re- 
 phed Sophia. 
 
 " They do very well for White Chimneys, but this is a 
 place of more consideration. A man who entertains here 
 is not driven to invite all sorts of cattle. He has real 
 aristocracy at his command. Miss Renshawe, will you 
 dance with me ?" 
 
 I was quite amazed at the invitation, but decHned 
 dancing during that set, and when I took the vacated 
 seat by the window, Davis joined me. I had decided 
 that the parlor was the best place for the conversation I 
 desired to hold, as the noise was quite sufficient to drown 
 our voices. I reminded Davis that we had been talking 
 about Mr. Lecompton, and I asked shortly whether he 
 could tell me an}H:hing of the reason that had prompted 
 that gentleman's prediction, by which he (Davis) had 
 fastened the ownership of the lost pocket-book on me. 
 
 Mr. Davis was in a very communicative temper, a dis- 
 position with which he contended at first, as he could 
 only be brought to acknowledge that he knew something 
 about it- 
 
268 RENSHAWE. 
 
 The first mention of the Black Robin unlocked his 
 tongue. That organization being, as he assured me, aU 
 broken up, and its disciples dispersed, Davis felt no hesi- 
 tation in talking about it. He told me in full the circum- 
 stances that had led him to join that society, eulogized 
 its harmless character, and enlarged on the service it had 
 done the world. To all this I listened patiently, till 
 Davis declared that he was utterly overcome to fijid that 
 a lady among his esteemed and valued acquaintances was 
 in fuU knowledge of its most indefensible schemes. 
 
 The announcement had first been made by Berkley to 
 a few counselors, among whom was Governor Chives. 
 This course of Berkley's Davis fully defended. His oath 
 obliged him to inform the Club when it was endangered. 
 Chives had chosen Lecompton to look after ]Miss Ren- 
 shawe, and to report her proceedings for the next few 
 days. 
 
 Davis had known nothing of aU these transactions until 
 one evening, when, to his utter amazement, Governor 
 Chives had decreed that Louisa Renshawe was to be put 
 out of the way. 
 
 " What do you mean by that — my Hfe ?" I asked. 
 
 " Yes, ]\Iiss Renshawe, your hfe ! nothing less. You 
 have too much good sense, I trust, to lay that up against 
 the Governor." 
 
 " Oh, certainly," I answered, " a httle thuig like that 
 can be easily pardoned. But go on. What induced the 
 Governor to alter that decision ?" 
 
 " TVell, we were all quite shocked, because we knew 
 you so well, yet no one ventiu'ed to remonstrate but 
 Berkley. He pleaded very earnestly for you, IMiss Ren- 
 shawe." 
 
 " Probably he felt some compunctions for having been 
 instrumental in leading me into such danger." 
 
 Davis smiled. " I think not, Miss Renshawe. Berkley 
 
WHITE CHIMNEYS. 269 
 
 is not given to such compunctions. I cannot account 
 for his course. I know I was very much surprised to 
 find that he did espouse your cause so earnestly. He 
 thought the sentence was rather too severe." 
 
 It was not unnatural that a transient emotion of grat- 
 itude should cross my heart at these words, but 'I steeled 
 myself against it. 
 
 "Mr. Lecompton then produced one of your letters 
 which he had intercepted that day, as it bore a Southern 
 postmark." 
 
 A cold chill ran over me. " A letter from my mother, 
 ]VIr. Davis?" 
 
 Davis owned that it was. This letter Lecompton offered 
 to the company, not that it had any connection with the 
 charges against Miss Renshawe, but rather to throw 
 light on her mind and motives. 
 
 " And was that unimportant epistle handed about very 
 extensively?" I asked. 
 
 " It was submitted to three or four of us," said Davis, 
 " and Mr. Lecompton asked Governor Chives whether 
 Miss Eenshawe's regard for one of our party might not 
 mitigate the severity of her sentence." 
 
 " Was there any speculation as to which of your party 
 it was ?" 
 
 "Oh, certainly. We were all of opinion that it was 
 Berkley. None of us knew you so very well, Miss Een- 
 shawe, and he had met you rather more frequently. He 
 did not believe it at first, but after reading the letter 
 seemed more inclined to that opinion himself, and this 
 circumstance he immediately turned to your advantage." 
 
 " How was that ?" 
 
 " He at once offered to the Governor to be responsible 
 for all your actions, and answered for you that you in- 
 tended no one there any harm. Governor Chives con- 
 sented finally to spare your life, and to acce^Dt the respon- 
 16* 
 
270 RENSHAWK 
 
 sibility, on one condition. That was, that Berkley should 
 offer you all the attention in his power, and that as your 
 heart had been given to him, which none of us doubted, 
 he should rivet that infatuation as well as he was 
 able." 
 
 My heart swelled high with indignation. " And did 
 IVIr. Berkley accejDt the condition ?" 
 
 "He did. Miss Renshawe. I assure you, your life 
 could have been guaranteed on no other terms. Mr. Le- 
 compton launched out into a flowery remonstrance. He 
 called Berkley heartless and criminal, and said that to a 
 giii like ]\Iiss Renshawe, death would be far preferable to 
 such a captivity." 
 
 " And did that make no impression on IVIr Berkley ?" 
 
 " Not the least. His mind was made up, and he hs- 
 tened quite unaffected. Told Lecompton to seal up the 
 letter, and send it to you, and promised the Governor to 
 follow his counsel, and to take care of IMiss Renshawe's 
 knowledge of the Club. One thing was certain, the Gov- 
 ernor gained an impression that IMiss Renshawe was quite 
 an uncommon girl." 
 
 " He must have seen that," I answered, bitterly, " but 
 now tell me how you identify me with the subject of ^Mi'. 
 Lecompton's prophecy." 
 
 "Instantly. You see it was just like Lecompton, with 
 his opinion of Berkley's fascinations, to warn you against 
 theii' danger." 
 
 ISIr. Lecompton seems to have been the best friend I 
 had in the honorable category." 
 
 " I can't say that I agree with you there. Berkley staid 
 in New York some time after we had^ left, until the Black 
 Robin agitation had faiiiy cooled, only to protect you 
 from danger — staid after he knew it was hazardous for 
 him to be longer at the North. Next to him, I think I 
 may claim to stand on the Hst of youi' friends : for, my 
 
WHITE CHIMNEYS. 271 
 
 dear Miss Rensliawe, unable as I was to serve you there, 
 perliaps I may be of more effectual aid to you here." 
 
 I held my fan so as to shield my face from the lights, 
 but Davis saw the tears that fell silently from my eyes. . 
 
 " Can I do nothing for you ?" he asked. 
 
 " Would you advise me to leave the South ?" I inquired. 
 
 " I certainly do so advise you." 
 
 " How does ]\Ir. Berkley propose to avenge my disre- 
 gard of his injunctions ? . He told me to go, and you see 
 I am here yet." 
 
 "Berkley has made up his mind to let you severely 
 alone?" 
 
 "Has he said so?" 
 
 " No, he has not mentioned your name; but I see that 
 such is his intention." 
 
 " Then I am quite ready to go; but I fear I shall find it 
 a matter of no little difficulty." 
 
 " In the present state of the country you will. But I 
 will aid you by every means in my power, if you will 
 allow me." 
 
 I thanked Davis warmly for the promise, and he en- 
 gaged to furnish me with a pass in a day or two, and to 
 find some one crossing the hues, who would escort me 
 safely home. 
 
 Our conversation ended soon, as it had been deferred 
 till so late in the evening, and the party was just break- 
 ing up. 
 
 Sophia Hervey was talking busily to Berkley at the 
 door. Their tete-a-tete had lasted some time. I evaded 
 them by that entrance, and made my way to the upper 
 hall, where the crowd was not so great, and the danger 
 of fainting less imminent. Adieux were interchanged 
 with the ladies, above and below. Several officers were 
 in the lobby. 
 
 The gentlemen had gathered around the picture of 
 
272 KENSHAWE. 
 
 which I have spoken. "How beautiful!" "Divine!" 
 were the expressions which greeted my ears. Colonel 
 Berkley, having done talking to Sophia, stopped at the 
 group, and glanced at the picture. 
 
 " Isn't it beautiful?" said Captain "Walby 
 
 " Very inferior to the original," answered the colonel. 
 SoiDhia, who leaned on the balustrade, gi-eeted this state- 
 ment with a significant " humph," as the speaker passed 
 on. 
 
 "It must have been an unpleasant meeting for them," 
 I remarked. " Were they not much attached formerly?" 
 
 " No," she replied. " It was a match of interest alto- 
 gether, on his side, if not on hers. The woman is rich as 
 a Jew." 
 
 I stood there fiUed with deep, intense humiliation. I 
 was not only angry now, but wounded to the soul. Le- 
 compton, a raving, fantastic enthusiast, had read me 
 more rightly than the man in whom I had found so much 
 imaginary nobility. For so many months aU these con- 
 federate plotters had known my absurd infatuation, and 
 Berkley had been base enough to cherish it instead of 
 giving me up to a fate that would have been preferable to 
 such captivity. Crushed and sad beyond expression, I 
 longed to flee at that moment from the face of the whole 
 world forever. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVn. 
 
 OPHIA touched me on the arm as the last hangers- 
 on were dispersing, and drew me inside the libra- 
 ry door. 
 
 " Louisa, will you see Colonel Berkley a minute ?" 
 " Impossible. Has he been talking to you about me ?" 
 
WHITE CHIMNEYS. 273 
 
 "About the other night altogether. He has been apol- 
 ogizing again to me, and would apologize to you if you 
 would consent." 
 
 "I don't see what apology he can make, Sophia?" 
 
 " Well, he insists upon it he was di-unk." 
 
 "Nonsense !" 
 
 "I know it sounds nonsensical; but that's what he 
 says, and I have reaUy been obHged to promise I would 
 prevail upon you to see him." 
 
 " You cannot, Sophia. No excuse he can offer will in- 
 fluence me." 
 
 " Perhaps it is just as well you should not be tempted. 
 Berkley says he never knew a woman that could remain 
 offended with him longer than he could gain speech with 
 her." 
 
 "I will see him." 
 
 "You icill ? Do I understand you rightly ?" 
 
 "I will, unless he has gone." 
 
 " No, he has not gone, although I did assure him I had 
 no idea of gaining your consent. I'll teU him." And 
 Sophia hurried away. 
 
 I repented my rashness almost immediately, but noth- 
 ing could be done now to mend it. I opened every win- 
 dow in the library to admit the night air, sank into an 
 arm-chair by the table, trembhng and feverish, buried 
 my face in my hands, and struggled to nerve myself to 
 strength, though bitterly regTetting that I had under- 
 taken what I might not carry out. It was too late. Berk- 
 ley had come. I glanced up as he entered, and detected 
 the vestige of a smile on his face as he turned to close 
 the door. My assent to the interview had reached him 
 just as he was quitting the house, for he was fairly cloaked 
 and took off his gloves as he entered. 
 
 That smile stung me into courage. I adopted an in- 
 stant determination to cling to the one idea of resistance 
 
274 RENSHAWK 
 
 throughout an interview to which I had so rashly con- 
 sented. As I kept my eyes steadily averted, after the first 
 glance I could judge nothing by Berkley's air, and was not 
 a little surprised at the unsteadiness of his voice when he 
 addressed me. No time was lost; he began, as soon as he 
 crossed the threshold, to enlarge on his ovei'powering sense 
 of his iniquities, and on his sufferings under my dis- 
 pleasure, to which it would be impossible to do full jus- 
 tice. It had been the first time in his hfe that he had 
 been guilty of such rude and ungentlemanly conduct, 
 would swear with all solemnity it should be the last, pro- 
 fessed all penitence, and demanded pardon. He could 
 only plead, in defence, that his companions, on the even- 
 ing to which he alluded, were carried away by an. 
 ungovernable excitement, which had unfortunately ex- 
 tended itself to him. 
 
 I did not reply instantly. I was repelled by his man- 
 ner, and disgusted. The words were uttered with 
 gi'owing confidence, with arrogance, with positive inso- 
 lence. It was clear that he was prompted by a sense 
 of duty, toward a person whom he had injured ; still 
 disHking that person beyond measure, and only anxious 
 for absolution from a memory of which he had the grace 
 to be ashamed. All my nervousness and agitation was 
 gone. I lifted my head, and measured him with my 
 eyes from head to foot. 
 
 "It is a poor defence," I said; "and poor as it is, it 
 cannot serve you, because it is invahd. The ungovern- 
 able excitement to which you allude, if you choose to 
 dignify a drunken frolic by that term did not extend 
 itself to you. Your acts were willful and deliberate." 
 
 " You are severe; — you are jitst," he added after a mo- 
 ment. "I stand convicted of a subterfuge, in addition to 
 my other enormities. I beg yoti will pronounce pardon 
 before the catalogue grows any longer." 
 
WHITE CHIMNEYS. 275 
 
 " You are quite ignorant," I replied, " what length the 
 catalogue has attained ah'eady; there are offences for 
 which I know you have not the least intention to atone." 
 
 " If I don't know, why will you not tell me ?" 
 
 " I will. I allude to words you spoke against our com- 
 mon country." 
 
 Berkley's Up curled. " Oh, I can't apologize to the 
 whole country to-night, Miss Kenshawe. Let that slide. 
 We can be friends, whether we belong to a common or a 
 separate kingdom." 
 
 "We can not be fi'iends," said I. "We could not 
 have been fi'iends, had you never offended me, Colonel 
 Berkley. I could never have given you friendship, 
 because," — and the words came out a Kttle tremulously, 
 but full and emphatic — " you once imagined I had given 
 you more." 
 
 " T\Tiatever your sentiments may have been formerly,'* 
 said Berkley, '^ I need no proof now that they have un- 
 dergone alteration. 
 
 " Have you the unpardonable arrogance to pronounce 
 on my sentiments?" 
 
 Berkley raised his dark eyes to mine : " Will you deny 
 them ?" 
 
 We stood there face to face; that question asked me 
 direct ; was ever known such insolence ? 
 
 " Sir," and I measured my words, that they might not 
 contain the denial which would neither serve pie nor 
 mislead him, "I have never entertained a favorable 
 sentiment toward you, of which I am not heartily 
 ashamed." 
 
 These words had a visible effect. 
 
 " You do not know," I proceeded, " how low you have 
 fallen. You think one word from you should cover any 
 offence committed against any one hving. In that res- 
 pect you are greatly mistaken." 
 
276 RENSHAWE. 
 
 " But I can give nothing but a word, Miss Eenshawe. 
 There's no possible way of restitution. I have told all 
 the gentlemen that I intended to apologize to you, and for 
 that matter, all the ladies. I am ready to own any- 
 thing, confess anything, promise anything. I know I 
 have behaved like a ruffian ; like a devil ; like a — a 
 coward. Can't you forgive me now?" 
 
 I rose. It was time to close the interview. 
 
 " If I said yes, you would know I did not say it from 
 my heart." 
 
 "If you have not intended to say yes, why did you 
 allow me to see you?" 
 
 " That you might see how far I am from being angry. 
 I think you need a lesson. Colonel Berkley. I regret 
 that, given by me, it will possess so httle bitterness. I 
 consented to see you, that you might not be prevented 
 from laying that lesson to heart, under the impression 
 that I refuse all fui'ther acquaintance with you, in a 
 passion. You see, I act dehberately." 
 
 "If we pai-t unreconciled to-night, ]Miss Eenshawe, 
 we may regi-et it." 
 
 "I shall not," I answered. ''I know you can avenge 
 my hostilities. I am thrown among my enemies, 
 and I am at you mercy, but you may do your 
 worst." 
 
 " I have deserved that you should misjudge me," said 
 he. " But have I fallen so low in you eyes, as thatT' Be- 
 fore you finally refuse me pardon. Miss Eenshawe, I have 
 one question to ask you regarding your conduct : is it 
 Chiistian?" 
 
 This argument I feared he would use, as it was- the 
 one, of all others, which left me without any vahd reply. 
 I was again gi-owing tremulous, but clung desperately to 
 my resolution. 
 
 "I do not refuse because of the enormity of the 
 
WHITE CHIMNEYS. 277 
 
 offence. I beg you will desist from this useless dispute. 
 I trust you are satisfied that I am less weak, that I am, 
 if you please, more vindictive than you thought me. 
 Colonel Berkley, you and I are strangers hencefor- 
 ward." 
 
 On looking up, I was struck to perceive that my 
 auditor had become deadly pale ; but it was the pallor 
 that I had seen on his face near the close of a hard con- 
 tested game of chess ; quite sure, however, that his 
 moves were done, it did not trouble me. I gathered up 
 from the centre-table my fan and my gloves, and turned 
 to leave the room. Before I had moved a step, Berkley 
 came up, and taking my hands knelt by my side, exclaim- 
 ing with a look and tone that metamorphosed him com- 
 pletely : " Miss Eenshawe, for God's sake say you 
 forgive me." 
 
 For one moment I was staggered — only into silence ; 
 not consent. The door opened and Mrs. Lionel Hervey 
 stood on the threshold. 
 
 " Madam," said I, as she turned away with a grave 
 astonished face, " will you send Miss Hervey to me, if 
 you please ?" 
 
 She bowed and withdrew. Berkley, who had neither 
 looked up nor moved, rang the changes on his under- 
 toned appeal in vain. My message to Sophia had roused 
 another sentiment. " It is unnecessary," he said ; " I will 
 trouble you no more ; only for the last time, will you 
 forgive me ?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 Berkley rose instantly. He turned and took his hat 
 fi'om the table. I saw his face was all glowing with 
 anger. Ah, he was a demon foiled ! 
 
 " We are strangers," I murmured. 
 
 " Enemies," he said in a voice i^lf stifled with passion. 
 
 " Strangers," I repeated. This correction passed un- 
 
278 RENSHAWE. 
 
 noticed. He had gone in a hurry, but he had really 
 gone, and I had — triumphed. 
 
 Sophia was the first person I met on my way below. 
 
 " You look gay and defiant ; what have you done ?" 
 
 I told her that there had been a skirmish of souls, and 
 I had conquered. I begged for her congratulations. 
 Sophia shook her head. 
 
 ""\Miat, you blame me ? Did you not tell me that he 
 boasted of the irresistible effect of his fascinations ?" 
 
 " But his boasts did not affect the merits of the case, 
 Louisa. I'm afraid you were wrong." 
 
 Wrong! when I had corrected his mistakes, rebuked 
 his disloyalty, and finally silenced his seK confidence ? 
 My own pride was gratified, my own mortification 
 avenged. 
 
 After all, was there no better lesson that I might have 
 taught ? I spui-ned the suggestion. I had gained 
 nothing — I had lost much. I would not acknowledge it. 
 My heart was strangely hardened toward all the world. 
 
 CHAPTER XXYin. 
 
 ' ATI! RD AY morning a summons from bel ow brought 
 me down at an early hour. Sophia's face was 
 luminous. 
 " Any news ?" I inquired. 
 
 "News from Washington; yes. My uncle has just 
 told us Laud and Cassy were married on Wednesday 
 morning last." 
 
 Congratulations as heartfelt as though they had been 
 interchanged on the floor of reception-rooms filled with 
 wedding guests, passed between the members of my 
 brother-in-law's family and myself; but the reflection 
 
WHITE CHIMNEYS. 279 
 
 which lent solemnity to those congratulations, was that 
 some painful consideration, connected with Captain 
 Hervey's safety, had led to such a hasty wedding. Mrs. 
 Lionel Hervey, quit« subdued among the host of her 
 relatives, had expressed her rejoicings in a soft, musical 
 tone, and with a most enchanting smile, after which she 
 flitted up the staircase, requesting me to join her as 
 speedily as I could. 
 
 In the course of that morning I availed myself of the 
 invitation. Mrs. Hervey's room was a large apartment, 
 on the second story, overlooking the street, which was 
 visible just beyond the lawn. A yoimg negress, of lMi\ 
 Laud's household, was arranging baskets of flowers and 
 green boughs on the shelves, and Mrs. Hervey herself sat 
 by the open window, apparently less engaged with the 
 work on her lap, than with what was going on without. 
 
 The subject of the hot day was done ample justice to. 
 Mrs. Hervey told me that she had been down stairs to 
 get cool, and couldn't ; up stairs to get cool and didn't ; 
 down to the basement for ice, and there wasn't any. In 
 the first place she had sent Venus for ice, but she didn't 
 bring it. 
 
 Venus giggled, and informed missus dat dar wasn't 
 none. 
 
 " Well, now that I've sent for it to the village," said 
 Mrs. Hervey, " I want you to be on hand and see that it 
 comes ; and don't stand talking to the ice-man an hour 
 at the gate, as you did yesterday, till the ice all melted. 
 I never saw anybody like you, Venus, for talking at 
 gates." 
 
 Venus looked quite delighted. " IVIissus, you do beat 
 all," she said. " Neber goes to de gate ; must be it wus 
 Tilly. Sorry missus hed to go down fur de ice. Sort 
 she'd knowed when I didn't come up sta'rs dat dar wan't 
 none." 
 
280 RENSHAWE. 
 
 " Well, go down now, and bring me the ice as soon as 
 it comes." 
 
 Venus lagged off. !Mrs. Hervey called after her to tell 
 Major Hervey, if he came, that she wished to see 
 him. 
 
 " I don't suppose I shall see him any sooner for that," 
 she remarked to me. " I had a great quarrel with him 
 yesterday." 
 
 " "With your husband, ^Ii's. Heiwey ?" 
 
 " Yes ; nothing unusual. He is so stubborn, sometimes, 
 anybody would quarrel with him. We made it up before 
 he went away ; that is, I went down in the hot sim, all 
 the way to the village, to see him, and he told me I was 
 very silly to come dovni, for he was not angry. Most un- 
 satisfactory person — nobody can ever tell whether he is 
 angry or not." 
 
 The subject of the conversation was just then seen 
 coming into the house, and after a considerable time, 
 during which ]Mrs. Hervey wondered not a little at his 
 non-appearance, he ran up the stair-case and entered the 
 room. Major Hervey looked exceedingly amiable ; his 
 aspect was, in every respect, thoroughly praiseworthy ; 
 his conduct ditto. After shaking hands with me, and 
 expressing his happiness at the event which had con- 
 nected our famihes, he took a meerschaum pipe fi'om his 
 pocket, filled it with tobacco, and sat down opposite us 
 to smoke. 
 
 •'Don't bring your villainous pipes here, Lionel," ob- 
 jected Mrs. Heiwey. 
 
 " ;Miss Eenshawe likes pipes," replied Major Hervey ; 
 " she told me so the other evening, when we were trav- 
 ersing the beach at Honey Island, by moonlight." 
 
 " That's the way you do, eh?" remarked ^Irs. Hervey. 
 " ^Mien I am away it's beaches, and moonhght, and young 
 ladies. Well, if jMiss Renshawe Hkes pipes, I don't. 
 
WHITE CHIMNEYS. 281 
 
 Please put that out, Hervey, and I'll liunt the house 
 through for cigars for you." 
 
 Major Hervey extinguished the pipe, and took several 
 cigars from the closet. 
 
 "I can remember the time," he remarked, "when 
 you did not object so much to a pipe as you do now." 
 
 " Very likely ; but it was not your pi^De," said Mrs. 
 Hervey, dryly. 
 
 " No, it was not my pipe," said Major Hervey ; " I did 
 not intimate that it was." 
 
 "How long will you be here this morning?" inquired 
 his wife. 
 
 " Only till I finish these cigars. The Washington 
 papers will be in this morning." 
 
 " Send them round to us if there are any details of the 
 wedding, or remarks about the bridal dresses, though 
 probably there will not be. It must have been a very 
 quiet wedding, of course." 
 
 " I don't know what you mean by quiet ; probably no 
 drums." 
 
 "Drums !" repeated Mrs.- Hervey. 
 
 " I can tell you all about it," said Major Hervey, " as 
 well as the papers. The bride wore a veil, and the 
 bridegTOom epaulets ; all the elite of Washington were 
 present, of course. United States officers, numerous 
 and distinguished, five or six bridesmaids, and all the 
 aunts, uncles, and cousins, on both sides, except those 
 that were in the Confederate army, and those that couldn't 
 come. There it is all in a nutshell." 
 
 "What did the notice say, Lionel?" asked Mrs. 
 Hervey. 
 
 "How desperate you are for particulars! The notice 
 said they were married on Wednesday, July 17th. Cap- 
 tain Laud Hervey, U. S. A., and Cassandra, second daughter 
 of the late Robert Renshawe, of New York." 
 
282 RENSHAWE. 
 
 " Why didn't you bring us the paper ?" 
 
 " I did not have it ; otherwise I should have brought 
 it, that you might cut the notice out and paste it in your 
 scrap-book. I have another item of news for you, not 
 culled fi'om the newspapers, though I presume it has 
 figured among them." 
 
 " A wedding ?" 
 
 " Yes ; another wedding — not very recent, some months 
 ago." 
 
 " Who do you mean ?" 
 
 "Mi's. Hunter." 
 
 "Hinda?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 •' She found one fool," remarked Mrs. Hervey ; " I 
 didn't suppose she could find another. Who was it on 
 this occasion?" 
 
 " I will let you guess." 
 
 " I cannot think of any one but Ramsay Jones." 
 
 " He would not marry her," I exclaimed, " for he does 
 not Like her." 
 
 "Then he has been inconsistent," said Major Hervey. 
 
 " It is Jones, then, Lionel ?" 
 
 " Yes ; Jones." 
 
 Mrs. Hervey resorted to her needle, which she pHed 
 for a few minutes in silence, while Major Hervey dis- 
 cussed with me the facilities for my retui'n to Washing- 
 ton, which I was anxious to effect. It was arranged that 
 I could easily proceed on the following Monday, and a 
 few lucid dii'ections were given. Major Hervey remarked 
 that Colonel Berkley could afford me the most valuable 
 assistance. I declined Colonel Berkley's aid on the spot, 
 and Major Hervey consequently promised me aU in his 
 power. 
 
 "I wonder who will be married next?" said Mrs. 
 Hervey. 
 
WHITE CHIMNEYS. 283 
 
 "Aren't two weddings sufficient?'* asked the major. 
 " I can't say, my dear, who will next have his head in the 
 noose. We have enough to do just now without think- 
 ing of matrimony. Perhaps it will be Berkley next. 
 He intends to invite us to his wedding when it does take 
 place." 
 
 "I'd rather go to his funeral," replied Mrs. Hervey. 
 
 Her husband laughed. 
 
 "A delightful frame of mind you are in, my dear," 
 said he ; " Miss Eenshawe must be regaled by such 
 society. My cigar is nearly done, and I must be off for 
 the camp. Any message to send to General Beauregard ?'* 
 
 " Tell him to put Colonel Berkley in front, if there is a 
 a battle. Eeally, his funeral would be such a variety." 
 
 Hervey shook his head. 
 
 " Then you would not Hke a variety ? " 
 
 "I would not have that variety," said he. "The 
 funeral may be the rule by and by, not the exception." 
 
 " Oh, Hervey, you have been keeping up that mournful 
 prophecy so long ! " 
 
 "I, Mary? I am sure I have said nothing of the sort." 
 
 " I suppose you forget ; but you are all the time saying 
 what a bloody war it will be, and all that ; and I am sure 
 so far it has been only play, and will be over in three 
 months. If you \ton't have Colonel Berkley shot we will 
 have your funeral; I'm determined on some variety. I'll 
 write to your general, and tell him to put you in front." 
 
 " It is often more dangerous in the rear," said Major 
 Hervey. " You see, my dear, I don't admit any sugges- 
 tion that may conduce to your entertainment." 
 
 Mrs. Hervey took her writing desk on her lap : 
 
 " You see, Lionel, General Beauregard does not know 
 me ; but if you tell him that my beauty is in inverse ratio 
 to your ughness, his gallantry wiU leave him no choice. 
 My dear General Beauregard : by sending Major Hervey 
 
284 KENSHAWE. 
 
 with all the signals and white flags in front, during the 
 next battle, or, if there are better cannons in the rear, by 
 sending him back — in short, by kiUing him off as speedily 
 as possible — ^you will lay under everlasting obhgations, 
 yours, etc." 
 
 "White flags?" repeated Major Hervey, "and cannons 
 in the rear ? what do you mean ? " 
 
 By the way, I must have a postscript — what's Colonel 
 Berkley's regiment, Lionel?" 
 
 « The th North CaroHna." 
 
 "Postscript. — General Beauregard wiU more particu- 
 larly obHge !Mrs. Hervey, by placing the th regiment 
 
 of North CaroHna, and its colonel, in some very safe 
 place. That request is couched in more formal terms for 
 obvious reasons. Here, Lionel, be careful of it." 
 
 Major Hervey took the note that she held out to him, 
 glanced at the gi-aceful hand-writing, then gave the paper 
 a twist and threw it on the table. 
 
 "TMiat! you won't take it? how silly!'* 
 • "Do you think it siUy?" 
 
 "Yes, you are always silly about my jests ! " 
 
 " There is a sort of infection about your jests, my dear," 
 said Hervey, "something magnetic." 
 
 " Very severe you are ; but I am not to be daunted — 
 you have not said yet what style of coffin you approve." 
 
 Major Hervey made no reply. He took the note from 
 the table, folded it, and put it in an envelope. INlrs. Her- 
 vey offered her pen ; but he placed the note in his pocket 
 undirected. 
 
 " Suppose you should forget whom it is for," said ^Mrs. 
 Heiwey. 
 
 " I will not forget." 
 
 " "^liy, Lionel, ai'e you going ? you have not half con- 
 sumed that cigar. Well, I hope when you come to mor- 
 row, you won't be severe." 
 
WHITE CHIMNEYS. 285 
 
 Major Hervey bowed a good morning to me, kissed his 
 wife, took his cap from the table, and moved to the door; 
 he came back and kissed her again, walked into the hall, 
 and went half-way down the stairs, then came back and 
 repeated the caress a third time. 
 
 "What's the reason of all this parade?" she asked; 
 " do you intend to desert to the North this afternoon ?" 
 
 "I want you to remember," said he, "that you need 
 never recall a word you have said to me this morning in 
 sorrow. Do you understand me ?" 
 
 " No, I don't understand ; but I will try to obey. 
 Good-bye." 
 
 "Good-bye." He left the room, and shortly after I 
 saw his figure on the walk. At the gate he stopped and 
 retained his station till his cigar was finished, with his 
 face turned toward the casement, at which Mrs. Her- 
 vey was visible. She waved a handkerchief from the 
 window ; but there was no response. Neither, hand, nor 
 hat, nor tassel moved, and at last, turning away from his 
 silent scrutiny. Major Hervey struck into the highway, 
 and was soon out of sight. 
 
 "I cannot imagine what the matter is," remarked 
 Mrs. Hervey, throwing the handkerchief she had been 
 waving on the table. "I must ask him, when he comes 
 to-morrow. I am afraid I made him angry with my non- 
 sense. Don't you think he was angry? I am always sorry 
 when it is too late, and never think at the time." 
 
 Venus clattered up stairs with the ice, a huge straw 
 hat surmounting her black physiognomy, with a brim so 
 enormous that it brushed the door on either side in pass- 
 ing. 
 
 " Dear me, Venus — where did you get that hat ? " 
 "Changed hats wid de ice-man, missus." 
 "Ah, did you meet Major Hervey?" 
 " Yes, missus, an' met Gunnel Hunter." 
 
286 RENSHAWE. 
 
 " What did he say to you ? " 
 
 " Don't like to tell," said Yenus, simperingly. 
 
 " Nonsense — you must tell — what did he say ? " 
 
 " Said if I trabbeled so fast all de oder niggers would 
 git married fust, for de beaux couldn't ketch up. Law ! 
 missus, he grabbed a hull handful ob de ice — got scratches 
 and cuts all ober his hands and face." 
 
 "What! Major Heryey?" 
 
 "Oh, no missus — tort you meant Gunnel Hunter. 
 Mas'r Lionel nebber said nuffin, 'cept ' Yenus, you ort to 
 hev a bigger hat.' " 
 
 "He said nothing else?" 
 
 " Nuffin, missus." 
 
 "That will do, — you may go." 
 
 The rest of the day was lounged away in a quiet, dreamy 
 state, as happily as a day could pass under such circum- 
 stances. Thoughts of Gassy and her husband, of my 
 mother and sister, far away in a city filled with our coun- 
 try's implacable foes, my brother in the field, our vacant 
 home, oui' scattered family — these might have been suffi- 
 cient to depress a spirit far stronger than mine. It 
 seemed a day given up to recollection. I could neither 
 wiite, nor di'aw, nor sew. I could do nothing but gaze 
 at the floating clouds, at the waving trees, Hsten to the 
 song of the birds, and the happy laughter of the negroes 
 below stau'S, and resign myself to the memory of the last 
 few months. As the sun went down, I watched it from 
 the bench beneath the oak tree just before the door. It 
 sank behind the brown hills of the west, in a haze of 
 glory, through which the round red ball rose and fell 
 until all was gone except the bright reflection on the sky. 
 Recollections crowded thick and fast — I thought of the 
 happy Tillage and sea-washed coast at Renshawe, the 
 whirl and bustle and excitement among the great mass 
 of humanity at New York, the hill and wood-land, and 
 
WHITE CHIMNEYS. 287 
 
 grand solitude at Blue Hills, the military camps and 
 pleasant groves of White Chinmeys. Forms and faces 
 and scenes came vividly before my mental vision — my 
 mother, my sister, the Ostranders, Mr. Shaker, Mrs. Jud- 
 son, Tomlin — all — all past. 
 
 Night came down before I knew it. A call from the 
 piazza was unheeded — a hand laid on my shoulder 
 roused me to myself. I looked up and saw Mrs. Hervey, 
 her face radiant with beauty and happiness. 
 
 " Come, my dear Miss Renshawe, don't sit out here any 
 longer ; tea waits in the dining-room, and my uncle has 
 sent me to call you in." 
 
 I rose, with a heart which the gay, light voice had 
 cheered, and followed my companion to the house. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 MANASSAS. 
 
 lO^IE faint streaks of Hght were visible in the east- 
 ern sky, on the morning of Sunday, July 2l8t, 
 when I was awakened by Sophia from slumbers 
 that had been Hght and insufficient. 
 
 "Is there any bad news?" I inquired, noticing the 
 troubled expression that her features wore. 
 
 " There is news that the Northern army is advancing 
 fi'om Washington. Reports are so unreliable, that we 
 hardly know what to beheve as yet ; but at aU events, we 
 fear a battle is imminent. Mr. Laud and my brother have 
 been out some time. They are in a terrible state of ex- 
 citement, and the most painful part of it is, each in a dif- 
 ferent cause. My brother is sure that the rebels will run 
 at the first sight of our flag, and Mr. Laud beheves as 
 
288 RENSHAWE 
 
 firmly the contrai-y. Tliere are only two considerations 
 that have weight with either : that there is a son and 
 nephew in Beaui'egard's army, and another, it is more 
 than probable, on the other side." 
 
 In S25ite of the forced calmness with which Sophia had 
 spoken, I saw that this consideration was one which 
 lent poignancy to her fears. 
 
 I dressed rapidly, and came below to the parlor. The 
 family was all gathered on the piazza, seated on the 
 steps and chaii's, in anxious consideration of the news. 
 The same state of affairs was visible on the opposite side 
 of the street. The steps and hotels were filled at the 
 windows and doors, secession flags floated triumphantly 
 over the scene. 
 
 Mrs. Lionel Hervey was the person who said the least, 
 and apparently thought the most, in the assembly. She 
 stood in the hall-door, her lovely face turned toward the 
 throng gathering at the corners, hstening gi'avely to all 
 the excited comments of the company, without remark, 
 and without motion. At last, calling one of the negroes 
 to her side, she charged him with a slight commission, 
 and betaking herself* to the shaded well-path, paced up 
 and down alone, with the copy of a paper in her hand, 
 which she thoughtfully consulted. 
 
 In the mean time the sun rolled on, the negroes chat- 
 tered, the dogs barked on the lawn, the graceful white 
 di'ess trailed up and down the well-path, the anxious 
 voices sounded under the \hies of the veranda. ]Mr. 
 Laud had several times crossed the street to get the 
 news, and the last report silenced whatever hope we had 
 cherished that the whole alarm was groundless. 
 
 "They are on the Warrenton turnpike — Lincoln's 
 men, I hear," said he. 
 
 " "WTiere ai'e the Confederate forces ?" asked ]\Irs. Lio- 
 nel Hervey. 
 
"WHITE CHIMNEYS. 289 
 
 " I cannot tell ; they have not moved. In the region 
 of Bull's Run, I reckon. They are all ready, no doubt." 
 Mrs. Lionel Hervey te-entered the house. Imme- 
 diately after there came a report jarring the very stones 
 on which we stood. 
 
 " Cannon ! " was oui' host's exclamation. " They have 
 met!" 
 
 Several gentlemen rode by the paling with cheers. Mr. 
 Laud caUed to them : " God speed the right ! " 
 
 "Aren't you going out to see the battle?" they de- 
 manded. " Get your horse and follow us ! " They rode on. 
 The suggestion was followed. Mr. Laud and his 
 brother-in-law took the fleetest horses in the stables, and 
 rode off toward the Junction. 
 
 It was a terrible day for the nation, and those first 
 conscious of the struggle suffered not a Httle in anticipa- 
 tion of what was in store for the rest. That steady roar, 
 undiminished, unabated, uninterrupted, rose over the 
 hills and rolled through the valleys, till it seemed to re- 
 verberate in the very clouds of the horizon. There were 
 incessant tokens from the field — men were passing 
 through the street on hasty errands, riderless horses 
 grazed along the way-side, startled away by the passers ; 
 flying rumors were incessant and distracting. Success 
 was reported, first on one side and then on the other ; 
 but while that awful roar still jarred the windows, and 
 the smoke still ascended, nothing could be decided yet. 
 No doubt, that to-morrow the wires would tell the tale of 
 our victory all over the North, and I thanked God de- 
 voutly in that anticipation. Distracted as I was, I had 
 forgotten one of our company, and it was not till the 
 afternoon that I inquii'ed \^here was Mrs. Lionel Hervey. 
 She was on the housetop, whither I hastened to join 
 her. The hot sun was beating down on the roof through 
 the waving boughs of the. surrounding trees. Mrs. Her- 
 13 
 
290 RENSHAWE. 
 
 vey knelt by the balusters of the roof, holding a telescope 
 to her eyes, which was directed steadily toward the 
 quarter of the conflict. I came up and asked if she 
 could see anything that was going on. 
 
 " Nothing distinctly," slie answered, " except a horse, 
 now and then, without a rider. You may take the glass; 
 my eyes ache with looking through it. It is now some 
 hours since I came here." 
 
 I took the telescoxDC, and, kneeling beside her, strove to 
 distinguish some figure or movement on the distant field, 
 but all swam before my eyes. I saw nothing but the 
 trees, and the dust on the distant turnpike. 
 
 " That's not the WaiTenton road," said Mrs. Hervey. 
 " that runs on the other side of Manassas. I wish this 
 battle were over. The certainty that something was de- 
 cided, would be a blessed one." 
 
 Mr. Laud and !Mr. Hervey returned about three 
 in the afternoon. They had gathered nothing beyond 
 the fact that no result of importance had yet taken 
 place. Neither party had gained any apparent advan- 
 tage. 
 
 Night came at last. The guns had been silent half an 
 hour or more, when, to the anxious crowd on the piazza, 
 'Mr. Laud rushed back from his latest sally beyond the 
 gate. 
 
 "Mary! Mary!" he shouted. "Hurrah! Dixie for- 
 ever ! We have won the day!" 
 
 A gleam of triumph shot across I\Irs. Hervey's features. 
 " God be thanked!" she ejaculated. 
 
 " My dear sir," cried Sophia, aghast, " there must be 
 some mistake. It's quite impossible that the North has 
 lost this battle." 
 
 " I know," rejoined Mr. Laud, " that you think it im- 
 possible for the North to fail in anything; nevertheless, 
 the Confederate flags are going up all over the village, and 
 
WHITE CHIMNEYS. 291 
 
 a soldier, just in from the Junction, informs me that the 
 Northern army is in full retreat for Washington. The 
 Fire Zouaves are cut in pieces." 
 
 Up to that moment not a single doubt of the issue had 
 risen in my mind. Like Soj)hia, I had thought that de- 
 feat for us was impossible. Consternation shone in the 
 faces of all the company except the two by whom the 
 result was hailed with rejoicing. 
 
 "Let me tell the servants," said Mr. Laud, little fancy- 
 ing our unsympathizing faces. " They shall have a jubilee 
 to-morrow," and he hastened from the room. 
 
 The truth of the tidings was realized at last. Mr. Her- 
 vey paced the room in anguish that was visibly portrayed 
 on his features. His wife and daughters wept bitterly. 
 A feeling too deep for tears had seized upon my heart. I 
 had looked upon the rebels with the leniency, the sympa- 
 thy, even, that may be granted safely to a vanquished foe. 
 For these successful traitors I had no sentiment but in- 
 dignation. ' 
 
 " You may abate your anxiety," said Mr. Laud, on his 
 return to the piazza. " I understand that Laud has not 
 left Washington, and as Beauregard's force was not 
 engaged, Lionel, of course, was out of danger." 
 
 There was nothing in this to reassure me. All the eve- 
 ning chance reports were carried back and forth. It 
 was late before Mr. Laud shut up the house for the night. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXX. 
 
 AFTER THE BATTLE. 
 
 
 ONE of us thought of sleep that night, beyond the 
 shght snatches of rest which wearied nature abso- 
 lutely demanded. The village was filled with pass- 
 
292 RENSHAWE. 
 
 ing squads of soldiers, and alive witli excitement all 
 night. Reports of an alarming nature agitated the house- 
 hold. Mr. Laud had ascertained that the Federal force, 
 led by General McDowell, had engaged Beauregard's 
 army; that Johnston had reinforced Beauregard ^Nith 
 twenty thousand men; but whether Johnston's corps had 
 been in the battle or not he had not discovered. 
 
 The inteUigence that partially relieved my mind 
 brought bitter uncertainty to the others. That Major Her- 
 vey had been in the battle was certain, and it was by no 
 means uncertain that Captain Hervey was not on the 
 other side. Mr. Hervey, evidently for the sake of con- 
 cealing his own anxiety, attempted to alleviate the fears 
 of the others by assurances that reports of slaughter 
 were always exaggerated; that General Scott had said it 
 requu'ed a waste of five hundi'ed pounds of lead to kill 
 one man in a battle, etc. 
 
 It was a relief when morning came at last. Qui- weary, 
 sad, and haggard party was gathered in the httle front 
 parlor of the house — the fresh breeze blowing in from 
 the street under the heaxj green vines of the piazza. 
 Hot faces and fevered temj^les were tui-ned towards the 
 casement. Outside all was cool and refi-eshmg to the 
 sight — the stones of the cui'b — the overhanging branches 
 — the grasses, wet with the dews of the night — the 
 mists dispersing in the morning sun. 
 
 The anxiety about Major Hervey was but ill-concealed, 
 even by those who strove most manfully to overcome 
 feelings for the sake of the rest. Mrs. Lionel Hervey 
 wandered through the house and about the grounds, her 
 white di'ess floating down by the gateway, and her 
 anxious face soon after in the hall, while to ever)^ one she 
 met was put the question, "Has Lionel come?" Her 
 mother-in-law took her hand at last, and drew her gently 
 by her side on the sofa, saying to her, reassuringly, that 
 
WHITE CHBINEYS. 
 
 293 
 
 Lionel would not be able to come himself, and until some 
 inteUigence readied tliem of bis safety, suspense must be 
 borne with patience. Mr. Laud and Mr. Hervey bad 
 gone again and again to the viUage to learn every passing 
 rumor, and returned unsatisfied, and at last I judged 
 from their quiet station, taken at the hall-door, that they 
 had decided to remain at home, and wait developments 
 
 there. 
 
 Among the mihtary groups passing through the street, 
 a company of officers rode iip to the gate. Mr. Laud 
 walked out on the piazza. There was the customary 
 greeting of "Dixie forever," an inquiij about Major Her- 
 vey stm unsatisfied, then I heard Mr. Laud say, " A glo- 
 rious day for us, gentlemen." 
 
 One of the officers observed, "Yes, it was a finer affair 
 than Centreville." 
 
 "Are you not coming in?" called Mr. Laud. "Come 
 in, gentlemen, and take a glass of wine with me on this 
 
 occasion " 
 
 No, su% thank you; we are only waiting for Colonel 
 Berkley," rejoined one of the officers, whom I recognized 
 as belonging to the Colonel's staff. " Is he not here ?" 
 
 " I beheve not. I will see," said Mr. Laud. He went 
 back into the drawing-rooms, where several gentlemen 
 and ladies fi'om the neighborhood were gathered. At the 
 same moment I saw an officer gaUoping up the highway; 
 a horse reined at the fence; a bridle thrown to one of 
 the officers. The rider dismounted, came over the gate 
 and up the pathway. It was Colonel Berkley; but so 
 soiled and dusty as scarcely to be recognized. As every- 
 body pressed forward to jneet him, he entered thi'ough 
 the open doors. When he saw who was there, his coun- 
 tenance grew rather dark, and by the paling cheeks of 
 those around me, I knew that his change of features car- 
 ried warning of evil to other souls than mine. 
 
29i EENSHAWE. 
 
 "IMr. Laud, may I see you a mompnt?" he said, turn- 
 ing to draw back again to the veranda. 
 
 "Stop, Colonel Berkley," said Mr. Hervey, who was vio- 
 lently trembling. "Do you know anything about my 
 son ?" 
 
 "Yes, sir; we have the returns this morning," Berkley 
 rejoined, " and I am sorry to be made the bearer of very 
 bad news." 
 
 "For God's sake, speak! Let us know the worst!" 
 cried the unhappy mother, while ^Mrs. Lionel Hervey, 
 with a look and manner of the most intense agitation, 
 came up to Berkley, and laying her hand on his arm, 
 exclaimed, " I conjure you, as you have a soul to be saved, 
 do not trifle with us — it is such an awful moment for 
 us all, remember! Where is my husband? Is he a pris- 
 oner, wounded? Can I see him? Answer me; answer 
 me !" and she shook him by the arm. " Perhaps he is at 
 the point of death !" 
 
 " Madam," said Berkley, " your husband " but the 
 
 look in that eye even he could not meet, and he turned 
 to ]\L:. Hervey. "Sir, youi' son is — dead." 
 
 Mr. Hervey covered his face with his hands, and 
 groaned. I saw the bereaved mother surrounded, and 
 led from the room, followed by her weej^ing daughters, 
 and those whose commiseration and sympathy was testi- 
 fied on every side. 'Mxs. Lionel Hervey, with one single 
 heart-rending scream, faltered^ and swooned at the feet 
 of the messenger. I saw Berkley hft her fi'om the floor. 
 A crowd came about them — the windows were thro^Ti 
 wide open — cold water was brought, and at the first sign 
 of returning consciousness, she was carried fi'om the 
 room. All had gone but me. 'Mr. Laud had followed 
 Colonel Berkley to the piazza to put a few questions rel- 
 ative to the disposal of the "body. 
 
 The whole sad scene was soon over. I saw the rebel 
 
WHITE CHIMNEYS. 295 
 
 officer shaking hands with the bereaved uncle, after 
 which he joined the company Hghting their cigars at the 
 gate. They all rode off directly. Mr. Laud dispersed 
 the servants by some orders, among which I distin- 
 guished a charge to close the shutters, and hang the 
 doors with crape. When he turned to re-cross the 
 threshold, I judged by the tears that filled his eyes that 
 the " successful arms " he had glorified had won for him 
 a dear-bought victory. 
 
EENSHAWE 
 .m. 
 
 PORT e\t;lyn. 
 
 Aye, now I am in Arden ; the more fool I : when I was at home I was in a 
 better place, but travelers must be content. 
 
 As You Like It. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 tPASS furnished by Captain Davis, who had been 
 very energetic in my behalf, enabled me to reach 
 Washington that night. 
 I was so ill that I made my way to my aunt's house 
 with difficulty, and soon sank entirely under a fever, which 
 prostrated me for nearly two months. I was long in 
 recovering my former vigor, and my convalescence was 
 attended with wearisome relapses. 
 
 Laud was at the North, on recruiting service, and 
 Cassy followed him as soon as my health was faiiiy re- 
 established. I had wi'itten twice to Mr. Shaker, but had 
 received no answer, and deteimined to make a flying visit 
 to Blue Hills, to ascertain for myself the cause of this 
 silence. On the momiug after Cassy's departure, I left 
 
POUT EVELYN. 297 
 
 the city by an early train, but missed a connection, and 
 did not arrive at Eocky Cross, in consequence, till noon. 
 At Rocky Cross I liired a little carriage, and drove solita- 
 rily down to Blue Hills by the road with which I was 
 already so famihar. There was the little cottage at which 
 I had first seen Edith Launey, and as I passed the picket 
 fence, confining the shrubbery, I almost expected the 
 appearance of that lovely demoiselle. There were the 
 same rocks and hills that I had noted with such a sinking 
 heart, during my midnight ride on Sunset ; there was 
 the cart-path running through the woods, within whose 
 gloomy shades I had left Tomlin on that memorable 
 night, and next came the cottage where I had first en- 
 countered the zouaves, and where the wounded rebels 
 had been taken by their fellows. The cottage seemed 
 singularly deserted ; no sign of life about it ; but I could 
 not tarry to investigate, and drove on rapidly to Blue 
 Hills. I came first, by a back road, to the village, where 
 I left my horse, and walked up toward Mr. Shaker's 
 dwelling. In the village, everything appeared to be going 
 on quietly, and quite as much as though the country was 
 undergoing no convulsion, as in any Northern town. 
 The old house at last loomed up before me. I saw the 
 fences, the dog kennel, the old cistern pole, the dilapi- 
 dated out-buildings, Singular Twist's straw hat hanging 
 on the shed. I walked up the path, and took my way 
 around the house to the back door. The dog crawled 
 feebly to the edge of the kennel, and whimpered faintly 
 as I passed. "When I came to the door of the back sit- 
 ting-room, the only sign of life I could distinguish was a 
 woman's voice, singing a song with a low refrain. She 
 sat with her profile toward me at the window, singing 
 and sewing. I recognised the hard features, the massive 
 knot of brown hair, the steady jerk of the hand that held 
 the needle, the skein of coarse thread hanging about the 
 
298 RENSHAWE. 
 
 sunburnt neck, and the low, full voice of the songstress. 
 She had not noticed me. 
 
 " IVIi'S. Judson !" said I. 
 
 The woman looked up ; there was an exclamation of 
 astonishment ; then the work fell to the floor ; she 
 caught me in her arms, gave me a hearty embrace, and 
 burst into tears. 
 
 "Oh, Miss Renshawe, jou can't think how overj'ied I 
 am to see you agin', arter so long a time, and this veiy 
 artemoon, while I wus settin' here alone, I wus a-thinkin' 
 about you, an' all the rest on 'em, an' the times we used 
 to have here. Good laws! whar did you come from? 
 I thort you must be dead, or forgotten aU about us !" 
 
 " Forgotten you ? no ! but where are Mr. Shaker and 
 Miss Edith?" 
 
 " Bless you ! ben gone this good while ; gone for all 
 winter. ]\Iiss Edith warn't well, an' they've gone to the 
 West Injies to stay all winter. Hevn't heerd from 'em 
 sense they left. ]Mi\ Shaker, you know, won't travel in a 
 locomotive, and wharever he goes it takes him a month 
 to git thar. They've gone in a steamboat, I believe. 
 Sing'lar Twist's gone a-visitin' his relations. Went to 
 stay three days, and ben gone now seven weeks ; but 
 that ain't nawthin' strange. S'pect they'll be a good deal 
 gladder to see him go than they wus to see him come." 
 
 " Then you are all alone here, -now ?" 
 
 " All but Sally Bunn. She's just gone up the moun- 
 tain to git a few yeast cakes ; time she vrus back. Sally's 
 growed a good deal in a year, ^Miss Renshawe — quite 
 tall an' lively now, and wars white stockens all the time. 
 She's a-goin' to be married ! Guess who it's to." 
 
 " Not Singular ?" I exclaimed. 
 
 "Laws, ;^Ess Renshawe, Sally's too spry to look twice 
 at Sing'lar. No ; it's the zwarve, Ehsha. They're a-goen 
 to be married, that is, providen' he doesn't get drunk in 
 
PORT EVELYN. 
 
 299 
 
 a year. I asked her how she wus to know, an' she said 
 
 he'd tell' her. Never see sech a poor bewitched critter in 
 
 • my life as that gal is. Mebbe he ken tell her as straight 
 
 as he walks ; I never seed him whenhe warn't haH tipsy." 
 
 "AndTomlin?" 
 . " Hain't sot eyes on him since the day we seed him out 
 o' that winder, a-walkin' down to the village. Miss 
 Edith, she writ two or three times, but never got no 
 answer ; an' I've wondered an' worried about him more 
 than a httle. Shed think he wus dead, but thar's ben 
 too many folks here inquiren' about him." 
 
 It was too late to return that night, consequently I 
 remained at Blue HiUs, and returned to Washington 
 during the following day. 
 
 That same evening Alice came. This fair demoiselle, 
 of course, was direct from Dixie, going back in a day or 
 two, and she brought information from Charleston that 
 fiUe'd me with dismay. My mother was very iU in that 
 city, was with Helen at my uncle's house, and the physi- 
 cians had pronounced her recovery doubtful ; still she 
 might Uve for several weeks. AHce had not seen her, 
 but had learned this report from a quarter that left no 
 doubt of its authenticity. 
 
 I immediately telegraphed to Cassy, and as soon as 
 that duty was off my hands, sought Alice in the dining- 
 room, to ask what she thought of my joining my mother 
 as soon as possible. 
 
 " Are you asking advice, or announcing a determina- 
 tion?" 
 
 "Announcing a determination, and inquiring about the 
 
 facilities." 
 
 " As to the facilities, you will get there more easHy 
 than you will get back again." 
 
 " That does not daunt me, AHce ; will you give me 
 exphcit directions how to proceed ?" 
 
^]00 RENSHAWE. 
 
 " You may accompany, me if you will ; I leave on 
 Monday morning." 
 
 " Two whole clays ! my heart responds to all but the 
 delay." 
 
 " You will probably," said my cousin, " save yourself 
 more than that delay in the end." 
 
 This was quite reasonable, and the arrangement was 
 made. 
 
 On Saturday, with my thoughts full of my poor mother 
 and Helen, I hurried about as fast as my melancholy 
 and disordered mind would permit, to get together the 
 proper articles for my journey. I had first concluded 
 some purchases at a large dry-goods store, and seated 
 myself to rest for a short time on a stool by the counter, 
 when I was suddenly accosted in a familiar voice, and on 
 looking up discovered that I had been addi-essed by my 
 old acquaintance, Hinda Hunter^ or, as matters stood 
 now, Mrs. Kamsay Jones. The face of one whom I had 
 known amid scenes so different, brought up a kindlier 
 feeling than might otherwise have arisen toward one 
 whose character I held in such contempt. I immediately 
 offered my congi'atulations on her marriage, not having 
 seen her at all since her widowhood. 
 
 Hinda repressed my congratulations, and, with syste- 
 matic precision, she began at the beginning, and pro- 
 ceeded to tell me " all about it." Those wretches, Go- 
 dolphin and Judith, had circumvented her by destroying 
 her first husband's will, before she reached home on the 
 night of the play at the Boui'dlemes'. She said she had 
 the misery of seeing them appropriate nearly all the estate. 
 She had a considerable portion of the personal property, 
 after what was paid the lawyers, and the law gave her a 
 life interest in one-third of ]Mi\ Hunter's estates. These 
 estates lay in the State of Maine. 
 
 Sui-prised to note a certain tremor in Hinda's voice. 
 
PORT EVELYN. 
 
 801 
 
 and to see tears in her eyes, I propbsed that we should 
 leave the store, and she led the way directly to the park, 
 where we sat down on a bench, in the most secluded 
 quarter, to continue the discourse. It was an hour of the 
 day when very few were passing, and no interruption 
 occuiTed to the narrative. Hinda went on to relate, that 
 after in part recovering from the chagrin that had been 
 caused her by this division of the property, she next 
 learned that there had been a terrible fraeas at Baltimore, 
 between Mr. Jones and her nephew-in-law, Godolphin 
 Hunter, now a colonel in the rebel army, in which quar- 
 rel that officious George Berkley was, of course, mixed up. 
 The papers publishing the transaction stated that the 
 quarrel was about Mrs. Hunter, and Hinda with the rest 
 of the world supposed it to be the wife of her nephew-in- 
 law that was meant, but to her great horror, a letter from 
 Jones apprised her that it was aU for her sake the quarrel 
 had arisen, and that he was ill in the hospital, (all for her 
 sake,) and without a penny he could call his own. 
 
 This version of the quarrel was a false one, but Hinda 
 did not suspect it. Alarmed by Jones's touching letter, 
 and its tremulous chirogi-aphy, she immediately left town, 
 scarcely stopping to pack a carpet-bag, arrived in Bal- 
 timore,^ and went directly to the hospital. She found 
 Jones convalescing,— sitting in a lower room, one hand 
 in a sling, the other playing cards— three other youths at 
 the card-table. He had a long talk with Hinda, re- 
 presented his mournful case in a touching manner, and 
 offered himself with his broken fortunes to the widow of 
 the millionaire. Hinda accepted the proposal, mangled 
 Jones the next day, and brought him away from the 
 hospital to take care of him tiU his shattered health was 
 restored. 
 
 "And I've done nothing but take care of him ever 
 since, Louisa! and he has done nothing but spend my 
 
302 RENSHAWE. 
 
 money and abuse me to people. I warn you, my dear 
 Louisa, never maiTy ! at least don't marry for love. Men 
 are all alike — all obstinate and selfish. No human being 
 could have doubted that Jones was in love with me once. 
 He would have married me when I was a penniless girl, 
 but I really don't know him now. All the money I had 
 from poor old Jonas, has been spent by that idle and ex- 
 travagant fool. This year's income from my real-estate 
 is all gone, and he wants me to sell out my life-interest in 
 it. He says I can do it, but I'm determined I won't do 
 that if he kills me, and I'm afraid he will kill me yet." 
 
 Here ]Mrs. Jones sobbed almost aloud. I felt sincerely 
 soiTy for her, but as far as consolation went, was dumb. 
 
 " If you would but come home with me, and remain 
 aU night," she pleaded — " stay a few days with me, it 
 would be such a kindness; Jones behaves infinitely better 
 before people." 
 
 I began to make some suggestion embracing the re- 
 formation of the individual alluded to, but ]\Ii'S. Jones 
 cut me short. 
 
 " Reformation indeed ! what can you hope fi'om a man 
 who has run through my capital in six months ? If Jones 
 had the wealth of Croesus to-day, he'd be penniless jn a 
 year." Another hour was here devoted to the relation 
 of that gentleman's misdemeanors. He was very in- 
 temperate; never was sober a whole day together; he had 
 squandered large sums of money at the gambling-table 
 and the race-course; associated with the lowest class of 
 men and women; and repaid his wife's kindness to him 
 by the basest ingratitude, calumniating her everywhere 
 he went. 
 
 " ^Miy do you not teU him that you wiU leave him, if 
 he continues to behave so ?" I inquired, my conscience 
 smiting me the same instant for giving such improper 
 counsel to a wife. 
 
PORT EVELYN. 308 
 
 " Oh, that -would not alarm him in the least. Indeed, 
 he has the advantage of me there; he has been threaten- 
 ing to go every day for the last month. All that keeps 
 him here now is the hoi^e of my selling my interest in 
 those Maine estates. I know that as soon as he sees that 
 sale consummated, I shall never behold him again. I am 
 very weak and silly to wish to see him at all, he says such 
 inhuman things; accused me yesterday of having married 
 Mr. Hunter for his money; but as I could retort by say- 
 ing that he married Mr. Hunter's widow with the same 
 object, he did not recur to that subject again." 
 
 Finding that Mr. Jones was too hopeless a character 
 to bear much discussion, I endeavored to lead my com- 
 panion's thoughts into another channel, and in allusion 
 to her invitation to Spend a few days with her, I began 
 to offer my excuses. I told her of my mother's illness at 
 Charleston, my intention of going South on the day fol- 
 lowing, and the necessity I was under of making my final 
 preparations on that evening. During these explanations 
 T was struck by the look of interest that appeared on 
 Mrs. Jones's face, and then by the meditative air and 
 mechanical attention which she bestowed on my con- 
 cluding excuses. 
 
 "I don't know," she said at last, "whether to say it is 
 owing to the fact that I never could exist without a con- 
 fidante, or to my conviction that you are providentially 
 thrown in my way to-day, that I propose to tell you a 
 very important secret. I must ask a few questions first, 
 however." 
 
 As I had never known Hinda to be without " a secret," 
 I experienced very httle curiosity, and answered these 
 questions without hesitation. 
 
 "In the first place, how do you suppose I am hving 
 ■ now, without any money, and such a husband as Jones to 
 support ?" 
 
30-i: RENSHAWE. 
 
 "I was at a loss to surmise," said I; "but I did not 
 like to ask you such a question." 
 
 "You were very generous," said Mrs. Jones, with a 
 sigh. " I cannot work, and you may judge by my dress 
 that I have nothing to sell. Jones carried everything to 
 the Jews — even to the last present that poor old ]Mr. 
 Hunter gave me. But my dear — now for my second 
 question. " How are your pohtics?" 
 
 " My pontics !" I echoed in amazement. 
 
 " Yes, my dear; you know it is a sort of fashion now to 
 be disunion, or ' secesh,' as the term goes — at least it is 
 so in many circles." 
 
 " I do not belong to such circles, thank God." 
 
 " Spoken like yourself; but perhaps you take no interest 
 at all in the question ?" 
 
 "I take the most vital interest in it," I replied. " Ever 
 since the late battle, my heart has never ceased to throb 
 with painful anxiety for the success of our arms, and the 
 supremacy of our government." 
 
 This again seemed to be spoken like myself, though 
 Mrs. Hunter did not say so. She glanced around with 
 an apprehensive air, and asked whether I thought a 
 private soldier and nurse, who were standing by a baby's 
 carriage at the gate, and engaged in profound discourse, 
 were near enough to hear the communications. Inasmuch 
 as the baby was screaming with the full power of a pair 
 of stout little lungs, I rephed in the negative. 
 
 In a lowered tone, and with a very confidential air, 
 Hinda went on to say that she had received latterly quite 
 a little sum of money for the performance of a service to 
 the government of the United States. Some information 
 that had been highly necessary, it had been in her power 
 to afford — in attestation of this, she produced a roll of 
 bills in a miserable, worn pocket-book; but inasmuch as 
 these services were not unaccompanied by danger, more- 
 
PORT EVELYN. 305 
 
 over as it was inevitable tliat Jones should miss her, if 
 she attempted a second repetition, she was willing to let 
 me take her place. As I was on the eve of departure for 
 the South, it would be directly in my way to perform this 
 service. Hinda owned that she had not succeeded re- 
 markably well — she was no hand at sketchiug intrench- 
 ments, but she recollected my talent for drawing — in fact 
 everything pointed me out for the work. I could bring 
 my information to her, and she would allow me a per 
 cent, on the profits. 
 
 I listened throughout without the shghtest idea of 
 entertaining the proposition. Certain arguments hi favor 
 of my mission, arose lazily in my mind; I recollected 
 Tomhn's remarks on the duties of a spy; it was a char- 
 acter which in Cooper's hands was that of a hero; an 
 ill-fated British officer had coupled the name with that 
 of martyr among his own countryman, and was regarded 
 with scarcely less esteem by ours. But these passing 
 tributes to Harvey Birch and Major Andre, were the only 
 mental wanderings I indulged. 
 
 "You are very kind in making me the offer," said I; 
 " but I am quite unable to accej)t it. In the first place, 
 I am filled with anxieties about my mother, and shall go 
 as dii'ect to Charleston as possible. Intrenchments and 
 fortifications are the last objects which I shall seek, and 
 more than this, I do not feel that a woman ought to take 
 any active part in this war, other than to alleviate to the 
 extent of her power the misery it will cause. If I thought 
 otherwise, I have not the nerve for such an errand as 
 this. Convinced as I am that a citizen of the United 
 States has a perfect right to travel to any part of the 
 country, it is a right which I am now obhged to regard 
 as a favor." 
 
 It is doubtful whether Mrs. Jones paid attention 
 enough to my arguments to preserve their connection ; 
 
306 RENSHAWE. 
 
 and after some inquiries about the time and mode of my 
 departui'e, she bade me farewell. I watched her retreat- 
 ing form, noted her weary gait, recalled the look of care 
 that sat so ill on her pretty, girlish features, and searched 
 my heart for all the commiseration that it would bestow. 
 The knowledge that all her miseries were brought upon 
 her by her own foUy, checked my sympathy from going 
 to undue lengths. 
 
 Sunday, Ahce was out again aU day on some business 
 of which I was willing to remain as ignorant as possible. 
 
 Monday morning the carriage came for my cousin and 
 me at early dawn. Just as we were quitting the house, 
 there was a ring at the door, and the familiar vision of 
 Mrs. Jones apj)eared in the haU. She exclaimed at her 
 good fortune in being just in time, and as Alice was 
 evidently in haste, Hinda huniedly whispered : " From 
 the war-office! — be careful and cautious!" thrust a 
 paper in my pocket and bade me a hasty adieu. 
 
 Of course I inspected the document before we were 
 fairly out of Washington. It said that Miss Louisa 
 Renshawe, in undertaking the service of • a spy, was 
 requested to foUow out instructions " herein given," and 
 would be entitled to such and such emoluments. These 
 instructions were printed. I ran over it aU with much 
 curiosity. 
 
 There was a scrap of a note inclosed by the volatile 
 ]VIi*s. Jones ; remarking that in procuiing this office for 
 her " dear Louisa," she would herself be content with a 
 smaU percentage on the profits. Before I had fairly rid 
 my mind of IVIrs. Jones and her characteristic offers, the 
 carriage stopped, and Alice dismissed the driver and led 
 the way into a wayside tavern, where quite a company was 
 assembled in the saloon. Alice walked around shaking 
 hands with the several females composing it, and as I 
 was not introduced, a ceremony with which I was quite 
 
PORT EYELYN. 307 
 
 ready to dispense, I took my seat in a retired quar- 
 ter. 
 
 " Where's Ramorny ?" Alice demanded. • 
 
 Ramorny had been there and was expected back every 
 minute. I knew him on his entrance, as the former land- 
 lord of the Seven Horns ; noticed that his eye rested 
 steadfastly on me a few seconds, but there was no sign 
 of recognition. We walked down a narrow pathway, 
 admitting only two abreast, some distance in the rear of 
 the hotel. Ramorny came up on the other side of Ahce, 
 who was walking with me, and asked for " the pass." 
 
 AHce presented a paper. " There it is ; read it." » 
 
 " Read it !" echoed Ramorny. " Pass the aunt and two 
 cousins of J. J. Butler ! Is this all the pass you have ? 
 How many of us are going through ?" 
 
 " AM of us." 
 
 Ramorny glanced back at the follo^ving line, muttering 
 " two — four — six — ten women ! Why, Miss Ludlow — not 
 all going through on this pass ? Who holds it ?" 
 
 "I — I'm J. J. Butler's aunt, and you and Miss Ren- 
 shawe are my two cousins. Louisa, take this gentle- 
 man's arm and go ahead." 
 
 I obeyed. My companion did not speak till we reached 
 the first gates, except to wonder how Miss Ludlow was 
 going to manage it. The barges lay close against the 
 banks of the river, flags and streamers decorating aU the 
 tents stretched along the sidewalks. Ramorny handed 
 the pass to a tobacco-chewing official who sat by the 
 gateway. 
 
 " What ship ye goen aboard on ?" he demanded. 
 
 " The Ossawattomie," rejoined Ramorny. 
 
 " Goen on the Swattomy ? don't know as she's in the 
 river. Say, Ben, is the Swattomy in the river ?" 
 
 " Clus by." Ramorny drew back, and the ladies filed 
 through. 
 
308 RENSHAWK 
 
 " Hold on!" exclaimed the soldier, suddenly. " Be all 
 your names on the paper ?" 
 
 " Certainly," said Ramorny, pulling it away. " Can't 
 you read ?" 
 
 The officer came up and took the pass. " Oh, Jerusa- 
 lem ! what's all this ? This all the pass ? Aunt and two 
 cousins of J. J. Butler. Where's the aunt ?" 
 
 Alice, turning with a most winning air, announced the 
 relationships severally. She was the aunt, this lady was 
 niece, this one cousin, that one uncle's wife's sister, and 
 so on, till the whole bevy had walked through. The 
 officer stood looking first at the pass and then at the 
 ladies, with the audible declaration, that it was the 
 " longest aunt and two cousins " he ever had seen in his 
 Hfe ; but at all events we were soon in the barge and half- 
 way across the river. I could not helj) expressing to 
 Ahce my high admiration of the manner in which people 
 managed to cross the lines. 
 
 " We're not across yet," rejoined my cousin, and I re- 
 pressed my raptures till the transit should be sui'ely 
 effected. We were stopped at another wharf, where a 
 change of boat became necessary, and another paper was 
 presented, with orders to pass the same, aunt and two 
 cousins of J. J. Butler, on board the Ossawattomie. 
 Eamorny had been busy at the paper with a lead pencil, 
 and the official who took it, looked puzzled at the 
 chirography. 
 
 "Aunt and twenty cousins, eh? Don't see but ten 
 cousins sir, if you're the aunt. "^Tiar's the other ten ?" 
 
 Ramomy said the other ten were coming in a day or 
 two. The soldier seemed worried to think that they 
 could not all go through at once, but finally yielded to 
 let our divided party pass. 
 
 The Ossawattomie was a Httle black tug-boat, by means 
 of which we were speedily set on the opposite shore. 
 
 My cousin and I separated from the rest of the party, 
 
PORT EVELYN. ^^^ 
 
 and proceeded together to a viUage not far from the shore. 
 I had overtaxed my strength, however, fairly gave way, 
 and was forced to detain Alice for several days befm^ we 
 proceeded. She woidd not consent to go on tiU my 
 strength was faii-ly restored. 
 
 It was fully one week after oixr departure from Wash- 
 iaHon, that my cousin and I renewed onr journey. We 
 were supplied each with a small black satchel which 
 Alice thought would answer all our necessities, fastened 
 bv straps across the shoulder. _ 
 
 "In case we should be separated, Louisa, she re- 
 marked at last, "it will be well for you to have a few 
 directions, which I wiU endeavorto make as plam as pos- 
 sible. In the first place, on reaching the Southern 
 pickets, the sentinel will challenge you, and say. Who 
 
 goes there ? ' " ^_ 
 
 "I am to say ' A friend,' I suppose. _ 
 
 "You are to say, 'A friend without the countersign. 
 You will then be ordered to await the approach of the 
 officer of the guard, who may come within an hour, per- 
 haps within a minute. When he comes, ask to see the 
 
 colonel." 
 
 " What colonel ?" 
 
 " Any colonel. When you see him, mention my name, 
 say you are my cousin, traveling with me, and wish to 
 see me. Then you will have no further trouble. 
 
 " Will the colonel put implicit faith in my statements ? 
 
 "He will probably detain you untU I come. I sha 
 inquire after you, of coui-se, and when I rejoin you, I wil 
 put you en route for Charleston. But Itrust we may not 
 
 "'^conversation had taken place in a Ught carriage, 
 which Alice had hired to convey us to the ne-t^tatiom 
 As she was senior partner in the enterprise, I had not 
 asled a single question, but suffered her to lead the way 
 whither she would. 
 
310 RENSHAWE. 
 
 Just as this short dialogue had come to an end, I per- 
 ceived, at the ascent of an accUyity, that left the road 
 open for a quarter of a mile, a party of men at full 
 advance up the highway. 
 
 AHce looked around, as though with the instinctive 
 thought of concealment, but such a measure was im- 
 practicable, and she drove on dehberately till we came 
 up with the party on the open highway. 
 
 We were immediately called upon to stop. The party 
 was composed of a comj)any of soldiers, e^idently raw 
 enough yet at their business; but I could not have decided 
 to which of the contending armies they belonged, were it 
 not for a fact that put the matter past conjectm-e. Captain 
 Walby — yes, the honorable Horace Edward Livingstone 
 himself — was among them, bound, and plainly under 
 guard as a prisoner. 
 
 Alice drew rein. Two of the party jumped off their 
 horses, one took ours by the bit, the other accosted us. 
 It was plain, from the boisterous actions and appearance 
 of the party, that they had been on what is termed a 
 spree. 
 
 * Alight, if you please, ladies," said that one of the 
 party, who, being in shoulder straps, had the principal 
 mission to address us. I obeyed the command, for it 
 was nothing else, but Alice, apparently unmindful of 
 these instructions, retained her seat. 
 
 " We'll examine this parcel," exclaipaed the master of 
 ceremonies, taking my bag from my hands and turning 
 it inside out for the benefit of the spectators. The first 
 things that appeared, were a large purse and a folded 
 paper. The officer threw the pui'se over his left arm 
 and opened the document. Had he been quite sober 
 I should have had less to fear from this inspection. 
 
 "A spy!" he exclaimed, in the loudest key of his voice, 
 thinking probably, if he thought at all, that my compan- 
 
PORT ETELTN. 311 
 
 ion was in the secret, and that his prisoner was never 
 to escape from custody. 
 
 "A spy !" was repeated in various tones. 
 
 " What's this other lady — she in the same category ?" 
 
 "I certainly was not aware," said Alice, who was 
 deadly pale, " that there was a spy in my company." 
 
 At this juncture, an officer, whose face at the first I 
 dimly recognized, suddenly stepped forward. " This is 
 de young lady I saw at de Blue Hills. Miss a — Shaker. 
 When Captain Good had dis company, dis lady she did 
 help us out of Colonel Hunter de rebel offisare. I am 
 Lieutenant Gallorda, Mese Shaker." 
 
 These words brought about a recognition. Gallorda 
 it was; but so altered by a profuse growth of beard, that 
 I scarcely knew him. If I was thus enlightened, another 
 gleam had dawned on Captain Walby's soul. 
 
 His eyes were directed against my physiognomy with an 
 expression more unpleasant than had ever visited it from 
 that source before. 
 
 " That's it eh ?" exclaimed the captain. " Shaker — 
 this name of Eenshawe is assumed of course. Well, 
 madam, being one of our spies, I'm sorry I've detained 
 you. Here you are, your calling sacred, your credentials 
 clear. Take your paper and your purse " 
 
 A sharp cut fi'om Alice's whip, set off her horse at a 
 bound. The hold on the bit had relaxed as soon as my 
 supposed character was proclaimed. The soldiers stood 
 staring after her, but not one attempted pursuit, which 
 was evidently useless, as the horse was unusually fleet, 
 and the next hill soon hid my fair cousin from sight. 
 
 As I before remarked. Captain Walby's eyes had re- 
 curred to my face very frequently, animated first by 
 recognition, then by an expression betokening how little 
 he thought of me and my mission ; and his chagrin was 
 in no wise rendered less, when he was ordered to dismount, 
 
312 RENSHAWE. 
 
 and his horse tendered me to facilitate my passage to 
 Dixie. It was the meekest-looking nag id the company, 
 and I hesitated not to accejDt him. I was now only 
 anxious to ride on after Alice and explain that I was not 
 a spy, and this course I attempted, when once released 
 from my captors, whose cheers sounded on the air behind 
 me long after they were out of sight. To find Alice, 
 however, was not so easy a matter, and I was obliged to 
 recall her directions and assail the picket-guard alone. 
 
 I was LQ no wise disappointed. On my inter\-iew with 
 the colonel, who fortunately was nobody I knew, I found 
 Alice's name as potent as she had prophesied. I inquired 
 the names of the nearest villages, and on finding "VMiite 
 Chimneys within a few miles, lost no time in hastening 
 thither, to gain fui'ther aid and direction, and was at 
 Mi'S. Hervey's house by nightfall. 
 
 CHAPTEK XXXn. 
 
 V 
 
 DTD not stay with the Herveys longer than one 
 night ; the next morning I departed in style. 
 I had left one trunk there, which, in the hurry of 
 my return to Washington, I had been unable to convey 
 across the Hnes. This trunk was safely deposited on the 
 baggage-car, myself inside the train after an affectionate 
 farewell taken of the Herveys at the White Chimney de- 
 pot, and by nightfall I had reached the world-renowned 
 city of Kichmond. 
 
 One misfortune had befallen me of quite a serious na- 
 ture nnder the circumstances. My pocket-book had been 
 abstracted by some light-fingered lady or gentleman, 
 which I could not teU, as several persons had occupied 
 the seat next to me. This circumstance was aU the 
 
PORT EM5LYN. 313 
 
 more provoking as I had always boasted that nothing 
 could be stolen from me without my knowledge, that I 
 had no fear of pick-pockets, and was always disposed to 
 hold every one in contempt who could not take the same 
 care of such property. But here in broad daylight, and 
 I wide awake, some one had actually made off with mine, 
 and my boasts were done. 
 
 It was about four o'clock in the afternoon; I was be- 
 ginning to realize the unpleasantness of my predicament, 
 from which I saw no way of escape, and a sudden shower 
 coming up drove me for shelter to a fruit and grocery 
 store on the corner of the street. I waited there for 
 half an hour, and when the rain had ceased lingered to 
 look at the drying sidewalks, revolving some questions 
 that I meant to put to some 'respectable party. In the 
 middle of these ruminations one among the group of 
 negro women looking over the fruits displayed in the 
 baskets outside the door, glanced up to speak to the 
 store-keeper, and had just got as far as "Massa, how 
 
 much are dese " when she caught my eye. She 
 
 looked irresolute, turned away, looked again at me. It 
 was undoubtedly she who had officiated as house-keeper 
 in the Seven Horns tavern at the time I had visited it. 
 The recognition was mutual. 
 
 " Cinderella !" I exclaimed. 
 
 ""WTiy, missus," she ejaculated, letting fall the little 
 basket on her arm in joy at the meeting. Then followed 
 quite a jubilee, in which I bore an equal part to say the 
 least, for I was overjoyed at the appearance of a friendly 
 face in my present extremity. 
 
 " I jest stepped out to do my marketing," said Cinder- 
 ella, " which isn't expensive to-night as my massa isn't in 
 to tea, an' I've nothin'much to pervide." 
 
 I waited till the marketing was done, and Cinderella's 
 basket fairly laden. 
 14 
 
314 RENSHAWE. 
 
 "You may walk a little way with me," said I, consider- 
 ing tliat her time was quite at her own disposal. Cin- 
 derella trudged along, all smiles immediately, and I took 
 mj way toward what seemed to be the most frequented 
 quarter of the city. 
 
 " You spoke of your master," said I, " Mr. Ramomy is 
 certainly not in Washington?" 
 
 "No missus, I don't see Massa Ramomy wery often 
 now. I'se a-libin' now wid an ole massa ob mine — Mr. 
 Skarfellow. He's a wery nice man indeed, an' I'se a 
 heap sight better off dan I was a-tuggin' an' tihn' up at 
 dem ar ole Seven Horns." 
 
 We had gone on with the Seven Horns under dis- 
 cussion for four or five blocks, when I perceived a fii'e 
 just ahead, and the crowd, the usual consequence, was in 
 this case dense. I turned off at right angles, Cinderella 
 accompanying, and after proceeding about three blocks, 
 perceived a regiment of newly-anived troops coming up 
 the street so that on reaching the comer it was impracti- 
 cable to cross. I turned off, again at right angles, and 
 after going about three blocks more found that we were 
 in the midst of such a rabble running along with the 
 regiment that I turned off at right angles again. By 
 this time I had described quite a j)arallelogTam, and 
 was back again in the vicinity of the fire. Matters here 
 had become more complicated. Several carts had been 
 stopped, and were trying to go down a side street, where 
 they were all jammed up. A mass of people had come 
 to a stand-still, and a herd of cattle which were threading 
 ^theu' way under the care of the drover, made confusion 
 worse confounded. After being thrown against Cinder- 
 ella's basket, the fii'st time by a cow, the second by the 
 pole of a carriage, after having been almost knocked 
 down once by a man, and twice by a fii'e-engine, I took 
 refuge with Cinderella upon the stej)s of a house: and 
 
PORT EVELYN. 315 
 
 stood there regarding the fate of my hat undergoing 
 demolition in the middle of the street, and the fire, cat- 
 tle, carriages and so forth with equal composure, when 
 Cinderella recalled me to my present dilemma by asking 
 " Weder missus still tought she had better keep on in 
 dis direction ?" 
 
 " AVliat du-ection is it ?" I asked. 
 
 " Puty near de docks jest now," said Cinderella; " as 
 missus don't seem to know much 'bout Eichmond, s'pose 
 she tells me whar she's a-goin' an' I'll take her dar my- 
 self." 
 
 "If you know of any poor family," said I, "living in a 
 decent sort of a place, who would shelter me for one 
 night, you can take me thither. To-morrow I expect to 
 go on to Charleston, traveling night and day." 
 
 "S'pose dat you come home to-night wid me," she 
 suggested. " My massa's house isn't sech a wery gret 
 ways off, and Massa Skarfeller isn't at home to-night, 
 he's gwine out ob de city, an' I speck to be all alone for 
 tree days." 
 
 The last observation led me to consider the proposal. 
 The name of Scarefellow was not very inviting, but 
 neither the man nor his name was anything to me. Cin- 
 derella's allusion to him as quite an old massa reconciled 
 me to the chances of an accidental encounter with him; 
 she had assui'ed me he would not be home in three days, 
 and I decided that an acceptance of her invitation would 
 be a far less evil than a nocturnal wandering through the 
 streets, and of anything else there was not the most dis- 
 tant prospect. I made four expressive knots in the 
 several corners of my handkerchief, and puting the same 
 on my head, pursued Cinderella along that quarter of the 
 street which could deserve the name of quiet only by 
 comparison. We were soon at the wharves, whose plank- 
 ing ran up behind a sort of scattered Dutch settlement 
 
316 EENSHAWE 
 
 of red brick and old wooden houses, and followed the 
 line of shipping to a scoop in the harbor opposite which 
 was a row of more pretentious buildings. In the centre 
 of this row Cinderella opened a gate which an iron weight 
 swung shut behind us, and through a Httle yard con- 
 ducted me to a one story fi-ame house with an attic on 
 top, and a small extension room built out in front. Across 
 the fi'ont ran a sign rudely painted on an old board: 
 
 ; O. SKAKEFELLOW. BOTES TO LET. 
 
 Cinderella took from her pocket a good-sized key, by 
 means of which she unlocked the door, and invited me 
 to enter. I found myself in an outer compartment, 
 seemingly used as a magazine for disabled oars, fishing- 
 ing nets, harness, and articles of like description, all 
 which I judge fi'om the fact that I endangered my neck 
 in stumbling over a few such specimens before I followed 
 Cinderella into the inner room, where soon, with the aid 
 of a match and a candle, she threw some light upon the 
 subject. It was a good-sized room, furnished with a 
 stout rag cai'pet and a cooking stove before the bare black 
 chimney, a rough table, three or four chairs, and the 
 walls were decorated by several coarse prints of madon- 
 nas, which led me to ask if !Mr. ScarefeUow were a Eoman 
 Catholic. 
 
 " He ! he !" laughed Cinderella, evidently finding the 
 question quite amusing. "No, missus, he isn't, nor any- 
 ting else, I reckon. I bought dese yer little picters at an 
 auction in a shanty, yesterday. No, no; dey ain't none 
 of de folks yere's got much religion; but I tink Massa 
 Scarefeller's about de best uv 'em." 
 
 " Folks ! More jDCople than you and your master in 
 the place ?" I exclaimed. 
 
PORT EVELYN. 817 
 
 Cinderella was quite embarrassed, " Well, dars folks 
 comes sometimes — comes to see Mas'r SkarfcUer." 
 
 Cinderella now changed the conversation by conduct- 
 ing me up the stairs, which were objects that had en- 
 gaged my attention on my entrance, though not noted 
 till now in the catalogue — said stairs being in reahty a 
 step ladder set against the side of the wall, carpeted by 
 a strip of ingrain, and balustered by a rope. 
 
 Cinderella ushered me into a barren compartment 
 above. Here, tired and disheartened, I took off my 
 satchel, whose strap had not parted company with my 
 shoulder that day, and proceeded to adjust my disor- 
 dered dress, while she went down to prepare supper. I 
 was in that state of mind that bids to-morrow take care 
 of itself, and sank wearily down by the window, pulled 
 aside the ragged curtain, and looked out on the little 
 yard by which I had entered. As there were but few 
 buildings across the way, there was little to obstruct my 
 view of that segment of the harbor washing the shore at 
 a short distance from the opposite sidewalk. The stars 
 were just appearing in the sky, and their Hght was 
 reflected in the waves of the river, disturbed only by 
 a few passing oars, for the bustle of the day was over. 
 Before I had been many minutes at the window, a shal- 
 lop, guided by a single pah' of oars, though two men 
 were seated within it, ghded up the hne of sloops and 
 other vessels on the shore, and ran upon the shoals. The 
 two occupants of the boat conversed a few moments, 
 when one moved off at a rapid pace along the wharves, 
 where his form was shortly lost among the shipping. 
 The other waited to fasten the boat. He seemed to find 
 some difaculty m selecting a mooring, and having at 
 length secured the vessel to a stake that suited his pur- 
 pose, came up with dehberate step to the quarter where 
 the stone pavement gave the first appearance of a side-walk. 
 
318 RENSHAWK 
 
 Of course, in the distance and gathering darkness, the 
 features of the pedestnan were not distinguishable, 
 there was, however, a certain freedom in his air, and an 
 elegance attaching to his figure, on which I bestowed a 
 passing admiration; for I supposed he would soon disap- 
 pear fi'om my sight. But, on the contrary, he followed, 
 fi'om the corner, a diverging Hne across the street, whose 
 terminating line could be at this gate alone. I was not 
 a little concerned when this indication was confirmed. 
 The gate swung shut. The stranger had entered, and was 
 coming up the short walk to the outer shed. 
 
 I ran to the head of the step-ladder with undefined 
 sensation, called to Cinderella that somebody was com- 
 ing to see Mr. Scarefellow, and bade her not to mention 
 my name, a charge which, on farther reflection, I was 
 sure she would obey. Cinderella hastened to tie on an 
 apron, and adjust her tiu'ban, at the same moment that a 
 confused trampling sounded in the outer room. 
 
 " What's the door locked for ?" called a voice, after a 
 severe shake on the portal. " Cinderella !" 
 
 " Oh, de goodness sakes ! ^\Tiat shall I do ?" exclaimed 
 Cinderella to herseK, in tones of consternation. " Wait 
 a minute, massa," she called aloud. " Let you right in." 
 
 Cinderella drew the bolt of the inner door, and while 
 I stood shivering with apprehension at the head of the 
 step-ladder, and wishing there were some other outlet to 
 the abode, the new-comer stalked leisurely in, called for 
 his slippers, and ordered supper at once. With a quak- 
 ing soul I noticed the dim outline of his back, turned 
 towards the step-ladder, and the gentle aroma of a cigar 
 was next perceptible. 
 
 " Wus jest a-buildin' de fire as you cum, mas'r Scare- 
 feller," said Cinderella, apologetically, " but dar ain't 
 notki' much for tea. Tink it would be nice to hev some 
 Httle fishes, don't you ?" 
 
PORT EVELYN. 819 
 
 Her master replied by an affirmative ejaculation. Cin- 
 derella proceeded. 
 
 " Dar's notin' nicer dan yer little trouts. Little trouts 
 is nice now in de market. S'pose you likes 'em, does yer, 
 massa?" 
 
 ''Yes." 
 
 " Better step out an' git some, eh?" 
 
 " You may go if you like." 
 
 Cinderella bustled about uneasily. " Ain't you a-goin' 
 out agin, massa, anywhars ?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 Cinderella hauled a table, flourished a cloth, and rattled 
 tea-cups energetically. After several attempts at speak- 
 ing, she said, with some difficulty of articulation, " Mas'r 
 SkarfeUow, I've done somethin' very wrong since you've 
 been gone." 
 
 " It would be something quite unusual if you had not," 
 replied Mr. Scarefellow, in better language than the 
 spelling of his advertisement-board would have led me to 
 expect. 
 
 Cinderella chuckled. " Dat's so — but dis is little extra. 
 Oh, massa, s'pect you'll be awful mad." 
 
 " WeU, out with it. Can't you speak ?' 
 
 Cinderella seemed to find some difficulty in speaking. 
 " Well, mas'r, dar's a lady here." 
 
 " A black woman ?" 
 
 " No, real white lady," said Cinderella, growing bold, 
 now that the ice was broken. " She's up stairs in your 
 room." 
 
 " The deuce she is ! What made you take her up in 
 my room ?" 
 
 " 'Cause hadn't nowhar's else to take her." 
 
 " What did she come here at all for ?" 
 
 " 'Cause hadn't nowhar's else to cum to," hallooed Cin- 
 derella, who, right or wrong, was determined to give her 
 
320 RENSHAWE. 
 
 master as good as he sent. " De lady isn't very well. 
 She lost all her money on de cars. She hadn't nowhar's 
 to go. She didn't know nobody in Eichmond. I seed 
 her up in Jersey. Know'd she was a lady well 
 'nough." 
 
 " ^Miat's her name ?" 
 "Dat's mor'n I know, massa." 
 
 " Well, yon ought not to vouch for people imtil you 
 know as much as that, at least. Now, then, I must say 
 it's a devilish cool piece of business, and you must not do 
 such a thing again." 
 
 " I didn't s'pect you home, massa." 
 " I know you didn't. That makes it all the worse. 
 Have you ever known Mr. Ramomy or me to incite a 
 woman into this house, or a man either, who didn't come 
 after boats?" 
 " No, massa." 
 
 "Well, then, don't do such a thing again." 
 " I won't, massa. I'll go up Aow and tell her you've 
 cum, an' she'd better go." 
 
 " No. You need not do that. I won't turn anybody 
 out doors who is so anxious to come in as the female 
 must be if she is ill, and has lost her pocket-book. Now, 
 then, just get tea in a huny. I've had nothing to eat 
 since four o'clock this morning." 
 
 The deep, palatal tone of ^Ir. Scarfellow's voice was 
 very famlHar, but I had not ventured to trust my ears 
 unsupj)orted by my eyes, and now I came hui'riedly down 
 the step-ladder. No fai'ther confirmation was needed. I 
 could scarcely ejaculate, "^Ii\ Tomlin." 
 
 "Miss Renshawe! Good heavens!" It was difficult 
 to say which was the more surprised, or the more de- 
 hghted. Of the first hurried questions and answers, my 
 mind was too disordered for retention. I was soon seated 
 at the fireside, my old acquaintance opposite, and recount- 
 
PORT EVELYN. 821 
 
 ing rapidly all my woes and adventures for the last few 
 days. Tomlin listened in rapt attention. 
 
 " You must not think of leaving for Charleston by the 
 route you propose," said he, when I had concluded. 
 " For the next day or two your only safety Hes in follow- 
 ing my counsel." 
 
 " What danger can I encounter ?" I asked. 
 
 " You say that Alice Ludlow heard Gallorda proclaim 
 you a Union spy ? In that case you have escaped very 
 well until the accident that brought you here, and you 
 must not tempt Providence fui^ther ! If you attempt to 
 go to Charleston or to leave this place openly, you will 
 find your way at once blocked. You must avoid the rail- 
 road depots like a pestilence, if you would escape arrest." 
 
 Further discourse was postponed till after supper, and 
 it grew so absorbing as to keep us in conversation till 
 long after midnight. I had forgotten my weariness quite 
 in the reunion, and was relieved of my recent distress 
 when new plans had been sketched, and a new course 
 decided on. Tomlin proposed, and I adopted his propo- 
 sitions without cavil. He said that he was about to leave 
 Richmond on the following day by water. He would 
 bring me to a point whence I could pursue my way to 
 Charleston unimpeded. 
 
 " Now, then," said I, when the final arrangements had 
 been concluded, " I am without finances, and must ask 
 for a loan." 
 
 Tomlin's face illumined. " As long as I have a crust, 
 you know who will divide w^ith you," was his reply. He 
 turned the oil lamp to a higher blaze, emptied a purse of 
 its silver, and a pocket-book of its bank notes, counted 
 them over hastUy, and handed it all to me. 
 
 " But this is not dividing," said I. " It is giving me all." 
 
 "No. I can get more to-morrow. There ishttle more 
 than enough there to take you to Charleston." 
 14* 
 
322 eenshatvt:. 
 
 There were nearly fifty dollars. I knew it was all he 
 had, and was not so sure that he could get more on the 
 morrow; but TomHn would not hear to any refusal. 
 
 Tomlin advised me against making any effort whatever 
 to take my trunk. He thought I might be thankful to 
 make good my escape. I acquiesced in the opinion at 
 last, securing the check, that I might, at some futui'e day, 
 recover my property from the express office, and made up 
 my mind to depart, with my satchel as my only baggage, 
 fi'om Richmond. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXm. 
 
 XE incident of our sail down the river must be 
 detailed. TomHn entered the cabin of the boat 
 when we had been an hour under way, and in- 
 quired: "Did you destroy that paper that Gallorda in- 
 spected, when you came across the border ?" 
 
 "No, not yet." 
 
 " Do it now then ; it is a very dangerous thing for you 
 to carry." 
 
 I opened the satchel, and took out carefully all the 
 contents. No paper was there. 
 
 " Lost !" suggested my companion. 
 
 " Mr. Tomlin," said I, " that paper is in my trunk in 
 Richmond. I put it in it a day or two ago, and forgot 
 to take it out again." 
 
 Tomhn looked a little grave, but finally decided to 
 reassure me, by saying that there might be no danger in 
 leading it there. The trunk might not be molested. I 
 asked if he thought it would be well to go back in quest 
 of it; and produced my ticket for its safe keeping. 
 
 Tomlin smiled, advised me not to risk anything to 
 
PORT EVELYN. 323 
 
 keep the ticket; probably I would not want it till the war 
 was over and the matter was laid at rest. 
 
 I parted from Tomlin with sadness of heart; he fur- 
 nished me with full directions how to proceed, with the 
 most cheering assurances, charging me to repress my 
 anxiety to hear from my mother till I reached Suffolk, 
 whence I might telegraph in safety, and after seeing me 
 en route for that place, and regretting that I was not ac- 
 companying him to the North, he bade me farewell. 
 
 At Suffolk, I telegraphed to Charleston. The reply 
 came from one of my unknown relatives, and contained 
 the following announcement : " Mrs. Eenshawe is well. 
 Left Charleston with Helen two weeks since." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXrV. 
 
 Misdirected strength mil often show itself like weakness, 
 
 Only a Wojian's Heart. 
 
 5ONE but those who have suffered from anxiety 
 like that which this message reUeved, will com- 
 prehend how speedily the intelligence revived my 
 courage. My mother was well, and as she had been two 
 weeks away from Charleston, was perhaps at home. My 
 only thought now was how to get back myself. 
 
 Near the point where I had crossed the lines with 
 Alice, I expected to make my way back with httle diffi- 
 culty. After several days spent at Suffolk, for the sole 
 purpose of recruiting my wasted strength, I set out again 
 for the North, a bourne which I longed from my very 
 soul to reach. 
 
 It was about ten o'clock on a Monday morning, the 
 fall of 1861, I was on board one of the cars of a very long 
 rain, whose course was generally northward. I had 
 
324 RENSHAWE. 
 
 been traveling for about five hours, my inseparable 
 satchel firmly clasped to my side, and my eyes regaled 
 by glimpses of scenery apparent from the banks on which 
 the train occasionally ran. A company of soldiers was 
 on board, as I became aware by seeing several of them 
 slipping on and off at the stations. 
 
 The door of our car was opened suddenly by an officer, 
 whom I recognized in unspeakable consternation ! Caj)- 
 tain Walby! I half arose from my seat; but too late for 
 escape — he had seen me; his look of triumphant exulta- 
 tion left that past a doubt. With a leisui-ely step, as 
 though to lengthen out the torture, he was coming 
 toward me. 
 
 The lady at the outside of the seat was suddenly 
 thrown against me at that moment, and I against the 
 window. We had hardly exchanged a " beg your 
 pardon," when I went as forcibly in the other direction 
 against the lady. The next thing I remember was a 
 sudden flying together of the backs of the seats — a crash 
 in front, screams, cries, exclamations, great excitement — 
 car slanting and stationary on the bank, and eveiybody 
 off with a rush. I followed the crowd as soon as suffi- 
 ciently recovered to do so. The engine had run off the 
 track with three cars, which had sustained the principal 
 damage. The accident was a serious one, although the 
 conductor tried to allay the excitement of the passengers 
 by saying that he had seen worse ones. 
 
 In the midst of a commotion so occasioned, I had 
 forgotten all about Caj^tain Walby, who was certainly 
 quite oblivious of me. I was first recalled to the know- 
 ledge of his existence, by perceiving him engrossed 
 around the debris of a smashed-up car, from which the 
 brakeman and passengers were extricating several injured 
 soldiers, and as I saw that no earthly advantage could 
 acci-ue to me or any of n^y fellow-creatui-es by my linger- 
 
POBT EVELYN. ^25 
 
 ing in that hostile vicinity, I drew up my shawl about 
 my shoulders, and, regardless of certain bruises, of which 
 I was conscious as soon as I got in motion, I walked 
 away on the track as fast as I could to the next station 
 
 It was not more than a mile before me. Everybody 
 there was talking about the accident in so much excite- 
 ment, that I could hardly gain any attention; inasmuch 
 as I did not proclaim my late journeying on the cars. I 
 lingered there hardly long enough to learn where I was, 
 and heard, with a thrill of exultation, that I was little 
 more than twelve miles fi'om an important town, th^n oc- 
 cupied by the Union army. 
 
 Trembhng with hope, and not daring to put a smgle 
 question that might compromise success, I walked off to 
 the northward. I saw no reason why my progress to the 
 ^oal I sought to reach need be impeded. With Captain 
 Walby, my greatest risk was evaded. I did not think 
 any obstacle to my course would now be insurmount- 
 
 able. „ T 1 • 
 
 I was soon worn and tired with the walk, and havmg 
 reached a quiet nook in the woods, I sat down to ponder 
 my chances of escape, and find a short rest. I had ]ust 
 emptied the dust from my boots, and cooled my temples 
 at a spring, when a sound of human voices warned me 
 that I could not remain long unmolested; and I plunged 
 into the adjacent bushes, where I waited, scarcely danng 
 to breathe, till the train should pass by. 
 
 It was six cannons with mud-laden wheels, drawn by 
 powerful beasts of burden, and escorted by a small party 
 of soldiers. On the mound which I had just quitted 
 they stopped, and a consultation ensued to which I was 
 an interested listener. 
 
 "It won't never do, Jeems," said one; "bosses caen t 
 never tote these yer guns up the hill to the^ camp 
 to-night. Mud was nation thick in the holler, an ef we 
 
826 KENSHAWE. 
 
 get stuck in tlie bogs up yunder, it'll take all the critturs 
 on airth to haul us out" 
 
 " Well, leave the nags yere, an' go arter more critturs," 
 responded another; " take a dozen apiece an' we'll git the 
 guns up the hill right smart." 
 
 This proposition was assented to ; after tying the 
 horses to the neighboring trees, the party struck off in 
 the direction of the camp. 
 
 It was a still autumn day. The foliage of the forest 
 had put on hues of red and gold — the declining sun was 
 a fiery ball in the atmospheric haze, and the moon had 
 been visible since midday in the heavens. I knew the 
 soldiers would not return under an hour, and emerging 
 from my concealment, I began to look about leisurely on 
 the surroundings. 
 
 The cannons belonged to the United States, as I saw 
 by their labels. U. S. was on the harness of the horses; 
 it was clearly all the stolen property of the Government. 
 Dangerous as was my own position, I could not see this 
 without a transient emotion of indignation. I looked 
 again at the sky — adown the A'alley — on the hills toward 
 which the sun was tending. Westward, I knew, lay the 
 rebel encampment; eastward, through a road filled 
 with enemies, lay my route home. I was all alone ; there 
 was nothing human near. With resolute hands I began 
 to untie the horses. 
 
 They were soon all at Hberty, their heads directed 
 towards the east. 
 
 It took me some time to complete these arrangements, 
 notwithstanding that the animals moved with all the 
 docility of thoroughly trained artillery horses, but at 
 last the cannons, with the caissons, of which last there 
 were only t^^o, stood in Indian file in the road. 
 
 This was all done, and no one had come; and mount- 
 ing the foremost cannon. I applied the whip to the 
 
PORT EVELYN. 
 
 327 
 
 horses and gave them the rein. They moved at a lagging 
 gait and I was oftentimes tempted to abandon the 
 enterprise I had undertaken; but when it grew after 
 sunset, and I fouad I was a considerable distance from 
 the camp, and still unmolested, my hopes grew stronger, 
 . and I calculated to make my way out of the enemies' 
 ground before daybreak. 
 
 . On one hill the straps gave way in the middle of the 
 train, dividing a gun-carriage from the horses behind it, 
 and it cost me no little time and trouble to repair the 
 deficiency. Coming through the forest, every wheel on 
 one side sank in a rut nearly to the hub, causing a great 
 commotion among the horses, as they were successively 
 taxed to jerk out their burdens. I watched this process 
 with anxiety; the last wheel fairly gave way, and the dis- 
 abled gun-carriage anchored the whole train in the 
 middle of the road. 
 
 Nothing could be done but to leave it; I detached the 
 horses and we moved on, thankful that I had been 
 obhged to sacrifice no more than one gun. It was grow- 
 ing quite dark; I was forced to proceed with more caution, 
 and it cost me no little trouble to avoid the ruts in the 
 
 road. 
 
 I was stiU pursuing a circuitous route through the 
 forest, and it was full two hours after sunset, when a 
 noise 'like the trampling of hoofs alarmed me. I im- 
 mediately stopped my own team, hoping to he concealed 
 in the gloom until the approaching party had passed 
 by. The hope was vain; an unlucky snort fi'om one of 
 the horses revealed our vicinity. I made an attempt to 
 escape with those that had drawn the broken guncar- 
 riage, but it was too late. 
 
 - Here; come up with the lanterns," shouted one of the 
 party, the dim outline of whose figures appeared in the 
 darkness. " We'U find out what team this is. Why laws; 
 
328 RENSHAWE. 
 
 there s a hull drove. Fetch the light, and be quick. 
 Yours respectfully, Good." 
 
 This peroration, conjuring up reminiscences of Blue 
 Hi Us, Kocky Cross, and Caney Fork in old Maryland, 
 brought some hope of deliverance. I pressed hastily 
 forward, as the lights were brought up, and fell on my 
 face. 
 
 "Oh !" Good drew out the ejaculation to the utmost 
 power of extension, roUing a quid of tobacco reflectively 
 in his cheek. " Methinks I've seen youi' face before — 
 Shakespeare ! Well, wait here boys till the rest of the 
 party come up. Tou ain't alone here ma'am, with so 
 much gun." 
 
 I did not answer. A dim recollection flashed upon me 
 that Good had deserted fi'om the Federal army, and 
 joined the rebels. I felt that I had now to deal with 
 that most despicable of all characters, a traitor to the 
 flag he had sworn to protect; the dog among wolves. 
 
 As they came in sight of the guns one after another, 
 questions were put to me as to where they came from; 
 where I was going with them; whose they were; et 
 cetera. 
 
 To all this, I made no response. Good grew irate. 
 He descended from his horse and ai)proached me with a 
 flourish of the sword, demanding how far I had come 
 with those cannon, and whither I was bound with them. 
 As I was still speechless, he thundered the question in 
 my ear; finding that he forced no answer, he threw me 
 with violence on the ground. 
 
 I was not stunned nor at all injured, and rose amid 
 the murmurs of the soldiers, dii'ected against the un- 
 manliness of the officer. A severe rebuke was uttered 
 by one, in whose mouth it seemed to carry authority, and 
 while Good was defending himself, a reinforcement to 
 the party came up from behind. 
 
PORT EVELYN. S29 
 
 "Here comes tlie colonel!" exclaimed several of my 
 captors. The lanterns were elevated, and voices raised in 
 greeting. " Hallo, colonel, we've captured five cannons, 
 with these teams. 
 
 " How many in charge ?" asked a voice which thrilled 
 through my every nerve, as I recognized it. It was 
 Hunter's. " One," replied Good, with an uneasy laugh. 
 " Yes, sir, one," said an out-spoken officer, " who has 
 just been knocked down by Captain Good without pro- 
 vocation." 
 
 "For shame, sir!" said Hunter, sharply. "A pris- 
 oner is sacred." 
 
 Good began to apologize volubly, but Hunter cut him 
 short. 
 
 "A man who insults a prisoner is a coward. That's 
 enough, sir— fall back. Corporal, find the man a horse, 
 and bring him in with your guard," 
 
 " Man !" exclaimed the corporal. " It's a woman." . 
 
 " A woman !" repeated Hunter in indescribable tones. 
 
 "Yes, colonel," said Good in the most subdued and 
 
 meek of voices. " Her name is Shaker. I met her once 
 
 in Maryland." 
 
 "Very well— bring her with the guns," rejoined the 
 colonel, and to my great relief he rode on without 
 having seen me. Finding that I was plunging deeper 
 and deeper in dilemmas, my chief concern was to 
 keep as quiet as I could, so I availed myself of the horse 
 brought by corporal, and moved on in the rear of the 
 party. 
 
 It was a fatiguing night for me. The column, guns, 
 and aU were in motion tiU daybreak. As soon as the 
 light broke over the hills, I discovered that I was mov- 
 ing in the rear of a larger body of men than I had sus- 
 pected from the noiselessness and celerity of their move- 
 ments. A fresh breeze was blowing up, and the sun was 
 
330 RENSHAWE. 
 
 just breaking in full glory over the mountains as we rode 
 upon an acclivity where the waving banners betokened 
 the close vicinity of a town under Confederate rule. 
 
 " ^Miere are we now ?" I asked of my escort. 
 
 " This is Port Evelyn, madam." 
 
 " Is it Colonel Hunter's head-quarters ?" 
 
 " Don't know as it's anybody's much. Colonel Hun- 
 ter's here, maybe — maybe not. He won't be here long." 
 
 I asked no further questions. The termination of our 
 long night's journey had come, and I was shut up under 
 close guard for the day. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 § 
 
 N awaking from a deep sleep about the middle of 
 the day, I was so far recovered fi'om my fatigue 
 that I at once set about explaining my situation. I 
 was confined in the ruins of a Roman Catholic church, the 
 body of which had been destroyed by fire. What was 
 left of the pews and chancel had been used by the sol- 
 diers to stable their horses ; the vestry-room remained 
 intact, except that the walls were blackened by the 
 smoke, and it was here that I was kept under lock and 
 key. From the windows there was no chance of escape, 
 as a high wall, erected on the outside, not only debarred 
 egress, but prevented a view of anything without, and to 
 a great extent excluded the light of day. AH doors were 
 secured with the exception of one that led to the belfiy, 
 which, contrary to the usual custom, was placed above 
 the vestry-room of the chui'ch. I ascended first, by a 
 dilapidated stair-case, next by a step-ladder into this 
 compartment. The steeple had fallen, and from the 
 
POET EVELYN. 831 
 
 turret I emerged into the ox^en daylight, whence I could 
 command a prospect of the country. 
 
 The view to the North was shut off by a range of hills 
 running down westward, till their pinnacles were lost in 
 the distance. Port Evelyn, a town not remarkable for 
 its size or beauty, lay to the East, and was situated on 
 the curve of a river seemingly turned out of its course by 
 a mountain on the opposite shore. Southward lay a 
 section of country wearing that air of desolation too 
 frequently accompanying the march of an army, which 
 he who has once seen can never mistake. Fields laid 
 waste without the scythe, harvests brought low without 
 the sickle, trampled grain and leveled fences, house, 
 cottages and barns in ruins — these were everywhere — 
 ravages by another hand than that of Time. 
 
 At Port Evelyn itself, all was in keeping. Iron-works, 
 mill and manufactory, all were still. One building was 
 prominent over all. This was a substantial house of 
 stone, and bearing those indications which mark the 
 owner a man of opulence and taste. The main building 
 was square, furnished with balconies, awnings, arches 
 and a white railing running round the roof where the 
 Confederate flag was conspicuous. The wings, which 
 were many, took rambling and disorderly forms. The 
 mansion stood near the river as well as I could deter- 
 mine, and when I marked the number of soldiers, glanc- 
 ing by the windows, grouped on the balconies, and pass- 
 ing back and forth from the out buildings, I decided that 
 the most favored place had been chosen for the head- 
 quarters. 
 
 As it was the most interesting spot to which I had 
 had access yet, I remained in the belfry watching the 
 movement of the soldiers at the distant building while 
 the daylight lasted. A short time after sunset, as I be- 
 gan to contemplate an abandonment of my post, some 
 
832 RENSHAWE. 
 
 loud voices below made me aware that my guards wanted 
 to know why the devil I had chmbed up there — didn't I 
 know they would be in a peck of trouble if I couldn't be 
 found? They understood that I was a woman that was 
 forever getting into some mischief, and I'd better come 
 down fi'om that while it was hght enough to be seen. 
 
 I obeyed with alacrity. My guards, whose hearts were 
 still beating with the alarm inspired by my non-appear- 
 ance, informed me gi'uffly that I must not be out of the 
 way, for they had orders to bring me before Governor 
 Chives within the half -hour, and if I had any getting ready 
 to do, it must be done in the interval. Excited by this in- 
 teUigence, I pushed all the getting ready in my power by 
 endeavoring to compose my mind for the coming meet- 
 ing, and to reflect calmly on my method of defence before 
 the formidable tribunal. 
 
 The vestry-room in which I was confined was as dark 
 as a dungeon, and there was nothing to distract my 
 thoughts, except the occasional snort of a horse on the 
 outside, or the blow of a hoof on the floor. Some words 
 at last attracted my attention. 
 
 "I tell you what, it's resky," said one of the guards. 
 " I hope it won't be sech a gret while we're yere clus by 
 the inimy's kentry. Ye ort to hev seen how black the ole 
 governor looked to-night, when he found the reinforce- 
 ments wasn't comin'. With the kentry full o' spies 
 what's to pervent the Yankees from findin' out how few 
 thar is here, and what we're waitin' for, though they do 
 fetch in the ammunition by night ?" 
 
 "Wal, don't be talkin'," rejoined the other." Their 
 voices died away, lea^dng me to console myself by the re- 
 flection that the present Confederate corps was not so 
 secure as it might be in its own estimation. 
 
 When considerable time, more than half at hour, had 
 elapsed, a key worried o]Den the rusty lock, a ray from a 
 
PORT EVELYN. 333 
 
 lantern fell across the floor, and I was ordered to come 
 forth. There was no moon visible, for the sky was 
 clouded. I followed my guide as he picked his way with 
 muttered curses through the entangled branches of the 
 fallen trees about the churchyard. The imposing build- 
 ing I had noticed from the belfry was lighted up from 
 garret to cellar. For this the soldier struck in a direct 
 line across the grove, and I followed, glad that suspense, 
 at least, had neared its termination. 
 
 I was conducted up a flight of stone steps, and within 
 the building, followed my conductor across a hall, and 
 found myself next in a sort of small reception-room, with 
 a part of the wall torn away. There were several women 
 there already, some Irish, some Scotch, one or two 
 thorough-bred Yankees, whose manners and attire pro- 
 claimed them all to belong to a degraded class of hu- 
 man beings. They were called out one after another; 
 a lot of four had just been summoned; and a period of 
 time elapsed which I hardly thought would suffice for 
 the disposal of any case, when my guard looked in and 
 called authoritatively, " Shaker." 
 
 Knowing well enough by whose cognomen I was figur- 
 ing, I followed the soldier within a square, and what had 
 once been an elegant room ; but the hasty arrangement 
 of the fu2miture to meet the requirements of its present 
 denizens, the torn carpet, the defaced panels, the curtain- 
 less windows, the damaged paintings, only marked what 
 once had been. 
 
 At the head of the room, seated by a table, sat the un- 
 mistakable Governor Chives. Just at his elbow, and 
 back of the lamp, was the still more unmistakable Colonel 
 George Berkley. There was another table, improvised 
 from two chairs, and an injured pier-glass. Several weary 
 looking young men, in citizen's clothes, sat at this table, 
 some writing busily, those nearest to the governor with 
 
334 EENSHAWE. 
 
 pens behind their ears. The hai*p of a shattered piano 
 stood against the wall, and Captain Whipplestaff was 
 pulling at the stiings by way of pastime, producing 
 sounds with a torturing variety. Otherwise the room 
 was full of officers, tallying in undertones, and floating in 
 a cloud of tobacco-smoke fi'om the folding doors, where 
 sat the governor, to the windows at the farther end. No 
 body stirred when I came in. Colonel Berkley sat with 
 his sideface and shoulder turned toward the arena which 
 I had just entered, close in conversation with a uni- 
 formed gentlemen, who wore a very long, black beard. 
 He had not seen me yet, and after a second glance had 
 assured me of his identity, I put my hands behind me, 
 according to my custom when at a loss what to do with 
 them, and with my eyes on the floor, awaited what was 
 coming next. 
 
 A moment's breathing-time was allowed me, while Gov- 
 ernor Chives consulted some memorandum lying beside 
 him on the table. 
 
 "Let me see" — the murmur was almost inaudible — 
 " Blue Hills — Shaker — ah — this is Good's affaii' — Peters, 
 call Captain Good!" Peters withdrew. Chives jerked off 
 his eyeglasses. "Toui* name, madam, if you please." 
 
 " Louisa Renshawe." 
 
 At this reply, spoken without di-awl or -brogue, or 
 Yankee twang, a dozen heads were hfted and turned 
 simultaneously toward me. Every voice in the room, in- 
 cluding even Berkley's, stopped short. 
 
 " Where were you born ?" demanded the governor. 
 
 " In New York," I repHed. All the scribes at the table 
 set theu' pens in motion and made a note of the fact. 
 
 " Where abouts in New York ? " 
 
 "At the village of Renshawe, near Lopetown, Long 
 Island." 
 
 " Have you lived there all youi' hfe ? " 
 
J 
 
 POET EVELYN. 835 
 
 "Until within a year." All this intelligence was tran- 
 scribed at the table. 
 
 " Where have you been since March of this year ?" con- 
 tinued my questioner. 
 
 I mentioned the several places of my sojourn. I had 
 been at New York, at Spuytenduyvil, at a village in Mary- 
 land, at "Washington, at White Chimneys in Virginia, at 
 the city of Kichmond, at Suffolk, and at Port Evelyn. 
 
 Chives waited for the clerks to finish the enumeration, 
 and then put the next question : 
 
 " Supply the name of the village in Maryland you al- 
 luded to." 
 
 Blue Hills." 
 
 "VMiile at Blue Hills, did you, or not, ride forty miles 
 on horseback, at dead of night, to report the presence 
 of a body of Confederate troops, at Rocky Cross, to a 
 Federal force at Caney Fork, by which means the Con- 
 federate body were routed, and their prisoners taken ?" 
 
 " I rode neither forty miles, uor altogether at dead of 
 night," I replied. "I did report the intelligence you 
 speak of, and the consequences you have mentioned did 
 ensue." 
 
 " That's confessed," pronounced Chives. '' What's the 
 other charge ? — Berkley, did you take the paper? — ah ! " 
 
 At this juncture. Good, summoned by Peters, made his 
 appearance. He was called on to state as quickly as 
 possible aU that he knew about me. He stated at once 
 that I was a Miss Shaker, from Blue Hills, in Maryland ; 
 he entered into the history of my exploit at that quarter, 
 and finally announced my last offence — that I had car- 
 ried away several cannons, horses and aU, and had been 
 arrested for the same by his company. One of the same 
 company was called upon to support the statement. He 
 alleged that it was all true, that the lady had been run- 
 ning away with the cannon, and that she came so fast. 
 
336 EENSHA^\^. 
 
 that she smashed one gun all up on the road ; moreover, 
 when taken bv the soldiers, she had increased her crimes 
 by attempting to get off on one or both of the horses. 
 
 GoYernor Chives inquired what my errand had been 
 in the South. 
 
 ''Sir," said I, "my mother was ill at Charleston, and it 
 is now two weeks since I crossed the hues with the single 
 object of seeing her." 
 
 " Then why in the course of those two weeks are you 
 not at Charleston, instead of lingering about Richmond 
 and Suffolk?" 
 
 "I telegraphed to Charleston from Suffolk," said I, 
 received intelligence that my mother had left for the 
 North, and have been endeavoring to recross the lines." 
 
 "That's all very plausible," remarked Chives, "but 
 could you not have crossed the lines ^vithout taking six 
 of my guns with you?" 
 
 " Perhaps so," I replied, " if the guns had been labeled 
 K. G. C ; but they were marked U. S., and I concluded 
 that they were the property of the Government; therefore 
 it was only my duty to attemjDt their restoration to their 
 lawful owners. I regret that the attempt was more am- 
 bitious than successful." 
 
 "I dare say you do. Humph! Goodj had this enter- 
 prising damsel any package or papers about her?" 
 
 "She had this satchel," said Good, presenting that 
 article, which was laid on the table as so much contra- 
 band of war. Now the satchel was evidently empty, and 
 Good said he had found therein a hair-brush, a hat- 
 brush, a clothes-brush, and another brush, and he'd be 
 hanged if he could tell what that brush was for. 
 
 " Nothing but brushes in the bag ? " said the governor 
 impatiently. 
 
 "Only one thing of significance, sii': a ticket for a 
 trunk left at Richmond." 
 
PORT EVELYN. 337 
 
 " Where's tlie ticket ?" 
 
 " It is on its way to Kiclimond. I sent it by one of my 
 men, who is to examine the trunk and report the con- 
 tents." 
 
 "It was not worth while," said Chives indifferently- 
 "The case is plainly made out, eh Berkley? The girl is 
 here under an assumed name, and her deeds condemn 
 her." 
 
 Captain Whipplestaff here advanced with some spirit. 
 " I cwave permission to speak one word, Governah. This 
 young lady's name is Wenshawe, and her mothah has 
 been ill at Charleston. I met her at White Chimneys." 
 
 Chives replaced his eye glasses and eyed me keenly. 
 
 "Why were you officiating at Blue Hills under the 
 name of Shaker, Miss Eenshawe ? " 
 
 I denied that I had assumed any name but my own. 
 
 " Where do you belong ?" 
 
 " To the North — Long Island," I repeated, not a little 
 annoyed at this evidence that I was not beHeved. 
 
 "I know you belong to the North, young lady. I 
 mean by what particular division of the Northern army 
 have you been employed ?" 
 
 " By none." 
 
 " You deny, in the face of all our recent evidence, that 
 you are a spy ?" 
 
 " I do deny it, sir, emphatically, earnestly.' 
 
 This rej^ly was unheeded by the governor. Berkley was 
 speaking, and though what he said was lost on my ear, 
 it contributed much to Chives's amazement, who said, in 
 a tone of surprised interrogation, " On what grounds ?" 
 
 "As a personal favor," said Berkley, quite distinctly. 
 
 " Certainly," said the governor, immediately. " Cer- 
 tainly. Call in the next case." 
 
 " How about this " Good began. 
 
 " Judgment reserved," said Chives, hastily. " That is 
 to say, it is in Colonel Berkley's hands." 
 15 
 
338 RENSHAWE. 
 
 " Tou may relieve yourself of all further responsibility, 
 Captain Good," remarked Berkley. 
 
 Overpowering resentment swelled my whole heart. I 
 turned impulsively, recklessly toward the governor. 
 
 " Sir," said I, " if my hberty is at Colonel Berkley's dis- 
 posal, I would rather abide by — the alternative." 
 
 Chives had taken up the next paper. He measui-ed me 
 with a dehberate stare, then said, coolly: "Alternative? 
 There isn't any. Coi-poral, take away the lady, and go to 
 Colonel Berkley for your orders." 
 
 Plainly there was no appeal, and swallowing my over- 
 whelming wrath and chagrin, I followed the coi'poral 
 fi'om the apartment. "Where I was to go next was a mat- 
 ter seemingly unsettled. 
 
 " Is Colonel Berkley's prison anywhere near Governor 
 Chives's?" I inquired of my coniuctor, ''or is it ail one 
 establishment ?" 
 
 "All one consarn, I reckon," said the coi'poral; ''but 
 I see they're hevin' the rest on 'em at supper in the base- 
 ment. I didn't hev no orders agin yer hevin' supper. 
 Any how, ye can't get out of the house, and what to do 
 with ye " 
 
 The man was apparently so tipsy that he had hardly 
 intellect enough left to execute the orders he had received. 
 I was rejoiced beyond measui'e when Captain ^Vhipple- 
 staff appeared on the scene. He immediately professed 
 his regret at having met me in such a situation, and 
 asked anxiously what I was to do next. I said I did not 
 suppose that my own movements would be at my own 
 disposal. 
 
 " Well, now, the twuth is, IMiss Wenshawe," said the 
 captain, " 'tis an extwemely unfawtunate piece of busi- 
 ness. Extwemely unfawtunate, and if there was anything 
 I could do to ext^sicate you, I would do it with pleasui-e. 
 But you see, it was quite out of the question for me to 
 
rORT EVELYN. 339 
 
 know mucli about you, and the twuth was, I was so bewil- 
 dalid ! Those cannons have weally played the mischief, 
 *and though I of cawth will do aU I can for you, still I'm 
 not the colonel, and you must wely on the colonel as 
 your pwincipal ally." 
 
 "Captain "Whipplestaff," said I, indignantly, "I did not 
 ask to be Colonel Berkley's prisoner, nor shall I desire 
 him to act as my ally." 
 
 " Well, now. Miss Wenshawe, fact is you do need a 
 f wend, and though it's not my affiah, I think you'll be 
 very foolish to act so towards the colonel. You're not 
 supposed to be his pwisonah. Miss Wenshawe. He has 
 not even intimated that he wegards it in that light, and 
 if I were you, I should just waive all scwuples, and sink aU 
 pwide, and accept his assistance. Then the woad's cleah. 
 You may, of cawth, depend on my fwiendship, but I'm 
 not infwuential. Miss Wenshawe, and the colonel, he's 
 the weal king here. Governah Chives is wuled by him 
 altogethah. If he says bwack is white, the old man 
 swears to it. You're no moah the colonel's pwisonah 
 now than you were when you were bwought here. You 
 might at least see the colonel, I think." 
 
 "I suppose, of course," said I, surprised, "that the 
 colonel could see me if he chose it." 
 
 " Well, he doesn't seem to think so," replied Captain 
 Whipplestaff. 
 
 "Did he send you to find out?" I asked quickly. 
 
 " Just so. He wanted me to say to Miss Wenshawe 
 fwom him, that if she will accept his assistance he is 
 entirely at her service, and if you are willing to see him, 
 and he thinks it quite necessawy you should, I am to tell 
 him so. That is all." 
 
 This conversation had run on at some gi'eat length. I 
 was too wavering between my present distress and for- 
 mer indignation to give a more decided answer. Mr. 
 
340 RENSHAWE. 
 
 "Wliipplestaff stood by the bench whereon I sat, twisting 
 and tying a broken string of the harp, talking on as vol- 
 ubly as ever, when Colonel Berkley came through the 
 hall. He caught my eye as I looked up with a troubled, 
 nervous glance, and probably not thinking it worth while 
 to wait for the result of the captain's commission, he 
 came up to us du'ectly. I rose with a deference and hau- 
 teur by no means an impossible mixture, both in my 
 soul and my manner. I tried to speak, but utterance was 
 denied me, and I could only stand with trembhng nerves 
 and shortened breath, pulling at the string of my gipsy 
 hat till it broke. 
 
 " I trust you will pardon me," said Berkley, " for not 
 offering my services in person. Miss Renshawe, but we 
 have had important business on hand, and I am but just 
 ^t liberty. You have only to say in what way I can 
 assist you, and I will be happy to do so as far as hes in 
 my power." 
 
 " In any way you please," I repHed, repressing a decla- 
 ration that I would accept no favor at his hands. 
 
 " It will be impossible for me," he continued, " to give you 
 your liberty under a day or two, but until I can, you may 
 remain under this roof as a gTiest of Governor Chives, 
 if you will give me your promise that you will make no 
 attempt to escape, or to communicate with the enemy." 
 
 I was too fond of freedom not to yield to the tempt- 
 ing prospect of comparative libei-ty. I thought of the 
 mural solitude of the vestry-room, and slender chances 
 of escape. After a moment's hesitation, I replied, "I 
 am very grateful for your offer. Colonel Berkley. It is 
 more than I expected. My word is given. I will obey 
 the conditions." 
 
 "Come this way," was the immediate direction, and 
 rejoiced to be reheved from the exceptional din of the 
 haU, I followed my new conductor through the hall and 
 
PORT EYELYN. 341 
 
 up the stairs. The guards on the landing-place drew 
 back. Berkley stopped at an elegantly arched door of 
 the hall, waited till I dragged myself forward, and opened 
 it with the invitation, or rather command, "Take my 
 arm." 
 
 I obeyed, and was led within. It was the apartment 
 immediately over the trial-chamber, and, from its interior, 
 had been unmolested by the soldiery. It was lit by sev- 
 eral lamps, and tenanted by several ladies, all dressed in 
 evening costume, as though sojourning safely in a peace- 
 ful city. Berkley led me directly across the room to a 
 lady who was seated in an arm-chair by the fireplace. 
 She was encircled, and surrounded, and veiled by white 
 robes floating over the chair, and swept around on the 
 floor. The bracelets on her handsome arms were their 
 only ornaments, and her black hair was rolled away 
 from one of the most amiable faces I ever had looked 
 upon. As, in my soiled and disordered dress, and un- 
 regulated tresses, I came in contact with so much white 
 lace and satin, I felt that I looked forlorn enough." 
 
 "Mrs. Deschapples," said Berkley, " allow me to intro- 
 duce Miss Kenshawe. She remains under your charge 
 during her stay." 
 
 Mrs. Deschapples rose hastily, and poUtely bade me 
 welcome, then turned to my companion 
 
 " Be back by ten, my dear Berkley, if possible. Uncle 
 Chives will not allow us any supper till you come." 
 
 Berkley promised to be back if possible, and withdrew. 
 While I was answering Mrs. Deschapples's inquiries I was 
 suddenly speechless at sight of two very dark eyes across 
 the room regarding me with a sardonic expression. The 
 next moment my cousin i^lice was at my side. 
 
 " I am rejoiced to meet you, Mrs, Deschapples. This 
 young lady is my cousin, and for some time a fellow-trav- 
 eler. Come, my dear Louisa, hurry up stairs with me, 
 and get some decent clothes on.*' 
 
342 RENSHAWE. 
 
 Eelieved to find Alice in a spirit more amicable than 
 the mode of our last parting would promise, I followed 
 her from the room. Chives and the colonel were in close 
 conversation at the head of the stairs. The governor 
 glanced up at us as we passed. 
 
 "So that girl is out?" he said in a low tone. 
 
 " On parole," rejoined Berkley. 
 
 "Lord! does she know what it is ? Will she keep it?" 
 
 " Knows ? Yes," said the colonel. 
 
 " Well, perhaps so. A woman who unsexes herself so 
 far as to conduct horses and cannons about the coun- 
 try " 
 
 The rest of the speect I did not hear, nor did the be- 
 ginning promise enough for the end to cause any regret 
 for the loss. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXy. 
 
 IX WHICH THE HEEOINE MINGLES IN SOCIETY. 
 
 [Jlfj^ULTIFARIOUS were the questions that I put to 
 my cousin during my hurried toilette in the 
 di-essing-room above stairs. Alice had never 
 seemed so communicative in her life before. 
 
 I found that the house in which I was, was the prop- 
 erty of a noted Union man, of high consideration, at 
 Port Evelyn, who had gone North with his family, and 
 that at present it was used as a temporary arsenal for 
 arms that were coming in daily, through purchase and 
 otherwise. More than that, it had formerly been a head- 
 quarters of rebel spies and agents, attached to the interests, 
 or under the supervision of Governor Chives. Alice 
 informed me that Mrs. Deschapples was the widow of an 
 
' PORT EVELYN. 343 
 
 officer in tlie rebel service, who was a nephew of Chives 
 himself, and that she was sister to no less a person than 
 Mrs. Brancton, whom circumstances had given me so 
 much reason to remember, and that nearly every one of 
 the ladies I had seen below in the parlor, was in the 
 service of the rebel government. My cousin no longer 
 pretended to deny her ovni share in the predominant 
 fealty. 
 
 " And you are enlisted on the other side," said Alice, 
 significantly ; " only want of skill has made you unsuc- 
 cessful. My dear, when you have served your State as 
 long as I have mine, you won't attempt to take off a 
 whole battery, through a line of pickets." 
 
 I hastened to correct Alice's surmise immediately, and 
 explained the whole matter all through, in as few words 
 as possible. Alice listened attentively. She owned 
 Good was a thoroughly despicable being ; he had 
 deserted to the South, with nearly half his company. I 
 spoke of Good's rifling my property, left at Richmond, 
 and of the fact that the paper inspected by Gallorda, the 
 day of my encounter with him, was contained in the 
 trunk. Alice was thoroughly amazed at my carelessness, 
 and thought it would be a most unfortunate circumstance 
 for me if that paper were presented to Governor Chives. 
 
 " But you can tell him, Alice," said I, earnestly, " that 
 I am your cousin, and that I am really no spy, can you 
 not ?" 
 
 AUce shook her head. 
 
 " Why, Alice," I exclaimed, " you surely do not doubt 
 my assertions, do you ?" 
 
 " As your cousin," said Alice, gravely ; " as one who 
 knows you intimately, and loves you strongly, I may be- 
 lieve you ; but as an emissary of Governor Chives, and 
 his clique, acting in the service of the Southern govern- 
 ment, I cannot believe you. You must not feel hurt, 
 
844 RENSHAWE. 
 
 Louise ; my oath obliges me to distrust the angel 
 Gabriel." 
 
 " Then it is a very wicked oath that you have taken," 
 said I, hotly, " if you must turn against youi' own 
 relatives " 
 
 " Stay, my dear," said Alice, earnestly ; " when you 
 next see me in Washington, collecting all the informa- 
 tion I can, and traveling about to the Northern cities, 
 won't you consider it your duty, who are bound by no 
 oath, to inform the authorities ?" 
 
 " No, Alice, I am not more confident now, that you are 
 a Southern emissary, than , I was last March ;" and the 
 Black Eobin, in full council, rose vividly before my 
 mind. 
 
 "Well," said my cousin, "spies, after all, have little 
 love of country. A Northern lady, who knew my caUing 
 perfectly to be the same as her own, met me in Washing- 
 ton, was among my fi'iends there — she a spy for the 
 North, and I for the South ; but it was a mere matter of 
 merchandise with her. I would not betray her here. I 
 can conceive of a sister's love as scarcely greater than 
 that I have felt for Cassy and you ; therefore, I say I 
 would have seen you here, day after day, without endan- 
 gering you by a word, but when it comes to going before 
 Chives, and saving on my own responsibihty, that it 
 would be safe to trust you, I say the act would be perjury, 
 because I do know cii'cumstances that tell against you. 
 I see you have a great deal of nerve, and a gi^eat deal of 
 spirit — proper quahties for pubhc service — and as for 
 your denial, that is a matter of course. All spies will 
 deny theii' character." 
 
 " I would never embark in a profession that exacts 
 such a sacrifice of principle," said I. 
 
 " I know," said Alice, demurely, " you are better than 
 I; you always were. I didn't join the church, and you 
 
^ PORT EVELYN. 345 
 
 did, and the Kev. Mr. Aldovine said you were his most 
 promising subject in the confirmation class " 
 
 " Never mind," I interrupted ; " I don't altogether 
 fancy your way of drawling distinctions. Give me some 
 idea when Good will be coming with the papers, that I 
 may prepare for my fate." 
 
 " Oh, the paper I had forgotten. Well, the best advice 
 I can give you, is to make your escape as soon as 
 possible." 
 
 " That's not possible ; I am on parole." 
 
 " Parole ! who offered you that, Chives ?" 
 
 " Colonel Berkley." 
 
 "You need give yourself no uneasiness, then. If 
 Berkley takes your part. Good cannot injure you, if he 
 came with a trunk full of papers." 
 
 " But will not the appearance of the paper, influence 
 Colonel Berkley against me?" 
 
 " My advice, all I can do for you," said AHce, " can be 
 soon given. Just take the first opportunity of speaking 
 to Colonel Berkley — to-night if it offers, if not, request 
 an interview with him in the morning. Lay the case 
 plainly before him, and it will all be provided for." 
 
 " Has he so much influence with the governor ?" 
 
 " Influence ! Berkley holds the sway here altogether. 
 Oh, yes ; Chives consults with him, and appeals to him 
 in everything. Mis. Deschapples is in love with him, in 
 the first place." 
 
 " How do you know it ?" 
 
 " In the same way that anybody knows it. You'll see 
 it yourself in a day or two. I don't know that her heart 
 is very much involved, but she is a terribly ambitious 
 woman, and Berkley is rising fast. His name is already 
 before the government for promotion to a generalship. 
 The governor is attached to him for many reasons. He 
 is a strange man, the governor — timid on some occasions 
 
346 RENSHAWE. 
 
 and brave on others. He is never afraid of open foes, 
 but always shrinks from concealed dangers. He never 
 comes to the supper-table, except in company with Col- 
 onel Berkley, that he may be sui'e the wine is not 
 poisoned." 
 
 As we were just then summoned to supper, I had no 
 time to inquii'e how the mere fact of Berkley's company 
 should guarantee the innocuous character of the wine, 
 and could only account for it by the supposition that the 
 colonel was too generally beloved to be so endangered. 
 Neither Chives nor Berkley appeared at the table, at 
 which we were all comfortably seated by ten o'clock at 
 night. The male portion of the community was repre- 
 sented by two clerks of the governor's menage, and with 
 this exception, a board twelve feet long was surrounded 
 by females, from whose faces it was in several instances 
 hard to believe they belonged to the honorable fraternity 
 for which theii' manners and morals apparently unfitted 
 them. In these instances my heai't inclined me to form ex- 
 ceptions ; and I afterwards found I had singled out as inno- 
 cent the very ones who were most skilled in their art. I 
 marked their faces, but, with one or two exceptions, I never 
 saw any of them again, and was content with a vague recol- 
 lection of them as spies in blue, spies in white, spies in 
 silk, satin, and spangles ; spies in velvet caps, and Scotch 
 plaids, with ornaments scanty as was judicious, inter- 
 spersed here and there. 
 
 After supper I had a conversation with Mrs. Deschap- 
 ples, in which both talked over family affafrs to that 
 extent in which people frequently indulge, when thrown 
 together under circumstances so well calculated to pro- 
 mote acquaintanceship. I found she knew nearly every 
 lady I could mention. Of Mrs. Brancton, she spoke at 
 length, mentioning her in those terms of sorrowful 
 affection with which one sister might speak of another 
 
PORT EVELYN. 847 
 
 whose conduct had formed a prolific source of regret for 
 her whole family. 
 
 The clerks had left the party immediately after supper, 
 and the ladies solaced themselves by books, conversation, 
 and cards, not to speak of six who circled a table for 
 forty minutes, in the vain attempt to get up spiiitual 
 rappings, until twelve o'clock, when the party broke up. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVn. 
 
 ITH the first horn that sounded at early day- 
 1^1 break I was awake, to find that several of the 
 companions of my extensive sleeping apartment 
 were astir, as some of them had errands that took them 
 away by sunrise, and I hastened to dress before the rest 
 were up. Alice was among the departing number, and 
 before she left, she asked if I still intended to lay my case 
 before Berkley. 
 
 I said yes, though I dreaded the interview greatlj' and 
 intended to defer it as long as possible. Ahce charged 
 me not to be so foohsh, but to anticipate Good at once ; 
 the disagreeable task could take but a short time, and 
 would not grow more agreeable by delay. One favor, 
 however, she vdshed to ask ; this was, that I would not 
 mention to Chives, to Berkley, or to anybody else, that I 
 had crossed the lines in her comj)any, unless I found it 
 absolutely necessary to my safety to proclaim it. I gave 
 the promise and we parted. 
 
 On coming below, I asked the first soldier I saw, if he 
 knew where Colonel Berkley was, and I was referred to 
 the room that had been the scene of my trial on the 
 previous evening, for the gentleman of whom I was in 
 
348 EENSHAWE. 
 
 quest. To this apartment I immediately repaired. It 
 presented an appearance more dilapidated and desolated 
 by the dawning day than it had by candle-light. One 
 clerk was wi'iting at the same table, made fi'om the pier 
 glass, but it had been moved to the other side of the 
 fireplace, and the tattered red window curtains were 
 pulled together and secured with a case-knife. A couple 
 of huge dogs lay on the floor, and the shadow of a 
 horse's head fi*equently threw a deeper shade on the red 
 curtain, as several animals were feeding just outside the 
 window. A second clerk lay fast asleep on three chairs, 
 his place at the table being occupied by Berkley, who was 
 looking over several papers, making an occasional correc- 
 tion with a pen, under the flickering rays of a lamp just 
 fading in the daylight. I knocked at the open door and 
 was bidden to come in, by the clerk, who, on my com- 
 pliance, desired me to be seated, and inquired civilly 
 whether I wished to see Grovernor Chives. I said feebly 
 that I wished to see Colonel Berkley. 
 
 " I will be at leisure in a moment," said Berkley. 
 
 How any man could collect his thoughts in such a din 
 as that which rose incessantly in the courtyard, was a 
 matter of surprise to me. Under the window it grew 
 tremendous. 
 
 " Bring up the sorrel ; fetch up the bay ; trot out the 
 black ;" hallowed some Stentor, while a small avalanche 
 of grain roUed out of a sack, and the quadrupeds were 
 forced to back do^Ti. 
 
 " What is going on out there ?" asked Berkley, of the 
 clerk. 
 
 " It's the ladies' horses, sir ; they feed them here be- 
 cause the piano fi-ame was thrown down close to the 
 house, and it's a good trough for the oats." 
 
 This explanation seemed to satisfy Berkley, though I 
 fancied that in the voice of the speaker I could detect a 
 
PORT EVELYN. 349 
 
 little compunction for the instance of wanton destmction 
 he mentioned. It made my own heart swell with indig- 
 nation as I remembered how recently this very ground 
 had been occupied by the troops of the United States, 
 and this property respected. One of the young ladies 
 came in at this juncture, habited for her expedition. 
 
 Berkley gave her several papers, and some directions, 
 uttered in a low and confidential tone, occupied consider- 
 able time. 
 
 In the meantime I measured the damsel with critical 
 eyes. She wasn't going on horseback. She wore a huge 
 circular, of red and black plaid, a long feather in her 
 black jockey cap, sharp angular face, curls multitudinous 
 hanging over her back. Who was she Uke ? I thought 
 of IVIrs. Rafferty's cousin, in the "Absentee," Miss Juliana 
 O'Leary, " very ihgant," and of Miss Glorvina O'Dowd in 
 " Vanity Fair." This young lady had no name that I heard, 
 however. Berkley confined himself simply to the per- 
 sonal pronoun during the dialogue. 
 
 She had gone at last, and the colonel pushed aside the 
 papers and moved around facing me, with an air that 
 expressed his readiness to listen to me. 
 
 I felt reluctant to speak before the clerk, not that I 
 had anything to say that made secrecy imperative, but it 
 was hard enough to discourse with Berkley, without 
 being fettered by witnesses. I began my declaration 
 by saying, that he had akeady been so kind to me, and I 
 was so very grateful that I — in short, that he had inter- 
 ested himself so unexpectedly and so generously, that it 
 was impossible for me to be able to say — that reaUy he 
 had been so exceedingly kind 
 
 Here I stopped short, tried to collect my thoughts, 
 and began again. Berkley listened in calmness to 
 another speech, in which, I came no nearer the object 
 than before ; and ended, to my vexation, in the same 
 
350 EENSHAWE. 
 
 assurance, that he had been very kind. My auditor 
 bowed in manifestation that that point was sufficiently 
 luminous, and I came to a dead stop. 
 
 The clerk at the table, looked around. 
 
 " Sappers' and miners' musketoons ?" 
 
 " Twelve," said Berkley; " stay, several were worthless ; 
 you may go down and inquire." 
 
 Before he had reached the door, the colonel added : 
 
 " Stop in the governor's room and bring me the min- 
 utes of iMiss Renshawe's examination." 
 
 The clerk withdrew, and I proceeded without further 
 preamble. 
 
 "If you recollect, Colonel Berkley, I have an enemy 
 here, in Captain Good. He accused me of being a spy, 
 and informed Governor Chives that he would prove it. 
 I came in this morning to ask you about that." 
 
 " You are entii-ely beyond reach of Captain Good's 
 enmity, ^liss Renshawe," said Berkley. 
 
 " But he has told Governor Chives," said I, " that he 
 intends sending for my baggage to Richmond. Now 
 when it comes here, as it will in the coui'se of this 
 day, what will Governor Chives think about it^" 
 
 "His most natural reflection," repHed Berkley, "will 
 be, that Captain Good has taken a gi-eat deal of trouble.*' 
 
 The gi'eat question that presented itself to cause emo- 
 tion in the next declaration, and one which had not 
 occurred till now, was whether Berkley would lend to my 
 unsupported assertions the credit they deserved. I went 
 on with a steady voice, though my face betrayed no httle 
 excitement, to say that unfortunately Captain Good would 
 find himself armed with a circumstance, in seciu'ing my 
 baggage, strongly in favor of his charges. I had declared 
 to Governor Chives, the night before, that I was not a 
 spy, nor had ever acted as such ; but that there was a 
 paper in my trunk, fi'om which Governor Chives would 
 
rOKT EVELYN. 351 
 
 certainly infer that I had served the United States in 
 that character. Berkley was silent for some minutes. 
 Never had I so longed for an answer. Just at that moment 
 another young female entered, equipped for traveling, 
 and the colonel and she stood by the table for full fifteen 
 minutes talking over papers, and distances, and cities, 
 while I remained in suspense. This girl was quite 
 pretty, had an intelligent and pleasant face, and wore 
 an unobtrusive, modest-looking dress. I saw directly 
 that she was quite lost in admiration of Berkley, for she 
 asked twice as many questions as were necessary, simply 
 for the pleasure of hstening to his replies. My heart 
 was beating painfully high with suspense, before the door 
 had closed after her. Berkley had scarcely recrossed the 
 room and resumed his seat, when the door opened and 
 the same female looked in. 
 
 " What's the password. Colonel Berkley ?" 
 
 "Manassas Gap." 
 
 " The same as yesterday ?" 
 
 " No ; yesterday it was Manassas Junction." 
 
 "Thank you ; good morning," and she was gone. 
 Troubled as I was, I could not help wondering why in 
 the world she could not have asked somebody outside ; 
 there were plenty of people in the hall, and about the 
 house. My turn had come again. Berkley's first 
 question was a rehef. 
 
 " Is the paper you mention, a plan of our fortifications, 
 or any sort of a journal in the political Hne ?" 
 
 " It was only a letter." 
 
 " How came it in your possession ?" 
 
 In answer to so natural an inquiry, I made haste to 
 give ample explanation. Withholding only Mi'S. Jones's 
 name, I rehearsed her oJBfers to me, mentioning that the 
 whole idea of my undertaking such a mission, had 
 originated with her ; stating the natui'e of the contents 
 
352 RENSHAWE. 
 
 of the document, and that neglect on my part had pre- 
 vented its destruction. In this elucidation, I hoped 
 Colonel Berkley would understand that the United States 
 were not to be considered as having furnished me with 
 authority. 
 
 " Your artillery movement, the other day, was all on 
 your own responsibility, then ?" he inquired. 
 
 " Certainly," said I. " I have no wish to deny my 
 readiness to serve the United States." 
 
 " That readiness," said Berkley, " we would not object 
 to, if displayed on the other side of the border, in a lint 
 association or a hospital; but your manner of evincing it 
 here, though highly novel, is not exactly to our taste." 
 
 " I am not a spy. Colonel Berkley, either on my own 
 authority or that of the government," I uttered these 
 words with spii'it. 
 
 At that juncture the clerk returned, and handed a 
 slip of paper to Berkley, before resuming his seat. I 
 trembled for the issue. Berkley's eye ran over the 
 record of my examination line; by line then came the 
 very inquiry I had dreaded. 
 
 "Why did you not telegi'aph to your mother from 
 Eichmond, instead of from Suffolk ?" 
 
 How could I explain, without saying that I feared 
 Alice's representations to my injury, and then I must 
 add that she crossed the lines with me. 
 
 "Colonel Berkley," I replied, "I could answer you 
 satisfactorily, and if you see fit to insist upon it, I will, 
 but I shall very much regret the necessity, and I would 
 rather tell you, simply, that I had a reason for that 
 coui'se, without explaining what it was." 
 
 My voice had grown fairly inarticulate with emotion, 
 before this sentence was complete. 
 
 " Very well," said Berkley, " you may make youi' mind 
 easy on this matter. I'll put a stopper on Good, and if 
 
PORT EVELYN. 853 
 
 you get into any further trouble, you may send for 
 me." 
 
 I thanked the colonel, avoiding with some difficulty 
 another declaration, that he was very kind, and quitted 
 the room. In one thing I had been agreeably dis- 
 appointed. Not by word or look had Berkley manifested 
 the shghtest doubt of what I alleged my position to be. 
 I was painfully aware that my statements had an im- 
 probable sound; yet Berkley had accepted them with 
 impHcit faith within the very walls where accused were 
 judged with little mercy, and where no one could re- 
 proach him for leaving me to a fate for which my actions 
 had offered seeming justification. 
 
 I breakfasted alone with Mrs. Deschapples. As for 
 the rest of the ladies, many of them had gone before 
 that hour; and the others were to depart later in the 
 day. After breakfast some time was spent in conversa- 
 tion, which lasted very late, and was at last interrupted 
 by a message ft'om the governor, requesting to see his 
 niece below. 
 
 ]Mi*s. Deschapples did not return, but I was not incon- 
 solable, as both the house and its inmates furnished sub- 
 jects for observation, which I was not loth to exercise. 
 
 The day was one unusually warm for the season. The 
 sands of the coasts were hot, the earth seemed parched, 
 and the twigs of the trees snapped with a brittle di-yness. 
 The air above was unrefreshed by a single cloud, and the 
 hills, clothed in many colored fohage from base to summit, 
 afforded not a single breeze to the arid fields below. 
 Anxiety was afloat the whole day at Port E\elyn. Kein- 
 forcements exiDCcted had not arrived. Scouts had been 
 kept all day on the watch, and it was reported that Col- 
 onel Berkley had been up four times, on top of the 
 houses with a telescope, and each time had come down, 
 looking no better pleased than when he went up. 
 
354 RENSHAWE 
 
 On one of these occasions I had ocnlar and auricular 
 proof. Colonel Berkley had just descended when Chives 
 met him in the gallery. 
 
 "It's the most useless thing in the world, Berkley, to 
 look for people that don't come." 
 
 "It's a very natui-al thing, sir," rejoined the colonel. 
 
 These to me were indications plain enough that help 
 was needed, and I did not note them with regret. I had 
 already looked with jealous eyes on the stacks of 
 muskets, pyramidal piles of balls, and field-guns, includ- 
 ing the six pieces captured with me, that filled the yard 
 to the utmost capacity. My ear was vexed, in passing 
 the doors of the corner room, to hear the incessant rat- 
 tle of papers, and refrain in the reader's voice, — " pounds 
 of shot" — "kegs of powder" — "cases of muskets" — 
 "cartridges" — as the invoices were repeated and cor- 
 rected. I had not seen Berkley since the morning, and 
 being very tired of the house, I strolled out for a walk. 
 ^The sentinel was talking to a man at the gate, and I was 
 going quietly through, when a bayonet was thrust sud- 
 denly in front of me, to the great peril of my shawl, and 
 a voice demanded : " Pass-word, ma'am, give the pass- 
 word." 
 
 It was the same soldier who had acted as my guard on 
 the previous evening. I stated that I knew the pass- 
 word, and asked to go on. 
 
 " My orders is, not to let no one pass athout they sajs 
 it, ma'am," rej)lied the soldier. 
 
 " Manassas Gap," said I. The soldier at once swung 
 back the gate and permitted my exit. 
 
 I fluctuated, at first, between the wood and the river ; 
 the heat of the day decided me in favor of the fii'st, and 
 I was soon in the cool shade of the forest, though not 
 out of sight of my prison walls. I could plainly discern 
 the figures at the windows, on the roof and balconies, 
 
PORT EVELYN. ^^"^ 
 
 and the lounging soldiers lazily smoking in the yard. I 
 seated myself on a low bank overgrown with moss, where 
 I gave myself up to a consideration of the vicissitudes 
 that had marked the last days o£ my eventful career. 
 A rustle close in the thicket startled me. I sprang up 
 and was about running back as fast asm fears could impel 
 me, when a low voice with the words "Miss Renshawe" 
 arrested me. As I looked around, a man emerged from 
 the bushes whom I at once recognized as the zouave 
 EHsha. 
 
 "How in the world came you here !" I exclaimed. "If 
 you were to be seen from the house you would be cap- 
 tured by the rebels. The country is full of them. Fly !" 
 " Kentry's full o' suthin else," said EHsha dehberately, 
 " as well as rebels. I'm out a-scoutin. Miss Renshawe. 
 I've jined a new rigiment and got a new colonel." 
 " You came here purposely then," said I. 
 « To be sure, I did. My rigiment's not very far fi'om 
 here; I expect to get back afore a gi^eat whHe. What's 
 they got up there under that great spread o' white can- 
 vas ? Needn't be kiveren' up so karful— won't keep it long." 
 I looked back at the building. The canvas of several 
 tents had been stretched across the gun carriages, which 
 were thus effectually concealed. 
 
 " Needn't tell — I know," said Elisha sententiously ; " I 
 seed they wus guns afore they got 'em blanketed. Seems 
 to me it's a cussed shm set o' men they got to take care 
 of so much ammunition." 
 
 "They are expecting reinforcements to-day," said I. 
 EHsha laughed. Just then I caught sight of a figure 
 in a uniform at the edge of the wood. EHsha immediate- 
 ly disappeared in the thicket. The soldier advanced 
 looking hard at the bushes, but the scout was gone. 
 
 " The colonel sent me to look for you, ma'am," said the 
 soldier, suspiciously, as though he thought it an advisable 
 
356 RENSHAWE. 
 
 measure on the part of the colonel. The guard wore a 
 peculiarly troubled look as I passed the gate." 
 
 "If you i^lease, ma'am," said he, "would you be kind 
 enough to mention to the colonel, ma'am, that you gave 
 me the pass- word ?" 
 
 " Certainly," said I; " I hope you do not apprehend any 
 blame from the colonel ?" 
 
 " Lord bless you, ma'am !" said the poor fellow, quite 
 disturbed, "I don't know what minute I'll get shot 
 ma'am. It's only last night, ma'am, the colonel hauled 
 me over the coals, like a thousand of brick for leaving you 
 while I got my supper. I tole him, says I, 'I left the 
 young lady a-talkin' to Cap'n ^Tiipplestaff, an' I knowed 
 the gates wus all guarded, an' she couldn't got away;' but 
 didn't make no dijfference about that, ma'am." 
 
 ""V\Tiy," said I, "the colonel paroled me last evening." 
 " I know, ma'am, an' it was after he paroled you that he 
 gave me the blowin' up. He said it' was a first offence, 
 so he'd pass it over; but I wusn't to leave a prisoner 
 again if it was with President Davis ; and now I've let 
 you through the gates, ma'am, when I hadn't orter, and 
 I'll get shot as sure as guns, ma'am, unless you'll have 
 the condescension, ma'am, to mention about the pass- 
 word; if they asks and if they doesn't ask it's no matter." 
 I went in with many forebodings. Just inside the hall, 
 was the Governor. Instantly came the question ; " Madam, 
 who fui'nished you the pass-word ?" 
 
 " I heard it this morning, sii', from Colonel Berkley." 
 " He gave it to you, did he ?" 
 
 "No sir — I was talking to him this morning in the 
 room where the secretaries were, and one of the spies 
 came in and asked the password." 
 '' Spies r 
 
 I had not intended to say * spies,' but the thought in 
 my heai^t had escaped my hps unawares. 
 
rORT EVELYN- 357 
 
 " One of the young ladies, sir," I added in no little 
 confusion. " Slie inquired tlie pass-word, and Colonel 
 Berkley said Manassas Gap." 
 
 " It was not the clerk who said it ?" 
 
 " No sir— he had gone out. Colonel Berkley had just 
 sent him out to see about the sappers and miners' 
 musketoons." 
 
 Chives muttered something sounding hke "sappers 
 and miners' devil;" but as the questions were apparently 
 ended, I moved away to the balconies, where I gave a 
 smiling incHnation on catching the eye of the guard, 
 who received it with a stohd face, and reassured soul. 
 "When I came back, the Governor and Colonel Berkley 
 were just at the foot of the circular stairs, leading off 
 from the stone floor of the haU. I was forced to hear 
 a few words before I could get theu' attention, or pass to 
 the staircase. Chives was speaking: "You can't expect 
 a woman to know what a parole is, Berkley." 
 
 "It's of very little consequence," said Berkley, in a 
 nonchalant tone, "whether she knows or not." 
 
 "My dear feUow," said the governor, "Good has just 
 handed me a paper found in her trunk at Kichmond, 
 clothing her with authority to act as a spy for the United 
 
 States." 
 
 Chives took out his pocket-book, and submitted the 
 
 document to Berkley. 
 
 "There's no proof that the proposal was accepted," 
 replied Berkley, taking possession of the paper. " At all 
 events, she has not the power to harm us, only the dispo- 
 sition." 
 
 "A most infernal disposition, if one may judge by 
 her eyes," said Chives, with a shrug of the shoulders. 
 
 " Yes ; a very bad eye," rephed Berkley. 
 
 The governor shook his head, remarked that they 
 could not be too careful, and went to the door to inspect 
 
358 RENSHAWR 
 
 the cause of some new uproar without. As Berkley was 
 unfolding my credentials, I attempted to pass ' him un- 
 noticed, but in vain ; I was seen. 
 
 "Miss Renshawe, where have you been?" 
 I said I had been taking a short walk in the woods. 
 "I want you to keep within doors." 
 The tone was one of severity. I answered submissively 
 that I would obey, and went above-stairs. At the first 
 circle of the spii'al flight, I stopped, wondering whether 
 I ought not to say something to him about the innocence 
 of the sentinel, when Berkley signaled a soldier going 
 through the haU, and said to him : 
 
 " "Who was it that I sent out in search of that young 
 lady just now ?" 
 
 "One of Good's men, sir. I don't know his name." 
 "Find him, and send him to me in the basement." 
 I had akeady half formed a resolve to disclose to 
 Berkley my recent meeting with Ehsha, had hesi- 
 tated in the fear of imperiling the safety of the zouave, 
 and had thought it well to take time for consideration. 
 But it was now too late for that measure, had I decided 
 on it, as Berkley was investigating matters for himself, 
 and probably would not value any gratuitous information 
 on my part. Besides, I concluded it was not my duty to 
 give it, and should he send for me I would adhere in a 
 general way to the statement that I had abided by the 
 terms of my parole, without revealing the recent presence 
 of a scout at the camp. 
 
 But no summons came. I was quite alone for what 
 remained of daylight, and through the atmosphere, that 
 seemed to smoke with the imusual drought, watched the 
 shadow of the low mountains on the river's eastern 
 bank rounding up toward the north upon the waters, 
 and amused myself in fixing the angle it would reach 
 before its disappearance in the darkness. 
 
PORT EVELYN. 359 
 
 Night came at last; I saw the sun go down among the 
 pines, and the shadows, all the shadows descended 
 sombre and heavy on the hills, with their vast forests and 
 the plains lying on the southern slope, so di-eary in their 
 desolation. The sheeted cannons below the window 
 were scarcely visible in the gloom, and nothing was 
 distinguishable aside from the movements of the horses, 
 the gleam of the dim lights about the courtyard, and 
 the clang of a gate with the return or exit of a scout. 
 " I want you to keep within doors." 
 I uttered these words aloud, only to rid my mind of 
 them, for they had formed the undertide of my thoughts 
 since they were spoken. Such a needless rebuke, and I 
 had not deserved it. Whose fault was it that I knew the 
 pass-word ? 
 
 A knocking at the door of the room had been protract- 
 ed for some time, before it attracted my attention. Mrs. 
 Deschapples was there. 
 
 " All dark — and the door fast. I thought I heard you 
 talking?" 
 
 " Only to myself, and only one sentence." 
 " Well, my dear, I would not advise you to talk much 
 to yourself on these premises, especially if sad thoughts 
 are predominant." 
 
 " You seem sad yourself," I remarked. 
 " I frankly confess, my dear Miss Eenshawe, that no 
 one here is in good spirits to-night. We have expected 
 Colonel Berkley's regiment to-day, in charge of Major 
 Davis, and it has not come. My uncle is deeply troubled, 
 for though we are many miles from the enemy, still 
 dangers may surround us too suddenly to be averted. 
 This place is held only by one company of men, and a 
 small force under Captain Good lately deserted from the 
 enemy." 
 
 After a little discussion of the dehnquent reinforce- 
 
360 EENSHAWE. 
 
 ments, Mrs. Deschapples informed me that she and I 
 were the only ladies remaining in the house, all the 
 emissaries having gone during the day. 
 
 " My uncle wants us to join him at supper," proceeded 
 my companion, " and I have come for you." 
 
 " You must be mistaken," said I, quite astonished. 
 "I think I am the last person under this roof whom 
 Governor Chives would be at all Hkely to invite." 
 
 "He said explicitly, 'ask IMiss Eenshawe to do me 
 that honor' — there was no mistake, my dear, I assure 
 you." 
 
 I experienced quite a sensation of relief; but was still 
 a httle dubious of my reception, and did not cease to 
 wonder at the meaning of the invitation, while following 
 Mrs. Deschapples through a labyi^inth of muskets in the 
 hall, to the room below, in which I had sat among the 
 transient company of females the evening before. There 
 was a small table set with covers for four. Chives was 
 awaiting us. One attendant stood a little back. 
 
 "You are Alice Ludlow's cousin," said the governor, 
 stopping me at the door. I acknowledged the relation- 
 ship. "So Alice told my niece this morning." 
 
 "Does that fact weigh in my favor ?" I asked. 
 
 " Certainly — the blackest abolitionist that Satan ever 
 dyed, would look a little whiter for it. There's a truce 
 between us, IVIiss Eenshawe. I won't answer for anybody 
 else, but we'll waive the cannons and the exploit at Blue 
 Hills, as far as we are concerned." During this speech 
 the governor had gathered up my hand, and led me 
 across the room, where I was bidden to take my place 
 op230site Mi's. Deschapples, while he seated himself at 
 the head of the table; which was spread with a frugal 
 repast of cold meat, stale bread and melons. After these 
 few words of welcome, Cliives's brow grew very overcast 
 again, and seemingly he forgot all about me. One place 
 was still vacant. 
 
rORT EYELYN. 861 
 
 "Stop, Dan," no more coals on that fire — put up a 
 screen, and then call Colonel Berkley. He'll come; he's 
 had no dinner." 
 
 The doors were closed on the colonel's appearance. 
 We were a very quiet party. Berkley was more pre-oc- 
 cupied than I had ever known him. He finished his 
 supper nearly as soon as the rest had begun, — from which, 
 as it consisted of two or three morsels, I judged his mind 
 was suffering under some unusual weight; in answer to 
 Mrs. Deschapples's inquiries, said that he was quite well 
 but not hungTy, and devoted himself to the New York- 
 papers, that had been brought in. Chives, who sat op- 
 posite his colleague, looked gloomy as the grave. 
 
 Mrs. Deschapples made an inquiry that had occurred 
 several times to me. " Uncle, what would you do if the 
 enemy came ?" 
 
 " Ask Colonel Berkley," said Chives, drily. " Berkley, 
 what would you do, in God's name ?" 
 
 « Fortify." 
 
 Chives uttered an impatient ejaculation. 
 
 " What could be done, uncle ?" demanded his niece. 
 
 "Nothing, child, nothing — we are unprotected." 
 
 After this declaration of defencelessness, there was 
 another long pause. Chives cut across three melons, 
 which Dan carried away successively — a fourth was 
 quartered and distributed. Chives looked up from under 
 his clouded brows, and spoke at last. 
 
 " When was the last scout in from Massanoonga, 
 Berkley?" 
 
 "At seven o'clock." 
 
 " And no one from Coal Kiver Marshes, yet ?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 Some more silence, during which Chives gave occasional 
 intimation of his uneasiness, by a shake of the head and 
 low-toned surmises. It was not long before he spoke 
 again. 
 
362 EENSHAWE. 
 
 " Something's the matter at Coal Eiver Marshes, 
 Berkley. Adams is always on time. Haven't heard 
 from there since sunset, have we ?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Why don't you station some one nearer to us," said 
 Mrs. Deschapples, "to provide for a sui'prise." 
 
 "Lord bless you, child," said her uncle, "some one 
 been stationed this hour ; all we could spare, eh Berkley ?" 
 
 " AMiipplestaft' is down at Mount Boon with a corporal's 
 ^"lard," replied the colonel. "He reports every ten 
 minutes." 
 
 "Why didn't you send Good?" asked the governor. 
 
 " Can't trust him." 
 
 "Well, you're right; he's an infernal Yankee," Chives 
 responded. 
 
 Again we were a silent quartette. A soldier stopped 
 at the open door. Chives showed of what he had been 
 thinking, by exclaiming : " Here he is now." 
 
 " Well, Adams?" said Berkley. 
 
 "All right." Adams reported nothing stirring at Coal 
 Eiver Marshes — the village was peaceful. He had been 
 delayed by a bridge, and was once lost in the woods. 
 After this ample exj^lanation had been given, Adams was 
 dismissed to his own supper below. 
 
 The air of uneasiness disappeared fi'om the face of the 
 party. Chives and his niece conversed on difierent 
 topics, and Berkley still leaned over the newspapers 
 silent and motionless. 
 
 It was eight o'clock, as 'Mrs. Deschapples had just 
 announced to the company, when the door was suddenly 
 opened by one of the soldiers. 
 
 "Colonel Berkley," said he, "there's a lady below 
 insists on seeing you. She has ridden all the way from 
 Massanoonga, and her horse is nearly killed." 
 
 Before any one could stii* or speak, there came a sudden 
 
rOIlT E\TELYN. 363 
 
 rush along the hall, and a lady in a long riding habit, 
 bedi-aggled with mud, dashed into the room; throwing 
 back the veil from her black crape cap, and reveahng a 
 face deadly pale with excitement. 
 
 " Colonel Berkley— Colonel Berkley— gentlemen," she 
 gasped, " you are all betrayed. A Federal force is on 
 the way fi'om Massanoonga, to take Port Evelyn to-night. 
 
 It was Mrs. Lionel Hervey. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVm. 
 
 OLONEL BERKLEY directed the soldier to 
 :^ close the door — then he assisted IVIrs. Hervey to 
 a chair, just vacated at the table. Mrs. Des- 
 chapples removed the veil from her ghastly face, while 
 Chives groped among the decanters at the table, pouring 
 wine with one hand and water with the other. 
 
 " Oh Lord!" groaned he, "I thought this would be the 
 end of it. I've been expecting it all day. I told you so, 
 Berkley, I told you of it." 
 
 Berkley was giving some undertoned directions to the 
 soldiers, among which I distinguished: "Take the 
 horse saddled under the walnut tree by the howitzers, 
 ride to Mount Boon, and tell Captain T^Hiipplestaff to go 
 down to the river and wait. I'll send a boat for him, and 
 say to Gedney to get ready horses for six." 
 
 The soldier went out, and Chives went on : "I told you 
 of it; I warned you. Now then, young man, it's your 
 time to fortify." 
 
 " Fortify," cried Mrs. Hervey, "you can't." She started 
 up excitedly. " You must not dream of defence. You 
 can but just escape with your lives — your life." And she 
 looked up at Berkley with an air, that made this appeal 
 quite particular. 
 
864 eensha^t:. 
 
 "Life!" echoed Berkley, " Nonsense ! what's my life 
 comj^ared to all this ammunition ?" He walked oK 
 
 " Exactly," said Chives; " what a haul for them ; all 
 these field-pieces. When did you leave Massanoonga, 
 ]\Ii'S. Hervey?" 
 
 " About one horn- since. For Heaven's, sake don't stop 
 to ask me questions now. That troop of soldiers cannot 
 be more than one hour later." 
 
 " How many strong ?" 
 
 "I do not know, but they think you have a thousand 
 men here, and say they have enough to capture all." 
 
 "We might have held the place against a legion. 
 Berkley, go up to the roof, and see if Davis is coming. 
 Blast Davis ! — he's a traitor." 
 
 "Xo matter about that, my dear uncle," said 'Mrs. 
 Deschapples, "Mrs. Hervey tells you you have no time 
 for that. Leave the ammunition and make your 
 escape!" 
 
 "Eight miles," said Chives reflectively, "nearer nine. 
 Berkley, where the devil has he gone ! Oh there you are; 
 Lord help us I studying a chart ! Lord he's gone crazy. 
 "WTiat the deuce is he doing now — Berkley!" 
 
 Berkley had just opened the window, looked out, and 
 turned back to the company at this appeal 
 
 "I was trying to find out which way the wind is. Did 
 you notice, ]\L.\ Hervey ?" 
 
 " Li my face all the way." 
 
 " You came through the woods ?" 
 
 " I did." 
 
 " Eight miles," Chives repeated, as the colonel disap- 
 peared, "^and a slow march across the hills in the dark. 
 They won't get here in two hours from now, gi-anting 
 they left Massanoonga when you did. "Well, we must 
 get ready for them in some way — do all we can with an 
 untenable post. What do you want here, Scott ?" 
 
PORT EVELYN. 365 
 
 " I came to tell Colonel Berkley the liorses were ready?" 
 
 " Colonel Berkley ! He's not here. Gone out to see 
 w hich way the wind is, I suppose. You may look for him 
 r^ the weathercock." 
 
 Berldey came in. " All in the saddle, Scott ;" and he 
 took his overcoat from the wall. 
 
 " So, colonel, you've made up your mind to run," said 
 Chives. 
 
 "Eun?" 
 
 " Certainly; nothing for us to do on the face of God's 
 footstool but run. I'm going to run and take the ladies, 
 and you're going first, it seems." 
 
 " Now, then, governor," said Berkley, heedless of this 
 reflection, " I beg you'll get all the powder into the south- 
 ern quarter of the building. Have all the doors and 
 windows boarded immediately. Good-evening " 
 
 Chives stopped him at the door. " Tor heaven's sake 
 don't detain me. I'm going down to fire the woods. 
 That's all I can do. Exert yourself here at once. Time 
 presses." 
 
 He ran down the stairway. Chives moved like a man 
 just awake. " Come, all hands ! the windows ! 
 
 His voice died away on the staii'S below, and for the 
 next hour kegs and barrels were thundering along be- 
 low in every direction. 
 
 By ten o'clock all the hills north of Post Evelyn were 
 enveloped in a mass of living flame. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 'E sat on the roof and watched it — Mrs. Deschap- 
 ples, Mrs. Hervey, and I. A blazing column shot 
 up first through the woods opposite the road to 
 
366 TiENSHAWE. 
 
 Massanoonga. Another lurid line rose in the direction 
 of Mount Boon, and a third cut off the avenue to Coal 
 River Marshes. Flames appeared at intervals towards 
 the west, and those before us shortly spread and ran 
 together. 
 
 The spectacle was one of sui-passing gi-andeur. The 
 roar of the fire was like steady thunder on the hills, and 
 the ascending sheet enveloiDed them fi'om base to sum- 
 mit, rising, falling, sinking, leaping, and whirling in huge 
 tongues and wi'eaths before the wind, overtopped by 
 a dense volume of smoke, rolling up into the immensity 
 of a dense, black ocean. 
 
 We were joined at midnight by Captain Whipplestaff. 
 Mrs. Hervey's admiration up to this time had been of the 
 absorbing nature that does not admit much conversation, 
 but on this new occasion she remarked that it was a 
 splendid fire. 
 
 " You wouldn't considah it quite so spwendid if you 
 wall on the othah side of it," said ^Tiipplestaff. "I nevah 
 was so fwightened in all my life. I got down by the wivah, 
 and we all in the boat, and the hawth swimming, and the 
 smoke was so thick we were neahly suftbcated." 
 
 "Did you see anvthing of the enemy?" 
 
 " Couldn't see anything in the smoke. Besides that, 
 the hawth upset us, and we were all dwenched; but when 
 we got home we had suppah. Had a suppah of shad. 
 Vewy nice, shad is, when a man's hungwy. SujDpose 
 this fiah will burn ujd all the shad in the wivah." 
 
 " ^\Tiere is Colonel Berkley ?" asked ^Irs. Deschapples. 
 
 "I don't know. The last time I saw him, he was 
 uncawking a bottle of v^-ine. Oh, he's with the govah- 
 nah." 
 
 " I should think he would want to look at the fire," 
 said ^Ii's. Hervey. 
 
 *' Well, they're vewy busy, to-night. There's a messen- 
 
PORT EVELYN. 367 
 
 gah from Major Da\is. "We've seen fiahs out on the 
 pwaiwies and in the backwoods. One gets tiahed of 
 fiahs in the cwearhwings. Deah me, I saw fiah enough 
 in the boat, and sinoke too. Theah's a spy among us 
 somewheahs. Good says communication was held to-day 
 in the woods with the enemy." 
 
 " He ought to mention that to the Colonel," Mrs. Des- 
 chapples exclaimed. 
 
 " I mentioned it to the colonel," said Captain Whip- 
 plestaff, while we weah at suppah, and it seems the 
 colonel knew it. He told me to keep still about it, and 
 told Good, too, for it seems he doesn't want the govah- 
 nah to heah about it till he has thowoughly inwestigated 
 the matt ah. The enemy are nicely fixed. There's a 
 gweat wivah each side of them now. No boats, and the 
 bwidges all burnt. They cant cwoss, and a fiah that they 
 can't appwoach, unless they ah salamandahs. It wiU 
 deway them, you see, and deway is all we want." 
 
 I was not a little alarmed by that divis^ion of Captain 
 Whipplestaff's remarks relating to the spj^, and brooded 
 over them so studiously that I did not notice the govern- 
 or's arrival on the roof, until he stood close at my side. 
 But Chives was too full of anxieties about the wind to 
 think of anything else. He went to the turn beyond the 
 tower every minute, to consult the weathercock, in con- 
 stant dread lest the wnnd would change, and in that case 
 the smoke would be too intolerable for a soul to remain 
 in the place. 
 
 "We can cwose up the windahs," Whipplestaff sug- 
 gested, "and the daws; then we can bweathe the aih in 
 the house a while. But it won't happen all at once, gov- 
 ahnah. Wind won't change wight wound, this way, with- 
 out a warning, will it ?" 
 
 " It does occasionally," said the governor. " ^Miirls 
 straight about to the opposite side of the compass. But 
 
368 RENSHAWE. 
 
 Colonel Berkley may have some charm against the smoke 
 for aught I know." 
 
 Mrs. Deschapples had been in the meantime informing 
 me aside what an intriguing, unprincipled woman Mrs. 
 Hervey was, but she should find herself cu'cumvented. 
 Mrs. Deschapples would take care that Berkley should 
 not. speak to her that night." 
 
 I was rather inchned to sympathize. The flames raged 
 on unsubdued in intensity. The same hot air \isited my 
 face, the same glaring hght threw its feverish hue over 
 the countenances of the company. 
 
 " Heigho, Berkley," said the governor, as that gentle- 
 man issued from the watch-tower. " You're come at last 
 to glance at the fire-works." 
 
 Berkley had stopped to exchange a word with IMrs. 
 Hervey. The governor renewed his congratulations. 
 Providence had saved the ammunition, for if the wind 
 had not been right, and the trees had not been rainless 
 and dewless for so many days, the arsenal would have 
 been in the hands of the enemy. 
 
 " Sooner than that," rejoined Berkley, " I would have 
 blown the house up, and myself with it." 
 
 " Suicide," said ]Mrs. Hervey, gently. 
 
 " Self-immolation is not always suicide," rejoined the 
 rebel officer. 
 
 " And when self-immolation is not suicide," said Mrs. 
 DeschapjDles, " which means when one dares death, or 
 meets it for a principle, it deserves immortahty." 
 
 The ill-fated commander of the Westfield had not yet 
 accomphshed his self-immolation at Galveston, or I 
 might have told Colonel Berkle}^ that it rested with a 
 Penshawe so to immortalize an already honorable name. 
 
 Mrs. Deschax^ples had gone off with Colonel Berkley in 
 triumph cf soul, as I needed httle sldU to divine. I saw 
 them walking up and down together on the opposite bat- 
 
PORT EVELYN. 309 
 
 tlements, and looked after them with undefined satisfac- 
 tion. Mrs. Hervey scarcely turned her head in that 
 direction, and appeared serene and untroubled. But my 
 own soul was in a state of great perturbation. Berkley 
 had not spoken to me when I joined the party on the 
 housetop. After the first distant bow, he had not even 
 looked at me, and to my great chagrin, I recalled the 
 last words he had addi'essed to me in his peremptory 
 mandate the previous afternoon. Was it accidental, this 
 behavior, or was it the result of distrust and contempt ? 
 The sound of the horn called me to myself. Captain 
 ■Whipplestafl: was announcing to Mrs. Hervey that the 
 sun was up, and would shortly be visible over the hill. 
 
 The sun was up. It dimmed the flames rolling do^vn 
 on the hills, and relieved their lurid glare by the unmis- 
 takable light of day. I had taken refuge at one of the 
 windows of the hall. There was a horseman at the gates 
 who looked tired and travel-soiled, and who did not 
 gain admittance until after considerable parley. He had 
 ridden into the outer yard, dismounted, and actually 
 reached the hall door, before I recognized Captain Walby. 
 It was too late to retreat, and I awaited his next move in 
 absolute consternation. Captain Walby stopped short as 
 he saw me, but a suspicious lifting of the eye-brows, and 
 caress of the sword-hilt, was the only recognition. 
 
 "Where's Colonel Berkley?" he said to Good, who was 
 in the hall. 
 
 " On the top of the house, sir. Go straight up stairs 
 to the watch-tower, and you'll come out on the roof." 
 Walby waited no further direction, but darted up the 
 staircase rapidly. The battlements were in full view from 
 the stand I had taken. I saw Mrs. Deschapples and 
 Berkley stopped in their promenade by the lately-arrived 
 officer. If I could have known whether Captain Walby 
 had yet spoken of me ! perhaps he had not thought of 
 
o70 RENSHAT^-E. 
 
 me again. The two gentlemen had disappeared at the 
 watch-tower. Mrs. Deschapples came down and joined 
 me. She said Walby had just come from Col. Himter 
 with some important intelligence, and that Colonel Berk- 
 ley's regiment, in charge of Major Da\is, would be there 
 in the course of the morning. Colonel Berkley and 
 Walby had gone to the Eastern di'a wing-room, and had 
 sent for Governor Chives and Captain "VMiipplestaff. 
 
 Orders were soon jDromiilgated. A general stir took 
 place, and the soldiers began to lead out and harness the 
 horses, and disentangle the wagons and gun-carriages 
 fr'om the coui'tyard. I soon saw that the business of 
 loading was in rapid progress, and !Mrs. Deschapples elu- 
 cidated from one of the men all he knew about it, namely, 
 that the commands were for the men to have ever^-thing 
 loaded and ready to start before the breakfast hour, but 
 when they were going the soldier could not for the life of 
 of him tell, and where was even more beyond his know- 
 ledge. 
 
 Ignorance as to Captain Walby's comse regarding me 
 was not left to me very long. A soldier came up to us 
 while we were inspecting the confusion of the coui-t yard, 
 and announced that the governor wished to see Miss 
 Renshawe. 
 
 In the miserable wish of gaining time, though only 
 one second, I asked where the governor was. Mrs. Des- 
 chajDples bade the soldier lead the way; and in absolute 
 agony of soul I went to the room where ]Mi's. Heiwey had 
 surprised us the evening before. Chives was there, Berk- 
 ley, Walby and Captain Whipplestaff, seated round 
 the table. They all looked at me hke so many demons. 
 
 " Miss Renshawe," said Berkley, " will you have the 
 kindness to state definitely why you did not telegraph 
 fr'om Richmond to Charleston, instead of waiting tiH you 
 reached Suffolk ?" 
 
PORT EVELYN. 371 
 
 "Because," said I, " I feared arrest in Kichmond as a 
 
 " Were yoii known to tlie authorities in Richmond as a 
 
 m" 
 
 " No, but the paper going to show me such had been 
 inspected and its nature proclaimed to some, persons 
 who might mention it ?" 
 
 "What persons?" 
 
 " One was Captain Walby," said I, looking not very 
 lovingly at that gentleman. 
 
 " How was Captain Walby to endanger you when he 
 was a prisoner in Northern hands ? " 
 
 To this I could not reply.. 
 
 " There was a lady with you," Berkley proceeded ; 
 "who was she?" 
 
 " Did not Captain Walby know her ?" I inquired. 
 
 Captain Walby had not known her. " Then," said I, 
 I cannot mention her name." 
 
 I felt, the next instant, that Alice might not have 
 objected to my revealing her identity in my present 
 emergency. I therefore added : " It was Alice Ludlow." 
 
 Mingled incredulity and contempt were very plain on 
 Berkley's features. Chives took out his pocket-book. 
 " There's a photograph of Miss Ludlow. Walby, look at 
 it, if you please." 
 
 Walby said at once that although he had scarcely 
 looked at the lady in the carriage, he was ver}^ positive 
 this was the hkeness of another person. This method of 
 investigation made me exceedingly indignant. Chives 
 took up the thread of the discourse. 
 
 " ^Vhat man was that you were conversing with in the 
 woods yesterday ?" 
 
 "It was a man belonging to a Northern regiment," 
 said I; "I was out taking a walk, and met him by ac- 
 cident." » 
 
372 RENSHAWE. 
 
 " He was out taking a walk too, I suppose," sneered 
 Chives; " botli out taking a walk at the same time." 
 
 " Governor Chives," said I, " I told him nothing that 
 could' injure a soul in this house !" 
 
 "You sjyoke to him," said Chives, "that's enough. 
 What you said we won't ask you — we have hardly time 
 to listen to the truth." 
 
 " Then you will hsten," said I, "to my protest agaiast 
 this shameful detention. I never recognized yet your 
 right to arrest, or to parole, or to pardon. I know, and 
 you know it also, that you belong to a body in rebellion, 
 whom the United States does not acknowledge as belli- 
 gerent, and whose very existence it ignores." 
 
 " Oh, the deuce it does," said Chives ! " that's a new 
 doctrine, and rather a demonstrative ignorance on the 
 part of the United States. However, we are coming at 
 youi' principles, and I advise Colonel Berkley, the next 
 time he gives a parole, to ask the prisoner's views on the 
 subject of honor and honesty toward a body who, have 
 no rights, because they resist a tyranny, and who, when 
 absolutely ignored, have thrown half a million of men 
 into arms, and convulsed not alone the United States, 
 but all the world." 
 
 " Governor Chives," said I hotly, " the imputation you 
 throw on my motives, and the view you take of my 
 conduct, is too unjust to be j)atiently endured — I repeat, 
 I reiterate I have injui'ed no one here. Though I am 
 imprisoned by pii-ates, I have not forgotten the weight 
 of a promise, and have kept my promise most rehgiously, 
 though it was made to a Jew. All that I said to the scout, 
 when he remarked that few men were here, was that 
 you would soon be reinforced. That remark conduced to 
 your safety. Governor Chives." 
 
 " Oh, that's very fine — among our best friends and 
 g-uardians, perhaxDS, Miss Kenshawe. Colonel Berkley 
 
POKT ETELYN. ^' ^ 
 
 has put a viper on Hs hearth that seems inclined to sting 
 no one but himself, so far." 
 
 - Sting !" said I, passionately. " WiU yon explam your- 
 
 self sir'" 
 
 "Colonel Berkley," Chives continued, " lias interceded 
 for you, paroled you, and protected you to his ownoncon- 
 venience. You retort by calling him a pirate and a Jew. 
 If I had received such treatment as that, I should thmk 
 
 I was stung." „,,,., 
 
 This representation, given with the effect that charac- 
 terized the governor's lightest appeals, created some 
 compunction. I turned to the power he alluded to, and 
 said, with a faltering voice, "Colonel Berkley, you cannot 
 think me so ungrateful and dishonorable as to betray - 
 Berkley's look of careless contempt cut me to the very 
 
 ^°" You may retire," he said. I moved to obey, but before 
 reaching the door lost seU-government entirely, and 
 turned suddenly back, while the blood rushed tumultu- 
 ously into my face. 
 
 "Colonel George Berkley." I said, "do you dare o 
 command me ? Command your own slaves, if you will, 
 but there is no law in heaven or earth that makes you my 
 
 master." ^. ^ 
 
 Chives was laughing. In fact, they all were. Come, 
 Miss Eenshawe, have done with this tempest m a tea- 
 pot," said the governor. 
 
 "Gentlemen here. Miss Kcnshawe," said the superb 
 Captain Walby. " are too happy to recewe commands from 
 
 Ifidies 
 
 As I left the room my departure was followed by a roar 
 of laughter. "Lord! that girl's rich!'' exclaimed the 
 governor. " Ha ! ha ! Walby, give me Swift s dispatch. 
 
374 RENSHAWE. 
 
 1 
 
 CHAPTEK XXVI. 
 
 '0]\IPOSURE was vei-y shortly gained, and to 
 await the next developments in my favor or 
 against me, I had sought the most retired quar- 
 ter of the house below. This was on the piazza running 
 on the inside of a hollow square formed by the eastern 
 wings of the house. From this point I had a full \dew of 
 the basements, cool, shaded apartments, set with long 
 tables appertaining to the original furniture of the house, 
 and too useful to be devoted to the general destruction. 
 Matters there went on regardless of all that was transact- 
 ing above and without. The negroes, busied with their 
 own affaii'S, cared nothing for the danger of the situa- 
 tion, for all the bustle in the court-yard, where the sol- 
 diers were bucily executing their latest received orders,* 
 and the fire raging at the north, which was quite an old 
 story. 
 
 Orion, one of the negroes floui'ishing in the estabHsh- 
 ment, had been busy for some time at one of the win- 
 dows with a cap full of blue and yellow tobacco wrappers, 
 which he was shtting at one end after the fashion of 
 motto-papers. 
 
 "Dan," he said to that fellow-servant who had just 
 deposited on the window sill a boai'd on which were sev- 
 eral tin cups full of coffee, " did you see that young cul- 
 lud pusson dat opens de gate fur de grocer's cart across 
 de way ?" 
 
 "No, didn't see her," Dan rejoined. 
 
 "I'm a-makin' a bokkay for her," Orion annoimced. 
 
 " Dat yer bokkay ?" said Dan, regarding the tobacco 
 papers with a look of contempt. " ^\liy don't you guv 
 her good, live flowers ?" 
 
 " 'Kase I can't git 'em, nigger, dat's de reason," quoth 
 
PORT EVELYN. 
 
 375 
 
 Orion. He rolled up the i^apers top^etlier so as to pre- 
 sent a variegated effulgence at the top, and secured them 
 by a pin. As he held it up admiringly, Dan reached over 
 and struck at the head of it. 
 
 "Now, teU you what 'tis, nigger, ef ye do dat agin' 
 I'll hit you long side ob yer head." Dan instantly made 
 a second dash at the bouquet, and Orion retorted by 
 throwing down the board of coffee fi'om the window- 
 sill. A general scuffle ensued, and the other negroes 
 came about in crowds to look on, setting on the combat- 
 ants by cheers and encouraging plaudits. The uproar 
 soon grew considerable, the combatants yelled at the top 
 of their voices, and I was becoming quite alarmed at the 
 violence of the scene, when a voice was raised to quell it. 
 " What's going on, down there ?" Chives had come out 
 on the balcony opposite me, paper in one hand, and eye- 
 glasses in the other. He had to pound on the balustrade 
 before he could call attention. Exclamations of " dar's 
 de guv'nor !" instantly quelled the disturbance. Several 
 voices volunteered explanations. 
 
 •'Couple of Cunnel Berkley's niggers got a-fightin' 
 down here, massa." 
 
 " Tie them up, then," said Chives. " Tie them both up 
 with the same rope. Don't let me hear such a de^ihsh 
 noise again." 
 
 These orders were executed with high glee by the ne- 
 groes in the basement. Dan was soon secured to one 
 window, and Orion to the other. This arrangement sep- 
 arated them only physically; a war of words soon com- 
 menced, and was carried on with such vehemence that 
 Orion was finally removed to the outside of the building, 
 and tied up just outside of the trial-chamber, of which 
 change I became cognizant by seeing him l.^-ing asleep 
 in the battered piano-case, at which the horses had just 
 been fed. 
 
376 RENSHAWE. 
 
 Captain 'V\'Tiipplestaff soon joined me on the piazza 
 with a beverage in a tin cup, which he offered to me as a 
 " gwass of egg-nogg." I declined, and the officer placed 
 it on the balustrade, and sat down to sip it at his leisure. 
 
 " I thought you might have come to announce my sen- 
 tence, Captain ^Tiipple staff," said I. 
 
 " Don't know what it is yet," rephed the young man. 
 " I'm exceedingly sawy for you. Miss Wenshawe. I sym- 
 pathize with you pwofoundly, and indeed I told them up 
 staiahs that I bewieved evewy woahd you said." 
 
 " It was Tery kind in you. Captain Whipplestaff, to de- 
 fend me, especially as I know Captain Walby is so bitter 
 against me as to overrule all that can be said in my 
 favor." 
 
 " Walby is not so bittah as Berkley, ]\liss Wenshawe. 
 I never knew Berkley so seveah on a thing in my wife. 
 He bewieves evewything against you now, and he will 
 nevah get ovah it — nevah. I would not tell you all he 
 said; it wouldn't be pweasant. He said I made an ath 
 of myself, when I told him I bewieved you. He's busy 
 now about the expwosion." 
 
 " ^Tiat explosion ?" 
 
 " Going to bwow up this house." 
 
 "This house!" I started so violently as to send the 
 tin cup and its contents quite over the balcony. 
 
 "Deah me, ]\liss Wenshawe; spilt all my egg-nogg," 
 said he. " What is the mattah ?" 
 
 " Why, you say the house is to be blown up." 
 
 " So it is, but not till after bweakfast. It's too bad 
 you can't take an announcement quietly. Theah's not 
 anothah egg in the estabwishment." 
 
 I apologized for the accident, and demanded the reason 
 for the ex]^)losion. 
 
 " I don't know. But you shouldn't say expwosion so 
 woud. We don't want it to get a wound the house. The 
 
PORT EVELFN. 877 
 
 pooah cweatuahs might as well enjoy tlieiali wepast in 
 twanquillity." 
 
 "Why!" I exclaimed, "I hope Colonel Berkley does 
 not intend to destroy the people with the house ! " 
 
 "Why, of cawth not; but you see if it's told wiglit 
 away, theah'll be twemendous confusion. I expect to see 
 you all packed up, with your hat on, sitting out on the 
 hills thwee houahs bifoah we have stirred." 
 
 Comparative quiet ensued during the breakfast hour. 
 I was not sorry at the prospect of removal, though where 
 we were to go next, I had no idea. Perhaps that night 
 would see me farther away from home, the goal I longed 
 so earnestly to reach. I had no doubt that my parole 
 would be recalled shortly, and I placed again under guard; 
 but at all events it was my place now to be a passive ac- 
 tor, and await, in all the calmness I was mistress of, the 
 development of the mystery always surrounding the "next 
 thing." 
 
 Something was in motion on the far plains south of 
 Fort Evelyn, and by the excitement produced by the dis- 
 covery, I soon learned that soldiers were approaching, for 
 in the cloud of dust my unpractised eyes could not have 
 distinguished by what it was raised. A rash, wild hope 
 had risen at first, that it might be the Union troops from 
 Massanoonga, after a successful circumvention of the bar- 
 riers presented by river and land, and that rescue was at 
 hand for me, and capture for my enemies. As the ban- 
 ners revealed themselves, however, I saw that this hope 
 was groundless, and the insignia of the Confederate 
 States was hailed from the mansion by shouts of triumph 
 resounding through its solid arches. With unspeakable 
 chaorin, I watched them come, but not another clouded 
 brow was visible in the expectant crowd gathered below 
 the flag that floated over the steps of the building. 
 
 That next hour was a busy one. More wagons and 
 
378 RENSHAWE. 
 
 carts had been brought by the regiment, and they were 
 loaded as fast as hands could accomplish it with kegs 
 and cannon balls, and piles of musketry, carried from the 
 building. 
 
 At twelve o'clock, a blast fi'om a trumpet gave the 
 signal for all that was alive to quit the courtyard. The 
 wagons and gun-carriages formed a long line moving on 
 the southward road; a crowd of negroes following, and 
 the gates lined T\dth a steady out-coming of the soldiers. 
 
 " Are you not going to lead off the horses belonging to 
 the staff?" asked Mrs. Deschapples of Whipplestaff. 
 
 " Oh, no — those hawses won't feah the noise. I've seen 
 cannon balls fiahed cwose to theah eahs, and they never 
 twembled a haiah." 
 
 " I wish they'd set it oft' soon," said one of the officers. 
 "I don't care to stand here all day, just for the sake of 
 seeing the fun." 
 
 Intimations were given that the " fun" was not to be 
 longer delayed. The hills enveloped in smoke, presented 
 a backgi'ound to the North, and a dead calm reigned on 
 the face of the crowd, all collected on the knoll. 
 
 " No one in the house ?" asked the governor. 
 
 " No sir," replied a young officer, the last to quit the 
 building, "we have just been through it." 
 
 " Niggers aU out ?" 
 
 " Yes sir." 
 
 "It's aU right, eh Berkley ?" 
 
 Berkley ran his eye over the company. "Where's 
 Orion?" 
 
 " Gone down with the cannons," said Captain Whipple- 
 staff; "I saw him with all the niggers." 
 
 " And Dan ?" 
 
 Dan presented himself among the crowd. 
 
 " Light the fuse," said Chives. 
 
 The fuse divided in the middle of the court-yard into 
 
PORT EVELYN. 879 
 
 three forks, running under the hall and the east and west 
 wings of the building. Several sheafs of straw had been 
 made ready to conduct the flames. Two soldiers went 
 up and lit the pile lying by the fallen gates. 
 
 Safe as was the distance, there was a general move- 
 ment a little farther back on the knoll. Not one of the 
 officers had mounted. Trembling so that I could scarcely 
 stand, I looked up at the arches and towers of that old 
 stone house — it would be a fearful shock — a deafening 
 explosion; falling on ears, and jarring windows miles and 
 miles away. 
 
 Good Heavens ! there was life still about the doomed 
 building ! The piano-case moved, and a great, stalwart 
 negro rose sleepily therefi'om. Orion! Exclamations 
 of horror rose on the hill. 
 
 " Orion," called Berkley, " come away, for God's sake ! 
 You'll be blown sky-high !" 
 
 " He's tied ! he's tied !" echoed from several voices. 
 
 Orion looked at the flame that ran across the court- 
 yard, and took in the situation. He struggled fearfully 
 with the ropes, rushing to their full length, throwing 
 himself around till they wound about him like an ana- 
 conda's coil, but they would not break. The muscles on 
 his neck swelled amid his frantic plunges, blood gushed 
 from his nose and mouth, and the sweat streamed from 
 his face. Those cords were like cables. The flame had 
 disappeared within two doors of the building, and was 
 leaping upon the threshold of a third ! 
 
 " Hold my horse, Dan," said Berkley. 
 
 I turned away from the awful sight. Redoubled cries 
 ascended; the governor's voice rang out, " Oh, my God! 
 you have killed yourself! What are you doing?" 
 
 Was it all a hideous dream, and I just awaking ? No ; 
 there stood the house, there the flame ; and Colonel 
 Berkley had gone across the court-yard, and was severing, 
 
380 RENSHAWE. 
 
 one by one, with his sword, the ropes that bound the 
 negro to the house. Smoke was issuing already from the 
 windows ; it came denser and denser. 
 
 " Take me away from this, Walby," groaned Chives ; 
 " lead me away ; I cannot stand it." 
 
 The negi'o was loosed, but he clung to Berkley's waist 
 with a frenzied grasp. I saw the sword hfted above his 
 head, accompanied by some indistinguishable threat. 
 
 " Kill him !" called Chives ; " kill him, and come away !" 
 
 A tremendous ex^olosion shook the earth, and filled 
 the air with flying missiles. The western wing of the 
 building lay crashing and tumbling in its own ruin. As 
 the smoke rolled away, Berkley and Orion issued together 
 from its cloudy columns. As they gained the hill where 
 our party stood, a second and a third explosion racked 
 the earth, and filled the arching dome above with its 
 echoes. The building shook, tottered, fell, amid another 
 rush of smoke and dust, and the coui't-yard was covered 
 with a mass of fallen arches, broken colimms, and rolling 
 stones — all a blazing ruin, exhaling a mephitic steam. 
 
 " Now, then," s;iid Chives, " the sooner we get off fr'om 
 this place the better. Dan, bring up the horses." 
 
 Nearly all the officers had mounted ; one afrer another 
 they had ridden leisurely away. I saw ^Ii's. Deschapples 
 also on horseback, moving off with the rest. It was 
 getting quite distressing. I was still on parole, of course; 
 but how could I keep it if I had no horse ? A small knot 
 of gentlemen were still on the knoll. I called to Dan, 
 who was passing, and bade him ask Colonel Berkley if he 
 had forgotten !Miss Eenshawe. 
 
 Dan came back with the report that his master had 
 said no, and added the stai'thng information that the 
 gentlemen were talking about me. Dan led up the last 
 pair of horses to the knoll where they stood, but no one 
 moved. It was an earnest consultation. My heart grew 
 
rORT EVELYN. 381 
 
 sick as I watched them. Berkley at last detached him- 
 self from the group, and came across the ground to me. 
 I trembled in view of the coming announcement, and as 
 Berkley reached me, said a Httle hastily to ward it off : 
 
 "I have been waiting for the horse." 
 
 "What horse?" 
 
 " Am I expected to follow this procession on foot ?" 
 
 Berkley had taken out a black pocket-book, and was too 
 busy looking through it to heed the question. He took 
 out and unfolded a paper. It was the certificate of my 
 supposed espionage. 
 
 " Was my sentence decided on by you and your fellow 
 judges ?" I asked, with some bitter feelings at my heart. 
 
 " Yes," said Berkley ; " it relieves me of the charge of 
 your safety, which has been on my conscience for the 
 last two or three days. I return you this paper, handed 
 me yesterday by the governor. You are at liberty." 
 
 "At hberty!" said I, astonished beyond measure at 
 this, the very last announcement for which my soul had 
 been prepared. " By whose authority ?" 
 
 "By mine." 
 
 He offered the paper, but I did not take it yet. 
 
 " Then you do believe me innocent," said I. " Do all 
 the gentlemen coincide in that opinion ?" 
 
 " I advise you to lose no time in gathering opinions," said 
 the colonel, in a distant tone, that cut me to the very soul. 
 
 Captain Whipi)lestaff had not exaggerated. 
 
 "Colonel Berkley," said I, in a faltering voice, " if you 
 or those gentlemen think I could do them any injui-y, 
 they are greatly mistaken." 
 
 " We don't think anything about it," said Berkley ; "we 
 know that you have already done us all the injuiy that 
 lay in your power." 
 
 " Colonel Berkley," I persisted, earnestly, " do you not 
 feel in your heart that this judgment is too severe? Are 
 
382 RENSHAWE. 
 
 you not sensible that circumstances sometimes weigh 
 strongly against the innocent ? May not this be one of 
 those cases ? and do you give me my liberty," I went on, 
 stepjDing eagerly forward, " thinking me so mean and 
 unscmpulous as to break a parole ? I did not, and I 
 am no spy. Only say you beheve me, Colonel Berkley, 
 and no words will express my gratitude." 
 
 Berkley drew in his shoulders and elevated his eye- 
 brows — both movements so sKght as to be hardly per- 
 cei^tible. I was answered. He added \dth. a quickness 
 of tone that sufficiently indicated his impatience : 
 
 " Here is this paper, ]\Iiss Eenshawe. If I can serve 
 you in any other way, you have only to say so." 
 
 I crushed the paper in my hands, and threw it on the 
 gi'ound. 
 
 " The only way in which you can serve me now," I 
 said, " is to forget my existence as soon as possible. I 
 asked for your faith and you refused it. Xow I ask not 
 even justice. You shall never see my face again." 
 
 " Amen !" said Berkley, hastily. 
 
 There was a deferential bow, to which I did not respond, 
 by word or movement, and he walked off to join the 
 gToup that were slowly moving down the road. 
 
 The sound of wheels and hoofs from the retreating 
 caravan had quite died away ; the last group had disap- 
 peared among the trees, when Orion came up with one 
 of the horses. His master had sent down that horse for 
 i\liss Eenshawe. 
 
 " Take him back," said I. 
 
 The answer was too imperious to be disputed. Orion 
 got on the horse and galloped off. 
 
 People fi'om the village were coming up to gaze at the 
 ruin, and to avoid scrutinizing eyes, I went farther along 
 the highway, and sat down at a well by the roadside. 
 To the southward lay the desolated country; before me 
 
POET EVELYN. 388 
 
 the blasted ruin, and beyond, the dreary waste of smoky 
 mountains. 
 
 An hour had passed, and I was engrossed with my 
 own gloomy thoughts, watching the crowds that gathered 
 round the fallen house, when a sound of hoofs attracted 
 my attention. " Captain "Whipplestaff was coming up on 
 horseback, conducting a second charger by the bridle. 
 
 " 'Miss Wenshawe," said he, " Colonel Berkley has 
 sent me down with this hawse to you, and he weally in- 
 sists that you won't we fuse " 
 
 " I can accept no favor at Colonel Berkley's hand8,"said I. 
 
 " Well, I must say, youah extwemely foohsh," said the 
 captain. "He's the best fwend you have." 
 
 "Captain Whipplestaff, you yourself told me that 
 Colonel Berkley was my enemy, and his conduct has jus- 
 tified it." 
 
 "I did not say he was youah enemy. I said he 
 bewieved you weah his; and as for what you say of his 
 conduct, you must weally be a little just to the colonel. 
 Don't you know he might be cawtmahtialed and shot 
 for letting you go this mawning." 
 
 " Impossible." 
 
 " Certainly. You don't suppose it's the custom heah, 
 do you, to turn spies and pwisoners woose on the 
 countwy. We all wemonstwated ; the govahnah and 
 Walby said they'd put you on a hawse with a guahd 
 each side of you, and send you to Wichmond. But the 
 colonel was obstinate. Upon my soul, Miss Wenshawe, 
 as much as I sympathize with you, I would not ventuah 
 to do as the colonel has. The govahnah told him he 
 would wepent it, and the colonel said he wished he weah 
 as suah of being a genewal as that you would nevah in- 
 juah us again." 
 
 "Indeed," said I, quite amazed. "But he does think 
 I have injured you." 
 
884 EENSHAWE. 
 
 " Oh, yes, lie thinks that — he's unmoved as a gwanite 
 Tvock about that. Now then will you take this hawse ?" 
 
 " No, Captain Whipplestaff; but tell Colonel Berkley I 
 am very gi-ateful for his kindness to me." 
 
 Whipplestaff expressed his regret at leaving me iu 
 such a forloi*ti and unprotected situation, and rode off. 
 
 I sank do^Ti unspeakably miserable. What did it 
 matter to me that I had been set free bodily, when I was 
 held in mental bondage ? 
 
 A hand was laid on my arm; I looked up and saw 
 Mrs. Hervey. 
 
 " Have you nowhere to go, IVIiss Renshawe ?" 
 
 "Nowhere on the face of the earth." 
 
 " I see you have refused theii' aid ; perhaps you will 
 accept mine? My horses and servant are below at the 
 river, and if you will go with me to Massanoonga you 
 shall be a welcome guest." 
 
 I had no words in which to thank her, and was only 
 too glad to follow. 
 
 THE END OF RENSHAWE. 
 
 IN PRESS— A continuation of this Story, entitled Delawaee. 
 
RARE BOOK 
 COLLECTION 
 
 THE LIBRARY OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 AT 
 
 CHAPEL HILL 
 
 Wilmer 
 867 
 
 1