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 OTHER STORIES 
 
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THE UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 THE WILMER COLLECTION 
 
 OF CIVIL WAR NOVELS 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 RICHARD H. WILMER, JR. 
 
 '93/ 
 
 ^A a 
 
 Main 
 
 Street, 
 
 I^IELD, M*S*.^ 
 
THE UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 AT CHAPEL HILL 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 PURCHASED ON THE 
 
 DR. AND MRS. 
 
 JOSEPH EZEKIEL POGUE 
 
 ENDOWMENT FIND 
 
"'COME AND GIVE ME YOUR HAND, MY DEAR BOY 
 
 [/•„.,, 18 
 
JHE MIDNIGHT WARNING 
 
 and Other Stories. By 
 Edwaed H. House. With 
 Twenty Illustrations * # 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 HARPER & BROTHERS, FRANKLIN SQUARE 
 
 189 2 
 
Copyright, 1892, by Harper & Brothers. 
 All rights reserved. 
 
TO 
 
 THOMAS D. LOWTHER 
 
 THE GUIDE OF MY OWN LITERARY YOUTH 
 
 I DEDICATE THESE STORIES 
 
 WRITTEN FOR THE YOUTH OF A LATER GENERATION 
 
 E. H. H. 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2010 with funding from 
 
 University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/midnightwarningoOOhous 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 page 
 
 THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 1 
 
 GRACIE'S GODSON 107 
 
 NATTY BARTON'S MAGIC ITS 
 
 OUR UGLY IDOL 23C 
 
 TRY AGAIN TRESCOTT'S WAGER 260 
 
 A FRIEND IN NEED 2T7 
 
 APPENDIX 294 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 " 'COME AND GIVE ME YOUR HAND, MY DEAR 
 
 BOY'" Frontisjihee 
 
 "THE ENTERTAINMENT WAS IN VIGOROUS OP- 
 ERATION " Faces page 110 
 
 ' ' she added, in an undertone, ' you can 
 
 see what misery she is in ' " . . . . " " 118 
 
 " 'good-bye, gracie,' he repeated" . . . " " 146 
 
 "in an instant he slipped through the 
 
 window" " " 154 
 
 "'oh, papa, take care; its robin,' plead- 
 ed gracie " . ' " " 160 
 
 "sent him forth into tiie darkness" . " " 168 
 
 "'why, it's my roi5in!' cried gracie ". . " " 174 
 
 "PRETENDED to pick some candies from 
 
 her basket" " " 194 
 
 "HE moved his finger up and down 
 
 three times" " " 198 
 
 "she lald down her knife and fork, and 
 
 ROSE FROM nER SEAT" " " 208 
 
 "THE SPECTATORS WERE WILD WITH DE- 
 LIGHT" " " 216 
 
 adela's DOVE TRICK " " 218 
 
 "'I WILL ALWAYS STAY WITH YOU,' DE- 
 CLARED THE CHILD " " " 232 
 
 " 'THAT IS THE YOUNG GENTLEMAN, AND 
 
 THIS IT IS I HAVE TO TELL ' " .... " " 242 
 
X ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 "MY HEART WENT TO MY MOUTII — I HARDLY 
 
 dared TO stir " Faces page 252 
 
 " 'i'll take that bet, jim potter'*' . . " *" 270 
 " tne new york lad flourished his weap- 
 on in the air " " " 274 
 
 "a few minutes later mr. moreau was 
 
 seated at florence's left side" . . " " 282 
 "master jackson led nis sister to her 
 
 PLACE" " "289 
 
THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 
 a Soutbem Cale of jfourtb of 5ulg in Mar Ctme 
 
 It was on the afternoon of the Fourth of July, 
 1861, that my father resolved to throw away all 
 reserve, and confide to me, his eldest son, the 
 difficulties and dangers of his position, the pur- 
 poses he had formed for immediate action, and 
 the hopes which he cherished for the future. 
 
 I was in a state of such bewilderment that I 
 could scarcely control my thoughts. Only a few 
 hours before a strange and startling event had 
 occurred, for which I was totally unprepared, 
 and which had gone far to unsettle many of my 
 boyish ideas of right and justice. It was not 
 easy for me, at my age, to recover from a shock 
 so suddenly and so unexpectedly received. 
 
 At eleven o'clock in the morning or there- 
 about, while I was working in my mother's 
 
2 THE MIDNIGHT WAKNING 
 
 flower-garden beneath our parlor windows, my 
 attention had been attracted by the approach of 
 a body of horsemen rapidly advancing from the 
 eastward. I gave them only a casual glance, 
 having not the slightest anticipation that they 
 intended to favor us with a call. Visitors to our 
 house had not been numerous of late, although 
 there had been a time, not very remote, when 
 the planters of the neighborhood w T ere never 
 tired of accepting and enjoying my father's hos- 
 pitality. I had no suspicion that there were es- 
 pecial reasons for their gradual falling off, and 
 the disturbed condition of the district was suffi- 
 cient, it seemed to me, to account for all social 
 irregularities ; but I was soon to be more fully 
 enlightened, and in a Avay as humiliating as it 
 was alarming. 
 
 Instead of passing our gate, the cavalcade 
 turned in and rode swiftly to the front door, 
 which stood open at all seasons. 
 
 " Come in, gentlemen," my father called out, 
 cheerfully, from the porch. "Ptolemy will see 
 to your horses. Call the boys, Ptol ; look 
 sharp." 
 
 The old negro was quickly at hand with a 
 number of assistants, and in a few minutes the 
 unlooked-for guests, of whom there were not less 
 than half a dozen, were seated in the parlor, 
 
 RBO 
 NcU 
 
THE MIDNIGHT WAENING 3 
 
 while their host was setting the usual refresh- 
 ment on a table. 
 
 " Help yourselves, gentlemen," I heard him 
 say, with his accustomed cordiality ; but to my 
 surprise the invitation met with no response. 
 After a moment, the awkward silence was bro- 
 ken by a voice which I recognized as that of 
 Judge Huntoon, a well-known resident of Helena, 
 whose pride in his reputation as an orator of 
 the most approved South-western pattern was a 
 matter of common notoriety. 
 
 " We are here, Colonel Claiborne," he began, 
 stiffly and pompously, "to perform an unpleasant 
 office. Our fellow -citizens of Phillips County 
 have delegated us to wait on you and express 
 the general regret at your failure to co-operate 
 in their measures for the welfare of our govern- 
 ment and country." 
 
 "It is true, judge," my father replied, with 
 characteristic gentleness, " that I have given no 
 substantial proof of fidelity to my country in 
 this unhappy crisis, but it is not lack of devotion 
 that restrains me. You and most of my neigh- 
 bors are aware that I am bound to my home by 
 duties which I have no right to disregard." 
 
 " We fully appreciate the claims of your fam- 
 ily," responded Judge Huntoon, gradually be- 
 coming grandiloquent, as was his fashion when 
 
4 THE MIDNIGHT WAKNING 
 
 addressing even a small audience. " You have, 
 sir, our deepest sympathy in the afflictions 
 which have befallen you. It is not required by 
 your friends that you deprive those Avho are 
 dearest to you of your companionship and care, 
 but we justly demand that the moral support of 
 so distinguished a citizen of Arkansas shall no 
 longer be denied to us. You have had many op- 
 portunities, since the State proclaimed its eman- 
 cipation from Northern bondage, of declaring 
 your loyal adherence to the Confederacy. You 
 have availed yourself of none of these, and your 
 omission to do so has provoked criticism. We 
 now call upon you to make open affirmation of 
 your principles, as becomes a patriot and a wor- 
 thy son of the South." 
 
 " You have chosen a singular day for an errand 
 of this description," my father remarked, as calm- 
 ly as before. 
 
 " "We have chosen it deliberately. It seemed 
 fitting that you should be accorded the privilege 
 of announcing your allegiance on the chief an- 
 niversary of that nation to which we once be- 
 longed, but which we have been compelled to re- 
 nounce and abjure." 
 
 "There can be no better occasion for avow- 
 ing my allegiance — my undying allegiance," said 
 my father, in a tone that singularly affected me. 
 
THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 5 
 
 " That ought to be sufficient, gentlemen," ex- 
 claimed Judge Huntoon. "I congratulate you, 
 Colonel Claiborne, on the fortunate result of this 
 interview. And now, I think, we may join in 
 drinking prosperity to the righteous cause, and 
 confusion to its enemies." 
 
 " I could do that with all my heart and soul," 
 said my father ; " but I feel that there should be 
 a clearer understanding between us, and — " 
 
 " Right you are, sir," broke in a third party 
 to the conversation, whom I knew by his pecul- 
 iarly broad plantation accent to be Major Brin- 
 dal, a prominent local politician and one of the 
 fiercest advocates of secession. " The judge will 
 excuse me if I say this matter needs a good deal 
 more clearing up than it's likely to get by his 
 delicate handling. What the people of Phillips 
 County expect, Colonel Claiborne, is that you'll 
 come out of your shell — clean out, once and for 
 all. If you can't take the field, as most of us 
 hope to do, you can at least put yourself square 
 on the record, and let us know that you're a 
 stanch friend of the new flag. There's been too 
 much delay already. We want the truth, the 
 whole truth, and nothing but the truth ; and we 
 want it now !" 
 
 " So far as I am concerned, Major Brindal. you 
 shall have it," returned my father ; " and I may 
 
6 THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 
 
 add that you, or others, could have had it at any 
 time during the past six months, if you had seen 
 fit to ask for it. My old friend the judge, like 
 all men of his standing, needs no assurance that 
 I yield nothing to your importunity which I 
 would not more readily have conceded to his 
 courtesy. It is not my habit to force others to 
 listen to my convictions, but that does not mean 
 that I have none, or that I desire to conceal 
 them. You have come here to satisfy yourself 
 and the community as to my loyalty and patri- 
 otism. Take away no doubt with you, gentle- 
 men, concerning my sentiments. I would lay 
 down my life, I would forfeit everything but 
 honor, for the country into which I was born 
 thirty-nine years ago ; by which I was trained 
 to manhood, on the banks of the Hudson Eiver, 
 a score of years later ; for which I fought in 
 Mexico, to the best of my strength, in forty- 
 eight; and under whose mild and tolerant gov- 
 ernment I have since dwelt in happiness and 
 peace until the outbreak of this causeless war- 
 fare. That country, you well know, is the United 
 States of America. I acknowledge no other, 
 and while Heaven permits me to draw the breath 
 of life none shall take its place in my affection, 
 and no power shall cause my faith and trust in 
 it to falter." 
 
THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 7 
 
 I was almost paralyzed with amazement, and, 
 I will frankly admit, with terror as well, as I 
 listened to these Avords. Up to that moment, I 
 had not dreamed that my father's opinions were 
 in any serious degree opposed to those of the 
 majority — I may say the almost unanimous ma- 
 jority—of our section. I knew he had been a 
 firm Union man in past years, but it never oc- 
 curred to me that he would venture, or even de- 
 sire, to dissociate himself from the great move- 
 ment in which, I fancied, every Southern-born 
 American was bound to take part. This seemed 
 so much a matter of course that I had thought 
 it wholly unnecessary to question him upon the 
 subject ; and his habitual repugnance to political 
 discussion accounted, in a good measure, for the 
 silence he had maintained in the early stages of 
 the Rebellion. 
 
 Knowing the temper of the neighborhood, and 
 the ungovernable fury which possessed many of 
 the popular leaders, my first apprehension was 
 for my father's personal safety. I leaped up to 
 the window beneath which I had been standine 1 , 
 and climbed into the parlor, determined to hold 
 myself ready for any emergency. In the ex- 
 citement that prevailed, my entrance was unno- 
 ticed. The visitors had sprung to their feet, and 
 were talking so violently that no one of them 
 
8 THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 
 
 could understand the other. All were gesticu- 
 lating wildly around the tranquil figure which 
 stood unmoved amid the clamor, in the centre of 
 the room. 
 
 " I told you how it would be, gentlemen," 
 shouted Major Brindal, who was the first to gain 
 a hearing. "This crazy abolitionist will be let- 
 ting his niggers loose upon us, if we give him the 
 chance." 
 
 " That is no part of my duty," said my father, 
 smiling faintly, as if amused at the major's bois- 
 terous demonstration. " The servants are in no 
 fit condition to receive their freedom. I wish 
 they were, for it will come to them only too 
 soon." 
 
 "Colonel Claiborne," the major screamed, "you 
 speak like a madman !" 
 
 "I speak without violence, sir, and without for- 
 getting that there are sick and suffering wom- 
 en in the house. Unless you can moderate your 
 tone I shall hold no further parley with you." 
 
 " The colonel is right," said Judge Huntoon, 
 with ponderous formality. " This is not the 
 place for heated argument. But the exigencies 
 of the public service — " 
 
 " Allow me, judge," interrupted my father ; 
 "now that you, tell me I am an object of un- 
 friendly scrutiny, I am entirely willing to meet 
 
THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 9 
 
 my fellow-citizens at any time — this evening, if 
 you like, in Helena Court-house — and define my 
 position in the clearest possible manner. That 
 will probably be better than to continue what 
 might become an angry disputation under my 
 own roof." 
 
 " It seems to me, however," said the fire-eating 
 major, " that proper precautions should be ob- 
 served." 
 
 The sheriff of the county was one of the party 
 of inquisition, and at this point he thought it 
 proper to interfere. 
 
 '- No precautions are necessary," he asserted. 
 " I don't know what you mean, Major Brindal. 
 The colonel's word is a sufficient guaranty for 
 his appearance, and for the fulfilment of his 
 promise. I fervently trust that in the interval 
 he will convince himself of the expediency of 
 modif}ang the dangerous doctrines he has im- 
 prudently avowed." 
 
 Five minutes later my father and I were left 
 alone. 
 
 " Say nothing to your mother about this dis- 
 agreeable scene," he warned me, " unless you are 
 directly questioned. Leave me for an hour, Lio- 
 nel, and then come to me in the library." 
 
 The caution was scarcely needed. I knew how 
 important it was to keep my mother free from 
 
10 THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 
 
 agitation. She had lain for months, hovering be- 
 tween life and death, the victim of a frightful 
 steamboat disaster on the Mississippi. My grand- 
 mother had been terribly injured by the same 
 explosion, and my grandfather and one of my 
 sisters had been killed outright. Our home was 
 filled with hopeless grief and anguish, for we had 
 learned that neither mother nor grandmother 
 could ever recover, though the fatal result might 
 be long delayed. 
 
 II 
 
 At the appointed time I joined my father in 
 what we called the library, but which was in fact 
 rather a business office than a place for studious 
 retirement. I saw at a glance that a change had 
 been made in the disposition of its few familiar 
 decorations. Over an engraved portrait of Wash- 
 ington, always the most conspicuous object in the 
 room, was draped a silken flag of the Union, 
 which had been given to my father by his young 
 bride when he started southward with his regi- 
 ment, in forty -eight, and ever since carefully 
 preserved, though rarely exhibited, even to mem- 
 bers of the household. A likeness of Jeffer- 
 son Davis, under whose immediate command my 
 
THE MIDNIGHT WARNING H 
 
 father had served in Mexico, which had long held 
 a prominent position, was now displaced and de- 
 posited on the floor, the face turned to the wall. 
 Upon a cushion, in a recess, the family Bible 
 had always rested, but I observed that another 
 book, of small size, which I did not remember, 
 had been laid beside it. 
 
 " You know, Lionel," said my father, " that I 
 have no fondness for meaningless shows. But I 
 wish to impress you, on this "day of noble memo- 
 ries, with the sacredness of two objects, one of 
 which is the emblem of my political faith, and 
 the other the foundation of my political convic- 
 tions. I fear that I have never made you com- 
 prehend what this flag means to me ; and I 
 am sure I have too long neglected to guide 
 you to a proper understanding of the priceless 
 legacy left us by those who framed our govern- 
 ment. I have been to blame, but from this time 
 forth it shall be my chief duty to repair the 
 fault," 
 
 " I had no suspicion that your feeling was so 
 strong, sir." 
 
 " I wished your boyhood to pass without the 
 anxieties which have beset me in recent years. 
 But I should have seen how impossible it is even 
 for the young to escape the evil influences of 
 these davs. I trust no harm has come from mv 
 
12 THE MIDNIGHT WAKNING 
 
 delay. You have not allowed yourself to be 
 misled by the follies of our neighbors ?" 
 
 " I did not imagine that you were against 
 them, sir. I thought you were perhaps indif- 
 ferent ; nothing more." 
 
 " If your mother did not need me every day 
 and hour I should now be far away from this 
 spot. Nothing but her grievous strait could keep 
 me from offering my service where it is due." 
 
 " But, father, you' cannot live in peace with 
 the people hereabout after what you have said 
 to-day." 
 
 " I could not live in peace with myself if I con- 
 tinued to conceal the truth. I am not sorry the 
 occasion came. I looked for it sooner, for I gave 
 good cause for distrust by refusing, last month, 
 to join in the celebration of that wretched melee 
 which our friends persist in calling the glorious 
 triumph at Manassas. Since I have to take a 
 stand in opposition to my old associates, there 
 cannot be a better day than this for doing it." 
 
 ""Will you really go to Helena Court-house, 
 this evening, and defy them ?" 
 
 " I shall go to declare my position, that is all." 
 
 " It will be the same thing to them. You will 
 take me with you, father?" 
 
 " Not for the world. Think of your mother, 
 if—" 
 
THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 13 
 
 He did not finish the sentence, nor was it 
 necessary. I understood him well enough. I 
 knew that he risked his life in venturing among 
 the desperate men he had pledged himself to 
 meet, not in fellowship, but as an enemy to the 
 cause they worshipped. I knew, also, that noth- 
 ing would turn him from a purpose to which he 
 had set his mind, and that, although he might go 
 to his death, he would go without shrinking. 
 My heart was heavy as I listened to his instruc- 
 tions for my future conduct in the event of 
 calamity to him. But I strove not to add to his 
 tribulation by showing the dread which nearly 
 overcame me, and before the afternoon was 
 ended I had gathered from the example of his 
 splendid spirit a courage of which I had never 
 before been conscious. I felt, indeed, child as I 
 was in years, that this Fourth of July must be 
 the birthday of my own manhood. 
 
 He went to Helena, and returned in security. 
 The respect he had earned by his upright and 
 unselfish life, and the gratitude with which the 
 citizens remembered the many public benefits he 
 had conferred, were his safeguards at this mo- 
 ment of trial. But he had lost forever the affec- 
 tion, and probably the good opinion, of the 
 community which had before been ever ready 
 to exalt and do him honor. From that clay 
 
14 THE MIDNIGHT WAKNING 
 
 existence was made a weary burden to him. 
 He was regarded as an outcast, and condemned 
 to an isolation which was relieved by no single 
 sign of sympathy, even from those who had been 
 his deepest debtors. The malice, the contumely, 
 the insolent brutality with which he was per- 
 secuted would have crushed a man of less indom- 
 itable will ; but no word of complaint fell from 
 his lips, and I recall no interruption to the 
 patient dignity which sustained him through 
 months of sorrow and privation. 
 
 The flag which my father loved was carefully 
 put away on the morning following the Fourth. 
 He did not wish to expose it to any chance of 
 insult or mockery, nor was he inclined to excite 
 animosity by openly displaying it. But the little 
 volume I had noticed, which was a copy of the 
 Constitution of the United States, and which now 
 appeared to command his reverence beyond all 
 books save that beside which he had placed it, 
 remained in constant use. It became the basis 
 of a course of study by which I was made ac- 
 quainted with the principles in defence of which 
 he was willing to accept a life of sacrifice and 
 pain. 
 
 I shall not attempt to describe the miseries of 
 that cruel winter. My grandmother died before 
 the incoming of the year 1862, and early in the 
 
THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 15 
 
 ensuing summer my dear mother followed her. 
 I well knew that after this event nothing would 
 long detain my father. He waited only for the 
 opportunity to break away from the galling in- 
 activity to which he had been condemned, and 
 he felt that this was near at hand when the news 
 came that General Curtis, with a sufficient Union 
 force, was about to establish himself on the west- 
 ern side of the Mississippi, fixing his headquarters 
 at Helena. 
 
 On the Fourth of July, 18G2, I was again 
 called to our library to receive my father's final 
 orders, previous to his departure. The silken 
 flag had been taken from its hiding-place, and 
 hung once more over the "Washington portrait. 
 The Constitution, which I now knew so well by 
 heart that its covers were seldom opened, was in 
 its place of distinction, near the Bible. My twin- 
 sister Jennie, and my little brother Julius, nine 
 years old, were also summoned to this interview. 
 
 " I made a mistake," my father said, " in keep- 
 ing you, Lionel, so long ignorant of what it was 
 needful you should learn. We must not let Julius 
 grow up without a better understanding of our 
 obligations to the only country that a Claiborne 
 can honorably acknowledge. He is too young 
 to grasp more than the simple outlines of the 
 situation, but he knows why I must leave you, 
 
16 THE MIDNIGHT WAKNING 
 
 and with what purpose I go. Instruct him in 
 the right course, so far as his years will allow, 
 and make him what a loyal American's son should 
 be, until I can take him under my own care again." 
 
 I promised, fervently and faithfully, for my 
 father's labor had borne good fruit, and he could 
 not have asked for a sincerer disciple of his na- 
 tional faith than I had become through his wise 
 and earnest teaching. 
 
 " And now, my boy," he continued, " from this 
 day I give over to you the charge of our home 
 and the guardianship of your sister and brother. 
 It is a trust which I know you will fulfil with 
 diligence, and you will not find it too heavy a 
 burden, for you have a steady head on }'our fif- 
 teen-year-old shoulders, and have thoroughly 
 learned the necessary lessons of prudence and 
 self-restraint. I can leave you only a little mon- 
 ey, but the plantation will supply most of your 
 actual needs. Some of the negroes will stand by 
 you to the last extremity. I cannot answer for 
 all. I have given them to understand that they 
 are free, so far as my will can liberate them, and 
 that I believe they soon will be so declared by 
 the law of the land. Those who choose to re- 
 main under your control until peace is restored 
 will find me then ready to help in fitting them 
 for their new condition. Manv, however, will 
 
THE MIDNIGHT WAKNING 17 
 
 prefer to seek their fortune in their own way, 
 and of course they cannot be stayed by you. I 
 do not think that my fellow-citizens who have 
 honored me so liberally with their disfavor will 
 harass you after I have gone. The Southern 
 people are not inhuman, no matter how misguid- 
 ed they may be, and the worst of them would 
 take no pleasure in molesting a family of chil- 
 dren haplessly deprived of their parent's protec- 
 tion. They will bitterly assail me for what they 
 will call my desertion of you, but I can heed no 
 reproach for obeying the commands of my con- 
 science. Come nearer to me, my dear ones. Let 
 me say farewell while we stand together beneath 
 the flag for the sake of which I part from you, 
 and under which, by God's blessing, we shall 
 surely be reunited, in happiness and love." 
 
 He left us at nightfall, and, passing through 
 the Union lines, was warmly welcomed as a wor- 
 thy accession to the body of skilled soldiers then 
 gathering around the great general who was 
 presently to lead the armies of the nation, one 
 after another, to the proudest victories of mod- 
 ern history. 
 
 The year went slowly by, with few events to 
 vary the monotony which settled upon our house- 
 hold. Though we had little to cheer us, we were 
 seldom called upon to endure actual hardships. 
 
18 THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 
 
 The people in the vicinity were not unkind, and 
 some among them were apparently ready to be- 
 friend us to a certain extent ; but, remembering 
 the bitterness of their rancor towards my father, 
 I could not respond to any of their advances, 
 and we were gradually left to the solitude which 
 we preferred to any companionship that our lo- 
 cality could afford. 
 
 I worked hard at all seasons, assisted sturdily 
 by old Ptolemy and a dozen more of our best 
 servants, who never dreamed of abandoning the 
 homes in which they had been reared. But for 
 their lively humor the loneliness would have been 
 almost unbearable. We heard twice from father 
 during the winter, the letters being brought out 
 secretly by scouting parties. Frequent commu- 
 nications were impossible, for General Curtis 
 kept his troops, as a rule, well within their for- 
 tifications, and it had been clearly pointed out 
 by the neighbors that I should be sharply dealt 
 with if I attempted to wander from our prem- 
 ises towards the river. 
 
 With the spring of 1863 came indications of 
 active movements on both sides, and small bod- 
 ies of cavalry began to circulate through our 
 part of Arkansas, doing little damage to one an- 
 other, but a great deal to the property of the 
 inhabitants, who were roused to an irritation 
 
THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 19 
 
 which manifested itself in many disagreeable 
 forms. By various acts of incivility we were 
 made aware that a new feeling of hostility was 
 growing up against us, and I had to exercise con- 
 stant caution to avoid being drawn into ugly 
 quarrels. I should not have thought it desira- 
 ble to acquaint father with these causes of dis- 
 comfort, even if I had been able to do so, but he 
 had means of knowing almost everything that 
 went on ; and I received a message from him in 
 May, telling me that if he found we were likely 
 to be driven too hard, he would either get leave 
 of absence and come for us, or send a trusty mes- 
 senger to extricate us from our position and take 
 us to him. But he did not wish to decide upon 
 our removal unless it became a matter of grave 
 necessity. 
 
 From this time onward I was in constant dis- 
 quiet. I should not have felt so ill at ease if I 
 had been alone, for I had no doubt that I could 
 make my way out of the disturbed region at any 
 moment ; but I feared for those who looked to 
 me for preservation from peril — my young broth- 
 er, and my high-spirited sister, who never could 
 reconcile herself to the restraints of our position. 
 Scarcely a day passed without the appearance of 
 Southern guerilla bands ; and though I was dis- 
 inclined to believe that our neighbors would go 
 
20 THE MIDNIGHT WAENING 
 
 so far as to excite the animosity of these raiders 
 against us, it "was certain that some of their dem- 
 onstrations, as they rode wildly by, were any- 
 thing but pacific. 
 
 A little before sundown on the third of July, 
 1863, as I sat on our piazza, looking anxiously 
 up and down the Clarendon Eoad, a single rider 
 came in view, galloping at breakneck speed from 
 the direction of Helena. He checked his course 
 at the gateway, and I at once started down the 
 avenue to meet him ; but before I had half cross- 
 ed the lawn he was flying onward again, and I 
 lost sight of him as he entered a thicket about 
 half a mile distant. 
 
 Ten minutes later he came tearing back more 
 furiously than ever. I was now standing at the 
 gate, and as soon as he caught sight of me he 
 stopped short and began to examine me keenly. 
 
 " Are 3 t ou Lionel Claiborne ?" he inquired. 
 
 " That is my name," I replied. 
 
 "You answer the description. Tell me your 
 father's full name." 
 
 "Andrew J. Claiborne," I promptly responded. 
 
 " Exactly ; the ' J ' stands for Jackson, of 
 course— Andrew Jackson Claiborne." 
 
 This made me suspicious. My father's second 
 name was not Jackson, as it happened. 
 
 " "Why do you wish to know V I demanded. 
 
THE MIDNIGHT WAENING 21 
 
 " Perhaps I've a letter for you if you are the 
 right person," he answered, drawing a parcel 
 from his coat-pocket. 
 
 " I can't say how much I thank you," exclaimed 
 I. " We haven't heard from him since — " 
 
 " Since when ?" 
 
 " Since Clayton's raid, last May." 
 
 " Correct. And the 'J' stands for — " 
 
 " Julius," said I, without hesitation, this time ; 
 for a glimpse of father's handwriting on the en- 
 velope had put an end to most of my doubts. 
 
 " One more question, my lad. I am a friend 
 of Colonel Claiborne. If this is his house, there's 
 a recess in the library which should hold two 
 books. Tell me what they are, and I'll hand 
 you the document." 
 
 " One is our family Bible — " 
 
 " And the other ?" 
 
 I looked at the stranger steadily, and believed 
 that I saw honesty and good faith in his counte- 
 nance. Nevertheless I could not all at once 
 place myself entirely at the mercy of a man 
 whom I saw for the first time. 
 
 " If you are my father's friend," I said, " and 
 have heard from him about the contents of our 
 library, you must know that I cannot speak of 
 them to everybody . ; ' 
 
 " True enough ; I'll give you a start. To-mor- 
 
22 THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 
 
 row morning you will go through the ceremony 
 of hanging something above a big picture on the 
 wall. There; if that doesn't satisfy you I'm 
 afraid j^ou're hard to please." 
 
 " It does satisfy me. The book you refer to is 
 the Constitution of the United States." 
 
 "Here you are," cried the horseman, tossing 
 me the letter. "Read it carefully and act ac- 
 cordingly. I can't stop to talk, for the whole 
 State of Arkansas is broke loose, and, by Hanky, 
 a good part of it is at my heels. To-mor- 
 row — " 
 
 His sentence was cut short by the sharp crack 
 of a rifle, and he spurred away without another 
 word. Then there came a rattling discharge 
 from the upper road, and a dozen bullets flew 
 past, one of which caught the escaping rider's 
 hat and sent it rolling in the dust. 
 
 As I was picking it up a small detachment of 
 cavalry surrounded me, and the leader hurriedly 
 began to inquire who it was that had scampered 
 off in so desperate a hurry. 
 
 "You gave him no time to tell," I answered, 
 pointing to the hole through the hat. 
 
 "Did he say nothing at all?" asked the of- 
 ficer. 
 
 " He said the whole State of Arkansas was 
 after him, and he had no time to talk." 
 
THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 23 
 
 " Struck it about right, he did ;" and the cav- 
 alry leader laughed grimly. 4; Federal scout, I 
 reckon. We'll wait here for orders, boys." 
 
 Ill 
 
 I speedily learned that a good-sized army un- 
 der the Confederate general, Holmes, was close 
 at hand, advancing to attack the Union troops at 
 Helena without delay. Before midnight a num- 
 ber of regiments had marched by and taken po- 
 sition a short distance below our deserted gar- 
 dens. By nine o'clock in the evening the lower 
 part of the house was filled with Southern gen- 
 erals and their staffs, for whom I provided, with 
 the assistance of my brother and sister, such re- 
 freshment as our limited store would allow. 
 
 They were all unknown to me, and it probably 
 did not occur to them that any inhabitant of that 
 red-hot section could be other than a stanch 
 adherent of the Confederacy, though their con- 
 fidence was so overweening that I doubt if 
 anything would have made them feel the need 
 of cautious speech. The only member of the 
 party who appeared in the slightest degree un- 
 certain as to the result of the forthcoming battle 
 
24 THE MIDNIGHT WAENINO 
 
 was an elderly soldier, whom his associates ad- 
 dressed as General Price. The others were jubi- 
 lant in the belief that they would sweep the 
 handful of Yankees into the Mississippi before 
 the following day was half over. 
 
 I was scarcely noticed as I went from room to 
 room, listening intently while the plan of the 
 proposed engagement was freely discussed and 
 the certainty of victory loudly proclaimed. My 
 heart sank when I calculated the strength of the 
 combined Southern force. From what I heard 
 on all sides, it could not be less than 10,000. 
 Early in the winter Helena had been occupied 
 by a powerful body, under Curtis and others, but 
 this had since been reduced to a single division, 
 led by General Prentiss. The remainder had 
 gone farther south, to take part in the operations 
 against Vicksburg. I knew nothing positive as 
 to the present number of the garrison, but had 
 reason to believe, from reports brought me by 
 our negroes, that it could not be more than one- 
 fourth of the attacking army. 
 
 Was the Union commander prepared for so 
 unequal a contest? Was he, indeed, prepared 
 for any contest at this time? Several of the 
 Southern officers seemed hopeful of canying the 
 town by surprise, though General Price urged 
 them not to trust too blindly to that expectation. 
 
THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 25 
 
 Young and inexperienced as I was, I could un- 
 derstand that a great crisis was at hand, and 
 that, apart from public considerations, my own 
 poor little destiny, and that of my family, de- 
 pended largely upon the events of the next 
 twenty -four hours. 
 
 To what use could I put myself in this peril- 
 ous emergency ? I asked this question repeated- 
 ly, but found no answer. What could a boy of 
 sixteen do, however willing and eager ? What 
 would my father have me do, if he were here % 
 My father! I remembered suddenly, with a 
 pang of self-reproach, that, in the whirl of confu- 
 sion following the arrival of the soldiers, I had 
 not given a second thought to the missive re- 
 ceived some hours before. The absorbing inci- 
 dents of the evening had driven it from my mind, 
 and it lay unopened in the pocket where I had at 
 first hastily concealed it. 
 
 I lost no time in seeking my own chamber 
 and breaking the envelope. It contained only 
 these few lines : 
 
 " My dear Son, — On receipt of this you will 
 put the house in order and make ready for de- 
 parture, with Jennie and Julius, at the shortest 
 notice. If fortune favors our cause, of which all 
 of us who follow Grant are happily assured, you 
 
26 THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 
 
 will be summoned on or soon after the coming 1 
 Fourth of July. Meanwhile, I charge you to be 
 steadfast, and leave no duty to your country un- 
 fulfilled. Your loving 
 
 " Father." 
 
 " No duty unfulfilled !" What was my duty ? 
 Our household affairs needed no attention, for I 
 had so disposed them, weeks before, that we 
 could set forth without an hour's delay at the 
 cost of only a few trifling sacrifices. Since I 
 learned my father's wishes, in Ma}^ this had 
 been my chief concern, and the consciousness 
 that I had labored faithfully to execute his or- 
 ders was the chief consolation of my dreary ex- 
 istence. 
 
 What duty now remained? I sat on my cot- 
 bed and pondered for nearly an hour, when a 
 flash of intelligence came into my mind. It was 
 now eleven o'clock. Quickly descending to the 
 lower floor I entered the parlor in which the 
 Confederate commanders were still holding coun- 
 cil. To a young officer who seemed less busily 
 engaged than his seniors I addressed myself 
 thus: 
 
 " Can you tell me, sir, if your lines are outside 
 of our grounds? I have to make my rounds be- 
 fore going to bed." 
 
THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 27 
 
 " You look too tired for any more work, my 
 boy," he answered, kindly. "How far do you 
 wish to go ?" 
 
 "As far as both ends of the plantation. It 
 will not take very long, but I don't want to be 
 stopped on the way." 
 
 " If it is necessary — " 
 
 " I should feel that I was neglecting my prop- 
 er tasks if I failed." 
 
 " Very well ; 3 r ou shall have a pass." 
 
 He went to the table and spoke to one of his 
 superiors. 
 
 " Certainly, Captain Fairchild," was the reply. 
 " Make out the permit, and I will sign it." 
 
 " Please call on my brother for anything you 
 need," I said to Captain Fairchild, while he was 
 writing. " He is a little fellow, but you'll find 
 him bright for his age." 
 
 " Here is your pass ;" and the captain handed 
 me a bit of paper. Bending down, he whispered, 
 "The word for the night is ' Peraberton.' Be 
 careful how you use it." 
 
 "Thank you, sir," I replied. "I had better 
 not disturb you when I come back. I will go 
 straight to my room, unless I hear that you 
 want me." 
 
 I ran to my sister's chamber, gave her a longer 
 good-night kiss than usual, and told her to retire 
 
28 THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 
 
 as soon as possible and keep old Nurse Tilly 
 with her till the morning. To my brother Ju- 
 lius I said that I had to ride across our fields, and 
 might not return till very late ; but he was not 
 to make the least remark upon my absence, and 
 must simply do what he was bade by our vis- 
 itors, without entering into conversation upon 
 any subject. 
 
 In less than five minutes I was in the saddle, 
 and on the way to the north-eastern boundary 
 of our estate. I did not think it wise to cross 
 the patrol lines on the high-road, but determined 
 to follow the interior paths until I was well be- 
 yond the range of skirmishers. I had not a par- 
 ticle of difficulty in getting through. It amused 
 me, however, to observe that most of the sen- 
 tries, after examining my safe-conduct with elab- 
 orate scrutiny — turning it upsidedown, and even 
 staring at the back, where there was no writing 
 at all — allowed it to be evident that they could 
 not read, and insisted on having the password 
 into the bargain. Some of them mumbled that 
 it was too dark to see the written signature, 
 though the moon was shining with uncommon 
 brightness. 
 
 It was fortunate, therefore, that the good-nat- 
 ured captain had thought to provide me with 
 the double securit} r . I wondered at the readi- 
 
THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 29 
 
 ness with which the privilege of free egress had 
 been accorded, especially on the eve of a battle ; 
 but, as I have remarked, the Southerners were 
 too triumphantly confident of success to be gov- 
 erned by ordinary discretion. Still, I was sure 
 that if any of the party occupying our house 
 had known me, or if a single neighbor had been 
 present to tell the story of my father's fidelity 
 to the Union, I might as well have asked for the 
 command of General Holmes's army as for the 
 slightest civility from one of its leaders. 
 
 I must admit that I was not wholly satisfied 
 with the manner in which I was repaying Cap- 
 tain Fairchild's generous trust. That considera- 
 tion gave a very uneasy turn to my reflections. 
 But my father had never suffered me to doubt 
 that the demands of the country were first of all 
 entitled to obedience, or to believe that obliga- 
 tions of patriotism could be honorably evaded, 
 no matter how strongly they might conflict with 
 our selfish instincts of pride and vanity. I was 
 sure of his approval, and I remember that it ap- 
 peared to my overwrought imagination, in that 
 hour of enthusiasm, that his letter, so opportune- 
 ly delivered, had really come to me as a direct 
 token of admonition and encouragement. 
 
 As I had hoped, the outer picket line of the 
 Southerners was within the limits of our own 
 
30 THE MIDNIGHT WAENING 
 
 property. Having passed it at a secluded and 
 unexposed spot, I kept on in a north-easterly di- 
 rection for perhaps ten minutes, and then turned 
 southward, striking the high-road at a distance 
 of about ten miles from Helena. Thencefor- 
 ward I was at liberty to make up for wasted 
 time. It was but half an hour after midnight 
 when my gallant little mustang brought me in 
 view of the heavy earthworks that guarded the 
 town. Forgetting the requirements of prudence, 
 I was rushing onward at a headlong rate when 
 a shout from the wayside arrested me. 
 
 " Halt ! Who goes there ?" 
 
 " A friend ! a friend !" I cried, nervously, pull- 
 ing my pony to his haunches. 
 
 " Come on, friend, if you have the word," re- 
 sponded the sentinel. 
 
 "I haven't the word, but I bring important 
 news — very important." 
 
 " "Wait there," exclaimed the soldier, harshly, 
 coming out from shelter. " Get away from un- 
 der that tree into the light." 
 
 I did as I was commanded, and he moved 
 slowly forward, narrowly watching me at every 
 step. 
 
 " "Who are you V he asked, when he reached 
 my side. 
 
 " A friend of the Union," I replied. " I live 
 
THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 31 
 
 eleven miles out, on the Clarendon Road. Let 
 me go to General Prentiss." 
 
 The guard laughed softly. 
 
 " We'll see about that," he said, and began to 
 question me on various topics. 
 
 " You are taking a great risk," I warned him. 
 " Money can't measure the value of what I have 
 to tell your general." 
 
 He seemed impressed by this, and by my ear- 
 nestness, and led me with great caution to a 
 guard station not far away. The sergeant in 
 charge was quicker than his subordinate to ap- 
 preciate the situation, and I was immediately 
 blindfolded and taken, still on horseback, by a 
 winding course, to a spot which I guessed to be 
 in the centre of the fortification. Here I was 
 ordered to dismount, and the bandage was re- 
 moved from my eyes. 
 
 IV 
 
 Seated at a table in the open air, before a 
 large tent, was a person of evident rank, whom 
 I had once or twice seen passing our place, at- 
 tended by a small escort of cavalry. Several 
 aides stood by him. 
 
32 THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 
 
 "What have you to say, young man?" inquired 
 this officer, who wore no distinguishing uniform. 
 
 "I am speaking to General Prentiss, I pre- 
 sume," were my first words. 
 
 "Never mind that," he answered, curtly. "What 
 brings you here?" 
 
 " I beg your pardon, general ; I asked because 
 I have a great deal of information, and there 
 may not be time to tell it twice over." 
 
 "I will take care of that," he returned. "Be 
 quick with your story." 
 
 I then repeated, as concisely as I could, what I 
 had heard respecting the plan of Holmes's assault 
 upon the town. For a time the Union general 
 listened indifferently, but when I began to state 
 the particulars he showed more interest, and 
 directed one of his officers to take notes of my 
 report. 
 
 " Go over that again," he said, at one point. 
 " You tell me that you had these details from 
 General Holmes's own lips." 
 
 " Every word, sir ; either from him or those 
 next him in authority." 
 
 " They attack at daylight ?" 
 
 "At daylight. Price begins the battle by 
 storming the outer central works on the Ceme- 
 tery Eoad." 
 
 " Did you hear what his force is ?" 
 
THE MIDNIGHT WAKNING 33 
 
 " General Parsons has a brigade of 2000. He 
 marches upon the front. McKae, with about 
 1500, will try to get at the rear." 
 
 " Go on." 
 
 " An infantry body of 2000, under General Fa- 
 gan, will try to carry a redoubt at your left — 
 Fort Hindraan, they called it ; and Marmaduke, 
 who also has about 2000, will strike the fort on 
 Reiter's Hill — your right, I heard them say." 
 
 " How is that ? Marmaduke has nothing;- but 
 cavalry." 
 
 " Yes sir, so I understood. They are to be 
 dismounted for this fight. So is Walker's bri- 
 gade, a thousand strong. They will make for an 
 earthwork to your north, on the road to Stirling." 
 
 " You didn't mention that before," broke in a 
 stout, swarthy officer, jumping up from a camp- 
 stool and stepping towards me. 
 
 " I was just going to, sir, when the general 
 asked me to begin again." 
 
 " The river works are all right," said the gentle- 
 man whom I took to be General Prentiss to the 
 stout speaker. " The Tyler alone can take care 
 of them. ISTow, boy," he added, turning to me, 
 " what about the artillery ?" 
 
 " I didn't hear much about it, sir. I am sure 
 they have artillery, but I think — " 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 3 
 
34 THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 
 
 " My opinion goes for very little, sir." 
 
 " Let us have it, all the same." 
 
 " It struck me that they did not mean to rely 
 much on their artillery. They are dead sure 
 you cannot stand against their foot - soldiers. 
 They say they outnumber you four to one." 
 
 " They are mightily mistaken, then," exclaimed 
 the general, abruptly, and giving me a keen 
 glance. "What strength do they claim alto- 
 gether ?" 
 
 " Close upon 10,000, 1 judge." 
 
 " And all ready to clean us out at sunrise, and 
 cook us and eat us for breakfast, hey ?" 
 
 " They are very confident, all except General 
 Price. He wasn't so hot for the engagement. 
 He said there was no chance of a surprise." 
 
 " Did he send you to tell us that ?" said the 
 general, rising suddenly, and peering into my 
 eyes. 
 
 I felt that my face showed red as fire by the 
 light of the lantern which he caught up and held 
 before me. 
 
 " I have nothing more to say, sir," I answered, 
 with as much composure as I could command, 
 though I could not keep my voice from trembling. 
 " I came on an honest errand. I see it has been 
 a failure." 
 
 " "We shall know better about that to-morrow. 
 
THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 35 
 
 Orderly, look after this young man for the night. 
 Make him comfortable— and keep him close.'-' 
 
 " But I can't stop, sir," I said, in alarm. " I 
 must go back at once." 
 
 " Oh no ; we have no desire to lose your com- 
 pany. Simmons, here, will take care of you for 
 the present ; till after to-morrow, we will say." 
 
 He spoke ironically, perhaps with the purpose 
 of irritating me and throwing me off my guard ; 
 but, though bitterly mortified and angry at his 
 implied suspicion, I controlled my feelings for 
 the sake of those at home. 
 
 " I beg you, general, to consider my position," 
 I cried. "I have ridden eleven miles at mid- 
 night, and hazarded more than my own safety, 
 to bring you this news, because I believed it to be 
 my duty. I have left my young sister and brother 
 alone, surrounded by Southern troops. Do you 
 wish to reward me by exposing them to danger?" 
 
 " What do you mean by danger ?" he answered, 
 impatiently. " The Southern troops are not 
 likely to injure a boy and girl of their own 
 soil." 
 
 " Don't say that, sir. They have no idea whose 
 house they are in, but if any informer should 
 breathe a word of my father's record, his chil- 
 dren's chance would be a hard one. I must be 
 there to protect them." 
 
36 TIIE MIDNIGHT WARNING 
 
 " I'm afraid you are trying to play too clever 
 a game, young man. Who is your father V 
 
 "Colonel Andrew Claiborne. He is serving 
 with General Grant." 
 
 The officer was already moving away, but as 
 he caught the name he stopped short, and I 
 noticed that all of those who were grouped around 
 the table rose from their seats and drew near me. 
 
 " Dan Claiborne ? Incredible ! I never heard 
 that any part of his family stayed behind in 
 Arkansas." 
 
 "We have been living at home, three of us, since 
 he entered your service, last July." 
 
 " How could he leave you in so frightful a 
 situation ?" 
 
 " He had to go; he couldn't stand it any longer. 
 During the first year of the war, my mother — 
 but you don't care for this, sir." 
 
 " Indeed I do, my lad. I care for an}^thing 
 that concerns Colonel Claiborne and those who 
 bear his name. Speak freely." 
 
 " My mother was so ill that he was bound not 
 to forsake her. It was a dreadful life the people 
 made him lead, for I believe he was the only 
 lo}^al man in the whole county ; but he held on 
 till after her death, and then went away, leaving 
 me in charge of everything. He couldn't take 
 us with him, and yet he couldn't stay." 
 
THE MIDNIGHT WAKNING 37 
 
 " And how have you fared ?" 
 
 " Not so very badly, sir. I have had to keep 
 myself mighty quiet, and of course all our old 
 friends had given us up from the beginning. But 
 it might have been worse. You won't stop me 
 now, general?" 
 
 "Bless my soul, no; not if you wish to go. 
 Yet — wait a moment, and don't take offence at 
 what I am obliged to do. Orderly, find the mes- 
 senger who brought the despatches from Yicks- 
 burg, two days ago. Bring him immediately. 
 He asked permission, yesterday afternoon," con- 
 tinued the general to his companions, " to ride 
 out on the Clarendon Eoad and reconnoitre. Let 
 us see what it was all about." 
 
 In less than a minute, it seemed, I saw before 
 me the man who had delivered my father's letter 
 on the previous evening. His face brightened 
 with a smile of recognition. 
 
 "You appear to know this youngster," the gen- 
 eral said. 
 
 " It's Colonel Claiborne's son, by Hanky !" re- 
 plied the new-comer. " I'm right glad to meet 
 him again. I have a message for him from his 
 father." 
 
 " That is sufficient. I beg your pardon, my 
 young friend, for doubting you a little bit, and I 
 thank you heartily for the good turn you have 
 
38 THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 
 
 done us. Gentlemen," he remarked to his offi- 
 cers, "the report we have heard takes a very 
 definite value now. You will oblige me, Mr. 
 Claiborne, by clearing up one or two details, and 
 then you are free to do what you deem best." 
 
 I had never been called "Mr. Claiborne" in 
 my life, and it amuses me to remember that I 
 was enough of a child to be as absurdly elated by 
 this trivial puff of distinction as I was gratified 
 by the general's assurance of confidence. After 
 holding me in conversation about a quarter of an 
 hour longer, he bade me good-night, expressing 
 an earnest hope that before the week was over 
 he should be able to welcome me to his quarters 
 under circumstances widely different from those 
 of this unceremonious flying interview. 
 
 The messenger from Mississippi asked and ob- 
 tained leave to accompany me a part of the way 
 as I rode homeward. He had much to tell me 
 about my father and the position of trust and 
 honor to which he had risen in the Union service, 
 and some wholesome counsel to give for my pres- 
 ent guidance. 
 
 "These wild Western rebs are a heap too brash," 
 he said, just before turning back to camp. " Old 
 Holmes is going to get an awful licking to-mor- 
 row, in spite of the big crowd he has at his back. 
 I wish you were out of these diggings, my boy. 
 
THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 39 
 
 The Johnnies are like a pack of wild animals, 
 after a defeat, and if they had the least concep- 
 tion of what you've been up to — well, you know 
 all about that ; it's no use talking over ugly pos- 
 sibilities. Take good care of yourself. If ever 
 you needed prudence you need it now, as sure as 
 my name is Jake Rumford. Your father has it 
 in his mind to come up for you, as soon as Grant 
 scoops in Yicksburg, and that's only a question 
 of days. But this is going to be a scary region 
 for young folks of your training, with a runaway 
 secesh army howling and rioting over the land. 
 My advice to you, if you're not under positive 
 orders to stay, is to seize the first chance and get 
 over to Helena with your brother and sister. 
 Your work this night gives you a claim that our 
 people can't overlook, and the general will be 
 glad to see you safe down the river to Colonel 
 Claiborne. Think it over ; think hard. You've 
 given yourself a start that ought to open a career 
 for you. Don't spoil the opportunity. Let your 
 father have something to rejoice at, not to grieve 
 over." 
 
 The good-hearted scout shook me warmly by 
 the hand, and I made the quickest possible time 
 between the outlying pickets of the opposing 
 forces. 
 
40 THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 
 
 V 
 
 On nearing our plantation I took care to choose 
 a different place for crossing the lines from that 
 at which I had passed out. The guards looked 
 sharply at me, but did not question my right to 
 be admitted, nor delay me longer than was nec- 
 essary to spell out the permit. I went through 
 the fields, far beyond the mansion, making a wide 
 circuit in order to approach the gateway from 
 the upper road. When I rode through it, at four 
 o'clock, Holmes's troops were already stirring. 
 Dismounting in the stable-yard, I hunted up old 
 Ptolemy, and, cautioning him to say nothing 
 about my long ramble, sent him to call my 
 brother out to me. From Julius I learned that 
 Jennie and he had gone through the night with- 
 out disturbance in their part of the house, al- 
 though the occupants of the lower story had 
 been rather more lively than was agreeable. Af- 
 ter giving him some necessary instructions, and 
 sending word to Jennie that she had better keep 
 to her chamber until I could speak with her, I 
 proceeded, without going in-doors, to busy my- 
 self in the open air. 
 
THE MIDNIGHT WAKNING 41 
 
 Captain Fairchild was the first of our military 
 lodgers to make his appearance. He greeted me 
 pleasantly, remarking that I looked as if I had 
 not slept, and asking if it had been a hard night 
 for me. 
 
 " You see, sir," I answered, evasively and 
 with a good deal of awkwardness — for it went 
 against me to deceive so kindly a man — " we 
 never before had so many soldiers about the 
 house, and it falls on me to look after every- 
 thing." 
 
 " Well," he said, " you can take plenty of rest 
 after we go. You won't be disturbed again. 
 We shall sleep in Helena to-night, and for some 
 time to come." 
 
 " Then I suppose you call it a dead certainty 
 — to-day's fight." 
 
 " You may reckon on that," he replied, laugh- 
 ing gayly. " This will be Prentiss's second sur- 
 render, unless he runs faster than he did at Pitts- 
 burg Landing, and gets aboard of a gunboat 
 before we can catch him." 
 
 "Til say good-bye, then, captain; probably 
 this is the last time I shall see you." 
 
 " Oh, I hope not," he said, quickly ; " I would 
 like to ride out for a call, now and then, if — if 
 it will not be displeasing to your sister." 
 
 I looked at him in surprise. What in the 
 
42 THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 
 
 ■world had my sister to do with the coming or 
 staying away of this young officer ? 
 
 " I took the liberty, while you were absent," 
 he added, "of sending her a message by your 
 brother. Some of our people were a little noisy 
 in the night, and I wanted her to know that she 
 should not suffer the slightest personal incon- 
 venience, no matter how much patriotic hilarity 
 there might be about the house. I considered 
 that this was due to the young lady whose hos- 
 pitality we had rather abruptly demanded." 
 
 This puzzled me more and more. To hear 
 Jennie called a young lady, and spoken of as if 
 she were the head of the establishment, was even 
 more odd than to be myself addressed as Mr. 
 Claiborne by an officer in the opposing army. 
 She was sixteen, to be sure, and well grown ; 
 but, after all, she was only a girl. 
 
 " It was very good of you, sir," I said, think- 
 ing that these military gentlemen on both sides 
 had exceedingly polite manners when they chose 
 to be agreeable. 
 
 " Not at all, not at all. I noticed, early in the 
 evening, that she was a lady of very — very supe- 
 rior intelligence, and — and great charm of man- 
 ner. I was much concerned for her comfort. I 
 wanted her to know she was entirely safe." 
 
 I stared at him so hard that he probably sup- 
 
THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 43 
 
 posed I was too stupid to comprehend him ; for 
 he went on, in a very elaborate and precise style, 
 to state that it was because he feared his freedom 
 might have offended her that he desired to pay 
 his respects, at some future day, and make his 
 excuses. 
 
 "Why, how could she be offended by an act 
 of courtesy ?" I asked, bluntly. 
 
 " You think not ? AVell, I trust you are right. 
 I should be sorry — I wonder if — I mean that it 
 would gratify me extremely if I could be per- 
 mitted to take leave of her before I go ; but I 
 suppose that is out of the question, at such an 
 hour." 
 
 " Dear me !" I exclaimed ; " if that is all, I'll 
 call her at once — or perhaps you had better come 
 with me." I felt that I owed him something, 
 after all that had occurred, and would have 
 gone a good deal out of my way to please him ; 
 but what possessed him to make a point of tak- 
 ing leave of Jennie at four o'clock in the morn- 
 ing, I could not imagine. He had bidden me 
 good-bye, which any one would think ought to 
 have been enough. 
 
 However, Jennie came readily out of her room, 
 looking a trifle feverish, I regretted to observe, 
 and listened quite properly, with her eyes cast 
 down, while Captain Fairchild spoke to her in 
 
44 THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 
 
 so low a tone that I did not catch a word. 
 " Good gracious !" I thought to myself, " how 
 fast she is growing up ! It never struck me be- 
 fore." She bowed, just like a little woman in- 
 stead of a child, and the captain uncovered his 
 head to her as deferentially and with as much 
 ceremony as if she were a queen and he were on 
 dress parade; though in fact he had no idea as 
 to who she was, and probably had not even heard 
 her name. They didn't talk long, but she must 
 have said something nice and clever — Jennie had 
 the knack of making pretty speeches — for he 
 laughed softly when he left her, and kept on 
 smiling all the way down-stairs and across the 
 lawn. 
 
 As soon as he had finally gone, I hurried back 
 and urged my sister to get to bed and nurse her- 
 self. She was quite flushed, and her e} T es were 
 dancing so flightily that I recommended a dose 
 of quinine to quiet her nerves. She tossed her 
 head and said something that sounded like " Hi- 
 diculous-I-never-how-can-you-Lionel !" — running 
 the words all together without a break any- 
 where, and winding up her incoherent remark 
 with a hysterical giggle that made me more 
 anxious than ever. I asked if the commotion 
 and worry had not been too much for her, but 
 she declared she liked it, and insisted on hearing 
 
THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 45 
 
 everything that Captain Fairchild had said about 
 her. I told her how he had called her a young 
 lady, and all that, and begged to know if she 
 could make anything out of it. 
 
 " Lionel," she answered, " if you should try to 
 count the geese we have on the place, you never 
 could get the number right. You would be per- 
 fectly sure to leave out one— and the biggest of 
 the flock." 
 
 I don't repeat that as an example of Jennie's 
 pretty sayings. She did not favor me with 
 these as often as she did other people ; per- 
 haps she thought they would be Avasted on a 
 brother. But she was a fine girl, for all that, 
 and one to be proud of, as I shall very soon 
 show. 
 
 Before five o'clock the house and grounds were 
 all clear of strangers, and the army was winding 
 its wa} 7 towards the river. "We sat down to 
 breakfast, and I gave an account of my mid- 
 night adventures, to which Jennie, who had fort- 
 unately recovered her steadiness without taking 
 either repose or medicine, listened attentively 
 and thoughtfully, while Julius was thrown into 
 such excitement that he could scarcely swallow 
 his food. 
 
 " I am glad you did it," said my sister. " You 
 could not have forgiven yourself if you had let 
 
46 THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 
 
 the chance go by. I know what father will 
 think. But there is one thing that grieves me." 
 
 " What is that, Jennie ?" 
 
 " It is a pity you had to deceive the only gen- 
 tleman who took pains to treat us handsomely. 
 I wish it had been some one else." 
 
 " That hurts me, too," I replied ; " but there 
 was no other way." 
 
 "I shall not dare to look him in the face 
 again," pursued my sister. 
 
 " You will hardly have occasion to," I said, 
 wishing to relieve her; but she did not seem 
 grateful for this attempt at consolation, and re- 
 minded me that Fairchild had distinctly an- 
 nounced his intention of coming to see us. 
 
 " Why, Jennie, he thinks the Northerners 
 are going to be beaten. I don't believe any 
 such thing. And if Holmes is driven back, 
 we may not remain here a week longer, you 
 know." 
 
 Not long after this we heard the sound of can- 
 non booming at a distance. The attack had be- 
 gun. Heavy clouds of smoke rose in the east, 
 and we watched them with anxious minds and 
 grave faces until near nine o'clock, when we be- 
 thought us of the duty belonging to the day. 
 For the first time, we were separated from father 
 on a Fourth of July, but we knew what would 
 
. THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 47 
 
 be done if he were here, and what he would wish 
 us to do in his absence. 
 
 We went to the library, which had seldom 
 been used during the past year, and our hearts 
 were filled with tender recollections of the dear 
 parent who had constrained himself to leave us 
 only because his conscience told him he would 
 be a coward if he stayed. I placed the worn 
 copy of the Constitution where he had laid it 
 on the two preceding anniversaries, and Jennie 
 brought in the old flag. "We did not immediate- 
 ly hang it, however, being interrupted by Ptol- 
 emy, who came shuffling through the hall to an- 
 nounce that a great crowd was in sight on the 
 lower road, half hidden by the dust it raised, but 
 evidently coming towards us with a swiftness 
 which he could not understand. 
 
 " They are running away," I cried, exultantl} r . 
 " Thank Heaven, they are whipped !" 
 
 It was a hasty conclusion, but it turned out to 
 be correct. The assault had failed at every 
 point. The best fighting on the Southern side, 
 we subsequently learned, had been done by 
 Price, the one general who had doubted the 
 wisdom of giving battle. The others had con- 
 tributed no effective support, and by nine o'clock 
 the entire army was in retreat. 
 
 We ran to the front of the house, and were 
 
48 THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 
 
 soon able to distinguish the mass of fugitives 
 swarming in our direction, without order or 
 method, defiant of discipline, more like a mob 
 of maniacs than a body of reasoning beings. I 
 ordered the negroes to keep themselves carefully 
 hidden, and, after closing all the doors, hurried 
 up-stairs with Jennie and Julius to the garret, 
 from a window of which we watched the frantic 
 throng as it whirled by. 
 
 VI 
 
 TnE horror of that scene passes description. I 
 have heard, and I believe, that it is only under 
 the strain of a blind and senseless panic that hu- 
 manity becomes utterly degraded, casts away all 
 its noblest attributes, and sinks to the level of 
 the brute creation. The rabble that writhed and 
 fought and raved in mad endeavors to elude a 
 purely imaginary pursuer was composed mainly 
 of brave men, yet no quality of manliness, far 
 less of courage, was visible in the frenzy of its 
 furious flight. The sole impulse was to escape 
 at any cost, reckless of decency and insensible to 
 shame, from an absurdly fictitious danger ; and 
 to compass this end, the most hideous and re- 
 
THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 49 
 
 volting excesses were resorted to. In their de- 
 lirium of terror these half-crazed beings, united 
 an hour before, by ties of friendship and by de- 
 votion to a cause which they held sacred, were 
 guilty of atrocities which would have shamed 
 wild beasts. 
 
 For half an hour the disgraceful rout continued, 
 until the greater part of the army had gone by. 
 Their groundless fears had protected us thus far 
 from intrusion, and we rejoiced to believe that 
 we were now free from molestation. We did 
 not know that there may often be more mischief 
 in a single straggler than in a host of scared and 
 swift-footed runaways. 
 
 We descended to the lower floor, Jennie going 
 straight to the library, while I went forth, taking 
 Julius with me, to find the servants and set them 
 at work. As I entered the house again, I was 
 startled by a succession of heavy knocks at the 
 front door. Bidding my brother keep silence, I 
 ran around to the piazza, where I found a tall, 
 gaunt man, evidently a cavalry private of the 
 retreating force, hammering with the butt end of 
 a pistol against the panels. He glared at me 
 fiercely, and cried out : 
 
 " Open the door here ! What do you mean by 
 keeping people out at a time like this 2" 
 
 " Are you wounded V I asked. 
 
50 THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 
 
 ""Wounded — no. Hungry and thirsty — yes. 
 And tired. Open, or I'll burst in, double quick." 
 
 "No need of that," I said, quietly; and I called 
 to Julius to take down the fastenings, which he 
 promptly did. 
 
 " Whar's your whiskey?" was the fellow's first 
 demand, as he strode into the hall, his long sabre 
 clashing noisily after him. 
 
 " I have no whiskey to give you," I replied. 
 " You can have some coffee if your people have 
 left any, and something to eat." 
 
 " None of that !" he shouted. " Bring along 
 the whiskey, or I'll soon find it." 
 
 " I've told you there is none for you." 
 
 He let loose a blast of wild words, and started 
 to explore the premises. After looking into the 
 parlor and discovering nothing to his fancy, he 
 pushed on towards the library. 
 
 " Don't go there !" I exclaimed ; " that room is 
 private." 
 
 " Aye, that's whar the liquor is," he retorted, 
 flinging open the door and disclosing a scene the 
 sight of which sent a chill of dismay through me. 
 
 My sister stood at the top of a step-ladder, fes- 
 tooning our cherished flag around the picture- 
 frame. She uttered a faint cry, and sprang to 
 the floor. The trooper cast his eyes savagely 
 around for what he was in search of, and did not 
 
THE MIDNIGHT WAKNING 51 
 
 at once recognize the Stars and Stripes hanging 
 overhead. Presently, however, he glanced up- 
 ward, and with a yell of rage pointed to the de- 
 tested banner. 
 
 "Ho, that's the game, is it? Making ready 
 for the Yanks! Git up thar, gal, and haul it 
 down. Sharp's the word !" 
 
 My sister looked at me without stirring or ut- 
 tering a sound. 
 
 " Down with it, I tell ye, or I'll set the house 
 afire." 
 
 "Pay no attention to him, Jennie," I said. 
 " Take Julius away and leave him to me." 
 
 " Not a step," he roared, as he cocked his big 
 six-shooter and flourished it threateningly, "Pull 
 down that rag and fetch it to me." 
 
 "Do you come here to show fight to a girl 
 after running away from Union wen ?" I sneered 
 — very foolishly, no doubt, as I had no weapon 
 and was wholly in his power. 
 
 " I fight with people who fly that flag — men, 
 women, and children ; and I mostly kill 'em 
 when I can. You stay whar you are, gal. This 
 young bantam shall do the job. Now," he called 
 out furiously to me, "fetch it here, unless you 
 want a bullet through your skull !" 
 
 He looked and spoke as if he were in dead 
 earnest, and Julius, who had till now stood 
 
52 THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 
 
 dumb with fright, made a spring towards the 
 hall. 
 
 " I'll get the boys in," he gasped, breathlessly. 
 
 " Hold up, young 'un. Thar's a bullet for you, 
 too, if you budge another inch." 
 
 " What shall I do, Lionel V cried my little 
 brother. 
 
 " Do nothing, Jule ; let this man deal with me." 
 
 " Jes' so ; I'll deal with ye. Up ye go, before 
 I count three, or I'll scatter your brains over the 
 carpet !" 
 
 He pointed the revolver straight at my head. 
 Jennie made a movement as if she would rush 
 between him and me, but I put up my hand to 
 check her. She was as white as a corpse, and 
 her whole body shook so that she could scarcely 
 stand. 
 
 " Shall I — shall I take it down ?" she stam- 
 mered. 
 
 " Never think of such a thing," I replied, with 
 all the energy I could command. " Remember 
 who first hung it there." 
 
 "Forgive me, Lionel; it was for you I asked." 
 
 A torrent of imprecations burst from the ruf- 
 fian's lips. " Take your last chance," he scream- 
 ed. "Now— Oner 
 
 Julius began to sob piteously, and my sister 
 caught at the desk to save herself from falling. 
 
THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 53 
 
 "Two!!" 
 
 " Tell father, Jennie — " I could say no more, 
 for a lump seemed to rise in my throat and 
 choke me. I bent my head, and waited. 
 
 "Three!!!" 
 
 A crash and a blinding flame followed, but I 
 felt no hurt. A shriek from Jennie made me 
 look first at her. She was gazing with dilated 
 eyes upon the assassin, and I, turning about, saw 
 with infinite relief that he was struggling in the 
 clutch of a man taller and more powerfully 
 built than himself. It was Captain Fairchild, 
 who had entered almost at the instant the shot 
 was fired, barely in time to strike the pistol aside 
 and save me from a horrible death. 
 
 The soldier, though active and sinewy, was no 
 match for his new antagonist, who speedily 
 wrenched the weapon from his hand, and with a 
 blow in the chest sent him staggering across the 
 room. 
 
 "What is the meaning of this outrage?" said 
 Fairchild. His features were quivering with 
 wrath. 
 
 " I didn't see your uniform, captain," answered 
 the desperado. " Took ye for another of these 
 pison varmints." 
 
 " How dare you draw your pistol in a private 
 dwelling ?" 
 
54 THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 
 
 " Private dwelling ! You'll find it's a nest of 
 white-livered traitors. Jest lift your eyes to 
 that thar wall." 
 
 The captain looked, and his face darkened. 
 
 " This is a surprise to me," he said, with obvi- 
 ous displeasure. "But it is not a matter for a 
 subordinate to pass upon. Who made } t ou judge 
 — and executioner ?" 
 
 " You see, cap, it kind o' riled me to think of 
 them critters spreadin' out that pesky banner to 
 curry favor with the Yanks jest after they've 
 got the best of us, for once. I ordered the boy 
 to haul it down, and he refused. I've got no 
 marcy for a boy like that." 
 
 " Do you know anything else to his discredit ?" 
 
 " No," drawled the soldier ; " can't say I do — 
 not to be sure of. Seems to me I've seen him 
 somewhar before, but I don't exactly fix him. 
 Better let me take him in hand, cap." 
 
 " Certainly not, sir. I shall do what is neces- 
 sary." 
 
 " Guess I must have a finger in it," persisted 
 the fellow, insolently. " I reckon I'm not under 
 your orders, anyway ; and I've set my mind on 
 giving this wriggling sarpent what he desarves." 
 
 " Stand back, you scoundrel, or I'll teach you 
 what discipline is, with your own weapon. As 
 for you, young man, I thought better of you 
 
THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 55 
 
 than this. It's a poor business to turn rene- 
 gade when your friends are in misfortune, and 
 to bid for your enemy's grace with false flat- 
 teries." 
 
 At this unjust imputation Jennie sprang val- 
 iantly forward. 
 
 " Captain Fairchild," she exclaimed, " I will 
 not hear you accuse my brother so unfairly, so 
 ungenerously. You spoke of discipline a moment 
 ago. Well, sir, we believe in discipline. There 
 is only one authority that this household is 
 bound to respect. We have not waited till the 
 day of your defeat. Lionel is under orders to 
 unfold the Union flag every Fourth of July, as 
 it always has been unfolded; and I would not 
 own him if he disobeyed !" 
 
 "I should be glad to accept your statement, 
 miss, but I know of no authority that can over- 
 ride the laws of the Southern Confederacy." 
 
 "Then I can tell you, sir, that my father's 
 children are governed by his instructions alone." 
 
 " Indeed," said the captain, apparently unde- 
 cided whether to smile or to be vexed at her 
 impetuosity. " May I ask who your father is ? 
 You forget that I have not the honor to know 
 your name." 
 
 " He is Colonel Andrew Claiborne." 
 
 Fairchild started back as if he had been 
 
56 THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 
 
 struck. " Claiborne, the Unionist !" he cried. 
 " Are you telling me the truth ?" 
 
 " It is ray habit, sir," answered Jennie, loftily. 
 
 " Yes, yes ; pardon me, but this is a shock. 
 Who could have foreseen such an extraordinary 
 circumstance ?" 
 
 " Hold hard, captain," broke in the lawless 
 cavalryman, who had been eying me viciously 
 for some minutes. " I have spotted this 'yar 
 young reptyle at last. I can locate him now. 
 He went down through our lines towards He- 
 lena last night, Avhile I was on picket. I let him 
 go by, myself. He had the word and a written 
 pass." 
 
 The captain's look of reproach and scorn stung 
 me beyond endurance. "And I gave them to 
 him," I heard him mutter, with something that 
 sounded like a groan. 
 
 " We're in a trap !" the trooper howled. " It's 
 as plain as daylight. We are surrounded by a 
 gang of spies, and this house is their headquar- 
 ters. Look alive, cap. Follow my lead, and get 
 out of this like lightning." 
 
THE MIDNIGHT WAKNING 57 
 
 VII 
 
 He darted away before he had finished speak- 
 ing, but Fairchild gave no heed to the warning 
 or the invitation. He remained motionless for 
 a short space, fixing his eyes alternately upon 
 Jennie and me. At last he spoke, and what he 
 said cut like a knife. 
 
 " It seems, young man, that you rewarded my 
 indulgence by a base betrayal of trust. It may 
 be that we owe this horrible disaster to my im- 
 prudence and your deception. I don't doubt 
 that I should be justified in taking your life, but 
 I spare you because the punishment would partly 
 fall on one — on those who cling to you with af- 
 fection ; and I do not lift my hand against wom- 
 en and children. To you, Miss Claiborne, I will 
 say that though your presence protects your 
 brother from the consequences of his crime, I am 
 no longer under an illusion as regards yourself. 
 The esteem of an honest man cannot be given to 
 a girl who I know is the sister of a spy, and who, 
 since she does not blush for his infamy, is per- 
 haps herself a — " 
 
 " Don't speak that word," I broke in, before he 
 
58 THE MIDNIGHT WAENING 
 
 could end his sentence ; " not to her. You'll re- 
 gret it as long as you live, if you do. Call me 
 whatever you like, but don't put any vile name 
 on my sister." 
 
 " I am glad to be anything that Lionel is," said 
 my brave Jennie ; " and what he has done I 
 would do, with all my heart and soul !" 
 
 The dear girl tried to be firm, but the strain was 
 too much for her, and in the very effort to hold 
 herself erect and defiant before the young officer, 
 she tottered and would have fallen to the ground 
 if he had not leaped forward and caught her, 
 fainting, in his arms. A single look at her in- 
 sensible face wrought a great change in him. 
 There was not a trace of his haughty disdain left, 
 as he turned appealingly to me. 
 
 " I am a cowardly brute !" he cried. " What 
 shall I do?" 
 
 " She must be taken to her room," I said. 
 " Julius, come and help me." 
 
 " Let me, let me," pleaded the captain. " Stay, 
 I am stronger than both of you together. I will 
 carry her alone." 
 
 Without waiting for an answer he lifted her 
 as easily as if she had been an infant, and was 
 half-way up the staircase before I had clearly 
 taken in his purpose. 
 
 He remembered where to go, and when I 
 
THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 59 
 
 reached Jennie's chamber he had already de- 
 posited her in an arm-chair, and -was regarding 
 her with painful solicitude. 
 
 " If I have hurt her," he murmured, " I have 
 hurt myself a thousand times worse." 
 
 As if to reassure him, Jennie opened her eyes 
 and surveyed us. 
 
 " It is nothing," she whispered ; " only my 
 foolish weakness." 
 
 The captain would have had more to say if he 
 had not been interrupted by a loud bustle below. 
 Footsteps were heard through the passages, doors 
 were opened and shut violently, and a confused 
 clamor of voices announced the arrival of a con- 
 siderable party. 
 
 Yin 
 
 Who could they be, these new and perhaps 
 dangerous visitors? As we listened in anxious 
 suspense, a cry rose distinctly above the tumult. 
 
 " Claiborne, Claiborne ! Are you anywhere in 
 hearing?" 
 
 The sound of my name reassured me. " Here 
 am I !" I shouted, without reflecting that the 
 summons might come from an enemy and not 
 from a friend. But the immediate response 
 
60 THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 
 
 showed that my instinct had not led me 
 astray. 
 
 " Come on, boys, he's safe, thank the Lord ;" 
 and we heard a scuffle upon the staircase. 
 
 " Don't let any one come here," exclaimed 
 Jennie ; " not for the world !" 
 
 I saw my error and sprang to obey her, but it 
 was too late. A crowd of Union soldiers poured 
 into the room, headed by Itumford, the scout, 
 who set up a cheer of delight on seeing me. 
 
 " Hurrah, boys ; all's well now. I've been 
 scared to death about you, my lad. Thought the 
 beggars had snaked you off with them. It's a 
 comfort to set eyes on you. And, by hanky, 
 you've got a prisoner, too !" 
 
 " No, no," I protested ; " nothing of the kind. 
 This is—" 
 
 " This is a rebel captain," said Kumford ; "and 
 nothing else but a prisoner." 
 
 I did not dare to look at Jennie, for I saw that 
 Fairchild had straightened himself up as stiff as 
 a ramrod, and put on the same hard and con- 
 temptuous expression that his face had worn a 
 few minutes before in the library. 
 
 " Do I understand," he inquired, addressing 
 Kumford in a tone of rasping sarcasm, " that I 
 owe my capture to this young — Southern — gen- 
 tleman ?" 
 
THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 61 
 
 " That's about the size of it," replied the scout, 
 with cheerful alacrity. 
 
 " It isn't true," I declared, indignantly. " I 
 have no hand in it at all." 
 
 " "Well, we'll allow you the credit of it, any- 
 how," said Rumford. " I want to make this 
 Fourth o' July a big day for you, Claiborne." 
 
 " You'll make it a day of misery — " 
 
 " For the rebs," chuckled Rumford. " We've 
 done that pretty well, already." 
 
 " But this officer—" 
 
 " Pray say no more, Mr. Claiborne," said Fair- 
 child, peremptorily and very coldly. "I accept 
 the fortune of war, even when the game is un- 
 fairly played against me. I am a prisoner, as 
 your friend states, no matter by what trickery I 
 am caught. I am at his disposal. All I ask is 
 that he will get me out of this house as quickly 
 as possible." 
 
 I heard Jennie moan plaintively, but this time 
 Captain Fairchild gave no sign of relenting, and 
 seemed unconscious that she was near him. 
 
 " I don't know that we are bound to consult 
 your wishes," said Rumford. " We expect to re- 
 main here overnight, if young Claiborne will 
 take us in, and you will have to stay likewise. 
 Tomorrow we'll rattle you back to Helena in 
 short order. We want you to go, too, Claiborne 
 
62 THE MIDNIGHT WARNING. 
 
 — you and your folks. That's what I'm here for. 
 General Prentiss strongly advises it. He sent 
 me with a squad of horse to keep mischief 
 away from you till you were safe inside his 
 lines." 
 
 "I don't know," I answered; "I ean't say. 
 My sister is all worn out by the agitation of last 
 night and this morning. She may not be well 
 enough to move." 
 
 " If she's sick, the more reason why she should 
 get out of this ranch. Beg pardon, miss, for not 
 saluting you before. No offence, I hope ; in these 
 hot times we often seem to be rude when our in- 
 clinations are all the other way, Upon my word, 
 you ought not to tarry here twenty-four hours 
 longer. If you're not strong enough to ride, we'll 
 rig up a litter, and the boys that you select to 
 carry you down to the river will thank their 
 stars for the privilege." 
 
 " Let us talk about it by - and - by," I said. 
 "Just now we will leave her to get over her 
 fatigue." 
 
 " Of course. Beg pardon again, miss, for plung- 
 ing in here so unceremoniously, but I was in a 
 fever to get on your brother's trail. Come, boys, 
 we're in the way here. As for this prop and 
 pillar of the Confed, we'll have to put him under 
 guard. Or perhaps we can make it easier for 
 
THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 63 
 
 you, captain, if you give us your parole not to 
 slip away." 
 
 " I ask no favors, sir," replied Fairchild. 
 
 "Just as you please. Call it a favor to us, if 
 you like. You can make it more comfortable for 
 everybody, all round." 
 
 " What is it that you wish ?" 
 
 "I propose that you give us your word, as an 
 officer and a gentleman, that you will not try 
 to escape. Then we'll show you every considera- 
 tion we possibly can." 
 
 The captain pondered, and looked here and 
 there, undecidedly. I caught his eye, and con- 
 trived to signify, by a rapid shake of my head, 
 that I was emphatically opposed to the suggest- 
 ion. He appeared surprised, but after hesitating 
 a moment longer, announced that he was not 
 prepared to make the required pledge. 
 
 " I cannot afford to throw away a chance," he 
 said. "No one knows what will happen. Our 
 troops may rally and renew the attack. There 
 may be a dozen parties, larger than yours, within 
 rifle-shot of us. So long as I see a possibility of 
 rescue, I will not bind myself." 
 
 Rumf ord almost cackled with derision. " There 
 isn't an organized body a dozen strong between 
 this and Clarendon," he declared. " Every man- 
 jack of your army, except a few like yourself, is 
 
64 THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 
 
 on the dead run for the middle of the State. 
 They are the fastest Arkansas travellers on rec- 
 ord. But 3^011 shall suit yourself. You only put 
 us to a little extra inconvenience, and I needn't 
 remind you what the penalty will be if you make 
 the least attempt to cut loose." 
 
 The captain bowed, and it was arranged that 
 he should be lodged in one of the rooms on the 
 second story, and a guard stationed at the door 
 with orders to treat him civilly if he kept quiet, 
 but to shoot him at the first sign of intention to 
 break away. I suggested my father's chamber, 
 saying that it was now unoccupied, and could be 
 used as a place of confinement without incom- 
 moding anybody. I had, however, another and 
 a very different reason for making this proposal, 
 which I shall shortly take pleasure in explaining. 
 
 This matter having been disposed of, I went 
 below with Rumford, who told me that several 
 officers, including possibly the general in com- 
 mand, were making ready to start down the Mis- 
 sissippi as soon as news should be received of the 
 fall of Vicksburg, which was hourly expected. 
 Transportation was offered to me and mine, and 
 it was hoped that we would make our prepara- 
 tions rapidly and report ourselves in Helena on 
 the morning of the fifth. 
 
 " You ought to be there now," added the jo- 
 
THE MIDNIGHT WAKNESTG 65 
 
 vial scout, " celebrating the Fourth with the boys 
 in blue. I suppose you have forgotten there is 
 such a day, out in this benighted wilderness." 
 
 " Do you think so ?" I inquired. " Come with 
 me, if you please." 
 
 I led him to the library, where the flag still 
 hung over Washington's picture. 
 
 " We can't do much," I said, pointing to it ; 
 " but you see we haven't forgotten." 
 
 " By hanky, I should say so ! I call this 
 plucky, with a drove of secesh savages tearing 
 and rampaging past your door. Lucky none of 
 them caught you at it." 
 
 " Why do you always call them savages ?" I 
 demanded, having an uneasy impression that his 
 abuse was rather too persistent and indiscrimi- 
 nate. 
 
 "I don't, always. But it takes mighty little 
 to send a badly whipped army stark mad. I've 
 seen proof of it more than once, and on both 
 sides. Our own troops were like a pack of hye- 
 nas after the first Bull Run. There's nothing 
 to choose between North and South, in a panic. 
 You may thank your stars that the Johnnies 
 were in too much of a hurry to give you a call 
 when they went by. You'd have been in an ugly 
 fix, I can tell you." 
 
 It did not suit my purpose to inform him that 
 
66 THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 
 
 we had been in "an ugly fix,-' nor how oppor- 
 tunely we were befriended. After offering him 
 and his comrades the refreshment I had refused 
 to the rebel straggler, I went to Jennie, to con- 
 sult Avith her about leaving home. But I found 
 her full of another subject. 
 
 " Oh, Lionel, what will he think of us ?" was 
 her first wail. 
 
 " Who, the scout ?" 
 
 " The scout !" she echoed, curling her lips con- 
 temptuously. " I detest him." 
 
 "Why, he's as good a soul as ever was," I 
 said, very much astonished at this demonstra- 
 tion. " He came on purpose to help us." 
 
 " He has degraded us forever. Captain Fair- 
 child believes we laid a snare for him — you 
 and I." 
 
 " ]STo, Jennie, he can't suppose that ; or, if he 
 does, he won't think so long." 
 
 "What do you mean — how can you prevent 
 it?" 
 
 " Nothing easier ; you'll see, by-and-by." 
 
 " Tell me at once. He saved your life, Lionel ; 
 think of him now, a prisoner in this house !" 
 
 " You leave me alone, Jennie. Am I the sort 
 of fellow to let a debt like that go unpaid? 
 Don't you ask too many questions, little girl." 
 
 But Jennie's bright, even temper seemed to 
 
THE MIDNIGHT WAEN1NG 67 
 
 have deserted her on this occasion. She sur- 
 prised me more than ever by bursting into tears 
 — a thing I had not known her to do in our hard- 
 est times of trial. I tried to comfort her, but as 
 I could not guess the cause of her grief, my ef- 
 forts had no satisfactory result. 
 
 " Don't let this stain rest upon us," she sobbed. 
 " To be called a — a spy, and by such a man as 
 he is!" 
 
 " It makes no difference what any man calls 
 us, so long as we have nothing to reproach our- 
 selves for. Captain Fairchild will change his 
 tune before to-morrow morning." 
 
 "Lionel, you shouldn't speak of him in that 
 tone. Have you no sense of gratitude ?" 
 
 " Jennie, dear, I can't understand you. Some- 
 thing strange has come over you. But you 
 sha'n't quarrel with me ; I'll run away, sooner." 
 
 And so I did. Later in the day I returned, 
 however, and persuaded her to make ready for 
 our departure on the following morning. Then 
 I set to work upon a more difficult task, for the 
 successful performance of which I felt that unus- 
 ual tact and ingenuity were required — more, per- 
 haps, than I could command. 
 
68 THE MIDNIGHT WAENING 
 
 IX 
 
 Taking a note-book and a pencil in my hands, 
 and displaying them somewhat conspicuously, I 
 went to the chamber in which Fairchild was de- 
 tained. To the sentinel at the door I said : 
 
 " I don't want to disturb your prisoner, but I 
 have to make a hasty inventory before we go. 1 ' 
 
 " All right," replied the soldier. " He's quiet 
 enough ; you'll have no trouble with him." 
 
 I knocked at the door and waited for a re- 
 sponse. 
 
 " Walk right in," said the guard. " Make your 
 self at home in your own house." 
 
 I followed his suggestion, and closed the door 
 carefully behind me. The captain gave no greet- 
 ing, but rose from the chair in which he was seat- 
 ed and stared freezingly at me. 
 
 " Will you allow me a few words, Captain Fair- 
 child, in private ?" I began. 
 
 " You have no need to ask, sir. My permission 
 counts for nothing," he replied, as stiff and frigid 
 as an iceberg. 
 
 It was necessary, I perceived, to approach him 
 very delicately, if I hoped to gain a hearing. 
 
THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 69 
 
 "I appeal to your generosity, sir," I said. 
 " Will you do me a favor ?" 
 
 " I am not in a position to confer favors, Mr. 
 Claiborne." 
 
 " You can do all that I desire, if you will only 
 listen to me without prejudice. I ask it not 
 only on my own account ; it concerns my sister, 
 as well." 
 
 " I am at your service," he answered, a red 
 flush rising in his cheeks. 
 
 " I must be so brief," I proceeded, " that I shall 
 trust you to fill many gaps that I may leave. 
 Captain Fairchild, I am the son of a man whose 
 whole life has been devoted to the service of the 
 United States. He has suffered much for his 
 fidelity, and has taught his children that they 
 must expect to suffer likewise. While he lived 
 here he allowed no Fourth of July to go by with- 
 out calling us to witness his reverence for the 
 flag of the Union. Now that he has left us, I 
 try to follow his example. The flag was hung 
 this morning where he used to hang it, without a 
 thought of any good — or any harm — it might 
 bring us. This much I think you can readily 
 understand, and credit." 
 
 " I accept your statement, sir, thus far." 
 
 "My father has never ceased to instruct me 
 that my country's claim was always to be first 
 
70 THE MIDNIGHT WAKNING 
 
 considered. Only last evening I received a letter 
 from him, charging me to be steadfast and to 
 leave no duty unfulfilled. I had heard your 
 generals boasting of the ease with which their 
 overwhelming force would overcome the little 
 Northern garrison at Helena. I believed that 
 the cause which my father loves was threatened 
 with a great danger ; and like a gleam of light 
 the thought came to me that I could give a use- 
 ful warning. You know what I did. AVith his 
 bidding fresh in my mind I could not act other- 
 wise. I cannot say whether the news I carried 
 to the Union general was valuable or worthless. 
 At first he took it as if it were of no importance ; 
 afterwards he listened with a good deal of care." 
 
 " It was of the highest importance," said the 
 Captain, despairingly ; " and he had it through 
 my gross negligence. I deserve to be court- 
 martialed. I would demand a trial if I were at 
 liberty." 
 
 " I think you are in error. You gave me the 
 pass, it is true, but I could have obtained it from 
 some other officer just as well. If not, I should 
 have found a way to get through without much 
 difficulty. Well, sir, you have seen fit to call me 
 a spy. That has a hard sound to a Southern 
 gentleman's son. I know very little about mil- 
 itary matters, but I have understood that a spy 
 
THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 71 
 
 was one who went secretly into an enemy's camp 
 to get information by any and every means — to 
 steal it if no other way would serve. I did not 
 do that. Your plans were freely talked of with- 
 out an attempt at concealment, and I reported 
 them as well as I could. But I don't mean to 
 say that I would not have done a good deal more. 
 As I felt last night, and as I feel now, I would go 
 to almost any length to carry out my father's 
 command. If I have to be called a spy for it, 
 that can't be helped. I shall not consider my- 
 self humiliated unless he condemns me. I ought 
 also to make it plain that the ride to Helena was 
 wholly my own affair. Neither my sister nor 
 my brother had the slightest hint of my purpose." 
 
 " She said she would have done the same !" the 
 captain exclaimed. 
 
 "Yes, I believe she would, if the task had fallen 
 to her. But, as it happens, she was in complete 
 ignorance until this morning. And there was 
 one thing which none of us could have foreseen : 
 even if your army was to be defeated, we did 
 not dream that any of the Northerners would 
 come so quickly, or so far, as this. All through 
 it has wounded me, and my sister, too, to think 
 that a person who was kind and courteous to us 
 had been misled. Jennie grieved deeply about 
 it at a time when we had no expectation of ever 
 
72 THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 
 
 seeing you again. I ask you to put yourself in 
 our place, and consider what we must have felt 
 when we saw that you suspected us of setting a 
 trap for you and scheming for your capture. 
 Captain Fairchild, I would rather have been 
 shot by that cavalryman than be supposed ca- 
 pable of such shameful treachery." 
 
 I lost control of my voice just here, and stopped 
 abruptly. Presently the captain, in a milder 
 tone than before, told me to " go on." 
 
 " I will go on when I hear you say that you 
 believe me." 
 
 "I — I do believe you. I am glad to believe 
 you. Give me your hand, Mr. Claiborne. I 
 have been unjust; but at my age — I am not so 
 very much older than you, my lad — and under 
 such a trial as this disgraceful repulse, a man's 
 judgment may get all unhinged. I have wronged 
 you — and your sister." 
 
 " You have, a little ; but the account will 
 be square if you do me the favor I came to 
 ask." % 
 
 " If there is anything I can honorably do—" 
 
 "No question about that. I was afraid you 
 would give your parole when liumford proposed 
 it, and in that event it would have been incon- 
 venient. Now you have simply to wait quietly 
 till night comes, and then let me have the satis- 
 
THE MIDNIGHT WAENING 73 
 
 faction of seeing you off in safety, and saying 
 good-bye like a friend." 
 
 It was now the captain's turn to experience a 
 slight difficulty in speaking; but he soon recov- 
 ered himself, and said : 
 
 " Are you entirely in earnest, Mr. Claiborne ?" 
 
 " Never more in earnest in my life." 
 
 "What will be the consequences to you?" 
 
 "We haven't time to discuss them. They 
 can't be very serious, anyway." 
 
 " I am not sure of that. I must not take ad- 
 vantage of your youth and inexperience." 
 
 " It's your only way to prove that you no lon- 
 ger misjudge us." 
 
 " If that is the case, I — Would your sister 
 say the same ?" 
 
 "Certainly she would. Jennie and I are twins. 
 I know everything that passes in her mind." 
 
 I am now aware that this was very far from 
 the truth; but I said it in perfect good faith, 
 and I really believe the statement would have 
 been fairly correct twenty -four hours before. 
 Strange things had happened to us since the 
 previous evening. I had grown to be a tolerable 
 makeshift for a man, and Jennie— if Jennie had 
 not absolutely blossomed into a full-grown wom- 
 an, she was so far on the way as to have put 
 aside the transparent frankness of girlhood and 
 
74 THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 
 
 begun the cultivation of secrets all by herself, 
 without assistance from her brother. 
 
 " I should like to be convinced that you are 
 right," said Fairchild, dubiously. "Will you 
 take a line from me to Miss Claiborne ?" 
 
 " Oh yes, if you wish ;" but I thought it a. fla- 
 grant squandering of time, nevertheless, and won- 
 dered that a practical man should fret himself 
 about insignificant trifles. 
 
 He took my note-book and pencil, and scrib- 
 bled to an extent that spoke ill, I inferred, for 
 his faculty of concise expression. Being remind- 
 ed that we might be interrupted, he ceased sud- 
 denly, tore out half a dozen pages, and handed 
 them to me with the announcement that his 
 course of action would be determined by the an- 
 swer he should receive. 
 
 As I had no doubt what this would be, I pro- 
 ceeded without delay to prepare my plans, and 
 hurried to the servants' quarters in search of 
 Ptolemy, intrusting the note to Julius's care as I 
 went out, and telling him to deliver it privately 
 to Jennie. 
 
 The old negro was sitting in the doorway of 
 his cabin, meditating over the recent stirring 
 events, and looking forty times as wise as any 
 judge that ever sat in our circuit. 
 
 " I want you to brush up all your smartness, 
 
THE MIDNIGHT WAKNING 75 
 
 Ptol," I said. "I have something very impor- 
 tant for you to do." 
 
 " Sholy, Mars' Liny, sholy," he replied, with 
 immense gravity. 
 
 " I suppose you know there is a prisoner in 
 the house." 
 
 " Mighty glad to hear it, Mars' Liny." 
 
 " Well, wait a minute. This gentleman is a 
 friend of mine and Miss Jennie's. He ought 
 not to be a prisoner." 
 
 " Co'se not ; stands to reason." 
 
 " He mustn't coine to any harm here, Ptol." 
 
 " Dat he sha'n't ; nobody ain't goin' to trouble 
 a hair on his head." 
 
 " Keep still and hear me. "We must get him 
 off the plantation this night." 
 
 " I'll 'tend to it, Mars' Liny." 
 
 " Can you really, Ptol V I was taken aback 
 by this prompt acquiescence, and feared the old 
 man had been dazed by the occurrences of the 
 past twenty-four hours and did not comprehend 
 what I was talking about. 
 
 "Easy as winkin', Mars' Liny. "Whar is he 
 now 2" 
 
 " In father's room." 
 
 " Firs' rate. You let him out de side do', an' 
 I'll put him whar nobody can't find him." 
 
 " But how will you manage it ?" 
 
76 THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 
 
 " Don' I tole you I'll 'tend to it ?" said Ptol- 
 emy, with unspeakable dignity. " You jes' leave 
 him to me." 
 
 " See here, Ptol ; this is not a thing to joke 
 about. It's a matter of life and death. This 
 gentleman must get clear without a scratch." 
 
 " Hain't made a joke for fifty year, old Ptol 
 hain't. Press your soul, honey, don' I see you're 
 all of a fidget ? Ease your mind, chile ; I'll git 
 your frien' out safe an' sound. 'Tain't de fust 
 time." 
 
 " I don't understand what you mean, but I tell 
 you it would be a disgrace to us all if I failed to 
 set him free. Why, I owe him my life, Ptol." 
 
 ' ; Say no mo', Mars' Liny. I'd give mine, an' 
 welcome, to pay him for dat. But it's as easy — 
 you don' know how easy 'tis. If I don' run him 
 clean off de plantation to-night, I hide him whar 
 no white man can follow, till de coast's clar." 
 
 " It sounds almost too good to be true." 
 
 " Sho ! Don' you mind when Major Brindal's 
 boy Walter done run away? Nobody never 
 found him. We kep' him snug, not five minutes' 
 walk from here, till de time come — " 
 
 " Go ahead, Ptol." 
 
 "Tole you by-'m-by about dat, Mars' Liny. 
 You trust me. Your fader wouldn't neber make 
 old Ptol gib his word twice ober." 
 
THE MIDNIGHT WAKNING 77 
 
 " I will trust you, and be grateful for your 
 help." 
 
 "Dat's right, honey. What time you want 
 me at de side do' ?" 
 
 "At midnight, unless I send word otherwise 
 by Julius. Do you care to hear anything more 
 about this gentleman ?" 
 
 " No, sar. If he's your frien' and Miss Jennie's 
 frien', au' if he stood to keep danger from my 
 old marster's son, dat's 'nough for me. Hab no 
 fear; no trouble sha'n't go near him, true as I 
 live and breave. I wouldn't say so if I couldn't 
 do so." 
 
 I was much better satisfied with his manner 
 than I had been at the beginning of the inter- 
 view, but in fact I need not have given myself 
 the least anxiety at any moment. The old man, 
 like many of his class whose defensive instincts 
 have been sharpened by dire necessity, was as 
 cunning and crafty as a fox ; and like most of 
 his race when their affection has been gained by 
 kindness, was true as steel to those he served. 
 But he felt himself a personage of consequence 
 in the household, and as my father had always 
 humored his pretensions he was not disposed to 
 tolerate any diminution of his importance at the 
 hands of a youngster like myself. 
 
 It was now desirable to report progress to 
 
78 THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 
 
 Jennie, whose gracious humor I hoped to restore 
 completely by the news I had to impart. I found 
 my sister in her room, seated at a table on which 
 a dozen or more freshly written sheets were scat- 
 tered, to which she was adding with industrious 
 rapidity. 
 
 " Ah, Jennie, drawing up a detailed account of 
 transactions for father? Good girl." 
 
 " No, not exactly," she answered, less blithely 
 than usual, it seemed. " Captain Fairchild has 
 asked me for my opinion on certain matters, and 
 I—" 
 
 " Good gracious ! There's no occasion to del- 
 uge the man. Better let me carry him a 
 message." 
 
 " I don't think that would do, Lionel. He 
 seems undecided as to how he ought to act, and 
 under the circumstances I can't refuse to give 
 my advice." 
 
 " Oh, I say ! My sixteen-year-old sister advis- 
 ing a man old enough to be her father, and an 
 officer in the Southern army." 
 
 " Sixteen ! You know better, sir. Seventeen 
 next month. And he isn't old enough to be 
 my — He's only twenty-three." 
 
 " How on earth did you learn that ?" 
 
 " He — he says so — in his letter." 
 
 "Upon my word, young woman, this is a 
 
THE MIDNIGHT WAKNING 79 
 
 precious state of things. What have you to do 
 with the man's age ?" 
 
 "Don't be unkind, Lionel, after behaving so 
 splendidly — making it all up with the captain, 
 and offering to get him away. Think of what 
 he did for you, and — and he hasn't any parents 
 — and he's dreadfully sensitive about his con- 
 science — he fears it will make trouble for me — 
 for us — if you assist him to escape — and it would 
 almost kill me to have him dragged off to prison 
 from our house — so how can you be so heartless, 
 Lionel?" 
 
 " Why, I haven't said a thing," I protested, in 
 amazement. But though I had been, I admit, 
 pretty stupid thus far, I could hardly fail to be 
 enlightened by the rosy streaks that now came 
 and went on my sister's face ; by her tearful eyes, 
 and by the eager impetuosity of her speech. I 
 did not much like the look of it, but there was 
 no time for remonstrance or dissuasion, and so 
 far as I could hastily judge, the best course was 
 to send Fairchild out of reach as quickly as 
 possible. 
 
 " Lionel, I want to convince him that he ought 
 to go." 
 
 " So do I, Jen ; we're of the same mind there. 
 Give me your treatise on the whole duty of a 
 young Confederate captain, twenty -three years 
 
80 THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 
 
 of age, and an orphan in captivity with a trouble- 
 some conscience." 
 
 " I never knew you to be downright unfeeling 
 before !" she exclaimed, reproachfully. " It isn't 
 like you a bit." 
 
 " Don't worry, child ; it's all right. Give me 
 the brief epistle, if you like that better." 
 
 " It — I haven't — it isn't finished yet," she mur- 
 mured, her cheeks getting ruddier than ever. 
 
 " Mercy sake ! Are you going to make a se- 
 rial of it ? He'll never be able to wade through 
 that ocean of literature between now and mid- 
 night." 
 
 " I must add one word more — only one. Sit 
 down a minute, dear." 
 
 " Look here, Jennie ; I don't know much about 
 girls — that is, girls who are going to be seven- 
 teen next month — but I know enough to guess 
 what their ' one word ' means at the end of a 
 letter. It's generally a word of about 10,000 
 syllables. So I won't sit down, if you'll excuse 
 me. It will be better, after all, if I don't see 
 Fairchild until late in the evening. I'll leave you 
 to put in that word at your leisure — mind you 
 spell it right — and I'll come with a valise for 
 your mail after supper." 
 
 " You are a monster, and the plague of my 
 life !" she cried, with as fierce an accent as she 
 
THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 81 
 
 could put on. Then she came at me and kissed 
 me an inconvenient number of times, and wound 
 up by making a defiant face at me as I shook 
 myself free and skipped out of the room. 
 
 At eleven o'clock, having seen Ptolemy in the 
 interval and settled all preliminaries, I again pre- 
 sented myself at the door of my father's room. 
 
 " Prisoner asleep ?" I asked the sentry. 
 
 " Guess not ; heard him tramping around a 
 while ago." 
 
 ' ; I'll have to go in, anyway," said I ; and a 
 moment later I was alone with the captain, who 
 appeared more impatient to get the reply from 
 Jennie than to listen to my scheme for his lib- 
 eration. 
 
 " The foolish girl has covered a ream of paper 
 to say what might have been told in two words," 
 I remarked. 
 
 He looked as if he wanted to resent my pre- 
 sumption in criticising my own sister, but made 
 no verbal comment, and straightway devoted 
 himself to the bulky missive which I delivered 
 
 over. 
 
 c 
 
82 THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 
 
 " If you try to take in all that you'll lose your 
 chance," I warned him. " She's determined that 
 you shall go ; that's the main point." 
 
 " Yes, I see that," he answered ; " and yet — " 
 
 " There's no ' yet ' in the question, captain. 
 Jennie vows that she wishes never to set eyes on 
 you hereafter if you refuse to follow our coun- 
 sel." 
 
 She had not vowed anything of the sort ; but I 
 had found a way to overrule his obstinacy, and 
 proposed to take full advantage of the discovery. 
 
 " Then I suppose I must consent," he said. 
 
 " Precisely ; and now you will be good enough 
 to let me direct things. Put up your letter, and 
 oblige me by lying down on the bed with your 
 face to the wall." 
 
 " Since I conclude to yield, I may as well yield 
 without reservation," he said, stretching himself 
 out as I desired. 
 
 I gathered together a few of father's effects 
 which I really needed to carry away with me, 
 and then opened the door softly and called the 
 guard. 
 
 "Can you give me a lift with a trunk?" I 
 asked. " Come in gently ; if your man is tired, 
 let him have a rest." 
 
 I pointed to the reclining figure, and the sol- 
 dier silently nodded assent. Leading him to a 
 
THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 83 
 
 closet, I went through the form of getting out a 
 big portmanteau with his aid. 
 
 " Anything else ?" he inquired. 
 
 " Nothing more, thank you." 
 
 " How long are you going to stay here ?" he 
 continued, dropping his tone to a whisper. 
 
 " Half an hour or so." 
 
 " It's dry work mounting guard in this dismal 
 hall. Could you keep your eye on him while I 
 go below and freshen up? I won't be long." 
 
 " Go, by all means. Take your own time. 
 Likely as not he won't know you've left your 
 post." 
 
 " Good enough ; take my revolver ?" 
 
 " No ; better lock the door until you come 
 back. Or, wait ; I'll lock it on the inside and 
 pocket the key. When I hear you tap outside, 
 I'll open. Don't hurry; everything will be safe 
 here." 
 
 He started off in high good-humor, and I, de- 
 lighted at this unlooked-for piece of luck, made 
 the door fast, and told the captain to jump up 
 and get to work. 
 
 " Pull off that uniform as fast as you can," I 
 said, "and get into this suit of my father's 
 clothes." 
 
 "What for?" 
 
 " Don't ask ; you'll see soon enough." 
 
84 THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 
 
 " I don't like this, Claiborne." 
 
 " Bless us, we can't go over the whole argu- 
 ment again. Jennie will be wild if she hears 
 that you disputed her arrangement." 
 
 " Oh, if it's her arrangement — " That was all 
 he said, but he became quite humble and docile, 
 and proceeded to array himself in a shooting- 
 jacket and corduroy trousers several sizes too 
 large for him. While he did this, I stuffed his 
 uniform with various loose garments which I 
 rolled up for the purpose, and, placing it on the 
 bed, moulded it into a pretty close and accurate 
 resemblance to the human form. In the dimly- 
 lighted room the imitation was sufficiently good 
 to convey the impression that the captain was 
 still lying there, sound asleep. 
 
 Fairchild smiled as he inspected my handiwork, 
 but not very cheerfully. 
 
 " I don't like it," he repeated, shaking his head. 
 
 " It doesn't matter whether you like it or not," 
 I said, with intentional snappishness. "Jennie 
 likes it, and that's enough." 
 
 " True," he assented, submissively ; and he of- 
 fered no further objection. 
 
 I then explained my reason for having pro- 
 posed that he be lodged in this particular room, 
 which was that my father had long ago caused 
 a rough staircase to be built for his private use, 
 
THE MIDNIGHT WAKNING 85 
 
 leading from a large closet, or dark anteroom, to 
 the garden at the rear of the dwelling. This was 
 to enable him to go in and out at early or late 
 hours without arousing others of the family by 
 passing through the house. 
 
 " That fellow's thirst was a godsend to us," I 
 said. " Wait you here, captain, while I run down 
 and see if the coast is clear." 
 
 Ptolemy was lounging about the side door, ac- 
 cording to agreement. I gave notice that in less 
 than five minutes our guest would join him, and 
 delivered this final charge : 
 
 "Remember, Ptol, you have not only his safe- 
 ty, but our honor, in your care." 
 
 "Make your mind easy, Mars' Liny," he re- 
 plied. " Your f rien' shall be five mile away by 
 to-morrow mornin', if he likes. Dere"s nothin' in 
 de world I wouldn't do to please you, and dis — 
 why dis is easier'n go a-fishin'. Ask me to do 
 somefin' hard, if you want to make Old Ptol 
 happy." 
 
 " It is enough, Ptol. Do this job well, and I'll 
 never forget it. Nor Avill Jennie." 
 
 Returning to Fairchild, I explained that he 
 must now put himself under the old negro's lead. 
 
 "I would gladly go with you," I told him, " and 
 see you off the plantation, if it were not too 
 great a risk. I must be on hand here, you under- 
 
86 THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 
 
 stand, to "ward off suspicion. Ptolemy knows the 
 byways hereabout better than I do — or anybody 
 else ; and he has secret avenues of his own, 
 through which nobody can track him." 
 
 "Who is Ptolemy?" 
 
 " One of our oldest servants. There's not a 
 man on the plantation more intelligent ; and not 
 a dog more devoted and faithful." 
 
 " Then good-bye, Claiborne. Take my farewell 
 to your sister, and my grateful regards. Tell her 
 that her letter will be a solace to me, and that I 
 shall claim the privilege of answering it, even if 
 I have to wait long for the opportunity. Tell 
 her — " 
 
 " If I tell her how you kept on talking idly 
 when you ought to have been half-way across 
 the fields, she'll think it's your senses you meant 
 to take leave of, not her." 
 
 I was rough, perhaps, but there was positively 
 no way to manage him except by holding up 
 Jennie as an object of terror, and threatening 
 him with her displeasure. The idea that a fellow 
 of his size and training could be scared out of his 
 wits by the fear of a girl's frown struck me as 
 the most delicious absurdity I had ever heard of. 
 I'm older now. It's a good many years since I 
 left off laughing at Fairchild. 
 
 He grasped my hand, and, saying not another 
 
THE MIDNIGHT WAKNING 87 
 
 word, went down into the darkness of the night. 
 I resumed my labors, and in about a quarter of 
 an hour heard the guard returning through the 
 hallway. He rapped lightly, and I unclosed the 
 door, indicating by a gesture that I did not care 
 to talk, and leading him to suppose that the pris- 
 oner was fast asleep. 
 
 A little later, just before midnight, I looked in 
 upon Jennie, and satisfied a part of her curiosity 
 with respect to the captain's escape, which I re- 
 garded as having been accomplished beyond all 
 doubt. I say " a part of her curiosity," because 
 if I had answered all her questions she would 
 have tied me to the subject till sunrise. She 
 was sensible enough when I shifted her around 
 to reasonable topics, and, chatting comfortably 
 together, we "saw out" the most exciting and 
 momentous day of our lives — the never-to-be-for- 
 gotten Fourth of July of 1863. 
 
 XI 
 
 I slept quietly after the long course of fatigue 
 I had gone through until the following dawn, 
 when an exceedingly turbulent dream took pos- 
 session of me. I imagined that our house was 
 
88 THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 
 
 surrounded by batteries of artillery, and that a 
 tremendous cannonade had been opened upon it 
 from all sides. At the same time a mass of as- 
 sailants burst in through doors and windows, 
 filling: the interior with a din of clashing arms 
 and fierce outcries. I opened my eyes and shook 
 myself, but the illusion was not immediately dis- 
 pelled. An extraordinary clatter was certainly 
 going on all over the place. In the midst of it 
 my door was thrown open, and Rumford ap- 
 peared in a state of high exasperation. 
 
 " That rebel jackanapes has given us the slip!" 
 he cried. " Get up, Claiborne, and see if you can 
 put us on his scent." 
 
 While I rose and dressed he told me that the 
 sentinel had kept good watch during the night, 
 and found nothing to make him uneasy. Ev- 
 ery fifteen minutes or so he had looked into the 
 room where the prisoner was confined, and be- 
 lieved that he saw him always in the same po- 
 sition on the bed ; but when the early sunlight 
 came through the windows he noticed some- 
 thing unnatural about the figure, and on exami- 
 nation discovered it to be a " dummy." But the 
 method of escape could not be conjectured. In 
 spite of the heat, the windows had been bolted, 
 and they still remained fastened. In any case, 
 they were too high from the ground to tempt 
 
THE MIDNIGHT "WARNING 89 
 
 even a desperate man to jump from them. The 
 only doors, except that which gave admission 
 from the hall, opened into dark closets. A thor- 
 ough search had been ordered, and my assist- 
 ance was needed, first to furnish a minute de- 
 scription of the premises, and next to point out 
 the spots in which a fugitive might be likely to 
 conceal himself. 
 
 On going below, I found the whole party of 
 visitors in the utmost confusion. Jennie was 
 walking about unconcernedly, now and then ex- 
 changing a word with the servants, all of whom 
 had been summoned to supply information. Her 
 manner went far to relieve me from apprehen- 
 sion, and a glance at old Ptolemy's face satisfied 
 me that he had done his work effectively. 
 
 The small side door under father's windows 
 was soon detected, and Rumford inquired with 
 what part of the house it communicated. I told 
 him, without hesitation or reserve. 
 
 " "Why didn't you remember the private pas- 
 sage when the prisoner was taken to that room?" 
 he demanded. 
 
 I made no answer. 
 
 " Now I think of it," he continued, " it was 
 you who suggested quartering him there." 
 
 I was still silent. 
 
 " Mr. Claiborne," exclaimed the scout, explod- 
 
90 THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 
 
 ing suddenly, " do you know anything about this 
 business ?" 
 
 I had, from the first, intended to acknowledge 
 my share in the transaction, and as I felt confi- 
 dent that Fairchild was in safety, I saw no rea- 
 son for delaying the avowal. 
 
 " I know all about it," I announced. 
 
 " Then it was you who outwitted us and set 
 him free !" cried Rumford, while his companions 
 in arms gave vent to their indignation by angry 
 murmurs. 
 
 " There's no occasion to make a disturbance," 
 I said. " I don't propose to deny what I have 
 done. Captain Fairchild is out of your reach, 
 that's certain. I shall tell the whole story to 
 your commanding general, and take the conse- 
 quences, whatever they may be." 
 
 " Mighty fine talk ! It's a toss-up whether we 
 ever see the general again. Ten to one your 
 rebel runaway will gather together a lot of his 
 riffraff and try to cut us off. He knows how few 
 w r e are, and can find plenty to join him in a raid 
 for revenge." 
 
 " He's not that sort of man. I'll answer for 
 him." 
 
 " Your guarantee don't satisfy me, young 
 man." 
 
 " Take mine, then !" exclaimed Jennie, coming 
 
THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 91 
 
 forward heroically and confronting the scout.. 
 " I know that Captain Fairchild is incapable of 
 a mean or unmanly action." 
 
 I declare I was not the least astonished of 
 those who witnessed the little girl's valorous 
 demonstration. "Little girl" do I say? She 
 seemed to look down on every one around her, 
 though most of the army boys were strapping 
 fellows. And how handsome she was, while the 
 fire blazed in her eyes and the blood reddened 
 her cheeks ! Jennie was getting altogether be- 
 yond me ; there could be no question about that. 
 
 Kumford gazed at her with a little amusement 
 and a good deal of admiration. 
 
 " Oho !" he chuckled, grinning all over his 
 weather-beaten countenance; " that's how the 
 land lies." And, simple as the remark was, it 
 sent my poor sister's magnificent bravery flying, 
 and wilted her down in an instant from a creature 
 of majestic stature and spirit to the ordinary level 
 of her sex. Just for a second, indeed, she had 
 rather the aspect of a timorous child than of any- 
 thing more exalted. 
 
 But the scout was as good-hearted a fellow as 
 ever breathed, and would not have wounded her 
 sensitiveness for the world. Pretending not to 
 notice her discomfiture, he said : 
 
 "Very good, miss; it's all right. I'll accept 
 
92 THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 
 
 your guarantee. I didn't know he was an old 
 friend of yours." 
 
 Hereupon Jennie blushed more than ever, and 
 I had to sniggle by myself at the notion of an 
 " old friend " whom we had never seen or heard 
 of thirty-six hours before. Rumford kept quite 
 a solemn face, however, and said he was very 
 glad to learn that the young Southerner was 
 one of the right sort and a man to be depended 
 upon. 
 
 " But, for all that, Ave may as well get started 
 the first thing after breakfast," he remarked. 
 " Our communications with headquarters are a 
 little irregular, and the sooner we are there the 
 better." 
 
 Before leaving, Jennie and I had to go through 
 a sad scene with the servants. Ptolemy had 
 guessed that the separation was coming, and 
 controlled himself tolerably well. But his wife, 
 Aunt Tilly, broke down completely at parting 
 from the children whom she had nursed in their 
 infancy, and whom she loved with all the tender- 
 ness of her simple and kindly nature. It was 
 hastily decided that our little following of ne- 
 groes, a dozen altogether, should remain on the 
 estate under Ptolemy's leadership, and care for 
 themselves until we could resume possession. If, 
 however, the temper of the neighborhood should 
 
THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 93 
 
 render that impossible, they "were to go in a body 
 to the camp at Helena, where — so Rumford as- 
 sured us — they would be properly cared for, and 
 given the means of earning their livelihood. 
 
 We left our home in sorrow and dejection, 
 scarcely daring to hope that we should ever see 
 it again, notwithstanding the confident expecta- 
 tion we had held out to the negroes. But we 
 were sustained and cheered by the prospect of 
 being reunited to our father. I could not believe 
 that this happiness would be denied to any of us. 
 It was impossible to doubt that I should suffer 
 punishment, and probably a severe one, for my 
 complicity in FairchikTs flight, but at least I 
 should have the privilege of a parent's support 
 and protection in the trial that awaited me. 
 
 On arriving at Helena I at once solicited an 
 interview with the general in command, but was 
 informed that he was too busy rejoicing over the 
 great news from Vicksburg to give immediate 
 consideration to my insignificant affairs. The 
 great news was the surrender of Pemberton, 
 which had taken place almost simultaneously 
 with the defeat of Holmes, on the morning of 
 the Fourth. The meeting I asked for was de- 
 ferred till evening, and I then found that the 
 general had already been informed of what had 
 occurred at my home. 
 
94 THE MIDNIGHT WAKNING 
 
 "Eumford has given me an outline," he said; 
 " but if you wish to be more explicit I will listen 
 to you." 
 
 I told him everything, making no effort to put 
 myself in too favorable a light, and declaring my 
 readiness to accept whatever penalty might be 
 awarded. But I expressed a very earnest desire 
 that this should not be of a kind to prevent our 
 family from coming together again. 
 
 " You recognize that you were guilty of a seri- 
 ous offence," said the general, in a way which 
 puzzled me extremely. 
 
 " I do, sir." 
 
 " Of course you would not think of repeating 
 it, under any circumstances 2" 
 
 To this I made no reply. How could I? Jen- 
 nie, who sat by my side, gave me what she in- 
 tended as a comforting squeeze of the hand. 
 
 " I am afraid," he went on, " that this is too 
 heavy a matter for me to pass judgment upon. 
 I must shift the responsibility to a higher author- 
 ity. General Grant will know better than I what 
 to do. There's no appeal from him. I shall 
 send you down the river to-morrow. Perhaps I 
 shall go at the same time ; if not, one of my aids 
 will take charge of your case. Wait a mo- 
 ment ; I'll find out exactly when the boat will 
 start." 
 
THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 95 
 
 He retired to an adjoining room, and we heard 
 him talking in a low tone. Suddenly a great 
 burst of laughter broke out, as if the whole staff 
 were enjo} T ing a particularly fine joke. 
 
 " Barbarous wretch !" whispered Jennie. " All 
 the time he was talking to us I felt that he was 
 making sport of our misfortunes." 
 
 " I thought so too," said I ; " but we will bear 
 it as patiently as we can." 
 
 The general returned, and announced that we 
 must be ready for the journey at nine o'clock 
 the next morning. 
 
 " Can you tell me, sir," inquired Jennie, tremu- 
 lously, " what my brother will have to undergo 
 for his fault?" 
 
 " Really, I cannot. I shall have nothing to 
 say about it." 
 
 " I thought, perhaps," she continued, " it might 
 be something which I could share, and make it 
 lighter for him. I am just as much to blame as 
 he." 
 
 " My dear child !" began the general, with a 
 vehemence that made me start ; but he checked 
 himself, and added, more calmly — "I'm afraid 
 our code makes no provision for young ladies 
 Avho connive at the evasion of rebel officers. 
 You're not in a position to say you knew noth- 
 ing about it, are you ?" 
 
96 THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 
 
 " I could never say that, sir," said Jennie, 
 turning very pale. 
 
 "You might perhaps acknowledge that you 
 are sorry for it," the general suggested. 
 
 " Sorry !" she cried, her voice ringing like a 
 bell, although the tears were now streaming 
 down her cheeks ; " I should be a coward and 
 an ingrate to say I was sorry. I never was so 
 happy as when I knew he was safe I" 
 
 " There, there," he rejoined, with what I took 
 to be a clumsy attempt to soothe her, " I mustn't 
 plague you any more. Your Captain Fairchild 
 is a lucky fellow. Truly he is. I hope he de- 
 serves his good - fortune. Dry your eyes, my 
 dear, and keep them bright till — till the war 
 ends. It sha'n't last forever, I promise you. 
 Keep a good heart — for somebody." 
 
 He took her hand in one of his, and patted it 
 with the other. Then, saying that business was 
 pressing, he wished us good -night and with- 
 drew. 
 
 " Never mind him, Jennie," I whispered. " The 
 old bear doesn't know any better. He is a bar- 
 barian, as you say." 
 
 I thought she needed sympathy, and wanted 
 to give her a little. This is what I got for my 
 pains from that utterly incomprehensible sister 
 of mine : 
 
THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 97 
 
 "How can you, Lionel? You don't under- 
 stand him at all. He is the dearest old gentle- 
 man that ever wore a uniform !" 
 
 XII 
 
 Of the meeting with my dear father at Yicks- 
 burg, two days later, I must not try to speak. 
 The hardships we had gone through were all 
 forgotten. What cared we for past perils and 
 privations in the joy of finding ourselves once 
 more under the loving care of the best and no- 
 blest of parents? The happy hours flew by so 
 swiftly that the evening came before we had 
 told him one-half of what had befallen us during 
 the long term of separation ; and we had scarce- 
 ly approached the subject which we felt was the 
 gravest and the most difficult of all when a mes- 
 senger appeared, bringing a request that Colonel 
 Claiborne would report himself, with his family, 
 at headquarters. Then we saw how wrong we 
 had been in neglecting to explain our position at 
 the outset. Father expressed some surprise at 
 the summons, but instantly prepared to obey it. 
 We had little doubt as to why we were called, 
 and, as we made our way through the disordered 
 
98 THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 
 
 streets of the recently beleaguered city, I hastily 
 related what I had done, and what I expected 
 the outcome would be. 
 
 " I should have heard this before," said father. 
 " What prompted you to set the officer free ?" 
 
 " I prompted him, father !" exclaimed Jennie. 
 " He had just saved Lionel from being murdered." 
 
 " My dear, there is no sentiment in war. Your 
 brother's act will be condemned, I fear, without 
 consideration of his motive." 
 
 "Is General Grant so very severe?" asked 
 Jennie. 
 
 "He is stern, though always just. But he is 
 not likely to trouble himself about this matter — 
 that is, unless I can persuade him to interfere." 
 
 "Why," said I, "the general at Helena de- 
 clared it must be settled by the highest authority. 
 He particularly told us that General Grant alone 
 could decide the case, and sent me here for that 
 purpose." 
 
 " I can't imagine what he was thinking of. 
 He knows, of course, that a commanding general 
 pays no attention to such trifles. Perhaps there 
 is something behind it all, of which you are still 
 ignorant. But we shall soon learn. Let us hope 
 for the best. General Grant can interfere, if he 
 chooses to. I have never asked a favor yet, and 
 I don't think I should be refused the first time. 
 
THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 99 
 
 But I must make myself sure that I am justified 
 in asking it, even for you, my son." 
 
 We entered the house occupied by the general- 
 in-chief, and after a slight delay were shown into 
 a room where several officers and a few gentle- 
 men in plain dress were seated. Near one of 
 the former was a lad about thirteen years of 
 age, who showed a lively interest in the younger 
 members of our party, gazing at us, I thought, 
 with a very amiable expression. The scout, 
 Rumford, w r as standing close by. He nodded 
 pleasantly enough, but did not move from his 
 place to welcome us more familiarly. 
 
 I had no difficulty in recognizing the principal 
 figure in this company. The respectful atten- 
 tion with which he was regarded by the others 
 enabled me to identify him at once. He was 
 examining some papers as we walked m, and did 
 not immediately lift his eyes. But his face was 
 plainly visible, and I was struck by the firmness 
 and resolution indicated in every feature. I 
 should have been much better satisfied to dis- 
 cover some sign from which I might hope for a 
 lenient judgment of my misdeed. At that mo- 
 ment I saw nothing but an embodiment of grim 
 austerity. 
 
 He kept us waiting only a minute. Looking 
 up, he said, aside, to the scout : 
 
100 THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 
 
 " So these are Claiborne's twins ?" 
 
 Then he greeted my father, with somewhat 
 formal precision : 
 
 " Good-evening, Colonel Claiborne. I congrat- 
 ulate you on having your children with you 
 again/' 
 
 " Thank you, general," said my father. " It is 
 a great relief. With one single exception, all 
 my personal anxieties are now at an end." 
 
 " What is the exception, colonel V 
 
 " I must know what disposition will be made 
 of my son's case before I can be at ease." 
 
 "I understand. His conduct has been reported 
 to me by trustworthy witnesses. What do you 
 expect for him ?" 
 
 " I have not heard all the details, general. I 
 don't know what to expect." 
 
 " Perhaps I ought to say, What would you 
 wish ?" 
 
 I perceived that my father was greatly dis- 
 composed, though he remained outwardly impas- 
 sive. Few of those present would have conceived 
 how painful the suspense was to him. 
 
 " If I may express a wish," he said, " it is that 
 his youth and the impulse under which he acted 
 may be taken into account. The Southern offi- 
 cer had rescued him from a horrible death, and 
 this obligation made the boy unmindful of his 
 
THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 101 
 
 strict duty. I trust that the circumstances will 
 be remembered in mitigation of his punishment." 
 
 " Punishment !" exclaimed the general, sitting 
 upright in his chair, and staring at my father in 
 blank astonishment ; " what are you speaking 
 of ? "We are at cross-purposes. Kuraford, come 
 here." 
 
 The scout leaned down, and several sentences 
 were exchanged between him and the head of 
 the army in too subdued a tone to be heard at 
 our distance. At the end of this colloquy the 
 general turned to us again, and I fancied I saw 
 a slight relaxation of the determined lines in his 
 countenance. 
 
 " Now I have the whole of it," he said. " Your 
 son concocted a scheme for the escape of a South- 
 ern officer." 
 
 " So I am informed," replied my father. 
 
 " You admit this, young gentleman ?" proceed- 
 ed the general, addressing me. 
 
 " It is true, sir." 
 
 Neither my father nor I would have thought 
 it wise to add another word ; but Jennie, poor 
 child, who had all along been convinced that she 
 had put the idea into my head, could not control 
 herself. 
 
 " Ah, general," she faltered, "it was at my re- 
 quest he did it." 
 
102 THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 
 
 "Against his own will?" asked the general, 
 stiffly. 
 
 " I think not," she answered ; and then, more 
 faintly, " I hope not." 
 
 "Hush, my daughter," said father. "What 
 Lionel did, he must abide by." 
 
 A pause followed, which seemed to me inter- 
 minable ; and while it lasted we were curiously 
 observed by all in the room. Finally the gen- 
 eral's clear and even voice broke the silence. 
 
 " The escape of a prisoner is sometimes a dan- 
 gerous matter. The least I can do, Colonel Clai- 
 borne, is to see that such a thing does not occur 
 in your family again. The question is how to 
 prevent it. Your son has placed a personal obli- 
 gation above a public duty. "We must put him 
 in a position where that will be impossible. Un- 
 der proper military discipline he will learn to reg- 
 ulate his feelings by the rules of the service. A 
 lieutenant's commission is what he requires first 
 of all. You will look after the rest." 
 
 I could hardly believe my ears. If the gen- 
 eral was in earnest — and he seemed incapable of 
 levity — I was to receive, instead of chastisement, 
 a reward of high honor. It was incredible. I 
 looked for the effect of what we had heard upon 
 my father and sister. Jennie evidently did not 
 comprehend it in the least. She was as much in 
 
THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 103 
 
 the dark as little Julius, and a great deal more 
 frightened. My father, too, was deeply agitated, 
 but by a very different emotion. I had never 
 before seen him so shaken from his usual pla- 
 cidity. He went forward hastily to a position 
 nearer his chief. 
 
 "This is more than I could have hoped," he 
 said, with much feeling. " I have done nothing 
 to entitle me to such generosity." 
 
 " We will leave you out of consideration just 
 now, colonel," answered General Grant. " I am 
 settling accounts with your son. It appears 
 that you have heard only a part of what he has 
 done. He has told you about his transgression, 
 but kept his gallant exploit to himself. All the 
 more creditable to him. ISTo, colonel, there's no 
 generosity in this business. "We are indebted to 
 him for an important service. Like his father, 
 he knows how to prove his loyalty at the right 
 time. It runs in the Claiborne blood, I suppose." 
 
 If I may judge by my own sensations, the 
 Claiborne blood stood still in all our veins when 
 the captor of Vicksburg ceased speaking. Be- 
 fore any of us could recover ourselves, the gen- 
 eral beckoned the lad whose presence I have 
 mentioned, and said to him : 
 
 " Go and shake hands with that young gentle- 
 man, Fred. He will grow up to be a fine soldier." 
 
104 THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 
 
 The youth crossed the room and gave me his 
 hand with frank boyish cordiality. 
 
 " I'm glad to hear that you belong to us" he 
 said, brightly and cheerily. 
 
 Most of the company laughed at his quaint 
 manner of welcoming me as a comrade in the 
 service to which he considered himself attached, 
 and the general's face was lighted with a smile 
 which banished all the severity from his features. 
 It was gone in an instant, but I have never for- 
 gotten that sudden and brief gleam of sunshine 
 upon a countenance from which the expression 
 of unbending gravity was so rarely absent. 
 
 I am sure that he introduced his son into the 
 conversation with a thoughtful desire to relieve 
 us, and particularly my father, from the strain 
 and embarrassment of the situation. I told the 
 lad I should value his kind congratulations, and 
 then, approaching the general, offered him my 
 thanks in words which I can only hope were be- 
 fitting, for I do not recall a single one of them. 
 After I had spoken, Jennie and Julius were 
 brought up and presented by Master Fred, who, 
 perceiving that they were under some constraint, 
 gave them the benefit of his protection, and did 
 his best to make them comfortable. 
 
 " I can't do better than dismiss you now," said 
 General Grant, after a few casual sentences had 
 
THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 105 
 
 been exchanged. " You have yet a great deal 
 to hear and to tell, and would like to be alone, 
 no doubt. I will send Rumford around in the 
 course of the evening to supply some information 
 about the Helena battle which I find has not 
 been communicated to Lieutenant Claiborne. 1 ' 
 
 Lieutenant Claiborne! The title took my 
 breath away. What was the " mister " of Gen- 
 eral Prentiss to this? An empty, insignificant 
 sound — nothing more. This had indeed a mean- 
 ing! And my father, after he had heard all, 
 partly from me and partly from Rumford, was 
 pleased to declare that I deserved it. With a 
 heart full of gratitude and happiness I resolved 
 that my constant study should be to make my- 
 self more and more worthy of it, and to justify, 
 by unceasing industry and devotion, the confi- 
 dence with which I had been so signally favored. 
 
 The events of a single Fourth of July thus in- 
 troduced me to a career which I followed with 
 enthusiasm while the war lasted, and from which 
 I did not retire until called to another sphere of 
 duty. The Fourth of 1864 was passed at a 
 point far remote from our Arkansas home, but 
 the succeeding anniversary saw us under the old 
 roof once more, with our faithful little band of 
 retainers revelling around us. From that time 
 the history of the Claiborne family has been one 
 
106 THE MIDNIGHT WARNING 
 
 of peace and domestic prosperity. The even 
 tranquillity of five- and -twenty years has been 
 varied by so few exciting events that the epi- 
 sodes of the Rebellion, in which we were so ac- 
 tively concerned, sound like romantic fiction to 
 the youthful generation now advancing to ma- 
 turity. It is for the edification of these children 
 of a less stormy period that I, the soldier of the 
 past and the simple farmer of to-day, have un- 
 dertaken to set down in lasting form the record 
 of our share in the great contest between North 
 and South. The juvenile circle for which it is 
 intended has many members, all alike dear to us 
 who watch the progress of their young lives ; 
 yet I have in this instance allowed nwself to be 
 so far partial as to dedicate my chronicle espe- 
 cially to two of the number, for no other reason 
 than that they happen to be called Jennie and 
 Lionel. They are not twins, however, and their 
 last name is not Claiborne, but one which my 
 sister has borne since her wedding day, when she 
 ceased to be known in society as Miss Jennie 
 Claiborne, and, with the heartiest approval of 
 her father and brothers, became Mrs. Richard 
 Fairchild. In these later years it is only her 
 oldest and nearest relations who, looking back to 
 the time of her youth, claim and exercise the 
 right to speak of her as one of Claiborne's Twins. 
 
GRACIE'S GODSON 
 
 Fiest you shall learn how two babies — so 
 called or miscalled — were made acquainted with 
 each other under strange and anomalous condi- 
 tions ; and afterwards how one of them, by most 
 unusual processes, but greatly to his happiness, 
 became the other's godson. 
 
 Mrs. George Sheldon stood at an open window 
 of her house in one of the far up-town districts 
 of New York, looking across a little grass-plot 
 which belonged to the establishment, and grave- 
 ly inspecting the antics of a crowd of boys who 
 were noisily amusing themselves on the side- 
 walk. She was in great distress. Her daughter 
 Grace, a child five years of age, lay dangerously 
 ill up-stairs — so ill that the doctor doubted her 
 chance of recovery unless she could be kept in 
 perfect rest and quiet for several days to come. 
 
108 GKACIE S GODSON 
 
 Mr. Sheldon had ordered tan to be spread in 
 the street to deaden the sound of passing vehi- 
 cles, and within -doors the utmost silence was 
 maintained day and night. But there was one 
 cause of disturbance which had just that after- 
 noon made itself apparent, and against which the 
 anxious mother felt herself unable to contend. 
 
 The street urchins of that neighborhood were 
 as bad a rabble as could be found in any except 
 the most disreputable quarters of the city. Fine 
 residences were gradually crowding out the rude 
 hovels which originally covered the ground, but 
 numbers of wretched shanties still remained, oc- 
 cupied by an extremely low and ill -regulated 
 class of tenants. The proportion of children 
 among these seemed entirely beyond reasonable 
 calculation. They swarmed through the thor- 
 oughfares at all hours, bent upon nothing but 
 finding ways of making themselves obnoxious 
 and destroying the peace of decent citizens. No 
 form of diversion was satisfactory to them in 
 which they could not contribute to the annoy- 
 ance and exasperation of the orderly communi- 
 ty. Clamor and confusion were essential to their 
 happiness, and he who could discover the newest 
 methods of creating uproar became the tempo- 
 rary leader in their pastimes and the idol of his 
 mates. 
 
GKACIE S GODSON 109 
 
 A handsome fence of iron bars separated the 
 Sheldons' little lawn from the sidewalk. It is a 
 matter of notorious record that, since the earli- 
 est dawn of history, fences of this description 
 have been choice objects of interest and affection 
 to boys of every station and degree, their rooted 
 conviction being that such structures are fabri- 
 cated solely to afford them the unspeakable de- 
 light of dragging sticks along the parallel spokes 
 from end to end, thereby producing a clangor 
 like that of a watchman's rattle multiplied and 
 aggravated a hundred-fold. To the very best of 
 boys the temptation to indulge in this exhilarat- 
 ing sport is almost irresistible. By the boys of 
 the locality in which the Sheldons dwelt it would 
 have been deemed a wilful if not a criminal neg- 
 lect of opportunity — a flying in the face of be- 
 neficent fortune — to refrain from revelling in the 
 luxury which circumstance had placed at their 
 disposal. The only wonder was that they had 
 not found it out before, and turned it to happy 
 account. 
 
 Now, however, the entertainment was in vig- 
 orous operation, and the performers were mak- 
 ing up for the time lost during the period when 
 the splendid possibilities of iron pickets were yet 
 unrevealed to them. The master of ceremonies 
 was a youth somewhat smaller in stature and 
 
110 GKACIE S GODSON 
 
 presumably younger than the majority of his 
 companions, who carried in his right hand a steel 
 rod about two feet long, which he pressed with 
 all his force against the bars as he ran the whole 
 length of the fence, making a din sufficient to 
 shatter the senses of a rhinoceros, not to speak 
 of the delicate nerves of the little sick girl. He 
 was closely followed by a dozen or more juvenile 
 vagabonds, some with barrel -staves, some with 
 broom-handles, some with sections of stove -fun- 
 nels. Several of the party carried two clattering 
 contrivances, one in each fist. The commander- 
 in-chief was debarred this privilege, being under 
 the necessity of holding a bundle of newspapers 
 to his side with his left arm, but the energy and 
 dexterity with which he manipulated the steel 
 rod gave him a superiority which could not just- 
 ly be contested, and made him easily the first 
 among his fellows — facile jwinceps, he would 
 have been called had he been a gutter imp of 
 ancient Rome instead of an unruly newsboy of 
 modern New York. 
 
 What could Mrs. Sheldon do ? She might send 
 for a policeman, and have the mischievous mob 
 dispersed, but she well knew that the relief thus 
 obtained would be merely momentary. The of- 
 ficer's back would no sooner be turned than the 
 pests would be at their work again, strengthened 
 
gracie's godson 111 
 
 with reinforcements and stimulated by revenge- 
 ful wrath to fresh exertions. The unhappy lady 
 was in torture at the thought of what her darling 
 might be suffering from the hideous tumult. She 
 understood how useless would be any attempt to 
 bribe the malefactors to peace and quiet. Pity 
 was not in their nature. They would have taken 
 her money, and then spread the intelligence that 
 instantaneous wealth was at the command of any 
 body of boys who chose to seek it through this 
 fascinating channel. The nuisance would simply 
 be intensified and prolonged. 
 
 While she gazed, more in sorrow than in an- 
 ger, at the persecutors of her baby, the director 
 of the discordant orchestra chanced to turn in 
 her direction, and caught sight of her face at the 
 raised window. This young scapegrace was not 
 without some of the qualities of an estimable 
 lady immortalized by a famous poet of the last 
 century : " Though on pleasure he was bent, he 
 had a frugal mind." He checked himself ab- 
 ruptly in his furious race up and down the side- 
 walk, and pushing open the gate, ran across the 
 lawn and planted himself directly in front of 
 Mrs. Sheldon. 
 
 " Papeers !" he cried. " Evening papeers ! 
 Wor-yeeld ! Sun ! Tel 'gram /" 
 
 The lady shook her head without speaking. 
 
112 GRACIE S GODSON 
 
 "Extree!" persisted the peddler of news. 
 " Wor-yeeld — sport' n edish'n ! Mail V Expray- 
 ess /" 
 
 Receiving no encouragement, he whirled swift- 
 ly upon his heels, right willing to relinquish the 
 shadowy hope of commerce with a stranger for 
 the certainty of resuming a delightful recreation 
 with his comrades. 
 
 " Oh, baby ! baby !" exclaimed Mrs. Sheldon, 
 sadly, as he started away with a flourish of his 
 metal rod in the air. 
 
 Unexpectedly to her he swung round again 
 and looked up with an impudent stare of in- 
 quiry. 
 
 " No," she said ; " I want no papers." 
 
 " Yer called me," he returned, sulkily. 
 
 " I did not call," she replied. 
 
 " Yes, yer did. Yer sung out ' Baby.' " 
 
 " Is your name Baby ?" Mrs. Sheldon asked, 
 with indifference, not caring in the least wheth- 
 er it was or not. 
 
 " O' course it ain't ; but that's what the fellers 
 calls me — choke 'em ! Just wait till I get a year 
 bigger. Then I'll 'Baby' every father's son of 
 'em !" 
 
 Mrs. Sheldon now looked at the boy more at- 
 tentively than before, and what she saw im- 
 pressed her. He was about twelve years old, 
 
GKACIE S GODSON 113 
 
 raggedly clad, and as untidy as those of his call- 
 ing are apt to be. His attitude was defiant, and 
 the expression of his countenance was hard and 
 aggressive. But the features were as fine and 
 delicate as those of a girl, and the dirt on his 
 cheeks could not hide the clear brightness of his 
 complexion. In his red tangled hair there was 
 a shine of gold, and his large blue eyes gleamed 
 with a light the charm of which went far to 
 counteract the vicious boldness of their stare. 
 It seemed probable to the observant lady that 
 the title of "Baby" had been bestowed by his 
 associates in consequence of his peculiar beauty, 
 which they regarded as effeminate and infantile, 
 and that he resented the imputations it conveyed 
 with the spirit becoming to an advanced news- 
 boy of the nineteenth century. 
 
 The thought came rapidly to her mind that 
 the epithet applied in mockery might possibly 
 have some justification in the lad's character; 
 and if this were the case, an appeal to his better 
 feeling on behalf of her afflicted child might not 
 be utterly fruitless. It was a slender hope, but 
 she would make the trial. 
 
 " I'll buy your papers," she said. 
 
 " How many of 'em ?" 
 
 " All you have, if you will do what I desire. 
 Come into the house ; I will open the door." 
 
114 gracie's godson 
 
 "What's the game?'' he demanded, with a 
 sharp glance of distrust. 
 
 "Come, if you wish to sell your papers. If 
 not, I can wait here no longer." 
 
 " Yer won't go to set a watch-dog on me ?" he 
 said, hesitating. " I can't fight a watch-dog." 
 
 By way of reply she drew a portemonnaie 
 from her pocket, and took out some loose silver. 
 The glitter of the coin appeared to allay his sus- 
 picions, and when she threw back the hall door 
 he walked jauntily in, with considerably more 
 effrontery in his air than was natural or appro- 
 priate to the situation. 
 
 " What is your real name ?" inquired Mrs. Shel- 
 don, leading the way to the room in which she 
 had been standing. 
 
 " Dun' no'," was the reply, in a sullen tone. 
 
 " Surely you are not always called Baby ?" 
 
 " Down at the newspaper shops they calls me 
 the Coyote." 
 
 " Indeed ! And which do you like best ?" 
 
 " By-'n'-by I'm goin' to strip the hide off of ev- 
 ery feller what's called me Baby— if I kin." 
 
 " Very well ; it doesn't matter whether you 
 have a name or not. Now take off }^our cap." 
 
 " What '11 I do with it ?" demanded the young 
 scamp, looking furtively and warily about him. 
 He obeyed, however, and held the tattered head- 
 
GRACIE S GODSON 115 
 
 covering awkwardly in his hand, with a look of 
 surprise at being thus required to encumber him- 
 self, when any one might see that to leave it in 
 its natural and customary resting-place would be 
 much more comfortable for all concerned. 
 
 " Put it in your pocket, if you like," said the 
 lady ; "anywhere except on your head." 
 
 He preferred to roll it up and poke it inside 
 the breast of his flaring red woollen shirt, after 
 which he proceeded to dishevel his hair with the 
 unoccupied hand ; but he could not brush away 
 the rich coloring or straighten the kink out of 
 the short curls. 
 
 "Listen to me," Mrs. Sheldon continued. 
 " Have you a mother or a sister ?" 
 
 " No," he answered, without a sign of interest. 
 
 " Have you ever been sick ?" 
 
 " Guess not ; don't remember." 
 
 "I have a little girl — scarcely more than a 
 baby — who is very sick, perhaps dying. The 
 least noise hurts her terribly. Can you stop that 
 dreadful banging on the fence ?" 
 
 " What '11 yer give me to stop V 
 
 " I don't mean you alone ; I want you to keep 
 the others quiet, too." 
 
 " How kin I do that ?" he asked, impatiently. 
 
 " If you tell them why, perhaps they will go 
 away." 
 
116 GRACIE S GODSON 
 
 " O' course they won't," he rejoined, scornful- 
 ly. " Catch 'em !" 
 
 The sorrowful mother was reluctant to let the 
 chance slip by, poor as it was. If this small rag- 
 amuffin had a spark of humanity in him, it ought 
 to be touched by the anguish of her child. It 
 was hard to believe that a boy of his years could 
 be wholly insensible to compassion. Suddenly 
 she resolved to bring him face to face with the 
 little invalid up-stairs. 
 
 "Come and look at my dear daughter," she 
 said. " When you see how weak and ill she is, 
 you will understand why I ask you to help me. 
 Step softly, and do not speak out loud." 
 
 II 
 
 Without a word the newsboy followed her to 
 the floor above, and walked unmoved into the 
 chamber where the ailing girl lay. A nurse who 
 was sitting at the bedside looked up astonished 
 at the unexpected visitor, but Mrs. Sheldon im- 
 posed silence by a gesture, and beckoned him to 
 draw near. 
 
 It needed no keen perception to realize the 
 sufferer's condition. Her gentle face was hag- 
 
OKACIE S GODSON 117 
 
 gard with pain, and her soft dark eyes seemed to 
 plead for relief as she turned them beseechingly 
 upon her mother. 
 
 "Mamma," she moaned, feebly, "please do 
 make them stop ; my head aches so." 
 
 " I am going to try, dear," Mrs. Sheldon an- 
 swered. To the boy she added in an undertone: 
 " You can see what misery she is in. When you 
 tell your playfellows they Avill surely listen." 
 
 " Do no good," he muttered. " Gi' me a min- 
 ute to think. May I look out o' winder V 
 
 " Yes. "We have to keep it open all the time, 
 the heat is so great. You can hear how fright- 
 ful the noise is." 
 
 He crept across the room, and peered cautious- 
 ly forth. While he did this the nurse, Avho re- 
 garded him with extreme disfavor, said to Mrs. 
 Sheldon, 
 
 " Don't trust that wretch for anything, ma'am ; 
 he'll be a great deal readier to do harm than 
 good." 
 
 " He has a beautiful face, nurse." 
 
 "But the wickedness of his eyes is awful. 
 There's nothing but spitefulness in him." 
 
 She would have continued in the same strain if 
 the object of her disparagement had not quickly 
 returned and interrupted her. He was smiling in 
 a peculiar and by no means amiable way.. 
 
118 GRACIE S GODSON 
 
 " I'm the feller that kin do it," he said, with a 
 hoarse chuckle. " What's the figure ?" 
 
 " You ought to be ashamed of yourself," the 
 nurse broke in, very earnestly, though as softly 
 as possible. " You ought to be overjoyed to do 
 anything in the world for this dear, unhappy lit- 
 tle angel." 
 
 "This is biz," he retorted, with an ugly scowl. 
 " The lady promised to buy all my papers." 
 
 " That is true," assented Mrs. Sheldon ; " and I 
 will do it, and a great deal more, if you can drive 
 those boys out of the street." 
 
 "I've got the trick," he responded, leering craft- 
 ily. " I know how to work it straight through, 
 if yer come down handsome, and make it worth 
 my while. Yer've only got to leave it to me, 
 and it goes. Put up the cash, and I'll clear 'em 
 all out, sure as I stand here. I kin send 'em 
 spinning soon as I like, or," he whispered, with a 
 malicious grin, "I kin keep 'em at it harder'n 
 ever all day long and p'r'aps all night. 'Tain't 
 for me to say which it's goin' to be. It's for you 
 to choose, ma'am, and make up yer mind how 
 much yer'll stand." 
 
 Mrs. Sheldon looked at the heartless young 
 reprobate with unconcealed disgust. The nurse 
 was for a moment speechless with indignation, but 
 quickly recovering the use of her tongue, she said, 
 

ORACLE S GODSON 119 
 
 " Don't give him a cent, ma'am, I beg of you ; 
 not unless he proves that he can do what you 
 wish." 
 
 " I will pay for your papers in any case," Mrs. 
 Sheldon remarked, coldly ; " that was agreed. If 
 you stop this hideous crashing, you shall have — 
 Give attention, if you please." 
 
 She paused, observing that he was casting sharp 
 glances about the room and curiously inspecting 
 the furniture, instead of listening as closely as 
 she thought necessary. 
 
 " I'm a-hearin' of yer," he replied. " Go ahead, 
 ma'am." 
 
 " If you make them stop now, you shall come 
 to me this evening at nine o'clock for half a dol- 
 lar. If they are quiet all day to-morrow you 
 shall have another half-dollar at the same hour." 
 
 "It's too much, Mrs. Sheldon," protested the 
 nurse. 
 
 "Not if he succeeds. And so on every day 
 until my child is well." 
 
 " S'pose she don't get well ?" 
 
 "You unfeeling little monster, how dare you?" 
 said the nurse, writhing under the necessity of 
 keeping her ire within bounds. " Of course she 
 will get well." 
 
 " Oh, I dare say, 'cause you're a-nursin' of her," 
 was the sneering response. "Well, I didn't mean 
 
120 GRACIE S GODSON 
 
 for her to hear, anyway. So that's the bargain, 
 ma'am. I'm to have half a dollar for every day 
 the fellers don't play onto the fence !" 
 
 " Yes ; and my thanks, if you care for them." 
 
 It did not appear that he was dazzlingly al- 
 lured by this part of the prospective reward. 
 His eyes began to rove around the chamber 
 again, as if attracted by the various unfamiliar 
 objects distributed here and there. All at once 
 he said: "Will yer let me look into the street 
 once more?" 
 
 Mrs. Sheldon nodded in assent, and for a min- 
 ute he devoted himself to a second scrutiny of 
 the window, after which he returned apparently 
 satisfied. 
 
 " The papers is thirty - five cents," he ob- 
 served. 
 
 " I will count them, ma'am," proposed the 
 nurse. 
 
 " Oh, go 'way !" the thrifty speculator grunted, 
 in deep scorn and mockery. " Anybody kin see 
 'tain't your kid that's sick." 
 
 "Be quiet," ordered Mrs. Sheldon. "Here is 
 the money, and you may keep the papers. They 
 are of no use to me/' 
 
 " May I ?" he said, greedily ; but, on reflection, 
 he declined the offer, though with evident reluc- 
 tance. " No, that '11 spoil my game. But if yer 
 
GKACIE S GODSON 121 
 
 want to make me a present, I'll take it money 
 down." 
 
 " Oh, ma'am, do send the jackanapes away," 
 entreated the nurse. " He's only deceivin' you." 
 
 The jackanapes surveyed her with cool con- 
 tempt, and, turning his back to the bed, addressed 
 himself exclusively to the mistress of the house. 
 
 " I'll go now," he said. " Yer'll hear lots of 
 music for the next five or ten minutes. Don't 
 mind that. Shut the window if yer can't stand 
 the racket. Yer'll see me goin' in louder'n any 
 of 'em. That's all right ; yer'll be able to hold 
 out a little while longer, I guess. Then I'll come 
 back to the house and pertend to talk to you. I 
 sha'n't have nothing to say ; just let me in, and 
 pretty soon I'll clear out for good. If I can't fix 
 the boys, nobody can't do it. Say, it's square 
 about that half-dollar to-night V 
 
 " You shall have it, if you earn it." 
 
 He pocketed the money that was handed to 
 him, laid his bundle of papers on a chair, drew 
 forth his cap and clapped it on the back of his 
 head, made an apish grimace at the nurse, who 
 watched the proceedings wrathfully, and betook 
 himself down-stairs and into the open air. 
 
122 GRACIES GODSON 
 
 III 
 
 Though her expectations had not much to rest 
 upon, Mrs. Sheldon followed the newsboy's move- 
 ments attentively through the window. For a 
 time she saw little to encourage her. 
 
 The reappearance of their leader was the sig- 
 nal for an uproarious demonstration on the part 
 of the juvenile mob. After the interchange of a 
 few words, he sprang with redoubled vigor to his 
 interrupted sport, using not only the formidable 
 steel rod, but also an old saw blade, of which he 
 ruthlessly dispossessed a smaller member of the 
 brotherhood. 
 
 " He's the worst of them all," said the nurse, 
 who had come to look on by her employer's side. 
 
 " He told me he should do this at first," an- 
 swered Mrs. Sheldon, clinging to the faintest 
 chance of a respite. 
 
 " Ah, ma'am, there's nothing on earth like their 
 rascality." 
 
 "I thought he seemed less wild and brutal than 
 they generally are, nurse. Did you notice that 
 he spoke a little more correctly than most of 
 them ? He did not say ' de ' and * dat ' for ' the ' 
 
GRACIE S GODSON 123 
 
 and 'that,' like many that you hear. Perhaps he 
 has some ideas of right and wrong." 
 
 " "Well, ma'am, it's my opinion the workin's of 
 the human breast don't go by parts o' speech, nor 
 yet the way you pronounce 'em. I've heard la- 
 dies that goes out to service make mistakes in a 
 way with their mouths, and their hearts as good 
 as California gold all day long." 
 
 A stronger brogue than usual accompanied the 
 slight tone of injury in which the excellent Irish 
 nurse delivered this piece of wisdom, and Mrs. 
 Sheldon forbore further discussion of the delicate 
 point. She was about to turn the conversation 
 to subjects in which no tinge of personality could 
 be suspected, when it was observed that the or- 
 der of events without began to change. A num- 
 ber of the older boys suspended operations and 
 withdrew from the line. They were seen to fol- 
 low the Baby, and question him eagerly. He 
 also paused, and allowed himself to be drawn 
 into an animated conversation. But his inactivity 
 did not last long ; he was quickly at work again, 
 creating alone as much din as the half-dozen who 
 had retired. Presently he was surrounded, and 
 an attempt was made to drag him from the fence. 
 This he resisted angrily, and a stormy debate 
 ensued. His voice was heard loud above the rest, 
 though what he said could not be distinguished. 
 
124 GRACIE S GODSON 
 
 At last he seemed to yield to the pressure put 
 upon him by the majority, and Avith every indi- 
 cation of repugnance and ill-humor he left the 
 crowd, and marched up the pathway to the house. 
 The commotion ceased as if by magic. 
 
 "He has actually stopped them," exclaimed 
 Mrs. Sheldon. " How could he do it ?" 
 
 " Don't be too sure, ma'am," the nurse advised. 
 "It may be a trick to get the money sooner. 
 Pray don't give him any before night." 
 
 Mrs. Sheldon went to the door and admitted 
 the boy, who showed no disposition to respond 
 to her questions, saying merely that he guessed 
 the job was safe now, and that he would come 
 for his pay at nine o'clock. 
 
 " And then you will tell me how you persuaded 
 them," she proposed. 
 
 "Not much," he replied, winking slyly. "When 
 I get a good thing, I keep it to myself." 
 
 And indeed it was long before the lady, or any 
 of her family, learned the secret of his power to 
 control the actions of that lawless tribe. 
 
 The Baby, or the Coyote, as it less offended his 
 dignity to be designated, was a strategist. Out- 
 side of the narrow range of his obscure life and 
 class he knew nothing, but with the nature and 
 characteristics of his associates he was pretty 
 thoroughly acquainted. To this accurate under- 
 
GRACIE S GODSON 125 
 
 standing he owed the success of the scheme he 
 had devised for the abatement of Mrs. Sheldon's 
 grievance and his own pecuniary advantage. 
 
 When he came forth, after pledging himself to 
 undertake the difficult enterprise, he assumed an 
 air of dense preoccupation, scarcely heeding the 
 acclamations which greeted him. To the inqui- 
 ries of his most intimate friends he vouchsafed 
 only the curtest replies. 
 
 "Where's your papes, Baby?" 
 
 " JSTo use for 'em ; got a bigger job on hand ;" 
 and he wrenched the saw blade away from a 
 weaker brother, as heretofore described, and com- 
 menced a series of variations on the fence with 
 all the might of his soul and body. 
 
 This was mysterious, and a mystery is not the 
 sort of thing to be passed by the ordinary street 
 arab without probing. The big boys began to 
 transfer their interest from the pursuit of the 
 hour to their comrade's behavior. Without con- 
 sultation, but inspired by a common impulse, they 
 drew aside and studied him. So far as they could 
 perceive, he was entirely unconscious of this scru- 
 tiny, and they soon proceeded to more active and 
 direct methods of investigation. 
 
 "Say, Baby, what's up?" 
 
 " Gone out o' de newspaper biz, Baby ?" 
 
 " Who's in wid yer on de new lay ?" 
 
126 GEACIE S GODSON 
 
 " Got Vanderbilk for a pardner, Baby ?" 
 These and similar inquiries received no atten- 
 tion, and the temper of the crowd went through 
 a variety of hasty changes, until it rose to a state 
 of high excitement. Then the Baby desisted from 
 his labors and condescended to explain. 
 
 " See here, there's a lot o' sick kids in that 
 house. Not very sick, but too sick to be let out. 
 Nothin' them kids likes so much as rattlin' on 
 these here rails. If they can't do it themselves, 
 they hanker to hear it. Cry for it all clay long. 
 Just tickled to death when we started in this 
 afternoon. Mother called me in, and offered me 
 a half to keep it up till supper -time. What's 
 papers to that ? Oh yes ; I guess not. You let 
 me alone ; I've struck it solid this stretch, I tell 
 yer." 
 
 " Say, Baby, did she pay yer down ?" 
 " Never you mind ; the pay's all safe. Stand 
 out o' the way there." 
 
 " Goin' to let us in, Baby, ain't yer ?" 
 " What '11 I let yer in for? This job belongs 
 to me." 
 
 "Ain't we goin' to get nothin' for what we've 
 been doin' ? We've been hard at work amusin' 
 dem kids for nigh an hour. We don't go round 
 serenadin' sick kids free gratis dis year, does we, 
 fellers?" 
 
gracie's godson 127 
 
 "JSTot if we knows it," was the tenor of the 
 general cry. 
 
 "Look a-here, Jim Broggins," said the Baby, 
 addressing the tallest and leanest of the pack, 
 and assuming an accent of wounded virtue, "what 
 d'yer want to break me up for ? Just you go 
 along and spot a house for yerself that's got sick 
 kids into it. I ain't a-tryin' to crowd you out 
 nowhere." 
 
 " Oh, ain't yer ?" rejoined the lank Broggins. 
 " Well, we ain't agoin' to be crowded out here, 
 neider. What d'yer say, fellers \ We've been 
 buildin' up a business all de afternoon, and as 
 soon as it begins to pay, de Baby he waltzes in 
 and scoops de profits. Wants to play it on us, 
 he does. Well, it don't go. Yer've got to square 
 wid us Baby, or we'll make yer keep still, any- 
 way." 
 
 A loud chorus of assent attested the universal 
 agreement in this decision, and the Baby, artfully 
 allowing his countenance to fall, appeared greatly 
 dejected. 
 
 "What's the good of half a dollar among a 
 dozen of us ?" he said, moodily. 
 
 "No good at all," answered Broggins, promptly. 
 " She's got to give more. De idea of expectin' 
 us to entertain a lot o' lazy kids at dat cheap 
 figure. You go and fix it, Baby." 
 
128 GKACIE S GODSON 
 
 " No use,'' objected the wily speculator, shak- 
 ing his head emphatically. 
 
 " Den yoiCll shut up shop, clat's all." 
 
 " Tell yer what I'll do, Jim Broggins," the 
 young diplomatist said, after a moment of pre- 
 tended meditation. " Step over here, you and 
 our partic'lar chums." 
 
 He beckoned half a dozen of his special allies, 
 and confided to them privately that while it was 
 out of the question to look for any Such remu- 
 neration as would satisfy the entire assemblage, 
 there was a possibility that he might persuade the 
 lady to give enough for the needs of a select 
 committee like themselves. For the small fry it 
 would not matter. They could be frozen out. If 
 they put on airs, they should be summarily dealt 
 with. He would do his best to get the terms 
 fixed at a quarter apiece for the six of them, and 
 if any fellow thought he could drive a better bar- 
 gain, let him go up and try. 
 
 " Go it, Baby ; you're de daisy !" shouted Brog- 
 gins ; and his sentiments were enthusiastically 
 echoed by the new combination. 
 
 In supposed pursuance of this object, the del- 
 egate returned to the house and held his brief 
 second interview with Mrs. Sheldon. "When he 
 came forth again, the gloom of unutterable woe 
 and disappointment was stamped upon his brow. 
 
ORACIE S GODSON 129 
 
 "What's up, Baby? Won't she come to time? 11 
 
 " She's a stiff 'un, fellers. Said she'd set her 
 dog on me, if she warn't afraid my clothes would 
 p'ison him." 
 
 "What for?" 
 
 " I told her the whole story, and said we'd do 
 it up handsome for a dollar 'n' a half all round, 
 every afternoon. She just stuck out her chin and 
 made faces. Then I asked her what she'd agree 
 to, and she said half a dollar, and no more. I 
 told her we couldn't afford it, nohow ; that we'd 
 got an organization and would go on strike, every 
 one of us, if she didn't meet us fair and liberal. 
 I thought that would scare her, but she up and 
 laughed. ' I kin git a boy any time to do it for 
 a half, or less,' says she. ' Bet yer what yer 
 like yer can't,' says I, ' not when we're on strike.' 
 'Why not ?' says she. ' Cause we'll up and bycutt 
 him,' says I. ' What d'yer mean by that ?' says 
 she. ' Why,' says I, ' we'll roll him in the gutter 
 and scrub him with brick-bats if he tries it on.' 
 ' Oh,' says she, ' that's bycuttin, is it ?' ' That's 
 the size of it,' says I, ' only sometimes it's bigger.' 
 ' Well,' says she, ' I kin buy all the fence music 
 I want for half a dollar a day, and you may 
 consider yourself discharged.' 'Good enough, 
 ma'am,' says I; 'you an' yer kids '11 have no 
 more fun out o' them iron railin's till yer plank 
 
130 GEACIE S GODSON 
 
 down.' Then she went sassy, and let on abont the 
 dog, and insulted me clothes, and I got out in a 
 hurry. But never mind, fellers. Let her find 
 out we're in earnest, and she'll have to give in. 
 Do what I tell yer, and we're dead sure to win 
 this trick." 
 
 IV 
 
 A wild howl of rage bore testimony that the 
 orator had rightly estimated the spirit of his 
 party. After a very brief deliberation it was 
 unanimously resolved that no sound of cheerful 
 clangor should be permitted to arise from the 
 fence from that time forth. The " kids " should 
 have none of their favorite lullaby until the 
 mother was prepared to pay for it at the fair 
 and reasonable valuation stipulated by the com- 
 mittee through their authorized representative. 
 The league of six was divided into sections for 
 patrol duty, and in case of any attempt by a 
 stranger, or by the smaller bo} r s of the present 
 crowd, to perform at reduced prices to the injury 
 of the union, an alarm was to be given, and a 
 general rally called for the suppression of cheap 
 labor. This state of things was to be maintained 
 for a week, or longer if necessary ; but it was 
 
GRACIE S GODSON 131 
 
 felt that grinding capital, in the person of the 
 lady of the house, could not hold out more than 
 a day or two in face of the opposition organized 
 and directed by the newsboy and his indignant 
 retinue. 
 
 At nine o'clock in the evening the Baby, care- 
 ful to avoid detection by his mates, presented him- 
 self, according to appointment, at Mrs. Sheldon's 
 door. He was admitted by a servant, who, under 
 instructions, led him once again to the sick- 
 chamber. The fond mother could not doubt 
 that it would gratify the boy to be received 
 there — to witness for himself the beneficial 
 change brought about by a few hours of undis- 
 turbed repose, and to be rewarded by the little 
 girl's acknowledgments, as well as her own. 
 She hoped that he would thus be inspired to re- 
 newed exertions on behalf of the patient for 
 whose welfare he was striving, at least in part. 
 It did not seem credible to her loving heart that 
 even the most abandoned of his class could look 
 upon that frail and delicate creature without be- 
 ing touched by sympathy and stirred by unselfish 
 emotions. She believed, moreover, that by this 
 unusual mark of confidence she could appeal to 
 the sense of humanity that must be lingering 
 somewhere within him, and in this manner con- 
 fer a better return for his service than that of the 
 
132 gracie' s godson 
 
 mere payment in money. It would have been 
 hard to convince her that all these fancies were 
 based upon an entirely misplaced faith, and that 
 it was utterly beyond her power to kindle a 
 spark of generosity in that hardened and unen- 
 lightened soul. A face like his, she told herself 
 too trustfully, surely could not represent a wholly 
 evil mind. 
 
 The invalid was wide awake when he entered, 
 and as he stepped to the bedside he pulled off 
 his cap with a quick movement, and deposited it, 
 as before, in the bosom of his shirt. Either he 
 remembered the admonition of the afternoon, or 
 a new instinct of propriety had dawned upon 
 him. He did not open his mouth, but waited for 
 some other person to break the silence. 
 
 " Gracie dear," said Mrs. Sheldon, "here is the 
 little boy who stopped the noise in the street for 
 you. We could have done nothing without him." 
 
 The child fixed her eyes earnestly upon him 
 before replying. 
 
 " I'm so glad," she presently murmured. " It 
 did hurt me dreadfully, mamma." 
 
 " Won't you thank him for the pains he took V 
 continued Mrs. Sheldon. 
 
 " He knows I thank him," answered Gracie ; 
 " of course he knows." 
 
 "I thank you too," said the mother. "We are 
 
GKACIE S GODSON 133 
 
 all grateful. She could not sleep until you sent 
 the boys away. You can see how much good 
 you have done." 
 
 "Will he always be as good ?" inquired Grade- 
 
 " Ask him, dear." 
 
 " Will you 2" said the child, again turning her 
 gaze upon him. 
 
 He glanced first at Grade, and then at Mrs. 
 Sheldon, with a very uneasy expression. This 
 sort of questioning was not in his calculations. 
 Were they trying to make him forget that they 
 owed him half a dollar? No ; the little girl was 
 too sick to be put up to any such trick as that. She 
 wasn't the kind, either, to play shabby games on 
 a fellow. What eyes she had — how big and 
 bright ; though, it was the disease, to be sure, 
 that made them so big and bright. He won- 
 dered how they looked when she was well. Did 
 she speak that way when she was up and run- 
 ning about — so soft and chirpy? "Just like a 
 bird might," he thought, "if a bird could say 
 things." 
 
 " Will you be good again, and not have any 
 noise to-morrow ?" asked Grade, once more. 
 
 The boy nodded his head affirmatively, but 
 gave no response in words. Possibly he was con- 
 scious of the absurdity of binding himself by a 
 ridiculous pledge to " be good," though ready to 
 
134 GEACIE S GODSON 
 
 adhere to the more practical part of his agree- 
 ment. 
 
 " He has promised, dear; I know he will," said 
 Mrs. Sheldon. " And now say good-night ; yon 
 mustn't talk any more." 
 
 " Good-night," repeated Gracie, smiling at him 
 from her pillow. k ' Come again soon." 
 
 He seemed on the point of answering in some 
 fashion, when the nurse walked into the room and 
 uttered an exclamation of discontent at seeing 
 him. Instantly his face grew dark and morose, 
 and he drew away, muttering, "Gi' me my half- 
 dollar and let me go." 
 
 Mrs. Sheldon went for the money to a toilet- 
 stand in a corner, upon which several pieces of 
 jewelry were lying exposed. The boy followed 
 her movements with a strained attention. Had 
 she perceived the fierce avidity with which his 
 eyes rested upon the flashing gems, she would 
 have hesitated to indulge the kindly purposes she 
 had in view, and recognized the weakness of at- 
 tempting reclamation by any means at her com- 
 mand. But her amiable disposition prompted 
 her to judge all who came near with the utmost 
 charity ; and even in this extreme case she could 
 make no exception. 
 
 For several successive days the Baby main- 
 tained his hold upon her consideration by the 
 
_) n 
 
 GRACIE S GODSON 135 
 
 thoroughness with which he performed the duty 
 he had assumed. It needed all the ingenuity he 
 could exercise to preserve discipline among his 
 disorderly band, but through a full week he suc- 
 ceeded in keeping their expectations alive, and 
 persuading them that their true policy was to 
 wait for overtures from the other side. At the 
 end of this time Gracie's recovery was so nearly 
 assured that Mrs. Sheldon's worst apprehensions 
 had disappeared. The child would soon be well 
 enough to be removed to the country, and the 
 noises of the street were no longer likely to cause 
 her serious injury. 
 
 V 
 
 The Baby came regularly each evening for his 
 stipend. Once or twice he was seen by Mr. 
 Sheldon, who chaffed him to a point of high 
 irritation. Mr. Sheldon also chaffed his wife, 
 declaring that she had been duped by a midget 
 of an impostor ; that a word to the police would 
 have accomplished everything the tatterdemalion 
 pretended to secure ; and that the warm-hearted 
 lady had simply been carried away by the delu- 
 sive good looks of the young scamp, and cajoled 
 
136 GRACIE S GODSON 
 
 into the belief that he was better than the aver- 
 age of his order by the light of his large blue 
 eyes, the glow of his complexion, and the glitter 
 of his golden hair. But Mr. Sheldon knew per- 
 fectly well all the while that the protection of 
 the police could have been obtained in such a 
 matter only at great trouble and cost, if at all ; 
 and he was, in fact, well contented to avail him- 
 self of the newsboy's agency, without inquiring 
 too curiously as to the methods employed. He 
 was correct, however, in his supposition that the 
 lad was no better than the average of his tribe. 
 He might have gone a great deal further. The 
 Baby was not only much worse than the average, 
 but, through corrupt associations and debasing 
 influences, had reached a depth of badness below 
 which it would scarcely have been possible for 
 him to descend. 
 
 Throughout the whole of his unhappy life the 
 poor outcast had had no chance. He knew noth- 
 ing of his father or mother, and had never heard 
 even his own name. He had grown to his pres- 
 ent age in the midst of the most depraved sur- 
 roundings, and been taught to believe that the 
 only natural laws were those of self-preservation 
 and indiscriminate pillage. In conformity to 
 these, he kept no earthly end in view but the 
 immediate satisfaction of his individual necessi- 
 
GRACIE S GODSON 137 
 
 ties. He was a newsboy not especially by in- 
 clination, but because this calling helped him in 
 the easiest way to a livelihood. He would have 
 preferred to steal, and meant to when he grew 
 older, but the time for adopting that agreeable 
 and exciting vocation as a regular career had not 
 yet arrived. If opportunities presented them- 
 selves, however, there was no reason why he 
 should not turn them to account ; and unless he 
 was greatly mistaken, one of the prime opportu- 
 nities of his life was now beckoning him to im- 
 prove it. 
 
 "What had hitherto stood most in the way of 
 his ambition was the deplorable effeminacy of his 
 personal appearance. With the spirit of a man, 
 as he imagined, he was disgraced by the exterior 
 of a girl. He would have given anything to 
 exchange the good looks which by some freak 
 of circumstance clung to him through all vicis- 
 situdes for the utmost coarseness and ungainli- 
 ness that nature could provide. "When he was 
 younger he had lain awake nights fretting over 
 this irremediable misfortune. For a while he 
 would not admit to himself that it was irremedi- 
 able. He was not prepared to go to the length 
 of damaging his sight or destroying the useful- 
 ness of his teeth, but he ardently envied the 
 bleared eyes and tobacco -stained fangs of the 
 
138 GEACTE S GODSON 
 
 "toughs" whom he admired. He did his best 
 to hide the odious red and white of his skin 
 under coatings of grime, and tortured his inven- 
 tion to discover schemes for reducing his hair to 
 subjection. This was the severest of his trials. 
 He once prevailed upon a friendly shoeblack to 
 "shine his head up" and put a first-class five- 
 cent polish on his tawny mane, but the result 
 was not sufficiently lasting to be thoroughly ap- 
 proved. A companion fertile in suggestion pro- 
 posed shaving his crown and pricking india-ink 
 into the scalp, but it could not be shown that 
 this expedient had ever been successfully prac- 
 tised, and it was dismissed without a test. It 
 might be true, the Baby admitted, that you 
 could take the curl out of a puppy's tail by cut- 
 tins: it off, but that was because the tail would 
 not grow again, whereas a boy's hair would 
 grow ; and it was a question which never could 
 be answered to his satisfaction, whether the curl 
 in his case was not a more burdensome affliction 
 than the color. 
 
 During all his visits to the sick girl's cham- 
 ber the young rogue's thoughts were bent upon 
 plunder. His quick sight had caught the glim- 
 mer of the jewels upon the toilet -stand, and he 
 had listened greedily to the statement that the 
 windows were left open at all times. He had 
 
gkacie's godson 139 
 
 observed that a trellis thinly covered with vines 
 was affixed to the front of the house, and after 
 diligent examination from without and within it 
 was plain to him that no extraordinary agility 
 would be required to effect a secret entrance. 
 He did not know whether the little invalid was 
 ever left alone at night, but this he would en- 
 deavor to learn. At any rate, there would prob- 
 ably be no wide-awake watch kept when she 
 began to get really better. 
 
 On his second evening call Gracie greeted her 
 odd visitor almost like an acquaintance. With 
 her pretty smile and pleasant voice she bade him 
 welcome, and told him she was ever so obliged 
 for the quiet and comfortable day he had given 
 her. As before, he manifested no desire to be 
 sociable; but since it was to his advantage to 
 make himself as familiar as possible with the lo- 
 cality, he thought it well to prolong his stay by 
 entering into conversation. 
 
 "What is your name?'' asked Gracie, as he 
 stood looking stolidly at her. 
 
 "Nem'mind my name," he said; less gruffly, 
 however, than when Mrs. Sheldon had put the 
 same question. 
 
 "But you must tell me," insisted the child. 
 " How can I talk to you if I don't know your 
 name ?" 
 
140 GKACIE S GODSON 
 
 " Well, some folks calls me Baby," he replied, 
 half sheepishly, half defiantly. 
 
 "Why, that's what mamma and papa often 
 call me !" exclaimed Gracie. " How funny 1" 
 
 " That's all right," the boy exclaimed. " You 
 are a baby ; I'm a man !" 
 
 " Oh !" said Gracie, somewhat doubtfully. " But 
 you ought to have a name, and Baby belongs to 
 me. I shall call you Robin." 
 
 "Why Robin, dear?" her mother inquired. 
 
 " Because his face is like my picture of Robin 
 Goodfellow, and he has been good to me ; that's 
 one reason. Then look at him, mamma — he's all 
 red, just like a real robin ; don't you see ?" 
 
 The Baby mumbled in a manner denoting dis- 
 satisfaction. The compliment made no impres- 
 sion on him, and the allusion to his distinguish- 
 ing hue offended his pride. Still, if she wanted 
 to call him Robin, why not? It sounded nice 
 and comfortable, as she said it, and, so far as he 
 could judge, it was an improvement upon either 
 of his more familiar titles. 
 
 From that time he was Robin to the child and 
 to all who saw him in the Sheldon house, saving 
 the nurse, whose aversion never diminished, and 
 who refused to speak of him except as " the brat " 
 to the servants, and " that saucebox " to her em- 
 ployers. Her hostility did not make it appear 
 
gracie's godson 141 
 
 at all necessary to Mrs. Sheldon that he be ex- 
 cluded from the premises. She was pleased with 
 anything in which her darling found even a tri- 
 fling interest, and she also continued to harbor 
 the fancy that it was for the good of the way- 
 ward vagrant to breathe, if only for once or 
 twice in his life, an atmosphere made pure and 
 wholesome by influences unknown in the sphere 
 to which he belonged. 
 
 YI 
 
 Foe six consecutive evenings the newsboy re- 
 appeared, always receiving his half-dollar, al- 
 though towards the end he displayed an unac- 
 countable reluctance v to taking the money in 
 Gracie's presence. On his last regular arrival 
 he was informed that the nurse was no longer in 
 attendance. This satisfied him on more grounds 
 than one. He detested her cordially, in the first 
 place, and he also knew that her absence would 
 facilitate the execution of the difficult scheme 
 which he was planning. Already he was on 
 fairly easy terms with the child, and the assur- 
 ance that his particular enemy was out of the 
 way made him quite cheerful. 
 
142 GRACIES GODSON 
 
 " I'm all well now, Robin," said Gracie. " Mam- 
 ma won't let me get up yet, but I'm truly well. 
 You ought to be glad of that." 
 
 " So I am," he replied, shortly. 
 
 " Mamma thought once that I was going to 
 die." 
 
 " Oh no ; guess not." 
 
 " She did, and so did you. I heard you say it, 
 Eobin." 
 
 He felt his face flush and scorch him, at which 
 he was very angry. " Didn't mean to," he 
 growled. 
 
 " But I knew you were sorry," she said, con- 
 solingly. " Never mind ; I shall soon be as strong 
 as ever. Nurse has gone, and I'm going to sleep 
 alone every night." 
 
 " Shouldn't think they'd let yer," he whis- 
 pered, glancing stealthily round at Mrs. Sheldon, 
 who was busy in another part of the chamber. 
 
 " Why, yes, I always do when I'm not sick. 
 Of course papa and mamma are in the next 
 room, and the door stays open." 
 
 « O' course." 
 
 "And a fortnight from to-morrow we shall 
 go to the country, if I am able to travel so 
 soon." 
 
 The boy started, and looked keenly into her 
 face. He had not hitherto given himself time 
 
GKACIE S GODSON 143 
 
 to follow out all the consequences of her re- 
 covery. 
 
 "A fortnight from to-morrow — Friday," he 
 said, slowly. " That '11 be the 1st of August, I 
 reckon." 
 
 " I don't know. You'll come and see me be- 
 fore then V 
 
 " I'll come if yer mother's willin'." 
 
 " Indeed she will be. Mamma, Kobin must 
 promise." 
 
 The mother made no objection. He under- 
 stood, however, that the nightly calls were not 
 to be continued. Mr. Sheldon had notified him 
 that, as the term of his contract was at an end, 
 the daily allowance of fifty cents would be 
 stopped ; but had added that in case there should 
 be no renewal of the street disturbances during 
 the next two weeks, he might look for a good 
 round sum — say five dollars. The Baby knew 
 perfectly well that there would be no more trou- 
 ble with the fence. The boys had grown tired 
 of the business, and had chosen another locality 
 for their pla} T ground. He was not such an idiot, 
 however, as to give this fact away to the Shel- 
 dons. He told them he should have to be on 
 watch all day long, that it was the toughest job 
 he ever put his fist to, and that it was wearing 
 the flesh off his bones. Oh yes, the money 
 
144 GEACIE S GODSON 
 
 would be well earned, and he would turn up 
 without fail at the right time to get it. 
 
 After obtaining all requisite information on 
 this point, the Baby withdrew. He was partic- 
 ularly grumpy about accepting the last half- 
 dollar which Mrs. Sheldon proffered him, and 
 snappishly refused to recognize its existence un- 
 til he was out of Grade's room. But he took it 
 readily enough then, and would have taken a 
 dozen more with all the pleasure in life if he 
 could have laid his hands upon them. 
 
 The fortnight went by, and he again stood, at 
 a late hour of the evening, by Grade's bedside. 
 Many times during the interval he had prowled 
 about the neighborhood after dark ; but he had 
 taken good care to escape observation, and, in- 
 deed, had not usually commenced his wanderings 
 until after respectable citizens had gone to sleep. 
 No one in the house suspected how constant and 
 vigilant his attendance had been. 
 
 " How long it is since I have seen you, Kobin !" 
 said the child. " I have missed you." 
 
 It was quite true. The rough boy of the 
 streets had an attraction for the delicately nurt- 
 ured girl, which could be explained only upon 
 the principle that the sharpest contrasts are 
 often the most closely drawn together. Her 
 mother thought that she regarded him with the 
 
GRACIE S GODSON 145 
 
 same interest she would have felt in a big, shag- 
 gy, handsome dog or pony. Gracie was fond of 
 animals, and this was not the first time that her 
 fancy had been caught by an out-of-the-wav 
 living plaything. 
 
 " Yer father said I was to come to-night," an- 
 swered the Baby. 
 
 "But you needn't have stayed away all the 
 time. I'm going to-morrow, and you don't know 
 when you will see me again." 
 
 " I sha'n't never see yer no more," he declared. 
 
 " Yes, you will, you foolish Robin. You can 
 come in the. morning and wish me good-bye, and 
 after I get back in the fall you'll always see me." 
 
 He shook his head, saying to himself it was 
 no use taking notice of such nonsense. He did 
 expect to see her once — just once — but she would 
 not see him, or know anything about it. A 
 pretty mess if she should ! 
 
 " Just think of not coming to see me," she re- 
 sumed, " after helping me to get well !" 
 
 " D'yer s'pose I did help ?" 
 
 " Be sure you did, you naughty boy. Mamma 
 says you kept everything still in the street ever 
 so many days, so that I could sleep and rest. 
 Don't you know that ?" 
 
 " Oh yes, I know a lot," he replied, with a bit- 
 ter vehemence which he could not himself ac- 
 
146 GKACIE S GODSON 
 
 count for, and which lie had no sort of doubt 
 was wholly unnecessary and stupid. 
 
 "Well, Zsha'n't forget it, Robin ; not ever." 
 
 She gave him a bright smile, which in some 
 way made him uncomfortable. She had smiled 
 at him often enough before this, and it had not 
 bothered him a bit after the first. It seemed to 
 be the right thing for her to do, or it might be 
 that most things she did seemed to be right. 
 P -t this time he did not like it. 
 
 r 'll have to be goin'," he announced, abruptly. 
 Zes, it is growing late," assented Mrs. Shel- 
 . approaching the bed. 
 
 " He will come for good-bye to-morrow," said 
 Gracie. 
 
 "Can't do it, nohow," the Baby protested. 
 "Can't get off work till evening." 
 
 " Then you must bid her good-bye now." 
 
 " Yes, I will." But he paused a considerable 
 while, and then added, " What '11 I say to her?" 
 
 The child laughed playfully, and the mother, 
 not understanding his indecision, said : " Any- 
 thing you choose — ' Good-bye, Gracie.' " 
 
 He looked up at her in hesitation and perplex- 
 ity. " Kin I call her Gracie ?" he asked. 
 
 " Certainly you may." 
 
 " That's my name, Robin," said Gracie, with 
 good-humored gayety. 
 
GRACIE S GODSON 147 
 
 Mrs. Sheldon was struck by a sudden swift 
 change that came over his countenance. For a 
 single moment all the precocious hardness melted 
 away, and the expression he wore offered no 
 contradiction to the beauty of his features. 
 
 " Good-bye, Grade" he repeated. The words 
 were indistinctly uttered, and Mrs. Sheldon had 
 another cause for surprise in what she took to 
 be his unprecedented diffidence. Whatever the 
 feeling was, it created within him an effect so 
 peculiar and disagreeable that he lost no time in 
 getting out of the room. JSothing exasperated 
 him more than the puzzling sensations which oc- 
 casionally came over him when he was in com- 
 munication with or thinking about the " Sheldon 
 kid." 
 
 His spirits were brightened before he left the 
 house by the present of a five-dollar note from 
 the head of the establishment, " for trying to 
 behave himself and giving Gracie something to 
 talk about." This was intended by Mr. Sheldon 
 as a token of final dismissal. He did not ap- 
 prove of certain plans which his wife had partly 
 formed for the future, and deemed it advisable 
 to let the ^little freak" sink back to his normal 
 obscurity during the absence of the family from 
 town. 
 
 " You never can make anything that isn't 
 
148 GEACIE S GODSON 
 
 crooked out of that sort of trash," lie affirmed. 
 " Give him a good send-off, and let him scamper 
 away out of sight and mind. That will be best 
 all around." 
 
 VII 
 
 Four hours later the Baby stole into the silent 
 street upon which the Sheldon house was situ- 
 ated, and reconnoitred. The night was well 
 suited to his purpose ; heavy clouds were in the 
 sky, and there was no meddlesome moonlight to 
 be feared. He did not think it necessary to take 
 extraordinary precautions, for he had been in the 
 habit latterly of roaming through the district at 
 all hours, and he knew how deserted it was sure 
 to be in the early morning. 
 
 " Never catch a cop on this beat after dark," 
 he said to himself ; " it's too genteel." 
 
 He pushed back the iron gate slowty, to pre- 
 vent it from creaking, and wedged a stone be- 
 neath it so that it should not close by itself. 
 Then he crept stealthily across the garden, avoid- 
 ing the gravel-walk and stepping only on the 
 grass, until he stood under the window to which 
 he proposed to climb. The blinds were shut; 
 but he had no doubt that he could push them 
 
G RAGLE S GODSON 149 
 
 aside, and he knew he should find no other ob- 
 stacle to his admission. 
 
 He had brought with him a fishing rod and 
 line of the simple pattern with which boys of his 
 class occasionally waste their time on the city 
 piers. Leaning this against the trellis, he started 
 upward, taking the greatest pains to keep from 
 rustling the vines or shaking the wood-work. He 
 had no difficulty in making his way aloft. His 
 shoes had been left at home, and he planted his 
 bare feet on the crossbars as noiselessly and se- 
 curely as if he were endowed with the acrobatic 
 instincts of a chimpanzee. 
 
 " Couldn't have been better," he chuckled, " if 
 they'd ha' built it for me o' purpose." 
 
 When he had gone as high as the length of his 
 fishing-rod he stopped and wound a loop of the 
 line around his neck, and then proceeded, carry- 
 ing his odd implement in this manner. The win- 
 dow was about twenty feet from the ground. On 
 reaching it he turned about and examined the 
 space below. 
 
 " I kin risk a jump," he reflected, " if old Shel- 
 don wakes up and drives me hard. He won't 
 shoot. They're all too soft for that here." 
 
 He did not at first unfasten the blinds, but 
 merely moved a slat in its socket, and peered 
 through the crevice. A lamp was dimly burning 
 
150 GEACIE S GODSON 
 
 at the bedside, and by its light he could see 
 everything within with sufficient distinctness. 
 Gracie was alone, sleeping peacefully, her sweet 
 and innocent face turned directly towards him. 
 He looked at her steadily for some minutes — 
 much longer than he was aware of — before giv- 
 ing attention to any other object. It would 
 have satisfied him better if she were not so plain- 
 ly visible. Casting his eyes about, he perceived 
 that the door through which he had been accus- 
 tomed to enter was wide open. He remembered 
 the passage beyond it, and understood that the 
 parents must be in the opposite chamber. The 
 heavy breathing of a man warned him, in fact, 
 that Mr. Sheldon was dangerously near. But 
 there was little to be alarmed at in this circum- 
 stance. It was a good thing, on the contrary, to 
 be thus assured that the head of the household 
 was not awake. A door on the other side of the 
 room was closed, and it was not likely that any 
 interruption would come from that direction. 
 
 Preparations for the journey of the following 
 day had evidently been prolonged to a late hour. 
 Many articles were removed from the toilet-stand, 
 and the contents of a chest of drawers had been 
 taken out and placed near a trunk. But the jew- 
 els which he had longed to possess himself of 
 were lying precisely where he had seen them, 
 
GEACIES GODSON 151 
 
 and were almost within his grasp as he stood 
 clinging to the window-sill. INTot only these 
 shone in plain view, but he also saw glimmering 
 in a velvet-lined box, on the top of the chest of 
 drawers, a cluster of gems which he rightfully 
 judged to be of much greater value than the 
 trinkets with which he was familiar. Was it 
 possible that he could likewise get these into his 
 clutches ? Such good-luck was almost too much 
 to hope for. He would not, at any rate, consider 
 the matter until he had gathered in the more ac- 
 cessible plunder. 
 
 He now swung the blinds gently, stirring them 
 but a fraction of an inch at a time, to make sure 
 that the hinges should not grate. "When they 
 were out of his way, and the whole breadth of 
 the window was clear, he pulled up the fishing- 
 rod and hung a large hook at the end, upon a 
 piece of line some six inches in length. This he 
 cautiously pushed into the chamber until it hov- 
 ered over the toilet-stand, about five feet in ad- 
 vance of him. The first object he fished for was 
 a slender gold bracelet. He had considerable 
 difficulty in getting the point of the hook under 
 its edge, but after this was accomplished it was 
 a simple business to lift the prize over to his 
 reach, to disengage it, and drop it into his pocket. 
 One after another he secured in the same way a 
 
152 GRACIE 7 S GODSON 
 
 second golden bracelet, a watch-chain, and a 
 small breastpin in the shape of a cross. He was 
 drawing this last towards him when his wander- 
 ing glance fell upon Gracie. He stopped short, 
 and an indescribable thrill ran through him — ■ 
 another of the queer disturbances to which he 
 had latterly been subject ; disturbances hitherto 
 foreign to his experience, and all the more un- 
 welcome from his inability to resist or explain 
 them. 
 
 "These gimcracks don't belong to her, any- 
 way," he meditated. " They're worth too much, 
 and they're too big — all except this one. I might 
 shove this one back." 
 
 But the impulse had barely shaped itself in 
 his mind when he stifled it in angry disgust at 
 his folly. Was he losing his wits ? He felt him- 
 self turning red with shame. He might as well 
 be a baby in earnest if his backbone was worth 
 no more than this to him. 
 
 He deposited the little breastpin with the rest 
 of the spoil, and went on hauling in a few less 
 costly trifles, with an occasional hungry look at 
 the more substantial and tempting assortment in 
 the far-away corner. There was the making of 
 him in that pile, he calculated. One ring alone, 
 if its gleam could be trusted, was equal to a 
 fortune, and there were at least half a dozen 
 
geacie's godson 153 
 
 strung together, of various qualities. What were 
 his chances of getting at them ? It could do no 
 harm to think them over, whether any result 
 came or not. 
 
 Presently he detached the hook and cord which 
 he had thus far put to such profitable use, and 
 taking a lump of soft putty from a pocket in his 
 shirt, moulded it into a ball on the tip of his pole. 
 If he could only cover the distance to the top of 
 the chest of drawers, and make a dab at two or 
 three of the precious stones, the game might be 
 played safely enough. But a single trial showed 
 that the stretch was too great. It was distract- 
 ing. Why had he not brought a proper pole, in- 
 stead of a toothpick like this? He wondered 
 if there was time to go in search of another. 
 No, that was out of the question. Yet to give 
 up such a splendid mass of booty, when nothing 
 stood between it and him but a half-dozen yards 
 of empty air, was enough to drive him to frenzy. 
 
 As he gazed ravenously, the blood seemed to 
 run like liquid fire through his veins, and a feel- 
 ing of blind desperation took control of him. 
 Come what might, he would not leave without 
 an effort to make those treasures his own. It 
 was worth risking his liberty or his limbs, and 
 almost his life. A fury of greed was upon him. 
 He lowered the fishing-rod to the ground outside, 
 
154 GKACIE S GODSON 
 
 and in an instant slipped through, the window, 
 alighting noiselessly on the floor. The thick car- 
 pet deadened his footsteps, and enabled him to 
 walk without a sound to the open door. Closing 
 this with a deftness of touch that showed he had 
 not thrown aside the methods of prudence in the 
 madness of his rash resolve, he turned the key, 
 and sprang behind a large arm-chair for conceal- 
 ment in case the lock should snap so loudly as to 
 awaken the sleeping girl. But the click was 
 scarcely audible, and she did not stir. 
 
 Watching her narrowly, he swiftly crept 
 around the bed and stood facing the box which 
 contained the brilliants. The collection was not 
 so magnificent as he believed, but it was dazzling 
 enough to have set the covetous instincts of a 
 much more mature thief glowing at white-heat. 
 It made him giddy to have them so near his eyes. 
 And they were all his, or would be in less than 
 five minutes. Should he take box and all, or 
 transfer the contents to his pockets ? The box, 
 by all means. It was heavy, but he could get 
 it down into the garden without much effort, and 
 empty it there, comparatively at his leisure. 
 
 Thus deciding, he lifted it with both hands, 
 and started to return to the window. 
 
"in an instant he slipped through the window 1 
 
GRACIE S GODSON 155 
 
 VIII 
 
 " Aee you looking at my bangles, Kobin ?" 
 
 The voice was gentle and subdued, as he had 
 always heard it, and the words came in a drowsy 
 little murmur, but a thunder-clap could not have 
 fallen upon the Baby's ear with a sharper shock. 
 He staggered as he set the box down, and the 
 room seemed whirling around before his eyes ; 
 but even in that moment of terror and confusion 
 his cunning did not desert him. 
 
 " Hush ! hush !" he said, in a tremulous whis- 
 per, running hastily to the bedside. " Don't 
 speak so loud. Yer mother's fast asleep." 
 
 " Oh yes ; then she left you to take care of me, 
 I suppose." 
 
 " Talk soft, I tell yer. She's all tired out. I'm 
 a-lookin' after yer while she rests." 
 
 " Poor mamma ! I'll be ever so careful. Did 
 you come to say good-bye again V 
 
 " Yes, yes ; that's what I come for." 
 
 " I'm glad I waked up. Thank you, Robin ; 
 you are always a good boy. Do you like to see 
 my bangles ?" 
 
 " Them things i I seen 'em just now." 
 
156 GKACIE S GODSON 
 
 " Please bring them here ; I will show you." 
 The boy obeyed her mechanically, keeping a 
 close watch upon the door he had locked, and 
 with every muscle ready for a dash to the win- 
 dow at the slightest sound from another part of 
 the house. 
 
 " But these are not mine ; these are mamma's. 
 Turn up the light, Robin ; see how beautiful they 
 are. My bangles are smooth and plain. Won't 
 you look for them ?" 
 
 Her bangles ! Then the things now in his 
 pockets did belong to her — some of them at 
 least. He stared at her wildly and half dazed. 
 " Where'll I find 'em ?" he said, huskily. 
 " What makes you speak so strange, Robin ?" 
 " So's not to make a noise. Hush !" 
 " Oh, but you look strange, too ; your forehead 
 is all wet." 
 
 " It's nothin'. Lemme get your things." 
 He went to the table, and while pretending to 
 make a search, contrived to remove the orna- 
 ments from his pockets without being observed 
 by Gracie. 
 
 " These what yer want ?" he asked, return- 
 ing. 
 
 " Yes, these are mine." She lifted the little 
 breastpin and held it out to him. " See, Robin, 
 this was for you." 
 
GKACIE S GODSON 157 
 
 " What d'yer mean ?" lie said, taking it from 
 her with a shaking hand. 
 
 " One evening, after you went away, I made 
 mamma promise me — if I should die — to give it 
 to you for a keepsake." 
 
 " No, yer didn't ! Yer didn't do it ; don't yer 
 tell me that !" The poor wretch dropped the 
 cross upon the floor and hid his face, now hag- 
 gard and distorted with pain. 
 
 "What's the matter, Robin? I didn't die; 
 I'm well again, you see. You mustn't cry." 
 
 "I ain't a-cryin'. I never cried in my life. 
 It's hot here ; I'm goin' away. Gi' me them 
 shiners ; I'll put 'em back ; I'll put 'em all 
 back." 
 
 He did this hurriedly, and then picked up the 
 pin he had let fall, and laid it on the bed. 
 
 " You may keep that, Robin," said the child. 
 " I know mamma will let me give it to you. I 
 want } T ou to have it, because you felt so sorry 
 just now." 
 
 The boy caught at his throat and breast as if 
 he were suffocating. Never had he felt a pang 
 like that which now shot through him. 
 
 "D'yer want — to drag out — my heart — and 
 stamp on it?" he gasped. "No, no," he added, 
 with a sudden change of manner; "don't be 
 frightened. I wouldn't frighten yer for the whole 
 
158 GKACIE S GODSON 
 
 world — Grade. I'm sick, that's all. I'm not fit 
 to be here." 
 
 "Poor Robin, how white you are! No, I 
 never am frightened. But if you are sick I will 
 call mamma." 
 
 " No, no," he stammered ; " I'll be right as 
 soon as I get out. Don't say a word. Keep still 
 just a minute more." 
 
 " But you must take the cross to remember me 
 by." 
 
 " I can't do it ; wish I could, but I can't. If 
 you had some cheap thing to give me — " 
 
 " This is cheap enough, you silly boy. I want 
 you to have it." 
 
 " Then I will, and thank yer. And I'll say 
 good-bye— the last time." 
 
 " Till I come home again," she answered, cheer- 
 fully. 
 
 " The last time ; the last time !" 
 
 He sprang to the window, and had one foot 
 over the edge before she guessed his intention. 
 Startled at the unexpected action, she raised her- 
 self on her elbow and called out loudly : " What 
 are you doing, Robin ? You'll kill yourself !" 
 
 He whirled about, and lifted his arm with a 
 gesture of entreaty. As he did this the trinket 
 slipped from his fingers and fell upon the carpet. 
 At the same moment a rush was heard in the 
 
GRACIE S GODSON 159 
 
 passage, and a heavy blow was struck against 
 the door. His head began to spin, but though 
 dizzy with excitement he still had no fear of 
 capture, for the door was locked, and he knew 
 he could reach the garden with a bound. Even 
 at this desperate crisis he had other thoughts 
 than those of escape. 
 
 " I can't go without it !" he exclaimed, darting 
 back and stooping for the cross. He found it in 
 an instant, but before he could fling himself out- 
 side of the window, the child, roused to an activity 
 of which he could not have believed her capa- 
 ble, leaped from the bed and seized him by the 
 arm. 
 
 " You are crazy, Robin !" she screamed. 
 
 " Lemme jump !" he cried, hoarsely, struggling, 
 though not with violence, to release himself. 
 " Ter'll be the death of me !" 
 
 While the words were on his lips, the door at 
 the extremity of the room, which he had not 
 thought it necessary to secure, was thrown open, 
 and in a flash Mr. Sheldon was upon him, grip- 
 ping his neck fiercely. A second later the boy 
 was sprawling on the floor and the enraged 
 father glaring down at him with flaming eyes. 
 
 " Oh, papa, take care ; it's Robin," pleaded 
 Grade, crying piteously in her agitation and 
 affright. 
 
160 GRACIE S GODSON 
 
 " Get back to bed, dear," Mr. Sheldon replied ; 
 " I have him safe." 
 
 " Yes, yer've got me," sneered the Baby, " and 
 how did yer get me ? Yer don't s'pose she could 
 ha' held me if — " 
 
 " If what, you ruffian ?" 
 
 " If I hadn't been afraid o' hurtin' her ?" 
 
 " Gracie, are you hurt ?" her father hastily ex- 
 claimed. 
 
 " Why, no, papa ; it's Eobin !" 
 
 " Yes, yes ; go to your bed." 
 
 Mr. Sheldon was on the point of calling for his 
 wife, when that lady entered, in great alarm. 
 
 " This brute has broken into the house," said 
 the husband, pointing to the Baby, who had now 
 risen. "And see; what's this he has in his 
 hand? Gracie's gold cross— the thief!" 
 
 " I gave it to him, papa. He didn't want to 
 take it, but I made him." 
 
 "Indeed ! Then where — " Mr. Sheldon glanced 
 around the room, and, to his amazement, saw that 
 although the other valuables had been somewhat 
 disarranged, they were all apparently in or near 
 the places where they had been left. 
 
 " Why did you come here?" said Mrs. Sheldon 
 to the Baby, more sternly than he had ever 
 heard her speak. 
 
 Loyal little Gracie would not leave her protege 
 
"'OH, PAPA, TAKE CARE; IT6 ROBES,' PLEADED GRACIE " 
 
GEACIE S GODSON 1G1 
 
 undefended. "He came to bid me good-bye 
 again," she declared, with great animation, sit- 
 ting upright in her bed. 
 
 "Hush, my daughter!" her mother commanded, 
 folding the grieved little creature in her arms. 
 " Say nothing unless you are asked." 
 
 " But you don"t understand, mamma," Grade 
 remonstrated, too eager and anxious to yield the 
 accustomed submission. " He has been here ever 
 so long. I showed him all your ornaments, and 
 we talked about everything." 
 
 " How did he get here ?" 
 
 "I don't know; he told me — " Gracie checked 
 herself, recalling the deception of the lad's first 
 speeches. 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " He told me a story, I'm afraid," the girl con- 
 fessed, hanging her head. 
 
 " You may be sure he did," cried her father. 
 "The fellow is all lies. You came in by the 
 window, you impudent vagabond. "What was it 
 for?" 
 
 " You heard what she said," replied the Baby, 
 stolidty, and hunching his shoulders. 
 
 " I heard that, but I want to know the truth." 
 
 " George, if it should be the truth," said Mrs. 
 Sheldon, appealingly, as the culprit remained si- 
 lent. It did not strike the devoted mother as so 
 
162 GRACIE S GODSON 
 
 very unnatural that a rude outcast of immature 
 years should have become romantically attached 
 to her child, or that his adoration should mani- 
 fest itself in fantastic escapades. 
 
 "Nonsense, Helena! How can you say such 
 things? Do you imagine a fellow like this can 
 be moved by the feelings which you attribute to 
 him % There ! let us end the matter. Look to 
 Gracie, and I will question him in our room. 
 Are the servants astir ?" 
 
 " I think not." 
 
 " Yery good ; they are not to be called until I 
 have need of one of them." 
 
 Ordering the Baby to follow him, he went to 
 his own chamber. This time Gracie made no 
 protest. She was sad and bewildered. The dis- 
 covery that her Robin had been guilty of false- 
 hood was a stroke that shattered her simple faith 
 in him. 
 
 " Papa will do what is right," said her mother, 
 striving to soothe her. " You know he never 
 wishes to be harsh or unforgiving." But she 
 felt that the boy had forfeited every claim to 
 forbearance, and had little hope that her hus- 
 band would be mercifully inclined towards one 
 who had so shamefully abused her kindness and 
 trust. 
 
GKACIE S GODSON 163 
 
 IX 
 
 Mr. Sheldon paced the floor, thinking rapidly. 
 The case certainly presented strange features. 
 He had seen for himself that the boy need not 
 have been caught if he had chosen to exert his 
 strength in repulsing the little girl. He had 
 stood almost passive while her arms were wound 
 about him. That was to be noted in his favor. 
 As to the jewels, he had handled them all, and 
 made no attempt to carry a single one away, ex- 
 cept the trifle w T hich Gracie insisted she had 
 forced upon him. Yet why should he be in the 
 house at all ? It was a most mysterious business ; 
 but the more he reflected upon it, the less he was 
 inclined to press an investigation. It would com- 
 pel him to defer his visit to the country, and 
 bring upon him and his family a notoriety not 
 at all to his taste. He particularly dreaded the 
 ridicule w T hich, he foresaw, would attach to his 
 wife for the injudicious confidence she had lav- 
 ished upon this young house-breaker. 
 
 After deliberating perhaps five minutes, he 
 stopped walking, and announced his decision 
 thus : 
 
1G-4 GRACIE S GODSON 
 
 " I don't see why I should waste time over a 
 vagabond of your pattern. It will be more 
 trouble to me to have you arrested than to let 
 you run clear. You can go — though it is better 
 luck than you deserve — and a good riddance to 
 you." 
 
 The Baby did not stir. He too seemed to 
 have something to turn over in his mind. He 
 waited so long that Mr. Sheldon sharply bade 
 him bestir himself and leave. The only re- 
 sponse was a most unexpected inquiry : 
 
 " Am I to go for good ?" 
 
 " Good or bad, I don't care. What do you 
 mean ?" 
 
 "I mean, will yer ever let me come here 
 again ?" 
 
 Mr. Sheldon laughed in mockery at this daring 
 flight of audacity. " You have cheek enough 
 for a regiment of burglars," he said. 
 
 " So I sha'n't never speak to her after this ?" 
 
 "Who — my daughter? Not if I can help it. 
 Come along, and make haste." 
 
 " Then I won't go," said the boy, stubbornly. 
 
 " You won't ? We shall see about that !" ex- 
 claimed Mr. Sheldon, beginning to lose his tem- 
 per at this crowning exhibition of insolence. 
 
 " I don't go out of the house no such a way as 
 this. I'll stav where I am till I'm run in, and 
 
GRACIE S GODSON 165 
 
 then I'll take my term in Sing Sing. That's 
 what's the matter with me, and yer may make 
 what yer please of it !" 
 
 The Baby's intention was so energetically 
 stated, and with snch intensity of emphasis, that 
 Mr. Sheldon more than half suspected he was 
 dealing with a lunatic ; but he was not left long 
 in this misconception. 
 
 " Yer kin send for a cop, and 111 blow the 
 whole trick. I came here to lift them di'monds 
 and things — just that an' nothin' else. I had 
 half of 'em stowed in my pocket one time. I'm 
 a thief, that's what I am. Now bring along yer 
 police an' yer handcuffs ; I'm ready !" 
 
 Here was a real surprise. The rascal was in 
 earnest; there could be no question about that. 
 He looked his captor full in the face, which he 
 had not done before, and there Yv r as a glitter in 
 his eye which betokened spirit at least, and dog- 
 ged resolution. 
 
 " Why do you tell me this V inquired the as- 
 tonished gentleman. 
 
 " 'Cause yer say I sha'n't see her no more." 
 
 " Do you think you are fit to see her ?" 
 
 Mr. Sheldon was vexed with himself as soon 
 as he put this interrogation. What business had 
 he to be parleying with the cub % The proper 
 course was to get him out of the way as quickly 
 
1G6 GRACIE S GODSON 
 
 as possible. But he had asked the question, and 
 would hear the answer. 
 
 " I ainH fit to see her; I know that well enough 
 — hut I want to^ 
 
 The Baby's face was ghastly to look at after 
 he had uttered these words. His teeth were set 
 fast, the muscles of his mouth were contracted, 
 and his forehead was twisted and wrinkled with 
 the effort he made to hold himself in restraint. 
 Tears gathered in his eyes — not such tears as 
 are shed on light provocation of boyish grief or 
 shame, but tears that were wrung from him by 
 an anguish the like of which he had never known 
 before, and which he was as unable to compre- 
 hend as to control. They scalded him as they 
 fell upon his cheeks, but he made no attempt to 
 wipe them away, and kept his lids wide apart, 
 staring straight before him. He felt that it was 
 a degrading weakness for one of his stamp to 
 cry like a sick girl, but he would not add to it 
 the greater weakness of concealment. Since his 
 treacherous nerves had given way and allowed 
 all his pluck to forsake him, he could certainly 
 gain nothing by setting up a ridiculous pretence 
 of fortitude. 
 
 Mr. Sheldon was a practical man of the world, 
 and if anybody had related to him the incidents 
 in which he was now taking part he would have 
 
ORACIE S GODSON 167 
 
 laughed at the notion, that the lad could be sin- 
 cere. But the evidence of his own senses could 
 not be resisted. The suffering was genuine, 
 whatever the cause, and he was not so hard or 
 severe a man as to be able to witness it with- 
 out a shade of pity. Was it indeed conceivable 
 that the unconscious influence of a little child 
 had brought this untamed animal to such a de- 
 gree of subjugation ? He had heard of similar 
 occurrences, particularly in romances and on the 
 stage, but had never considered them entitled to 
 much credit. Yet who should presume to limit 
 the possibilities of human nature, or determine 
 by what hidden impulses the mind could be 
 swayed for good or evil ? If the boy were not 
 deceiving himself, as well as trying to deceive 
 others, he might be on the verge of a transfor- 
 mation through which the plan of his whole life 
 could be reshaped. Had he, the prosperous and 
 fortunate citizen, the right to crush out this 
 chance that was perhaps struggling to assert 
 itself for the regeneration of a vagabond and 
 criminal ? 
 
 He had not often been called upon to consider 
 his moral obligations towards people of a lower 
 social station than his own, and he was by no 
 means pleased with the position in which he now 
 found himself placed. But it was not his habit 
 
168 GKACIE S GODSON 
 
 to shirk responsibilities when he once realized 
 that they rested upon him, and after pondering 
 a while he came to a conclusion which he thought 
 just and reasonable, and which alone, he believed, 
 could lead to satisfactory results. 
 
 " Listen to me," he said, putting himself face 
 to face with the self-avowed thief : " This may 
 be a more serious moment than you suppose, and 
 you will do well to drop all nonsense and take a 
 long look ahead. You are free to go now and 
 choose your own road for one year. I don't 
 want to see you or hear from you in that time. 
 If you can come at the end of it, and prove that 
 you have led a decent life, and are endeavoring 
 to make a man of } r ourself, I'll befriend you — 
 and so shall my little girl, if she likes. I sha'n't 
 give you a penny to start with. If you're not 
 a fool, you'll know why ; if you are a fool, it 
 doesn't matter, for then you'll not come back 
 anyway. That is all I have to say. As to the 
 future, it depends entirely upon what show you 
 can make one year from now." 
 
 The Baby drew a long breath. " I'll do it," 
 he said, sturdily. " To-day's the first of August, 
 eighteen eighty-nine. Yer'll see me on the first 
 of August, eighteen ninety. I sha'n't give yer 
 no trouble till then. There's — there's just one 
 thing yer might do for me before I go. I know 
 
"SENT HIM FORTH INTO THE DARKNESS' 
 
GEACIE S GODSON 169 
 
 I ain't got no right to ask it, but yer might be 
 willing." 
 
 "You can't speak again this night to anybody 
 here," replied Mr. Sheldon, stiffly. 
 
 " Course not. I didn't go to think o' that. 
 What I meant was, perhaps yer'd let me take 
 the pin she gave me — the bit of a cross. It'd 
 do me a heap o' good if yer could. But if yer 
 don't—" 
 
 " Well, if I don't ?" 
 
 " No matter, then ; it's all right. Perhaps 
 she'll keep it for me till next year. "Will yer — 
 will yer tell her I spoke of it ?" 
 
 " You shall have it now." 
 
 Mr. Sheldon then brought the little clasp, and 
 having handed it to its new owner, led him 
 down-stairs, and sent him forth into the dark- 
 ness. 
 
 " A black night for the poor beggar," said the 
 man of ease and prosperity, as the Baby disap- 
 peared in the gloom. " Will he ever get a glimpse 
 of daylight, I wonder ?" 
 
170 GRACIE S GODSON 
 
 X 
 
 Early the next morning a soiled envelope was 
 found in the hall, with Mr. Sheldon's name pen- 
 cilled upon it in large and uneven letters. It 
 had been thrust under the front door, and it 
 contained a five- dollar note, which was imme- 
 diately recognized as the one given by the mas- 
 ter of the house to the Baby on the previous 
 evening. 
 
 The Sheldons went to the country, and re- 
 mained two months. Shortly after their return 
 another envelope, cleaner and more carefully ad- 
 dressed, was left in the same way for Grade's 
 mother. Three dollars in notes were enclosed, 
 and a scrap of paper, on which was written, " Six 
 halves = $3." 
 
 There was no doubt where the money came 
 from, nor why it was sent. Mrs. Sheldon was 
 much gratified, and her husband began to hope 
 the lad was working out his fortune in the right 
 way. Nothing was said upon the subject to their 
 child, whose recollection of the night of advent- 
 ure grew dim as the months rolled by. 
 
 Summer came again, and as the end of July 
 
GKACIE S GODSON 171 
 
 drew near Mrs. Sheldon frequently spoke of the 
 singular appointment, and discussed the prospect 
 of the Baby's reappearance. 
 
 " I shall be sadly grieved if he does not come," 
 she said. 
 
 "I shall be disappointed, too," Mr. Sheldon 
 acknowledged. "It is the only fairy story I 
 ever was mixed up in, and if our fairy stories 
 can't end as Ave want them to, what is the use 
 of having any?" 
 
 " Why do you call it a fairy story ?" asked the 
 lady. 
 
 "Blind mother, where are the eyes of your 
 imagination ?" laughed her husband, as he point- 
 ed towards Gracie, who sat in the same room, 
 but out of hearing. " Can 3 r ou look at the 
 guiding spirit of it and repeat that question ?" 
 
 They were sojourning at a watering-place dur- 
 ing the holiday season ; but Mr. Sheldon was so 
 much interested in the result of his experiment 
 that he willingly made arrangements to bring 
 the family to town for a week, and the 1st of 
 August found them temporarily at home. The 
 morning and afternoon of that day passed with- 
 out any sign from the Baby ; but this was to be 
 expected, as Mrs. Sheldon was reminded when 
 she began to show indications of uneasiness. 
 And in the evening, sure enough, there came a 
 
172 GRACIE S GODSON 
 
 ring at the street door, and a letter was pres- 
 ently brought in by a domestic, with this re- 
 quest : 
 
 " The messenger asks you to let him stay in 
 the hall, sir, till you finish reading it." 
 
 Mrs. Sheldon was for having him introduced 
 and her daughter sent for at once, but Mr. Shel- 
 don checked her, saying that the boy's suggest- 
 ion was a sensible one, and had best be adhered 
 to. He opened the missive, and read aloud, as 
 follows : 
 
 "The Enterprise Bank-note Co., 
 New York, August 1, 1890. 
 " Mr. George Sheldon : 
 
 "Dear Sir, — M}^ youngest employe, Eobin 
 Grace, has requested me to send you an exact 
 and unprejudiced statement as to his character 
 for honesty and uprightness. It is with unusual 
 satisfaction that I accede to his wish. 
 
 " He entered our establishment eight months 
 ago in the humblest capacity, application having 
 been made on his behalf by a society whose rec- 
 ommendation was sufficient to insure his admis- 
 sion. I was informed that he sought employment 
 here, knowing that our subordinate attaches are 
 necessarily subject to the strictest surveillance, 
 on account of the responsible nature of the busi- 
 ness, and desiring especially to make for himself 
 
GKACIE S GODSON 173 
 
 a record under the most rigorous conditions that 
 could be imposed. 
 
 " I have never been made acquainted with his 
 purpose, but it gives me pleasure to certify that 
 throughout his term of service his conduct has 
 been above reproach. I should be glad to speak 
 of the intelligence he has shown in the discharge 
 of his duties, and the general propriety of his 
 demeanor, but he begs me to confine my testi- 
 mony to the single question of his integrity, and 
 in that particular his reputation is unblemished. 
 
 " If it is your intention to withdraw him from 
 our office, he will carry with him the regard and 
 the best wishes of his employers. If your ar- 
 rangements permit him to remain, I can promise 
 him the promotion of which he has proved him- 
 self worthy. 
 
 " I am, sir, yours very truly, 
 
 "C. C. Alexander." 
 
 It was a charm to see the light in Mrs. Shel- 
 don's eyes as she listened to these words of warm 
 approval. Her heart was filled with the content 
 of a good woman who rejoices at the fulfilment 
 of her generous hope for a fellow-being's rescue 
 from degradation. She rose hastily, and left the 
 drawing-room by a side door, saying, " I will send 
 Gracie to brinir him to us." 
 
174 gkacie's godson 
 
 A minute later the little girl's feet -were heard 
 tripping through the hall. " Somebody for me ?" 
 she asked. " Come this way, please." 
 
 She entered from the obscuritj^ followed by a 
 fine-looking lad of thirteen, neatly dressed in a 
 dark blue knickerbocker suit, whose countenance 
 shone with eager expectation. Mr. Sheldon would 
 not have known him. Even his wife, who had 
 hastened back to witness the reception, was un- 
 prepared for so thorough a change. There were 
 the same striking features, and the clear, delicate 
 complexion, but the uncouth wildness was gone, 
 and the ungoverned restlessness had given place 
 to a quiet and respectful bearing. He was the 
 picture of a little gentleman as he stood in the 
 doorway awaiting recognition. 
 
 "Why, it's my Eobin!" cried Gracie, spring- 
 ing towards him with delight. " I always told 
 you he was a nice boy. What do you think now, 
 mamma 2" 
 
 He had no reason to complain of his greeting, 
 and a few minutes after the first salutation 
 he was sitting at his ease and chatting as free- 
 ly as Grade's impetuous interruptions would 
 allow. 
 
 " How handsome you have grown !" she sud- 
 denly exclaimed. " Are you not glad ?" 
 
 " I'm glad if you are satisfied with me," he 
 
£§?'■', ,- ■ . ix 
 
GKACIE S GODSON 175 
 
 answered, very much flushed. Possibly he was 
 not yet completely reconciled to the refine- 
 ment and attractiveness of his personal ap- 
 pearance. 
 
 " I see your employer gives you 3-our full 
 name," Mrs. Sheldon remarked. "Have you 
 found your parents ?" 
 
 " JNo, ma'am," said the boy, turning still red- 
 der. "I thought — you know your little girl 
 called me by one name — the only one anybody 
 ever gave me in a friendly way — and of course 
 I kept that. But I had to have another when I 
 — when I — you know what I mean, sir — and I 
 thought perhaps you wouldn't mind if I owed 
 her the second one, too. But I can change it if 
 you don't like." 
 
 "I see," responded Mr. Sheldon; "Eobin 
 Grace; very neat and very well thought of. 
 Gracie, this young man is your godson ; do 
 you know that ? He is doubly your godson, for 
 you have had the naming of him twice over." 
 
 Gracie did not understand at first, but when 
 it was explained to her she vowed that nothing 
 could be more to her fane} 7 ". 
 
 " Did you really, Robin, name yourself after 
 me ? How good that is ! I didn't know you 
 could do such a thing." 
 
 " I hadn't any that really belonged to me— not 
 
176 GRACIE S GODSON 
 
 that I ever heard of — and there's no name I — 
 not any that I think so much of. So if your 
 father and mother are willing — " 
 
 " Keep it, my boy, keep it," said Mr. Sheldon ; 
 " and I hope it will bring you good." He in- 
 tended to say more, but a curious tingling in his 
 nose, such as gentlemen of mature years do not 
 like to have come upon them unawares, prevent- 
 ed him from continuing. Mrs. Sheldon, being a 
 woman, did not care so much about preserving 
 an undisturbed composure, and could let her 
 voice quaver without feeling humiliated. So she 
 kept up the conversation until her husband had 
 taken care of the cold in his head of which he 
 suddenly became aware. 
 
 " Well, Robin," he said at length, " we have a 
 great many matters to settle in course of time, 
 but the most important question is, who is to 
 take care of you ? Shall it be Mrs. Sheldon, or 
 I, or Gracie? Gracie has the first right, I ad- 
 mit; but perhaps she isn't quite equal to it just 
 at present." 
 
 " Oh, sir," replied the lad, overflowing with 
 happiness, " I think I sha'n't have much diffi- 
 culty in taking care of myself in one way, but if 
 anybody is to take care of me in the other way 
 — the way you mean — the best way — I hope it 
 may be your little daughter. She did something 
 
GRACIE S GODSON 177 
 
 for me a year ago that nobody else could have 
 done. I didn't see how it was then, but I know 
 better now ; and I guess there's no other person 
 that can look after me so well for a good many 
 years to come." 
 
 "Robin, Robin, what funny things you say!" 
 cried Gracie, to whose bright young mind these 
 graver thoughts were not attuned. 
 
 " Oh yes," he persisted ; " I sha'n't willingly 
 have anybody but you for a guardian ; but in 
 case it gets too much for you sometimes, per- 
 haps your father and mother will help you a 
 little." 
 
 " There's not much fear of that, my lad. Un- 
 less I am more mistaken than I ever was in my 
 life, the day is not likely to come when you will 
 turn to either of us in vain, or when we shall be 
 made to feel that we have misplaced our interest 
 and confidence in Grade's godson." 
 
 12 
 
NATTY BARTON'S MAGIC 
 
 In the very front row of seats in Fenlowe Hall 
 sat Natty Barton, eagerly waiting for the won- 
 ders to begin. He thought he had never before 
 been so happy. Fenlowe was a small country 
 town, and, so far as he could recollect, this was 
 the first real magician that had ever come there. 
 It was the first public entertainment of any sort 
 that he had attended, although he was fully 
 twelve years old. He was too poor to have 
 money for such pleasant purposes. But by a 
 happy chance, quite as marvellous, Natty be- 
 lieved, as anything he was about to witness, he 
 had been standing in front of the exhibition 
 building that afternoon just when the conjurer 
 needed help in arranging his materials on the 
 stage. Natty was called in from the street, and, 
 being found quick and willing, was rewarded 
 with a ticket for the evening's performance. He 
 
r'o 
 
 NATTY BARTON S MAGIC 179 
 
 had no difficulty in getting permission to be pres- 
 ent, and now, dressed for the occasion in his best 
 clothes, he awaited tile wizard's appearance in a 
 glow of delightful expectation. 
 
 Presently the wonder-worker walked upon the 
 platform, leading a little girl about ten years of 
 age, who, Natty said to himself, was the prettiest 
 child he had ever beheld. The audience seemed 
 to be of the same opinion, and the loud applause 
 was evidently intended more as a greeting to her 
 than to her companion. But the conjurer had 
 no reason to be dissatisfied with his reception as 
 soon as he began to unfold the mysteries in store. 
 To the populace of Fenlowe his exploits were 
 bewildering. Natty was lost in amazement. Up 
 to that point of his life he had thought his eyes 
 could be trusted, but now they were capable of 
 nothing but playing him tricks. Such funny 
 tricks, too, that his face ached with the fits of 
 laughter into which he was thrown. When the 
 magician strolled up to old Mullins, the lessee of 
 the hall, and pulled a live rabbit out of his waist- 
 coat-pocket, the people shrieked with glee, and 
 Natty nearly fell off his seat. But the cross- 
 tempered lessee did not like it so well. He mut- 
 tered something disagreeable, whereat the magi- 
 cian instantly drew a big goose from the back of 
 his neck, saying, with a roguish smile, 
 
180 NATTY BAETON S MAGIC 
 
 "Why, sir, do you carry your family about 
 Avith you in this way ?" 
 
 Mullins looked very savage, but he was disliked 
 by the whole town, and nobody cared except his 
 son, Ned Mullins, who was sitting near Natty, and 
 who glared about him with as fierce an air as a 
 boy of fourteen could put on. The performer 
 was somewhat disturbed by the old man's resent- 
 ment. Turning towards him, he said, pleasantly : 
 
 " No offence, I hope, sir. My little girl shall 
 make it up to you when the sweetmeats are 
 passed around." 
 
 " Perhaps I'll make it up to you, my man, be- 
 fore the night is out," growled old Mullins. 
 Then the people hissed at him, and young Mul- 
 lins grew red as a lobster, and twice as ugly. 
 
 The magician soon went back to his place, and 
 announced that he was about to attempt an ex- 
 ceedingly difficult trick, in which he desired the 
 assistance of one or two young gentlemen from 
 the audience, if they would favor him by coming 
 upon the stage. Natty felt himself tingling all 
 over. He would have given worlds to go and 
 stand near that bewitching little lady, but he did 
 not dare. He was not sure that the term "young 
 gentleman" was meant for a boy like him. To 
 his astonishment, however, Ned Mullins left his 
 seat and clambered up to the platform without 
 
NATTY BARTON S MAGIC 181 
 
 the least sign of embarrassment. Natty thought 
 he was as much of a young gentleman as Ned 
 Mullins any day ; but still he did not stir, al- 
 though he half fancied that he saw a shade of 
 disappointment in the pretty girl's countenance. 
 
 " Another, please," said the magician ; and as 
 he spoke he glanced right down into Natty's 
 eyes. This was as good as a direct invitation; 
 so Natty, very much agitated, hastened to re- 
 spond. He was as red as Ned Mullins when he 
 reached the stage, but not so ugly, by many de- 
 grees. The little girl nodded to him, and that 
 made him more comfortable, for he was sure 
 she had not done anything of the kind when Ned 
 Mullins approached her. 
 
 The necromancer began his feat by handing a 
 leaden bullet to Natty, and asking him to carry 
 it down among the spectators, so that some one 
 could make a secret mark upon it with a knife. 
 Then he took a large pistol from a table, and 
 held it while Natty, under instructions, put in a 
 lot of powder, and afterwards the ball, covering 
 it all the while, so that the mark should not be 
 detected by the performer. Every one saw that 
 this was done fairly enough. 
 
 The magician next carried the pistol across to 
 where Ned Mullins stood, and gave it into his 
 hands, telling him to watch it carefully, and keep 
 
182 NATTY BARTON S MAGIC 
 
 it in a particular position. Ned said lie would 
 do so, but as soon as the conjurer turned away, 
 Natty observed that the other boy drew some- 
 thing swiftly from his pocket and passed his hand 
 over the muzzle of the weapon. "What to say or 
 do Natty did not know, and before he could col- 
 lect his thoughts the magician again came for- 
 ward, followed by the child, who carried a great 
 globe filled with goldfish. As she took her po- 
 sition in the middle of the stage, a dreadful chill 
 came over Natty. lie could not foresee what 
 was to happen, but he was suddenly stricken 
 with a fear that some calamity was at hand. 
 Without exactly understanding why he did it, 
 he ran towards the girl, exclaiming : 
 
 " Let me hold it, please. It is — it is too heavy 
 for you." 
 
 The magician was surprised. 
 
 " Thank you, my young friend," he said ; " you 
 are very polite, but it is not so heavy as it seems, 
 and Adela is used to it," 
 
 " I wish you would let me," pleaded Natty. 
 
 Once more the magician looked inquiringly at 
 him, whereupon ho lowered his voice and whis- 
 pered : 
 
 " Don't — don't use the pistol, sir ; Ned Mullins 
 did something to it." 
 
 The magician started, but quickly recovered 
 
NATTY BARTON S MAGIC 183 
 
 himself, and, addressing the audience, said : " The 
 young gentleman is more considerate than many 
 of his years would be. There ; no one need hold 
 the vase ; we will set it on the table." 
 
 Having done this, he walked across to Ned 
 Mullins and relieved him of his charge. Natty 
 was in dire apprehension until the magician re- 
 turned and said, in a murmur, as he passed, " Be 
 not alarmed, my good lad ; all is safe." 
 
 A minute after, the pistol was pointed directly 
 at the vase and fired at short range, without in- 
 juring the glass, although the fish began swim- 
 ming about in wild disorder. Natty's anxiety 
 was happily dispelled. Having read descriptions 
 of a trick similar to this one, he had been terri- 
 fied by the idea that the weapon was to be turned 
 upon the little girl. 
 
 " Now Adela will carry the globe to the gen- 
 tleman who marked the bullet," said the magi- 
 cian. " I do not wish to touch it at all." 
 
 The child obe} T ed the direction, and as she 
 moved through the throng a large goldfish was 
 seen dragging a heavy object attached by a cord 
 to its tail. This was taken out, and pronounced 
 to be the very ball on which the private mark 
 had been cut. 
 
 In the midst of the applause which followed, 
 the magician spoke thus to Natty : " Will you 
 
184 NATTY BARTON S MAGIC 
 
 come to us at the hotel to-night after the per- 
 formance ? Do, if you can." 
 
 " Oh yes," answered Natty, highly elated. " I 
 am sure mother will let me." 
 
 Turning to Ned Mullins, the magician added, 
 in a severe tone : " I do not ask you to come, and 
 you know the reason why. It would serve you 
 well if I exposed you before the people. Leave 
 the stage, and come near us no more !" 
 
 II 
 
 An hour later Natty was led by the magician, 
 whose name was Ross, into a private parlor of 
 the hotel, where he found Adela and her mother, 
 a lady about thirty years of age, whose delicate 
 appearance indicated that she was an invalid. 
 
 " My wife has been ailing for many weeks," 
 said Mr. Ross ; " but this fine country air will do 
 her great good. We shall stay here till she is 
 stronger." 
 
 " We hope to," the lady remarked. 
 
 "Mamma, we must" exclaimed Adela, "if it 
 will help you." 
 
 " We must if we can," said Mr. Ross. " Sit 
 down, Master Natty, and give me a little infor- 
 
NATTY BARTON'S MAGIC 185 
 
 mation, if you please. How many of our exhi- 
 bitions do you think your townspeople will en- 
 dure without getting tired of us ?" 
 
 " How could they ever get tired ?" cried Natty, 
 impulsively. " I could go a hundred times." 
 
 " You are very complimentary," said the con- 
 jurer ; " but if the hall can be filled seven or eight 
 times we shall be satisfied. Perhaps my wife 
 will be well enough to give some assistance tow- 
 ards the end. Then you shall have a perform- 
 ance worth seeing." 
 
 "Everything to-night was as beautiful as it 
 could be," Natty declared. 
 
 " Except the pistol trick," said Mr. Hoss, laugh- 
 ing. " That would have gone wrong but for 
 your help." 
 
 "Did I really help?" asked Natty, vastly 
 pleased. "I am so glad. I was afraid — " 
 
 " You were afraid I was going to shoot at 
 Adela. Oh no, I never do that, although there 
 would be no danger at all if nobody meddled 
 with the pistol. Many conjurers do fire at peo- 
 ple, but I dislike the practice. Do you know 
 what that mischievous fellow did ?" 
 
 " He would do anything bad," Natty replied. 
 " He is the meanest boy in town." 
 
 " Of course you understand," said Mr. Koss, 
 "as everybody does, that my wonderful exploits 
 
186 NATTY BARTON'S MAGIC 
 
 are simply ingenious deceptions. You need not 
 tell your friends, but I have a way of taking out 
 the bullet without appearing to. After I had 
 done this, the young scamp dropped a couple 
 of marbles into the pistol-barrel. It would have 
 been very awkward if you had not warned me. 
 The globe would have been broken, the fishes 
 killed, and the entertainment spoiled. Our little 
 girl might have been badly hurt by the broken 
 glass, for she usually holds the vase. So you see 
 we have good reason to thank you." 
 
 " Indeed we have," exclaimed Mrs. Ross, warm- 
 ly. " Come and give me your hand, my dear 
 boy." 
 
 " And let me have the other," said Adela, going 
 quickly to him. " Papa did not tell me this be- 
 fore." 
 
 Natty had never felt prouder or more con- 
 tented. He tried to say something in acknowl- 
 edgment of these kind speeches and actions, but 
 before he could think of the proper words a loud 
 knock was heard, and Mr. Ross left the group to 
 open the door. 
 
 " Ah, the lessee," he said. "Come in, sir." 
 
 " JSTot I," answered Mullins, roughly. " My 
 business is short. You thought it mighty smart 
 to make me ridiculous and get me hissed a while 
 ago. I know a trick as good as any of yours, my 
 
NATTY BAETON S MAGIC 187 
 
 fine fellow. You can't have my ball after this 
 week." 
 
 " Mr. Mullins," said Eoss, " I had no intention 
 of hurting your feelings. Xobody takes offence 
 at my harmless jests." 
 
 "Then I'm nobody," retorted Mullins, "for / 
 take offence. You have the hall for two more 
 shows — one evening and one afternoon. I have 
 signed to that, but nothing beyond. Take your 
 rubbish out before Saturday night. That's all I 
 have to say." 
 
 " Let me tell you," said Eoss, mildly, " why I 
 wish to remain a few weeks. My wife has had 
 a long fit of sickness, and she needs rest and 
 pure air. Her illness has prevented many of our 
 performances this season, and we have made very 
 little money. "We cannot afford to stay here 
 unless I gi\e a series of entertainments. That is 
 the absolute truth. Yours is the only hall in the 
 place, and if you close it against us, we must go 
 away. I trust you will consider the position I 
 am in, and accept my apology if I annoyed you." 
 
 " I'm thinking of the position / was in when 
 you made a fool of me before the crowd," snarled 
 Mullins. " Out you go at the end of the week, 
 and the town will be well rid of you." 
 
 The angry old man stalked away, and the con- 
 jurer rejoined his family with a downcast face. 
 
188 NATTY BAKTON S MAGIC 
 
 Tears were in little Adela's eyes, and Natty him- 
 self was ready to cry. He felt that he ought to 
 leave, but could not go without expressing his 
 indignation, and trying to assure his new friends 
 that they had his sympathy in their unexpected 
 trouble. 
 
 " Old Mullins is worse than his boy Ned," he 
 cried. "Everybody hates and despises him. I 
 wish I dared to tell Mr. Huntington about this." 
 
 " Who is Mr. Huntington ?" asked Mrs. Ross, 
 smiling at the lad's vehemence. 
 
 " He lives in the big house opposite the old 
 church," Natty replied. " I guess he is the rich- 
 est man in the town. He is a lawyer, but he 
 doesn't do any law work now. Most persons 
 are afraid of him, just as I am. I don't know 
 why ; he isn't cross a bit. My mother is his 
 house-keeper, and I live there too with her ; but 
 he never talks much to me. Indeed, he never 
 talks much to anybody. They say he can do what- 
 ever he pleases in Fenlowe, and I don't believe he 
 would let old Mullins behave so if he knew." 
 
 " Never mind, my lad," said Mr. Ross. " Who 
 can tell what will happen? We have still two 
 performances to give, and they may be more 
 profitable than we expect. Take these tickets; 
 we shall look for you Wednesday night and Sat- 
 urday afternoon." 
 
NATTY BARTON S MAGIC 189 
 
 "Yes, do come," cried Adela. "I want you 
 ever so much. Come up and help us again if 
 papa calls for an}' body." 
 
 " I'd do anything to help you," vowed Natty 
 — " anything in the world if I only knew how." 
 
 " You are a good boy," chirped Adela, " so I 
 shall kiss you for good-night." 
 
 Natty went home in a very unsettled state of 
 mind. He wished something would happen by 
 which he could prove in a manly, grown-up way 
 how much he liked the whole Boss family, and 
 how determined he was to stand by them. A 
 beginning might be made, he thought, by pick- 
 ing a healthy quarrel with Ned Mullins ; but 
 there were reasons why he could not immediate- 
 ly carry out that plan. Ned Mullins was incon- 
 veniently handy with his lists, and capable of 
 playing such tricks of legerdemain with Natty's 
 features as would make it disagreeable for their 
 owner to occupy a front seat in Fenlowe Hall, 
 and would prevent him from offering his humble 
 service in any part of the expected performances. 
 He concluded that he must trust to luck for the 
 desired opportunity, and postpone the affair with 
 young Mullins until after the retirement of the 
 conjuring party from Fenlowe, when a black eye 
 more or less would be of trifling consequence. 
 
190 NATTY BARTON S MAGIC 
 
 III 
 
 Two evenings later, as Natty was crossing the 
 hall of the large house in which he lived, just be- 
 fore starting for the exhibition, he saw Mr. Hunt- 
 ington standing near the front door, examining 
 the pockets of his coat, which hung on a rack. 
 
 " Will you do me a favor, Natty ?" said the 
 lawyer. " I have left a paper which I need on 
 my office table. Please run across the street 
 and get it. Take a lantern with you. The doc- 
 ument is tied with blue tape and has a number 
 on it — 111. You can't forget that — one, one, 
 one. Give it to your mother, and tell her to 
 bring it to me. Here is my key." 
 
 Natty hurried over to the little office, and had 
 no difficulty in finding what he had been sent 
 for. The number was plain enough — " 111 " — 
 and he noticed the word " lease " on the back, 
 and the names of Huntington and Mullins. He 
 delivered the paper to his mother, according to 
 instructions. 
 
 "Yes, I suppose this is what Mr. Mullins is 
 waiting for," she said. "He is in the library 
 now." 
 
NATTY BARTON S MAGIC 191 
 
 " Dear me !" exclaimed Natty, " I wish Mr. 
 Huntington had nothing to do with that old 
 sinner." 
 
 He made his way quickly to Fenlowe Hall, 
 and entered just as the performance began. 
 Aclela recognized him as he went to his seat, and 
 during the evening he had the unspeakable de- 
 light of being summoned once or twice to the 
 platform to take part in some complicated piece 
 of necromancy. The entertainment was cord- 
 ially applauded throughout, and towards the end 
 a great impression was produced by an exhibi- 
 tion of what was called " second-sight," in which 
 Adela, standing blindfold on the stage, accurately 
 described various objects which her father bor- 
 rowed from strangers in the audience. He would 
 take a watch, or a ring, or any article that was 
 offered him, ask the girl questions about it, and 
 she would invariably answer with as much exact- 
 ness as if her eyes were uncovered and she held 
 it in her own hand. 
 
 When this was concluded, Adela was sent 
 forward to distribute the contents of a basket of 
 candies, while the magician made a little speech. 
 He told the people that he had hoped to offer 
 them an extended series of entertainments, but 
 could now have the pleasure of meeting them 
 only once more, on Saturday afternoon, permis- 
 
192 NATTY BARTON S MAGIC 
 
 sion to occupy the hall after that date having 
 been positively denied him. He added that 
 those who had been present on Monday evening 
 would need no explanation of Mr. Mullins's hos- 
 tility. He (Mr. Ross) had frankly expressed his 
 regret at having wounded the lessee's delicacy, 
 but that sensitive gentleman had declined to be 
 pacified. 
 
 Mullins was standing, as usual, at the back of 
 the hall. He now marched down the aisle, and 
 when he had reached the centre, said, with a ma- 
 licious grin : " You are not wanted in this place 
 because I believe you are a humbug and a fraud. 
 But I w T on't be too hard on you or anybody. 
 You shall have a chance." He threw open his 
 overcoat, and after fumbling a few seconds, drew 
 a folded paper from the inside pocket. " Look 
 here, Mr. Juggler," he continued, " if you or your 
 girl can tell the indorsement on this sheet, or 
 give the number and the names, I'll make it easy 
 for you. No, you sha'n't come near me, either 
 of you. The paper goes straight into my pocket 
 again. If you can do what I propose without 
 looking at it, you may have the hall as often as 
 you like. If not, that's the end of it." 
 
 Chuckling at the idea of inflicting annoyance 
 and mortification, he thrust the document back 
 into his coat, which he buttoned tight. Many 
 
NATTY BAKTON S MAGIC 193 
 
 persons, clearly perceiving how absurd and un- 
 reasonable his demand was, looked angrily at 
 him, but Natty Barton was trembling with ex- 
 citement. He had recognized the paper by the 
 blue tape with which it was bound. It was the 
 same lease which he had held in his hands two 
 hours before. He beckoned to Adela, who stood 
 quite near him, and pretended to pick some can- 
 dies from her basket. Everybody was giving at- 
 tention to Mr. Ross, and Natty could speak soft- 
 ly without fear of being overheard. 
 
 " I know all about that paper," he whispered ; 
 " I know everything that is on the outside. Go 
 tell your father — quick, quick ! Let him blind- 
 fold me, and I will settle old Mullins." 
 
 Adela stared at him in amazement. "Are you 
 sure ?" she asked. " It seems so strange !" 
 
 " Of course I am sure. Do you think I would 
 make a mistake about a thing like this? Don't 
 lose a minute. Go tell your father." 
 
 Adela mounted hastily to the platform, from 
 which Mr. Ross was again addressing the spec- 
 tators. 
 
 " The worthy lessee," he remarked, " is pleased 
 to call me a humbug. The word is not politely 
 chosen, but I shall not find fault with it. In a 
 certain way it is my business to be a humbug, at 
 your service, ladies and gentlemen. But he says 
 
 13 
 
194 NATTY BARTON S MAGIC 
 
 also that I am a fraud. I protest against the un- 
 truthfulness of that epithet. I do not deceive 
 you by pretending to possess supernatural power. 
 I endeavor to amuse you by seeming to accom- 
 plish impossible things. As for Mr. Mullins's 
 proposal, he is well aware that I undertake no 
 miracles." 
 
 "That's your affair," retorted Mullins. "I 
 give you a chauce ; you can take it or not, as 
 you like." 
 
 The conjurer was about to respond, when his 
 daughter approached him and hastily repeated 
 what Natty had told her. Mr. Ross paused and 
 gazed searchingly at the boy, who sat immedi- 
 ately below, and whose eager and determined ex- 
 pression of face was abundantly calculated to in- 
 spire confidence. After an instant's hesitation, 
 the magician turned once more to the audience, 
 most of whom were deeply indignant at Mullins's 
 behavior. 
 
 " I do not think it is true," he said, " that the 
 lessee has any intention of giving me a chance, 
 as he asserts. But we will see what can be done. 
 This is a most unusual thing to attempt, and if 
 I fail, I shall throw myself on your forbearance. 
 I am sure you will not think any the worse of 
 me." 
 
 Loud applause followed this modest avowal, 
 

 "PRETENDED TO PICK SOME CANDLES FROM HER BASKET' 
 
NATTY BARTON S MAGIC 195 
 
 at the end of which Mr. Eoss bowed, and pro- 
 ceeded with his speech. 
 
 "If I succeed at all, I mean to succeed in a 
 way that will be more surprising than anything 
 I have yet done. In this matter I will not rely 
 upon my little daughter for aid. I will request 
 some young gentleman who is known to you all 
 to take her place." 
 
 The general feeling was warmly in Mr. Ross's 
 favor, and nearly a score of lads of various ages 
 started towards the platform, Xatty among them. 
 It surprised him that he was not particularly 
 called upon. He was not familiar with the cun- 
 ning practices by which conjurers are accustomed 
 to magnify the importance of their exploits. 
 
 " Thanks to you all," said the magician, " but 
 I need only one. I think," he added, with an 
 air of doubt, as if his mind were not already 
 made up — " I think — yes, I will choose the young- 
 est among you. That will be best. How old are 
 you, my young friend V he inquired, turning to a 
 lad who was evidently Natty 's senior. 
 
 " Fourteen, sir," was the answer. 
 
 " Fourteen. And you ?" demanded Mr. Ross, 
 looking at Natty. 
 
 "A little over twelve," said Natty, much re- 
 lieved. He was beginning to comprehend Mr. 
 Ross's methods. 
 
196 NATTY BAKTON S MAGIC 
 
 "Very good," said the conjurer ; " come hither, 
 if you please." 
 
 Natty ascended, and was seated in a chair, with 
 his back to the spectators. Adela bound his eyes 
 with a handkerchief, and he was left alone. In 
 the body of the hall everybody was keenly in- 
 terested, and some showed not a little anxiety as 
 Eoss stepped into the aisle and slowly advanced 
 to the spot where old Mullins had planted him- 
 self. 
 
 " Keep back !" cried the ugly-tempered lessee. 
 " I won't let you see the paper." 
 
 " I have no wish to see it," said the conjurer, 
 coolly, " and it gives me no especial pleasure to 
 be near you. But if I perform this feat at all, I 
 must do it according to my own plan." 
 
 "All right," growled Mullins ; " but you dont 
 play any more low games on me." 
 
 There was a murmur of irritation at this, and 
 several persons cried " Shame !" but the object of 
 their reproach laughed coarsely, and told the 
 magician to make haste and get through with his 
 mummery. 
 
 Eoss moved on until he stood within five or 
 six feet of his opponent. Then, looking him full 
 in the face, he called out to Natty, 
 
 " Are you ready, my boy 2" 
 
 " Quite ready, sir." 
 
NATTY BARTON S MAGIC 197 
 
 " Look into 3 r our mind. Can you recognize 
 the paper which, this individual has in his coat- 
 pocket ?" 
 
 " I can, sir ; it is tied with a blue string." 
 
 "Anybody could see that," said Mullins, scorn- 
 fully, " when I held it up." 
 
 " Are there," continued Ross, without heeding 
 the interruption, " any names on the back of the 
 paper ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir ; there are two." 
 
 "Can you read them?" 
 
 " 1 can, sir ; the first is Huntington." 
 
 Mullins gave a start of astonishment. He 
 could hardly believe his ears. 
 
 " And the other ?" pursued the wizard. 
 
 " The other is Mul-lins," replied ISTatty, pro- 
 nouncing it in such a prolonged and comical 
 tone of contempt that a burst of laughter echoed 
 through the hall. 
 
 Mullins's countenance was a sight to behold. 
 He was an ignorant man, and the unexpected 
 result of the experiment gave him a very queer 
 feeling. But he pulled himself together, and 
 muttered, " There's the number yet to be told." 
 
 " True," said Ross ; " the number." 
 
 Then ISTatty thought he would do something 
 on his own account, to make the trick more 
 effective. He raised his right hand in the air, 
 
198 NATTY BARTON S MAGIC 
 
 and moved the forefinger up and down three 
 times. 
 
 " The number? 1 ' he repeated. "Wait one mo- 
 ment, please. I see three lines. It might be — 
 I don't say it is, yet — but it might be three." 
 
 " It isn't three," shouted Mullins. " Nothing 
 of the sort. You have failed. I knew you 
 ■would." 
 
 " I don't say it is three," Natty ran on, hastily. 
 " Just wait a bit." Again he moved his finger 
 up and down as before. " No, it is not three, 
 yet there are three lines. I see — I have it now ; 
 it is one hundred and eleven." 
 
 No confirmation in words was needed from 
 Mullins. His face was black with rage as he 
 swung himself about fiercely and left the hall. 
 The gentlemen in the audience cheered till the 
 windows rattled, and the ladies shook their hand- 
 kerchiefs so that the lights flickered. Mr. Ross 
 thanked them heartily, and led Natty forward 
 to receive his share of the demonstration. Adela 
 was enthusiastic in her gratitude. 
 
 " You dear boy," she said, after the people had 
 dispersed ; " how beautifully you managed it ! 
 Didn't he, papa? It was just as if he had been 
 on the stage all his life. You puzzled me, sir, 
 with your 'three lines.' I did not know what 
 was coming. How delighted mamma will be !" 
 
" UK MOVED niS FIXGEIi UP AND DOWN THREE TIMES ' 
 
NATTY BARTON'S MAGIC 199 
 
 "It was a capital performance," Mr. Eoss as- 
 sented. " You have helped me immensely, Mas- 
 ter Natty. "Will you go with us to the hotel ? 
 iSot to-night \ Then come to-morrow. My wife 
 will be glad to add her thanks to ours. This is 
 the second good turn you have done us, and I'm 
 sure I don't know how to repay you." 
 
 IV 
 
 When Natty went to make his call on the fol- 
 lowing day he found bad news awaiting him. 
 Mullins had broken his pledge. He had just 
 notified Mr. Ross that in consequence of informa- 
 tion privately received, he had concluded that 
 the exhibitions were dangerous, and that he was 
 bound in duty to suppress them. The astonished 
 conjurer demanded an explanation, and was told 
 that Mullins's son had discovered the secret of 
 the pistol trick, which was of a nature to imperil 
 human life. Such risks, he declared, should not 
 be permitted in Fenlowe Hall. Eoss retorted that 
 there never had been anything wrong with the pis- 
 tol until that mischievous boy had meddled with 
 it, and that if any mishap had ensued, it would 
 have been due solely to the malicious prank of 
 
200 NATTY BARTON S MAGIC 
 
 Mullins junior. But the old man continued to 
 rail, and held to his resolution to drive the un- 
 fortunate family out of town. 
 
 This was too much for Natty, who straightway 
 announced his intention to acquaint Mr. Hunt- 
 ington with the facts, and seek his intercession. 
 He did not precisely know what that gentleman 
 would be able to do, but had a vague conviction 
 that nobody could stand against so much dig- 
 nity, importance, and wealth as were united in 
 his mother's patron. He trotted home, and sum- 
 moning all his courage, presented himself, not 
 without anxious misgivings, at the door of the 
 library, in which the lawyer passed most of his 
 afternoons. 
 
 " Come in," said Mr. Huntington, in response 
 to Natty 's timid knock. He was not a very old 
 man, and there was never any harshness in his 
 manner, but his unchanging gravity and stateli- 
 ness of demeanor always impressed Natty with a 
 sense of awe. The lad did not believe that any 
 person alive had seen Mr. Huntington smile. 
 His face was careworn, and he seemed to take 
 no satisfaction in anything — at least, not in any- 
 thing that boys could understand. Yet his speech 
 was not severe, and his actions were often kind. 
 Only last Independence Day he had enriched Nat- 
 ty with a prodigious box of fireworks, the posses- 
 
NATTY BARTON S MAGIC 201 
 
 sion of which would have filled the youngster's 
 heart with perfect rapture if he had not been 
 compelled to promise that none of the crackers 
 or bombs should be exploded near the house. 
 This spoiled a great part of Natty's enjoyment, 
 whose filial wish had been to enliven his affec- 
 tionate mother's nerves with a series of first-class 
 Fourth of July sensations. 
 
 After much hesitation and a great deal of 
 stammering, he succeeded in telling his story. 
 Mr. Huntington listened silently, and when the 
 recital was ended, began to ask questions. 
 
 " You say that Mr. Mullins first refused be- 
 cause he was angry with the conjurer, and after- 
 wards on the ground of danger to the public ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " But there was no danger apart from that 
 which young Mullins might have caused ?" 
 
 " No, sir ; none." 
 
 " Your idea about the lease was timely and in- 
 genious ; but did it not occur to you that as you 
 had seen the names and the number while you 
 were on an errand for me, it might be improper 
 to disclose them ?" 
 
 "I did think of that, sir ; but I said to myself, 
 if old Mullins — Mr. Mullins, I mean — was willing 
 to talk about them, it wouldn't be wrong for me 
 to do so too." 
 
202 NATTY BARTON'S MAGIC 
 
 " Yery well ; I do not blame you. Your mo- 
 tive was a good one. But by-and-by, perhaps 
 after this Mr. Ross has gone awa}% I advise you 
 to explain to your friends how the trick was per- 
 formed, and why. You should not give any one 
 the chance to say that you had deceived people, 
 or even misled them, without a worthy purpose." 
 
 "I understand that, sir ; and I told mother last 
 night how it happened." 
 
 " That is right. And as to the hall, I will in- 
 quire into that matter. If you have made no 
 mistake, and Mr. Mullins has no other reason for 
 excluding Mr. Ross, I think we will set aside his 
 objections." 
 
 " Oh, can you, sir ?" cried Natty, overjoyed at 
 the success of his pleading. 
 
 " Why, I suppose so. You know that Fenlowe 
 Hall belongs to me." 
 
 " No, sir, I did not know it ; but I am so glad. 
 May I tell Adela— and her father ?" 
 
 " Not yet. Let me see Mullins first. Why do 
 you wish to tell them ?" 
 
 "It will please them so much, sir. Mrs. Ross 
 is sick, and they want to stay here till she gets 
 well. They thought they would be driven away 
 by old Mullins— by Mr. Mullins— but if they 
 could know at once — " 
 
 " I see. Well, you may say that if Mr. Ross 
 
NATTY BARTON S MAGIC 203 
 
 can satisfy the owner of the hall, he may con- 
 tinue to occupy it. But you will not mention 
 my name, and he must not speak to the lessee 
 upon the subject. If these conditions are not 
 observed, I shall not interfere. Is that all, 
 Natty?" 
 
 "Thank you; yes, sir. But — Yes, sir; that 
 is all." 
 
 "You speak as if there was something more. 
 What is it ?" 
 
 Natty looked down at the floor, then up at the 
 ceiling, and then out of the window, greatly em- 
 barrassed. 
 
 " Go on, my boy. Have you any reason to be 
 afraid of me ?" 
 
 "No, sir; oh no! Perhaps — perhaps I am 
 afraid without any reason. Good-afternoon, sir." 
 And Natty started to run away. 
 
 ""Wait," said Mr. Huntington. "I am very 
 sorry you are afraid of me. I don't think there 
 is any need. Oblige me by saying what was on 
 your mind." 
 
 " It was nothing," Natty persisted. 
 
 "Exactly; then it is all the easier to tell. Out 
 with it." 
 
 "Well, sir; only this: The little girl does not 
 look very well, either, and I thought — if I might 
 ■ — just for a few minutes — the river garden is so 
 
204 NATTY BARTON'S MAGIC 
 
 beautiful now — and the weather is not too cold 
 — but no matter ; good-afternoon, sir." 
 
 "You need not go yet," said Mr. Hunting- 
 ton ; and he looked at Natty so curiously and 
 so long that the lad began to be afraid he had 
 been guilty of some frightful act of presumption. 
 "You know," proceeded the lawyer, "that vis- 
 itors rarely come here. I am not in the best of 
 health myself, and I prefer to be alone. But I 
 think } T ou will not disturb me. Yes, you may 
 bring your young friend to-morrow. Let her 
 come about noon, and tell your mother that I 
 shall be pleased if she will prepare some luncheon 
 for you both. That is all now, I presume." 
 
 " Yes, indeed, sir," Natty replied, quite unable 
 to express his delight in formal words. " I hope 
 you will excuse me for being afraid. I wish I 
 wasn't. Sometimes I can't help it. I will try — 
 but I don't know." 
 
 " Do so," said Mr. Huntington, gently enough, 
 but still without a smile. " Good-day." 
 
 Natty flew to his mother, and delivered his 
 news so breathlessly and in such broken and dis- 
 connected sentences that the excellent house- 
 keeper was in great concern lest her child had 
 strayed out of his senses. 
 
 " It can't be !" she exclaimed, after he had 
 contrived to unburden himself. " A strange girl 
 
NATTY BAKT0N S MAGIC 205 
 
 to come here ! How did you dare to pro- 
 pose it?" 
 
 " Is it wrong, mother ?" 
 
 ""Wrong? No, not wrong; but I should not 
 have dreamt of such a thing. There has not 
 been a child in the house except you for years 
 and years. I thought there never would be. It 
 is a great event, Natty, though you cannot under- 
 stand my reason for saying so." 
 
 "Why is it that nobody comes here, mother, 
 and that Mr. Huntington seems to have no 
 friends ? Did he never like to know people ?" 
 
 " Ah, Natty, I cannot tell you the whole now. 
 Mr. Huntington had a heavy grief a long time 
 ago. It was soon after you were born. He had 
 an only sister whom he loved devotedly ; but she 
 married against his wish, and they parted in an- 
 ger. He never saw her again." 
 
 " Where is she ?" asked Natty, much impressed 
 by his mother's gravity. 
 
 " She died soon after. It was a great blow to 
 her brother, though he was right about the mar- 
 riage. Helen's husband was not a fit man for 
 her to wed. But Mr. Huntington could not for- 
 give himself for his severity to her, and he has 
 suffered ever since. He tried to do something 
 to repair a part of his fault, but failed ; and that 
 made him more gloomy than he otherwise would 
 
206 NATTY BARTON S MAGIC 
 
 have been. You shall hear it all some time, 
 Natty, and then, young as you are, you will be 
 sorry for him. I am glad he has broken the 
 habit of closing the house to everybody. Per- 
 haps brighter days will follow." 
 
 Me. Boss's first two performances had been 
 given on Monday and Wednesday evenings. 
 The third was to take place Saturday afternoon. 
 It was on Friday, a little before one o'clock, that 
 Adela sat beside Natty at Mrs. Barton's table, 
 enjoving the appetizing luncheon which the 
 house -keeper had provided for the occasion. 
 Adela had been almost speechlessly happy while 
 roaming through the fine grounds under Natty's 
 guidance. She had lived mostly in cities, and 
 had never before been brought into such delight- 
 ful contact with trees and flowers. Her zealous 
 escort had taken her out, on the river in a big 
 boat, and had shown her the barn, the orchard, 
 the duck-pond, the hen-house, the pigsty, and all 
 the glories of the place. She looked a little tired, 
 but very beaming and contented, as she chatted 
 confidentially about the unfamiliar charms of 
 
NATTY BARTON S MAGIC 207 
 
 the country. Once in a while, however, a shade 
 passed over her countenance, and she seemed ill 
 at ease. 
 
 Mrs. Barton did not fail to observe these signs 
 of discomposure, but she made no remark or in- 
 quiry. Suddenly, however, she left the dining- 
 room and went to the library, where her employ- 
 er was seated, as usual. 
 
 " I beg pardon for disturbing you, sir," she 
 began, "but I feel that you ought to know some- 
 thing this little girl has said. She told Natty 
 she didn't think it would be right to go away 
 without thanking you for letting her come here. 
 She is a very intelligent child. Are you willing 
 to see her?" 
 
 " 'No, Mrs. Barton," Mr. Huntington answered, 
 quietly. " I am glad she has had some diversion, 
 but her thanks are due to you and Natty." 
 
 " She does not think so, sir ; and I believe it 
 will trouble her very much if she cannot speak 
 to you. She says her mother would reprove her 
 if she neglected it. And, to tell you the truth, 
 she is a little beauty. I do want to bring her to 
 you, just for a moment." 
 
 " You are asking a very uncommon thing," 
 said Mr. Huntington. " If she supposes she 
 must make an acknowledgment, she can surely 
 do so through you." 
 
208 NATTY BARTON S MAGIC 
 
 "If you could see her, sir, you would not say 
 that. It is uncommon, I know, but I do not 
 often try to put you out of your way. Let it be 
 a favor to me." 
 
 " You shall have your wish, Mrs. Barton," the 
 lawyer said, slowly, and still somewhat reluc- 
 tantly. " But the child need not come here. If 
 she is at luncheon I will look in casually. That 
 will be less ceremonious and more agreeable to 
 me." 
 
 " As you please, sir ; and I am obliged to you 
 for consenting." 
 
 A few minutes later Mr. Huntington walked 
 into the dining-room, much to the surprise of 
 Natty, who knew his habits of seclusion. Adela, 
 divining who it was, laid down her knife and 
 fork and rose from her seat. Her face flushed 
 brightly as she waited for the master of the 
 house to speak, but he was silent. He glanced 
 hastily and strangely at Mrs. Barton, and then 
 fixed his gaze upon the young visitor with 
 an intentness that deepened the color in her 
 cheeks. 
 
 "What is your name, my little friend?" he 
 finally inquired, in so peculiar a tone that Natty 
 hardly recognized his voice. 
 
 " Adela Ross, sir," the child replied. 
 
 " You are the daughter of the lady and gen- 
 
NATTY BARTON S MAGIC 209 
 
 tleraan who have come to perforin at Fenlowe 
 Hall?" 
 
 " Yes, sir ; but mamma has not appeared yet. 
 She is not strong enough. Papa and I do ev- 
 erything." 
 
 The girl's lip quivered as she answered, and 
 her eyes were cast down, as if to hide a painful 
 emotion. 
 
 "Is she so ill that it grieves you to speak of 
 her?" asked Mr. Huntington. 
 
 " Oil no, sir ; I hope she is not very ill. It is 
 not that. Please excuse me." 
 
 " Sit down, my dear. What is it that disturbs 
 you ? I thought Natty was to make everything 
 pleasant during your call. Do you know what 
 the matter is, Natty ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir, I do," said the boy, stoutly, although 
 Adela looked at him with beseeching eyes. 
 
 " Oh, Natty I" she murmured, ruefully. 
 
 '* But I mustn't tell if she is not willing," the 
 boy added, promptly. 
 
 " I am sure there is nothing," said Mr. Hunt- 
 ington, "that she should be unwilling to let us 
 hear. Perhaps we can help her, Mrs. Barton 
 and I." 
 
 The house-keeper's kind heart was beating fast. 
 She had not seen her employer in so gracious a 
 mood for many a year. 
 
 14 
 
210 • NATTY BARTON S MAGIC 
 
 " I think we may be told," the lawyer contin- 
 ued ; and as Aclela made no further attempt to 
 remonstrate, Natty hastened to explain. 
 
 " She was saying, out in the river garden, that 
 she felt as if it was wicked to have such a beau- 
 tiful holiday all to herself, when her mother 
 could not enjoy it too." 
 
 " Oh, Natty !" repeated Adela, dismayed and 
 confused. 
 
 " There is no harm in that," said Mr. Hunt- 
 ington. " Do you understand what she means, 
 Natty ?" 
 
 " No, sir ; not exactly. Yes, sir ; I do — a little." 
 
 " Is your mother fond of gardens V the lawyer 
 inquired of Adela. 
 
 " I don't think she has been in many, sir — not 
 many like yours. We go about a good deal, but 
 mostly in large cities. We never were in such a 
 pretty town as this before. And, oh, the lovely 
 river, and the flowers !" 
 
 " And the pigsty," suggested Natty. 
 
 " Y — es," assented Adela, cautiously. " It is 
 all so— interesting." 
 
 " Fortunately we can do something to relieve 
 your anxiety," said Mr. Huntington. "Mrs. 
 Barton, you will oblige me by inviting this little 
 lady's mother and father to pass next Sunday 
 with you. Natty, my lad, you shall invite the 
 
NATTY BARTON S MAGIC 211 
 
 daughter. You can ramble around all day long, 
 as you like, and take tea in the arbor on the 
 river-bank if the air is mild enough. Tell your 
 parents, my child, that they must pardon me if 
 I do not join the party. I am not used to com- 
 pany, and you will amuse yourselves much bet- 
 ter without me. And look here, Natty ; before 
 your friend goes to-day, you might gather a bas- 
 ket of flowers for her to carry to Mrs. Koss." 
 
 The unlooked-for turn of events made Mrs. 
 Barton almost dizzy ; and as for Natty, his eyes 
 and mouth were widening to an alarming extent. 
 Adela had no means of knowing how contrary 
 to his ordinary conduct the lawyer's present be- 
 havior was, but she was deeply touched, and 
 leaving the table, she ran to him and grasped 
 one of his hands in both of her own. Tears 
 were upon her cheeks as she cried : 
 
 " How good you are ! Nobody else has been 
 so good. Papa and mamma are sure, though 
 Natty would not tell, that it was you who let us 
 stay and perform in Fenlowe, and when they 
 hear that they may come to the garden and en- 
 joy themselves on Sunday, I don't know what 
 they will say. I wish I could thank you prop- 
 erly, Mr. Huntington, but I can't. Papa will 
 do that, and mamma, too, for me and for them- 
 selves." 
 
212 NATTY BARTON S MAGIC 
 
 The stern lawyer lifted the child in his arms, 
 and held her close to him while he peered into 
 her large brown eyes. Then, wonder of wonders, 
 he bent his head and kissed her on the forehead, 
 after which he set her down hurriedly, and ab- 
 ruptly left the room. 
 
 "Ah, my dear," said Mrs. Barton, "it is nat- 
 ural that he should be moved. I cannot tell 
 you how much you look like some one he 
 knew and cared for very much when he was 
 younger." 
 
 " Do I, really, Mrs. Barton ?" 
 
 " Indeed you do." 
 
 Adela would have asked more, but footsteps 
 were heard, and Mr. Huntington came again be- 
 fore them. 
 
 "You take part in your father's performances," 
 he said ; " do you not, my child ?" 
 
 " Oh yes, sir ; I do a great many things." 
 
 " Tell } T our father that I shall give myself the 
 pleasure of looking in to-morrow. I wish to see 
 for myself what his exhibition is." 
 
 " He will be very glad. So will you, Mr. 
 Huntington. It will make you laugh. I think 
 it will make you laugh. It ought to. Every- 
 body laughs — except that rude Mr. Mullins." 
 
 " I may not laugh, but I don't doubt I shall be 
 pleased. And if your father desires to use me 
 
NATTY BARTON'S MAGIC 213 
 
 for the trick which disagreed with Mullins, he is 
 welcome to do so." 
 
 " Oh no, sir ; he would not think of that." 
 
 " Why not ? It will show that a sensible man 
 is not offended by it, whatever Mullins may say." 
 
 " You don't mean the rabbit, sir ?" 
 
 " If the rabbit does not object, certainly." 
 
 " And the goose ?" 
 
 " The goose, by all means." 
 
 " I will tell papa what you say," said Adela, 
 dubiously; "but I don't believe he would ever 
 do it — not to you. It wouldn't look at all natu- 
 ral," she added, with an air of grave reflection, 
 " to see a goose come out of your neck." 
 
 "Tell him, and let him do as he chooses," 
 were Mr. Huntington's last words as he again 
 left them. 
 
 " He's sorry about something," said Adela, 
 after he had gone. " He did not smile once, not 
 even when we talked about the goose. But he 
 will to-morrow afternoon. Nobody can help 
 being merr}^ when papa does his best, and he 
 will do his very test best for Mr. Huntington. 
 How happy we shall be !" 
 
 " I don't know whether I am awake or asleep !" 
 exclaimed Mrs. Barton. " When he came and told 
 us he was going to see the magic, I had to put 
 my hand over my mouth to keep from screaming 
 
214 NATTY BARTON S MAGIC 
 
 out loud. My little girl, you can't realize what 
 you have done. You will not stay in Fenlowe 
 long, and when you go I suppose we shall never 
 see you again, but I believe your coming to-day 
 has brought a blessing on this sad house, and if 
 it lasts I will be thankful to you, my dear, all the 
 days of my life." 
 
 VI 
 
 On Saturday afternoon Fenlowe Hall was 
 filled with the largest audience ever gathered 
 within its walls. The report that Mr. Hunting- 
 ton was to be present had flown about, and the 
 community were one and all on the alert to wit- 
 ness so remarkable an event as the reappearance 
 of their most distinguished townsman in a pub- 
 lic place of amusement. Many who could not 
 gain admittance to the building stood about the 
 doorway, determined to behold at least the en- 
 trance of the recluse, if, indeed, the extraordi- 
 nary rumor should be verified. On this point 
 there was still considerable doubt, and one indi- 
 vidual did not hesitate to declare his opinion 
 that the story Avas an utter fabrication, unwor- 
 thy of a moment's credence. This was Mr. Mul- 
 lins, the surly lessee, who amused himself in the 
 
NATTY BARTON S MAGIC 215 
 
 vestibule by scoffing at the credulity of the pop- 
 ulace. 
 
 " Lawyer Huntington patronize this miserable 
 show !" he cried. " Not he. Do you think that 
 after shutting himself up for ten whole years he 
 would choose an occasion like this to come out 
 of his shell ? Get along with you ! It's nothing 
 but a trick of this juggling fellow to make folks 
 curious and draw a big house.-' 
 
 The words had scarcely passed his lips when 
 the tall form of Mr. Huntington was seen mov- 
 ing slowly down the street in the direction of 
 the hall. Every tongue was hushed, and a si- 
 lence fell on the multitude, although, but for the 
 universal deference to the lawyer's feelings, and 
 the knowledge that a noisy demonstration would 
 be distasteful to him, the majority would have 
 been disposed to cheer. He gravely acknowl- 
 edged the salutations offered him from all sides, 
 and carefully made his way through the throng 
 which nearly blocked the porch. As he crossed 
 the threshold, Mr. Mullins, greatly disconcerted, 
 but preserving a good share of his natural au- 
 dacity, drew up and addressed him thus : 
 
 " Glad to see you out and among us, sir ; un- 
 common glad. But sorry you've been misled 
 into coming to this stupid exhibition. There's 
 nothing in it, I assure you, sir." 
 
216 NATTY BAETON's MAGIC 
 
 " Let me pass, if you please, Mr. Mullins," an- 
 swered Mr. Huntington. " You are obstructing 
 the passage." 
 
 Mullins stood aside, and watched the lawyer 
 with a slight sense of uneasiness as he walked 
 down the aisle and took the seat reserved for 
 him. The gruff lessee did not exactly like it, and 
 resolved to keep his eye on the unexpected visitor. 
 
 The entertainment began in due course, but it 
 was a question for a time whether the perform- 
 ances on the stage or the stately figure in the 
 centre of the audience claimed the greater de- 
 gree of attention from those present. Little 
 Adela's gentle charm soon asserted itself, how- 
 ever, and when she stepped into the body of the 
 hall, followed by her father, and tripped lightly 
 towards Mr. Huntington, the excitement rose to 
 the highest possible pitch. 
 
 " Your own request, sir," said Mr. Ross, in an 
 undertone, bending towards the lawyer ; " but I 
 will stop whenever you bid me." 
 
 " Go on," replied Mr. Huntington. " I am en- 
 tirely at your service." 
 
 Whereupon the magician passed a hand over 
 Mr. Huntington's head, and drew, or appeared 
 to draw, from his neck a basket of assorted 
 fruits, which Adela took and offered to the ladies 
 who sat near. 
 
NATTY BARTON S MAGIC 217 
 
 " Here ! here ! that won't do !" was heard in 
 rough tones from the back of the hall, while 
 Mullins's burly shape was seen pushing forward. 
 " I won't allow it. "What do you mean by play- 
 ing your impudent pranks upon Lawyer Hunt- 
 ington ?" 
 
 " Do not interfere, M ullins," ordered Mr. Hunt- 
 ington, sharply. " I am glad to testify that there 
 is nothing objectionable in this kind of amuse- 
 ment. Continue, Mr. Conjurer." 
 
 " But, sir — " urged Mullins. 
 
 " Be quiet, and make no further disturbance," 
 said Mr. Huntington, so emphatically that the 
 mischief-maker was subdued for the moment, 
 and turned, discomfited, to resume his post of 
 observation at the rear. As he did so, the con- 
 jurer caught at his coat-pocket, and extracted 
 therefrom a little live pig, kicking its legs, twist- 
 ing its corkscrew of a tail, and squealing vigor- 
 ously as it was held high in the air. The spec- 
 tators were wild with delight, while Mullins, in 
 a fury, rushed out of sight. Of all the witnesses, 
 Mr. Huntington was the only one that was not 
 convulsed with laughter. 
 
 The wizard fell to his work again, and bejmn 
 taking out flowers and toys in profusion from 
 the favored visitor's sleeves and pockets, produc- 
 ing finally a large bundle of cornucopia?, or 
 
218 NATTY BARTON S MAGIC 
 
 "horns of plenty," overflowing with candies and 
 tiny cakes. 
 
 "A fitting emblem, sir — generosity and boun- 
 ty," said Mr. Boss, proceeding to distribute the 
 confections. 
 
 Mr. Huntington beckoned to Adela, who was 
 close at hand. 
 
 " I miss something," he said, so that only she 
 could hear. " This is not what you promised me." 
 
 " Oh, sir," she answered, in the same low voice, 
 " not the goose. I couldn't let papa do that. 
 No, nor even the rabbit. But — " 
 
 She went nearer to him, and looked playfully 
 in his face. Still he did not smile, but he re- 
 turned her gaze in a manner that made those 
 who watched him wonder at its earnestness. 
 Suddenly Adela raised her hands and pulled 
 apart the upper folds of his w 7 aistcoat. 
 
 "Why, Mr. Huntington, what can this be?" 
 she exclaimed, drawing forth two white doves, 
 which, as she threw them into the air, fluttered 
 towards Mr. Ross, and presently perched upon 
 his arm. This was the first display of sleight-of- 
 hand that the child had attempted without aid, 
 and the applause was unbounded. 
 
 " Tell your father," the lawyer whispered, 
 when Adela was about returning to the stage, 
 " to show us the pistol trick." 
 
ADELA S DOVE TRICK 
 
NATTY BARTON S MAGIC 219 
 
 She obeyed, and after calling two lads to as- 
 sist him — one of whom, you may be sure, was 
 Natty — the conjurer produced his weapon and 
 the vase of goldfish. Their appearance was the 
 signal for another outburst on the part of Mullins. 
 
 " This can't go on !" roared the obstreperous 
 lessee. " I told you I wouldn't have the thing 
 repeated. Stop it !" 
 
 " Ladies and gentlemen," said Mr. Ross, ad^ 
 vancing to the edge of the platform, " } r ou have 
 heard the lessee's prohibition ; but a person of 
 higher authority in Fenlowe Hall than the les- 
 see has called for this particular performance. 
 I shall therefore not desist." 
 
 " I forbid it ! I'll prosecute you !" shouted 
 Mullins. 
 
 The necromancer cast a glance of inquiry at 
 his supporter, who nodded affirmatively. 
 
 "But it is dangerous, Mr. Huntington," pro- 
 tested Mullins, as soon as he noticed the signal. 
 " You will risk our lives if you let him keep on." 
 
 "That is sheer nonsense," said the lawyer, 
 turning upon Mullins, "although I believe the 
 same accusation has been freely made elsewhere, 
 to Mr. Ross's injury. The pistol has always 
 been a perfectly harmless toy, except once, when 
 a reckless boy tampered with it. That was a 
 piece of wilful and malicious mischief, and it 
 
220 NATTY BARTON S MAGIC 
 
 would be unlucky for the perpetrator if his mis- 
 deed were forced too strongly upon my atten- 
 tion. Finish your performance, Mr. Conjurer; 
 I think you will not be interrupted again." 
 
 It was now evident that Mr. Huntington had 
 taken the magician under his protection, and 
 though no one could guess at his motive, a pro- 
 longed clapping of hands gave assurance that 
 his intercession was warmly approved and in- 
 dorsed. Mullins fled from the room, followed 
 b}^ jeers and cries of mockery. The entertain- 
 ment proceeded agreeably ; and when, just be- 
 fore the end, the lawyer rose to his feet and 
 asked to be heard in explanation of his presence 
 on this particular afternoon, every eye was bent 
 on him, and the silence was profound as he ut- 
 tered these words : 
 
 "My friends and fellow -townsfolk, I have 
 departed from my customary course of life, and 
 come hither to-day to overrule and if possible to 
 repair an act of injustice. The gentleman to 
 whom we are indebted for our present diversion 
 came to Fenlowe with the intention of remaining 
 several weeks. He had strong reasons, with which 
 I heartily sympathize, for desiring to give in this 
 hall a series of exhibitions ; but the lessee, choos- 
 ing to be affronted at a trifling pleasantry, took 
 it upon himself to deny the stranger that privi- 
 
NATTY BARTON S MAGIC 221 
 
 lege, and to deprive you all of several excellent 
 entertainments. These facts came to my knowl- 
 edge through a youthful member of our commu- 
 nity, who could not bear to see such a wrong 
 done without striving hard to avert it. I am 
 obliged to him for reminding me of my duty in 
 this instance, and I shall take care hereafter that 
 personal spite shall not be a reason for refusing 
 the accommodations of Fenlowe Hall to any ap- 
 plicant. I have endeavored to make it apparent 
 that I approve Mr. Ross's performances, and that 
 the charge spread about to his discredit — of care- 
 lessness in using weapons — is without founda- 
 tion. Unless Mr. Mullins is prepared to give up 
 the lease of this building, he will reverse his de- 
 cision and place no obstacles in this gentleman's 
 course. I wish our visitor every success, and 
 you, ladies and gentlemen, a cordial good-after- 
 noon." 
 
 Having spoken thus, Mr. Huntington w r ent rap- 
 idly out, while the listeners unitedly signified 
 their satisfaction with his remarks, and their de- 
 termination to uphold the object of them. Mr. 
 Ross was deeply grateful, and his voice was un- 
 steady when he next attempted to use it. He 
 said, frankly, that he was not accustomed to such 
 kindness, and felt unable to express his obliga- 
 tion becomingly ; but he hoped to find some 
 
222 NATTY BARTON S MAGIC 
 
 effective means of proving before he left Fen- 
 lowe that he was not wholly unworthy of the 
 interest and good-will bestowed upon him and 
 his family. 
 
 The opportunity was nearer than he thought. 
 
 VII 
 
 " She is a dear little creature," said Mrs. Bar- 
 ton, while conversing alone with Mr. Hunting- 
 ton on the following morning. " I wish some 
 good person would adopt her and take her out 
 of those unsettled, rambling ways." 
 
 " I understand you," the lawyer replied; "but 
 I should be unequal to so hard a trial. Her face 
 would be a constant reproach to me." 
 
 " Don't say that, sir. I am sure you did ev- 
 erything that man could do to find Miss Helen 
 — Mrs. Greaves, I mean." 
 
 " When it was too late," said Mr. Huntington, 
 mournfully. " No ; the child is closely attached 
 to her parents, and they would probably refuse 
 to part with her for any consideration. They 
 could not be expected to submit to such a sacri- 
 fice. But I hope to see her many times while 
 she remains here. Make her visit as pleasant as 
 
NATTY BARTON'S MAGIC 223 
 
 you can, Mrs. Barton, so that she will wish to 
 come again." 
 
 He had quite forgotten his statement to Aclela, 
 two clays before, that he could not personally 
 receive any of the guests on Sunday ; but Mrs. 
 Barton remembered it, and drew hopeful conclu- 
 sions from his change of mind. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Ross, with Adela, were ushered 
 by Natty, about eleven o'clock, into the stately 
 Huntington mansion. Their entrance produced 
 an effect upon those of the neighbors who wit- 
 nessed it not less remarkable than that created 
 by the lawyer's appearance in Fenlowe Hall. 
 For more than ten years he had admitted no vis- 
 itors to his residence, except for necessary busi- 
 ness purposes, and nobody comprehended why 
 the first relaxation of the rule should be for the 
 benefit of an unknown family whose vocation 
 assuredly could not serve as a powerful recom- 
 mendation to favor. But Mrs. Barton was in no 
 uncertainty upon the subject. She did her best 
 to make the strangers contented and comfortable, 
 and her success was such that Mrs. Ross's usually 
 pale face glowed with animation, while every trace 
 of uneasiness vanished from her husband's feat- 
 ures. Adela, for her part, danced about and sang 
 so cheerfully as to cause all the party to forget 
 that there was such a thing; as care in the world. 
 
224 NATTY BARTON S MAGIC 
 
 Early in the afternoon, as they were sitting in 
 the arbor on the bank of the river, they saw Mr. 
 Huntington approaching through the orchard. 
 Adela ran to meet him. 
 
 " I knew you would come," she cried, taking 
 his hand to lead him to the others. " Natty was 
 afraid you could not, but I told him you were 
 too good to stay away when mamma wanted so 
 much to thank you. Mamma would have been 
 distressed if she had not seen yon." 
 
 "And you, my child?" asked Mr. Hunting- 
 ton. 
 
 " Oh, I am a little girl, and can go anywhere 
 and do anything. I should have tried to find 
 you. I hope you would not have been angry ; 
 would you?" 
 
 "No, my dear; but that is because you are 
 good, not I." 
 
 " Ah no ; I am not too little to know who is 
 good. Anybody that is kind to mamma is good, 
 and you have been the kindest of all. It made 
 me — you mustn't say anything about it, but it 
 made me cry, yesterday, when papa told her 
 what you had done to help us to stay here, and 
 get her well." 
 
 " Why, how can a person be good who makes 
 you cry ?" 
 
 "It doesn't hurt to cry like that," she ex- 
 
NATTY BARTON S MAGIC 225 
 
 plained, laughing joyously. " Now here are my 
 papa and mamma, ever so glad to see you." 
 
 In a few simple and sincere words the invalid 
 conveyed her acknowledgment of the important 
 service which the lawyer had rendered. Mr. 
 Huntington was struck by the refinement and 
 delicacy of her manner. He knew very little 
 about the class to which wizards and conjurers 
 belong, but his first thought was that if Adela's 
 destiny bound her to a career of publicity, it was 
 fortunate that she was under the guidance of so 
 well-bred a gentlewoman. 
 
 "To tell you the truth, sir," said Mr. Ross, 
 whose manner was less reserved than his wife's, 
 " we haven't been able to account for the consid- 
 eration you have shown us. It is not a common 
 experience with us, and, indeed, people in our 
 line of occupation do not look for it; but it is 
 none the less gratifying for that, you can well 
 believe." 
 
 "If you are indebted to anybody," said Mr. 
 Huntington, seating himself in the arbor, "it is 
 to Master Natty, in the first place. He told me 
 about Mullins's freak of ill-humor, and as I am 
 the owner of the hall, it seemed proper that 
 I should interfere. Yet I am not sure that I. 
 should have gone to the entertainment if I had 
 not seen your daughter while she was here as 
 
226 NATTY BARTON S MAGIC 
 
 Natty's guest. It needs a strong persuasion to 
 entice an old hermit out of his solitude, but I 
 could not resist her." 
 
 " She has been a blessing to us," exclaimed 
 Mr. Ross, " ever since we — " 
 
 " All her life," interposed Mrs. Ross, breaking 
 in upon her husband's sentence. 
 
 "I do not doubt it," said Mr. Huntington. 
 " I have known one who was not unlike her, and 
 who at her age was the joy and brightness of all 
 around her." 
 
 " I beg your pardon, sir," said Mr. Ross ; " may 
 I ask if she was your child V 
 
 " My child ? No ; it was my sister Helen." 
 
 " Helen !" exclaimed Mr. and Mrs. Ross to- 
 gether, with a look of surprise. 
 
 " That was her name," said the lawyer, quietly. 
 
 "Would you kindly tell me her full name?" 
 inquired Mr. Ross. " Believe me, I do not ask 
 in idle curiosity." 
 
 " Helen Huntington," was the reply. " Or, if 
 you mean her name after marriage, it was Hel- 
 en Greaves." 
 
 Mrs. Ross drew a quick breath, and folding 
 her arms tightly about Adela, pressed the child 
 to her breast. Mr. Ross, after a moment's pause, 
 spoke hurriedly to his Avife, with an effort at 
 composure which was far from successful. 
 
NATTY BARTON'S MAGIC 227 
 
 " Do not hold her, my love," he said ; " she 
 must leave us for a little while." Turning to 
 Adela, he added : " Go with Natty, dear ; he will 
 entertain you somewhere else. I have something 
 to tell Mr. Huntington which you need not hear 
 — not yet— not yet." 
 
 Adela's eyes grew big and round with wonder, 
 but she kissed Mrs. Ross, and obeyed in silence, 
 taking Natty 's hand, and seeming to direct rather 
 than follow him. 
 
 " It is a very serious matter," continued the 
 magician. " I have no right — and no desire — to 
 make suggestions in this place, but perhaps we 
 ought to speak with Mr. Huntington entirely 
 alone." 
 
 " Mrs. Barton has been in my family twenty 
 years," said the lawyer, greatly astonished. " I 
 can think of nothing that should be withheld 
 from her." 
 
 " Then, sir, though it is a hard thing for me 
 to say, my duty requires me to tell you that 
 Adela is not our daughter — " 
 
 " Not yours ?" exclaimed Mr. Huntington. 
 
 " And that her true name is Helen Greaves." 
 
 " Are you trifling with me ?" cried the lawyer, 
 springing to his feet. 
 
 " Heaven forbid, sir ! I would give everything 
 I own in the world to keep the secret forever, if 
 
228 NATTY BAKT0N S MAGIC 
 
 I could do so justly ; but I am bound in honor 
 to let you hear the truth. Ten years ago, when 
 we were travelling in South Carolina, we passed 
 through a small town called Greensborough. 
 We stopped at a hotel in which a Northern lady 
 had just died. We never saw her, but the land- 
 lord's wife, one of the best and tenderest of wom- 
 en, told us she had been brought there for her 
 health, and then deserted by her husband — a 
 brilliant but worthless adventurer named Greaves. 
 She left a little girl, who was then only a few 
 months old. The landlady was full of compas- 
 sion, but she was not prosperous, and after we 
 had been there some days she yielded to our pro- 
 posal that we should adopt the child. We did 
 so, and — I need not say any more, sir. You 
 can tell better than I who she realty is, but it will 
 almost break our hearts if we must lose her." 
 
 Mr. Pluntington had dropped into his seat 
 again, and he now leaned forward, resting his 
 elbows on a table, and his face fell upon his 
 hands. 
 
 " Answer me honorably," he said, in a broken 
 voice. " You don't know what this means to 
 me. Have you any papers or other articles con- 
 nected with the birth of the child?" 
 
 " Several letters, sir, a few pieces of clothing, 
 and some trinkets. We always keep them by us." 
 
NATTY BARTON'S MAGIC 229 
 
 " Why have you made no effort to discover 
 her relations ?" 
 
 " We have made all in our power, but the in- 
 dications were very imperfect. The letters were 
 dated from Washington, and were not fully 
 signed. They were evidently from the lady's 
 brother. The only name at the end was Kobert." 
 
 " It is mine ; but why did you change that of 
 the child?" 
 
 " We were led to believe it was the mother's 
 wish. She had been in terror lest her husband 
 should get possession of the infant, and use it as 
 a means — " 
 
 " I understand ; as a means of extorting 
 money." 
 
 " Precisely, sir. The landlady, who had been 
 in the poor sufferer's confidence, begged us to 
 conceal everything until we could trace the 
 child's family. So we called her Adela Boss — 
 Adela being my wife's name, also — and for a 
 long time we spared no effort to find the brother 
 who wrote the letters in our possession. Our 
 means were limited, and we failed. The search 
 was discontinued years ago. But I may say, 
 without fear of contradiction, that the little one 
 has been tenderly reared, and you can learn 
 from her own lips if she has ever been un- 
 happy." 
 
230 NATTY BAETON S MAGIC 
 
 " God bless you ! I am sure she has not. You 
 will let me examine the relics of which you 
 speak? I wish the identification to be com- 
 plete, and then — " 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Huntington," interrupted Mrs. Bar- 
 ton, " what more can you want than a single 
 look at the dear child's face ? She is your sister 
 Helen alive again." 
 
 " Indeed it seems so, Mrs. Barton ; and now I 
 have the explanation of the singular influence 
 her gentle voice and sweet smile have had upon 
 me. It was a happy day when your son brought 
 her to my lonely house." 
 
 " For you, sir, but not for us," said Mr. Ross, 
 dejectedly. 
 
 Before an answer could be given, Adela's voice 
 was heard at a short distance. 
 
 " May I come now, papa ? Natty has caught 
 me a funny turtle, that shuts up its head and tail, 
 and makes a box of itself. I'll give it to you, 
 papa, and if Mr. Mullins is disagreeable again, 
 you can take it out of his mouth some evening." 
 
 She ran into the arbor, full of gay vivacity ; 
 but the mirth faded from her face when she saw 
 that Mrs. Boss was weeping. Dropping her new 
 prize, she sprang to her protectress, crying : 
 
 " Mamma, mamma, what is the matter % What 
 has happened ?" 
 
NATTY BARTON S MAGIC 231 
 
 " Something strange has happened," said the 
 sorrowing lady, endeavoring to control herself. 
 " Something fortunate for you, Adela, but very 
 sad for me. "We have just learned that Mr. 
 Huntington is your uncle." 
 
 " My uncle !" exclaimed the child, in amaze- 
 ment, and looking curiously at the lawyer. " Are 
 you my uncle ? Are you — are you my mamma's 
 brother 2" 
 
 " I am, my dear," he answered ; " I am your 
 mother's brother, but not this lady's. She — " 
 
 " What do } r ou mean V demanded Adela. " I 
 cannot understand." 
 
 " Come hither, my love," he replied, drawing 
 her to him. " I am truly your uncle, and I thank 
 God that I have found you. You are the only 
 one of my near kindred left. My home is yours, 
 and you must never leave me." 
 
 "Mamma, what is he saying?" she cried, 
 breaking from him, and rushing again to Mrs. 
 Eoss. "I am your little girl, and papa's, and 
 nobody else's." 
 
 " My darling, we must think of what is right 
 and just. Mr. Huntington will love you dearly, 
 and will never separate us wholly, I believe. 
 To-night I will tell you all that we have just 
 learned. You will let her stay with us, sir, while 
 we are in Fenlowe ?" 
 
232 NATTY BARTON S MAGIC 
 
 "I will always stay with you," declared the 
 child, in a passion of grief and fear. " Do not 
 send me away, mamma. Oh, dear mamma, I 
 shall die if you do !" 
 
 For a moment nothing more was heard than 
 her piteous sobs, as she lay in Mrs. Ross's arms. 
 Then the lawyer spoke again, in faltering ac- 
 cents. 
 
 " It would be hard indeed if the heart of my 
 sister's child were turned against me on the very 
 day of her restoration. Listen to me, dear. This 
 must be your home, as I have said ; but I have 
 no wish to take you from her avIio has cherished 
 and guarded you all your life. Your strong af- 
 fection for her shows how worthily she has tried 
 to fill the place of the mother whom you never 
 knew. It is too early to speak decisively, but I 
 am confident we can arrange a plan by which 
 Mrs. Ross will consent to watch over you here- 
 after, as she has always done." 
 
 " You will not keep mamma away from me ? 
 She is my mamma, you know," said the trem- 
 bling girl, still anxious and alarmed. 
 
 " Not for the world, if she will remain with us. 
 Are you, Mr. Ross, much attached to your pres- 
 ent calling ?" 
 
 " Frankly, sir," answered the magician, " it 
 was pleasant, when Ave were younger, to wander 
 
-Wjj ' 
 
NATTY BAKT0N S MAGIC 233 
 
 about the country, earning our humble liveli- 
 hood by providing amusement for others; but 
 the charm does not last forever, and the chances 
 of success are uncertain, as you have seen. Yet, 
 at my age, it is not easy to strike into a new 
 path." 
 
 "Leave that to me," said Mr. Huntington. 
 u My interests are large, and I shall have no dif- 
 ficulty, I think, in offering you a satisfactory oc- 
 cupation. Nothing that I can do will ever repay 
 what I owe you." 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Huntington," exclaimed the still be- 
 wildered child, " do you mean that mamma shall 
 rest here, and get well and strong ?" 
 
 " I hope so." 
 
 " And papa shall have no more trouble ?" 
 
 " ISTot if you and I can prevent it." 
 
 " Then you are the best gentleman I ever 
 knew, and I am willing to be your little girl, 
 too. But it is so wonderful. More wonderful 
 than anything I have seen you do, papa." 
 
 '' Yes, dear," Mr. Ross acknowledged ; " and it 
 is all real, too, though I can hardly believe it yet. 
 We are not the enchanters in this case. Natty 
 Barton is the magician who has brought it all 
 about." 
 
 So every one felt and said. Natty's honest 
 face glowed as he listened to the praise and 
 
234 NATTY BAETON S MAGIC 
 
 thanks lavished upon him, and his mother was 
 proud of the happy consequences of her boy's 
 kindly actions. As Mr. Huntington had assured 
 them, there was no difficulty in finding a suita- 
 ble field for Mr. Ross's activit} r , and his industry 
 and fidelit}^ made him a valuable agent in con- 
 ducting portions of his wealthy patron's private 
 business. He took charge of considerable prop- 
 ert} r in Fenlowe, including the hall from which 
 so unfair an attempt had been made to banish 
 him ; for the owner decided, after investigation, 
 that it was not wise to lease that establishment 
 again to a man of Mr. Mullins's unpleasant hu- 
 mors. Many persons were forward in express- 
 ing doubts as to the propriety of prolonging the 
 connection between Robert Huntington's niece 
 and her former guardians, whose recent calling 
 could not be forgotten, and whose social grade 
 was supposed to be far below that to which the 
 newly discovered heiress had risen. But the 
 lawyer sturdily rejected these suggestions, de- 
 claring that the conduct of the kind-hearted con- 
 jurer and his wife in fostering the orphan child 
 had been generous and noble ; and that, as they 
 had brought back the sunshine to his home, he 
 would do his best to keep the clouds away from 
 their future life. He never had cause to repent 
 his resolution. Mrs. Ross's devotion was con- 
 
NATTY BARTON S MAGIC 235 
 
 stant, and the young girl's destiny was secure in 
 her tender and loving care. Adela Ross gave 
 place in name to Helen Huntington (since her 
 uncle could not bear to hear her called Helen 
 Greaves), but her sweet and gracious spirit re- 
 mained unchanged, and was the light and cheer 
 of the household in which she was treasured. 
 The years passed by, filled with tranquil happi- 
 ness to those who Avere brought together by the 
 events here narrated, and with a never-fading 
 recollection of the beneficent results of Natty 
 Barton's magic. 
 
OUR UGLY IDOL 
 
 BITTERS 
 
 Ugly? Well, since you ask me, I will admit 
 lie's not a handsome dog, but we never think 
 about that, one way or the other. As to his be- 
 ing a proper dog for the parlor, I can only say 
 that if there was a better room than the par- 
 lor anywhere in our house, he would always 
 be welcome to it. Would you like to know 
 why ? Then you shall hear it all from the be- 
 ginning. 
 
 I was just fourteen years old when I became 
 the owner of Scar. He had a history before he 
 was given to me, which I must tell first, in order 
 to introduce him properly. Good dogs have as 
 much right to an introduction as good boys and 
 girls, or grown-up people, for that matter. If 
 you should see Scar go through the ceremony of 
 
OUK UGLY IDOL 237 
 
 a polite introduction, you would say — but never 
 mind ; it is too early to speak of such things as 
 his manners in company. 
 
 When I mention good dogs I do not mean that 
 Scar always belonged to that class. Most of us 
 thought at one time that he was a very bad dog. 
 His first master lived at the corner of our street, 
 and kept a shop with a large window, on which 
 the words " Fruit Store " were painted. When I 
 was about ten years old I went in there once 
 and inquired if I could buy a watermelon. Laura, 
 my little sister, was with me. The place was full 
 of rough men, who looked as if they had no in- 
 terest in watermelons or any kind of fruit. They 
 all began to laugh, but the shopkeeper w T as very 
 civil and good-natured. He said he had sold his 
 watermelons, but he had a nice lemon to offer 
 me, if that would do. I supposed it would have 
 to do, because I saw nothing else that looked like 
 fruit. I did not much want it, but the man 
 seemed so sorry about the melon that I hated to 
 go without taking something. When I asked 
 what the price was he said he couldn't think of 
 charging anything, as that was my first visit. So 
 I thanked him, and Laura thanked him too very 
 prettily, upon which he gave her a lump of sugar 
 and some little sticks of cinnamon which he took 
 from a saucer, and wrapped up in a piece of pa- 
 
238 OUR UGLY IDOL 
 
 per. Then he asked if we would like to see his 
 beautiful dog. 
 
 Of course I said we should like it, and he told 
 a boy to bring Bitters, which I thought was a 
 strange name for a dog, and particularly for a 
 beautiful dog. But when Bitters appeared I was 
 still more astonished. He was a bull-terrier, all 
 tan -color, with dreadfully impatient eyes and 
 quarrelsome teeth. He was covered with dirt, 
 and had the most disagreeable appearance of any 
 dog I ever met. 
 
 "Isn't he a picture? 1 ' said the shopman. 
 
 I supposed he loved his dog, as everybody does, 
 and I didn't wish to hurt his feelings ; so I an- 
 swered : " I don't know much about that kind of 
 dog. Perhaps he isn't very well to-day." 
 
 " Oh, he's in prime condition," said the man. 
 "He killed sixteen rats this morning, and whip- 
 ped a dog twice his size only an hour ago." 
 
 " Dear me," said I ; "he does look a little fierce." 
 
 " Bless you, no," answered the man. " He had 
 lots of fierceness in him when he was a puppy, 
 but we drove it all into his ears and tail, and 
 then we cut them off. Now he's as gentle as an 
 angel baby." 
 
 When Laura heard this she stepped forward to 
 caress him ; but he suddenly curled up his lip 
 like a cockle-shell, and snarled in such an ill- 
 
OUK UGLY IDOL 239 
 
 tempered way that I thought it best to jump in 
 front of his mouth. It was well I did so, for he 
 made a quick snap, and tore away a strip of my 
 trousers. It might have been a strip of me, which 
 would have been bad ; but if it had been a strip 
 of Laura, that would have been horrible. 
 
 The shopman gave Bitters a frightful kick, 
 and scolded the boy savagely for not minding 
 the rope with which the dog was held. Then he 
 turned to me very anxiously, and I noticed that 
 his voice was unsteady as he spoke. 
 
 " I wouldn't have had it happen for a hundred 
 dollars," he said. " But he didn't hurt you? Xo, 
 nor frighten you either, I'll be bound. You are 
 a brave little man, to stand between danger and 
 your sister. If ever I part with Bitters, you shall 
 have him — there ! But now, young gentleman, 
 you'd better go. Much obliged for your visit, 
 but this isn't quite the place for you. Don't 
 think hard of Bitters. Bitters is a good dog." 
 
 But this is not what I meant by a proper in- 
 troduction to Scar. It may stand as my intro- 
 duction to him, if you please, for, as you have 
 guessed, Bitters and Scar are one and the same 
 person. If you have studied French, } r ou will 
 permit me to refer to him as Scar, ne Bitters. 
 But I wish him to have a different sort of intro- 
 duction to you, lest you should be too severely 
 
240 OUR UGLY IDOL 
 
 prejudiced against him at the outset. I must 
 acknowledge that after that first interview I 
 made no attempt to keep up the acquaintance, 
 and in fact we did not come together again till 
 close upon the end of my thirteenth year, when 
 a startling event occurred. 
 
 Papa had often spoken about the misfortune 
 of having a common bar-room (for that is what 
 the " fruit store " truly was) so near our house, 
 but said it was one of the troubles that could not 
 always be avoided in a large city. One night 
 there was a great disturbance at the corner. I 
 slept too soundly to hear the pistol-shots and the 
 breaking glass ; but next morning we were told 
 there had been a terrible fight, and that the 
 keeper of the place had been nearly killed. He 
 did, in fact, die a few days later. The most 
 remarkable thing was that the murderer was 
 caught and brought to justice by — whom do you 
 think? By nobody but Bitters, the bull-terrier. 
 During the fight he fastened himself upon the 
 man who had struck down his master, and never 
 let go his grip until the police came. The poor 
 dog was cruelly cut and mangled, but nothing 
 could loosen his hold ; and although he was half 
 insensible, they had to pry his mouth open with 
 one of those patent corkscrews that look like the 
 letter X, before they could get him away. 
 
OUR TJGLY IDOL 241 
 
 Bitters and his master were taken to the same 
 hospital, for the liquor- dealer was well off, and 
 could pay for his fancies. The doctors did all 
 they could for them both, but the man's health 
 had been ruined by evil habits, and he died. Bit- 
 ters had not been well brought up, it is true ; but 
 at least he was not a drinking dog, and his con- 
 stitution was sound. So he eventually got well. 
 
 "We first heard of the barkeeper's death and 
 burial in this way : A woman called one evening 
 and asked if she could speak with Mr. Etheridge 
 and his eldest son. Papa went alone to see who 
 it was and what she wanted, but presently he 
 sent for mamma and me. 
 
 " This is the widow of Mr. Kerrigan, who lived 
 at the corner," said my father. " She has a pro- 
 posal to make to Arthur." 
 
 "Indeed yes, sir and ma'am," said the woman, 
 who spoke with a brogue which I don't think I 
 will try to imitate. " That is the young gentle- 
 man, and this it is I have to tell. "When my poor 
 Michael was settling his affairs, just before he 
 died, he says to me, ' Matilda Kerrigan, there's 
 Bitters. It is hard upon me to give up the dog, 
 but it's a matter of three years ago that I prom- 
 ised if I ever parted with him he should be made 
 over to young Mister Etheridge, for I believe 
 that lad has the spirit in him to manage the 
 
242 OUK UGLY IDOL 
 
 beast, and the heart to train him up as becomes 
 a dog of his merit. Do you mind,' says Michael, 
 ' the day he stood up against Bitters, man to 
 man, and never budged while the brute was mak- 
 ing mince-meat of his pantaloons V Often would 
 my husband talk about it, sir and ma'am, almost 
 as proud of your son, asking your pardon for the 
 liberty, as he was of the bull-terrier ; and Tiim he 
 looked upon as if the dog was own twins with 
 our little Michael, they being the same age to a 
 week." 
 
 I saw my father lift his eyebrows, and mamma 
 look rather uncomfortable — I presume at the 
 idea of my having anything to do with so fero- 
 cious an animal. It was not an agreeable idea to 
 me either, though I naturally felt interested in 
 Mrs. Kerrigan's story. 
 
 "When Michael was buried," she went on, 
 " the dog was able to limp about, and nothing 
 we could do would keep him from going to the 
 funeral. Hard words he laughed at, and when 
 the undertaker showed him a whip he lifted his 
 lip till you saw the black mischief creeping all 
 around his mouth. So he was allowed to make a 
 separate procession by himself, under the hearse, 
 interfering with nobody so long as nobody inter- 
 fered with him. But it was great trouble he 
 gave us at the grave, trying to leap in, the faith- 
 
OUK UGLY IDOL 243 
 
 fill dumb creature, and begging to be covered 
 out of sight with his master. Then my heart 
 went straight to him, and I paid half a dollar 
 each to Jane Eooue}^'s two boys to bring him 
 home, and a losing job it was for them, the doc- 
 tor and the ointment for Jimmy Rooney's legs 
 costing more than the whole bargain money. 
 And now, sir and ma'am, it's filled with shame I 
 am at what comes next. Well did I remember 
 Michael's command, but the pride that was in 
 me at owning the noblest beast in the ward held 
 my hand, and I took no heed of my honest duty. 
 'A comfort to my loneliness he shall be,' says I, 
 ' with visitors coming from all parts to admire 
 the marks of his wounds in the fight.' " 
 
 " You are quite right, Mrs. Kerrigan," said my 
 father. " Don't give him up on any account. 
 No one else could appreciate him so well as 
 you do." 
 
 " Thank you, sir, for the kind words," replied 
 Mrs. Kerrigan. " But I've had a warning. Not 
 one warning only, but many. The first night 
 after the burying I tied him in the yard, as usual, 
 and in the morning he was gone, leaving nothing 
 but the end of his rope. We hunted till the 
 afternoon, when a gateman came from the ceme- 
 teiy, very angry, telling me to take the dog from 
 Mr. Kerrigan's lot, or they would shoot him. We 
 
244 OUR UGLY IDOL 
 
 got him home again, and fastened him with a 
 chain, but the power that's in him you'd not be- 
 lieve. He broke it short off ; and when we sent 
 the next day, knowing by this time where to 
 hunt for him, we found him stretched on the 
 sods, looking weary and downcast, but not dis- 
 contented till he was pulled away. Then we 
 locked him in the kitchen, and again no use, for 
 at daylight it was empty, except a few hairs 
 sticking to the broken glass in the window. And 
 so it went on. Sometimes we managed to keep 
 him overnight, but sooner or later he was off, 
 and nothing could stay him. Once he jumped 
 from the second story to the street, and once 
 he crawled up from the cellar to the sidewalk 
 through the tunnel while we were taking in coals. 
 How he ever found his way is the wonder of 
 wonders, for it is full four miles to the grave- 
 yard, and Bitters, being a bull - terrier, has no 
 nose to help him, sir, as you know quite well, 
 ma'am. But Bitters is no common dog ; indeed, 
 indeed he is not." 
 
 Perhaps it was because I had lately been read- 
 ing of a dog in Edinburgh, Scotland, who showed 
 the same devotion to his dead master; but what- 
 ever was the reason, something suddenly made 
 me feel very differently towards Bitters from 
 what I had ever felt before. I wanted to say so 
 
OUR UGLY IDOL 245 
 
 at once, but papa checked me, and Mrs. Kerrigan 
 brought her story to a close. 
 
 " Now I see my way clear, and it makes me 
 tremble to think of the harm that might have 
 come from my disobeying Michael's last words. 
 And I made up my mind to-day to do what is 
 right and dutiful. The dog is young Mister 
 Etheridge's from this hour. A fine creature he 
 is, and a delight he'll be to his new owner. It 
 does distress me to let him go, with his playful- 
 ness and his pretty ways, but I know he will be 
 well treated and respected in this house. No- 
 body could help taking kindly to Bitters. You 
 say the word, sir, and I'll leave him here this 
 very night." 
 
 My father is a most considerate man, and I 
 knew he did not like to let Mrs. Kerrigan see the 
 difference between our opinion of Bitters and her 
 own. Moreover, as he told me afterwards, he 
 was unwilling to make light of her superstitious 
 notions about the warning, or to alarm her by 
 sending her away with a positive refusal. lie 
 said to her : 
 
 "Madam, it would be impossible to receive 
 such a guest as your bull-terrier without making 
 some preparation, and indeed your generous offer 
 deserves more reflection than I can give it at this 
 moment. I will call on 3^011 to-morrow evening, 
 
246 OUR UGLY IDOL 
 
 and will then let yon know our decision in the 
 matter." 
 
 Then, observing an expression of disappoint- 
 ment on her face, he added, "I assure you we 
 are greatly struck by your dog's courage and 
 endurance, and especially his rare fidelity." 
 
 Our visitor looked as if she wondered how 
 anybody could hesitate when such a splendid 
 chance was freely presented, but she simply an- 
 swered thus : " ]STo doubt, sir and ma'am, you 
 feel the responsibility of taking charge of a dog 
 like Bitters, and of course it does fall heavy upon 
 a young person. But my husband was clear- 
 headed, and when it came to sporting animals 
 his judgment was sound. He wouldn't have 
 picked out your son without good reason. Be- 
 sides, there's the warnings." 
 
 As soon as she had gone, my mother said : 
 " There is nothing to be done but to make the 
 refusal as easy as possible, and not allow the 
 poor woman to know what an awful monster 
 that dog is in our sight. She evidently thinks it 
 one of the greatest treasures on the earth." 
 
 My father looked steadily at me, and reflected 
 for a moment before he answered. 
 
 " This is my idea," he said at last : " we will 
 have a family parliament on the subject to-mor- 
 row afternoon ; vour uncle Richard shall come to 
 
OUR UGLY IDOL 247 
 
 dinner, Arthur, and take part in the debate. I 
 promise to listen carefully to all that may be said 
 on both sides of the question, and my judgment 
 shall be impartial. Don't you think that will be 
 better than to settle it hastily now ?" 
 
 "Oh yes, indeed, papa," I cried; "much better, 
 if mamma is willing." 
 
 "Quite Avilling," said mamma, smiling ; "but 
 you must not expect me to speak in favor of ac- 
 cepting Bitters." 
 
 Then I went to bed, eagerly looking forward 
 to the next day's family parliament, at which I 
 meant to plead with all my might for the poor 
 animal, which seemed so much in need of my 
 protection. And if I must fail, I thought to my- 
 self, it should not be for want of hard trying. 
 
 II 
 
 SCAR 
 
 By the time our meeting was held on the fol- 
 lowing afternoon I had forgotten almost every- 
 thing there was unpleasant about the dog in my 
 admiration of his virtues of bravery and fidelity. 
 Uncle Richard came promptly, and told us he 
 
248 OUR UGLY IDOL 
 
 had already constituted himself a committee to 
 make inquiries in the neighborhood, but he would 
 not tell us whether he had formed any opinion or 
 not. At four o'clock papa invited mamma, Uncle 
 Richard, and me into his study, and asked us to 
 take places at his large table. 
 
 " I have called this assemblage together," he 
 said, " because it seems proper to give Arthur a 
 fair hearing. Last night he was rather too con- 
 fused and excited to express himself clearly. 
 Now let us listen to what he lias to say." 
 
 I had a great deal to say — more, I am afraid, 
 than mamma was pleased to hear. But she was 
 very patient, and listened kindly while I told 
 about the dog in Scotland that had become fa- 
 mous for acting almost exactly as Bitters had done, 
 and asked if it was not possible that a creature 
 so fearless and so true to its master might have 
 other good qualities which we could find out by 
 looking for them diligently. Then I pointed to 
 our picture of the Education of an Eastern Prince, 
 where there is a lion, very majestic, but very 
 gentle, without any fastening, and surrounded by 
 children. I said I thought if a lion could be 
 made so mild by careful training, a bull-terrier 
 could surely be tamed. 
 
 " I see, my dear," said mamma, good-naturedly ; 
 " you want to be the Eastern Prince." 
 
OUR UGLY IDOL 240 
 
 "No, mamma," I said. " Baby Daisy shall be 
 an Eastern Princess, if you please ; I will be only 
 the keeper." 
 
 " But a lion is a noble-looking beast," said mam- 
 ma, " and this is such a hideous thing !" 
 
 So he was ; I could not deny that ; but after 
 considering a little, I said : " He wouldn't be quite 
 so ugly as he is if his head had not been cut while 
 he was defending his master. I remember, mam- 
 ma, what you have always told us about honor- 
 able scars." 
 
 Mamma laughed, and gave an odd look at 
 Uncle Kichard, who had been wounded badly in 
 the face during the war. 
 
 " Oho, young gentleman !" exclaimed my uncle, 
 ii so you mean to bring me in as an example and 
 an argument." 
 
 " No, Uncle Kichard," I answered, feeling not 
 at all comfortable. " I couldn't do that ; at least, 
 I did not mean to, only just at the moment — " 
 ! " I see," he said, making it easy by interrupt- 
 ing me. " It was natural enough. But, Arthur, 
 your mother does not object so much to the dog's 
 appearance as to his violent temper and cross 
 disposition." 
 
 "I know it," said I, "but all that might be 
 changed. Uncle Kichard, I thought you would 
 be on my side. Oh, mamma, I should like to 
 
250 OUR UGLY IDOL 
 
 try ; I should be so proud if I could reform 
 him." 
 
 It turned out that Uncle Richard was on my 
 side, and papa not much against me ; and the end 
 of it was that mamma put away her unwilling- 
 ness, and I was allowed to take Bitters, with the 
 understanding that if I could not do anything 
 with him in a month I should give up the at- 
 tempt. I confess that when he was brought 
 into our yard at the end of a strong, heavy chain, 
 m}^ resolution was shaken. He was indeed an 
 awful object. His lower jaw seemed as if it 
 must have been intended for a dog several sizes 
 bigger, and his fore-legs were curved like a pair 
 of parenthesis marks, or a barrel-hoop cut in two. 
 His face had always been painful to look at, but 
 now it was ten times worse, owing to the blows 
 and slashes he had received. Then there was 
 one long seam stretching from the side of his 
 head down to where his tail ought to commence. 
 Uncle Richard, who was formerly a brigadier- 
 general, said there was more scar than dog, but 
 it was no disgrace, as he had been cut to pieces 
 in loyal combat. That first gave me the idea of 
 calling him Scar. None of us could bear the 
 name of Bitters, and Scar suited him exactly. 
 Everybody would be sure to ask what it meant, 
 and I could have the opportunity of telling his 
 
OUR UGLY IDOL 251 
 
 story, and letting people know there was more 
 good in him than you would suspect from his out- 
 ward looks. 
 
 Scar was so fierce and unfriendly, and so eager 
 all the time to break loose, that for several days 
 I could do nothing with him. I have no doubt 
 he was always thinking how he could get back 
 to the burial-ground. He sneered at every word 
 of kindness I spoke to him, and if I scolded, he 
 put on a look of scorn such as very few animals 
 except a full-blooded bull-terrier can show. I 
 read a great many books on dogs, but found noth- 
 ing in them that made any impression on him, 
 and I learned my first practical lesson at the ex- 
 pense of a terrible fright. 
 
 Freddy and Laura, my young brother and sister, 
 had been warned never to go near the spot where 
 Scar was fastened, but our baby, Daisy, was such 
 a little thing that nobody dreamed of her getting 
 into danger. Imagine what I felt when I came 
 in one day after school, by the back gate, and 
 saw Daisy lying on the ground entirely mixed 
 up with the dog, her arms around his neck, and 
 one of his paws all tangled in her curly hair. 
 My heart went to my mouth, I can tell you. I 
 hardly dared to stir, but as I stood staring at 
 them, Daisy began to laugh, and I could see 
 the bristles wiggle at the end of Scar's back, 
 
252 OUE UGLY IDOL 
 
 where the tail would have joined the body if it 
 hadn't been cut short off. That was as near as 
 he could come to a wag, and I believe he meant 
 to tell me there was nothing to be alarmed 
 about, and that Daisy was safe in his society. 
 When I went straight to him, without stopping 
 to think how cross he generally was, and pulled 
 him away from her, he did not make the least 
 objection, and only blinked his queer little eyes, 
 as much as to say, " Oh, if you are going to take 
 that tone with me, and act as a master ought to 
 act, and not be afraid of me, I suppose I must 
 submit." And that was exactly what I did. 
 
 From that moment I had no trouble with Scar. 
 He was as yielding as if he had never known 
 what obstinacy was. He always understood 
 that he belonged to me and nobody else, but 
 he seemed to have the greatest fondness for 
 Daisy. She could take all sorts of liberties with 
 him, and the more she took the better pleased 
 he was. I believe it was because she was the 
 first one to go to him without any fear, and 
 make a playfellow of him. 
 
 Pretty soon I began to teach him tricks. Some 
 people say bull-terriers are dull and stupid, and 
 that their foreheads are so low they have no 
 room for brains. That wasn't so with Scar. He 
 had plenty of brains somewhere. Maybe they 
 
H __ _^ s = = 
 
OUK UGLY IDOL 253 
 
 were down in his lower jaw, where there was 
 room enough for anything. He was willing to 
 learn all that I could teach hiin, and he grew 
 quite vain as his education progressed. In less 
 than six months he was the talk of our neighbor- 
 hood. Mrs. Kerrigan came once to see him, but 
 she did not like him at all in his new character. 
 She said I had made a French poodle of him, and 
 that he was fit only for a circus, and would never 
 be worth anything in a fight. But I didn't want 
 him to fight any more, now that he was my dog. 
 We took off his chain after the first few weeks, 
 and he made no attempt to run away. But one 
 afternoon, when we were out driving, and Scar 
 was following the carriage, we happened to pass 
 the gate of a large cemetery. In an instant he 
 left us, and disappeared in one of the avenues. 
 It was easy to understand where he had gone. 
 With mother's permission, I inquired where 
 Mr. Kerrigan was buried, and we all went in the 
 direction that was pointed out. As we drew 
 near a particular enclosure- we saw Scar before 
 he saw us; and what do you think he was doing? 
 He was going through his best tricks, one after 
 another, all alone on his old master's grave. I 
 wondered with all my heart what could be pass- 
 ing in the poor dog's mind. I asked mamma if 
 it was possible that he thought he could convey 
 
254 OUR UGLY IDOL 
 
 some idea of his accomplishments — of which he 
 was so proud— to his former owner, lying there 
 beneath the earth. Mamma said it might be so, 
 but on one could tell with certainty. She spoke 
 more kindly to Scar than I had ever before heard 
 her. He stopped performing at once, and looked 
 at us in a puzzled, inquiring way. I called him, 
 and after reflecting an instant he followed us 
 slowly, stopping every little while, however, as 
 if he wished he could persuade us to remain there 
 with him ; but he did not lose sight of us. Once 
 outside the cemetery, he realized what his true 
 duty was, and trotted after the carriage as steadily 
 as ever. Since then we have seen nothing in 
 Scar to make us think of what he was in the 
 days when he was young and kept bad company. 
 
 " Nothing except his ugliness," did you say ? 
 Well, as I told you before, no one in this family 
 cares much about that, or ever considers whether 
 he is ugly or not. We love him too well to want 
 him changed in any particular. There is some- 
 thing you haven't heard yet. 
 
 The next summer after he came to us I had 
 that bad attack of typhus-fever, as you may re- 
 member, and to help me over it father took us 
 all yachting up and down Long Island Sound. 
 One day, when we were stopping near New 
 London, I was lying on deck in a long chair, 
 
OUK UGLY IDOL 255 
 
 with Scar at my feet, and the other children play- 
 ing all around. Father and mother and Uncle 
 Eichard were in the cabin, out of the sun. Every 
 one of the crew had gone ashore except a single 
 man to keep watch. I was not well enough to 
 notice much of what was going on, so I under- 
 stood very little of how it happened ; but I knew 
 there was a great cry and a splash, and then, 
 turning myself about, I saw Daisy struggling in 
 the water. I was too weak to lift myself, and 
 neither Freddy nor Laura could do anything, of 
 course. I called to the watchman as loud as I 
 could, " Jump ! jump !" But he looked at me, 
 as pale as marble, and cried, "I can't, Master 
 Arthur ; I can't swim a stroke." Only think of 
 it, and he a good sailor, too ! But he was over 
 the side and in a boat with wonderful speed. 
 
 Quick as he was, however, there was somebody 
 quicker. Like an echo to Daisy's splash, I heard 
 another, and there was Scar banging the surface 
 of Long Island Sound with his crooked paws, and 
 holding Daisy's dress in his great mouth. I could 
 hardly believe my eyes, for Scar hated water 
 like medicine, and would not even be washed 
 without making a mighty fuss ; and there's many 
 a bull-terrier would sooner drown than swim a 
 stroke for his life. But there he was — I don't 
 know how to tell it — coughing, sneezing, splutter- 
 
256 OUR UGLY IDOL 
 
 ing, kicking out all ways at once, but never let- 
 ting go his hold of Daisy's frock. Everything 
 seemed to take place together, at the same mo- 
 ment. Father and mother and Uncle Richard 
 came running from below just as the sailor 
 picked up Daisy and dragged her into tne boat. 
 In a minute more she was in mamma's arms, 
 and we were all happy, though everybody was 
 crying. 
 
 Suddenly I thought of Scar. He was not with 
 us ; but I heard a strange spattering noise, and 
 looking hastily around, I saw the dear dog fight- 
 ing blindly against the waves many yards away 
 from the yacht. He was plunging around in a 
 little circle, making no headway at all, while his 
 big underjaw scooped in mouthfuls of salt-water, 
 which I knew were choking him. For an instant 
 his little eyes looked straight into mine. He 
 made a sort of bound, and then fell back. Oh, 
 poor dear Scar ! I was very weak, too Aveak to 
 keep my senses, and — and I'm foolish about it 
 yet, I suppose, but I can't tell you any more for 
 a minute or two. Please wait a little, and you 
 shall hear the end. 
 
 You must not think any the worse of me for 
 fainting. I know very well that boys have no 
 business to faint when they are nearly grown-up 
 men, and especially when they own a dog like 
 
OTJE UGLY IDOL 257 
 
 Scar, who sets them an example of pluck and 
 grit. But remember how ill I had been. And 
 then to see Daisy in such danger, and my faith- 
 ful dog lifting himself up out of the waves to say 
 good-bye to me, and everybody screaming— ex- 
 cept Scar, for he would die a hundred times over 
 before crying out once— it was natural I should 
 be upset. How could I help it ? 
 
 When I woke up I found I had gone through 
 something worse than a fainting fit. The ex- 
 citement had brought on my fever again, and 
 for many days I had been in a very bad way. 
 Mother's face was the first thing before me as I 
 opened my eyes. Father stood close beside her. 
 How they brightened up when they saw that I 
 recognized them! I was greatly surprised to 
 find myself in my own room at home, for I had 
 no idea that we had left the yacht and been on 
 shore nearly two weeks. I had to work hard to 
 collect my thoughts, and even when I remem- 
 bered that awful scene on the Sound I could not 
 account for my being so feeble and dizzy. Mam- 
 ma took me in her arms and papa stroked my 
 head, but nothing was said until I managed to 
 whisper my little sister's name. Without speak- 
 ing, papa turned around and lifted our Daisy 
 out of an arm-chair, where she had been lying 
 asleep. I can't tell you what I felt at the sight 
 
258 OUE TTGLY IDOL 
 
 of that darling child all safe and well. But soon 
 my mind took another turn, and everything grew 
 mournful and miserable as I thought of the 
 brave life that had been lost in saving hers. 
 Papa and mamma must have seen the change in 
 me, for they looked anxious and perplexed. 
 
 " My dear, dear Scar," I whispered again. I 
 could not myself hear the words distinctly, but 
 the moment they passed my lips there was a 
 rustle on the carpet at the foot of the bed, and 
 instantly after I felt something moist and com- 
 fortable and familiar touching my hand. Weak 
 as I was, I pulled myself up on the pillow, and 
 — oil ! joyful sight ! — there was Scar, bouncing up 
 and down, thumping the floor in his lovely, awk- 
 ward style, and giving me his word as a dog of 
 honor that he had never in his life been so hap- 
 py as he was that moment. He couldn't have 
 been happier than I, bless him ! though he had 
 the advantage of me in being able to make more 
 noise about it. 
 
 It was Uncle Richard I had to thank for res- 
 cuing Scar. While all was in confusion on 
 board the yacht, Uncle Richard saw what had 
 occurred, and without stopping even to take off 
 his spectacles, he jumped into the water, caught 
 the dog, and held him up until the watchman 
 who couldn't swim went out in the boat once 
 
OUR UGLY IDOL 259 
 
 more. On this occasion he was made to under- 
 stand that he mustn't leave anybody behind. 
 Uncle Richard always was my favorite, and if 
 he didn't know it before, he knew it the next 
 time he came to see me. 
 
 " It's all right, Arty," he said. " Battered old 
 veterans like Scar and myself are bound to help 
 one another. He would like nothing better 
 than to do me an equally good turn in his own 
 fashion." 
 
 It was Uncle Richard, too, who gave Scar the 
 medal that hangs from his collar. It is a small 
 copy of the medal which Congress gave my uncle 
 for gallantry during the war. When a dog can 
 wear such a decoration as that, and has the re- 
 spect of a Union brigadier-general, and the love 
 and gratitude of a family like ours, he need not 
 be envious of other dogs' beauty. That's what 
 I say, and so says Scar. 
 
TRY AGAIN TRESCOTT'S WAGER 
 a ffouttb of 5ulg BDventure 
 
 It is the meanest thing that ever was done !" 
 exclaimed an excited youngster about ten years 
 old, who stood surrounded by a disconsolate 
 group in the playground of Mr Brace's school. 
 
 " So it is !" cried another, in still greater agita- 
 tion. " Nobody but Jim Potter would play such 
 a trick." 
 
 " What shall we do ?" demanded a third. 
 " Can't we get somebody to help us?" 
 
 No one was ready with a reply, and the lads 
 looked ruefully at one another in silence, until 
 their attention was attracted by the approach of 
 an older boy, who came running down the steps 
 of the school-house, in which he had been de- 
 tained later than the others. 
 
 " Here's Try Again Trescott," shouted the lit- 
 
TRY AGAIN TEESCOTT S WAGER 261 
 
 tie complainant who had first spoken. " Let us 
 tell him about it." 
 
 " He'll only laugh at us," said the youngest of 
 the party. 
 
 "Who cares for that? He doesn't like Jim 
 Potter, and I know he will do something. You 
 see if he won't. I say, wait a minute, Try Again 
 Trescott !" 
 
 Charles Trescott was his proper name, but all his 
 comrades, and, in fact, everybody who knew him, 
 called him Try Again Trescott, in consequence of 
 a peculiar habit which distinguished him among 
 the juvenile populace of New Milford, where he 
 was attending school during the summer. He 
 did not belong to that pleasant Connecticut vil- 
 lage, but had been sent thither from New York 
 to live and study during the absence of his par- 
 ents in Europe. Most of his associates thought 
 him a good sort of fellow, though in the early 
 daj r s of his residence he was held in rather low 
 esteem on account of his complete ignorance of 
 the rural sports and pastimes in which the young- 
 people of that region chiefly delighted. He could 
 neither fish nor swim, knew nothing of the man- 
 agement of a boat, and had never mounted a 
 horse in his life. The diversions of woods and 
 fields and hills were all strange to him. Of the 
 higher enjoyments of streams and lakes he was 
 
262 TRY AGAIN TEESCOTT S WAGEE 
 
 wholly incapable. For a time it really did seem 
 that he was not good for much of anything 
 which country boys care for. 
 
 But this lasted only a little while. Those who 
 made fun of his awkwardness, and jeered at his 
 efforts to become familiar with out-door exercises, 
 presently found that he had resolved to partici- 
 pate sooner or later in every one of the local 
 amusements. He was not very quick to learn, 
 but his perseverance and determination carried 
 him through difficulties which nobody imagined 
 he could conquer alone. "Whenever he failed in 
 any trial — and he failed a great many times — he 
 took his discomfiture good-naturedly, and simply 
 said he would " try again." His first attempt to 
 keep himself afloat in the Housatonic River was 
 a dismal exhibition. He went to the bottom like 
 a lump of lead, and swallowed so much water 
 that he declared he did not expect to be thirsty 
 again for a month. But he " tried again," morn- 
 ing and evening, practising all alone in the little 
 Mystic, a shallow branch of the Housatonic, and 
 Jong before the other boys supposed he had 
 learned enough to keep his head above the 
 waves, he plunged in among them one day, and 
 astonished them by offering to race with Jim 
 Potter, who was the youthful champion of the 
 town in more than one line of achievement. 
 
TRY AGAIN TRESCOTT S WAGER 263 
 
 Trescott was beaten badly, and everybody jeered 
 at his audacity in matching himself against so 
 redoubtable an opponent. He acknowledged the 
 defeat becomingly, but intimated that it would 
 do no harm to try again ; and a fortnight later 
 he had the satisfaction of distancing Jim Potter 
 by three lengths, in a turn around the half- 
 sunken log which marked the usual swimming 
 course. 
 
 By carrying the same methods into his studies, 
 he won the good-will of his teacher and a high 
 place in his class, although he never seemed to 
 accomplish any particular thing with especial 
 skill or startling brilliancy. His schoolmates 
 could not understand how he managed to rise 
 above most of them, when it was evident that 
 half a dozen or more were at least quite as clever 
 as he. Jim Potter said, contemptuously, that 
 Trescott had " a sneaking way of getting ahead." 
 But Jim Potter was far from popular, and his 
 bad opinion was not generally shared, notwith- 
 standing that he tried in every way he could 
 think of to create an ill-feeling against the city 
 boy. Yery few could be brought to believe there 
 was anything " sneaking " in Charley Trescott's 
 way of gradually mastering Potter at his own 
 games. Even at marbles, in which the village 
 leader's expertness was held to be almost super- 
 
264 TRY AGAIN TRESCOTT S WAGER 
 
 human, the new-comer acquired such prowess 
 that he became the possessor of the entire mag- 
 nificent collection which his rival had previously 
 won from less dexterous players. Trescott would 
 not keep them, however. He gave the whole lot 
 back, saying that he could get all the marbles 
 he wanted without gambling; and that some- 
 body had told him gambling was poor business 
 for a boy to take hold of. Then Jim Potter 
 scoffed at Trescott worse than ever, and pro- 
 claimed his conviction that such a prig ought to 
 be roundly dealt with for setting himself up as a 
 censor of the juvenile society of New Milford. 
 
 It was certain that Potter's notions with re- 
 gard to gambling were not at all disturbed by 
 his competitor's criticism, for he continued the 
 practice with the same diligence as before, and 
 with even greater success. Having won all the 
 available marbles of the community, he went on 
 persuading his victims to stake other articles of 
 property, and in the course of time contrived to 
 accumulate a veritable museum of fish-hooks, 
 jack-knives, loadstones, burning-glasses, and simi- 
 lar treasures. Most of these spoils had been 
 gathered in from boys much younger than him- 
 self, who, having an accurate knowledge of Pot- 
 ter's superior strength and lively temper, did not 
 venture to make open protest, and had to con- 
 
TRY AGAIN" TRESC0TT S "WAGER 265 
 
 tent themselves with looking glum and exchang- 
 ing doleful confidences. 
 
 But within the past fortnight Potter had pro- 
 ceeded to extremities which roused the most 
 timid to rebellion. Fourth of July was near at 
 hand, and the young folks had been busily col- 
 lecting materials for an appropriate celebration. 
 Everybody had at least something ready with 
 which to make patriotic noises and blazes on the 
 glorious anniversary, and a few fortunate indi- 
 viduals were so liberally provided as to excite 
 very unwholesome feelings of envy in the minds 
 of their less-favored companions. Then it was 
 that Jim Potter began to propose playing mar- 
 bles for choice fireworks, craftily offering odds, 
 Avhich he pretended would equalize the chances 
 between himself and those whose fingers were 
 not so nimble as his own. The result was that 
 two days before the jubilee he had become al- 
 most the sole possessor of the splendid assort- 
 ment of crackers, pin -wheels, Roman candles, 
 rockets, blue-lights, and the like, which had pre- 
 viously been distributed widely among the youth- 
 ful inhabitants of the town. 
 
 This was not all, though it was hard enough, 
 and perhaps the worst to bear. A travelling 
 show-man had come to the village on the 1st of 
 July with a sleight-of-hand exhibition, to which 
 
266 TRY AGAIN TEESC0TT S WAGEE 
 
 he offered admission at a very low price to all 
 the boys of Mr. Brace's school. Many had availed 
 themselves of this privilege ; but that greedy Jim 
 Potter had actually managed, by his usual meth- 
 ods, to get hold of the greater number of the 
 tickets, which he straightway disposed of to a 
 body of his personal followers. This select party 
 had attended the first performance on the even- 
 ing of the 2d, and through the greater part of 
 the following day had been so wildly extrava- 
 gant in expressing admiration that the poor little 
 fellows who had foolishly thrown away their 
 chances were driven into a frenzy of irritation 
 and disappointment. It was to discuss their woes, 
 and, if possible, to devise means of redress, that 
 the small committee had assembled in the man- 
 ner set forth at the beginning of this story. 
 
 II 
 
 Tet Again Teescott listened to their lamenta- 
 tions, and was sorry for them, yet he did not see 
 his way clear to doing anything for their relief. 
 He had, stored away at home, a first-class lot of 
 fireworks — finer, indeed, than that which Jim 
 Potter had accumulated by his knavish tricks — 
 
TRY AGAIN TRESCOTT S WAGER 267 
 
 which had been sent him as a present by an 
 uncle in JSTew York. Possibly the unhappy suf- 
 ferers thought he would generously offer to share 
 with them some portion of his rich abundance. 
 The impulse to do so was not wanting, but it 
 was hard for him, as it would have been hard for 
 any boy, to make up his mind to such a sacrifice 
 at such a time. It was not only these half-dozen 
 who had been fleeced, but pretty nearly the 
 whole school, and if he once began giving away, 
 there was no telling where he could stop. While 
 he was rapidly considering the matter, loud voices 
 were heard in the street, and a minute after, Jim 
 Potter, the originator of the trouble, came pranc- 
 ing in with two or three of his chums, chattering 
 eagerly about the wonderful feats they had wit- 
 nessed the night before. 
 
 " Try Again Trescott thinks he knows every- 
 thing," cried Potter, " because he comes from 
 New York, but I bet he never saw such a show 
 as this." 
 
 " I wouldn't care to see it in the way you did," 
 answered Trescott, quietly. 
 
 " The man put an apple on another man's 
 hand," continued Potter, paying no attention to 
 Trescott's remark, " and took a big, sharp, heavy 
 sword, and swung it round in the air, and cut 
 right through the apple, whiz ! — cut it in halves 
 
268 TRY AGAIN TRESCOTT S WAGER 
 
 — without touching the other fellow's hand. 
 Makes your eyes wink to think of it." 
 
 " Was he frightened V asked one of the small 
 lads, quite carried away by the glowing descrip- 
 tion. 
 
 " Who ? The other fellow % I guess not ! The 
 man offered to do it to any of us. Looked 
 straight at me, too." 
 
 " Did you try it ?" demanded the little ques- 
 tioner, breathlessly. 
 
 " Try it ?" echoed Potter, scornfully. " What 
 are you talking about ?" 
 
 "Why not?" said Trescott. 
 
 " Oh yes. Why not ? Think I want to have 
 my hand cut off ?" 
 
 " He wouldn't ask you," Trescott replied, " if 
 he wasn't sure he could do it without hurting 
 you." 
 
 " Get out ! Do you mean to say you would 
 let him ?" 
 
 " I don't know ; perhaps I would." 
 
 " Bet you a set of jack-stones you wouldn't !" 
 exclaimed Potter, whose thoughts were always 
 running on his favorite occupation. 
 
 " I don't bet very often, Jim Potter, but I 
 don't believe there was anything to be scared at." 
 
 "Oh, of course, you know all about it. I sup- 
 pose you think you could do the trick yourself." 
 
TRY AGAIN TRESCOTT S WAGER 269 
 
 " I suppose anybody could do it if he learned 
 how." 
 
 " Bet you a pickled lime you couldn't." 
 
 Trescott did not seem disposed to continue the 
 conversation, but Potter had no notion of letting 
 it drop. 
 
 " Bet you a box of fire-crackers you couldn't," 
 he persisted. 
 
 Trescott made no response. 
 
 "Bet you two boxes of fire-crackers and six 
 Roman candles you can't knock an apple off my 
 hand with a stick that way, and not touch me." 
 
 Again Trescott was silent. 
 
 " Bet you half my lot of fireworks against half 
 of yours." 
 
 The younger boys had listened without utter- 
 ing a word up to this point, but now one of them 
 broke in : 
 
 " Oh, do it, Try Again Trescott," he cried ; "do 
 it, and give us the fireworks. You won't want 
 them ; you have enough." 
 
 Trescott smiled, and shook his head. 
 
 " Bet you the whole of my fireworks against 
 yours," shouted Potter, his face red with fierce 
 excitement. 
 
 Raising his head, Trescott looked the plunderer 
 squarely in the eyes for a moment, and then said, 
 slowly, " I'll take that bet, Jim Potter." 
 
" 'i'll take that BET, JIM potter'" 
 
 His manner was so serious and earnest that, 
 while the little lads cheered and screamed tu- 
 multuously, Potter drew back a step as if in 
 doubt as to the wisdom of his proposal. But 
 he soon rallied, and began to name his condi- 
 tions. 
 
 " No fooling with swords," he said ; " I won't 
 stand that. You've got to take a stick and 
 swing it round with all your might, and knock 
 
TKY AGAIN TEESCOTt's WAGER. 271 
 
 an apple off my right hand without touching me. 
 I'll find the apple." 
 
 " Yes," replied Trescott, " and you'll see that 
 it's a small one. I'll find the stick, and I'll see 
 that it's a big one." 
 
 " That won't do you any good," sneered Pot- 
 ter, putting on a bold face, though he was more 
 than a littje daunted by his opponent's confi- 
 dence. " But, hold on ; you've never tried this 
 trick ?" 
 
 " I never heard of it in my life." 
 
 " All right, then ; you bring your fireworks, 
 and I'll bring mine. We'll settle it any time you 
 like." 
 
 " To-morrow morning, then," said Trescott, " at 
 eight o'clock, here in this playground." 
 
 Ill 
 
 The news of the wager and the expected con- 
 test flew around like the flash of a catherine- 
 wheel. Trescott's consent to take part in one of 
 Potter's questionable games was a surprise to the 
 New Milford boys, for his reluctance to engage 
 in anything that looked like gambling was well 
 known. It was observed, however, that he called 
 
272 TKY AGAIN TKESCOTT S WAGER 
 
 on the evening of the 3d at the house of his 
 teacher, kind old Mr. Brace, remaining there 
 about half an hour, and that when he came out 
 he was in the liveliest spirits and the best of 
 humors. Was it possible that he had told Mr. 
 Brace the whole story, and obtained his sanc- 
 tion to the proceedings ? This, however, was put 
 aside as a minor consideration. The interest and 
 curiosity of the youthful community were fixed 
 exclusively upon the coming event. 
 
 At eight o'clock on the morning of the Fourth 
 a great crowd was collected in the playground. 
 Trescott was one of the first to arrive with a 
 bundle, or, rather, a set of bundles, so large that 
 it seemed impossible for Potter to produce a dis- 
 play of equal value. It was indeed evident when 
 he came upon the scene that his ill-gotten store 
 was not to be compared with that of his antago- 
 nist, and some of the boys pointed this out, sug- 
 gesting that the stakes were not fairly propor- 
 tioned. But Potter insisted that the terms of 
 the bet had been plainly understood, and that 
 each combatant was to risk the total amount of 
 his combustible possessions. 
 
 " All right," said Trescott. " He shall have it 
 his own way. Let us get through with it as 
 soon as we can." 
 
 " I suppose you have been practising all night 
 
TEY AGAIN TEESCOTT S WAGEB 273 
 
 long," grumbled Potter, with a sniff of affected 
 disdain. 
 
 " I never took the stick in my hand till half an 
 hour ago," Trescott said to his own friends, rather 
 than in response to his adversary. 
 
 " Bet you ten fish-hooks you did !" cried Pot- 
 ter, who lost no chance of repeating his inva- 
 riable proposition. 
 
 The preparations were promptly made. Pot- 
 ter produced from his pocket the tiniest of crab- 
 apples, at which there was a shout of derision. 
 
 " It's an apple, anyway," asserted the village 
 gambler. "I have a right to choose my own 
 kind." 
 
 " Let him do as he likes ; a small apple suits 
 me best," said Trescott, to everybody's amaze- 
 ment, and somewhat to the consternation of 
 Potter and his party, all of whom were startled, 
 and their leader especially, by this cool and un- 
 looked-for announcement. 
 
 Bat there was no possibility of stopping the 
 affair at this point. Potter stretched out his 
 hand, and the withered little crab-apple was de- 
 posited on the palm. The New York lad flour- 
 ished his weapon in the air. It was a stout 
 walking-stick, with a big curved handle, and 
 the staring spectators noticed, with considerable 
 wonder, that Trescott held it by the ferrule end. 
 
274 TRY AGAIN TRESCOTT S WAGER 
 
 Thrice he whirled it around his head, and then 
 the stroke was given. "Was the apple touched ? 
 Not by the cane, at any rate. The heavy han- 
 dle crashed against Jim Potter's knuckles with a 
 thwack that might have been heard at each ex- 
 tremity of the village, and been mistaken for the 
 report of a giant torpedo. The apple dropped 
 to the ground, while he who held it danced and 
 howled and blew upon his fingers in a frenzy of 
 pain and rage. The greater number of the wit- 
 nesses were delighted with the result of the ex- 
 periment so far as its immediate effect upon Pot- 
 ter was concerned, and the little boys threw 
 themselves down and rolled about in ecstasies. 
 For the moment they thought only of the pun- 
 ishment of their persecutor, and gave no heed to 
 after consequences. 
 
 A minute passed before the sufferer could con- 
 trol his voice and speak coherently. Then he 
 marched up to Trescott and shook his injured 
 fist at him. 
 
 " I'll pay you for this some day," he screamed ; 
 " but, first of all, I'll take those fine fireworks of 
 yours. They belong to me now." 
 
 The sounds of acclamation suddenly ceased. 
 The transitory joy awakened by the spectacle of 
 the public enemy's anguish gave way to a deep 
 despondency. At the thought that their last 
 
TRY AGAIN TRESCOTT S WAGEE 275 
 
 hope of restitution was gone, the youngsters 
 wailed aloud. In the midst of general confusion, 
 Potter, with two or three followers, advanced to 
 seize the coveted prizes ; but as they were about 
 to lay hands on them, they were checked by 
 Trescott, who sprang forward, brandishing his 
 cane with an air of defiance, before which the 
 spoilers instinctively fell back. 
 
 "Wait, there, Jim Potter!" he called out, in 
 ringing tones. "I haven't finished yet. I've 
 only just begun. I never said I could do it the 
 first time. You know my name. I'm Try Again 
 Trescott !" 
 
 The boys stood motionless, gazing in stupefac- 
 tion at one another, until the full meaning of the 
 situation burst upon them. When the conviction 
 spread that Potter had been foiled and outwitted, 
 a cry of exultation arose the like of which had 
 seldom been heard in New Milford on any Fourth 
 of July since the nation was born. For a brief 
 instant the baffled depredator thought of at- 
 tempting to secure by force the booty which had 
 escaped from his clutch, but a glance showed 
 him that the boys were in no temper to be fur- 
 ther trifled with, and he turned upon Trescott 
 with malignant spite. 
 
 " Keep your fireworks, you cheat !" he yelled. 
 " Give me my lot, if you don't mean to steal them." 
 
276 TRY AGAIN TEESCOTT's WAGER 
 
 " I'm not a cheat nor a thief," replied Trescott. 
 " You all know me pretty well. I always have 
 to try more than once before I can do anything 
 I undertake. Hold out your apple, Jim Potter." 
 
 In his bewilderment the fellow did actually 
 pick up the apple and balance it on his hand as 
 before ; but when he saw the dreadful stick de- 
 scending his small stock of pluck vanished, and he 
 jerked his arm away with such alacrity that the 
 whole crowd hooted at him. After this it would 
 have been useless to bluster. He looked around 
 just once, with a black and scowling face, and 
 then stole away, not a single one of even his own 
 set accompanying him. It was a short and easy 
 job to redistribute the recovered fireworks among 
 the original owners. A few had been used on 
 the previous evening, but these were made good 
 by Trescott from his own ample supply, with a 
 cheerfulness that made him, at least for the time, 
 the most popular boy in that region. Independ- 
 ence Day ran through its course with more than 
 common merriment, and it was long before the 
 lads of New Milford ceased to remember their 
 debt of gratitude to the quick wit and ready 
 resolution of Try Again Trescott. 
 
A FRIEND IN NEED 
 
 ET a bright autumn afternoon in 
 the year 1863, a pleasant-faced 
 and dark-complexioned young 
 gentleman was walking rapid- 
 ly through the principal ave- 
 nue of a small city in western 
 New York. He was hurrying 
 to catch a railway train, but as 
 he passed the open door of a pub- 
 lic hall he saw something which 
 caused him to stop abruptly. A 
 pretty child, apparently- about 
 eight years old, was standing at 
 the entrance looking anxiously up and down the 
 street, and silently crying. 
 
 " What is the matter, little one ?" asked the 
 gentleman, going up the steps towards her. 
 
278 A FKIEND IN NEED 
 
 She turned lier tearful eyes upon him, and 
 made an effort to control her grief. 
 
 "Bessie doesn't come," she answered, in a 
 trembling voice. 
 
 " That is too bad," said the stranger. " Is 
 Bessie ill ?" 
 
 " I don't know ; she doesn't come, and we're 
 'fraid the concert will be spoiled." 
 
 " Bat you mustn't spoil your rosy cheeks for 
 that, my dear. Are you all alone ?" He spoke 
 with a slight foreign accent, but in so gentle and 
 kindly a tone that the child's good-will was im- 
 mediately won. She was about to reply, when 
 two or three older girls came out from the hall, 
 and by involuntary exclamations expressed their 
 surprise at finding her in conversation with an 
 unknown person. 
 
 " Excuse me," he said, nodding his head and 
 smiling. ".I am trying to console this little lady. 
 I can't bear to see young people cry." 
 
 " It is about Bessie," explained the oldest 
 of the children, whose age might have been 
 eleven or twelve. " She has disappointed us 
 terribly." 
 
 " Can you tell me about it ?" inquired the gen- 
 tleman, putting on an appearace of great interest. 
 In fact, he was interested. His fondness for lit- 
 tle folks was well known to many persons and 
 
A FKIEND IN NEED 279 
 
 in many places, and he never seemed better con- 
 tented than in their company. 
 
 " We are going to give a concert," said the 
 leader of the party, after a moment's hesitation, 
 "for the Sanitary Commission. At least, we 
 were going to. But we can't do without Bessie, 
 and this is our last rehearsal." 
 
 "Perhaps she is sick. Can't you rehearse 
 again ?" 
 
 " Oh no ; the concert is for to-night. Bessie 
 plays the second part in the overture and all the 
 other piano pieces." 
 
 " May I ask what the overture is ?" 
 
 " The ' Crown Diamonds.' It's very difficult. 
 Four of us play it on two pianos." 
 
 " I understand. Let us step into the vestibule ; 
 perhaps I may suggest something. I like music 
 very much." 
 
 They all went in, out of sight of persons pass- 
 ing by. The girls were deeply absorbed in their 
 trouble, and gave no thought to the circumstance 
 that they were admitting to their confidence an in- 
 dividual whom none of them had ever before seen. 
 
 " What else have you on your programme ?" 
 he asked. 
 
 " The Pesther Waltzes, and a selection from 
 1 Trovatore,' and the ' Wedding March.' That's 
 the hardest of all." 
 
280 A FEIEND IN NEED 
 
 " And who are the performers ?" 
 
 " I play the first part, Bessie Thornton the 
 second, Charlie Jackson the third, and Winnie 
 Jackson here the fourth." 
 
 " I'm going to try, Florence," said the one who 
 was indicated as Winnie Jackson, with becoming 
 modesty. 
 
 " Then Charlie is to play a piece by himself. 
 He's practising it now inside." 
 
 " And I shall speak ' 'Celsior,' sha'n't I, Flor- 
 ence ?" interposed the little creature whose grief 
 had first attracted the stranger's notice. She 
 had dried her eyes, and was wholly taken up 
 with the new-comer. 
 
 "Yes, Jennie dear — l JSbcelsior,'" responded 
 Florence. " You see, sir, we have been at work 
 for three weeks. We all belong to the same 
 school, and it's entirely our own idea. Mr. Bush 
 lets us have the hall for nothing, and we hope 
 to make ever so much money — twenty -five dol- 
 lars, I guess. The tickets are a quarter of a dol- 
 lar, and all our friends have promised to attend. 
 But, oh dear! what am 1 saying? If Bessie 
 doesn't come everything will go wrong." 
 
 The incident I am relating took place during 
 the heat of the great Civil War, when people of 
 every age all over the Northern States were do- 
 ing their utmost to lessen the hardships of the 
 
A FBIEND IN NEED 281 
 
 Union soldiers. The Sanitary Commission was 
 a favorite object of charity, and scarcely a day 
 passed without the announcement of some pub- 
 lic entertainment, large or small, by professional 
 or amateur performers for the benefit of this im- 
 portant organization. 
 
 "While the band of youthful patriots stood la- 
 menting the danger that threatened their proj- 
 ect, a lad of ten years came running in from the 
 sidewalk. 
 
 " It's no use, girls," he cried. " Bessie has an 
 awful cold and fever, and her mother won't let 
 her stir out. I don't believe she'll be able to 
 come this evening, either." 
 
 A wail of despair broke from the despondent 
 group. 
 
 "But there's a chance that she can join you 
 to-night," said the sympathizing gentleman. 
 
 " That wouldn't do us any good," moaned Mis- 
 tress Florence. " We shouldn't dare to play with- 
 out another rehearsal, and we can't rehearse 
 without Bessie." 
 
 " Why not ?" urged the friend in need. " Come, 
 I see that I have lost my train. I will take Bes- 
 sie's part for you this afternoon, at any rate." 
 
 " Can you ?" exclaimed Florence, much aston- 
 ished at this unexpected proposition. 
 
 " Why, certainly ; I have nothing to do." 
 
282 A FEIEND IN NEED 
 
 " But — I mean — " The little girl became em- 
 barrassed, and could not end the sentence. 
 
 " She means," said Winnie Jackson, coming to 
 her companion's aid — -"she means — please ex- 
 cuse us, but Bessie is a very line player ; the best 
 we have, next to Florence." 
 
 " Oh, well, give me a trial," replied the stran- 
 ger, laughing. " I used to play pretty well when 
 I was your age." 
 
 " I'm sorry if I was rude ; pray forgive me," 
 Florence begged. " It will be so kind if you can 
 — if you will help us." 
 
 " Of course I will." 
 
 " Hooray ! I call that splendid !" shouted the 
 youngster who had brought the bad tidings from 
 Bessie Thornton's house. " Just come out here, 
 Charlie ; a gentleman has volunteered to take 
 Bessie's place at rehearsal. Will you tell me 
 your name, sir ?" 
 
 " You may call me Mr. Moreau." 
 
 A few minutes later Mr. Moreau was seated at 
 Florence's left side, dutifully sustaining his part 
 in an eight-hand arrangement of Auber's lively 
 overture. When this had been gone throus-h 
 twice, the tiny maid Jennie, who had watched 
 the performance with critical solemnity, deliv- 
 ered her mind to the new member of the quartet 
 thus : 
 

 -^leStnR^fld 
 
 a few minutes later mr. moreau was seated at 
 Florence's left side " 
 
A FRIEND IN NEED 283 
 
 "Yery nice. You do play 'most as well as 
 Bessie. Doesn't lie, Flo ?" 
 
 "He plays better, dear," answered Florence. 
 " I think," she added, timidly, " that he isn't do- 
 ing all he can. I'm not sure, but it seems as if 
 he must know more than any of us." 
 
 " 'Cept you, Flo," said the small judge, with 
 decisive emphasis. 
 
 The other pieces were then taken up, and one 
 or two passages which puzzled Florence's fingers 
 in the " "Wedding March " were modified by Mr. 
 Moreau so adroitly that she was able, after fol- 
 lowing his advice, to give all the required effect 
 without getting the notes confused or disturbing 
 the time. 
 
 When the rehearsal was about half over, the 
 inner door of the hall leading from the vestibule 
 was softly pushed open, and a lady entered, so 
 quietly that her presence was not remarked by 
 the busy pianists. She took a few steps towards 
 the stage, stopped suddenly on perceiving the ad- 
 dition to the expected number of its occupants, 
 and stood as if overpowered by amazement. Af- 
 ter gazing intently for some seconds, she cau- 
 tiously withdrew and went into the street, with 
 a peculiar expression of wonderment upon her 
 countenance. 
 
 Mr. Moreau not only acted as Bessie's substi- 
 
284 A FKIEND IN NEED 
 
 tute in the instrumental music, but undertook 
 also the accompaniment to a song that Florence 
 was to sing. He complimented her upon the 
 freshness and sweetness of her voice, and the 
 good taste with which she used it. 
 
 "Ah, Mr. Moreau," she said, simply and ear- 
 nestly, " I never sang it so well before. Almost 
 always I am frightened, but your beautiful ac- 
 companiment makes me feel perfectly safe and 
 sure." 
 
 " Thank you, Miss Florence," he replied. " Peo- 
 ple are not often praised so honestly and sincere- 
 ly as that." 
 
 " I can't say how much we are obliged to you," 
 she continued. "If Bessie will only come to- 
 night we can get through, after all." 
 
 " And if she does not V 
 
 " Oh, it makes me miserable to think of 
 such a thing ! All our trouble will go for 
 nothing." 
 
 " And I can't speak ' 'Celsior,' " piped Jennie, 
 disconsolately. 
 
 "Now, listen to me, my little friends; I am 
 not going to do my work by halves. I will stay 
 in town and come here myself, and if your inva- 
 lid does not appear, you shall have my services 
 and welcome." 
 
 There was a loud outcry of enthusiasm and 
 
A FRIEND IN NEED 285 
 
 delight, and happier faces never were seen than 
 those which were gratefully upturned to the 
 good-natured unknown. 
 
 Just as they were about to separate, the su- 
 perintendent of the hall, Mr. Bush, came along. 
 He gave a queer start on seeing Mr. Moreau, and 
 would have called out to him if he had not been 
 checked by a hasty signal from that gentleman. 
 He waited without speaking until the children 
 had gone, and then said, 
 
 "I thought you were on your way to New 
 York I" 
 
 " So I am," answered Mr. Moreau. " I left by 
 the three o'clock train. Don't contradict me, 
 and don't allow anybody to make the mistake 
 of supposing that I am here." 
 
 " Just as you -like," returned Mr. Bush, chuck- 
 ling. " No one shall hear a word from me." 
 
 II 
 
 Florence Lynwood ran home with her sister 
 in high spirits, eager to relate what had hap- 
 pened, and anxious to secure her mother's ap- 
 proval of the plan to be adopted in case of Bes- 
 sie Thornton's continued illness. 
 
286 A FRIEND' IN NEED 
 
 " Mamma," she cried, " I have something ever 
 so strange to tell you." 
 
 " I know a part of it," said Mrs. Lynwood. 
 " I looked in at the hall this afternoon." 
 
 "Then you saw the strange gentleman?" 
 
 "Yes, for a moment. Did he tell you his 
 name V 
 
 " His name is Morrow," chirped little Jennie, 
 who wished it to be understood that she also had 
 information to impart. 
 
 " Morrow," repeated Mrs. Lynwood. "That is 
 singular." 
 
 " It sounded like that," said Florence. " I 
 think he is a foreigner." She went on to de- 
 scribe him as well as she could, and to give the 
 particulars of his friendly behavior. " And, mam- 
 ma," she concluded, " if Bessie stays at home this 
 evening, he is going to play her part in all the 
 piano pieces." 
 
 " Eeally !" exclaimed her mother, showing 
 much more interest than Florence had expected. 
 "From what I hear, Bessie certainly cannot 
 venture out. You are sure this gentleman will 
 not disappoint you ?" 
 
 " Oh, mamma, he is too kind for that." 
 
 " I hope so. Now, my daughter, you shall hear 
 some good news. You have reckoned upon get- 
 ting twenty-five dollars for the Sanitary Commis- 
 
A FRIEND IN NEED 287 
 
 sion. "Well, your concert shall bring you at least 
 a hundred if you will get together as many school- 
 mates as you can find in half an hour, and bring 
 them here without delay. Don't ask me to ex- 
 plain; I want to write as rapidly as possible. 
 Lose no time, my dear, and come back in thirty 
 minutes." 
 
 Florence was in ecstasy at the brilliant pros- 
 pect held out to her, and started on her errand 
 without a word of inquiry. When she returned, 
 accompanied by ten or twelve juvenile acquaint- 
 ances, her mother was ready with a score of 
 notes, which she now addressed and handed to 
 the children, to be delivered to their parents and 
 neighbors. These epistles were all alike in sub- 
 stance. They briefly stated a certain fact, and 
 requested that the intelligence should be prompt- 
 ly and extensively distributed. "Within the fol- 
 lowing hour the circle of society in which Mrs. 
 Lynwood moved was glowing with an excitement 
 the like of which had seldom been witnessed in 
 that quiet interior city. 
 
288 A FRIEND IN NEED 
 
 III 
 
 At eight o'clock in the evening the hall was 
 crowded with the largest and most distinguished 
 audience ever gathered within its walls. Mr. 
 Moreau arrived in good season, and made his 
 way by a private passage to the room reserved 
 for the performers, just as a final message from 
 Bessie Thornton's parents Avas received, express- 
 ing regret at the sick girl's positive inability to 
 join in the proceedings. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Moreau," said Florence, " what should 
 we have done without you, and how shall I thank 
 you for your goodness ?" 
 
 "How? Easily enough, my dear child. By 
 singing your pretty song as well this evening as 
 you did this afternoon." 
 
 Precisely at the appointed hour Master Jack- 
 son led his sister to her place at the piano and 
 seated himself beside her. They Avere Avarmly 
 Avelcomed ; but Avhen Mr. Moreau appeared Avith 
 Florence Lynwood's hand in his, the applause 
 Avas so overAvhelming that the young girl Avas 
 startled. She Avas quick enough to guess, Iioav- 
 ever, that there must be some stronger cause for 
 
"MASTER JACKSON LED HIS SISTER TO HER PLACE" 
 
 the extraordinary demonstration than the mere 
 entrance of two or three school children. She 
 glanced shyly at her escort, but could see noth- 
 ing in his face that helped to throw light on the 
 situation. 
 
 The concert was a prodigious success from be- 
 ginning to end. The programme was not very 
 long, and was all over at an early hour, notwith- 
 
 19 
 
290 A FRIEND IN NEED 
 
 standing that everything was encored, including 
 Jennie's recitation of " Excelsior," and Florence 
 was recalled three times after her song. Just be- 
 fore the last number was performed, Mr. Bush 
 marched upon the stage and made a bit of a 
 speech. He said he was deputed by the ladies 
 and gentlemen present to declare their gratifica- 
 tion at meeting under such agreeable and novel 
 circumstances the eminent artist to whom they 
 had been so often indebted for the highest enjoy- 
 ment, and to express the hope that he would fa- 
 vor them at the close of the entertainment with 
 an exhibition of his own rare skill and power. 
 Since he had done so much for the youth of the 
 community, he trusted it would not be presump- 
 tuous for the grown-up citizens to ask a boon on 
 their own behalf. 
 
 Mr. Moreau, who had been listening at the 
 side of the stage, now came forward, and was 
 again saluted with fervor. As soon as he could 
 be heard he gracefully acknowledged the greet- 
 ing bestowed upon him, and frankly avowed the 
 pleasure it had given him to co-operate in the 
 worthy entertainment of his young associates. 
 
 " It was my fortune to be born at the South," 
 he said, " but no man can be more devoted to 
 the Union than I, or more ready to contribute 
 his share in relieving the suffering of our sick 
 
A FRIEND IN NEED 291 
 
 and wounded soldiers. When I can do it in 
 such company as this " — and he waved his hand 
 towards the children — "I feel a happiness far 
 different from that which the commonplace suc- 
 cesses of life produce, and which I truly do not 
 know how to describe. My accidental partici- 
 pation in this event will be one of my most 
 charming recollections. As to the request which 
 you have made through Mr. Bush, I should con- 
 sider it an honor to comply without any condi- 
 tions, if I were free to follow my own inclina- 
 tion. But I am here to support the exertions of 
 my young friends on behalf of a noble object, 
 and I am bound on this occasion to do nothing 
 that shall not add to the good result of their en- 
 deavor. They have invited you to an excellent 
 concert, and you have responded liberally. So 
 far the account is even. I must see that it con- 
 tinues so to the end. I shall gladly play for 
 you, but we will, if you please, introduce my 
 music with a good old-fashioned ceremony. We 
 will take up a special contribution to the Sani- 
 tary Commission. If you will allow me, I will 
 go through the aisle at the right, and I shall ask 
 my fellow - artist, Miss Lynwood, to look after 
 the left. Here, Miss Florence, take Mr. Bush's 
 hat, and let me have the privilege of making the 
 first deposit." 
 
292 A FRIEND IN NEED 
 
 He suited tbe action to the word, and draw- 
 ing from bis pocket a coin rarely seen in those 
 days of paper currency — a twenty -dollar gold 
 piece, worth not less than forty or fifty dollars 
 of the money in common use — he held it up to 
 view, probably as a stimulating example to the 
 spectators, and dropped it into the superintend- 
 ent's hat, which he then handed to Florence, 
 and sent her on the round of collection. Bring:- 
 ing his own hat from the anteroom, he started 
 at the opposite side of the hall, laughing and 
 chatting merrily as he passed along the rows of 
 seats. " I am getting on famously," he cried at 
 one point ; " let us see which of us will take the 
 larger sum. Surely you will not be less gener- 
 ous to one of your own daughters than to a vis- 
 itor from afar." Soon after he said, " I shall be 
 astonished if you do not make my hat heavier 
 than the young lady's ; this cit} T has a reputa- 
 tion for hospitality to sustain, and you will not 
 be so selfish as to let a guest fall behind one of 
 your own citizens." The audience, though taken 
 by surprise, was greatly diverted, and not at all 
 slow in partaking of his merry humor. There 
 was no stinginess for him to complain of. When 
 he returned to the stage he carried with him a 
 fraction over one hundred dollars. He would not 
 begin playing till the amount was counted and 
 
A FRIEND IN NEED 293 
 
 reported. Florence was even more successful. 
 She brought up close upon one hundred and 
 twenty dollars. Then it was that she had that 
 lucky inspiration which gained her the name of 
 being the brightest and quickest girl of her age 
 in town. 
 
 " We are just alike," she said. And as he 
 made a sign of dissent, she insisted : " Oh yes, 
 we are. You had no right to put twenty dollars 
 in my hat and nothing in yours. I shall divide 
 your gift, and call it ten dollars for me and ten 
 for you. Then we shall each have one hundred 
 and ten." 
 
 This was the great hit of the evening so 
 far. But the music that followed caused every- 
 thing else to be forgotten, at least for the 
 time. The pianist kept on with unflagging amia- 
 bility and spirit for more than half an hour, 
 and when he rose, at eleven o'clock, the people 
 were hoarse from shouting his name. The chil- 
 dren could not make out the word that every- 
 body was crying, and Florence, bending over 
 from the platform, asked her mother what it 
 was. 
 
 " Is it possible you do not know, my dear V 
 exclaimed Mrs. Ly nwood. " It is the name of the 
 greatest of American pianists." 
 
 " Oh, now I understand ! But you told us," 
 
294 A PATRIOTIC PIANIST 
 
 said Florence, turning to the artist, "that your 
 name was Moreau." 
 
 "And so it is, my child," he answered. "I 
 am Louis Moreau Gottschalk." * 
 
 APPENDIX 
 
 A PATRIOTIC PIANIST 
 
 The most celebrated pianist produced by the 
 United States was a native of New Orleans 
 named Gottschalk, who died, while still quite 
 young, about twenty-five years ago. He was of 
 French descent, and as French was the language 
 of his childhood, he spoke English with an ac- 
 cent which often caused strangers to mistake 
 him for a foreigner. But he was as thorough 
 an American as ever breathed, and was conspic- 
 uously faithful to his country at a time when 
 most men of Southern birth acknowledged no 
 obligation of loyalty, and sought to destroy the 
 great republic by establishing a separate nation 
 for themselves. 
 
 His life, like that of many distinguished musi- 
 
 * See Appendix — "A Patriotic Pianist." 
 
A PATKIOTIC PIANIST 295 
 
 cians, was passed chiefly in travelling about the 
 world and giving concerts. His popularity was 
 remarkable, not only on account of his artistic 
 gifts, but also because of his varied personal at- 
 tractions. The charm of his manner and his re- 
 fined courtesy won him hosts of friends in every 
 place which he visited. But with all his gentle- 
 ness of demeanor, he had an abundance of manly 
 spirit and courage, as those who presumed upon 
 his natural amiability were sure to learn. 
 
 In 1862, when the war of secession was at its 
 height, his public engagements carried him to 
 Canada, where he was less known than in his 
 own land. His first appearance was in a large 
 city, the inhabitants of which had been informed 
 that he came from New Orleans, but were wholly 
 unaware of his strong feeling against slavery or 
 his earnest devotion to the Union. Our Cana- 
 dian neighbors were not, as a rule, well disposed 
 to the Northern cause. Their sympathy was 
 with the States in revolt, and they were not 
 backward in proclaiming the fact. The advent 
 of the famous young Southerner seemed to af- 
 ford them an unusually fine opportunity of 
 avowing their sentiments. Taking it for grant- 
 ed, without inquiry, that he stood with the peo- 
 ple of his State and "section," they made up 
 their minds to pay him what they considered a 
 
296 A PATRIOTIC PIANIST 
 
 very pretty compliment, and at the same time to 
 indulge themselves with a lively demonstration 
 of their fondness for the Confederacy. 
 
 The concert was attended by an immense au- 
 dience, and Gottschalk was greeted with an ar- 
 dor which somewhat surprised him. He had no 
 suspicion that he was regarded as a representa- 
 tive of the rebellion, and it was not until the end 
 of the evening that anything occurred to en- 
 lighten him. As he came forward for the last 
 time, a loud call for " Dixie " went up from the 
 multitude. He looked about in amazement, not 
 understanding at first the meaning of the cry. 
 While he stood irresolute, the demand was loud- 
 ly repeated, and followed by a wild chorus of 
 acclamation for secessionists in general. Pres- 
 ently a diversion was made in favor of "My 
 Maryland," one party clamoring for that stately 
 air, while another continued to shout for the 
 more hilarious ditty. 
 
 It was a trying position for the pianist. He 
 believed that a refusal would give intense irrita- 
 tion at the moment, and would probably endan- 
 ger his entire expedition through the British 
 province. The wayward public is prodigal of 
 bounty and caresses so long as its caprices are 
 humored, but at the least sign of opposition, it 
 is liable to turn upon its idols and rend them. 
 
A PATRIOTIC PIANIST 297 
 
 It was no trifling undertaking for one man to 
 defy the will of this excited throng. Tet his re- 
 solve was taken without an instant's hesitation. 
 Though he felt that by his own act he would 
 bring his tour to an ignominious end, he saw but 
 one course open to him. He waited until the up- 
 roar subsided, and bowing ceremoniously, seated 
 himself at his instrument. For a brief interval 
 all was silence ; then his hands fell upon the 
 keys ; but neither " Dixie " nor " My Maryland " 
 came in response to his touch. "Hail Colum- 
 bia" was the strain that resounded through the 
 hall and fell upon the ears of the astonished 
 Canadians. 
 
 The tumult that immediately ensued deadened 
 the sound of the music, and the performer de- 
 sisted from his labor. Imagining that he was 
 terrified into submission, the audience signified a 
 willingness to give him another chance. There 
 was a lull in the storm, and Gottschalk, after 
 bowing as formally as before, turned once more 
 to his task. This time he chose " Yankee Doo- 
 dle," which was no sooner recognized than a 
 fresh outburst of disapprobation made his efforts 
 again inaudible. 
 
 "It did not matter to me," he said, relating 
 the story afterwards. " I was determined to 
 stay there all night if necessary — unless I was 
 
298 A PATRIOTIC PIANIST 
 
 dragged from the platform — and give them an 
 unmistakable Union melody as often as I could 
 get a hearing. The only thing that worried me 
 was that we had no national song worthy of the 
 name. I could not use ' The Star-spangled Ban- 
 ner,' which is a capital tune, because the music 
 is not American. But though my material was 
 not first-class, I tried to make up for that by 
 good playing. After a while the people grew 
 tired of raging at me, and then they heard me 
 at my best — my very best, I assure you." 
 
 " And how did it end ?" the pianist was asked. 
 
 " Oh, very unexpectedly, and most happily. 
 They had kept ominously still a long time, and 
 I was wondering what mischief was in store, 
 when a man with a big heavy voice suddenly 
 broke out laughing. That settled everything. 
 In less than a minute the whole audience was 
 laughing, too, in the pleasantest possible humor. 
 They began to cheer me as if I had done nothing 
 but what they wanted, and I suppose my inde- 
 pendence made them think better of me than if 
 I had yielded. From that night I was treated 
 in the most friendly way. While I remained in 
 Canada there was no indication that I had given 
 offence by my obstinacy, and pretty soon I found 
 that I was expected to introduce some specimens 
 of genuine Yankee minstrelsy at every concert, 
 
A PATKIOTIC PIANIST 299 
 
 whether the programme promised them or not. 
 I never objected to this, of course ; but it made 
 me wretched that the country I belonged to had 
 no other rallying songs than a few bits of cheap 
 jig music. If I live long enough, I must try my 
 own hand at producing a ' national anthem.' " 
 
 He did not live long enough ; and it is strange 
 to reflect that this brilliant artist, who from the 
 age of fourteen until his earry death enjoyed a 
 renown beyond that of any other American vir- 
 tuoso, is now almost forgotten by the public. A 
 quarter of a century ago he was unrivalled in 
 his vocation, and the first of social favorites. 
 "Wherever he went he endeared himself alike to 
 old and young, yet the rising generation of to- 
 day scarcely knows his name. But his rare and 
 beautiful compositions will long be cherished by 
 musicians. They have the glow of true genius, 
 and works thus inspired possess a lasting claim 
 to respectful remembrance. 
 
 THE END. 
 
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 In South America. In Mexico. 
 
 In the Russian Empire. In Great Britain and 
 On the Congo. Ireland. 
 
 In Australasia. In Northern Europe. 
 
 In Central Europe. 
 
 Copiously Illustrated. Square 8vo, Cloth, Or- 
 namental, $3 oo per Volume, volumes sold 
 separately. 
 
 Hunting Adventures on Land and Sea. Two 
 Volumes. Copiously Illustrated. Square 8vo, Cloth, 
 Ornamental, $250 each. Each volume complete in 
 itself. The volumes sold separately. 
 
 The Young Nimrods in North America. 
 
 The Young Nimrods Around the World. 
 
 Published by HARPER & BROTHERS, New York. 
 
 ny of the above works will be sent by mail, postage prepaid, 
 to any part of the United States, Canada, or Mexico, on receipt 
 of the price. 
 
By CHARLES CARLETON COFFIN. 
 
 These are not books for boys alone, but well-arranged and care- 
 fully prepared histories of war, profusely illustrated, with authen- 
 tic sketches of battle-fields, historic places, and buildings. — 
 Observer, N. Y. 
 
 Mr. Coffin uses abundance of incident ; his style is pictorial 
 and animated ; he takes a sound view of the inner factors of 
 national development and progress , and his pages are plentifully 
 sprinkled with illustrations. — Literary World, Boston 
 
 The Boys of '76. A History of the Battles of the 
 Revolution. 
 
 The Story of Liberty. 
 
 Old Times in the Colonies, 
 
 Building the Nation. Events in the History of 
 the United States from the Revolution to the Be- 
 ginning of the War between the States. 
 
 A HISTORY OF THE REBELLION- 
 Drum-beat of the Nation, 
 
 Marching to Victory. 
 Redeeming the Republic. 
 
 Freedom Triumphant. 
 
 Illustrated. Square 8vo, Cloth, Ornamental, $3 00 
 per volume. 
 
 Life of Abraham Lincoln. Illustrated. Square 8vo, 
 Cloth, Ornamental, $3 00. 
 
 Published by HARPER & BROTHERS, New York. 
 
 ny of the above works will be sent by mail, postage prepaid, 
 to any part of the United States, Canada, or Mexico, on receipt 
 of the price. 
 
BY HOWAKD PYLE. 
 
 THE WONDER CLOCK; or, Four - and - Twenty Marvellous 
 Tales : being One for each Hour of the Day. Written and 
 Illustrated by Howard Pyle. Embellished with Verses by 
 Katharine Pyle. Large 8vo, Ornamental Half Leather, $3 00. 
 
 "The Wonder Clock" is truly a monument to the genius and 
 industry of the author in his line of illustrated tales, and also to 
 the enterprise of the publishers in producing choice children's 
 books. — Brooklyn Eagle. 
 
 The illustrations fit the stories perfectly, and are as fantastic as 
 the warmest lovers of tales of magic can desire. The artist enters 
 so thoroughly into the spirit of the stories that his wonderful draw- 
 ings have an air of reality about them. Some are grotesque, some 
 exquisitely graceful ; all are so spirited, so vigorous, so admirable 
 in design and in the expression of the faces and figures, and so full 
 of action, that it is hard to say which is the best. — Boston Pod. 
 
 THE ROSE OF PARADISE. Being a Detailed Account of certain 
 Adventures that happened to Captain John Mackra, in Connec- 
 tion with the famous Pirate, Edward England, in the Year 1720, 
 off the Island of Juanna, in the Mozambique Channel, writ by 
 himself, and now for the first time published. By Howard 
 Pyle. Illustrated by the Author. Post 8vo, Ornamental Cloth, 
 $1 25. 
 
 One of the most spirited and life-like stories of sea adventure 
 that we ever remember to have read. — N. Y. Mail and Express. 
 
 A charming story with an Old World flavor that no one who 
 picks it up can lay down until it is finished. — St. Louis Republican. 
 
 PEPPER AND SALT ; or, Seasoning for Young Folk. By How- 
 ard Pyle. Superbly illustrated by the Author. 4to, Ornamental 
 Cloth, $2 00. 
 
 A quaint and charming book. . . . Mr. Pyle's wonderful versa- 
 tility is shown in the different kinds of subjects and the various pe- 
 riods he treats, in every gradation of humor, mirth, and sly satire, 
 with now and then a touch of fine sadness. — Critic, N. Y. 
 
 It is beyond compare the quaintest and most entertaining book 
 of the season. It is unique in style, and as unique in its coutents, 
 the very turning over of its leaves being enough to transport one 
 into some unheard-of region of imagination. — Observer, N. Y. 
 
 Published by HARPER & BROTHERS, New York. 
 
 £W~Any of the above icorks sent by mail, postage prepaid, to any part of 
 the United States, Canada, or Mexico, on receipt of the price. 
 

RARE BOOK 
 COLLECTION 
 
 THE LIBRARY OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 AT 
 
 CHAPEL HILL 
 
 Wilmer 
 592