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Dickinson. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + .pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; font-size: smaller; text-align: right;} /* page numbers */ + .sidenote {width: 20%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em; margin-left: 1em; + float: right; clear: right; margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; background: #eeeeee; border: dashed 1px;} + + .bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + .bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + .bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + .br {border-right: solid 2px;} + .bbox {border: solid 2px;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .u {text-decoration: underline;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: super; font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span {display: block; margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of What Answer?, by Anna E. Dickinson + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: What Answer? + +Author: Anna E. Dickinson + +Release Date: March 18, 2005 [EBook #15402] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WHAT ANSWER? *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Josephine Paolucci and the PG Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net. + + + + + + +</pre> + +<h1>WHAT ANSWER?</h1> + + +<h2>Anna E. Dickinson</h2> + +<h5>1868</h5> + +<p> + <a href="#WHAT_ANSWER"><b>WHAT ANSWER?</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_I"><b>CHAPTER I</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_II"><b>CHAPTER II</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_III"><b>CHAPTER III</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_IV"><b>CHAPTER IV</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_V"><b>CHAPTER V</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_VI"><b>CHAPTER VI</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_VII"><b>CHAPTER VII</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_VIII"><b>CHAPTER VIII</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_IX"><b>CHAPTER IX</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_X"><b>CHAPTER X</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XI"><b>CHAPTER XI</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XII"><b>CHAPTER XII</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XIII"><b>CHAPTER XIII</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XIV"><b>CHAPTER XIV</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XV"><b>CHAPTER XV</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XVI"><b>CHAPTER XVI</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XVII"><b>CHAPTER XVII</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII"><b>CHAPTER XVIII</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XIX"><b>CHAPTER XIX</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XX"><b>CHAPTER XX</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXI"><b>CHAPTER XXI</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXII"><b>CHAPTER XXII</b></a><br /> + <a href="#NOTE"><b>NOTE</b></a><br /> +</p> + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="WHAT_ANSWER" id="WHAT_ANSWER"></a>WHAT ANSWER?</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<p> +"<i>In flower of youth and beauty's pride.</i>"<br /> +<br /> +DRYDEN<br /><br /><br /> +</p> + + +<p>A crowded New York street,—Fifth Avenue at +the height of the afternoon; a gallant and brilliant +throng. Looking over the glittering array, the purple and +fine linen, the sweeping robes, the exquisite equipages, the +stately houses; the faces, delicate and refined, proud, self-satisfied, +that gazed out from their windows on the street, +or that glanced from the street to the windows, or at one +another,—looking over all this, being a part of it, one +might well say, "This is existence, and beside it there is +none other. Let us dress, dine, and be merry! Life is good, +and love is sweet, and both shall endure! Let us forget that +hunger and sin, sorrow and self-sacrifice, want, struggle, +and pain, have place in the world." Yet, even with the +words, "poverty, frost-nipped in a summer suit," here and +there hurried by; and once and again through the restless +tide the sorrowful procession of the tomb made way.</p> + +<p>More than one eye was lifted, and many a pleasant +greeting passed between these selected few who filled the +street and a young man who lounged by one of the overlooking +windows; and many a comment was uttered upon +him when the greeting was made:—</p> + +<p>"A most eligible <i>parti</i>!"</p> + +<p>"Handsome as a god!"</p> + +<p>"O, immensely rich, I assure you!"</p> + +<p>"<i>Isn't</i> he a beauty!"</p> + +<p>"Pity he wasn't born poor!"</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"O, because they say he carried off all the honors at +college and law-school, and is altogether overstocked with +brains for a man who has no need to use them."</p> + +<p>"Will he practise?"</p> + +<p>"Doubtful. Why should he?"</p> + +<p>"Ambition, power,—gratify one, gain the other."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense! He'll probably go abroad and travel for a +while, come back, marry, and enjoy life."</p> + +<p>"He does that now, I fancy."</p> + +<p>"Looks so."</p> + +<p>And indeed he did. There was not only vigor and +manly beauty, splendid in its present, but the "possibility of +more to be in the full process of his ripening days,"—a +form alert and elegant, which had not yet all of a man's +muscle and strength; a face delicate, yet strong,—refined, +yet full of latent power; a mass of rippling hair like burnished +gold, flung back on the one side, sweeping low +across brow and cheek on the other; eyes</p> + +<p> +"Of a deep, soft, lucent hue,—<br /> +Eyes too expressive to be blue,<br /> +Too lovely to be gray."<br /> +</p> + +<p>People involuntarily thought of the pink and flower of +chivalry as they looked at him, or imagined, in some indistinct +fashion, that they heard the old songs of Percy and +Douglas, or the later lays of the cavaliers, as they heard his +voice,—a voice that was just now humming one of these +same lays:—</p> + +<p> +"Then mounte! then mounte, brave gallants, all,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And don your helmes amaine;</span><br /> +Death's couriers, Fame and Honor, call<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Us to the field againe."</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>"Stuff!" he cried impatiently, looking wistfully at the +men's faces going by,—"stuff! <i>We</i> look like gallants to ride +a tilt at the world, and die for Honor and Fame,—we!"</p> + +<p>"I thank God, Willie, you are not called upon for any +such sacrifice."</p> + +<p>"Ah, little mother, well you may!" he answered, +smiling, and taking her hand,—"well you may, for I am +afraid I should fall dreadfully short when the time came; +and then how ashamed you'd be of your big boy, who +took his ease at home, with the great drums beating and +the trumpets blowing outside. And yet—I should like to +be tried!"</p> + +<p>"See, mother!" he broke out again,—"see what a life it +is, getting and spending, living handsomely and doing the +proper thing towards society, and all that,—rubbing +through the world in the old hereditary way; though I +needn't growl at it, for I enjoy it enough, and find it a +pleasant enough way, Heaven knows. Lazy idler! enjoying +the sunshine with the rest. Heigh-ho!"</p> + +<p>"You have your profession, Willie. There's work there, +and opportunity sufficient to help others and do for yourself."</p> + +<p>"Ay, and I'll <i>do</i> it! But there is so much that is poor and +mean, and base and tricky, in it all,—so much to disgust +and tire one,—all the time, day after day, for years. Now if +it were only a huge giant that stands in your way, you +could out rapier and have at him at once, and there an +end,—laid out or triumphant. That's worth while!"</p> + +<p>"O youth, eager and beautiful," thought the mother +who listened, "that in this phase is so alike the world +over,—so impatient to do, so ready to brave encounters, so +willing to dare and die! May the doing be faithful, and the +encounters be patiently as well as bravely fought, and the +fancy of heroic death be a reality of noble and earnest life. +God grant it! Amen."</p> + +<p>"Meanwhile," said the gay voice,—"meanwhile it's a +pleasant world; let us enjoy it! and as to do this is within +the compass of a man's wit, therefore will I attempt the +doing."</p> + +<p>While he was talking he had once more come to the +window, and, looking out, fastened his eyes unconsciously +but intently upon the face of a young girl who was slowly +passing by,—unconsciously, yet so intently that, as if suddenly +magnetized, a flicker of feeling went over it; the +mouth, set with a steady sweetness, quivered a little; the +eyes—dark, beautiful eyes—were lifted to his an instant, +that was all. The mother beside him did not see; but she +heard a long breath, almost a sigh, break from him as he +started, then flashed out of the room, snatching his hat in +the hall, and so on to the street, and away.</p> + +<p>Away after her, through block after block, across the +crowded avenue to Broadway. "Who is she? where did she +come from? <i>I</i> never saw her before. I wonder if Mrs. Russell +knows her, or Clara, or anybody! I will know where +she lives, or where she is going at least,—that will be some +clew! There! she is stopping that stage. I'll help her in! no, +I won't,—she will think I am chasing her. Nonsense! do +you suppose she saw you at the window? Of course! No, +she didn't; don't be a fool! There! I'll get into the next +stage. Now I'll keep watch of that, and she'll not know. +So—all right! Go ahead, driver." And happy with some +new happiness, eager, bright, the handsome young fellow +sat watching that other stage, and the stylish little lace +bonnet that was all he could see of his magnet, through the +interminable journey down Broadway.</p> + +<p>How clear the air seemed! and the sun, how splendidly +it shone! and what a glad look was upon all the people's +faces! He felt like breaking out into gay little snatches of +song, and moved his foot to the waltz measure that beat +time in his brain till the irate old gentleman opposite, +whom nature had made of a sour complexion and art +assisted to corns, broke out with an angry exclamation. +That drew his attention for a moment. A slackening of +speed, a halt, and the stage was wedged in one of the inextricable +"jams" on Broadway. Vain the search for <i>her</i> stage +then; looking over the backs of the poor, tired horses, or +from the sidewalk,—here, there, at this one and that +one,—all for naught! Stage and passenger, eyes, little lace +bonnet, and all, had vanished away, as William Surrey confessed, +and confessed with reluctance and discontent.</p> + +<p>"No matter!" he said presently,—"no matter! I shall see +her again. I know it! I feel it! It is written in the book of +the Fates! So now I shall content me with something"—that +looks like her he did not say definitely, but felt it none +the less, as, going over to the flower-basket near by, he +picked out a little nosegay of mignonette and geranium, +with a tea-rosebud in its centre, and pinned it at his +button-hole. "Delicate and fine!" he thought,—"delicate +and fine!" and with the repetition he looked from it down +the long street after the interminable line of stages; and +somehow the faint, sweet perfume, and the fair flower, and +the dainty lace bonnet, were mingled in wild and +charming confusion in his brain, till he shook himself, and +laughed at himself, and quoted Shakespeare to excuse himself,—"A +mad world, my masters!"—seeing this poor old +earth of ours, as people always do, through their own eyes.</p> + +<p>"God bless ye! and long life to yer honor! and may the +blessed Virgin give ye the desire of yer heart!" called the +Irishwoman after him, as he put back the change in her +hand and went gayly up the street. "Sure, he's somebody's +darlint, the beauty! the saints preserve him!" she said, as she +looked from the gold piece in her palm to the fair, sunny +head, watching it till it was lost in the crowd from her +grateful eyes.</p> + +<p>Evidently this young man was a favorite, for, as he +passed along, many a face, worn by business and care, +brightened as he smiled and spoke; many a countenance +stamped with the trade-mark, preoccupied and hard, +relaxed in a kindly recognition as he bowed and went by; +and more than one found time, even in that busy whirl, to +glance for a moment after him, or to remember him with +a pleasant feeling, at least till the pavement had been crossed +on which they met,—a long space at that hour of the day, +and with so much more important matters—Bull and Bear, +rise and fall, stock and account—claiming their attention.</p> + +<p>Evidently a favorite, for, turning off into one of the +side streets, coming into his father's huge foundry, faces +heated and dusty, tired, stained, and smoke-begrimed, +glanced up from their work, from forge and fire and +engine, with an expression that invited a look or word,—and +look and word were both ready.</p> + +<p>"The boss is out, sir," said one of the foremen, "and if +you please, and have got the time to spare, I'd like to have +a word with you before he comes in."</p> + +<p>"All right, Jim! say your say."</p> + +<p>"Well, sir, you'll likely think I'm sticking my nose into +what doesn't concern me. 'Tain't a very nice thing I've got +to say, but if I don't say it I don't know who in thunder +will; and, as it's my private opinion that somebody ought +to, I'll just pitch in."</p> + +<p>"Very good; pitch in."</p> + +<p>"Very good it is then. Only it ain't. Very bad, more +like. It's a nasty mess, and no mistake! and there's the cause +of it!" pointing his brawny hand towards the door, upon +which was marked, "Office. Private," and sniffing as +though he smelt something bad in the air.</p> + +<p>"You don't mean my father!" flame shooting from the +clear eyes.</p> + +<p>"Be damned if I do. Beg pardon. Of course I don't. I +mean the fellow as is perched up on a high stool in that +there office, this very minute, poking into his books."</p> + +<p>"Franklin?"</p> + +<p>"You've hit it. Franklin,—Abe Franklin,—that's the +ticket."</p> + +<p>"What's the matter with him? what has he done?"</p> + +<p>"Done? nothing! not as I know of, anyway, except +what's right and proper. 'Tain't what he's done or's like to +do. It's what he is."</p> + +<p>"And what may that be?"</p> + +<p>"Well, he's a nigger! there's the long and short of it. +Nobody here'd object to his working in this place, providing +he was a runner, or an errand-boy, or anything that +it's right and proper for a nigger to be; but to have him sitting +in that office, writing letters for the boss, and going +over the books, and superintending the accounts of the +fellows, so that he knows just what they get on Saturday +nights, and being as fine as a fiddle, is what the boys won't +stand; and they swear they'll leave, every man of 'em, +unless he has his walking papers,—double-quick too."</p> + +<p>"Very well; let them. There are other workmen, good +as they, in this city of New York."</p> + +<p>"Hold on, sir! let me say my say first. There are seven +hundred men working in this place: the most of 'em have +worked here a long while. Good work, good pay. There +ain't a man of 'em but likes Mr. Surrey, and would be sorry +to lose the place; so, if they won't bear it, there ain't any +that will. Wait a bit! I ain't through yet."</p> + +<p>"Go on,"—quietly enough spoken, but the mouth +shook under its silky fringe, and a fiery spot burned on +either cheek.</p> + +<p>"All right. Well, sir, I know all about Franklin. He's a +bright one, smart enough to stock a lot of us with brains +and have some to spare; he don't interfere with us, and +does his work well, too, I reckon,—though that's neither +here nor there, nor none of our business if the boss is satisfied; +and he looks like a gentleman, and acts like one, +there's no denying that! and as for his skin,—well!" a smile +breaking over his good-looking face, "his skin's quite as +white as mine now, anyway," smearing his red-flannel arm +over his grimy phiz; "but then, sir, it won't rub off. He's a +nigger, and there's no getting round it.</p> + +<p>"All right, sir! give you your chance directly. Don't +speak yet,—ain't through, if <i>you</i> please. Well, sir, it's agen +nature,—you may talk agen it, and work agen it, and fight +agen it till all's blue, and what good'll it do? You can't get +an Irishman, and, what's more, a free-born American citizen, +to put himself on a level with a nigger,—not by no +manner of means. No, sir; you can turn out the whole lot, +and get another after it, and another after that, and so on +to the end of the chapter, and you can't find men among +'em all that'll stay and have him strutting through 'em, up +to his stool and his books, grand as a peacock."</p> + +<p>"Would they work <i>with</i> him?"</p> + +<p>"At the same engines, and the like, do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Nary time, so 'tain't likely they'll work under him. +Now, sir, you see I know what I'm saying, and I'm saying +it to <i>you</i>, Mr. Surrey, and not to your father, because he +won't take a word from me nor nobody else,—and here's +just the case. Now I ain't bullying, you understand, and I +say it because somebody else'd say it, if I didn't, uglier +and rougher. Abe Franklin'll have to go out of this shop +in precious short order, or every man here'll bolt next +Saturday night. There! now I've done, sir, and you can +fire away."</p> + +<p>But as he showed no signs of "firing away," and stood +still, pondering, Jim broke out again:—</p> + +<p>"Beg pardon, sir. If I've said anything you don't like, +sorry for it. It's because Mr. Surrey is so good an employer, +and, if you'll let me say so, because I like you so well," +glancing over him admiringly,—"for, you see, a good +engineer takes to a clean-built machine wherever he sees +it,—it's just because of this I thought it was better to tell +you, and get you to tell the boss, and to save any row; for +I'd hate mortally to have it in this shop where I've worked, +man and boy, so many years. Will you please to speak to +him, sir? and I hope you understand."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Jim. Yes, I understand; and I'll speak to +him."</p> + +<p>Was it that the sun was going down, or that some +clouds were in the sky, or had the air of the shop oppressed +him? Whatever it was, as he came out he walked with a +slower step from which some of the spring had gone, and +the people's faces looked not so happy; and, glancing down +at his rosebud, he saw that its fair petals had been soiled by +the smoke and grime in which he had been standing; and, +while he looked a dead march came solemnly sounding up +the street, and a soldier's funeral went by,—rare enough, in +that autumn of 1860, to draw a curious crowd on either +side; rare enough to make him pause and survey it; and as +the line turned into another street, and the music came +softened to his ear, he once more hummed the words of +the song which had been haunting him all the day:—</p> + +<p> +"Then mounte! then mounte, brave gallants, all,<br /> +And don your helmes amaine;<br /> +Death's couriers, Fame and Honor, call<br /> +Us to the field againe,"—<br /> +</p> + +<p>sang them to himself, but not with the gay, bright spirit of +the morning. Then he seemed to see the cavaliers, brilliant +and brave, riding out to the encounter. Now, in the same +dim and fanciful way, he beheld them stretched, still and +dead, upon the plain.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<p> +"<i>Thou—drugging pain by patience.</i>"<br /> +<br /> +ARNOLD<br /><br /><br /> +</p> + + +<p>"Laces cleaned, and fluting and ruffling done +here,"—that was what the little sign swinging +outside the little green door said. And, coming under it +into the cosey little rooms, you felt this was just the place +in which to leave things soiled and torn, and come back to +find them, by some mysterious process, immaculate and +whole.</p> + +<p>Two rooms, with folding-doors between, in which +through the day stood a counter, cut up on the one side +into divers pigeon-holes rilled with small boxes and bundles, +carefully pinned and labelled,—owner's name, time +left, time to be called for, money due; neat and nice as a +new pin, as every one said who had any dealings there.</p> + +<p>The counter was pushed back now, as always after +seven o'clock, for the people who came in the evening +were few; and then, when that was out of the way, it +seemed more home-like and less shoppy, as Mrs. Franklin +said every night, as she straightened things out, and peered +through the window or looked from the front door, and +wondered if "Abram weren't later than usual," though she +knew right well he was punctual as clock-work,—good +clock-work too,—when he was going to his toil or hurrying +back to his home.</p> + +<p>Pleasant little rooms, with the cleanest and brightest of +rag carpets on the floor; a paper on the walls, cheap +enough, but gay with scarlet rosebuds and green leaves, +rivalled by the vines and berries on the pretty chintz curtains; +chairs of a dozen ages and patterns, but all of them +with open, inviting countenances and a hospitable air; a +wood fire that <i>looked</i> like a wood fire crackling and +sparkling on the hearth, shining and dancing over the +ceiling and the floor and the walls, cutting queer capers +with the big rocking-chair,—which turned into a giant +with long arms,—and with the little figures on the mantel-shelf, +and the books in their cases, softening and glorifying +the two grand faces hanging in their frames opposite, and +giving just light enough below them to let you read "John +Brown" and "Phillips," if you had any occasion to read, and +did not know those whom the world knows; and first and +last, and through all, as if it loved her, and was loath to part +with her for a moment, whether she poked the flame, or +straightened a chair, or went out towards the little kitchen +to lift a lid and smell a most savory stew, or came back to +the supper-table to arrange and rearrange what was already +faultless in its cleanliness and simplicity, wherever she went +and whatever she did, this firelight fell warm about a +woman, large and comfortable and handsome, with a +motherly look to her person, and an expression that was all +kindness in her comely face and dark, soft eyes,—eyes and +face and form, though, that might as well have had +"Pariah" written all over them, and "leper" stamped on +their front, for any good, or beauty, or grace, that people +could find in them; for the comely face was a dark face, +and the voice, singing an old Methodist hymn, was no +Anglo-Saxon treble, but an Anglo-African voice, rich and +mellow, with the touch of pathos or sorrow always heard +in these tones.</p> + +<p>"There!" she said, "there he is!" as a step, hasty yet +halting, was heard on the pavement; and, turning up the +light, she ran quickly to open the door, which, to be sure, +was unfastened, and to give the greeting to her "boy," +which, through many a year, had never been omitted.</p> + +<p><i>Her</i> boy,—you would have known that as soon as you +saw him,—the same eyes, same face, the same kindly look; +but the face was thinner and finer, and the brow was a student's +brow, full of thought and speculation; and, looking +from her hearty, vigorous form, you saw that his was slight +to attenuation.</p> + +<p>"Sit down, sonny, sit down and rest. There! how tired +you look!" bustling round him, smoothing his thin face +and rough hair. "Now don't do that! let your old mother +do it!" It pleased her to call herself old, though she was but +just in her prime. "You've done enough for one day, I'm +sure, waiting on other people, and walking with your poor +lame foot till you're all but beat out. You be quiet now, and +let somebody else wait on you." And, going down on her +knees, she took up the lame foot, and began to unlace the +cork-soled, high-cut shoe, and, drawing it out, you saw +that it was shrunken and small, and that the leg was shorter +than its fellow.</p> + +<p>"Poor little foot!" rubbing it tenderly, smoothing the +stocking over it, and chafing it to bring warmth and life to +its surface. Her "baby," she called it, for it was no bigger +than when he was a little fellow. "Poor, tired foot! ain't it +a dreadful long walk, sonny?"</p> + +<p>"Pretty long, mother; but I'd take twice that to do such +work at the end."</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed, it's good work, and Mr. Surrey's a good +man, and a kind one, that's sure! I only wish some others +had a little of his spirit. Such a shame to have you dragging +all the way up here, when any dirty fellow that wants +to can ride. I don't mind for myself so much, for I can +walk about spry enough yet, and don't thank them for +their old omnibuses nor cars; but it's too bad for you, so it +is,—too bad!"</p> + +<p>"Never mind, mother! keep a brave heart. 'There's a +good time coming soon, a good time coming!' as I heard Mr. +Hutchinson sing the other night,—and it's true as gospel."</p> + +<p>"Maybe it is, sonny!" dubiously, "but I don't see it,—not +a sign of it,—no indeed, not one! It gets worse and +worse all the time, and it takes a deal of faith to hold on; +but the good Lord knows best, and it'll be right after a +while, anyhow! And now <i>that's</i> straight!" pulling a soft +slipper on the lame foot, and putting its mate by his side; +then going off to pour out the tea, and dish up the stew, +and add a touch or two to the appetizing supper-table.</p> + +<p>"It's as good as a feast,"—taking a bite out of her nice +home-made bread,—"better'n a feast, to think of you in +that place; and I can't scarcely realize it yet. It seems too +fine to be true."</p> + +<p>"That's the way I've felt all the month, mother! It has +been just like a dream to me, and I keep thinking surely +I'm asleep and will waken to find this is just an air-castle +I've been building, or 'a vision of the night,' as the good +book says."</p> + +<p>"Well, it's a blessed vision, sure enough! and I hope to +the good Lord it'll last;—but you won't if you make a +vision of your supper in that way. You just eat, Abram! and +have done your talking till you're through, if you can't do +both at once. Talking's good, but eating's better when +you're hungry; and it's my opinion you ought to be +hungry, if you ain't."</p> + +<p>So the teacups were filled and emptied, and the spoons +clattered, and the stew was eaten, and the baked potatoes +devoured, and the bread-and-butter assaulted vigorously, +and general havoc made with the good things and substantial +things before and between them; and then, this +duty faithfully performed, the wreck speedily vanished +away; and cups and forks, spoons and plates, knives and +dishes, cleaned and cupboarded, Mrs. Franklin came, and, +drawing away the book over which he was poring, said, +while she smoothed face and hair once more, "Come, +Abram, what is it?"</p> + +<p>"What's what, mother?" with a little laugh.</p> + +<p>"Something ails you, sonny. That's plain enough. I +know when anything's gone wrong with ye, sure, and +something's gone wrong to-day."</p> + +<p>"O mother! you worry about me too much, indeed +you do. If I'm a little tired or out of sorts,—which I +haven't any right to be, not here,—or quiet, or anything, +you think somebody's been hurting me, or abusing me, or +that everything's gone wrong with me, when I do well +enough all the time."</p> + +<p>"Now, Abram, you can't deceive me,—not that way. +My eyes is mother's eyes, and they see plain enough, where +you're concerned, without spectacles. Who's been putting +on you to-day? Somebody. You don't carry that down +look in your face and your eyes for nothing, I found that +out long ago, and you've got it on to-night."</p> + +<p>"O mother!"</p> + +<p>"Don't you 'O mother' me! I ain't going to be put off +in that way, Abram, an' you needn't think it. Has Mr. +Surrey been saying anything hard to you?"</p> + +<p>"No, indeed, mother; you needn't ask that."</p> + +<p>"Nor none of the foremen?"</p> + +<p>"None."</p> + +<p>"Has Snipe been round?"</p> + +<p>"Hasn't been near the office since Mr. Surrey dismissed +him."</p> + +<p>"Met him anywhere?"</p> + +<p>"Nein!" laughing, "I haven't laid eyes on him."</p> + +<p>"Well, the men have been saying or doing something +then."</p> + +<p>"N-no; why, what an inquisitor it is!"</p> + +<p>"'N-no.' You don't say that full and plain, Abram. +Something <i>has</i> been going wrong with the men. Now +what is it? Come, out with it."</p> + +<p>"Well, mother, if you <i>will</i> know, you will, I suppose; +and, as you never get tired of the story, I'll go over the +whole tale.</p> + +<p>"So long as I was Mr. Surrey's office-boy, to make his +fires, and sweep and dust, and keep things in order, the +men were all good enough to me after their fashion; and if +some of them growled because they thought he favored +me, Mr. Given, or some one said, 'O, you know his +mother was a servant of Mrs. Surrey for no end of years, +and of course Mr. Surrey has a kind of interest in him'; +and that put everything straight again.</p> + +<p>"Well! you know how good Mr. Willie has been to me +ever since we were little boys in the same house,—he in +the parlor and I in the kitchen; the books he's given me, +and the chances he's made me, and the way he's put me in +of learning and knowing. And he's been twice as kind to +me ever since I refused that offer of his."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know, but tell me about it again."</p> + +<p>"Well, Mr. Surrey sent me up to the house one day, +just while Mr. Willie was at home from college, and he +stopped me and had a talk with me, and asked me in his +pleasant way, not as if I were a 'nigger,' but just as he'd talk +to one of his mates, ever so many questions about myself +and my studies and my plans; and I told him what I +wanted,—how hard you worked, and how I hoped to fit +myself to go into some little business of my own, not a +barber-shop, or any such thing, but something that'd support +you and keep you like a lady after while, and that +would help me and my people at the same time. For, of +course," I said, "every one of us that does anything more +than the world expects us to do, or better, makes the world +think so much the more and better of us all."</p> + +<p>"What did he say to that?"</p> + +<p>"I wish you'd seen him! He pushed back that beautiful +hair of his, and his eyes shone, and his mouth trembled, +though I could see he tried hard to hold it still, and put up +his hand to cover it; and he said, in a solemn sort of way, +'Franklin, you've opened a window for me, and I sha'n't +forget what I see through it to-day.' And then he offered to +set me up in some business at once, and urged hard when +I declined."</p> + +<p>"Say it all over again, sonny; what was it you told +him?"</p> + +<p>"I said that would do well enough for a white man; +that he could help, and the white man be helped, just as +people were being and doing all the time, and no one +would think a thought about it. But, sir," I said, "everybody +says we can do nothing alone; that we're a poor, shiftless +set; and it will be just one of the master race helping a +nigger to climb and to stand where he couldn't climb or +stand alone, and I'd rather fight my battle alone."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes! well, go on, go on. I like to hear what followed."</p> + +<p>"Well, there was just a word or two more, and then he +put out his hand and shook mine, and said good by. It was +the first time I ever shook hands with a white <i>gentleman</i>. +Some white hands have shaken mine, but they always +made me feel that they <i>were</i> white and that mine was black, +and that it was a condescension. I felt that, when they +didn't mean I should. But there was nothing between us. I +didn't think of his skin, and, for once in my life, I quite +forgot I was black, and didn't remember it again till I got +out on the street and heard a dirty little ragamuffin cry, 'Hi! +hi! don't that nagur think himself foine?' I suspect, in spite +of my lameness, I had been holding up my head and +walking like a man."</p> + +<p>In spite of his lameness he was holding up his head and +walking like a man now; up and down and across the little +room, trembling, excited, the words rushing in an eager +flow from his mouth. His mother sat quietly rocking herself +and knitting. She knew in this mood there was +nothing to be said to him; and, indeed, what had she to say +save that which would add fuel to the flame?</p> + +<p>"Well!"—a long sigh,—"after that Mr. Surrey doubled +my wages, and was kinder to me than ever, and watched +me, as I saw, quite closely; and that was the way he found +out about Mr. Snipe.</p> + +<p>"You see Mr. Snipe had been very careless about +keeping the books; would come down late in the mornings, +just before Mr. Surrey came in, and go away early in +the afternoons, as soon as he had left. Of course, the books +got behindhand every month, and Mr. Snipe didn't want +to stay and work overhours to make them up. One day he +found out, by something I said, that I understood bookkeeping, +and tried me, and then got me to take them +home at night and go over them. I didn't know then how +bad he was doing, and that I had no business to shield him, +and all went smooth enough till the day I was too sick to +get down to the office, and two of the books were at +home. Then Mr. Surrey discovered the whole thing. +There was a great row, it seems; and Mr. Surrey examined +the books, and found, as he was pleased to say, that I'd kept +them in first-rate style; so he dismissed Mr. Snipe on the +spot, with six months' pay,—for you know he never does +anything by halves,—and put me in his place.</p> + +<p>"The men don't like it, I know, and haven't liked it, +but of course they can't say anything to him, and they +haven't said anything to me; but I've seen all along that +they looked at me with no friendly eyes, and for the last +day or two I've heard a word here and there which makes +me think there's trouble brewing,—bad enough, I'm +afraid; maybe to the losing of my place, though Mr. Surrey +has said nothing about it to me."</p> + +<p>Just here the little green door opened, and the foreman +whom we have before seen—James Given as the register +had him entered, Jim Given as every one knew him—came +in; no longer with grimy face and flannel sleeves, but +brave in all his Sunday finery, and as handsome a b'hoy, +they said, at his engine-house, as any that ran with the +machine; having on his arm a young lady whom he apostrophized +as Sallie, as handsome and brave as he.</p> + +<p>"Evening,"—a nod of the head accompanying. "Miss +Howard's traps done?"</p> + +<p>"I wish you wouldn't say 'traps,' Jim," corrected Sallie, +<i>sotto voce</i>: "it's not proper. It's for a collar and pair of cuffs, +Mrs. Franklin," she added aloud, putting down a little +check.</p> + +<p>"Not proper! goodness gracious me! there spoke +Snipe! Come, Sallie, you've pranced round with that +stuck-up jackanapes till you're getting spoiled entirely, so +you are, and I scarcely know you. Not proper,—O my!"</p> + +<p>"Spoiled, am I? Thank you, sir, for the compliment! +And you don't know me at all,—don't you? Very well, +then I'll say good night, and leave; for it wouldn't be proper +to take a young lady you don't know to the theatre,—now, +would it? Good by!"—making for the door.</p> + +<p>"Now don't, Sallie, please."</p> + +<p>"Don't what?"</p> + +<p>"Don't talk that way."</p> + +<p>"Don't yourself, more like. You're just as cross as cross +can be, and disagreeable, and hateful,—all because I +happen to know there's some other man in the world +besides yourself, and smile at him now and then. 'Don't,' +indeed!"</p> + +<p>"Come, Sallie, you're too hard on a fellow. It's your +own fault, you know well enough, if you will be so handsome. +Now, if you were an ugly old girl, or I was certain +of you, I shouldn't feel so bad, nor act so neither. But +when there's a lot of hungry chaps round, all gaping to +gobble you up, and even poor little Snipes trying to peck +and bite at you, and you won't say 'yes' nor 'no' to me, how +do you expect a man to keep cool? Can't do it, nohow, and +you needn't ask it. Human nature's human nature, I suppose, +and mine ain't a quiet nor a patient one, not by no +manner of means. Come, Sallie, own up; you wouldn't like +me so well as I hope you do if it was,—now, would you?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Franklin smiled, though she had heard not a word +of the lovers' quarrel, as she put a pin in the back of the +ruffled collar which Sallie had come to reclaim. A quarrel +it had evidently been, and as evidently the lady was mollified, +for she said, "Don't be absurd, Jim!" and Jim laughed +and responded, "All right, Sallie, you're an angel! But +come, we must hurry, or the curtain'll be up,"—and away +went the dashing and handsome couple.</p> + +<p>Abram, shutting in the shutters, and fastening the +door, sat down to a quiet evening's reading, while his +mother knitted and sewed,—an evening the likeness of a +thousand others of which they never tired; for this mother +and son, to whom fate had dealt so hard a measure, upon +whom the world had so persistently frowned, were more +to each other than most mothers and sons whose lines had +fallen in pleasanter places,—compensation, as Mr. +Emerson says, being the law of existence the world over.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<p> +"<i>Every one has his day, from which he dates.</i>"<br /> +<br /> +OLD PROVERB<br /><br /><br /> +</p> + + +<p>You see, Surrey, the school is something +extra, and the performances, and it will +please Clara no end; so I thought I'd run over, and inveigled +you into going along for fear it should be stupid, and +I would need some recreation."</p> + +<p>"Which I am to afford?"</p> + +<p>"Verily."</p> + +<p>"As clown or grindstone?—to make laugh, or sharpen +your wits upon?"</p> + +<p>"Far be it from me to dictate. Whichever suits our +character best. On the whole, I think the last would be the +most appropriate; the first I can swear wouldn't!"</p> + +<p>"<i>Pourquoi</i>?"</p> + +<p>"O, a woman's reason,—because!"</p> + +<p>"Because why? Am I cross?"</p> + +<p>"Not exactly."</p> + +<p>"Rough?"</p> + +<p>"As usual,—like a May breeze."</p> + +<p>"Cynical?"</p> + +<p>"As Epicurus."</p> + +<p>"Irritable?"</p> + +<p>"'A countenance [and manner] more in sorrow than in +anger.' Something's wrong with you; who is she?"</p> + +<p>"She!"</p> + +<p>"Ay,—she. That was a wise Eastern king who put at +the bottom of every trouble and mischief a woman."</p> + +<p>"Fine estimate."</p> + +<p>"Correct one. Evidently he had studied the genus +thoroughly, and had a poor opinion of it."</p> + +<p>"No wonder."</p> + +<p>"Amazing! <i>you</i> say 'no wonder'! Astounding words! +speak them again."</p> + +<p>"No wonder,—seeing that he had a mother, and that +she had such a son. He must needs have been a bad fellow +or a fool to have originated so base a philosophy, and how +then could he respect the source of such a stream as himself?"</p> + +<p>"Sir Launcelot,—squire of dames!"</p> + +<p>"Not Sir Launcelot, but squire of dames, I hope."</p> + +<p>"There you go again! Now I shall query once more, +who is she?"</p> + +<p>"No woman."</p> + +<p>"No?"</p> + +<p>"No, though by your smiling you would seem to say +so!"</p> + +<p>"Nay, I believe you, and am vastly relieved in the +believing. Take advice from ten years of superior age, and +fifty of experience, and have naught to do with them. +Dost hear?"</p> + +<p>"I do."</p> + +<p>"And will heed?"</p> + +<p>"Which?—the words or the acts of my counsellor? +who, of a surety, preaches wisely and does foolishly, or +who does wisely and preaches foolishly; for preaching and +practice do not agree."</p> + +<p>"Nay, man, thou art unreasonable; to perform either +well is beyond the capacity of most humans, and I desire +not to be blessed above my betters. Then let my rash deeds +and my prudent words both be teachers unto thee. But if +it be true that no woman is responsible for your grave +countenance this morning, then am I wasting words, and +will return to our muttons. What ails you?"</p> + +<p>"I am belligerent."</p> + +<p>"I see,—that means quarrelsome."</p> + +<p>"And hopeless."</p> + +<p>"Bad,—very! belligerent and hopeless! When you go +into a fight always expect to win; the thought is half the +victory."</p> + +<p>"Suppose you are an atom against the universe?" +"Don't fight, succumb. There's a proverb,—a wise +one,—Napoleon's, 'God is on the side of the strongest battalions.'"</p> + +<p>"A lie,—exploded at Waterloo. There's another proverb, +'One on the side of God is a majority.' How about that?"</p> + +<p>"Transcendental humbug."</p> + +<p>"A truth demonstrated at Wittenberg."</p> + +<p>"Are you aching for the martyr's palm?"</p> + +<p>"I am afraid not. On the whole, I think I'd rather enjoy +life than quarrel with it. But"—with a sudden blaze—"I +feel to-day like fighting the world."</p> + +<p>"Hey, presto! what now, young'un?"</p> + +<p>"I don't wonder you stare"—a little laugh. "I'm talking +like a fool, and, for aught I know, feeling like one, aching +to fight, and knowing that I might as well quarrel with the +winds, or stab that water as it flows by."</p> + +<p>"As with what?"</p> + +<p>"The fellow I've just been getting a good look at."</p> + +<p>"What manner of fellow?"</p> + +<p>"Ignorant, selfish, brutal, devilish."</p> + +<p>"Tremendous! why don't you bind him over to keep +the peace?"</p> + +<p>"Because he is like the judge of old time, neither fears +God nor respects his image,—when his image is carved in +ebony, and not ivory."</p> + +<p>"What do you call this fellow?"</p> + +<p>"Public Opinion."</p> + +<p>"This big fellow is abusing and devouring a poor little +chap, eh? and the chap's black?"</p> + +<p>"True."</p> + +<p>"And sometimes the giant is a gentleman in purple and +fine linen, otherwise broadcloth; and sometimes in hodden +gray, otherwise homespun or slop-shop; and sometimes he +cuts the poor little chap with a silver knife, which is +rhetoric, and sometimes with a wooden spoon, which is +raw-hide. Am I stating it all correctly?"</p> + +<p>"All correctly."</p> + +<p>"And you've been watching this operation when you +had better have been minding your own business, and getting +excited when you had better have kept cool, and now +want to rush into the fight, drums beating and colors +flying, to the rescue of the small one. Don't deny it,—it's +all written out in your eyes."</p> + +<p>"I sha'n't deny it, except about the business and the +keeping cool. It's any gentleman's business to interfere +between a bully and a weakling that he's abusing; and his +blood must be water that does not boil while he 'watches +the operation' as you say, and goes in."</p> + +<p>"To get well pommelled for his pains, and do no good +to any one, himself included. Let the weakling alone. A +fellow that can't save himself is not worth saving. If he +can't swim nor walk, let him drop under or go to the wall; +that's my theory."</p> + +<p>"Anglo-Saxon theory—and practice."</p> + +<p>"Good theory, excellent practice,—in the main. What +special phase of it has been disturbing your equanimity?"</p> + +<p>"You know the Franklins?"</p> + +<p>"Of course: Aunt Mina's son—what's his name?—is a +sort of <i>protégé</i> of yours, I believe: what of him?"</p> + +<p>"He is cleanly?"</p> + +<p>"A nice question. Doubtless."</p> + +<p>"Respectable?"</p> + +<p>"What are you driving at?"</p> + +<p>"Intelligent?"</p> + +<p>"Most true."</p> + +<p>"Ambitious?"</p> + +<p>"Or his looks belie him."</p> + +<p>"Faithful, trusty, active, helpful, in every way devoted +to my father's service and his work."</p> + +<p>"With Sancho, I believe it all because your worship +says so."</p> + +<p>"Well, this man has just been discharged from my +father's employ because seven hundred and forty-two +other men gave notice to quit if he remained."</p> + +<p>"The reason?"</p> + +<p>"His skin."</p> + +<p>"The reason is not 'so deep as a well, nor so wide as a +church-door, but it is enough.' Of course they wouldn't +work with him, and my uncle Surrey, begging your +pardon, should not have attempted anything so Quixotic."</p> + +<p>"His skin covering so many excellent qualities, and +these qualities gaining recognition,—that was the cause. +They worked with him so long as he was a servant of servants: +so soon as he demonstrated that he could strike out +strongly and swim, they knocked him under; and, proving +that he could walk alone, they ran hastily to shove him to +the wall."</p> + +<p>"What! quoting my own words against me?"</p> + +<p>"Anglo-Saxon says we are the masters: we monopolize +the strength and courage, the beauty, intelligence, power. +These creatures,—what are they? poor, worthless, lazy, +ignorant, good for nothing but to be used as machines, to +obey. When lo! one of these dumb machines suddenly +starts forth with a man's face; this creature no longer obeys, +but evinces a right to command; and Anglo-Saxon +speedily breaks him in pieces."</p> + +<p>"Come, Willie, I hope you're not going to assert these +people our equals,—that would be too much."</p> + +<p>"They have no intelligence, Anglo-Saxon declares,—then +refuses them schools, while he takes of their money +to help educate his own sons. They have no ambition,—then +closes upon them every door of honorable advancement, +and cries through the key-hole, Serve, or starve. +They cannot stand alone, they have no faculty for rising,—then, +if one of them finds foothold, the ground is undermined +beneath him. If a head is seen above the crowd, the +ladder is jerked away, and he is trampled into the dust +where he is fallen. If he stays in the position to which +Anglo-Saxon assigns him, he is a worthless nigger; if he +protests against it, he is an insolent nigger; if he rises above +it, he is a nigger not to be tolerated at all,—to be crushed +and buried speedily."</p> + +<p>"Now, Willie, 'no more of this, an thou lovest me.' I +came not out to-day to listen to an abolition harangue, nor +a moral homily, but to have a good time, to be civil and +merry withal, if you will allow it. Of course you don't like +Franklin's discharge, and of course you have done something +to compensate him. I know—you have found him +another place. No,—you couldn't do that?</p> + +<p>"No, I couldn't."</p> + +<p>"Well, you've settled him somewhere,—confess."</p> + +<p>"He has some work for the present; some copying for +me, and translating, for this unfortunate is a scholar, you +know."</p> + +<p>"Very good; then let it rest. Granted the poor devils +have a bad time of it, you're not bound to sacrifice yourself +for them. If you go on at this pace, you'll bring up +with the long-haired, bloomer reformers, and then—God +help you. No, you needn't say another word,—I sha'n't +listen,—not one; so. Here we are! school yonder,—well +situated?"</p> + +<p>"Capitally."</p> + +<p>"Fine day."</p> + +<p>"Very."</p> + +<p>"Clara will be charmed to see you."</p> + +<p>"You flatter me. I hope so."</p> + +<p>"There, now you talk rationally. Don't relapse. We will +go up and hear the pretty creatures read their little pieces, +and sing their little songs, and see them take their nice +blue-ribboned diplomas, and fall in love with their dear +little faces, and flirt a bit this evening, and to-morrow I +shall take Ma'm'selle Clara home to Mamma Russell, and +you may go your ways."</p> + +<p>"The programme is satisfactory."</p> + +<p>"Good. Come on then."</p> + +<p>All Commencement days, at college or young ladies' +school, if not twin brothers and sisters, are at least first +cousins, with a strong family likeness. Who that has passed +through one, or witnessed one, needs any description +thereof to furbish up its memories. This of Professor +Hale's belonged to the great tribe, and its form and features +were of the old established type. The young ladies were +charming; plenty of white gowns, plenty of flowers, plenty +of smiles, blushes, tremors, hopes, and fears; little songs, +little pieces, little addresses, to be sung, to be played, to be +read, just as Tom Russell had foreshadowed, and proving +to be—</p> + +<p>"Just the least of a bore!" as he added after listening +awhile; "don't you think so, Surrey?"</p> + +<p>"Hush! don't talk."</p> + +<p>Tom stared; then followed his cousin's eye, fixed +immovably upon one little spot on the platform. "By +Jove!" he cried, "what a beauty! As Father Dryden would +say, 'this is the porcelain clay of humankind.' No wonder +you look. Who is she,—do you know?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"No! short, clear, and decisive. Don't devour her, Will. +Remember the sermon I preached you an hour ago. +Come, look at this,"—thrusting a programme into his +face,—"and stop staring. Why, boy, she has bewitched +you,—or inspired you,"—surveying him sharply.</p> + +<p>And indeed it would seem so. Eyes, mouth, face, +instinct with some subtle and thrilling emotion. As gay +Tom Russell looked, he involuntarily stretched out his +hand, as one would put it between another and some +danger of which that other is unaware, and remembered +what he had once said in talking of him,—"If Will +Surrey's time does come, I hope the girl will be all right in +every way, for he'll plunge headlong, and love like distraction +itself,—no half-way; it will be a life-and-death affair +for him." "Come, I must break in on this."</p> + +<p>"Surrey!"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"There's a pretty girl."</p> + +<p>No answer.</p> + +<p>"There! over yonder. Third seat, second row. See her? +Pretty?"</p> + +<p>"Very pretty."</p> + +<p>"Miss—Miss—what's her name? O, Miss Perry played +that last thing very well for a school-girl, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Very well."</p> + +<p>"Admirable room this, for hearing; rare quality with +chapels and halls; architects in planning generally tax ingenuity +how to confuse sound. Now these girls don't make +a great noise, yet you can distinguish every word,—can't +you?"</p> + +<p>No response.</p> + +<p>"I say, can't you?"</p> + +<p>"Every word."</p> + +<p>Tom drew a long breath.</p> + +<p>"Professor Hale's a sensible old fellow; I like the way he +conducts this school." (Mem. Tom didn't know a thing +about it.) "Carries it on excellently." A pause.</p> + +<p>Silence.</p> + +<p>"Fine-looking, too. A man's physique has a deal to do +with his success in the world. If he carries a letter of recommendation +in his face, people take him on trust to +begin with; and if he's a big fellow, like the Professor +yonder, he imposes on folks awfully; they pop down on +their knees to him, and clear the track for him, as if he had +a right to it all. Bless me! I never thought of that before,—it's +the reason you and I have got on so swimmingly,—is it +not, now? Certainly. You think so? Of course."</p> + +<p>"Of course,"—sedately and gravely spoken.</p> + +<p>Tom groaned, for, with a face kind and bright, he was +yet no beauty; while if Surrey had one crowning gift in +this day of fast youths and self-satisfied Young America, it +was that of modesty with regard to himself and any gifts +and graces nature had blessed him withal.</p> + +<p>"Clara has a nice voice."</p> + +<p>"Very nice."</p> + +<p>"She is to sing, do you know?"</p> + +<p>"I know."</p> + +<p>"Do you know when?"</p> + +<p>No reply.</p> + +<p>"She sings the next piece. Are you ready to listen?"</p> + +<p>"Ready."</p> + +<p>"Good Lord!" cried Tom, in despair, "the fellow has lost +his wits. He has turned parrot; he has done nothing but +repeat my words for me since he sat here. He's an echo."</p> + +<p>"Echo of nothingness?" queried the parrot, smilingly.</p> + +<p>"Ah, you've come to yourself, have you? Capital! now +stay awake. There's Clara to sing directly, and you are to +cheer her, and look as if you enjoyed it, and throw her that +bouquet when I tell you, and let her think it's a fine thing +she has been doing; for this is a tremendous affair to her, +poor child, of course."</p> + +<p>"How bright and happy she is! You will laugh at me, +Tom, and indeed I don't know what has come over me, +but somehow I feel quite sad, looking at those girls, and +wondering what fate and time have in store for them."</p> + +<p>"Sunshine and bright hours."</p> + +<p>"The day cometh, and also the night,"—broke in the +clear voice that was reading a selection from the Scriptures.</p> + +<p>Tom started, and Willie took from his button-hole just +such a little nosegay as that he had bought on Broadway a +fortnight before,—a geranium leaf, a bit of mignonette, +and a delicate tea-rosebud, and, seeing it was drooping, +laid it carefully upon the programme on his knee. "I don't +want that to fade," he thought as he put it down, while he +looked across the platform at the same face which he had +so eagerly pursued through a labyrinth of carriages, stages, +and people, and lost at last.</p> + +<p>"There! Clara is talking to your beauty. I wonder if she +is to sing, or do anything. If she does, it will be something +dainty and fine, I'll wager. Helloa! there's Clara up,—now +for it."</p> + +<p>Clara's bright little voice suited her bright little face,—like +her brother's, only a great deal prettier,—and the +young men enjoyed both, aside from brotherly and +cousinly feeling, cheered her "to the echo" as Willie said, +threw their bouquets,—great, gorgeous things they had +brought from the city to please her,—and wished there was +more of it all when it was through.</p> + +<p>"What next?" said Willie.</p> + +<p>"Heaven preserve us! your favorite subject. Who +would expect to tumble on such a theme here?—'Slavery; +by Francesca Ercildoune.' Odd name,—and, by Jove! it's +the beauty herself."</p> + +<p>They both leaned forward eagerly as she came from +her seat; slender, shapely, every fibre fine and exquisite, no +coarse graining from the dainty head to the dainty foot; the +face, clear olive, delicate and beautiful,—</p> + +<p> +"The mouth with steady sweetness set,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And eyes conveying unaware</span><br /> +The distant hint of some regret<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That harbored there,"—</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>eyes deep, tender, and pathetic.</p> + +<p>"What's this?" said Tom. "Queer. It gives me a +heartache to look at her."</p> + +<p>"A woman for whom to fight the world, or lose the +world, and be compensated a million-fold if you died at +her feet," thought Surrey, and said nothing.</p> + +<p>"What a strange subject for her to select!" broke in +Tom.</p> + +<p>It was a strange one for the time and place, and she had +been besought to drop it, and take another; but it should +be that or nothing, she asserted,—so she was left to her +own device.</p> + +<p>Oddly treated, too. Tom thought it would be a pretty +lady-like essay, and said so; then sat astounded at what he +saw and heard. Her face—this schoolgirl's face—grew +pallid, her eyes mournful, her voice and manner sublime, +as she summoned this Monster to the bar of God's justice +and the humanity of the world; as she arraigned it; as she +brought witness after witness to testify against it; as she +proved its horrible atrocities and monstrous barbarities; as +she went on to the close, and, lifting hand and face and +voice together, thrilled out, "I look backward into the +dim, distant past, but it is one night of oppression and +despair; I turn to the present, but I hear naught save the +mother's broken-hearted shriek, the infant's wail, the +groan wrung from the strong man in agony; I look forward +into the future, but the night grows darker, the shadows +deeper and longer, the tempest wilder, and involuntarily I +cry out, 'How long, O God, how long?'"</p> + +<p>"Heavens! what an actress she would make!" said +somebody before them.</p> + +<p>"That's genius," said somebody behind them; "but +what a subject to waste it upon!"</p> + +<p>"Very bad taste, I must say, to talk about such a thing +here," said somebody beside them. "However, one can +excuse a great deal to beauty like that."</p> + +<p>Surrey sat still, and felt as though he were on fire, filled +with an insane desire to seize her in one arm like a knight +of old, and hew his way through these beings, and out of +this place, into some solitary spot where he could seat her +and kneel at her feet, and die there if she refused to take +him up; filled with all the sweet, extravagant, delicious pain +that thrills the heart, full of passion and purity, of a young +man who begins to love the first, overwhelming, only love +of a lifetime.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<p> +"<i>'Tis an old tale, and often told.</i>"<br /> +<br /> +SIR WALTER SCOTT<br /><br /><br /> +</p> + + +<p>That evening some people who were near them +were talking about it, and that made Tom ask +Clara if her friend was in the habit of doing startling +things.</p> + +<p>"Should you think so to look at her now?" queried +Clara, looking across the room to where Miss Ercildoune +stood.</p> + +<p>"Indeed I shouldn't," Tom replied; and indeed no one +would who saw her then. "She's as sweet as a sugar-plum," +he added, as he continued to look. "What does she mean +by getting off such rampant discourses? She never wrote +them herself,—don't tell <i>me</i>; at least somebody else put her +up to it,—that strong-minded-looking teacher over +yonder, for instance. <i>She</i> looks capable of anything, and +something worse, in the denouncing way; poor little +beauty was her cat's-paw this morning."</p> + +<p>"O Tom, how you talk! She is nobody's cat's-paw. I +can tell you she does her own thinking and acting too. If +you'd just go and do something hateful, or impose on +somebody,—one of the waiters, for instance,—you'd see +her blaze up, fast enough."</p> + +<p>"Ah! philanthropic?"</p> + +<p>Clara looked puzzled. "I don't know; we have some +girls here who are all the time talking about benevolence, +and charity, and the like, and they have a little sewing-circle +to make up things to be sold for the church mission, +or something,—I don't know just what; but Francesca +won't go near it."</p> + +<p>"Democratic, then, maybe."</p> + +<p>"No, she isn't, not a bit. She's a thorough little aristocrat: +so exclusive she has nothing to say to the most of us. +I wonder she ever took me for a friend, though I do love +her dearly."</p> + +<p>Tom looked down at his bright little sister, and thought +the wonder was not a very great one, but didn't say so; +reserving his gallantries for somebody else's sister.</p> + +<p>"You seem greatly taken with her, Tom."</p> + +<p>"I own the soft impeachment."</p> + +<p>"Well, you'll have a fair chance, for she's coming home +with me. I wrote to mamma, and she says, bring her by all +means,—and Mr. Ercildoune gives his consent; so it is all +settled."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Ercildoune! is there no Mrs. E.?"</p> + +<p>"None,—her mother died long ago; and her father has +not been here, so I can't tell you anything about him. +There: do you see that elegant-looking lady talking with +Professor Hale? that is her aunt, Mrs. Lancaster. She is +English, and is here only on a visit. She wants to take +Francesca home with her in the spring, but I hope she +won't."</p> + +<p>"Why, what is it to you?"</p> + +<p>"I am afraid she will stay, and then I shall never see her +any more."</p> + +<p>"And why stay? do you fancy England so very fascinating?"</p> + +<p>"No, it is not that; but Francesca don't like America; +she's forever saying something witty and sharp about our +'democratic institutions,' as she calls them; and, if you had +looked this morning, you'd have seen that she didn't sing +The Star-Spangled Banner with the rest of us. Her voice +is splendid, and Professor Hale wanted her to lead, as she +often does, but she wouldn't sing that, she said,—no, not +for anything; and though we all begged, she refused,—flat."</p> + +<p>"Shocking! what total depravity! I wonder is she converting +Surrey to her heresies."</p> + +<p>No, she wasn't; not unless silence is more potent than +words; for after they had danced together Surrey brought +her to one of the great windows facing towards the sea, +and, leaning over her chair, there was stillness between +them as their eyes went out into the night.</p> + +<p>A wild night! great clouds drifted across the moon, +which shone out anon, with light intensified, defining the +stripped trees and desolate landscape, and then the beach, +and</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"Marked with spray</span><br /> +The sunken reefs, and far away<br /> +The unquiet, bright Atlantic plain,"<br /> +</p> + +<p>while through all sounded incessantly the mournful roar of +buffeting wind and surging tide; and whether it was the +scene, or the solemn undertone of the sea, the dance +music, which a little while before had been so gay, +sounded like a wail.</p> + +<p>How could it be otherwise? Passion is akin to pain. +Love never yet penetrated an intense nature and made the +heart light; sentiment has its smiles, its blushes, its brightness, +its words of fancy and feeling, readily and at will; but +when the internal sub-soiling is broken up, the heart swells +with a steady and tremendous pressure till the breast feels +like bursting; the lips are dumb, or open only to speak +upon indifferent themes. Flowers may be played with, but +one never yet cared to toy with flame.</p> + +<p>There are souls that are created for one another in the +eternities, hearts that are predestined each to each, from +the absolute necessities of their nature; and when this man +and this woman come face to face, these hearts throb and +are one; these souls recognize "my master!" "my mistress!" +at the first glance, without words uttered or vows +pronounced.</p> + +<p>These two young lives, so fresh, so beautiful; these +beings, in many things such antipodes, so utterly dissimilar +in person, so unlike, yet like; their whole acquaintance a +glance on a crowded street and these few hours of +meeting,—looked into one another's eyes, and felt their +whole nature set each to each, as the vast tide "of the +bright, rocking ocean sets to shore at the full moon."</p> + +<p>These things are possible. Friendship is excellent, and +friendship may be called love; but it is not love. It may be +more enduring and placidly satisfying in the end; it may be +better, and wiser, and more prudent, for acquaintance to +beget esteem, and esteem regard, and regard affection, and +affection an interchange of peaceful vows: the result, a +well-ordered life and home. All this is admirable, no +doubt; an owl is a bird when you can get no other; but the +love born of a moment, yet born of eternity, which comes +but once in a lifetime, and to not one in a thousand lives, +unquestioning, unthinking, investigating nothing, proving +nothing, sufficient unto itself,—ah, that is divine; and this +divine ecstasy filled these two souls.</p> + +<p>Unconsciously. They did not define nor comprehend. +They listened to the sea where they sat, and felt tears start +to their eyes, yet knew not why. They were silent, and +thought they talked; or spoke, and said nothing. They +danced; and as he held her hand and uttered a few words, +almost whispered, the words sounded to the listening ear +like a part of the music to which they kept time. They saw +a multitude of people, and exchanged the compliments of +the evening, yet these people made no more impression +upon their thoughts than gossamer would have made upon +their hands.</p> + +<p>"Come, Francesca!" said Clara Russell, breaking in upon +this, "it is not fair for you to monopolize my cousin Will, +who is the handsomest man in the room; and it isn't fair for +Will to keep you all to himself in this fashion. Here is Tom, +ready to scratch out his eyes with vexation because you won't +dance with him; and here am I, dying to waltz with somebody +who knows my step,—to say nothing of innumerable +young ladies and gentlemen who have been casting indignant +and beseeching glances this way: so, sir, face about, march!" +and away the gay girl went with her prize, leaving Francesca +to the tender mercies of half a dozen young men who +crowded eagerly round her, and from whom Tom carried +her off with triumph and rejoicing.</p> + +<p>The evening was over at last, and they were going +away. Tom had said good night.</p> + +<p>"You are to be in New York, at my uncle's, Clara tells +me."</p> + +<p>"It is true."</p> + +<p>"I may see you there?"</p> + +<p>For answer she put out her hand. He took it as he +would have taken a delicate flower, laid his other hand +softly, yet closely, over it, and, without any adieu spoken, +went away.</p> + +<p>"Tom always declared Willie was a little queer, and I'm +sure I begin to think so," said Clara, as she kissed her friend +and departed to her room.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<p> +"<i>A breathing sigh, a sigh for answer,<br /> +A little talking of outward things.</i>"<br /> +<br /> +JEAN INGELOW<br /><br /><br /> +</p> + + +<p>Ah, the weeks that followed! People ate and drank +and slept, lived and loved and hated, were born +and died,—the same world that it had been a little while +before, yet not the same to them,—never to seem quite the +same again. A little cloud had fallen between them and it, +and changed to their eyes all its proportions and hues.</p> + +<p>They were incessantly together, riding, or driving, or +walking, looking at pictures, dancing at parties, listening to +opera or play.</p> + +<p>"It seems to me Will is going it at a pretty tremendous +pace somewhere," said Mr. Surrey to his wife, one +morning, after this had endured for a space. "It would be +well to look into it, and to know something of this girl."</p> + +<p>"You are right," she replied. "Yet I have such absolute +faith in Willie's fine taste and sense that I feel no anxiety."</p> + +<p>"Nor I; yet I shall investigate a bit to-night at Augusta's."</p> + +<p>"Clara tells me that when Miss Ercildoune understood +it was to be a great party, she insisted on ending her visit, +or, at least, staying for a while with her aunt, but they +would not hear of it."</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Lancaster goes back to England soon?"</p> + +<p>"Very soon."</p> + +<p>"Does any one know aught of Miss Ercildoune's +family save that Mrs. Lancaster is her aunt?"</p> + +<p>"If 'any one' means me, I understand her father to be +a gentleman of elegant leisure,—his home near Philadelphia; +a widower, with one other child,—a son, I believe; +that his wife was English, married abroad; that Mrs. Lancaster +comes here with the best of letters, and, for herself, +is most evidently a lady."</p> + +<p>"Good. Now I shall take a survey of the young lady +herself."</p> + +<p>When night came, and with it a crowd to Mrs. Russell's +rooms, the opportunity offered for the survey, and it +was made scrutinizingly. Surrey was an only son, a well-beloved +one, and what concerned him was investigated +with utmost care.</p> + +<p>Scrutinizingly and satisfactorily. They were dancing, +his sunny head bent till it almost touched the silky blackness +of her hair. "Saxon and Norman," said somebody near +who was watching them; "what a delicious contrast!"</p> + +<p>"They make an exquisite picture," thought the mother, +as she looked with delight and dread: delight at the beauty; +dread that fills the soul of any mother when she feels that +she no longer holds her boy,—that his life has another +keeper,—and queries, "What of the keeper?"</p> + +<p>"Well?" she said, looking up at her husband.</p> + +<p>"Well," he answered, with a tone that meant, well. +"She's thorough-bred. Democratic or not, I will always +insist, blood tells. Look at her: no one needs to ask <i>who</i> she +is. I'd take her on trust without a word."</p> + +<p>"So, then, you are not her critic, but her admirer."</p> + +<p>"Ah, my dear, criticism is lost in admiration, and I am +glad to find it so."</p> + +<p>"And I. Willie saw with our eyes, as a boy; it is fortunate +that we can see with his eyes, as a man."</p> + +<p>So, without any words spoken, after that night, both +Mr. and Mrs. Surrey took this young girl into their hearts +as they hoped soon to take her into their lives, and called +her "daughter" in their thought, as a pleasant preparation +for the uttered word by and by.</p> + +<p>Thus the weeks fled. No word had passed between +these two to which the world might not have listened. +Whatever language their hearts and their eyes spoke had +not been interpreted by their lips. He had not yet touched +her hand save as it met his, gloved or formal, or as it rested +on his arm; and yet, as one walking through the dusk and +stillness of a summer night feels a flower or falling leaf +brush his check, and starts, shivering as from the touch of +a disembodied soul, so this slight outward touch thrilled +his inmost being; this hand, meeting his for an instant, +shook his soul.</p> + +<p>Indefinite and undefined,—there was no thought +beyond the moment; no wish to take this young girl into +his arms and to call her "wife" had shaped itself in his +brain. It was enough for both that they were in one +another's presence, that they breathed the same air, that +they could see each other as they raised their eyes, and +exchange a word, a look, a smile. Whatever storm of emotion +the future might hold for them was not manifest in +this sunny and delightful present.</p> + +<p>Upon one subject alone did they disagree with +feeling,—in other matters their very dissimilarity proving +an added charm. This was a curious question to come +between lovers. All his life Surrey had been a devotee of +his country and its flag. While he was a boy Kossuth had +come to these shores, and he yet remembered how he had +cheered himself hoarse with pride and delight, as the eloquent +voice and impassioned lips of the great Magyar +sounded the praise of America, as the "refuge of the +oppressed and the hope of the world." He yet remembered +how when the hand, every gesture of which was instinct +with power, was lifted to the flag,—the flag, stainless, spotless, +without blemish or flaw; the flag which was "fair as +the sun, clear as the moon," and to the oppressors of the +earth "terrible as an army with banners,"—he yet remembered +how, as this emblem of liberty was thus apostrophized +and saluted, the tears had rushed to his boyish eyes, +and his voice had said, for his heart, "Thank God, I am an +American!"</p> + +<p>One day he made some such remark to her. She +answered, "I, too, am an American, but I do not thank +God for it."</p> + +<p>At another time he said, as some emigrants passed +them in the street, "What a sense of pride it gives one in +one's country, to see her so stretch out her arms to help +and embrace the outcast and suffering of the whole +world!"</p> + +<p>She smiled—bitterly, he thought; and replied, "O just +and magnanimous country, to feed and clothe the stranger +from without, while she outrages and destroys her children +within!"</p> + +<p>"You do not love America," he said.</p> + +<p>"I do not love America," she responded.</p> + +<p>"And yet it is a wonderful country."</p> + +<p>"Ay," briefly, almost satirically, "a wonderful country, +indeed!"</p> + +<p>"Still you stay here, live here."</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is my country. Whatever I think of it, I will +not be driven away from it; it is my right to remain."</p> + +<p>"Her right to remain?" he thought; "what does she +mean by that? she speaks as though conscience were +involved in the thing. No matter; let us talk of something +pleasanter."</p> + +<p>One day she gave him a clew. They were looking at +the picture of a great statesman,—a man as famous for the +grandeur of face and form as for the power and splendor +of his intellect.</p> + +<p>"Unequalled! unapproachable!" exclaimed Surrey, at last.</p> + +<p>"I have seen its equal," she answered, very quietly, yet +with a shiver of excitement in the tones.</p> + +<p>"When? where? how? I will take a journey to look at +him. Who is he? where did he grow?"</p> + +<p>For response she put her hand into the pocket of her +gown, and took out a velvet case. What could there be in +that little blue thing to cause such emotion? As Surrey saw +it in her hand, he grew hot, then cold, then fiery hot +again. In an instant by this chill, this heat, this pain, his +heart was laid bare to his own inspection. In an instant he +knew that his arms would be empty did they hold a universe +in which Francesca Ercildoune had no part, and that +with her head on his heart the world might lapse from him +unheeded; and, with this knowledge, she held tenderly and +caressingly, as he saw, another man's picture in her hand.</p> + +<p>His own so shook that he could scarcely take the case +from her, to open it; but, opened, his eyes devoured what +was under them.</p> + +<p>A half-length,—the face and physique superb. Of what +color were the hair and eyes the neutral tints of the picture +gave no hint; the brow princely, breaking the perfect oval +of the face; eyes piercing and full; the features rounded, yet +clearly cut; the mouth with a curious combination of sadness +and disdain. The face was not young, yet it was so +instinct with magnificent vitality that even the picture +impressed one more powerfully than most living men, and +one involuntarily exclaimed on beholding it, "This man +can never grow old, and death must here forego its claim!"</p> + +<p>Looking up from it with no admiration to express for +the face, he saw Francesca's smiling on it with a sort of +adoration, as she, reclaiming her property, said,—</p> + +<p>"My father's old friends have a great deal of enjoyment, +and amusement too, from his beauty. One of them +was the other day telling me of the excessive admiration +people had always shown, and laughingly insisted that +when papa was a young man, and appeared in public, in +London or Paris, it was between two police officers to +keep off the admiring crowd; and," laughing a gay little +laugh herself, "of course I believed him! why shouldn't I?"</p> + +<p>He was looking at the picture again. "What an air of +command he has!"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I remember hearing that when Daniel Webster +was in London, and walked unattended through the +streets, the coal-heavers and workmen took off their hats +and stood bareheaded till he had gone by, thinking it was +royalty that passed. I think they would do the same for +papa."</p> + +<p>"If he looks like a king, I know somebody who looks +like a princess," thought the happy young fellow, gazing +down upon the proud, dainty figure by his side; but he +smiled as he said, "What a little aristocrat you are, Miss +Ercildoune! what a pity you were born a Yankee!"</p> + +<p>"I am not a Yankee, Mr. Surrey," replied the little aristocrat, +"if to be a Yankee is to be a native of America. I +was born on the sea."</p> + +<p>"And your mother, I know, was English."</p> + +<p>"Yes, she was English."</p> + +<p>"Is it rude to ask if your father was the same?</p> + +<p>"No!" she answered emphatically, "my papa is a Virginian,—a +Virginia gentleman,"—the last word spoken +with an untransferable accent,—"there are few enough of +them."</p> + +<p>"So, so!" thought Willie, "here my riddle is read. +Southern—Virginia—gentleman. No wonder she has no +love to spend on country or flag; no wonder we couldn't +agree. And yet it can't be that,—what were the first words +I ever heard from her mouth?" and, remembering that terrible +denunciation of the "peculiar institution" of Virginia +and of the South, he found himself puzzled the more.</p> + +<p>Just then there came into the picture-gallery, where +they were wasting a pleasant morning, a young man to +whom Surrey gave the slightest of recognitions,—well-dressed, +booted, and gloved, yet lacking the nameless +something which marks the gentleman. His glance, as it +rested on Surrey, held no love, and, indeed, was rather +malignant.</p> + +<p>"That fellow," said Surrey, indicating him, "has a queer +story connected with him. He was discharged from my +father's employ to give place to a man who could do his +work better; and the strange part of it"—he watched her +with an amused smile to see what effect the announcement +would have upon her Virginia ladyship—"is that number +two is a black man."</p> + +<p>A sudden heat flushed her cheeks: "Do you tell me +your father made room for a black man in his employ, and +at the expense of a white one?"</p> + +<p>"It is even so."</p> + +<p>"Is he there now?"</p> + +<p>Surrey's beautiful Saxon face crimsoned. "No: he is +not," he said reluctantly.</p> + +<p>"Ah! did he, this black man,—did he not do his work +well?"</p> + +<p>"Admirably."</p> + +<p>"Is it allowable, then, to ask why he was discarded?"</p> + +<p>"It is allowable, surely. He was dismissed because the +choice lay between him and seven hundred men."</p> + +<p>"And you"—her face was very pale now, the flush all +gone out of it—"you have nothing to do with your +father's works, but you are his son,—did you do naught? +protest, for instance?"</p> + +<p>"I protested—and yielded. The contest would have +been not merely with seven hundred men, but with every +machinist in the city. Justice <i>versus</i> prejudice, and prejudice +had it; as, indeed, I suppose it will for a good many generations +to come: invincible it appears to be in the American +mind."</p> + +<p>"Invincible! is it so?" She paused over the words, scrutinizing +him meanwhile with an unconscious intensity.</p> + +<p>"And this black man,—what of him? He was flung out to +starve and die; a proper fate, surely, for his presumption. +Poor fool! how did he dare to think he could compete +with his masters! You know nothing of <i>him </i>?"</p> + +<p>Surely he must be mistaken. What could this black man, +or this matter, be to her? yet as he listened her voice +sounded to his ear like that of one in mortal pain. What +held him silent? Why did he not tell her, why did he not in +some way make her comprehend, that he, delicate exclusive, +and patrician, as the people of his set thought him, had gone +to this man, had lifted him from his sorrow and despondency +to courage and hope once more; had found him +work; would see that the place he strove to fill in the world +should be filled, could any help of his secure that end. Why +did the modesty which was a part of him, and the high-bred +reserve which shrank from letting his own mother know of +the good deeds his life wrought, hold him silent now?</p> + +<p>In that silence something fell between them. What was +it? But a moment, yet in that little space it seemed to him +as though continents divided them, and seas rolled +between. "Francesca!" he cried, under his breath,—he had +never before called her by her Christian name,—"Francesca!" +and stretched out his hand towards her, as a +drowning man stretches forth his hand to life.</p> + +<p>"This room is stifling!" she said for answer; and her +voice, dulled and unnatural, seemed to his strangely confused +senses as though it came from a far distance,—"I am +suffering: shall we go out to the air?"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<p> +"<i>But more than loss about me clings.</i>"<br /> +<br /> +JEAN INGELOW<br /><br /><br /> +</p> + + +<p>"No! no, I am mad to think it! I must have +been dreaming! what could there have +been in that talk to have such an effect as I have conjured +up? She pitied Franklin! yes, she pities every one whom +she thinks suffering or wronged. Dear little tender heart! +of course it was the room,—didn't she say she was ill? it +must have been awful; the heat and the closeness got into +my head,—that's it. Bad air is as bad as whiskey on a man's +brain. What a fool I made of myself! not even answering +her questions. What did she think of me? Well."</p> + +<p>Surrey in despair pushed away the book over which he +had been bending all the afternoon, seeing for every word +Francesca, and on every page an image of her face. "I'll +smoke myself into some sort of decent quiet, before I go +up town, at least"; and taking his huge meerschaum, settling +himself sedately, began his quieting operation with +appalling energy. The soft rings, gray and delicate, taking +curious and airy shapes, floated out and filled the room; +but they were not soothing shapes, nor ministering spirits +of comfort. They seemed filmy garments, and from their +midst faces beautiful, yet faint and dim, looked at him, all +of them like unto her face; but when he dropped his pipe +and bent forward, the wreaths of smoke fell into lines that +made the faces appear sad and bathed in tears, and the +images faded from his sight.</p> + +<p>As the last one, with its visionary arms outstretched +towards him, receded from him, and disappeared, he +thought, "That is Francesca's spirit, bidding me an eternal +adieu"—and, with the foolish thought, in spite of its foolishness, +he shivered and stretched out his arms in return.</p> + +<p>"Of a verity," he then cried, "if nature failed to make +me an idiot, I am doing my best to consummate that end, +and become one of free choice. What folly possesses me? +I will dissipate it at once,—I will see her in bodily shape,—that +will put an end to such fancies,"—starting up, and +beginning to pull on his gloves.</p> + +<p>"No! no, that will not do,"—pulling them off again. +"She will think I am an uneasy ghost that pursues her. I must +wait till this evening, but ah, what an age till evening!"</p> + +<p>Fortunately, all ages, even lovers' ages, have an end. +The evening came; he was at the Fifth Avenue,—his card +sent up,—his feet impatiently travelling to and fro upon +the parlor carpet,—his heart beating with happiness and +expectancy. A shadow darkened the door; he flew to meet +the substance,—not a sweet face and graceful form, but a +servant, big and commonplace, bringing him his own card +and the announcement, "The ladies is both out, sir."</p> + +<p>"Impossible! take it up again."</p> + +<p>He said "impossible" because Francesca had that +morning told him she would be at home in the evening.</p> + +<p>"All right, sir; but it's no use, for there's nobody there, +I know"; and he vanished for a second attempt, unsuccessful +as the first. Surrey went to the office, still determinedly +incredulous.</p> + +<p>"Are Mrs. Lancaster and Miss Ercildoune not in?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir; both out. Keys here,"—showing them. "Left +for one of the five-o'clock trains; rooms not given up; said +they would be back in a few days."</p> + +<p>"From what depot did they leave?"</p> + +<p>"Don't know, sir. They didn't go in the coach; had a +carriage, or I could tell you."</p> + +<p>"But they left a note, perhaps,—or some message?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing at all, sir; not a word, nor a scrap. Can I serve +you in any way further?"</p> + +<p>"Thanks! not at all. Good evening."</p> + +<p>"Good evening, sir."</p> + +<p>That was all. What did it mean?—to vanish without a +sign! an engagement for the evening, and not a line left in +explanation or excuse! It was not like her. There must be +something wrong, some mystery. He tormented himself +with a thousand fancies and fears over what, he confessed, +was probably a mere accident; wisely determined to do so +no longer,—but did, spite of such excellent resolutions +and intent.</p> + +<p>This took place on the evening of Saturday, the 13th of +April, 1861. The events of the next few days doubtless augmented +his anxiety and unhappiness. Sunday followed,—a +day filled not with a Sabbath calm, but with the stillness felt +in nature before some awful convulsion; the silence preceding +earthquake, volcano, or blasting storm; a quiet +broken from Maine to the Pacific slope when the next day +shone, and men roused themselves from the sleep of a night +to the duty of a day, from the sleep of generations, fast +merging into death, at the trumpet-call to arms,—a cry +which sounded through every State and every household in +the land, which, more powerful than the old songs of Percy +and Douglas, "brought children from their play, and old +men from their chimney-corners," to emulate humanity in +its strength and prime, and contest with it the opportunity +to fight and die in a deathless cause.</p> + +<p>A cry which said, "There are wrongs to be redressed +already long enough endured,—wrongs against the flag of +the nation, against the integrity of the Union, against the +life of the republic; wrongs against the cause of order, of +law, of good government, against right, and justice, and +liberty, against humanity and the world; not merely in the +present, but in the great future, its countless ages and its +generations yet unborn."</p> + +<p>To this cry there sounded one universal response, as +men dropped their work at loom, or forge, or wheel, in +counting-room, bank, and merchant's store, in pulpit, +office, or platform, and with one accord rushed to arms, +to save these rights so frightfully and arrogantly assailed.</p> + +<p>One voice that went to swell this chorus was Surrey's; +one hand quick to grasp rifle and cartridge-box, one soul +eager to fling its body into the breach at this majestic call, +was his. He felt to the full all the divine frenzy and passion +of those first days of the war, days unequalled in the history +of nations and of the world. All the elegant dilettanteism, +the delicious idleness, the luxurious ease, fell away, +and were as though they had never been. All the airy +dreams of a renewed chivalrous age, of courage, of +heroism, of sublime daring and self-sacrifice, took substance +and shape, and were for him no longer visions of +the night, but realities of the day.</p> + +<p>Still, while flags waved, drums beat, and cannon thundered; +while friends said, "Go!" the world stood ready to +cheer him on, and fame and honor and greater things than +these beckoned him to come; while he felt the whirl and +excitement of it all,—his heart cried ceaselessly, "Only let +me see her—once—if but for a moment, before I go!" It +was so little he asked of fate, yet too much to be granted.</p> + +<p>In vain he went every day, and many times a day, in the +brief space left him, to her hotel. In vain he once more +questioned clerk and servants; in vain haunted the house of +his aunt, with the dim hope that Clara might hear from +her, or that in some undefined way he might learn of her +whereabouts, and so accomplish his desire.</p> + +<p>But the days passed, too slowly for the ardent young +patriot, all too rapidly for the unhappy lover. Friday came. +Early in the day multitudes of people began to collect in +the street, growing in numbers and enthusiasm as the +hours wore on, till, in the afternoon, the splendid thoroughfare +of New York from Fourth Street down to the +Cortlandt Ferry—a stretch of miles—was a solid mass of +humanity; thousands and tens of thousands, doubled, +quadrupled, and multiplied again.</p> + +<p>Through the morning this crowd in squads and companies +traversed the streets, collected on the corners, congregating +chiefly about the armory of their pet regiment, +the Seventh, on Lafayette Square,—one great mass gazing +unweariedly at its windows and walls, then moving on to +be replaced by another of the like kind, which, having +gone through the same performance, gave way in turn to +yet others, eager to take its place.</p> + +<p>So the fever burned; the excitement continued and +augmented till, towards three o'clock in the afternoon, the +mighty throng stood still, and waited. It was no ordinary +multitude; the wealth, refinement, fashion, the greatness +and goodness of a vast city were there, pressed close against +its coarser and darker and homelier elements. Men and +women stood alike in the crowd, dainty patrician and toil-stained +laborer, all thrilled by a common emotion, all vivified—if +in unequal degree—by the same sublime enthusiasm. +Overhead, from every window and doorway and +housetop, in every space and spot that could sustain one, +on ropes, on staffs, in human hands, waved, and curled, +and floated, flags that were in multitude like the swells of +the sea; silk, and bunting, and painted calico, from the +great banner spreading its folds with an indescribable +majesty, to the tiny toy shaken in a baby hand. Under all +this glad and gay and splendid show, the faces seemed, perhaps +by contrast, not sad, but grave; not sorrowful, but +intense, and luminously solemn.</p> + +<p>Gradually the men of the Seventh marched out of +their armory. Hands had been wrung, adieus said, last fond +embraces and farewells given. The regiment formed in the +open square, the crowd about it so dense as to seem stifling, +the windows of its building rilled with the sweetest +and finest and fairest of faces,—the mothers, wives, and +sweethearts of these young splendid fellows just ready to +march away.</p> + +<p>Surrey from his station gazed and gazed at the window +where stood his mother, so well beloved, his relations and +friends, many of them near and dear to him,—some of +them with clear, bright eyes that turned from the forms of +brothers in the ranks to seek his, and linger upon it wistfully +and tenderly; yet looking at all these, even his mother, +he looked beyond, as though in the empty space a face +would appear, eyes would meet his, arms be stretched +towards him, lips whisper a fond adieu, as he, breaking +from the ranks, would take her to his embrace, and speak, +at the same time, his love and farewell. A fruitless longing.</p> + +<p>Four o'clock struck over the great city, and the line +moved out of the square, through Fourth Street, to +Broadway. Then began a march, which whoso witnessed, +though but a little child, will remember to his dying day, +the story of which he will repeat to his children, and his +children's children, and, these dead, it will be read by eyes +that shall shine centuries hence, as one of the most memorable +scenes in the great struggle for freedom.</p> + +<p>Hands were stretched forth to touch the cloth of their +uniforms, and kissed when they were drawn back. +Mothers held up their little children to gain inspiration for +a lifetime. A roar of voices, continuous, unbroken, rent the +skies; while, through the deafening cheers, men and +women, with eyes blinded by tears, repeated, a million +times, "God bless—God bless and keep them!" And so, +down the magnificent avenue, through the countless, +shouting multitude, through the whirlwind of enthusiasm +and adoration, under the glorious sweep of flags, the grand +regiment moved from the beginning of its march to its +close,—till it was swept away towards the capital, around +which were soon to roll such bloody waves of death.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, where was Miss Ercildoune? Surrey had +thought her behavior strange the last morning they spent +together. How much stranger, how unaccountable, +indeed, would it have seemed to him, could he have seen +her through the afternoon following!</p> + +<p>"What is wrong with you? are you ill, Francesca?" her +aunt had inquired as she came in, pulling off her hat with +the air of one stifling, and throwing herself into a chair.</p> + +<p>"Ill! O no!"—with a quick laugh,—"what could have +made you think so? I am quite well, thank you; but I will +go to my room for a little while and rest. I think I am +tired."</p> + +<p>"Do, dear, for I want you to take a trip up the Hudson +this afternoon. I have to see some English people who are +living at a little village a score of miles out of town, and +then I must go on to Albany before I take you home. It +will be pleasant at Tanglewood over the Sabbath,—unless +you have some engagements to keep you here?"</p> + +<p>"O Aunt Alice, how glad I am! I was going home this +afternoon without you. I thought you would come when +you were ready; but this will do just as well,—anything to +get out of town."</p> + +<p>"Anything to get out of town? why, Francesca, is it so +hateful to you? 'Going home! and this do almost as well!'—what +does the child mean? is she the least little bit mad? I'm +afraid so. She evidently needs some fresh country air, and rest +from excitement. Go, dear, and take your nap, and refresh +yourself before five o'clock; that is the time we leave."</p> + +<p>As the door closed between them, she shook her head +dubiously. '"Going home this afternoon!' what does that +signify? Has she been quarrelling with that young lover of +hers, or refusing him? I should not care to ask any questions +till she herself speaks; but I fear me something is +wrong."</p> + +<p>She would not have feared, but been certain, could she +have looked then and there into the next room. She would +have seen that the trouble was something deeper than she +dreamed. Francesca was sitting, her hands supporting an +aching head, her large eyes fixed mournfully and immovably +upon something which she seemed to contemplate +with a relentless earnestness, as though forcing herself to a +distressing task. What was this something? An image, a +shadow in the air, which she had not evoked from the +empty atmosphere, but from the depths of her own nature +and soul,—the life and fate of a young girl. Herself! what +cause, then, for mournful scrutiny? She, so young, so brilliant, +so beautiful, upon whom fate had so kindly smiled, +admired by many, tenderly and passionately loved by at +least one heart,—surely it was a delightful picture to contemplate,—this +life and its future; a picture to bring smiles +to the lips, rather than tears to the eyes.</p> + +<p>Though, in fact, there were none dimming hers,—hot, +dry eyes, full of fever and pain. What visions passed before +them? what shadows of the life she inspected darkened +them? what sunshine now and then fell upon it, reflecting +itself in them, as she leaned forward to scan these bright +spots, holding them in her gaze after other and gloomier +ones had taken their places, as one leans forth from +window or doorway to behold, long as possible, the vanishing +form of some dear friend.</p> + +<p>Looking at these, she cried out, "Fool! to have been so +happy, and not to have known what the happiness meant, +and that it was not for me,—never for me! to have walked +to the verge of an abyss,—to have plunged in, thinking the +path led to heaven. Heaven for me! ah,—I forgot,—I +forgot. I let an unconscious bliss seize me, possess me, +exclude memory and thought,—lived in it as though it +would endure forever."</p> + +<p>She got up and moved restlessly to and fro across the +room, but presently came back to the seat she had abandoned, +and to the inspection which, while it tortured her, +she yet evidently compelled herself to pursue.</p> + +<p>"Come," she then said, "let us ask ourself some questions, +constitute ourself confessor and penitent, and see +what the result will prove."</p> + +<p>"Did you think fate would be more merciful to you +than to others?"</p> + +<p>"No, I thought nothing about fate."</p> + +<p>"Did you suppose that he loved you sufficiently to +destroy 'an invincible barrier?'"</p> + +<p>"I did not think of his love. I remembered no barrier. +I only knew I was in heaven, and cared for naught +beyond."</p> + +<p>"Do you see the barrier now?"</p> + +<p>"I do—I do."</p> + +<p>"Did <i>he</i> help you to behold it; to discover, or to +remember it? did he, or did he not?"</p> + +<p>"He did. Too true,—he did."</p> + +<p>"Does he love you?"</p> + +<p>"I—how should I know? his looks, his acts—I never +thought—O Willie, Willie!"—her voice going out in a +little gasping sob.</p> + +<p>"Come,—none of that. No sentiment,—face the facts. +Think over all that was said, every word. Have you done +so?"</p> + +<p>"I have,—every word."</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, stop torturing me. Do not ask me any more +questions. I am going away,—flying like a coward. I will +not tempt further suffering. And yet—once more—only +once? could that do harm? Ah, God, my God, be merciful!" +she cried, clasping her hands and lifting them above +her bowed head. Then remembering, in the midst of her +anguish, some words she had been reading that morning, +she repeated them with a bitter emphasis,—"What can +wringing of the hands do, that which is ordained to alter?" +As she did so she tore asunder her clasped hands, to drop +them clinched by her side,—the gesture of despair substituted +for that of hope.</p> + +<p>"It is not Heaven I am to besiege!" she exclaimed. +"Will I never learn that? Its justice cannot overcome the +injustice of man. My God!" she cried then, with a sudden, +terrible energy, "our punishment should be light, our rest +sure, our paradise safe, at the end, since we have to make +now such awful atonement; since men compel us to +endure the pangs of purgatory, the tortures of hell, here +upon earth."</p> + +<p>After that she sat for a long while silent, evidently +revolving a thousand thoughts of every shape and hue, +judging from the myriads of lights and shadows that flitted +over her face. At last, rousing herself, she perceived that +she had no more time to spend in this sorrowful employment,—that +she must prepare to go away from him, as her +heart said, forever. "Forever!" it repeated. "This, then, is +the close of it all,—the miserable end!" With that thought +she shut her slender hand, and struck it down hard, the +blood almost starting from the driven nails and bruised +flesh, unheeding; though a little space thereafter she +smiled, beholding it, and muttered, "So—the drop of +savage blood is telling at last!"</p> + +<p>Presently she was gone. It was a pleasant spot to which +her aunt took her,—one of the pretty little villages scattered +up and down the long sweep of the Hudson. +Pleasant people they were too,—these English friends of +Mrs. Lancaster,—who made her welcome, but did not +intrude upon the solitude which they saw she desired.</p> + +<p>Sabbath morning they all went to the little chapel, and +left her, as she wished, alone. Being so alone, after hearing +their adieus, she went up to her room and sat down to +devote herself once again to sorrowful contemplation,—not +because she would, but because she must.</p> + +<p>Poor girl! the bright spring sunshine streamed over her +where she sat;—not a cloud in the sky, not a dimming of +mist or vapor on all the hills, and the broad river-sweep +which, placid and beautiful, rolled along; the cattle far off +on the brown fields rubbed their silky sides softly together, +and gazed through the clear atmosphere with a lazy content, +as though they saw the waving of green grass, and +heard the rustle of wind in the thick boughs, so soon to +bear their leafy burden. Stillness everywhere,—the blessed +calm that even nature seems to feel on a sunny Sabbath +morn. Stillness scarcely broken by the voices, mellowed +and softened ere they reached her ear, chanting in the village +church, to some sweet and solemn music, words +spoken in infinite tenderness long ago, and which, through +all the centuries, come with healing balm to many a sore +and saddened heart: "Come unto me," the voices sang,—"come +unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and +I will give you rest."</p> + +<p>"Ah, rest," she murmured while she listened,—"rest"; +and with the repetition of the word the fever died out of +her eyes, leaving them filled with such a look, more pitiful +than any tears, as would have made a kind heart ache even +to look at them; while her figure, alert and proud no +longer, bent on the window ledge in such lonely and +weary fashion that a strong arm would have involuntarily +stretched out to shield it from any hardness or blow that +might threaten, though the owner thereof were a stranger.</p> + +<p>There was something indescribably appealing and +pathetic in her whole look and air. Outside the window +stood a slender little bird which had fluttered there, spent +and worn, and did not try to flit away any further. Too +early had it flown from its southern abode; too early abandoned +the warm airs, the flowers and leafage, of a more +hospitable region, to find its way to a northern home; too +early ventured into a rigorous clime; and now, shivering, +faint, near to death, drooped its wings and hung its weary +head, waiting for the end of its brief life to come.</p> + +<p>Francesca, looking up with woeful eyes, beheld it, and, +opening the window, softly took it in. "Poor birdie!" she +whispered, striving to warm it in her gentle hand and +against her delicate cheek,—"poor little wanderer!—didst +thou think to find thy mate, and build thy tiny nest, and be +a happy mother through the long bright summer-time? Ah, +my pet, what a sad close is this to all these pleasant dreams!"</p> + +<p>The frail little creature could not eat even the bits of +crumbs which she put into its mouth, nor taste a drop of +water. All her soothing presses failed to bring warmth and +life to the tiny frame that presently stretched itself out, +dead,—all its sweet songs sung, its brief, bright existence +ended forever. "Ah, my little birdie, it is all over," whispered +Francesca, as she laid it softly down, and unconsciously +lifted her hand to her own head with a self-pitying +gesture that was sorrowful to behold.</p> + +<p>"Like me," she did not say; yet a penetrating eye +looking at them—the slight bird lying dead, its brilliant +plumage already dimmed, the young girl gazing at it—would +perceive that alike these two were fitted for the +warmth and sunshine, would perceive that both had been +thwarted and defrauded of their fair inheritance, would +perceive that one lay spent and dead in its early spring. +What of the other?</p> + +<p>"Aunt Alice," said Francesca a few days after that, "can +you go to New York this afternoon or to-morrow +morning?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly, dear. I purposed returning to-day or early +in the morning to see the Seventh march away. Of course +you would like to be there."</p> + +<p>"Yes." She spoke slowly, and with seeming indifference. +It was because she could scarcely control her voice to speak +at all. "I should like to be there."</p> + +<p>Francesca knew, what her aunt did not, that Surrey was +a member of the Seventh, and that he would march away +with it to danger,—perhaps to death.</p> + +<p>So they were there, in a window overlooking the great +avenue,—Mrs. Lancaster, foreigner though she was, +thrilled to the heart's core by the magnificent pageant; +Francesca straining her eyes up the long street, through the +vast sea of faces, to fasten them upon just one face that she +knew would presently appear in the throng.</p> + +<p>"Ah, heavens!" cried Mrs. Lancaster, "what a sight! +look at those young men; they are the choice and fine of +the city. See, see! there is Hunter, and Winthrop, and Pursuivant, +and Mortimer, and Shaw, and Russell, and, yes—no—it +is, over there—your friend, Surrey, himself. Did +you know, Francesca?"</p> + +<p>Francesca did not reply. Mrs. Lancaster turned to see +her lying white and cold in her chair. Endurance had failed +at last.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<p> +"<i>The plain, unvarnished tale of my whole course of love.</i>"<br /> +<br /> +SHAKESPEARE<br /><br /><br /> +</p> + + +<p>"What a handsome girl that is who +always waits on us!" Francesca had once +said to Clara Russell, as they came out of Hyacinth's with +some dainty laces in their hands.</p> + +<p>"Very," Clara had answered.</p> + +<p>The handsome girl was Sallie.</p> + +<p>At another time Francesca, admiring some particular +specimen of the pomps and vanities with which the store +was crowded, was about carrying it away, but first experimented +as to its fit.</p> + +<p>"O dear!" she cried, in dismay, "it is too short, and"—rummaging +through the box—"there is not another like it, +and it is the only one I want."</p> + +<p>"How provoking!" sympathized Clara.</p> + +<p>"I could very easily alter that," said Sallie, who was +behind the counter; "I make these up for the shop, and I'll +be glad to fix this for you, if you like it so much."</p> + +<p>"Thanks. You are very kind. Can you send it up to-morrow?"</p> + +<p>"This evening, if you wish it."</p> + +<p>"Very good; I shall be your debtor."</p> + +<p>"Well!" exclaimed Clara, as they turned away, this is +the first time in all my shopping I ever found a girl ready +to put herself out to serve one. They usually act as if they +were conferring the most overwhelming favor by condescending +to wait upon you at all."</p> + +<p>"Why, Clara, I'm sure I always find them civil."</p> + +<p>"I know they seem devoted to you. I wonder why. +Oh!"—laughing and looking at her friend with honest +admiration,—"it must be because you are so pretty."</p> + +<p>"Excellent,—how discerning you are!" smiled +Francesca, in return.</p> + +<p>If Clara had had a little more discernment, she would +have discovered that what wrought this miracle was a +friendly courtesy, that never failed to either equal or subordinate.</p> + +<p>Six weeks after the Seventh had marched out of New +York, Francesca, sitting in her aunt's room, was roused +from evidently painful thought by the entrance of a servant, +who announced, "If you please, a young woman to +see you."</p> + +<p>"Name?"</p> + +<p>"She gave none, miss."</p> + +<p>"Send her up."</p> + +<p>Sallie came in. "Bird of Paradise" Francesca had called +her more than once, she was so dashing and handsome; but +the title would scarcely fit now, for she looked poor, and +sad, and woefully dispirited.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Miss Sallie, is it you? Good morning."</p> + +<p>"Good morning, Miss Ercildoune." She stood, and +looked as though she had something important to say. +Presently Francesca had drawn it from her,—a little story +of her own sorrows and troubles.</p> + +<p>"The reason I have come to you, Miss Ercildoune, +when you are so nearly a stranger, is because you have +always been so kind and pleasant to me when I waited on +you at the store, and I thought you'd anyway listen to what +I have to say."</p> + +<p>"Speak on, Sallie."</p> + +<p>"I've been at Hyacinth's now, over four years, ever +since I left school. It's a good place, and they paid me well, +but I had to keep two people out of it, my little brother +Frank and myself; Frank and I are orphans. And I'm very +fond of dress; I may as well confess that at once. So the +consequence is, I haven't saved a cent against a rainy day. +Well," blushing scarlet, "I had a lover,—the best heart that +ever beat,—but I liked to flirt, and plague him a little, and +make him jealous; and at last he got dreadfully so about a +young gentleman,—a Mr. Snipe, who was very attentive +to me,—and talked to me about it in a way I didn't like. +That made me worse. I don't know what possessed me; but +after that I went out with Mr. Snipe a great deal more, to +the theatre and the like, and let him spend his money on +me, and get things for me, as freely as he chose. I didn't +mean any harm, indeed I didn't,—but I liked to go about +and have a good time; and then it made Jim show how +much he cared for me, which, you see, was a great thing +to me; and so this went on for a while, till Jim gave me a +real lecture, and I got angry and wouldn't listen to anything +he had to say, and sent him away in a huff"—here +she choked—"to fight; to the war; and O dear! O dear!" +breaking down utterly, and hiding her face in her shawl, +"he'll be killed,—I know he will; and oh! what shall I do? +My heart will break, I am sure."</p> + +<p>Francesca came and stood by her side, put her hand +gently on her shoulder, and stroked her beautiful hair. +"Poor girl!" she said, softly, "poor girl!" and then, so low +that even Sallie could not hear, "You suffer, too: do we all +suffer, then?"</p> + +<p>Presently Sallie looked up, and continued: "Up to that +time, Mr. Snipe hadn't said anything to me, except that he +admired me very much, and that I was pretty, too pretty to +work so hard, and that I ought to live like a lady, and a +good deal more of that kind of talk that I was silly enough +to listen to; but when he found Jim was gone, first, he +made fun of him for 'being such a great fool as to go and +be shot at for nothing,' and then he—O Miss Ercildoune, +I can't tell you what he said; it makes me choke just to +think of it. How dared he? what had I done that he should +believe me such a thing as that? I don't know what words +I used when I did find them, and I don't care, but they +must have stung. I can't tell you how he looked, but it was +dreadful; and he said, 'I'll bring down that proud spirit of +yours yet, my lady. I'm not through with you,—don't +think it,—not by a good deal'; and then he made me a fine +bow, and laughed, and went out of the room.</p> + +<p>"The next day Mr. Dodd—that's one of our firm—gave +me a week's notice to quit: 'work was slack,' he said, +'and they didn't want so many girls.' But I'm just as sure as +sure can be that Mr. Snipe's at the bottom of it, for I've +been at the store, as I told you, four years and more, and +they always reckoned me one of their best hands, and Mr. +Dodd and Mr. Snipe are great friends. Since then I've done +nothing but try to get work. I must have been into a thousand +stores, but it's true work is slack; there's not a thing +been doing since the war commenced, and I can't get any +place. I've been to Miss Russell and some of the ladies +who used to come to the store, to see if they'd give me +some fine sewing; but they hadn't any for me, and I don't +know what in the world to do, for I understand nothing +very well but to sew, and to stand in a store. I've spent all +my money, what little I had, and—and—I've even sold +some of my clothes, and I can't go on this way much +longer. I haven't a relative in the world; nor a home, except +in a boarding-house; and the girls I know all treat me cool, +as though I had done something bad, because I've lost my +place, I suppose, and am poor.</p> + +<p>"All along, at times, Mr. Snipe has been sending me +things,—bouquets, and baskets of fruit, and sometimes a +note, and, though I won't speak to him when I meet him +on the street, he always smiles and bows as if he were +intimate; and last night, when I was coming home, tired +enough from my long search, he passed me and said, with +such a look, 'You've gone down a peg or two, haven't you, +Sallie? Come, I guess we'll be friends again before long.' +You think it's queer I'm telling you all this. I can't help it; +there's something about you that draws it all out of me. I +came to ask you for work, and here I've been talking all +this while about myself. You must excuse me; I don't think +I would have said so much, if you hadn't looked so kind +and so interested"; and so she had,—kind as kind could be, +and interested as though the girl who talked had been her +own sister.</p> + +<p>"I am glad you came, Sallie, and glad that you told me +all this, if it has been any relief to you. You may be sure I +will do what I can for you, but I am afraid that will not be +a great deal, here; for I am a stranger in New York, and +know very few people. Perhaps—Would you go away from +here?"</p> + +<p>"Would I?—O wouldn't I? and be glad of the chance. +I'd give anything to go where I couldn't get sight or sound +of that horrid Snipe. Can't I go with you, Miss Ercildoune?"</p> + +<p>"I have no counter behind which to station you," said +Francesca, smiling.</p> + +<p>"No, I know,—of course; but"—looking at the daintily +arrayed figure—"you have plenty of elegant things to +make, and I can do pretty much anything with my needle, +if you'd like to trust me with some work. And then—I'm +ashamed to ask so much of you, but a few words from you +to your friends, I'm sure, would send me all that I could +do, and more."</p> + +<p>"You think so?" Miss Ercildoune inquired, with a +curious intonation to her voice, and the strangest +expression darkening her face. "Very well, it shall +be tried."</p> + +<p>Sallie was nonplussed by the tone and look, but she +comprehended the closing words fully and with delight. +"You will take me with you," she cried. "O, how good, +how kind you are! how shall I ever be able to thank you?"</p> + +<p>"Don't thank me at all," said Miss Ercildoune, "at least +not now. Wait till I have done something to deserve your +gratitude."</p> + +<p>But Sallie was not to be silenced in any such fashion, +and said her say with warmth and meaning; then, after +some further talk about time and plans, went away +carrying a bit of work which Miss Ercildoune had found, or +made, for her, and for which she had paid in advance.</p> + +<p>"God bless her!" thought Sallie; "how nice and how +thoughtful she is! Most ladies, if they'd done anything for +me, would have given me some money and made a beggar +of me, and I should have felt as mean as dish-water. But +now"—she patted her little bundle and walked down the +street, elated and happy.</p> + +<p>Francesca watched her out of the door with eyes that +presently filled with tears. "Poor girl!" she whispered; +"poor Sallie! her lover has gone to the wars with a shadow +between them. Ah, that must not be; I must try to bring +them together again, if he loves her dearly and truly. He +might die,"—she shuddered at that,—"die, as other men +die, in the heat and flame of battle. My God! my God! +how shall I bear it? Dead! and without a word! Gone, and +he will never know how well I love him! O Willie, Willie! +my life, my love, my darling, come back, come back to +me."</p> + +<p>Vain cry!—he cannot hear. Vain lifting of an agonized +face, beautiful in its agony!—he cannot see. Vain stretching +forth of longing hands and empty arms!—he is not there +to take them to his embrace. Carry thy burden as others +have carried it before thee, and learn what multitudes, in +times past and in time present, have learned,—the lesson +of endurance when happiness is denied, and of patience +and silence when joy has been withheld. Go thou thy way, +sorrowful and suffering soul, alone; and if thy own heart +bleeds, strive thou to soothe its pangs, by medicining the +wounds and healing the hurts of another.</p> + +<p>A few days thereafter, when Miss Ercildoune went over +to Philadelphia, Sallie and Frank bore her company. She +had become as thoroughly interested in them as though +she had known and cared for them for a long while; and as +she was one who was incapable of doing in an imperfect +or partial way aught she attempted, and whose friendship +never stopped short with pleasant sounding words, this +interest had already bloomed beautifully, and was fast +ripening into solid fruit.</p> + +<p>She had written in advance to desire that certain +preparations should be made for her <i>protégés</i>,—preparations +which had been faithfully attended to; and thus, reaching +a strange city, they felt themselves not strangers, since they +had a home ready to receive them, and this excellent +friend by their side.</p> + +<p>The home consisted of two rooms, neat, cheerful, +high up,—"the airier and healthier for that," as Sallie +decided when she saw them.</p> + +<p>"I believe everything is in order," said the good-natured-looking +old lady, the mistress of the establishment. +"My lodgers are all gentlemen who take their meals out, +and I shall be glad of some company. Any one whom +Friend Comstock recommends will be all right, I know."</p> + +<p>As Mrs. Healey's style of designation indicated, Friend +Comstock was a Quakeress, well known, greatly esteemed, +an old friend of Miss Ercildoune, and of Miss Ercildoune's +father. She it was to whom Francesca had written, and +who had found this domicile for the wanderers, and who +at the outset furnished Sallie with an abundance of fine +and dainty sewing. Indeed, without giving the matter +special thought, she was surprised to discover that, with one +or two exceptions, the people Miss Ercildoune sent her +were of the peaceful and quiet sect. This bird of brilliant +plumage seemed ill assorted with the sober-hued flock.</p> + +<p>She found in this same bird a helper in more ways than +one. It was not alone that she gave her employment and +paid her well, nor that she sent her others able and willing +to do the same. She found Frankie a good school, and saw +him properly installed. She never came to them empty-handed; +through the long, hot summer-time she brought +them fruit and flowers from her home out of town; and +when she came not herself, if the carriage was in the city +it stopped with these same delightful burdens. Sallie +declared her an angel, and Frank, with his mouth stuffed +full, stood ready to echo the assertion.</p> + +<p>So the heated term wore away,—before it ended, +telling heavily on Sallie. Her anxiety about Jim, her close +confinement and constant work, the fever everywhere in +the spiritual air through that first terrible summer of the +war, bore her down.</p> + +<p>"You need rest," said Miss Ercildoune to her one day, +looking at her with kindly solicitude,—"rest, and change, +and fresh air, and freedom from care. I can't give you the +last, but I can the first if you will accept them. You need +some country living."</p> + +<p>"O Miss Ercildoune, will you let me do your work at +your own home? I know it would do me good just to be +under the same roof with you, and then I should have all +the things you speak of combined and another one added. +If you only will!"</p> + +<p>This was not the plan Francesca had proposed to herself. +She had intended sending Sallie away to some pleasant +country or seaside place, till she was refreshed and ready to +come to her work once more. Sallie did not know what to +make of the expression of the face that watched her, nor +of the exclamation, "Why not? let me try her." But she had +not long to consider, for Miss Ercildoune added, "Be it so. +I will send in for you to-morrow, and you shall stay till you +are better and stronger, or—till you please to come +home,"—the last words spoken in a bitter and sorrowful +tone.</p> + +<p>The next day Sallie found her way to the superb home +of her employer. Superb it was, in every sense. Never +before had she been in such a delightful region, never +before realized how absolutely perfect breeding sets at ease +all who come within the charm of its magic sphere,—employed, +acquaintance, or friend.</p> + +<p>There was a shadow, however, in this house,—a +shadow, the premonition of which she had seen more than +once on the face of its mistress ere she ever beheld her +home; a shadow to which, for a few days, she had no clew, +but which was suddenly explained by the arrival of the +master of this beautiful habitation; a shadow from which +most people would have fled as from the breath of a pestilence, +or the shade of the tomb; nay, one from which, but +a few short months before, Sallie herself would have sped +with feet from which she would have shaken the very dust +of the threshold when she was beyond its doors,—but not +now. Now, as she beheld it, she sat still to survey it, with +surprise that deepened into indignation and compassion, +that many a time filled her eyes with tears, and brought an +added expression of respect to her voice when she spoke +to these people who seemed to have all the good things +that this world can offer, upon whom fortune had +expended her treasures, yet—</p> + +<p>Whatever it was, Sallie came from that home with +many an old senseless prejudice destroyed forever, with a +new thought implanted in her soul, the blossoming of +which was a noxious vapor in the nostrils of some who +were compelled to inhale it, but as a sweet-smelling savor +to more than one weary wayfarer, and to that God to +whom the darkness and the light are alike, and who, we are +told by His own word, is no respecter of persons.</p> + +<p>"Poor, dear Miss Ercildoune!" half sobbed, half +scolded Sallie, as she sat at her work, blooming and, fresh, +the day after her return. "What a tangled thread it is, to be +sure," jerking at her knotty needleful. "Well, I know what +I'll do,—I'll treat her as if she was a queen born and +crowned, just so long as I have anything to do with her,—so +I will." And she did.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<p> +"<i>For hearts of truest mettle<br /> +Absence doth join, and time doth settle.</i>"<br /> +<br /> +ANONYMOUS<br /><br /><br /> +</p> + + +<p>It were a vain endeavor to attempt the telling of what +filled the heart and soul of Surrey, as he marched away +that day from New York, and through the days and weeks +and months that followed. Fired by a sublime enthusiasm +for his country; thirsting to drink of any cup her hand +might present, that thus he might display his absolute +devotion to her cause; burning with indignation at the +wrongs she had suffered; thrilled with an adoring love for +the idea she embodied; eager to make manifest this love at +whatever cost of pain and sorrow and suffering to himself,—through +all this the man never once was steeped in +forgetfulness in the soldier; the divine passion of patriotism +never once dulled the ache, or satisfied the desire, or +answered the prayer, or filled the longing heart, that +through the day marches and the night watches cried, and +would not be appeased, for his darling.</p> + +<p>"Surely," he thought as he went down Broadway, as he +reflected, as he considered the matter a thousand times +thereafter,—"surely I was a fool not to have spoken to her +then; not to have seen her, have devised, have forced some +way to reach her, not to have met her face to face, and told +her all the love with which she had filled my heart and +possessed my soul. And then to have been such a coward +when I did write to her, to have so said a say which was +nothing"; and he groaned impatiently as he thought of the +scene in his room and the letter which was its final result.</p> + +<p>How he had written once, and again, and yet again, +letters short and long, letters short and burning, or lengthy +and filled almost to the final line with delicate fancies and +airy sentiment, ere he ventured to tell that of which all this +was but the prelude; how, at the conclusion of each +attempt, he had watched these luminous effusions blaze +and burn as he regularly committed them to the flames; +how he found it difficult to decide which he enjoyed the +most,—writing them out, or seeing them burn; how at last +he had put upon paper some such words as these:—</p> + +<p>"After these delightful weeks and months of intercourse, +I am to go away from you, then, without a single +word of parting, or a solitary sentence of adieu. Need I tell +you how this pains me? I have in vain besieged the house +that has held you; in vain made a thousand inquiries, a +thousand efforts to discover your retreat and to reach your +side, that I might once more see your face and take your +hand ere I went from the sight and touch of both, perchance +forever. This I find may not be. The hour strikes, +and in a little space I shall march away from the city to +which my heart clings with infinite fondness, since it is +filled with associations of you. I have again and again +striven to write that which will be worthy the eyes that are +to read, and striven in vain. 'Tis a fine art to which I do +not pretend. Then, in homely phrase, good by. Give me +thy spiritual hand, and keep me, if thou wilt, in thy gentle +remembrance. Adieu! a kind adieu, my friend; may the +brighter stars smile on thee, and the better angels guard thy +footsteps wherever thou mayst wander, keep thy heart and +spirit bright, and let thy thoughts turn kindly back to me, +I pray very, very often. And so, once more, farewell."</p> + +<p>Remembering all this, thinking what he would do and +say were the doing and saying yet possible in an untried +future, the time sped by. He waited and waited in vain. He +looked, yet was gratified by no sight for which his eyes +longed. He hoped, till hope gave place to despondency +and almost despair: not a word came to him, not a line of +answer or remembrance. This long silence was all the more +intolerable, since the time that intervened did but the +more vividly stamp upon his memory the delights of the +past, and color with softer and more exquisite tints the recollection +of vanished hours,—hours spent in galloping +gayly by her side in the early morning, or idly and deliciously +lounged away in picture-galleries or concert-rooms, +or in a conversation carried on in some curious and +subtle shape between two hearts and spirits with the help +of very few uttered words; hours in which he had whirled +her through many a fairy maze and turn of captivating +dance-music, or in some less heated and crowded room, or +cool conservatory, listened to the voice of the siren who +walked by his side, "while the sweet wind did gently kiss +the flowers and make no noise," and the strains of "flute, +violin, bassoon," and the sounds of the "dancers dancing in +tune," coming to them on the still air of night, seemed like +the sounds from another and a far-off world,—listened, +listened, listened, while his silver-tongued enchantress +builded castles in the air, or beguiled his thought, +enthralled his heart, his soul and fancy, through many a +golden hour.</p> + +<p>Thinking of all this, his heart well found expression for +its feelings in the half-pleasing, half-sorrowful lines which +almost unconsciously repeated themselves again and again +in his brain:—</p> + +<p> +"Still o'er those scenes my memory wakes,<br /> +And fondly broods with miser care;<br /> +Time but the impression deeper makes,<br /> +As streams their channels deeper wear."<br /> +</p> + +<p>Thinking of all this, he took comfort in spite of his +trouble. "Perhaps," he said to himself, "he was mistaken. +Perhaps"—O happy thought!—it was but make-believe +displeasure which had so tortured him. Perhaps—yes, he +would believe it—she had never received his letter; they +had been careless, they had failed to give it her or to send +it aright. He would write her once again, in language +which would relieve his heart, and which she must comprehend. +He loved her; perhaps, ah, perhaps she loved him +a little in return: he would believe so till he was undeceived, +and be infinitely happy in the belief.</p> + +<p>Is it not wondrous how even the tiniest grain of love +will permeate the saddest and sorest recesses of the heart, +and instantly cause it to pulsate with thoughts and emotions +the sweetest and dearest in life? O Love, thou sweet, +thou young and rose lipped cherubim, how does thy smile +illuminate the universe! how does thy slightest touch electrify +the soul! how gently and tenderly dost thou lead us +up to heaven!</p> + +<p>With Surrey, to decide was to act. The second letter, +full of sweetest yet intensest love,—his heart laid bare to +her,—was written; was sent, enclosed in one to his aunt. +Tom was away in another section, fighting manfully for the +dear old flag, or the precious missive would have been +intrusted to his care. He sent it thus that it might reach her +sooner. Now that he had a fresh hope, he could not wait +to write for her address, and forward it himself to her +hands; he must adopt the speediest method of putting it in +her possession.</p> + +<p>In a little space came answer from Mrs. Russell, +enclosing the letter he had sent: a kindly epistle it was. He +was a sort of idol with this same aunt, so she had put many +things on paper that were steeped in gentleness and affection +ere she said at the end, "I re-enclose your letter. I have +seen Miss Ercildoune. She restores it to you; she implores +you never to write her again,—to forget her. I add my +entreaties to hers. She begs of me to beseech you not to +try her by any further appeals, as she will but return them +unopened." That was all.</p> + +<p>What could it mean? He loved her so absolutely, he +had such exalted faith in her kindness, her gentleness, her +fairness and superiority,—in <i>her</i>,—that he could not +believe she would so thrust back his love, purely and +chivalrously offered, with something that seemed like +ignominy, unless she had a sufficient reason—or one she +deemed such—for treating so cruelly him and the offering +he laid at her feet.</p> + +<p>But she had spoken. It was for him, then, when she +bade silence, to keep it; when she refused his gift, to refrain +from thrusting it upon her attention and heart. But ah, the +silence and the refraining! Ah, the time—the weary, sore, +intolerable time—that followed! Summer, and autumn, +and winter, and the seasons repeated once again, he +tramped across the soil of Virginia, already wet with rebel +and patriot blood; he felt the shame and agony of Bull +Run; he was in the night struggle at Ball's Bluff, where +those wondrous Harvard boys found it "sweet to die for +their country," and discovered, for them, "death to be but +one step onward in life." He lay in camp, chafing with +impatience and indignation as the long months wore away, +and the thousands of graves about Washington, filled by +disease and inaction, made "all quiet along the Potomac." +He went down to Yorktown; was in the sweat and fury of +the seven days' fight; away in the far South, where fever +and pestilence stood guard to seize those who were spared +by the bullet and bayonet; and on many a field well lost or +won. Through it all marching or fighting, sick, wounded +thrice and again; praised, admired, heroic, promoted,—from +private soldier to general,—through two years and +more of such fiery experience, no part of the tender love +was burned away, tarnished, or dimmed.</p> + +<p>Sometimes, indeed, he even smiled at himself for the +constant thought, and felt that he must certainly be +demented on this one point at least, since it colored every +impression of his life, and, in some shape, thrust itself +upon him at the most unseemly and foreign times.</p> + +<p>One evening, when the mail for the division came in, +looking over the pile of letters, his eye was caught by one +addressed to James Given. The name was familiar,—that of +his father's old foreman, whom he knew to be somewhere +in the army; doubtless the same man. Unquestionably, he +thought, that was the reason he was so attracted to it; but +why he should take up the delicate little missive, scan it +again and again, hold it in his hand with the same touch +with which he would have pressed a rare flower, and lay it +down as reluctantly as he would have yielded a known and +visible treasure,—that was the mystery. He had never seen +Francesca's writing, but he stood possessed, almost assured, +of the belief that this letter was penned by her hand; and +at last parted with it slowly and unwillingly, as though it +were the dear hand of which he mused; then took himself +to task for this boyish weakness and folly. Nevertheless, he +went in pursuit of Jim, not to question him,—he was too +thorough a gentleman for that,—but led on partly by his +desire to see a familiar face, partly by this folly, as he called +it with a sort of amused disdain.</p> + +<p>Folly, however, it was not, save in such measure as the +subtle telegraphings between spirit and spirit can be thus +called. Unjustly so called they are, constantly; it being the +habit of most people to denounce as heresy or ridicule as +madness things too high for their sight or too deep for +their comprehension. As these people would say, "oddly +enough," or "by an extraordinary coincidence," this very +letter was from Miss Ercildoune,—a letter which she wrote +as she purposed, and as she well knew how to write, in +behalf of Sallie. It was ostensibly on quite another theme; +asking some information in regard to a comrade, but so +cunningly devised and executed as to tell him in few +words, and unsuspiciously, some news of Sallie,—news +which she knew would delight his heart, and overthrow +the little barrier which had stood between them, making +both miserable, but which he would not, and she could +not, clamber over or destroy. It did its work effectually, and +made two hearts thoroughly happy,—this letter which had +so strangely bewitched Surrey; which, in his heart, spite of +the ridicule of his reason, he was so sure was hers; and +which, indeed, was hers, though he knew not that till long +afterward.</p> + +<p>"So," he thought, as he went through the camp, "Given +is here, and near. I shall be glad to see a face from home, +whatever kind of a face it may be, and Given's is a good +one; it will be a pleasant rememberance."</p> + +<p>"Whither away?" called a voice behind him.</p> + +<p>"To the 29th," he answered the questioner, one of his +officers and friends, who, coming up, took his arm,—"in +pursuit of a man."</p> + +<p>"What's his name?"</p> + +<p>"Given,—christened James. What are you laughing at? +do you know him?"</p> + +<p>"No, I don't know him, but I've heard some funny stories +about him; he's a queer stick, I should think."</p> + +<p>"Something in that way.—Helloa! Brooks, back +again?" to a fine, frank-looking young fellow,—"and were +you successful?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, to both your questions. In addition I'll say, for +your rejoicing, that I give in, cave, subside, have nothing +more to say against your pet theory,—from this moment +swear myself a rank abolitionist, or anything else you +please, now and forever,—so help me all ye black gods and +goddesses!"</p> + +<p>"Phew! what's all this?" cried Whittlesly, from the +other side of his Colonel; "what are you driving at? I'll +defy anybody to make head or tail of that answer."</p> + +<p>"Surrey understands."</p> + +<p>"Not I; your riddle's too much for me."</p> + +<p>"Didn't you go in pursuit of a dead man?" queried +Whittlesly.</p> + +<p>"Just that."</p> + +<p>"Did the dead man convert you?"</p> + +<p>"No, Colonel, not precisely. And yet yes, too; that is, I +suppose I shouldn't have been converted if he hadn't died, +and I gone in search of him."</p> + +<p>"I believe it; you're such an obstinate case that you +need one raised from the dead to have any effect on you."</p> + +<p>"Obstinate! O, hear the pig-headed fellow talk! You're +a beauty to discourse on that point, aren't you!"</p> + +<p>"Surrey laughed, and stopped at the call of one of his +men, who hailed him as he went by. Evidently a favorite +here as in New York, in camp as at home; for in a moment +he was surrounded by the men, who crowded about him, +each with a question, or remark, to draw special attention +to himself, and a word or smile from his commander. +Whatever complaint they had to enter, or petition to +make, or favor to beg, or wish to urge, whatever help they +wanted or information they desired, was brought to him to +solve or to grant, and—never being repulsed by their +officer—they speedily knew and loved their friend. Thus +it was that the two men standing at a little distance, +watching the proceeding, were greatly amused at the +motley drafts made upon his attention in the shape of +tents, shoes, coats, letters to be sent or received, books +borrowed and lent, a man sick, or a chicken captured. +They brought their interests and cares to him,—these big, +brown fellows,—as though they were children, and he a +parent well beloved.</p> + +<p>"One might think him the father of the regiment," +said Brooks, with a smile.</p> + +<p>"The mother, more like: it must be the woman element +in him these fellows feel and love so."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps; but it would have another effect on them, if, +for instance, he didn't carry that sabre-slash on his hand. +They've seen him under steel and fire, and know where +he's led them."</p> + +<p>"What is this you were joking about with him, a while +ago?"</p> + +<p>"What! about turning abolitionist?"</p> + +<p>"Precisely."</p> + +<p>"O, you know he's rampant on the slavery question. I +believe it's the only thing he ever loses his temper over, and +he has lost it with me more than once. I've always been a +rank heretic with regard to Cuffee, and the result was, we +disagreed."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know. But what connection has that with your +expedition?"</p> + +<p>"Just what I want to know," added Surrey, coming up +at the moment.</p> + +<p>"Ah! you're in time to hear the confession, are you?"</p> + +<p>"'An honest confession—'You know what the wise +man says."</p> + +<p>"Come, don't flatter yourself we will think you so +because you quote him. Be quiet, both of you, and let me +go on to tell my tale."</p> + +<p>"Attention!"</p> + +<p>"Proceed!"</p> + +<p>"Thus, then. You understand what my errand was?"</p> + +<p>"Not exactly; Lieutenant Hunt was drowned somewhere, +wasn't he?"</p> + +<p>"Yes: fell overboard from a tug; the men on board tried +to save him, and then to recover his body, and couldn't do +either. Some of his people came down here in pursuit of +it, and I was detailed with a squad to help them in their +search.</p> + +<p>"Well, the naval officers gave us every facility in their +power; the river was dragged twice over, and the woods +along-shore ransacked, hoping it might have been washed +in and, maybe, buried; but there wasn't sight or trace of it. +While we were hunting round we stumbled on a couple of +darkies, who told us, after a bit of questioning, that darky +number three, somewhere about, had found the body of a +Federal officer on the river bank, and buried it. On that +hint we acted, posted over to the fellow's shanty, and +found, not him, but his wife, who was ready enough to tell +us all she knew. She showed us some traps of the buried +officer, among them a pair of spurs, which his brother recognized +directly. When she was quite sure that we were all +correct, and that the thing had fallen into the right hands, +she fished out of some safe corner his wallet, with fifty-seven +dollars in it. I confess I stared, for they were slaves, +both of them, and evidently poor as Job's turkey, and it has +always been one of my theories that a nigger invariably +steals when he gets a chance. However, I wasn't going to +give in at that."</p> + +<p>"Of course you weren't," said the Colonel. "Did you +ever read about the man who was told that the facts did +not sustain his theory, and of his sublime answer? 'Very +well,' said he, 'so much the worse for the facts!'"</p> + +<p>"Come, Colonel, you talk too much. How am I ever +to get on with my narrative, if you keep interrupting me +in this style? Be quiet."</p> + +<p>"Word of command. Quiet. Quiet it is. Continue."</p> + +<p>"No, I said, of course they expect some reward,—that's +it."</p> + +<p>"What an ass you must be!" broke in Whittlesly.</p> + +<p>"Hadn't you sense enough to see they could keep the +whole of it, and nobody the wiser? and of course they +couldn't have supposed any one was coming after it,—could +they?</p> + +<p>"How am I to know what they thought? If you don't +stop your comments, I'll stop the story; take your choice."</p> + +<p>"All right: go ahead."</p> + +<p>"While I was considering the case, in came the master +of the mansion,—a thin, stooped, tired-looking little +fellow,—'Sam,' he told us, was his name; then proceeded to +narrate how he had found the body, and knew the uniform, +and was kind and tender with it because of its dress, 'for you +see, sah, we darkies is all Union folks'; how he had brought +it up in the night, for fear of his Secesh master, and made a +coffin for it, and buried it decently. After that he took us out +to a little spot of fresh earth, covered with leaves and twigs, +and, digging down, we came to a rough pine box made as +well as the poor fellow knew how to put it together. +Opening it, we found all that was left of poor Hunt, +respectably clad in a coarse, clean white garment which +Sam's wife had made as nicely as she could out of her one +pair of sheets. 'It wa'n't much,' said the good soul, with tears +in her eyes, 'it wa'n't much we's could do for him, but I +washed him, and dressed him, peart as I could, and Sam and +me, we buried him. We wished, both on us, that we could +have done heaps more for him, but we did all that we +could,'—which, indeed, was plain enough to be seen.</p> + +<p>"Before we went away, Sam brought from a little hole, +which he burrowed in the floor of his cabin, a something, +done up in dirty old rags; and when we opened it, what +under the heavens do you suppose we found? You'll never +guess. Three hundred dollars in bank-bills, and some +important papers, which he had taken and hid,—concealed +them even from his wife, because, he said, the +guerillas often came round, and they might frighten her +into giving them up if she knew they were there.</p> + +<p>"I collapsed at that, and stood with open mouth, +watching for the next proceeding. I knew there was to be +some more of it, and there was. Hunt's brother offered +back half the money; <i>offered</i> it! why, he tried to force it on +the fellow, and couldn't. His master wouldn't let him buy +himself and his wife,—I suspect, out of sheer cussedness,—and +he hadn't any other use for money, he said. +Besides, he didn't want to take, and wouldn't take, anything +that looked like pay for doing aught for a 'Linkum +sojer,' alive or dead.</p> + +<p>"'They'se going to make us all free, sometime,' he said, +'that's enough. Don't look like it, jest yet, I knows; but I +lives in faith; it'll come byumby' When the fellow said that, +I declare to you, Surrey, I felt like hiding my face. At last +I began to comprehend what your indignation meant +against the order forbidding slaves coming into our lines, +and commanding their return when they succeed in +entering. Just then we all seemed to me meaner than dirt."</p> + +<p>"As we are; and, as dirt, deserve to be trampled underfoot, +beaten, defeated, till we're ready to stand up and fight +like men in this struggle."</p> + +<p>"Amen to that, Colonel," added Whittlesly.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm pretty nearly ready to say so myself," finished +Brooks, half reluctantly.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<p> +"<i>The best-laid schemes o' mice and men</i><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;"><i>Gang aft agley.</i>"</span><br /> +<br /> +BURNS<br /><br /><br /> +</p> + + +<p>They didn't find Jim in the camp of his regiment, +so went up to head-quarters to institute inquiries.</p> + +<p>"Given?" a little thought and investigation. "Oh! Given +is out on picket duty."</p> + +<p>"Whereabouts?"</p> + +<p>The direction indicated. "Thanks! we'll find him."</p> + +<p>Having commenced the search, Surrey was determined to +end it ere he turned back, and his two friends bore him +company. As they came down the road, they saw in the +distance a great stalwart fellow, red-shirted and conspicuous, +evidently absorbed in some singular task,—what +they did not perceive, till, coming to closer quarters, they +discovered, perched by his side, a tin cup filled with soap-suds, +a pipe in his mouth, and that by the help of the two +he was regaling himself with the pastime of blowing +bubbles.</p> + +<p>"I'll wager that's Jim," said Surrey, before he saw his +face.</p> + +<p>"It's like him, certainly: from what I've heard of him, +I think he would die outright if he couldn't amuse himself +in some shape."</p> + +<p>"Why, the fellow must be a curiosity worth coming +here to see."</p> + +<p>"Pretty nearly."</p> + +<p>Surrey walked on a little in advance, and tapped him +on the shoulder. Down came the pipe, up went the hand +in a respectful military salute, but before it was finished he +saw who was before him.</p> + +<p>"Wow!" he exclaimed, "if it ain't Mr. Willie Surrey. +My! Ain't I glad to see you? How <i>do</i> you do? The sight of +you is as good as a month's pay."</p> + +<p>"Come, Given, don't stun me with compliments," +cried Surrey, laughing and putting out his hand to grasp +the big, red paw that came to meet it, and shake it heartily. +"If I'd known you were over here, I'd have found you +before, though my regiment hasn't been down here long."</p> + +<p>Jim at that looked sharply at the "eagles," and then over +the alert, graceful person, finishing his inspection with an +approving nod, and the emphatic declaration, "Well, if I +know what's what, and I rayther reckon I do, you're about +the right figger for an officer, and on the whole I'd sooner +pull off my cap to you than any other fellow I've seen +round,"—bringing his hand once more to the salute.</p> + +<p>"Why, Jim, you have turned courtier; army life is +spoiling you," protested the inspected one; protesting,—yet +pleased, as any one might have been, at the evidently sincere +admiration.</p> + +<p>"Nary time," Jim strenuously denied; and, these little +courtesies being ended, they talked about enlistment, and +home, and camp, and a score of things that interested +officer and man alike. In the midst of the confab a dust was +seen up the road, coming nearer, and presently out of it +appeared a family carriage somewhat dilapidated and +worse for wear, but still quite magnificent; enthroned on +the back seat a fullblown F.F.V. with rather more than the +ordinary measure of superciliousness belonging to his race; +driven, of course, by his colored servant. Jim made for the +middle of the road, and, holding his bayonet in such wise +as to threaten at one charge horse, negro, and chivalry, +roared out, "Tickets!"</p> + +<p>At such an extraordinary and unceremonious demand +the knight flushed angrily, frowned, made an expressive +gesture with his lips and his nose which suggestively indicated +that there was something offensive in the air between +the wind and his gentility, ending the pantomime by +finding a pass and handing it over to his "nigger," then—not +deigning to speak—motioned him and it to the threatening +figure. As this black man came forward, Brooks, looking at +him a moment, cried excitedly, "By Jove! it's Sam."</p> + +<p>"No? Hunt's Sam?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, the very same; and I suppose that's his cantankerous +old master."</p> + +<p>Surrey ran forward to Jim, for the three had fallen back +when the carriage came near, and said a few sentences to +him quickly and earnestly.</p> + +<p>"All right, Colonel! just as you please," he replied. +"You leave it to me; I'll fix him." Then, turning to Sam, +who stood waiting, demanded, "Well, have you got it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, massa."</p> + +<p>"Fork over,"—and looking at it a moment pronounced +"All right! Move on!" elucidating the remark by a jerk at +the coat-collar of the unsuspecting Sam, which sent him +whirling up the road at a fine but uncomfortable rate of +speed.</p> + +<p>"Now, sir, what do you want?" addressing the +astounded chevalier, who sat speechlessly observant of this +unlooked-for proceeding.</p> + +<p>"Want?" cried the irate Virginian, his anger loosening +his tongue, "want? I want to go on, of course; that was my +pass."</p> + +<p>"Was it now? I want to know! that's singular! Why +didn't you offer it yourself then?"</p> + +<p>"Because I thought my nigger a fitter person to parley +with a Lincoln vandal," loftily responded his eminence.</p> + +<p>"That's kind of you, I'm sure. Sorry I can't oblige you +in return,—very; but you'll just have to turn tail and drive +back again. That bit of paper says 'Pass the bearer,' and the +bearer's already passed. You can't get two men through this +picket on one man's pass, not if one is a nigger and t'other +a skunk; so, sir, face about, march!"</p> + +<p>This was an unprepared-for dilemma. Mr. V. looked at +the face of the "Lincoln vandal," but saw there no sign of +relenting; then into the distance whither he was anxiously +desirous to tend; glanced reflectively at the bayonet in the +centre and the narrow space on either side the road; and +finally called to his black man to come back.</p> + +<p>Sam approached with reluctance, and fell back with +alacrity when the glittering steel was brandished towards +his own breast.</p> + +<p>"Where's your pass, sirrah?" demanded Jim, with +asperity.</p> + +<p>"Here, massa," said the chattel, presenting the same one +which had already been examined.</p> + +<p>"Won't do," said Jim. "Can't come that game over this +child. That passes you to Fairfax,—can't get any one from +Fairfax on that ticket. Come," flourishing the shooting-stick +once more, "move along"; which Sam proceeded to +do with extraordinary readiness.</p> + +<p>"Now, sir," turning to the again speechless chevalier, "if +you stay here any longer, I shall take you under arrest to +head-quarters: consequently, you'd better accept the advice +of a disinterested friend, and make tracks, lively."</p> + +<p>By this time the scion of a latter-day chivalry seemed +to comprehend the situation, seized his lines, wheeled +about, and went off at a spanking trot over the "sacred +soil,"—Jim shouting after him, "I say, Mr. F.F.V. if you +meet any 'Lincoln vandals,' just give them my respects, will +you?" to which as the knight gave no answer, we are left in +doubt to this day whether Given's commission was ever +executed.</p> + +<p>"There! my mind's relieved on that point," announced +Jim, wiping his face with one hand and shaking the other +after the retreating dust. "Mean old scoot! I'll teach him to +insult one of our boys,—'Lincoln vandals' indeed! I'd like +to have whanged him!" with a final shake and a final +explosion, cooling off as rapidly as he had heated, and +continuing the interrupted conversation with recovered +temper and <i>sangfroid</i>.</p> + +<p>He was delighted at meeting Surrey, and Surrey was +equally glad to see once more his old favorite, for Jim and +he had been great friends when he was a little boy and had +watched the big boy at work in his father's foundry,—a +favoritism which, spite of years and changes, and wide +distinctions of social position, had never altered nor cooled, +and which showed itself now in many a pleasant shape and +fashion so long as they were near together.</p> + +<p>They aided and abetted one another in more ways than +one. Jim at Surrey's request, and by a plan of his proposing, +succeeded in getting Sam's wife away from her home,—not +from any liking for the expedition, or interest in either +of the "niggers," as he stoutly asserted, but solely to please +the Colonel. If that, indeed, were his only purpose, he +succeeded to a charm, for when Surrey saw the two reunited, +safe from the awful clutch of slavery, supplied with +ample means for the journey and the settlement thereafter, +and on their way to a good Northern home, he was more +than pleased,—he was rejoiced, and said, "Thank God!" +with all his heart, and reverently, as he watched them away.</p> + +<p>Before the summer ended Jim was down with what he +called "a scratch"; a pretty ugly wound, the surgeon +thought it, and the Colonel remembered and looked after +him with unflagging interest and zeal. Many a book and +paper, many a cooling drink and bit of fruit delicious to the +parched throat and fevered lips, found their way to the little +table by his side. Surrey was never too busy by reason of his +duties, or among his own sick and wounded men, to find +time for a chat, or a scrap of reading, or to write a letter for +the prostrate and helpless fellow, who suffered without +complaining, as, indeed, they did all about him, only +relieving himself now and then by a suppressed growl.</p> + +<p>And so, with occasional episodes of individual interest, +with marches and fightings, with extremes of heat and +cold, of triumph and defeat, the long months wore away. +These men were soldiers, each in his place in the great war +with the record of which all the world is familiar, a tale +written in blood, and flame, and tears,—terrible, yet +heroic; ghastly, yet sublime. As soldiers in such a conflict, +they did their duty and noble endeavor,—Jim, a nameless +private in the ranks,—Surrey, not braver perchance, but so +conspicuous with all the elements which fit for splendid +command, so fortunate in opportunities for their display, +so eminent in seizing them and using them to their fullest +extent, regardless of danger and death, as to make his name +known and honored by all who watched the progress of +the fight, read its record with interest, and knew its heroes +and leaders with pride and love.</p> + +<p>In the winter of '63 Jim's regiment was ordered away +to South Carolina; and he who at parting looked with keen +regret on the face of the man who had been so faithful and +well tried a friend, would have looked upon it with something +deeper and sadder, could he at the same time have +gazed a little way into the future, and seen what it held in +store for him.</p> + +<p>Four months after he marched away, Surrey's brigade +was in that awful fight and carnage of Chancellorsville, +where men fought like gods to counteract the blunders, +and retrieve the disaster, induced by a stunned and helpless +brain. There was he stricken down, at the head of his +command, covered with dust and smoke; twice wounded, +yet refusing to leave the field,—his head bound with a +handkerchief, his eyes blazing like stars beneath its stained +folds, his voice cheering on his men; three horses shot +under him; on foot then; contending for every inch of the +ground he was compelled to yield; giving way only as he +was forced at the point of the bayonet; his men eager to +emulate him, to follow him into the jaws of death, to fall +by his side,—thus was he prostrated; not dead, as they +thought and feared when they seized him and bore him at +last from the field, but insensible, bleeding with frightful +abundance, his right arm shattered to fragments; not dead, +yet at death's door—and looking in.</p> + +<p>May blossoms had dropped, and June harvests were +ripe on all the fields, ere he could take advantage of the +unsolicited leave, and go home. Home—for which his +heart longed!</p> + +<p>He was not, however, in too great haste to stop by the +way, to pause in Washington, and do what he had sooner +intended to accomplish,—solicit, as a special favor to himself, +as an honor justly won by the man for whom he +entreated it, a promotion for Jim. "It is impossible now," he +was informed, "but the case should be noted and remembered. +If anything could certainly secure the man an +advance, it was the advocacy of General Surrey"; and so, +not quite content, but still satisfied that Jim's time was in +the near future, he went on his way.</p> + +<p>As the cars approached Philadelphia his heart beat so +fast that it almost stifled him, and he leaned against the +window heavily for air and support. It was useless to reason +with himself, vain to call good judgment to his counsels +and summon wisdom to his aid. This was her home. +Somewhere in this city to which he was so rapidly hastening, +she was moving up and down, had her being, was +living and loving. After these long years his eyes so ached +to see her, his heart was so hungry for her presence, that it +seemed to him as though the sheer longing would call her +out of her retreat, on to the streets through which he must +pass, across his path, into the sight of his eyes and reach of +his hand. He had thought that he felt all this before. He +found, as the space diminished between them,—as, perchance, +she was but a stone's throw from his side,—that the +pain, and the longing, and the intolerable desire to behold +her once again, increased a hundred-fold.</p> + +<p>Eager as he had been a little while before to reach his +home, he was content to remain quietly here now. He +laughed at himself as he stepped into a carriage, and, tired +as he was,—for his amputated arm, not yet thoroughly +healed, made him weak and worn,—drove through all the +afternoon and evening, across miles and miles of heated, +wearisome stones, possessed by the idea that somewhere, +somehow, he should see her, he would find her before his +quest was done.</p> + +<p>After that last painful rebuff, he did not dare to go to +her home, could he find it, till he had secured from her, in +some fashion, a word or sign. "This," he said, "is certainly +doubly absurd, since she does not live in the city; but she +is here to-day, I know,—she must be here"; and persisted +in his endeavor,—persisted, naturally, in vain; and went to +bed, at last, exhausted; determined that to-morrow should +find him on his journey farther north, whatever wish +might plead for delay, yet with a final cry for her from the +depths of his soul, as he stretched out his solitary arm, ere +sinking to restless sleep, and dreams of battle and death—sleep +unrefreshing, and dreams ill-omened; as he thought, +again and again, rousing himself from their hold, and +looking out to the night, impatient for the break of day.</p> + +<p>When day broke he was unable to rise with its dawn. +The effect of all this tension on his already overtaxed +nerves was to induce a fever in the unhealed arm, which, +though not painful, was yet sufficient to hold him close +prisoner for several days; a delay which chafed him, and +which filled his family at home with an intolerable anxiety, +not that they knew its cause,—<i>that</i> would have been a +relief,—but that they conjectured another, to them infinitely +worse than sickness or suffering, bad and sorrowful +as were these.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<p> +"<i>Gentlemen, let not prejudice prepossess you.</i>"<br /> +<br /> +IZAAK WALTON<br /><br /><br /> +</p> + + +<p>Car No. 14, Fifth Street line, Philadelphia, was +crowded. Travelling bags, shawls, and dusters +marked that people were making for the 11 A.M. New York +train, Kensington depot. One pleasant-looking old gentleman +whose face shone under a broad brim, and whose +cleanly drabs were brought into distasteful proximity with +the garments of a drunken coal-heaver, after a vain effort +to edge away, relieved his mind by turning to his neighbor +with the statement, "Consistency is a jewel."</p> + +<p>"Undoubtedly true, Mr. Greenleaf," answered the +neighbor, "but what caused the remark?"</p> + +<p>"That,"—looking with mild disgust at the dirty and +ragged leg sitting by his own. "Here's this filthy fellow, a +nuisance to everybody near him, can ride in these cars, and +a nice, respectable colored person can't. So I couldn't help +thinking, and saying, that consistency is a jewel."</p> + +<p>"Well, it's a shame,—that's a fact; but of course nobody +can interfere if the companies don't choose to let them +ride; it's their concern, not ours."</p> + +<p>"There's a fine specimen now, out there on the sidewalk." +The fine specimen was a large, powerfully made +man, black as ebony, dressed in army blouse and trousers, +one leg gone,—evidently very tired, for he leaned heavily +on his crutches. The conductor, a kindly-faced young +fellow, pulled the strap, and helped him on to the platform +with a peremptory "Move up front, there!" to the people +standing inside.</p> + +<p>"Why!" exclaimed the old Friend,—"do my eyes +deceive me?" Then getting up, and taking the man by the +arm, he seated him in his own place: "Thou art less able to +stand than I."</p> + +<p>Tears rushed to his eyes as he said, "Thank you, sir! you +are too kind." Evidently he was weak, and as evidently +unaccustomed to find any one "too kind."</p> + +<p>"Thee has on the army blue; has thee been fighting +any?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir!" he answered, promptly.</p> + +<p>"I didn't know black men were in the army; yet thee +has lost a leg. Where did that go?"</p> + +<p>"At Newbern, sir."</p> + +<p>"At Newbern,—ah! long ago? and how did it +happen?"</p> + +<p>"Fourteenth of March, sir. There was a land fight, and +the gunboats came up to the rescue. Some of us black men +were upon board a little schooner that carried one gun. +'Twasn't a great deal we could do with that, but we did the +best we could; and got well peppered in return. This is +what it did for me,"—looking down at the stump.</p> + +<p>"I guess thee is sorry now that thee didn't keep out of +it, isn't thee?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir; no indeed, sir. If I had five hundred legs and +fifty lives, I'd be glad to give them all in such a war as this."</p> + +<p>Here somebody got out; the old Friend sat down; and +the coal-heaver, roused by the stir, lifted himself from his +drunken sleep, and, looking round, saw who was beside +him.</p> + +<p>A vile oath, an angry stare from his bloodshot eyes.</p> + +<p>"Ye ——, what are ye doin' here? out wid ye, +quick!"</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" queried the conductor, who was +collecting somebody's fare.</p> + +<p>"The matther, is it? matther enough! what's this nasty +nagur doin' here? Put him out, can't ye?"</p> + +<p>The conductor took no notice.</p> + +<p>"Conductor!" spoke up a well-dressed man, with the +air and manner of a gentleman, "what does that card say?"</p> + +<p>The conductor looked at the card indicated, upon +which was printed "Colored people not allowed in this +car," legible enough to require less study than he saw fit to +give it. "Well!" he said.</p> + +<p>"Well," was the answer,—"your duty is plain. Put that +fellow out."</p> + +<p>The conductor hesitated,—looked round the car. +Nobody spoke.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry, my man! I hoped there would be no objection +when I let you in; but our orders are strict, and, as the +passengers ain't willing, you'll have to get off,"—jerking +angrily at the bell.</p> + +<p>As the car slackened speed, a young officer, whom +nobody noticed, got on.</p> + +<p>There was a moment's pause as the black man gathered +up his crutches, and raised himself painfully. "Stop!" cried +a thrilling and passionate voice,—"stand still! Of what stuff +are you made to sit here and see a man, mangled and +maimed in <i>your</i> cause and for <i>your</i> defence, insulted and +outraged at the bidding of a drunken boor and a cowardly +traitor?" The voice, the beautiful face, the intensity +burning through both, electrified every soul to which she +appealed. Hands were stretched out to draw back the crippled +soldier; eyes that a moment before were turned away +looked kindly at him; a Babel of voices broke out, "No, +no," "let him stay," "it's a shame," "let him alone, conductor," +"we ain't so bad as that," with more of the same +kind; those who chose not to join in the chorus discreetly +held their peace, and made no attempt to sing out of time +and tune.</p> + +<p>The car started again. The <i>gentleman</i>, furious at the +turn of the tide, cried out, "Ho, ho! here's a pretty +preacher of the gospel of equality! why, ladies and gentlemen, +this high-flyer, who presumes to lecture us, is +nothing but a"—</p> + +<p>The sentence was cut short in mid-career, the insolent +sneer dashed out of his face,—face and form prone on the +floor of the car,—while over him bent and blazed the +young officer, whose entrance, a little while before, +nobody had heeded.</p> + +<p>Spurning the prostrate body at his feet, he turned to +Francesca, for it was she, and stretched out his hand,—his +left hand,—his only one. It was time; all the heat, and passion, +and color, had died out, and she stood there shivering, +a look of suffering in her face.</p> + +<p>"Miss Ercildoune! you are ill,—you need the air,—allow +me!" drawing her hand through his arm, and taking +her out with infinite deference and care.</p> + +<p>"Thank you! a moment's faintness,—it is over now," as +they reached the sidewalk.</p> + +<p>"No, no, you are too ill to walk,—let me get you a carriage."</p> + +<p>Hailing one that was passing by, he put her in, his hand +lingering on hers, lingering on the folds of her dress as he +bent to arrange it; his eyes clinging to her face with a passionate, +woeful tenderness. "It is two years since I saw you, +since I have heard from you," he said, his voice hoarse with +the effort to speak quietly.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she answered, "it is two years." Stooping her +head to write upon a card, her lips moved as if they said +something,—something that seemed like "I must! only +once!" but of course that could not be. "It is my address," +she then said, putting the card in his hand. "I shall be +happy to see you in my own home."</p> + +<p>"This afternoon?" eagerly.</p> + +<p>She hesitated. "Whenever you may call. I thank you +again,—and good morning."</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the car had moved on its course: outwardly, +peaceful enough; inwardly, full of commotion. The conservative +gentleman, gathering himself up from his prone +estate, white with passion and chagrin, saw about him +everywhere looks of scorn, and smiles of derision and +contempt, and fled incontinently from the sight.</p> + +<p>His coal-heaving <i>confrère</i>, left to do battle alone, came +to the charge valiant and unterrified. Another outbreak of +blasphemy and obscenity were the weapons of assault; the +ladies looked shocked, the gentlemen indignant and disgusted.</p> + +<p>"Friend," called the non-resistant broad-brim, beckoning +peremptorily to the conductor,—"friend, come here."</p> + +<p>The conductor came.</p> + +<p>"If colored persons are not permitted to ride, I suppose +it is equally against the rules of the company to allow +nuisances in their cars. Isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"You are right, sir," assented the conductor, upon +whose face a smile of comprehension began to beam.</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't know what thee thinks, or what these +other people think, but I know of no worse nuisance than +a filthy, blasphemous drunkard. There he sits,—remove him."</p> + +<p>There was a perfect shout of laughter and delight; and +before the irate "citizen" comprehended what was +intended, or could throw himself into a pugilistic attitude, +he was seized, <i>sans</i> ceremony, and ignominiously pushed +and hustled from the car; the people therein, black soldier +and all, drawing a long breath of relief, and going on their +way rejoicing. Everybody's eyes were brighter; hearts beat +faster, blood moved more quickly; everybody felt a sense of +elation, and a kindness towards their neighbor and all the +world. A cruel and senseless prejudice had been lost in an +impulse, generous and just; and for a moment the sentiment +which exalted their humanity, vivified and gladdened +their souls.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"<i>The future seemed barred</i></span><br /> +<i>By the corpse of a dead hope.</i>"<br /> +<br /> +OWEN MEREDITH<br /><br /><br /> +</p> + + +<p>So, then, after these long years he had seen her again. +Having seen her, he wondered how he had lived +without her. If the wearisome months seemed endless in +passing, the morning hours were an eternity. "This afternoon?" +he had said. "Be it so," she had answered. He did +not dare to go till then.</p> + +<p>Thinking over the scene of the morning, he scarcely +dared go at all. She had not offered her hand; she had +expressed no pleasure, either by look or word, at meeting +him again. He had forced her to say, "Come": she could +do no less when he had just interfered to save her insult, +and had begged the boon.</p> + +<p>"Insult!" his arm ached to strike another blow, as he +remembered the sentence it had cut short. Of course the +fellow had been drinking, but outrage of her was intolerable, +whatever madness prompted it. The very sun must +shine more brightly, and the wind blow softly, when she +passed by. Ah me! were the whole world what an ardent +lover prays for his mistress, there were no need of death to +enjoy the bliss of heaven.</p> + +<p>What could he say? what do? how find words to speak +the measured feelings of a friend? how control the beatings +of his heart, the passion of his soul, that no sign should +escape to wound or offend her? She had bade him to +silence: was he sufficiently master of himself to strike the +lighter keys without sounding some deep chords that +would jar upon her ear?</p> + +<p>He tried to picture the scene of their second meeting. +He repeated again and again her formal title, Miss Ercildoune, +that he might familiarize his tongue and his ear to +the sound, and not be on the instant betrayed into calling +the name which he so often uttered in his thoughts. He +said over some civil, kindly words of greeting, and endeavored +to call up, and arrange in order, a theme upon which +he should converse. "I shall not dare to be silent," he +thought, "for if I am, my silence will tell the tale; and if +that do not, she will hear it from the throbbings of my +heart. I don't know though,"—he laughed a little, as he +spoke aloud,—bitterly it would have been, had his voice +been capable of bitterness,—"perhaps she will think the +organism of the poor thing has become diseased in camp +and fightings,"—putting his hand up to his throat and +holding the swollen veins, where the blood was beating +furiously.</p> + +<p>Presently he went down stairs and out to the street, in +pursuit of some cut flowers which he found in a little +cellar, a stone's throw from his hotel,—a fresh, damp little +cellar, which smelt, he could not help thinking, like a +grave. Coming out to the sunshine, he shook himself with +disgust. "Faugh!" he thought, "what sick fancies and sentimental +nonsense possess me? I am growing unwholesome. +My dreams of the other night have come back to torment +me in the day. These must put them to flight."</p> + +<p>The fancy which had sent him in pursuit of these +flowers he confessed to be a childish one, but none the less +soothing for that. He had remembered that the first day he +beheld her a nosegay had decorated his button-hole; a fair, +sweet-scented thing which seemed, in some subtle way, +like her. He wanted now just such another,—some +mignonette, and geranium, and a single tea-rosebud. Here +they were,—the very counterparts of those which he had +worn on a brighter and happier day. How like they were! +how changed was he! In some moods he would have +smiled at this bit of girlish folly as he fastened the little +thing over his heart; now, something sounded in his throat +that was pitifully like a sob. Don't smile at him! he was so +young; so impassioned, yet gentle; and then he loved so +utterly with the whole of his great, sore heart.</p> + +<p>By and by the time came to go, and eager, yet fearful, +he went. It was a fresh, beautiful day in early June; and +when the city, with its heat, and dust, and noise, was left +behind, and all the leafy greenness—the soothing quiet of +country sights and country sounds—met his ear and eye, a +curious peace took possession of his soul. It was less the +whisper of hope than the calm of assured reality. For the +moment, unreasonable as it seemed, something made him +blissfully sure of her love, spite of the rebuffs and coldness +she had compelled him to endure.</p> + +<p>"This is the place, sir!" suddenly called his driver, stopping +the horses in front of a stately avenue of trees, and +jumping down to open the gates.</p> + +<p>"You need not drive in; you may wait here."</p> + +<p>This, then, was her home. He took in the exquisite +beauty of the place with a keen pleasure. It was right that +all things sweet and fine should be about her; he had before +known that they were, but it delighted him to see them +with his own eyes. Walking slowly towards the house,—slowly, +for he was both impelled and retarded by the conflicting +feelings that mastered him,—he heard her voice at +a little distance, singing; and directly she came out of a by-path, +and faced him. He need not have feared the meeting; +at least, any display of emotion; she gave no opportunity +for any such thing.</p> + +<p>A frankly extended hand,—an easy "Good afternoon, +Mr. Surrey!" That was all. It was a cool, beautiful room +into which she ushered him; a room filled with an atmosphere +of peace, but which was anything but peaceful to +him. He was restless, nervous; eager and excited, or absent +and still. He determined to master his emotion, and give +no outward sign of the tempest raging within.</p> + +<p>At the instant of this conclusion his eye was caught by +an exquisite portrait miniature upon an easel near him. +Bending over it, taking it into his hands, his eyes went to +and fro from the pictured face to the human one, tracing +the likeness in each. Marking his interest, Francesca said, +"It is my mother."</p> + +<p>"If the eyes were dark, this would be your veritable +image."</p> + +<p>"Or, if mine were blue, I should be a portrait of +mamma, which would be better."</p> + +<p>"Better?"</p> + +<p>"Yes." She was looking at the picture with weary eyes, +which he could not see. "I had rather be the shadow of her +than the reality of myself: an absurd fancy!" she added, +with a smile, suddenly remembering herself.</p> + +<p>"I would it were true!" he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>She looked a surprised inquiry. His thought was, "for +then I should steal you, and wear you always on my heart." +But of course he could speak no such lover's nonsense; so +he said, "Because of the fitness of things; you wished to be +a shadow, which is immaterial, and hence of the substance +of angels."</p> + +<p>Truly he was improving. His effort to betray no love +had led him into a ridiculous compliment. "What an idiot +she will think me to say anything so silly!" he reflected; +while Francesca was thinking, "He has ceased to love me, +or he would not resort to flattery. It is well!" but the pang +that shot through her heart belied the closing thought, +and, glancing at him, the first was denied by the unconscious +expression of his eyes. Seeing that, she directly took +alarm, and commenced to talk upon a score of indifferent +themes.</p> + +<p>He had never seen her in such a mood: gay, witty, +brilliant,—full of a restless sparkle and fire; she would not +speak an earnest word, nor hear one. She flung about bonmots, +and chatted airy persiflage till his heart ached. At +another time, in another condition, he would have been +delighted, dazzled, at this strange display; but not now.</p> + +<p>In some careless fashion the war had been alluded to, +and she spoke of Chancellorsville. "It was there you were +last wounded?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," he answered, not even looking down at the +empty sleeve.</p> + +<p>"It was there you lost your arm?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," he answered again, "I am sorry it was my sword-arm."</p> + +<p>"It was frightful,"—holding her breath. "Do you know +you were reported mortally wounded? worse?"</p> + +<p>"I have heard that I was sent up with the slain," he +replied, half-smiling.</p> + +<p>"It is true. I looked for your name in the columns of +'wounded' and 'missing,' and read it at last in the list of +'killed.'"</p> + +<p>"For the sake of old times, I trust you were a little +sorry to so read it," he said, sadly, for the tone hurt him.</p> + +<p>"Sorry? yes, I was sorry. Who, indeed, of your friends +would not be?"</p> + +<p>"Who, indeed?" he repeated: "I am afraid the one +whose regret I should most desire would sorrow the least."</p> + +<p>"It is very like," she answered, with seeming +carelessness,—"disappointment +is the rule of life."</p> + +<p>This would not do. He was getting upon dangerous +ground. He would change the theme, and prevent any farther +speech till he was better master of it. He begged for +some music. She sat down at once and played for him; then +sang at his desire. Rich as she was in the gifts of nature, her +voice was the chief,—thrilling, flexible, with a sympathetic +quality that in singing pathetic music brought tears, +though the hearer understood not a word of the language +in which she sang. In the old time he had never wearied +listening, and now he besought her to repeat for him some +of the dear, familiar songs. If these held for her any associations, +he did not know it; she gave no outward sign,—sang +to him as sweetly and calmly as to the veriest stranger. +What else had he expected? Nothing; yet, with the unreasonableness +of a lover, was disappointed that nothing +appeared.</p> + +<p>Taking up a piece at random, without pausing to +remember the words, he said, spreading it before her, +"May I tax you a little farther? I am greedy, I know, but +then how can I help it?"</p> + +<p>It was the song of the Princess.</p> + +<p>She hesitated a moment, and half closed the book. +Had he been standing where he could see her face, he +would have been shocked by its pallor. It was over directly: +she recovered herself, and, opening the music with a resolute +air, began to sing:—</p> + +<p> +"Ask me no more: the moon may draw the sea;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The cloud may stoop from heaven and take the shape,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With fold to fold, of mountain and of cape;</span><br /> +But, O too fond, when have I answered thee?<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Ask me no more.</span><br /> +<br /> +"Ask me no more: what answer should I give?<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I love not hollow cheek or faded eye;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Yet, O my friend, I will not have thee die!</span><br /> +Ask me no more, lest I should bid thee live:<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Ask me no more."</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>She sang thus far with a clear, untrembling voice,—so +clear and untrembling as to be almost metallic,—the +restraint she had put upon herself making it unnatural. At +the commencement she had estimated her strength, and +said, "It is sufficient!" but she had overtaxed it, as she found +in singing the last verse:—</p> + +<p> +"Ask me no more: thy fate and mine are sealed;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I strove against the stream and all in vain;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Let the great river take me to the main;</span><br /> +No more, dear love, for at a touch I yield:<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Ask me no more."</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>All the longing, the passion, the prayer of which a +human soul is capable found expression in her voice. It +broke through the affected coldness and calm, as the ocean +breaks through its puny barriers when, after wind and +tempest, all its mighty floods are out. Surrey had changed +his place, and stood fronting her. As the last word fell, she +looked at him, and the two faces saw in each but a reflection +of the same passion and pain: pallid, with eyes burning +from an inward fire,—swayed by the same emotion,—she +bent forward as he, stretching forth his arms, in a stifling +voice cried, "Come!"</p> + +<p>Bent, but for an instant; then, by a superhuman effort, +turned from him, and put out her hand with a gesture of +dissent, though she could not control her voice to speak a +word.</p> + +<p>At that he came close to her, not touching her hand or +even her dress, but looking into her face with imploring +eyes, and whispering, "Francesca, my darling, speak to me! +say that you love me! one word! You are breaking my +heart!"</p> + +<p>Not a word.</p> + +<p>"Francesca!"</p> + +<p>She had mastered her voice. "Go!" she then said, +beseechingly. "Oh, why did you ask me? why did I let you +come?"</p> + +<p>"No, no," he answered. "I cannot go,—not till you +answer me."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" she entreated, "do not ask! I can give no such +answer as you desire. It is all wrong,—all a mistake. You do +not comprehend."</p> + +<p>"Make me, then."</p> + +<p>She was silent.</p> + +<p>"Forgive me. I am rude: I cannot help it. I will not go +unless you say, 'I do not love you.' Nothing but this shall +drive me away."</p> + +<p>Francesca's training in her childhood had been by a +Catholic governess; she never quite lost its effect. Now she +raised her hand to a little gold cross that hung at her neck, +her fingers closing on it with a despairing clasp. "Ah, +Christ, have pity!" her heart cried. "Blessed Mother of +God, forgive me! have mercy upon me!"</p> + +<p>Her face was frightfully pale, but her voice did not +tremble as she gave him her hand, and said gently, "Go, +then, my friend. I do not love you."</p> + +<p>He took her hand, held it close for a moment, and +then, without another look or word, put it tenderly down, +and was gone.</p> + +<p>So absorbed was he in painful thought that, passing +down the long avenue with bent head, he did not notice, +nor even see, a gentleman who, coming from the opposite +direction, looked at him at first carelessly, and then searchingly, +as he went by.</p> + +<p>This gentleman, a man in the prime of life, handsome, +stately, and evidently at home here, scrutinized the stranger +with a singular intensity,—made a movement as though he +would speak to him,—and then, drawing back, went with +hasty steps towards the house.</p> + +<p>Had Willie looked up, beheld this face and its expression, +returned the scrutiny of the one, and comprehended +the meaning of the other, while memory recalled a picture +once held in his hands, some things now obscured would +have been revealed to him, and a problem been solved. As +it was, he saw nothing, moved mechanically onward to the +carriage, seated himself and said, "Home!"</p> + +<p>This young man was neither presumptuous nor vain. +He had been once repulsed and but now utterly rejected. +He had no reason to hope, and yet—perhaps it was his +poetical and imaginative temperament—he could not +resign himself to despair.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he started with an exclamation that was +almost a cry. What was it? He remembered that, more than +two years ago, on the last day he had been with her, he had +begged the copy of a duet which they sometimes sang. It +was in manuscript, and he desired to have it written out by +her own hand. He had before petitioned, and she promised +it; and when he thus again spoke of it, she laughed, and +said, "What a memory it is, to be sure! I shall have to tie a +bit of string on my finger to refresh it."</p> + +<p>"Is that efficacious?" he had asked.</p> + +<p>"Doubtless," she had replied, searching in her pocket +for a scrap of anything that would serve.</p> + +<p>"Will this do?" he then queried, bringing forth a coil +of gold wire which he had been commissioned to buy for +some fanciful work of his mother.</p> + +<p>"Finely," she declared; "it is durable, it will give me a +wide margin, it will be long in wearing out."</p> + +<p>"Nay, then, you must have something more fragile," he +had objected.</p> + +<p>At that they both laughed, as he twisted a fragment of +it on the little finger of her right hand. "There it is to stay," +he asserted, "till your promise is redeemed." That was the +last time he had seen her till to-day.</p> + +<p>Now, sitting, thinking of the interview just passed, +suddenly he remembered, as one often recalls the vision of +something seemingly unnoticed at the time, that, upon her +right hand, the little finger of the right hand, there was a +delicate ring,—a mere thread,—in fact, a wire of gold; the +very one himself had tied there two years ago.</p> + +<p>In an instant, by one of those inexplicable connections +of the brain or soul, he found himself living over an experience +of his college youth.</p> + +<p>He had been spending the day in Boston with a dear +friend, some score of years his senior; a man of the rarest +culture, and of a most sweet and gentle nature withal; and +when evening came they had drifted naturally to the theatre,—the +fool's paradise it may be sometimes, but to them +on that occasion a real paradise.</p> + +<p>He remembered well the play. It was Scott's <i>Bride of +Lammermoor</i>. He had never read it, but, before the curtain +rose, his friend had unfolded the story in so kind and +skilful a manner as to have imbued him as fully with the +spirit of the tale as though he had studied the book.</p> + +<p>What he chiefly recalled in the play was the scene in +which Ravenswood comes back to Emily long after they +had been plighted,—long after he had supposed her faithless,—long +after he had been tossed on a sea of troubles, +touching the seeming decay in her affections. Just as she is +about to be enveloped in the toils which were spread for +her,—just as she is about to surrender herself to the hated +nuptials, and submit to the embrace of one whom she +loathed more than she dreaded death,—Ravenswood, the +man whom Heaven had made for her, presents himself.</p> + +<p>What followed was quiet, yet intensely dramatic. +Ravenswood, wrought to the verge of despair, bursts upon +the scene at the critical moment, detaches Emily from her +party, and leads her slowly forward. He is unutterably sad. +He questions her very tenderly; asks her whether she is not +enforced; whether she is taking this step of her own free +will and accord; whether she has indeed dismissed the dear, +old fond love for him from her heart forever? He must hear +it from her own lips. When timidly and feebly informed +that such is indeed the case, he requests her to return a certain +memento,—a silver trinket which had been given her +as the symbol of his love on the occasion of their +betrothal. Raising her hand to her throat she essays to draw +it from her bosom. Her fingers rest upon the chain which +binds it to her neck, but the o'erfraught heart is still,—the +troubled, but unconscious head droops upon his +shoulder,—he lifts the chain from its resting-place, and +withdraws the token from her heart.</p> + +<p>Supporting her with one hand and holding this badge +of a lost love with the other, he says, looking down upon +her with a face of anguish, and in a voice of despair, "<i>And +she could wear it thus!</i>"</p> + +<p>As this scene rose and lived before him, Surrey +exclaimed, "Surely that must have been the perfection of +art, to have produced an effect so lasting and profound,—'and +she could wear it thus!'—ah," he said, as in response +to some unexpressed thought, "but Emily loved +Ravenswood. Why—?" Evidently he was endeavoring to +answer a question that baffled him.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<p> +"<i>And down on aching heart and brain</i><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><i>Blow after blow unbroken falls.</i>"</span><br /> +<br /> +BOKER<br /><br /><br /> +</p> + + +<p>"A letter for you, sir," said the clerk, as Surrey +stopped at the desk for his key. It was a +bulky epistle, addressed in his aunt Russell's hand, and he +carried it off, wondering what she could have to say at +such length.</p> + +<p>He was in no mood to read or to enjoy; but, nevertheless, +tore open the cover, finding within it a double +letter. Taking the envelope of one from the folds of the +other, his eye fell first upon his mother's writing; a short +note and a puzzling one.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"My dear Willie:—</p> + +<p>"I have tried to write you a letter, but cannot. I never +wounded you if I could avoid it, and I do not wish to +begin now. Augusta and I had a talk about you yesterday +which crazed me with anxiety. She told me it was my place +to write you what ought to be said under these trying circumstances, +for we are sure you have remained in Philadelphia +to see Miss Ercildoune. At first I said I would, and +then my heart failed me. I was sure, too, that she could +write, as she always does, much better than I; so I begged +her to say all that was necessary, and I would send her this +note to enclose with her letter. Read it, I entreat you, and +then hasten, I pray you, hasten to us at once.</p> + +<p>"Take care of your arm, do not hurt yourself by any +excitement; and, with dear love from your father, which he +would send did he know I was writing, believe me always +your devoted</p> + +<p>"MOTHER."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"'Trying circumstances!'—'Miss Ercildoune!'—what +does it mean?" he cried, bewildered. "Come, let us see."</p> + +<p>The letter which he now opened was an old and +much-fingered one, written—as he saw at the first +glance—by his aunt to his mother. Why it was sent to him +he could not conjecture; and, without attempting to so do, +at once plunged into its pages:—</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p> +"CONTINENTAL HOTEL,<br /> +PHILADELPHIA, JUNE 27, 1861<br /> +<br /> +"MY DEAR LAURA:—<br /> +</p> + +<p>"I can readily understand with what astonishment you +will read this letter, from the amazement I have experienced +in collecting its details. I will not weary you with +any personal narration, but tell my tale at once.</p> + +<p>"Miss Ercildoune, as you know, was my daughter's +intimate at school,—a school, the admittance to which was +of itself a guarantee of respectability. Of course I knew +nothing of her family, nor of her,—save as Clara wrote me +of her beauty and her accomplishments, and, above all, of +her style,—till I met Mrs. Lancaster. Of her it is needless +for me to speak. As you know, she is irreproachable, and +her position is of the best. Consequently when Clara +wrote me that her friend was to come to New York to her +aunt, and begged to entertain her for a while, I added my +request to her entreaty, and Miss Ercildoune came. Ill-fated +visit! would it had never been made!</p> + +<p>"It is useless now to deny her gifts and graces. They +are, reluctantly I confess, so rare and so conspicuous—have +so many times been seen, and known, and praised by us +all,—that it would put me in the most foolish of attitudes +should I attempt to reconsider a verdict so frequently pronounced, +or to eat my own words, uttered a thousand times.</p> + +<p>"It is also, I presume, useless to deny that we were well +pleased—nay, delighted—with Willie's evident sentiment +for her. Indeed, so thoroughly did she charm me, that, had +I not seen how absolutely his heart was enlisted in her pursuit, +she is the very girl whom I should have selected, +could I have so done, as a wife for Tom and a daughter for +myself.</p> + +<p>"I knew full well how deep was this feeling for her +when he marched away, on that day so full of supreme +splendor and pain, unable to see her and to say adieu. His +eyes, his face, his manner, his very voice, marked his restlessness, +his longing, and disappointment. I was positively +angry with the girl for thwarting and hurting him so, and, +whatever her excuse might be, for her absence at such a +time. How constantly are we quarrelling with our best +fates!</p> + +<p>"She remained in New York, as you know, for some +weeks after the 19th; in fact, has been at home but for a +little while. Once or twice, so provoked with her was I for +disappointing our pet, I could not resist the temptation of +saying some words about him which, if she cared for him, +I knew would wound her: and, indeed, they did,—wounded +her so deeply, as was manifest in her manner and +her face, that I had not the heart to repeat the experiment.</p> + +<p>"One week ago I had a letter from Willie, enclosing +another to her, and an entreaty, as he had written one +which he was sure had miscarried, that I would see that +this reached her hands in safety. So anxious was I to fulfil +his request in its word and its spirit, and so certain that I +could further his cause,—for I was sure this letter was a +love-letter,—that I did not forward it by post, but, being +compelled to come to Burlington, I determined to go on +to Philadelphia, drive out to her home, and myself deliver +the missive into her very hands. A most fortunate conclusion, +as you will presently decide.</p> + +<p>"Last evening I reached the city,—rested, slept here,—and +this morning was driven to her father's place. For all +our sakes, I was somewhat anxious, under the circumstances, +that this should be quite the thing; and I confess +myself, on the instant of its sight, more than satisfied. It is +really superb!—the grounds extensive, and laid out with +the most absolute taste. The house, large and substantial, +looks very like an English mansion; with a certain quaint +style and antique elegance, refreshing to contemplate, after +the crude newness and ostentatious vulgarity of almost +everything one sees here in America. It is within as it is +without. Although a great many lovely things are scattered +about of recent make, the wood-work and the heavy furniture +are aristocratic from their very age, and in their way, +literally perfection.</p> + +<p>"Miss Ercildoune met me with not quite her usual +grace and ease. She was, no doubt, surprised at my unexpected +appearance, and—I then thought, as a consequence—slightly +embarrassed. I soon afterwards discovered the constraint in her +manner sprang from another cause.</p> + +<p>"I had reached the house just at lunch-time, and she +would take me out to the table to eat something with her. +I had hoped to see her father, and was disappointed when +she informed me he was in the city. All I saw charmed me. +The appointments of the table were like those of the +house: everything exquisitely fine, and the silver massive +and old,—not a new piece among it,—and marked with a +monogram and crest.</p> + +<p>"I write you all this that you may the more thoroughly +appreciate my absolute horror at the final <i>denouement</i>, and +share my astonishment at the presumption of these people +in daring to maintain such style.</p> + +<p>"I had given her Willie's letter before we left the +parlor, with a significant word and smile, and was piqued +to see that she did not blush,—in fact, became excessively +white as she glanced at the writing, and with an unsteady +hand put it into her pocket. After lunch she made no +motion to look at it, and as I had my own reasons for +desiring her to peruse it, I said, 'Miss Francesca, will you +not read your letter? that I may know if there is any later +news from our soldier.'</p> + +<p>"She hesitated a moment, and then said, with what I +thought an unnatural manner, 'Certainly, if you so desire,' +and, taking it out, broke the seal. 'Allow me,' she added, +going towards a window,—as though she desired more +light, but in reality, I knew, to turn her back upon me,—forgetting +that a mirror, hanging opposite, would reveal +her face with distinctness to my gaze.</p> + +<p>"It was pale to ghastliness, with a drawn, haggard look +about the mouth and eyes that shocked as much as it +amazed me; and before commencing to read she crushed +the letter in her hands, pressing it to her heart with a gesture +which was less of a caress than of a spasm.</p> + +<p>"However, as she read, all this changed; and before she +finished said, 'Ah, Willie, it is clear your cause needs no +advocate.' Positively, I did not know a human countenance +could express such happiness; there was something in it +absolutely dazzling. And evidently entirely forgetful of me, +she raised the paper to her mouth, and kissed it again and +again, pressing her lips upon it with such clinging and passionate +fondness as would have imbued it with life were +that possible."</p> + +<p>Here Willie flung down his aunt's epistle and tore from +his pocket this self-same letter. He had kept it,—carried it +about with him,—for two reasons: because it was <i>hers</i>, he +said,—this avowal of his love was hers, whether she refused +it or no, and he had no right to destroy her property; and +because, as he had nothing else she had worn or touched, +he cherished this sacredly since it had been in her dear +hands.</p> + +<p>Now he took it into his clasp as tenderly as though it +were Francesca's face, and kissed it with the self-same +clinging and passionate fondness as this of which he had +just read. Here had her lips rested,—here; he felt their fragrance +and softness thrilling him under the cold, dead +paper, and pressed it to his heart while he continued to +read:—</p> + +<p>"Before she turned, I walked to another window,—wishing +to give her time to recover calmness, or at least +self-control, and was at once absorbed in contemplating a +gentleman whom I felt assured to be Mr. Ercildoune. He +stood with his back to me, apparently giving some order +to the coachman: thus I could not see his face, but I never +before was so impressed with, so to speak, the personality +of a man. His physique was grand, and his air and bearing +magnificent, and I watched him with admiration as he +walked slowly away. I presume he passed the window at +which she was standing, for she called, 'Papa!' 'In a +moment, dear,' he answered, and in a moment entered, and +was presented; and I, raising my eyes to his face,—ah, how +can I tell you what sight they beheld!</p> + +<p>"Self-possessed as I think I am, and as I certainly ought +to be, I started back with an involuntary exclamation, a +mingling doubtless of incredulity and disgust. This man, +who stood before me with all the ease and self-assertion of +a gentleman, was—you will never believe it, I fear—<i>a +mulatto</i>!</p> + +<p>"Whatever effect my manner had on him was not perceptible. +He had not seated himself, and, with a smile that +was actually satirical, he bowed, uttered a few words of +greeting, and went out of the room.</p> + +<p>"'How dared you?' I then cried, for astonishment had +given place to rage, 'how dared you deceive me—deceive +us all—so? how dared you palm yourself off as white and +respectable, and thus be admitted to Mr. Hale's school and +to the society and companionship of his pupils?' I could +scarcely control myself when I thought of how shamefully +we had all been cozened.</p> + +<p>"'Pardon me, madam,' she answered with effrontery,—effrontery +under the circumstances,—'you forget yourself, +and what is due from one lady to another.' (Did you ever +hear of such presumption!) 'I practised no deceit upon Professor +Hale. He knew papa well,—was his intimate friend +at college, in England,—and was perfectly aware who was +Mr. Ercildoune's daughter when she was admitted to his +school. For myself, I had no confessions to make, and made +none. I was your daughter's friend; as such, went to her +house, and invited her here. I trust you have seen in me +nothing unbecoming a gentlewoman, as, <i>up to this time</i>, I +have beheld in you naught save the attributes of a lady. If +we are to have any farther conversation, it must be conducted +on the old plan, and not the extraordinary one you +have just adopted; else I shall be compelled, in self-respect, +to leave you alone in my own parlor.'</p> + +<p>"Imagine if you can the effect of this speech upon me. +I assure you I was composed enough outwardly, if not +inwardly, ere she ended her sentence. Having finished, I +said, 'Pardon me, Miss Ercildoune, for any words which +may have offended your dignity. I will confine myself for +the rest of our interview to your own rules!'</p> + +<p>"'It is well,' she responded. I had spoken satirically, and +expected to see her shrink under it, but she answered with +perfect coolness and <i>sang froid</i>. I continued, 'You will not +deny that you are a negro, at least a mulatto.'</p> + +<p>"'Pardon me, madam,' she replied; 'my father is a +mulatto, my mother was an Englishwoman. Thus, to give +you accurate information upon the subject, I am a +quadroon.'</p> + +<p>"'Quadroon be it!' I answered, angrily again, I fear. +'Quadroon, mulatto, or negro, it is all one. I have no desire +to split hairs of definition. You could not be more obnoxious +were you black as Erebus. I have no farther words to +pass upon the past or the present, but something to say of +the future. You hold in your hands a letter—a love-letter, +I am sure—a declaration, as I fear—from my nephew, Mr. +Surrey. You will oblige me by at once sitting down, +writing a peremptory and unqualified refusal to his proposal, +if he has made you one,—a refusal that will admit of +no hope and no double interpretation,—and give it into +my keeping before I leave this room.'</p> + +<p>"When I first alluded to Willie's letter she had crimsoned, +but before I closed she was so white I should have +thought her fainting, but for the fire in her eyes. However, +she spoke up clear enough when she said, 'And what, +madam, if I deny your right to dictate any action whatever +to me, however insignificant, and utterly refuse to obey +your command?'</p> + +<p>"'At your peril do so,' I exclaimed. 'Refuse, and I will +write the whole shameful story, with my own comments; +and you may judge for yourself of the effect it will produce.'</p> + +<p>"At that she smiled,—an indescribable sort of smile,—and +shut her fingers on the letter she held,—I could not +help thinking as though it were a human hand. 'Very well, +madam, write it. He has already told me'—</p> + +<p>"'That he loves you,' I broke in. 'Do you think he +would continue to do so if he knew what you are?'</p> + +<p>"'He knows me as well now,' she answered, 'as he will +after reading any letter of yours.'</p> + +<p>"'Incredible!' I exclaimed. 'When he wrote you that, +he did not know, he could not have known, your birth, +your race, the taint in your blood. I will never believe it.'</p> + +<p>"'No,' she said, 'I did not say he did. I said he knew <i>me</i>; +so well, I think, judging from this,'—clasping his letter +with the same curious pressure I had before noticed,—'that +you could scarcely enlighten him farther. He knows +my heart, and soul, and brain,—as I said, he knows <i>me</i>.'</p> + +<p>"'O, yes,' I answered,—or rather sneered, for I was +uncontrollably indignant through all this,—'if you mean +<i>that</i>, very likely. I am not talking lovers' metaphysics, but +practical common-sense. He does not know the one thing +at present essential for him to know; and he will abandon +you, spurn you,—his love turned to scorn, his passion to +contempt,—when he reads what I shall write him if you +refuse to do what I demand!'</p> + +<p>"I expected to see her cower before me. Conceive, +then, if you can, my sensations when she cried, 'Stop, +madam! Say what you will to me; insult, outrage me, if +you please, and have not the good breeding and dignity to +forbear; but do not presume to so slander him. Do not presume +to accuse him, who is all nobility and greatness of +soul, of a sentiment so base, a prejudice so infamous. Study +him, madam, know him better, ere you attempt to be his +mouth-piece.'</p> + +<p>"As she uttered these words, a horrible foreboding +seized me, or, to speak more truthfully, I so felt the certainty +of what she spoke, that a shudder of terror ran over +me. I thought of him, of his character, of his principles, of +his insane sense of honor, of his terrible will under all that +soft exterior,—the hand of steel under the silken glove; I +saw that if I persisted and she still refused to yield I should +lose all. On the instant I changed my attack.</p> + +<p>"'It is true,' I said, 'having asked you to become his +wife, he will marry you; he will redeem his pledge though +it ruin his life and blast his career, to say nothing of the +effect an unending series of outrages and mortifications +will have upon his temper and his heart. A pretty love, +truly, yours must be,—whatever his is,—to condemn him +to so terrible an ordeal, so frightful a fate.'</p> + +<p>"She shivered at that, and I went on,—blaming my +folly in not remembering, being a woman, that it was with +a woman and her weakness I had to deal.</p> + +<p>"'He is young,' I continued; 'he has probably a long life +before him. Rich, handsome, brilliant,—a magnificent +career opening to him,—position, ease, troops of +friends,—you will ruthlessly ruin all this. Married to you, +white as you are, the peculiarity of your birth would in +some way be speedily known. His father would disinherit +him (it was not necessary to tell her he has a fortune in his +own right), his family disown him, his friends abandon +him, society close its doors upon him, business refuse to +seek him, honor and riches elude his grasp. If you do not +know the strength of this prejudice, which you call infamous, +pre-eminently in the circle to which he belongs, I +cannot tell it you. Taking all this from him, what will you +give him in return? Ruining his life, can your affection +make amends? Blasting his career, will your love fill the +gap? Do you flatter yourself by the supposition that you +can be father, mother, relatives, friends, society, wealth, +position, honor, career,—all,—to him? Your people are +cursed in America, and they transfer their curse to any one +mad enough, or generous enough (that was a diplomatic +turn), to connect his fate with yours.'</p> + +<p>"Before I was through, I saw that I had carried my +point. All the fine airs went out of my lady, and she looked +broken and humbled enough. I might have said less, but I +ached to say more to the insolent.</p> + +<p>"'Enough, madam,' she gasped, 'stop.' And then said, +more to herself than to me, 'I could give heaven for +him,'—the rest I rather guessed from the motion of her lips +than from any sound,—'but I cannot ask him to give the +world for me.'</p> + +<p>"'Will you write the letter?' I asked.</p> + +<p>"'No.'—She said the word with evident effort, and +then, still more slowly, 'I will give you a message. Say "I +implore you never to write me again,—to forget me. I beseech +of you not to try me by any farther appeals, as I shall +but return them unopened."' I wrote down the words as +she spoke them. 'This is well,' I said when she finished; 'but +it is not enough. I must have the letter.'</p> + +<p>"'The letter?' she said. 'What need of a letter? surely +that is sufficient.'</p> + +<p>"'I do not mean your letter. I mean his,—the one +which you hold in your hands.'</p> + +<p>"'This?' she queried, looking down on it,—'this?'</p> + +<p>"I thought the repetition senseless and affected, but I +answered, 'Yes,—that. He will not believe you are in +earnest if you keep his avowal of love. You must give him +up entirely. If you let me send that back, with your words, +he shall never—at least from me—have clew or reason for +your conduct. That will close the whole affair.'</p> + +<p>"'Close the whole affair,' she repeated after me, +mechanically,—'close the whole affair.'</p> + +<p>"I was getting heartily tired of this, and had no desire +to listen to an echo conversation; so, without answering, I +stretched out my hand for it. She held it towards me, then +drew it back and raised it to her heart with the same gesture +I had marked when she first opened it,—a gesture as +I said, of that, which was less of a caress than a spasm. +Indeed, I think now that it was wholly physical and involuntary. +Then she handed it to me, and, motioning towards +the door, said, 'Go!'</p> + +<p>"I rose, and, infamous as I thought her past deceit, +wearied as I was with the interview, small claim as she had +upon me for the slightest consideration, I said 'You have +done well, Miss Ercildoune! I commend you for your sensible +decision, and for your ability, if late, to appreciate the +situation. I wish you all success in life, I am sure; and, +permit me to add, a future union with one of your own +race, if that will bring you happiness.'</p> + +<p>"Heavens! what a face and what eyes she turned upon +me as, rising, she once more pointed to the door, and +cried, 'Go!' And indeed I went,—the girl actually frightened +me.</p> + +<p>"When I got on to the lawn, I missed my bag and +parasol, and had to return for them. I opened the door +with some slight trepidation, but had no need for fear. She +was lying prostrate upon the floor, as I saw on coming +near, in a dead faint. She had evidently fallen so suddenly +and with such force as to have hurt herself; her head had +struck against an ornament of the bookcase, near which +she had been standing; and a little stream of blood was +trickling from her temple. It made me sick to behold it. As +I looked at her where she lay, I could not but pity her a +little, and think what a merciful fate it would be for her, +and such as she, if they could all die,—and so put an end +to what, I presume, though I never before thought of it, is +really a very hard existence.</p> + +<p>"It was no time, however, to sentimentalize. I rang for +a servant, and, having waited till one came, took my leave.</p> + +<p>"Of course all this is very shocking and painful, but I +am glad I came. The matter is ended now in a satisfactory +manner. I think it has been well done. Let us both keep +our counsel, and the affair will soon become a memory +with us, as it is nothing with every one else.</p> + +<p> +"Always your loving sister,<br /> +<br /> +"AUGUSTA."<br /> +</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>It is better to be silent upon some themes than to say +too little. Words would fail to express the emotions with +which Willie read this history: let silence and imagination +tell the tale.</p> + +<p>Flinging down the paper with a passionate cry, he saw +yet another letter,—the one in which these had been +enfolded,—a letter written to him, and by Mrs. Russell. +As by a flash, he perceived that there had been some +blunder here, by which he was the gainer; and, partly at +least, comprehended it.</p> + +<p>These two, mother and aunt, fearing the old fire had +not yet burned to ashes,—nay, from their knowledge of +him, sure of it,—hearing naught of his illness, for he did +not care to distress them by any account thereof, were satisfied +that he had either met, or was remaining to compass +a meeting, with Miss Ercildoune. His mother had not the +courage, or the baseness, to write such a letter as that to +which Mrs. Russell urged her,—a letter which should +degrade his love in his own eyes, and recall him from an +unworthy pursuit. "Very well!" Mrs. Russell had then said, +"It will be better from you; it will look more like unwarranted +interference from me; but I will write, and you shall +send an accompanying line. Let me have it to-morrow."</p> + +<p>The next morning Mrs. Surrey was not well enough +to drive out, and thus sent her note by a servant, enclosing +with it the letter of June 27th,—thinking that her sister +might want it for reference. When it reached Mrs. Russell, +it was almost mail-time, and with the simple thought, +"So,—Laura has written it, after all," she enclosed it in her +own, and sent it off, post-haste; not even looking at the +unsealed envelope, as Mrs. Surrey had taken for granted +she would, and thus failing to know of its double contents.</p> + +<p>Thus the very letter which they would have compassed +land and sea to have prevented coming under his eyes, +unwisely yet most fortunately kept in existence, was sent +by themselves to his hands.</p> + +<p>Without pausing to read a line of that which his aunt +had written him, he tore it into fragments, flung it into the +empty grate; and, bounding down the stairs and on to the +street, plunged into a carriage and was whirled away, all +too slowly, to the home he had left but a little space before +with such widely, such painfully different emotions.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<p> +"<i>I could not love thee, dear, so much,<br /> +Loved I not honor more.</i>"<br /> +<br /> +LOVELACE<br /><br /><br /> +</p> + + +<p>Just after Surrey, for the third time, had passed through +the avenue of trees, two men appeared in it, earnestly +conversing. One, the older, was the same who had met +Willie as he was going out, and had examined him with such +curious interest. The other, in feature, form, and bearing, +was so absolutely the counterpart of his companion that it +was easy to recognize in them father and son,—a father and +son whom it would be hard to match. "The finest type of the +Anglo-Saxon race I have seen from America," was the verdict +pronounced upon Mr. Ercildoune, when he was a +young man studying abroad, by an enthusiastic and nationally +ignorant Englishman; "but then, sir," he added, "what +very dark complexions you Americans have! Is it universal?"</p> + +<p>"By no means, sir," was Mr. Ercildoune's reply. "There +are some exceedingly fine ones among my countrymen. I +come from the South: that is a bad climate for the tint of +the skin."</p> + +<p>"Is it so?" exclaimed John Bull,—"worse than the +North?"</p> + +<p>"Very much worse, sir, in more ways than one."</p> + +<p>Perhaps Robert Ercildoune was a trifle fairer than his +father, but there was still perceptible the shade which +marked him as effectually an outcast from the freedom of +American society, and the rights of American citizenship, +as though it had been the badge of crime or the strait +jacket of a madman. Something of this was manifested in +the conversation in which the two were engaged.</p> + +<p>"It is folly, Robert, for you to carry your refinement +and culture into the ranks as a common soldier, to fight +and to die, without thanks. You are made of too good stuff +to serve simply as food for powder."</p> + +<p>"Better men than I, father, have gone there, and are +there to-day; men in every way superior to me."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps,—yes, if you will have it so. But what are +they? white men, fighting for their own country and flag, +for their own rights of manhood and citizenship, for a present +for themselves and a future for their children, for +honor and fame. What is there for you?"</p> + +<p>"For one thing, just that of which you spoke. Perhaps +not a present for me, but certainly a future for those that +come after."</p> + +<p>"A future! How are you to know? what warrant or +guarantee have you for any such future? Do you judge by +the past? by the signs of to-day? I tell you this American +nation will resort to any means—will pledge anything, by +word or implication—to secure the end for which it fights; +and will break its pledges just so soon as it can, and with +whomsoever it can with impunity. You, and your children, +and your children's children after you, will go to the wall +unless it has need of you in the arena."</p> + +<p>"I do not think so. This whole nation is learning, +through pain and loss, the lesson of justice; of expediency, +doubtless, but still of justice; and I do not think it will be +forgotten when the war is ended. This is our time to wipe +off a thousand stigmas of contempt and reproach: this"—</p> + +<p>"Who is responsible for them? ourselves? What cast +them there? our own actions? I trow not. Mark the facts. I +pay taxes to support the public schools, and am compelled +to have my children educated at home. I pay taxes to support +the government, and am denied any representation or +any voice in regard to the manner in which these taxes +shall be expended. I hail a car on the street, and am +laughed to scorn by the conductor,—or, admitted, at the +order of the passengers am ignominiously expelled. I offer +my money at the door of any place of public amusement, +and it is flung back to me with an oath. I enter a train to +New York, and am banished to the rear seat or the 'negro +car.' I go to a hotel, open for the accommodation of the +public, and am denied access; or am requested to keep my +room, and not show myself in parlor, office, or at table. I +come within a church, to worship the good God who is +no respecter of persons, and am shown out of the door by +one of his insolent creatures. I carry my intelligence to the +polls on election morning, and am elbowed aside by an +American boor or a foreign drunkard, and, with opprobrious +epithets by law officers and rabble, am driven away. +All this in the North; all this without excuse of slavery and +of the feeling it engenders; all this from arrogant hatred +and devilish malignity. At last, the country which has disowned +me, the government which has never recognized +save to outrage me, the flag which has refused to cover or +to protect me, are in direct need and utmost extremity. +Then do they cry for me and mine to come up to their +help ere they perish. At least, they hold forth a bribe to +secure me? at least, if they make no apology for the past, +they offer compensation for the future? at least, they bid +high for the services they desire? Not at all!</p> + +<p>"They say to one man, 'Here is twelve hundred dollars +bounty with which to begin; here is sixteen dollars a month +for pay; here is the law passed, and the money pledged, to +secure you in comfort for the rest of life, if wounded or disabled, +or help for your family, if killed. Here is every door set +wide for you to rise, from post to post; money yours, +advancement yours, honor, and fame, and glory yours; the +love of a grateful country, the applause of an admiring world.'</p> + +<p>"They say to another man,—you, or me, or Sam out +there in the field,—'There is no bounty for you, not a +cent; there is pay for you, twelve dollars a month, the hire +of a servant; there is no pension for you, or your family, if +you be sent back from the front, wounded or dead; if you +are taken prisoner you can be murdered with impunity, or +be sold as a slave, without interference on our part. Fight +like a lion! do acts of courage and splendor! and you shall +never rise above the rank of a private soldier. For you there +is neither money nor honor, rights secured, nor fame +gained. Dying, you fall into a nameless grave: living, you +come back to your old estate of insult and wrong. If you +refuse these tempting offers, we brand you cowards. If, +under these infamous restraints and disadvantages, you fail +to equal the white troops by your side, you are written +down—inferiors. If you equal them, you are still inferiors. +If you perform miracles, and surpass them, you are, in a +measure, worthy commendation at last; we consent to see +in you human beings, fit for mention and admiration,—not +as types of your color and of what you intrinsically are, +but as exceptions; made such by the habit of association, +and the force of surrounding circumstances.'</p> + +<p>"These are the terms the American people offer you, +these the terms which you stoop to accept, these the +proofs that they are learning a lesson of justice! So be it! +there is need. Let them learn it to the full! let this war go +on 'until the cities be wasted without inhabitant, and the +houses without man, and the land be utterly destroyed.' Do +not you interfere. Leave them to the teachings and the +judgments of God."</p> + +<p>Ercildoune had spoken with such impassioned feeling, +with such fire in his eyes, such terrible earnestness in his +voice, that Robert could not, if he would, interrupt him; +and, in the silence, found no words for the instant at his +command. Ere he summoned them they saw some one +approaching.</p> + +<p>"A fine looking fellow! fighting has been no child's +play for him," said Robert, looking, as he spoke, at the +empty sleeve.</p> + +<p>Mr. Ercildoune advanced to meet the stranger, and +Surrey beheld the same face upon whose pictured semblance +he had once gazed with such intense feelings, first +of jealousy, and then of relief and admiration; the same +splendor of life, and beauty, and vitality. Surrey knew him +at once, knew that it was Francesca's father, and went up +to him with extended hand. Mr. Ercildoune took the proffered +hand, and shook it warmly. "I am happy to meet you, +Mr. Surrey."</p> + +<p>"You know me?" said he with surprise. "I thought to +present myself."</p> + +<p>"I have seen your picture."</p> + +<p>"And I yours. They must have held the mirror up to +nature, for the originals to be so easily known. But may I +ask where you saw mine? <i>yours</i> was in Miss Ercildoune's +possession."</p> + +<p>"As was yours," was answered after a moment's hesitation,—Surrey +thought, with visible reluctance. His heart +flew into his throat. "She has my picture,—she has spoken +of me," he said to himself. "I wonder what her father will +think,—what he will do. Come, I will to the point immediately."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Ercildoune," said he, aloud, "you know something +of me? of my position and prospects?"</p> + +<p>"A great deal."</p> + +<p>"I trust, nothing disparaging or ignoble."</p> + +<p>"I know nothing for which any one could desire +oblivion."</p> + +<p>"Thanks. Let me speak to you, then, of a matter which +should have been long since proposed to you had I been +permitted the opportunity. I love your daughter. I cannot +speak about that, but you will understand all that I wish to +say. I have twice—once by letter, once by speech—let her +know this and my desire to call her wife. She has twice +refused,—absolutely. You think this should cut off all +hope?"</p> + +<p>Ercildoune had been watching him closely. "If she +does not love you," he answered, at the pause.</p> + +<p>"I do not know. I went away from here a little while +ago with her peremptory command not to return. I should +not have dared disobey it had I not learned—thought—in +fact, but for some circumstances—I beg your pardon—I +do not know what I am saying. I believed if I saw her once +more I could change her determination,—could induce +her to give me another response,—and came with that +hope."</p> + +<p>"Which has failed?"</p> + +<p>"Which has thus far failed that she will not at all see +me; will hold no communication with me. I should be a +ruffian did I force myself on her thus without excuse or +reason. My own love would be no apology did I not think, +did I not dare to hope, that it is not aversion to me that +induces her to act as she has done. Believing so, may I beg +a favor of you? may I entreat that you will induce her to +see me, if only for a little while?"</p> + +<p>Ercildoune smiled a sad, bitter smile, as he answered, +"Mr. Surrey, if my daughter does not love you, it would +be hopeless for you or for me to assail her refusal. If she +does, she has doubtless rejected you for a reason which you +can read by simply looking into my face. No words of +mine can destroy or do that away."</p> + +<p>"There is nothing to destroy; there is nothing to do +away. Thank you for speaking of it, and making the way +easy. There is nothing in all the wide world between us,—there +can be nothing between us,—if she loves me; +nothing to keep us apart save her indifference or lack of +regard for me. I want to say so to her if she will give me +the chance. Will you not help me to it?"</p> + +<p>"You comprehend all that I mean?"</p> + +<p>"I do. It is, as I have said, nothing. That love would not +be worth the telling that considered extraneous circumstances, +and not the object itself."</p> + +<p>"You have counted all the consequences? I think not. +How, indeed, should you be able? Come with me a +moment." The two went up to the house, across the wide +veranda, into a room half library, half lounging-room, +which, from a score of evidences strewn around, was +plainly the special resort of the master. Over the mantel +hung the life-size portrait of an excessively beautiful +woman. A fine, <i>spirituelle</i> face, with proud lines around the +mouth and delicate nostrils, but with a tender, appealing +look in the eyes, that claimed gentle treatment. This face +said, "I was made for sunshine and balmy airs, but, if darkness +and storm assail, I can walk through them unflinching, +though the progress be short; I can die, and give no sign." +Willie went hastily up to this, and stood, absorbed, before +it. "Francesca is very like her mother," said Ercildoune, +coming to his side. It was his own thought, but he made +no answer.</p> + +<p>"I will tell you something of her and myself; a very +little story; you can draw the moral. My father, who was a +Virginian, sent my brother and me to England when we +were mere boys, to be trained and educated. After his +fashion, doubtless, he loved us; for he saw that we had +every advantage that wealth, and taste, and care could provide; +and though he never sent for us, nor came to us, in +all the years after we left his house,—and though we had +no legal claim upon him,—he acknowledged us his children, +and left us the entire proceeds of his immense estates, +unincumbered. We were so young when we went abroad, +had been so tenderly treated at home, had seen and known +so absolutely nothing of the society about us, that we were +ignorant as Arabs of the state of feeling and prejudice in +America against such as we, who carried any trace of +negro blood. Our treatment in England did but increase +this oblivion.</p> + +<p>"We graduated at Oxford; my brother, who was two +years older than I, waiting upon me that we might go +together through Europe; and together we had three of the +happiest years of life. On the Continent I met <i>her</i>. You see +what she is; you know Francesca: it is useless for me to +attempt to describe her. I loved her,—she loved me,—it +was confessed. In a little while I called her wife; I would, +if I could, tell you of the time that followed: I cannot. We +had a beautiful home, youth, health, riches, friends, happiness, +two noble boys. At last an evil fate brought us to +America. I was to look after some business affairs which, +my agent said, needed personal supervision. My brother, +whose health had failed, was advised to try a sea-voyage, +and change of scene and climate. My wife was enthusiastic +about the glorious Republic,—the great, free America,—the +land of my birth. We came, carrying with us letters +from friends in England, that were an open sesame to the +most jealously barred doors. They flew wide at our +approach, but to be shut with speed when my face was +seen; hands were cordially extended, and drawn back as +from a loathsome contact when mine went to meet them. +In brief, we were outlawed, ostracised, sacrificed on the +altar of this devilish American prejudice,—wholly American, +for it is found nowhere else in the world,—I for my +color, she for connecting her fate with mine.</p> + +<p>"I was so held as to be unable to return at once, and +she would not leave me. Then my brother drooped more +and more. His disease needed the brightest and most +cheerful influences. The social and moral atmosphere stifled +him. He died; and we, with grief intensified by bitterness, +laid him in the soil of his own country as though +it had been that of the stranger and enemy.</p> + +<p>"At this time the anti-slavery movement was provoking +profound thought and feeling in America. I at once +identified myself with it; not because I was connected with +the hated and despised race, but because I loathed all forms +of tyranny, and fought against them with what measure of +strength I possessed. Doubtless this made me a more conspicuous +mark for the shafts of malice and cruelty, and as I +could nowhere be hurt as through her, malignity +exhausted its devices there. She was hooted at when she +appeared with me on the streets; she was inundated with +infamous letters; she was dragged before a court of <i>justice</i> +upon the plea that she had defied the law of the state +against amalgamation, forbidding the marriage of white +and colored; though at the time it was known that she was +English, that we were married in England and by English +law. One night, in the midst of the riots which in 1838 +disgraced this city, our house was surrounded by a mob, +burned over us; and I, with a few faithful friends, barely +succeeded in carrying her to a place of safety,—uncovered, +save by her delicate night-robe and a shawl, hastily caught +up as we hurried her away. The yelling fiends, the burning +house, the awful horror of fright and danger, the shock to +her health and strength, the storm,—for the night was a +wild and tempestuous one, which drenched her to the +skin,—from all these she might have recovered, had not +her boy, her first-born, been carried into her, bruised and +dead,—dead, through an accident of burning rafters and +falling stones; an accident, they said; yet as really murdered +as though they had wilfully and brutally stricken him +down.</p> + +<p>"After that I saw that she, too, would die, were she not +taken back to our old home. The preparations were hastily +made; we turned our faces towards England; we hoped to +reach it at least before another pair of eyes saw the light, +but hoped in vain. There on the broad sea Francesca was +born. There her mother died. There was she buried."</p> + +<p>It was with extreme difficulty Ercildoune had controlled +his face and voice, through the last of this distressing +recital, and with the final word he bowed his forehead +on the picture-frame,—convulsed with agony,—while +voiceless sobs, like spasms, shook his form. Surrey +realized that no words were to be said here, and stood by, +awed and silent. What hand, however tender, could be laid +on such a wound as this?</p> + +<p>Presently he looked up, and continued: "I came back +here, because, I said, here was my place. I had wealth, education, +a thousand advantages which are denied the masses +of people who are, like me, of mixed race. I came here to +identify my fate with theirs; to work with and for them; to +fight, till I died, against the cruel and merciless prejudice +which grinds them down. I have a son, who has just +entered the service of this country, perhaps to die under its +flag. I have a daughter,"—Willie flushed and started forward;—"I +asked you when I began this recital, if you had +counted all the consequences. You know my story; you see +with what fate you link yours; reflect! Francesca carries no +mark of her birth; her father or brother could not come +inside her home without shocking society by the scandal, +were not the story earlier known. The man whom you +struck down this morning is one of our neighbors; you saw +and heard his brutal assault: are you ready to face more of +the like kind? Better than you I know what sentence will +be passed upon you,—what measure awarded. It is for your +own sake I say these things; consider them. I have finished."</p> + +<p>Surrey had made to speak a half score of times, and as +often checked himself,—partly that he should not interrupt +his companion; partly that he might be master of his +emotions, and say what he had to utter without heat or +excitement.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Ercildoune," he now said, "listen to me. I should +despise myself were I guilty of the wicked and vulgar prejudice +universal in America. I should be beneath contempt +did I submit or consent to it. Two years ago I loved Miss +Ercildoune without knowing aught of her birth. She is the +same now as then; should I love her the less? If anything +hard or cruel is in her fate that love can soften, it shall be +done. If any painful burdens have been thrown upon her +life, I can carry, if not the whole, then a part of them. If I +cannot put her into a safe shelter where no ill will befall +her, I can at least take her into my arms and go with her +through the world. It will be easier for us, I think,—I +hope,—to face any fate if we are together. Ah, sir, do not +prevent it; do not deny me this happiness. Be my ambassador, +since she will not let me speak for myself, and plead +my own cause."</p> + +<p>In his earnestness he had come close to Mr. Ercildoune, +putting out his one hand with a gesture of entreaty, +with a tone in his voice, and a look in his face, irresistible +to hear and behold. Ercildoune took the hand, and held it +in a close, firm grasp. Some strong emotion shook him. +The expression, a combination of sadness and scorn, +which commonly held possession of his eyes, went out of +them, leaving them radiant. "No," he said, "I will say +nothing for you. I would not for worlds spoil your plea; +prevent her hearing, from your own mouth, what you +have to say. I will send her to you,"—and, going to a door, +gave the order to a servant, "Desire Miss Francesca to +come to the parlor." Then, motioning Surrey to the room, +he went away, buried in thought.</p> + +<p>Standing in the parlor, for he was too restless to sit, he +tried to plan how he should meet her; to think of a sentence +which at the outset should disarm her indignation at +being thus thrust upon him, and convey in some measure +the thought of which his heart was full, without trespassing +on her reserve, or telling her of the letter which he +had read. Then another fear seized him; it was two years +since he had written,—two years since that painful and +terrible scene had been enacted in the very room where he +stood,—two years since she had confessed by deed and +look that she loved him. Might she not have changed? +might she not have struggled for the mastery of this feeling +with only too certain success? might she not have learned +to regard him with esteem, perchance,—with +friendship,—sentiment,—anything +but that which he desired or +would claim at her hands? Silence and absence and time +are pitiless destructives. Might they not? Aye, might they +not? He paced to and fro, with quick, restless tread, at the +thought. All his love and his longing cried out against such +a cruel supposition. He stopped by the side of the bookcase +against which she had fallen in that merciless and suffering +struggle, and put his hand down on the little projection, +which he knew had once cut and wounded her, +with a strong, passionate clasp, as though it were herself he +held. Just then he heard a step,—her step, yet how +unlike!—coming down the stairs. Where he stood he +could see her as she crossed the hall, coming unconsciously +to meet him. All the brightness and airy grace seemed to +have been drawn quite out of her. The alert, slender figure +drooped as if it carried some palpable weight, and moved +with a step slow and unsteady as that of sickness or age. +Her face was pathetic in its sad pallor, and blue, sorrowful +circles were drawn under the deep eyes, heavy and dim +with the shedding of unnumbered tears. It almost broke +his heart to look at her. A feeling, pitiful as a mother +would have for her suffering baby, took possession of his +soul,—a longing to shield and protect her. Tears blinded +him; a great sob swelled in his throat; he made a step forward +as she came into the room. "Papa," she said, without +looking up, "you wanted me?" There was no response. +"Papa!" In an instant an arm enfolded her; a presence, +tender and strong, bent above her; a voice, husky with +crowding emotions, yet sweet with all the sweetness of +love, breathed, "My darling! my darling!" as <i>his</i> fair, sunny +hair swept her face.</p> + +<p>Even then she remembered another scene, remembered +her promise; even then she thought of him, of his +future, and struggled to release herself from his embrace.</p> + +<p>What did he say? what could he say? Where were the +arguments he had planned, the entreaties he had purposed? +where the words with which he was to tell his tale, combat +her refusal, win her to a willing and happy assent? All gone.</p> + +<p>There was nothing but his heart and its caresses to +speak for him. Silent, with the ineffable stillness he kissed +her eyes, her mouth, held her to his breast with a passionate +fondness,—a tender, yet masterful hold, which +said, "Nothing shall separate us now." She felt it, recognized +it, yielded without power to longer contend, clasped +her arms about his neck, met his eyes, and dropped her +face upon his heart with a long, tremulous sigh which +confessed that heaven was won.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + +<p> +"<i>The golden hours, on angel wings,<br /> +Flew o'er me and my dearie.</i>"<br /> +<br /> +BURNS<br /><br /><br /> +</p> + + +<p>The evening that followed was of the brightest +and happiest; even the adieus spoken to the soldier +who was just leaving his home did not sadden it. They +were in such a state of exaltation as to see everything with +courageous and hopeful eyes, and sent Robert off with the +feeling that all these horrible realities they had known so +long were but bogies to frighten foolish children, and that +he would come back to them wearing, at the very least, +the stars of a major-general. Whatever sombre and painful +thoughts filled Ercildoune's heart he held there, that no +gloom might fall from him upon these fresh young lives, +nor sadden the cheery expectancy of his son.</p> + +<p>Surrey, having carried the first line of defence, prepared +for a vigorous assault upon the second. Like all eager lovers, +his primary anxiety was to hear "Yes"; afterwards, the day. +To that end he was pleading with every resource that love +and impatience could lend; but Francesca shook her head, +and smiled, and said that was a long way off,—that was not +to be thought of, at least till the war was over, and her soldier +safe at home; but he insisted that this was the flimsiest, +and poorest of excuses; nay, that it was the very reverse of +the true and sensible idea, which was of course wholly on +his side. He had these few weeks at home, and then must +away once more to chances of battle and death. He did not +say this till he had exhausted every other entreaty; but at +last, gathering her close to him with his one loving arm,—"how +fortunate," he had before said, "that it is the left arm, +because if it were the other I could not hold you so near +my heart!"—so holding her, he glanced down at the empty +sleeve, and whispered, "My darling! who knows? I have +been wounded so often, and am now only a piece of a +fellow to come to you. It may be something more next +time, and then I shall never call you wife. It would make no +difference hereafter, I know: we belong to each other for +time and eternity. But then I should like to feel that we +were something more to one another than even betrothed +lovers, before the end comes, if come it does, untimely. Be +generous, dearie, and say yes."</p> + +<p>He did not give utterance to another fear, which was +that by some device she might again be taken away from +him; that some cruel plan might be put in execution to +separate them once more. He would not take the risk; he +would bind her to him so securely that no device, however +cunning,—no plan, however hard and shrewd,—could +again divide them.</p> + +<p>She hesitated long; was long entreated; but the result +was sure, since her own heart seconded every prayer he +uttered. At last she consented; but insisted that he should +go home at once, see the mother and father who were +waiting for him with such anxious hearts, give to them—as +was their due—at least a part of the time, and then, +when her hasty bride-preparations were made, come back +and take her wholly to himself. Thus it was arranged, and +he left her.</p> + +<p>Into the mysteries which followed—the mysteries of +hemming and stitching, of tucking and trimming, ruffling, +embroidering, of all the hurry and delicious confusion of +an elegant yet hasty bridal trousseau—let us not attempt to +investigate.</p> + +<p>Doubtless through those days, through this sweet and +happy whirl of emotion, Francesca had many anxious and +painful hours: hours in which she looked at the future—for +him more than for herself—with sorrowful anticipations +and forebodings. But with each evening came a +letter, written in the morning by his dear hand; a letter so +full of happy, hopeful love, of resolute, manly spirit, that +her cares and anxieties all took flight, and were but as a tale +that is told, or as a dream of darkness when the sun shines +upon a blessed reality.</p> + +<p>He wrote her that he had told his parents of his wishes +and plans; and that, as he had known before, they were +opposed, and opposed most bitterly; but he was sure that +time would soften, and knowledge destroy this prejudice +utterly. He wrote as he believed. They were so fond of +him, so devoted to him who was their only child, that he +was assured they would not and could not cast him off, nor +hate that which he loved. He did not know that his father, +who had never before been guilty of a base action,—his +mother, who was fine to daintiness,—were both so warped +by this senseless and cruel feeling—having seen Francesca +and known all her beautiful and noble elements of personal +character—as to have written her a letter which only +a losel should have penned and an outcast read. She did not +tell him. Being satisfied that they two belonged to one +another; that if they were separated it would be as the +tearing asunder of a perfect whole, leaving the parts rent +and bleeding,—she would not listen to any voice that +attempted, nor heed any hand that strove to drive an +entering wedge, or to divide them. Why, then, should she +trouble him by the knowledge that this effort had again +been made, and by those he trusted and honored. Let it +pass. The future must decide what the future must be, +meanwhile, they were to live in a happy present.</p> + +<p>He learned of it, however, before he left his home. +Finding that neither persuasions, threats, nor prayers could +move him,—that he would be true to honor and love,—they +told him of what they had done; laid bare the whole +intensity of their feeling; and putting her on the one side, +placing themselves on the other, said, "Choose,—this wife, +or those who have loved you for a lifetime. Cleave to her, +and your father disowns you, your mother renounces, your +home shuts its doors upon you, never to open. With the +world and its judgment we have nothing to do; that is +between it and you; but no judgment of indifferent +strangers shall be more severe than ours."</p> + +<p>A painful position; a cruel alternative; but not for an +instant did he hesitate. Taking the two hands of father and +mother into his solitary one, he said,—"Father, I have +always found you a gentleman; mother, you have shown all +the graces of the Christian character which you profess; yet +in this you are supporting the most dishonorable sentiment, +the most infidel unbelief, with which the age is +shamed. You are defying the dictates of justice and the +teachings of God. When you ask me to rank myself on +your side, I cannot do it. Were my heart less wholly +enlisted in this matter, my reason and sense of right would +rebel. Here, then, for the present at least, we must say +farewell." And so, with many a heart-ache and many a +pang, he went away.</p> + +<p>As true love always grows with passing time, so his +increased with the days, and intensified by the cruel heat +which was poured upon it. He realized the torture to +which, in a thousand ways, this darling of his heart had for +a lifetime been subjected; and his tenderness and love—in +which was an element of indignation and pathos—deepened +with every fresh revelation of the passing hours. +When he came back to her he had few words to speak, and +no airy grace of sentence or caress to bestow; he followed +her about in a curious, shadow-like way, with such a strain +on his heart as made him many a time lift his hand to it, as +if to check physical pain. For her, she was as one who had +found a beloved master, able and willing to lighten all her +burdens; a physician, whose slightest touch brought balm +and healing to every aching wound. And so these two +when the time came, spite of the absence of friends who +should have been there, spite of warnings and denunciations +and evil prophecies, stood up and said to those who +listened what their hearts had long before confessed, that +they were one for time and eternity; then, hand in hand, +went out into the world.</p> + +<p>For the present it was a pleasant enough world to +them. Surrey had a lovely little place on the Hudson to +which he would carry her, and pleased himself by fitting it +up with every convenience and beauty that taste could +devise and wealth supply.</p> + +<p>How happy they were there! To be sure, nobody came +to see them, but then they wished to see nobody; so every +one was well satisfied. The delicious lovers' life of two +years before was renewed, but with how much richer and +deeper delights and blissfulness! They galloped on many a +pleasant morning across miles and miles of country, down +rocky slopes, and through wild and romantic glens. They +drove lazily, on summer noons, through leafy fastnesses and +cool forest paths; or sat idly by some little stream on the +fresh, green moss, with a line dancing on the crystal water, +amusing themselves by the fiction that it was fishing upon +which they were intent, and not the dear delight of +watching one another's faces reflected from the placid +stream. They spent hours at home, reading bits of poems, +or singing scraps of love-songs, talking a little, and then +falling away into silence; or she sat perched on his knee or +the elbow of his chair, smoothing his sunny hair, stroking +his long, silky mustache, or looking into his answering +eyes, till the world lapsed quite away from them, and they +thought themselves in heaven.</p> + +<p>An idle, happy time! a time to make a worker sigh only +to behold, and a Benthamite lift his hands in deprecation and +despair. A time which would not last, because it could not, +any more than apple-blossoms and May flowers, but which +was sweet and fragrant past all describing while it endured.</p> + +<p>Some <i>kindly</i> disposed person sent Surrey a city paper +with an item marked in such wise as to make him understand +its unpleasant import without the reading. "Come," +he said, "we will have none of this; this owl does not +belong to our sunshine,"—and so destroyed and forgot it. +Others, however, saw that which he scorned to read. He +had not been into the city since he called at his father's +house, and walked into the reception room of his aunt, +and been refused interview or speech at either place. "Very +well," he thought, "I will go from this painful inhospitality +and coldness to my Paradise"; and he went, and remained.</p> + +<p>The only letter he wrote was to his old friend and +favorite cousin, Tom Russell,—who was away somewhere +in the far South, and from whom he had not heard for +many a day,—and hoped that he, at least, would not disappoint +him; would not disappoint the hearty trust he had in +his breadth of nature and manly sensibility.</p> + +<p>And so, with clouds doubtless in the sky, but which +they did not see,—the sun shone so bright for them; and +some discords in the minor keys which they did not +heed,—the major music was so sweet and intoxicating,—the +brief, glad hours wore away, and the time for parting, +with hasty steps, had almost reached and faced them. +Meanwhile, what was occurring to others, in other scenes +and among other surroundings?</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2> + +<p> +"<i>There are some deeds so grand<br /> +That their mighty doers stand<br /> +Ennobled, in a moment, more than kings.</i>"<br /> +<br /> +BOKER<br /><br /><br /> +</p> + + +<p>It was towards the evening of a blazing July day on +Morris Island. The mail had just come in and been distributed. +Jim, with some papers and a precious missive from +Sallie in one hand, his supper in the other, betook himself +to a cool spot by the river,—if, indeed, any spot could be +called cool in that fiery sand,—and proceeded to devour +the letter with wonderful avidity while the "grub," properly +enough, stood unnoticed and uncared for. Presently he +stopped, rubbed his eyes, and re-read a paragraph in the +epistle before him, then re-rubbed, and read it again; and +then, laying it down, gave utterance to a long whistle, +expressive of unbounded astonishment, if not incredulity.</p> + +<p>The whistle was answered by its counterpart, and Jim, +looking up, beheld his captain,—Coolidge by name,—a +fast, bright New York boy, standing at a little distance, and +staring with amazed eyes at a paper he held in his hands. +Glancing from this to Jim, encountering his look, he burst +out laughing and came towards him.</p> + +<p>"Helloa, Given!" he called: Jim was a favorite with +him, as indeed with pretty much every one with whom he +came in contact, officers and men,—"you, too, seem put +out. I wonder if you've read anything as queer as that," +handing him the paper and striking his finger down on an +item; "read it." Jim read:—</p> + +<p>"MISCEGENATION. DISGRACEFUL FREAK IN HIGH LIFE. +FRUIT OF AN ABOLITION WAR.—We are credibly informed +that a young man belonging to one of the first families in +the city, Mr. W.A.S.,—we spare his name for the sake of +his relatives,—who has been engaged since its outset in this +fratricidal war, has just given evidence of its legitimate +effect by taking to his bosom a nigger wench as <i>his wife</i>. Of +course he is disowned by his family, and spurned by his +friends, even radical fanaticism not being yet ready for such +a dose as this. However—" Jim did not finish the homily +of which this was the presage, but, throwing the paper on +the ground, indignantly drove his heel through it, tearing +and soiling it, and then viciously kicked it into the river.</p> + +<p>Said the Captain when this operation was completed, +having watched it with curious eyes, "Well, my man, are +you aware of the fact that that is <i>my</i> paper?"</p> + +<p>"Don't care if it is. What in thunder did you bring the +damned Copperhead sheet to me for, if you didn't want it +smashed? Ain't you ashamed of yourself having such a +thing round? How'd you feel if you were picked up dead +by a reb, with that stuff in your pocket? Say now!"</p> + +<p>Coolidge laughed,—he was always ready to laugh: that +was probably why the men liked him so well, and stood in +awe of him not a bit. "Feel? horridly, of course. Bad +enough, being dead, to yet speak, and tell 'em that paper +didn't represent my politics: 'd that do?"</p> + +<p>Jim shook his head dubiously.</p> + +<p>"What are you making such a devil of a row for, I'd +like to know? it's too hot to get excited. 'Tain't likely you +know anything about Willie Surrey."</p> + +<p>"O ho! it is Mr. Will, then, is it? Know him,—don't I, +though? Like a book. Known him ever since he was knee-height +of a grasshopper. I'd like to have that fellow"—shaking +his fist toward the floating paper—"within arm's +reach. Wouldn't I pummel him some? O no, of course +not,—not at all. Only, if he wants a sound skin, I'd advise +him, as a friend, to be scarce when I'm round, because it'd +very likely be damaged."</p> + +<p>"You think it's all a Copperhead lie, then! I should have +thought so, at first, only I know Surrey's capable of doing +any Quixotic thing if he once gets his mind fixed on it."</p> + +<p>"I know what I know," Jim answered, slowly folding +and unfolding Sallie's letter, which he still held in his hand. +"I know all about that young lady he's been marrying. +She's young, and she's handsome—handsome as a picture—and +rich, and as good as an angel; that's about what +she is, if Sallie Howard and I know B from a bull's foot."</p> + +<p>"Who is Sallie Howard?" queried the Captain.</p> + +<p>"She? O,"—very red in the face,—"she's a friend of +mine, and she's Miss Ercildoune's seamstress."</p> + +<p>"Ercildoune? good name! Is she the <i>lady</i> upon whom +Surrey has been bestowing his—?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, she is; and here's her photograph. Sallie begged it +of her, and sent it to me, once after she had done a kind +thing by both of us. Looks like a 'nigger wench,' don't she?"</p> + +<p>The Captain seized the picture, and, having once fastened +his eyes upon it, seemed incapable of removing +them. "This? this her?" he cried. "Great Cæsar! I should +think Surrey would have the fellow out at twenty paces in +no time. Heavens, what a beauty!"</p> + +<p>Jim grinned sardonically: "She is rather pretty, now,—ain't +she?"</p> + +<p>"Pretty! ugh, what an expression! pretty, indeed! I +never saw anything so beautiful. But what a sad face it is!"</p> + +<p>"Sad! well, 'tain't much wonder. I guess her life's been +sad enough, in spite of her youth, and her beauty, and her +riches, and all the rest."</p> + +<p>"Why, how should that be?"</p> + +<p>"Suppose you take another squint at that face."</p> + +<p>"Well."</p> + +<p>"See anything peculiar about it?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing except its beauty."</p> + +<p>"Not about the eyes?"</p> + +<p>"No,—only I believe it is they that make the face so +sorrowful."</p> + +<p>"Very like. You generally see just such big mournful-looking +eyes in the faces of people that are called—octoroons."</p> + +<p>"What?" cried the Captain, dropping the picture in his +surprise.</p> + +<p>"Just so," Jim answered, picking it up and dusting it +carefully before restoring it to its place in his pocket-book.</p> + +<p>"So, then, it is part true, after all."</p> + +<p>"True!" exclaimed Jim, angrily,—"don't make an ass of +yourself, Captain."</p> + +<p>"Why, Given, didn't you say yourself that she was an +octoroon, or some such thing?"</p> + +<p>"Suppose I did,—what then?"</p> + +<p>"I should say, then, that Surrey has disgraced himself +forever. He has not only outraged his family and his +friends, and scandalized society, but he has run against +nature itself. It's very plain God Almighty never intended +the two races to come together."</p> + +<p>"O, he didn't, hey? Had a special despatch from him, +that you know all about it? I've heard just such talk before +from people who seemed to be pretty well posted about +his intentions,—in this particular matter,—though I generally +noticed they weren't chaps who were very intimate +with him in any other way."</p> + +<p>The Captain laughed. "Thank you, Jim, for the compliment; +but come, you aren't going to say that nature +hasn't placed a barrier between these people and us? an +instinct that repels an Anglo-Saxon from a negro always +and everywhere?"</p> + +<p>"Ho, ho! that's good! why, Captain, if you keep on, you'll +make me talk myself into a regular abolitionist. Instinct, hey? +I'd like to know, then, where all the mulattoes, and the +quadroons, and the octoroons come from,—the yellow-skins +and brown-skins and skins so nigh white you can't tell 'em +with your spectacles on! The darkies must have bleached out +amazingly here in America, for you'd have to hunt with a long +pole and a telescope to boot to find a straight-out black one +anywhere round,—leastwise that's my observation."</p> + +<p>"That was slavery."</p> + +<p>"Yes 'twas,—and then the damned rascals talk about +the amalgamationists, and all that, up North. 'Twan't the +abolitionists; 'twas the slaveholders and their friends that +made a race of half-breeds all over the country; but, slavery +or no slavery, they showed nature hadn't put any barriers +between them,—and it seems to me an enough sight +decenter and more respectable plan to marry fair and +square than to sell your own children and the mother that +bore them. Come, now, ain't it?"</p> + +<p>"Well, yes, if you come to that, I suppose it is!"</p> + +<p>"You <i>suppose</i> it is! See here,—I've found out something +since I've been down here, and have had time to think; +'tain't the living together that troubles squeamish stomachs; +it's the marrying. That's what's the matter!"</p> + +<p>"Just about!" assented the Captain, with an amused +look, "and here's a case in point. Surrey ought to have +been shot for marrying one of that degraded race."</p> + +<p>"Bah! he married one of his own race, if I know how +to calculate."</p> + +<p>"There, Jim, don't be a fool! If she's got any negro +blood in her veins she's a nigger, and all your talk won't +make her anything else."</p> + +<p>"I say, Captain, I've heard that some of your ancestors +were Indians: is that so?"</p> + +<p>"Yes: my great-grandmother was an Indian chief's +daughter,—so they say; and you might as well claim royalty +when you have the chance."</p> + +<p>"Bless me! your great-grandmother, eh? Come, now, +what do you call yourself,—an Injun?"</p> + +<p>"No, I don't. I call myself an Anglo-Saxon."</p> + +<p>"What, not call yourself an Injun,—when your great-grandmother +was one? Here's a pretty go!"</p> + +<p>"Nonsense! 'tisn't likely that filtered Indian blood can +take precedence and mastery of all the Anglo-Saxon material +it's run through since then."</p> + +<p>"Hurray! now you've said it. Lookee here, Captain. +You say the Anglo-Saxon's the master race of the world."</p> + +<p>"Of course I do."</p> + +<p>"Of course you do,—being a sensible fellow. So do I; +and you say the negro blood is mighty poor stuff, and the +race a long way behind ours."</p> + +<p>"Of course, again."</p> + +<p>"Now, Captain, just take a sober squint at your own +logic. You back Anglo-Saxon against the field; very well! +here's Miss Ercildoune, we'll say, one eighth negro, seven +eighths Anglo-Saxon. You make that one eighth stronger +than all the other seven eighths: you make that little bit of +negro master of all the lot of Anglo-Saxon. Now I have +such a good opinion of my own race that if it were t'other +way about, I'd think the one eighth Saxon strong enough +to beat the seven eighths nigger. That's sound, isn't it? consequently, +I call anybody that's got any mixture at all, and +that knows anything, and keeps a clean face,—and ain't a +rebel, nor yet a Copperhead,—I call him, if it's a him, and +her, if it's a she, one of us. And I mean to say to any such +from henceforth, 'Here's your chance,—go in, and win, if +you can,—and anybody be damn'd that stops you!'"</p> + +<p>"Blow away, Jim," laughed the Captain, "I like to hear +you; and it's good talk if you don't mean it."</p> + +<p>"I'll be blamed if I don't."</p> + +<p>"Come, you're talking now,—you're saying a lot more +than you'll live up to,—you know that as well as I. People +always do when they're gassing."</p> + +<p>"Well, blow or no blow, it's truth, whether I live up to +it or not." And he, evidently with not all the steam worked +off, began to gather sticks and build a fire to fry his bit of +pork and warm the cold coffee.</p> + +<p>Just then they heard the plash of oars keeping time to +the cadence of a plantation hymn, which came floating +solemn and clear through the night:—</p> + +<p> +"My brudder sittin' on de tree ob life,<br /> +An' he yearde when Jordan roll.<br /> +Roll Jordan, roll Jordan, roll Jordan, roll,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Roll Jordan, roll!"</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>They both paused to listen as the refrain was again and +again repeated.</p> + +<p>"There's nigger for you," broke out Jim, "what'n +thunder'd they mean by such gibberish as that?"</p> + +<p>The Captain laughed. "Come, Given, don't quarrel +with what's above your comprehension. Doubtless there's +a spiritual meaning hidden away somewhere, which your +unsanctified ears can't interpret."</p> + +<p>"Spiritual fiddlestick!"</p> + +<p>"Worse and worse! what a heathen you're demonstrating +yourself! Violins are no part of the heavenly +chorus."</p> + +<p>"Much you know about it! Hark,—they're at it again"; +and again the voices and break of oars came through the +night:—</p> + +<p> +"O march, de angel march! O march, de angel march!<br /> +O my soul arise in heaven, Lord, for to yearde when Jordan roll!<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Roll Jordan, roll Jordan, roll Jordan, roll."</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>"Well, I confess that's a little bit above my comprehension,—that +is. Spiritual or something else. Lazy vermin! +they'll paddle round in them boats, or lie about in the sun, +and hoot all day and all night about 'de good Lord' and 'de +day ob jubilee,'—and think God Almighty is going to +interfere in their special behalf, and do big things for them +generally."</p> + +<p>"It's a fact; they do all seem to be waiting for something."</p> + +<p>"Well, I reckon they needn't wait any longer. The day +of miracles is gone by, for such as them, anyway. They ain't +worth the salt that feeds them, so far as I can discover."</p> + +<p>Through the wash of the waters they could hear from +the voices, as they sang, that their possessors were evidently +drawing nearer.</p> + +<p>"Sense or not," said the Captain, "I never listen to them +without a queer feeling. What they sing is generally +ridiculous enough, but their voices are the most pathetic +things in the world."</p> + +<p>Here the hymn stopped; a boat was pulled up, and +presently they saw two men coming from the sands and +into the light of their fire,—ragged, dirty; one shabby old +garment—a pair of tow pantaloons—on each; bareheaded, +barefooted,—great, clumsy feet, stupid and heavy-looking +heads; slouching walk, stooping shoulders; something eager +yet deprecating in their black faces.</p> + +<p>"Look at 'em, Captain; now you just take a fair look at +'em; and then say that Mr. Surrey's wife belongs to the +same family,—own kith and kin,—you ca-a-n't do it."</p> + +<p>"Faugh! for heaven's sake, shut up! of course, when it +comes to this, I can't say anything of the kind."</p> + +<p>"'Nuff said. You see, I believe in Mr. Surrey, and +what's more, I believe in Miss Ercildoune,—have reason +to; and when I hear anybody mixing her up with these +onry, good-for-nothing niggers, it's more'n I can stand, so +don't let's have any more of it"; and turning with an air +which said that subject was ended, Jim took up his forgotten +coffee, pulled apart some brands and put the big tin +cup on the coals, and then bent over it absorbed, sniffing +the savory steam which presently came up from it. Meanwhile +the two men were skulking about among the trees, +watching, yet not coming near,—"at their usual work of +waiting," as the Captain said.</p> + +<p>"Proper enough, too, let 'em wait. Waiting's their business. +Now," taking off his tin and looking towards them, +"what d'ye s'pose those anemiles want? Pity the boat +hadn't tipped over before they got here. Camp's overrun +now with just such scoots. Here, you!" he called.</p> + +<p>The men came near. "Where'd you come from?"</p> + +<p>One of them pointed back to the boat, seen dimly on +the sand.</p> + +<p>"Was that you howling a while ago, 'Roll Jordan,' or +something?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, massa."</p> + +<p>"And where did you come from?—no, you needn't +look back there again,—I mean, where did you and the +boat too come from?"</p> + +<p>"Come from Mass' George Wingate's place, massa."</p> + +<p>"Far from here?"</p> + +<p>"Big way, massa."</p> + +<p>"What brought you here? what did you come for?"</p> + +<p>"If you please, massa, 'cause the Linkum sojers was +yere, an' de big guns, an' we yearde dat all our people's free +when dey gets yere."</p> + +<p>"Free! what'll such fellows as you do with freedom, hey?"</p> + +<p>The two looked at their interrogator, then at one +another, opened their mouths as to speak, and shut them +hopelessly,—unable to put into words that which was +struggling in their darkened brains,—and then with a +laugh, a laugh that sounded woefully like a sob, answered, +"Dunno, massa."</p> + +<p>"What fools!" cried Jim, angrily; but the Captain, who +was watching them keenly, thought of a line he had once +read, "There is a laughter sadder than tears." "True +enough,—poor devils!" he added to himself.</p> + +<p>"Are you hungry?" Jim proceeded.</p> + +<p>"I hope massa don't think we's come yere for to git +suthin' to eat," said the smaller of the two, a little, thin, +haggard-looking fellow,—"we's no beggars. Some ob de +darkies is, but we's not dem kind,—Jim an' me,—we's +willin' to work, ain't we, Jim?"</p> + +<p>"Jim!" soliloquized Given,—"my name, hey? we'll take +a squint at this fellow."</p> + +<p>The squint showed two impoverished-looking +wretches, with a starved look in their eyes, which he did +not comprehend, and a starved look in their faces and +forms, which he did.</p> + +<p>"Come, now, are you hungry?" he queried once more.</p> + +<p>"If ye please, massa," began the little one who was +spokesman,—'little folks always are gas-bags,' Jim was fond +of saying from his six feet of height,—"if ye please, massa, +we's had nothin' to eat but berries an' roots an' sich like +truck for long while."</p> + +<p>"Well, why by the devil haven't you had something +else then? what've you been doing with yourselves for +'long while'? what d'ye mean, coming here starved to +death, making a fellow sick to look at you? Hold your gab, +and eat up that pork," pushing over his tin plate, "'n' that +bread," sending it after, "'n' that hard tack,—'tain't very +good, but it's better'n roots, I reckon, or berries either,—'n' +gobble up that coffee, double-quick, mind; and don't +you open your heads to talk till the grub's gone, slick and +clean. Ugh!" he said to the Captain,—"sight o' them fellows +just took my appetite away; couldn't eat to save my +soul; lucky they came to devour the rations; pity to throw +them away." The Captain smiled,—he knew Jim. "Poor +cusses!" he added presently, "eat like cannibals, don't they? +hope they enjoy it. Had enough?" seeing they had +devoured everything put before them.</p> + +<p>"Thankee, massa. Yes, massa. Bery kind, massa. Had +quite 'nuff."</p> + +<p>"Well, now, you, sir!" looking at the little one,—"by +the way, what's your name?"</p> + +<p>"'Bijah, if ye please, massa."</p> + +<p>"'Bijah? Abijah, hey? well, I don't please; however, it's +none of my name. Well, 'Bijah, how came you two to be +looking like a couple of animated skeletons? that's the next +question."</p> + +<p>"Yes, massa."</p> + +<p>"I say, how came you to be starved? Hai'n't they +nothing but roots and berries up your way? Mass' George +Wingate must have a jolly time, feasting, in that case. +Come, what's your story? Out with the whole pack of lies +at once."</p> + +<p>"I hope massa thinks we wouldn't tell nuffin but de +truf," said Jim, who had not before spoken save to say, +"Thankee,"—"cause if he don't bleeve us, ain't no use in +talkin'."</p> + +<p>"You shut up! I ain't conversing with you, rawbones! +Speak when you're spoken to! Come, 'Bijah, fire away."</p> + +<p>"Bery good, massa. Ye see I'se Mass' George Wingate's +boy. Mass' George he lives in de back country, good long +way from de coast,—over a hundred miles, Jim calklates,—an' +Jim's smart at calklating; well, Mass' George he's not +berry good to his people; never was, an' he's been wuss'n +ever since the Linkum sojers cum round his way, 'cause it's +made feed scurce ye see, an' a lot of de boys dey tuck to +runnin' away,—so what wid one ting an' anoder, his temper +got spiled, an' he was mighty hard on us all de time.</p> + +<p>"At las' I got tired of bein' cuffed an' knocked round, +an' den I yearde dat if our people, any of dem, got to de +Fedral lines dey was free, so I said, 'Cum, 'Bijah,—freedom's +wuth tryin' for'; an' one dark night I did up some +hoe-cake an' a piece of pork an' started. I trabbeled hard's +I could all night,—'bout fifteen mile, I reckon,—an' den as +'twas gittin' toward mornin' I hid away in a swamp. Ye see +I felt drefful bad, for I could year way off, but plain enuff, +de bayin' of de hounds, an' I knew dat de men an' de guns +an' de dogs was all after me; but de day passed an' dey +didn't come. So de next night I started off agen, an' run +an' walked hard all night, an' towards mornin' I went up to +a little house standen off from de road, thinking it was a +nigger house, an' jest as I got up to it out walked a white +woman scarin' me awfully, an' de fust ting she axed me was +what I wanted."</p> + +<p>"Tight slave!" interrupted Jim,—"what d'ye do then?"</p> + +<p>"Well, massa, ye see I saw mighty quick I was in for a +lie anyhow, so I said, 'Is massa at home?' 'Yes,' says she,—an' +sure nuff, he cum right out. 'Hello, nigger!' he said +when he seed me, 'whar you cum from? so I tells him from +Pocotaligo, an' before he could ax any more queshuns, I +went on an' tole him we cotched fifty Yankees down dere +yesterday, an' massa he was so tickled dat he let me go to +Barnwells to see my family, an' den I said I'd got off de +track an' was dead beat an' drefful hungry, an' would he +please to sell me suthin to eat. At dat de woman streaked +right into de house, an' got me some bread an' meat, an' +tole me to eat it up an' not talk about payin,'—'we don't +charge good, faithful niggers nothin',' she said,—so I +thanked her an' eat it all up, an' den, when de man had tole +me how to go, I went right long till I got out ob sight ob +de little house, an' den I got into de woods, an' turned +right round de oder way an' made tracks fast as I could in +dat direcshun."</p> + +<p>"Ho! ho! you're about what I call a 'cute nigger," +laughed Jim. "Come, go on,—this gets interesting."</p> + +<p>"Well, directly I yearde de dogs. Dere was a pond little +way off; so I tuck to it, an' waded out till I could just touch +my toes an' keep my nose above water so's to breathe. +Presently dey all cum down, an' I yearde Mass' George say, +'I'll hunt dat nigger till I find him if takes a month. I'se +goin' to make a zample of him,'—so I shook some at dat, +for I know'd what Mass' George's zamples was. Arter while +one ob de men says, 'He ain't yere,—he'd shown hisself +before dis, if he was,' an' I spose I would, for I was pretty +nearly choked, only I said to myself when I went in, 'I'll +go to de bottom before I'll come up to be tuck,' so I jest +held on by my toes an' waited.</p> + +<p>"I didn't dare to cum out when dey rode away to try a +new scent, an' when I did I jest skulked round de edge ob +de pond, ready to take to it agen if I yearde dem, an' when +night cum I started off an' run an' walked agen hard's I +could, an' den at day-dawn I tuck to anoder pond, an' +went on a log dat was stickin' in de water, and broke down +some rushes an' bushes enuf to lie down on an' cover me +up, an' den I slept all day, for I was drefful tired an' most +starved too. Next evenin' when it got dark, I went on +agen, an' trabblin through de woods I seed a little light, an' +sartin dis time dat it was a darkey's cabin, I made for it, an' +it was. It was his'n,"—pointing to the big fellow who stood +beside him, and who nodded his head in assent.</p> + +<p>"I had a palaver before he'd let me in, but when I was +in I seed what de matter was. He had a sojer dere, a Linkum +sojer, bad wounded, what he'd found in de woods,—he +was a runaway hisself, ye see, like me,—an' he'd tuck him +to dis ole cabin an'd been nussin him on for good while. +When I seed dat I felt drefful bad, for I knowed dey was a +huntin for me yet, an' I tought if de dogs got on de trail +dey'd get to dis cabin, sure: an' den dey'd both be tuck. So +I up an' tole dem, an' de sojer he says, 'Come, Jim, you've +done quite enuff fur me, my boy. If you're in danger now, +be off with you fast as you can,—an' God reward you, for +I never can, for all you've done for me.'</p> + +<p>"'No,' says Jim, 'Capen, ye needn't talk in dat way, for +I'se not goin to budge widout you. You got wounded fur +me an' my people, an' now I'll stick by you an' face any +thing fur you if it's Death hisself!' That's just what Jim said; +an' de sojer he put his hand up to his face, an' I seed it +tremble bad,—he was weak, you see,—an' some big tears +cum out troo his fingers onto de back ob it.</p> + +<p>"Den Jim says, 'Dis isn't a safe place for any on us, an' +we'll have to take to our heels agen, an' so de sooner we's +off de better.' So he did up some vittels,—all he had dere,—an' +gave 'em to me to tote,—an' den before de Capen +could sneeze he had him up on his back, an' we was off.</p> + +<p>"It was pretty hard work I kin tell you, strong as Jim +was, an' we'd have to stop an' rest putty ofen; an' den, Jim +an' I, we'd tote him atween us on some boughs; an' den we +had to lie by, some days, all day,—an' we trabbled putty +slow, cause we'd lost our bearing an' was in a secesh +country, we knowed,—an' we had nudin but berries an' +sich to eat, an' got nigh starved.</p> + +<p>"One night we cum onto half a dozen fellows skulkin' +in de woods, an' at fust dey made fight, but d'rectly dey +know'd we was friends, fur dey was some more Linkum +sojers, an' dey'd lost dere way, or ruther, dey know'd where +dey was, but dey didn't know how to git way from dere. +Dey was 'scaped pris'ners, dey told us; when I yearde +where 'twas I know'd de way to de coast, an' said I'd show +'em de way if dey'd cum long wid us, so dey did; an' we +got 'long all right till we got to de ribber up by Mass' +Rhett's place."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know where it is," said the Captain.</p> + +<p>"Den what to do was de puzzle. De country was all full +ob secesh pickets, an' dere was de ribber, an' we had no +boat,—so Jim, he says, 'I know what to do; fust I'll hide +you yere,' an' he did all safe in de woods; 'an' den I'll git ye +suthin to eat from de niggers round,' an' he did dat too, do +he couldn't git much, for fear he'd be seen; an' den we, he +and I, made some ropes out ob de tall grass like dat we'd +ofen made fur mats, an' tied dem together wid some oder +grass, an' stuck a board in, an' den made fur de Yankee +camp, an' yere we is."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the black man Jim, here,—breaking +silence,—"we'll show you de way back if you kin go up in +a boat dey can rest in, fur dey's most all clean done out, an' +de capen's wound is awful bad yit."</p> + +<p>"This captain,—what's his name?" inquired Coolidge.</p> + +<p>"His name is here," said Jim, carefully drawing forth a +paper from his rags,—"he has on dis some figgers an' a map +of de country he took before he got wounded, an' some +words he writ wid a bit of burnt stick just before we cum +away,—an' he giv it to me, an' tole me to bring it to camp, +fur fear something might happen to him while we was +away."</p> + +<p>"My God!" cried Coolidge when he had opened the +paper, and with hasty eyes scanned its contents, "it's Tom +Russell; I know him well. This must be sent up to head-quarters, +and I'll get an order, and a boat, and some men, +to go for them at once." All of which was promptly done.</p> + +<p>"See here! I speak to be one of the fellows what goes," +Jim emphatically announced.</p> + +<p>"All right. I reckon we'll both go, Given, if the General +will let us,—and I think he will,"—which was a safe +guess and a true one. The boat was soon ready and +manned. 'Bijah, too weak to pull an oar, was left behind; +and Jim, really not fit to do aught save guide them, still +insisted on taking his share of work. They found the place +at last, and the men; and taking them on board,—Russell +having to be moved slowly and carefully,—they began to +pull for home.</p> + +<p>The tide was going out, and the river low: that, with +the heavy laden boat, made their progress lingering; a fact +which distressed them all, as they knew the night to be +almost spent, and that the shores were so lined with batteries, +open and masked, and the country about so scoured +by rebels, as to make it almost sure death to them if they +were not beyond the lines before the morning broke.</p> + +<p>The water was steadily and perceptibly ebbing,—the +rowing growing more and more insecure,—the danger +becoming imminent.</p> + +<p>"Ease her off, there! ease her off!" cried the Captain,—as +a harsh, gravelly sound smote on his ear, and at the same +moment a shot whizzed past them, showing that they were +discovered,—"ease her off, there! or we're stuck!"</p> + +<p>The warning came too late,—indeed, could not have +been obeyed, had it come earlier. The boat struck; her +bottom grating hard on the wet sand.</p> + +<p>"Great God! she's on a bar," cried Coolidge, "and the +tide's running out, fast."</p> + +<p>"Yes, and them damned rebs are safe enough from <i>our</i> +fire," said one of the men.</p> + +<p>A few scattering shot fell about them.</p> + +<p>"They're going to make their mark on us, anyway," put +in another.</p> + +<p>"And we can't send 'em anything in return, blast 'em!" +growled a third.</p> + +<p>"That's the worst of it," broke out a fourth, "to be shot +at like a rat in a hole."</p> + +<p>All said in a breath, and the balls by this time falling +thick and fast,—a fiery, awful rain of death. The men were +no cowards, and the captain was brave enough; but what +could they do? To stand up was but to make figure-heads +at which the concealed enemy could fire with ghastly certainty; +to fire in return was to waste their ammunition in +the air. The men flung themselves face foremost on the +deck, silent and watchful.</p> + +<p>Through it all Jim had been sitting crouched over his +oar. He, unarmed, could not have fought had the chance +offered; breaking out, once and again, into the solemn-sounding +chant which he had been singing when he came +up in his boat the evening before:—</p> + +<p> +"O my soul arise in heaven, Lord, for to yearde when<br /> +Jordan roll,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Roll Jordan, roll Jordan, roll Jordan, roll,"—</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>the words falling in with the sound of the water as it lapsed +from them.</p> + +<p>"Stop that infernal noise, will you?" cried one of the +men, impatiently. The noise stopped.</p> + +<p>"Hush, Harry,—don't swear!" expostulated another, +beside whom was lying a man mortally wounded. "This is +awful! 'tain't like going in fair and square, on your chance."</p> + +<p>"That's so,—it's enough to make a fellow pray," was the +answer.</p> + +<p>Here Russell, putting up his hand, took hold of Jim's +brawny black one with a gesture gentle as a woman's. It +hurt him to hear his faithful friend even spoken to harshly. +All this, while the hideous shower of death was dropping +about them; the water was ebbing, ebbing,—falling and +running out fast to sea, leaving them higher and drier on +the sands; the gray dawn was steadily brightening into day.</p> + +<p>At this fearful pass a sublime scene was enacted. "Sirs!" +said a voice,—it was Jim's voice, and in it sounded something +so earnest and strange, that the men involuntarily +turned their heads to look at him. Then this man stood +up,—a black man,—a little while before a slave,—the great +muscles swollen and gnarled with unpaid toil, the marks of +the lash and the branding-iron yet plain upon his person, +the shadows of a lifetime of wrongs and sufferings +looking out of his eyes. "Sirs!" he said, simply, "somebody's +got to die to get us out of dis, and it may as well be me,"—plunged +overboard, put his toil-hardened shoulders to the +boat; a struggle, a gasp, a mighty wrench,—pushed it off +clear; then fell, face foremost, pierced by a dozen bullets. +Free at last!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2> + +<p> +"<i>Ye died to live.</i>"<br /> +<br /> +BOKER<br /><br /><br /> +</p> + + +<p>The next day Jim was recounting this scene to +some men in camp, describing it with feeling and +earnestness, and winding up the narration by the declaration, +"and the first man that says a nigger ain't as good as a +white man, and a damn'd sight better'n those graybacks +over yonder, well"—</p> + +<p>"Well, suppose he does?"—interrupted one of the men.</p> + +<p>"O, nothing, Billy Dodge,—only he and I'll have a few +words to pass on the subject, that's all"; doubling up his fist +and examining the big cords and muscles on it with +curious and well-satisfied interest.</p> + +<p>"See here, Billy!" put in one of his comrades, "don't +you go to having any argument with Jim,—he's a dabster +with his tongue, Jim is."</p> + +<p>"Yes, and a devil with his fist," growled a sullen-looking +fellow.</p> + +<p>"Just so,"—assented Jim,—"when a blackguard's round +to feel it."</p> + +<p>"Well, Given, do you like the darkies well enough to +take off your cap to them?" queried a sergeant standing near.</p> + +<p>"What are you driving at now, hey?"</p> + +<p>"O, not much; but you'll have to play second fiddle to +them to-night. The General thinks they're as good as the +rest of us, and a little bit better, and has sent over for the +Fifty-fourth to lead the charge this evening. What have +you got to say to that?"</p> + +<p>"Bull, for them! that's what I've got to say. Any objection?" +looking round him.</p> + +<p>"Nary objec!" "They deserve it!" "They fought like +tigers over on James Island!" "I hope they'll pepper the rebs +well!"—"It ought to be a free fight, and no quarter, with +them!" "Yes, for they get none if they're taken!" "Go in, +Fifty-fourth!" These and the like exclamations broke from +the men on all sides, with absolute heartiness and good will.</p> + +<p>"It seems to me," sneered a dapper little officer who +had been looking and listening, "that the niggers have +plenty of advocates here."</p> + +<p>Two or three of the men looked at Jim. "You may bet +your pile on that, Major!" said he, with becoming gravity; +"we love our friends, and we hate our enemies, and it's the +dark-complected fellows that are the first down this way."</p> + +<p>"Pretty-looking set of friends!"</p> + +<p>"Well, they ain't much to look at, that's a fact; but I +never heard of anybody saying you was to turn a cold +shoulder on a helper because he was homely, except,"—this +as the Major was walking away, "except a secesh, or a +fool, or one of little Mac's staff officers."</p> + +<p>"Homely? what are you gassing about?" objected a +little fellow from Massachusetts; "the Fifty-fourth is as fine-looking +a set of men as shoulder rifles anywhere in the +army."</p> + +<p>"Jack's sensitive about the credit of his State," chaffed a +big Ohioan. "He wants to crack up these fellows, seeing +they're his comrades. I say, Johnny, are all the white men +down your way such little shavers as you?"</p> + +<p>"For a fellow that's all legs and no brains, you talk too +much," answered Johnny. "Have any of you seen the Fifty-fourth?"</p> + +<p>"I haven't." "Nor I." "Yes, I saw them at Port Royal." +"And I." "And I."</p> + +<p>"Well, the Twenty-third was at Beaufort while they +were there, and I used to go over to their camp and talk +with them. I never saw fellows so in earnest; they seemed +ready to die on the instant, if they could help their people, +or walk into the slaveholders any, first. They were just full +of it; and yet it seemed absurd to call 'em a black regiment; +they were pretty much all colors, and some of 'em as white +as I am."</p> + +<p>"Lord," said Jim, "that's not saying much, you've got a +smutty face."</p> + +<p>The men laughed, Jack with the rest, as he dabbed at +his heated, powder-stained countenance. "Come," said he, +"that's no fair,—they're as white as I am, then, when I've +just scrubbed; and some of them are first-raters, too; none +of your rag, tag, and bobtail. There's one I remember, a +man from Philadelphia, who walks round like a prince. +He's a gentleman, every inch,—and he's rich,—and about +the handsomest-looking specimen of humanity I've set +eyes upon for an age."</p> + +<p>"Rich, is he? how do you know he's rich?"</p> + +<p>"I was over one night with Captain Ware, and he and +this man got to talking about the pay for the Fifty-fourth. +The government promised them regular pay, you see, and +then when it got 'em refused to stick to its agreement, and +they would take no less, so they haven't seen a dime since +they enlisted; and it's a darned mean piece of business, +that's my opinion of the matter, and I don't care who +knows it," looking round belligerently.</p> + +<p>"Come, Bantam, don't crow so loud," interrupted the +big Ohioan; "nobody's going to fight you on that statement; +it's a shame, and no mistake. But what about your +paragon?"</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you. The Captain was trying to convince him +that they had better take what they could get till they got +the whole, and that, after all, it was but a paltry difference. +'But,' said the man, 'it's not the money, though plenty of us +are poor enough to make that an item. It's the badge of +disgrace, the stigma attached, the dishonor to the government. +If it were only two cents we wouldn't submit to it, +for the difference would be made because we are colored, +and we're not going to help degrade our own people, not +if we starve for it. Besides, it's our flag, and our government +now, and we've got to defend the honor of both against +any assailants, North or South,—whether they're Republican +Congressmen or rebel soldiers.' The Captain looked +puzzled at that, and asked what he meant. 'Why,' said he, +'the United States government enlisted us as soldiers. +Being such, we don't intend to disgrace the service by +accepting the pay of servants.'"</p> + +<p>"That's the kind of talk," bawled Jim from a fence-rail +upon which he was balancing. "I'd like to have a shake of +that fellow's paw. What's his name, d'ye know?"</p> + +<p>"Ercildoune."</p> + +<p>"Hey?"</p> + +<p>"Ercildoune."</p> + +<p>"Jemime! Ercildoune,—from Philadelphia, you say?"</p> + +<p>"Yes,—do you know him?"</p> + +<p>"Well, no,—I don't exactly know him, but I think I +know something about him. His pa's rich as a nob, if it's +the one I mean,"—and then finished sotto voce, "it's Mrs. +Surrey's brother, sure as a gun!"</p> + +<p>"Well, he ought to be rich, if he ain't. As we, that's the +Captain and me, were walking away, the Captain said to +one of the officers of the Fifty-fourth who'd been listening +to the talk, 'It's easy for that man to preach self-denial +for a principle. He's rich, I've heard. It don't hurt +him any; but it's rather selfish to hold some of the rest up +to his standard; and I presume that such a man as he has no +end of influence with them!'</p> + +<p>"'As he should,' said his officer. 'Ercildoune has brains +enough to stock a regiment, and refinement, and genius, +and cultivation that would assure him the highest position +in society or professional life anywhere out of America. +He won't leave it though; for in spite of its wrongs to him +he sees its greatness and goodness,—says that it is <i>his</i>, and +that it is to be saved, it and all its benefits, for Americans,—no +matter what the color of their skin,—of whom +he is one. He sees plain enough that this war is going to +break the slave's chain, and ultimately the stronger chain of +prejudice that binds his people to the grindstone, and he's +full of enthusiasm for it, accordingly; though I'm free to +confess, the magnanimity of these colored men from the +North who fight, on faith, for the government, is to me +something amazing.'"</p> + +<p>"'Why,' said the Captain,—'why, any more from the +North than from the South?'"</p> + +<p>"Why? the blacks down here can at least fight their ex-masters, +and pay off some old scores; but for a man from the +North who is free already, and so has nothing to gain in that +way,—whose rights as a man and a citizen are denied,—for +such a man to enlist and to fight, without bounty, pay, +honor, or promotion,—without the promise of gaining +anything whatever for himself,—condemned to a thankless +task on the one side,—to a merciless death or even worse +fate on the other,—facing all this because he has faith that +the great republic will ultimately be redeemed; that some +hands will gather in the harvest of this bloody sowing, +though he be lying dead under it,—I tell you, the more I +see of these men, the more I know of them, the more am +I filled with admiration and astonishment.</p> + +<p>"Now here's this one of whom we are talking, Ercildoune, +born with a silver spoon in his mouth: instead of +eating with it, in peace and elegance, in some European +home, look at him here. You said something about his lack +of self-sacrifice. He's doing 'what he is from a principle; +and beyond that, it's no wonder the men care for him: he +has spent a small fortune on the most needy of them since +they enlisted,—finding out which of them have families, +or any one dependent on them, and helping them in the +finest and most delicate way possible. There are others like +him here, and it's a fortunate circumstance, for there's not +a man but would suffer, himself,—and, what's more, let his +family suffer at home,—before he'd give up the idea for +which they are contending now."</p> + +<p>"'Well, good luck to them!' said the Captain as we +came away; and so say I," finished Jack.</p> + +<p>"And I,"—"And I," responded some of the men. "We +must see this man when they come over here."</p> + +<p>"I'll bet you a shilling," said Jim, pulling out a bit of +currency, "that he'll make his mark to-night."</p> + +<p>"Lend us the change, Given, and I'll take you up," said +one of the men.</p> + +<p>The others laughed. "He don't mean it," said Jim: which, +indeed, he didn't. Nobody seemed inclined to run any risks +by betting on the other side of so likely a proposition.</p> + +<p>This talk took place late in the afternoon, near the +head-quarters of the commanding General; and the men +directly scattered to prepare for the work of the evening: +some to clean a bayonet, or furbish up a rifle; others to chat +and laugh over the chances and to lay plans for the +morrow,—the morrow which was for them never to dawn +on earth; and yet others to sit down in their tents and write +letters to the dear ones at home, making what might, they +knew, be a final-farewell,—for the fight impending was to +be a fierce one,—or to read a chapter in a little book carried +from some quiet fireside, balancing accounts perchance, +in anticipation of the call of the Great Captain to +come up higher.</p> + +<p>Through the whole afternoon there had been a +tremendous cannonading of the fort from the gunboats +and the land forces: the smooth, regular engineer lines +were broken, and the fresh-sodded embankments torn and +roughened by the unceasing rain of shot and shell.</p> + +<p>About six o'clock there came moving up the island, +over the burning sands and under the burning sky, a stalwart, +splendid-appearing set of men, who looked equal to +any daring, and capable of any heroism; men whom +nothing could daunt and few things subdue. Now, weary, +travel-stained, with the mire and the rain of a two days' +tramp; weakened by the incessant strain and lack of food, +having taken nothing for forty-eight hours save some +crackers and cold coffee; with gaps in their ranks made by +the death of comrades who had fallen in battle but a little +time before,—under all these disadvantages, it was plain to +be seen of what stuff these men were made, and for what +work they were ready.</p> + +<p>As this regiment, the famous Fifty-fourth, came up the +island to take its place at the head of the storming party in +the assault on Wagner, it was cheered from all sides by the +white soldiers, who recognized and honored the heroism +which it had already shown, and of which it was soon to +give such new and sublime proof.</p> + +<p>The evening, or rather the afternoon, was a lurid and +sultry one. Great masses of clouds, heavy and black, were +piled in the western sky, fringed here and there by an +angry red, and torn by vivid streams of lightning. Not a +breath of wind shook the leaves or stirred the high, rank +grass by the water-side; a portentous and awful stillness +filled the air,—the stillness felt by nature before a devastating +storm. Quiet, with the like awful and portentous +calm, the black regiment, headed by its young, fair-haired, +knightly colonel, marched to its destined place and action.</p> + +<p>When within about six hundred yards of the fort it was +halted at the head of the regiments already stationed, and +the line of battle formed. The prospect was such as might +daunt the courage of old and well-tried veterans, but these +soldiers of a few weeks seemed but impatient to take the +odds, and to make light of impossibilities. A slightly rising +ground, raked by a murderous fire, to within a little distance +of the battery; a ditch holding three feet of water; a +straight lift of parapet, thirty feet high; an impregnable +position, held by a desperate and invincible foe.</p> + +<p>Here the men were addressed in a few brief and +burning words by their heroic commander. Here they +were besought to glorify their whole race by the lustre of +their deeds; here their faces shone with a look which said, +"Though men, we are ready to do deeds, to achieve triumphs, +worthy the gods!" here the word of command was +given:—</p> + +<p>"We are ordered and expected to take Battery Wagner +at the point of the bayonet. Are you ready?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, ay, sir! ready!" was the answer.</p> + +<p>And the order went pealing down the line, "Ready! +Close ranks! Charge bayonets! Forward! Double-quick, +march!"—and away they went, under a scattering fire, in +one compact line till within one hundred feet of the fort, +when the storm of death broke upon them. Every gun +belched forth its great shot and shell; every rifle whizzed +out its sharp-singing, death-freighted messenger. The men +wavered not for an instant;—forward,—forward they +went; plunged into the ditch; waded through the deep +water, no longer of muddy hue, but stained crimson with +their blood; and commenced to climb the parapet. The +foremost line fell, and then the next, and the next. The +ground was strewn with the wrecks of humanity, scattered +prostrate, silent, where they fell,—or rolling under the +very feet of the living comrades who swept onward to fill +their places. On, over the piled-up mounds of dead and +dying, of wounded and slain, to the mouth of the battery; +seizing the guns; bayoneting the gunners at their posts; +planting their flag and struggling around it; their leader on +the walls, sword in hand, his blue eyes blazing, his fair face +aflame, his clear voice calling out, "Forward, my brave +boys!"—then plunging into the hell of battle before him. +Forward it was. They followed him, gathered about him, +gained an angle of the fort, and fought where he fell, +around his prostrate body, over his peaceful heart,—shielding +its dead silence by their living, pulsating ones,—till +they, too, were stricken down; then hacked, hewn, battered, +mangled, heroic, yet overcome, the remnant was +beaten back.</p> + +<p>Ably sustained by their supporters, Anglo-African and +Anglo-Saxon vied together to carry off the palm of +courage and glory. All the world knows the last fought +with heroism sublime: all the world forgets this and them +in contemplating the deeds and the death of their compatriots. +Said Napoleon at Austerlitz to a young Russian +officer, overwhelmed with shame at yielding his sword, +"Young man, be consoled: those who are conquered by +my soldiers may still have titles to glory." To say that on that +memorable night the last were surpassed by the first is still +to leave ample margin on which to write in glowing characters +the record of their deeds.</p> + +<p>As the men were clambering up the parapet their color-sergeant +was shot dead, the colors trailing stained and wet +in the dust beside him. Ercildoune, who was just behind, +sprang forward, seized the staff from his dying hand, and +mounted with it upward. A ball struck his right arm, yet +ere it could fall shattered by his side, his left hand caught the +flag and carried it onward. Even in the mad sweep of assault +and death the men around him found breath and time to +hurrah, and those behind him pressed more gallantly forward +to follow such a lead. He kept in his place, the colors +flying,—though faint with loss of blood and wrung with +agony,—up the slippery steep; up to the walls of the fort; +on the wall itself, planting the flag where the men made +that brief, splendid stand, and melted away like snow before +furnace-heat. Here a bayonet thrust met him and brought +him down, a great wound in his brave breast, but he did not +yield; dropping to his knees, pressing his unbroken arm +upon the gaping wound,—bracing himself against a dead +comrade,—the colors still flew; an inspiration to the men +about him; a defiance to the foe.</p> + +<p>At last when the shattered ranks fell back, sullenly and +slowly retreating, it was seen by those who watched +him,—men lying for three hundred rods around in every +form of wounded suffering,—that he was painfully +working his way downward, still holding aloft the flag, +bent evidently on saving it, and saving it as flag had rarely, +if ever, been saved before.</p> + +<p>Some of the men had crawled, some had been carried, +some hastily caught up and helped by comrades to a sheltered +tent out of range of the fire; a hospital tent, they called +it, if anything could bear that name which was but a place +where men could lie to suffer and expire, without a bandage, +a surgeon, or even a drop of cooling water to moisten +parched and dying lips. Among these was Jim. He had a +small field-glass in his pocket, and forgot or ignored his pain +in his eager interest of watching through this the progress of +the man and the flag, and reporting accounts to his no less +eager companions. Black soldiers and white were alike mad +with excitement over the deed; and fear lest the colors +which had not yet dipped should at last bite the ground.</p> + +<p>Now and then he paused at some impediment: it was +where the dead and dying were piled so thickly as to +compel him to make a detour. Now and then he rested a +moment to press his arm tighter against his torn and open +breast. The rain fell in such torrents, the evening shadows +were gathering so thickly, that they could scarcely trace his +course, long before it was ended.</p> + +<p>Slowly, painfully, he dragged himself onward,—step by +step down the hill, inch by inch across the ground,—to the +door of the hospital; and then, while dying eyes brightened,—dying +hands and even shattered stumps were +thrown into the air,—in brief, while dying men held back +their souls from the eternities to cheer him,—gasped out, +"I did—but do—my duty, boys,—and the dear—old flag—never +once—touched the ground,"—and then, away from +the reach and sight of its foes, in the midst of its defenders, +who loved and were dying for it, the flag at last fell.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Meanwhile, other troops had gone up to the +encounter; other regiments strove to win what these men +had failed to gain; and through the night, and the storm, +and the terrific reception, did their gallant endeavor—in +vain.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The next day a flag of truce went up to beg the body +of the heroic young chief who had so led that marvellous +assault. It came back without him. A ditch, deep and wide, +had been dug; his body, and those of twenty-two of his +men found dead upon and about him, flung into it in one +common heap and the word sent back was, "We have +buried him with his niggers."</p> + +<p>It was well done. The fair, sweet face and gallant breast +lie peacefully enough under their stately monument of +ebony.</p> + +<p>It was well done. What more fitting close of such a +life,—what fate more welcome to him who had fought +with them, had loved, and believed in them, had led them +to death,—than to lie with them when they died?</p> + +<p>It was well done. Slavery buried these men, black and +white, together,—black and white in a common grave. Let +Liberty see to it, then, that black and white be raised +together in a life better than the old.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h2> + + +<p> +"<i>Spirits are not finely touched<br /> +But to fine issues.</i>"<br /> +<br /> +SHAKESPEARE<br /><br /><br /> +</p> + + +<p>Surrey was to depart for his command on Monday +night, and as there were various matters which +demanded his attention in town ere leaving, he drove +Francesca to the city on the preceding Sunday,—a soft +clear summer evening, full of pleasant sights and sounds. +They scarcely spoke as, hand in hand, they sat drinking in +the scene whilst the old gray, for they wished no high-stepping +prancers for this ride, jogged on the even tenor of +his way. Above them, the blue of the sky never before +seemed so deep and tender, while in it floated fleecy +clouds of delicate amber, rose, and gold, like gossamer +robes of happy spirits invisible to human eyes. The leaves +and grass just stirred in the breeze, making a slight, musical +murmur, and across them fell long shadows cast by the +westering sun. A sentiment so sweet and pleasurable as to +be tinged with pain, took possession of these young, susceptible +souls, as the influences of the time closed about +them. In our happiest moments, our moments of utmost +exaltation, it is always thus:—when earth most nearly +approaches the beatitudes of heaven, and the spirit +stretches forward with a vain longing for the far off, which +seems but a little way beyond; the unattained and dim, +which for a space come near.</p> + +<p>"Darling!" said Surrey softly, "does it not seem easy +now to die?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Willie," she whispered, "I feel as though it would +be stepping over a very little stream to some new and +beautiful shore."</p> + +<p>Doubtless, when a pure and great soul is close to eternity, +ministering angels draw nigh to one soon to be of their +number, and cast something of the peace and glory of their +presence on the spirit yet held by its cerements of clay.</p> + +<p>At last the ride and the evening had an end. The +country and its dear delights were mere memories,—fresh, +it is true, but memories still, and no longer realities,—in +the luxurious rooms of their hotel.</p> + +<p>Evidently Surrey had something to say, which he hesitated +and feared to utter. Again and again, when Francesca +was talking of his plans and purposes, trusting and hoping +that he might see no hard service, nor be called upon for +any exposing duty, "not yet awhile," she prayed, at least,—again +and again he made as if to speak, and then, ere she +could notice the movement, shook his head with a gesture +of silence, or—she seeing it, and asking what it was he had +to say—found ready utterance for some other thought, and +whispered to himself, "not yet; not quite yet. Let her rest +in peace a little space longer."</p> + +<p>They sat talking far into the night, this last night that +they could spend together in so long a time,—how long, +God, with whom are hid the secrets of the future, could +alone tell. They talked of what had passed, which was +ended,—and of what was to come, which was not sure but +full of hope,—but of both with a feeling that quickened +their heart-throbs, and brought happy tears to their eyes.</p> + +<p>Twice or thrice a sound from some far distance, undecided, +yet full of a solemn melody, came through the open +window, borne to their ears on the still air of night,—something +so undefined as not consciously to arrest their +attention, yet still penetrating their nerves and affecting +some fine, inner sense of feeling, for both shivered as +though a chill wind had blown across them, and Surrey—half +ashamed of the confession—said, "I don't know what +possesses me, but I hear dead marches as plainly as though +I were following a soldier's funeral."</p> + +<p>Francesca at that grew white, crept closer to his breast, +and spread out her arms as if to defend him by that slight +shield from some impending danger; then both laughed at +these foolish and superstitious fancies, and went on with +their cheerful and tender talk.</p> + +<p>Whatever the sound was, it grew plainer and came +nearer; and, pausing to listen, they discovered it was a +mighty swell of human voices and the marching of many +feet.</p> + +<p>"A regiment going through," said they, and ran to the +window to see if it passed their way, looking for it up the +long street, which lay solemn and still in the moonlight. +On either side the palace-like houses stood stately and +dark, like giant sentinels guarding the magnificent avenue, +from whence was banished every sight and sound of the +busy life of day; not a noise, not a footfall, not a solitary +soul abroad, not a wave nor a vestige of the great restless +sea of humanity which a little space before surged through +it, and which, in a little while to come, would rise and +swell to its full, and then ebb, and fall, and drop away once +more into silence and nothingness.</p> + +<p>Through this white stillness there came marching a +regiment of men, without fife or drum, moving to the +music of a refrain which lifted and fell on the quiet air. It +was the Battle Hymn of the Republic,—and the two listeners +presently distinguished the words,—</p> + +<p> +"In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea,<br /> +With a glory in his bosom that transfigures you and me;<br /> +As he died to make men holy, let us die to make men free,<br /> +While God is marching on."<br /> +</p> + +<p>The effect of this; the thousand voices which sang; the +marching of twice one thousand feet; the majesty of the +words; the deserted street; the clear moonlight streaming +over the men, reflected from their gleaming bayonets, +brightening the faded blue of their uniforms, illumining +their faces which, one and all, seemed to wear—and probably +<i>did</i> wear—a look more solemn and earnest than that of +common life and feeling,—the combined effect of it all was +something indescribably impressive:—inspiring, yet solemn.</p> + +<p>They stood watching and listening till the pageant had +vanished, and then turned back into their room, Francesca +taking up the refrain and singing the line,</p> + +<p> +"As he died to make men holy, let us die to make men free,<br /> +While God is marching on."<br /> +</p> + +<p>Surrey's face brightened at the rapt expression of hers. +"Sing it again, dearie!" he said. She sang it again. "Do you +mean it?" he asked then. "Can you sing it, and mean it +with all your heart, for me?"</p> + +<p>She looked at him with an expression of anxiety and +pain. "What are you asking, Willie?"</p> + +<p>He sat down; taking her upon his knee, and with the +old fond gesture, holding her head to his heart,—"I should +have told you before, dearie, but I did not wish to throw +any shadow on the happy days we have been spending +together; they were few and brief enough without marring +them; and I was certain of the effect it would have upon +you, by your incessant anxiety for Robert."</p> + +<p>She drew a long, gasping sigh, and started away from +his hold: "O Willie, you are not going to—"</p> + +<p>His arm drew her back to her resting-place. "I do not +return to my command, darling. I am to raise a black +brigade."</p> + +<p>"Freedmen?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, dearie."</p> + +<p>"O Willie,—and that act just passed!"</p> + +<p>"It is true; yet, after all, it is but one risk more."</p> + +<p>"One? O Willie, it is a thousand. You had that many +chances of escape where you were; you might be wounded +and captured a score of times, and come home safe at last; +but this!"</p> + +<p>"I know."</p> + +<p>"To go into every battle with the sentence of death +hanging over you; to know that if you are anywhere captured, +anyhow made prisoner, you are condemned to +die,—O Willie, I can't bear it; I can't bear it! I shall die, or +go mad, to carry such a thought all the time."</p> + +<p>For answer he only held her close, with his face resting +upon her hair, and in the stillness they could hear each +other's heart beat.</p> + +<p>"It is God's service," he said, at last.</p> + +<p>"I know."</p> + +<p>"It will end slavery and the war more effectually than +aught else."</p> + +<p>"I know."</p> + +<p>"It will make these freedmen, wherever they fight, free +men. It will give them and their people a sense of dignity +and power that might otherwise take generations to +secure."</p> + +<p>"I know."</p> + +<p>"And I. Both feeling and knowing this, who so fit to +yield and to do for such a cause? If those who see do not +advance, the blind will never walk."</p> + +<p>Silence for a space again fell between them. Francesca +moved in his arm.</p> + +<p>"Dearie." She looked up. "I want to do no half service. +I go into this heart and soul, but I do not wish to go alone. +It will be so much to me to know that you are quite +willing, and bade me go. Think what it is."</p> + +<p>She did. For an instant all sacrifices appeared easy, all +burdens light. She could send him out to death unfaltering. +One of those sublime moods in which martyrdom seems +glorious filled and possessed her. She took away her clinging +arms from his neck, and said, "Go,—whether it be for life +or for death; whether you come back to me or go up to +God; I am willing—glad—to yield you to such a cause."</p> + +<p>It was finished. There was nothing more to be said. +Both had climbed the mount of sacrifice, and sat still with +God.</p> + +<p>After a while the cool gray dawn stole into their room. +The night had passed in this communion, and another day +come.</p> + +<p>There were many "last things" which claimed Surrey's +attention; and he, wishing to get through them early so as +to have the afternoon and evening undisturbed with +Francesca, plunged into a stinging bath to refresh him for +the day, breakfasted, and was gone.</p> + +<p>He attended to his business, came across many an old +acquaintance and friend, some of whom greeted him +coldly; a few cut him dead; whilst others put out their +hands with cordial frankness, and one or two congratulated +him heartily upon his new condition and happiness. +These last gave him fresh courage for the task which he +had set himself. If friends regarded the matter thus, surely +they—his father and mother—would relent, when he +came to say what might be a final adieu.</p> + +<p>He ran up the steps, rang the bell, and, speaking a +pleasant word to the old servant, went directly to his +mother's room. His father had not yet gone down town; +thus he found them together. They started at seeing him, +and his mother, forgetting for the instant all her pride, chagrin, +and anger, had her arms about his neck, with the cry, +"O Willie, Willie," which came from the depths of her +heart; then seeing her husband's face, and recovering herself, +sat down cold and still.</p> + +<p>It was a painful interview. He could not leave without +seeing them once more; he longed for a loving good by; +but after that first outburst he almost wished he had not +forced the meeting. He did not speak of his wife, nor did +they; but a barrier as of adamant was raised between them, +and he felt as though congealing in the breath of an iceberg. +At length he rose to go.</p> + +<p>"Father!" he said then, "perhaps you will care to know +that I do not return to my old command, but have been +commissioned to raise a brigade from the freedmen."</p> + +<p>Both father and mother knew the awful peril of this +service, and both cried, half in suffering, half in anger, +"This is your wife's work!" while his father added, with a +passionate exclamation, "It is right, quite right, that you +should identify yourself with her people. Well, go your +way. You have made your bed; lie in it."</p> + +<p>The blood flushed into Surrey's face. He opened his +lips, and shut them again. At last he said, "Father, will you +never forego this cruel prejudice?"</p> + +<p>"Never!" answered his mother, quickly. "Never!" +repeated his father, with bitter emphasis. "It is a feeling that +will never die out, and ought never to die out, so long as +any of the race remain in America. She belongs to it, that +is enough."</p> + +<p>Surrey urged no further; but with few words, constrained +on their part,—though under its covering of pride +the mother's heart was bleeding for him,—sad and earnest +on his, the farewell was spoken, and they watched him out +of the room. How and when would they see him again?</p> + +<p>There was one other call upon his time. The day was +wearing into the afternoon, but he would not neglect it. +This was to see his old <i>protégé</i>, Abram Franklin, in whom +he had never lost interest, and for whose welfare he had +cared, though he had not seen him in more than two years. +He knew that Abram was ill, had been so for a long time, +and wished to see him and speak to him a few friendly and +cheering words,—sure, from what the boy's own hand had +written, that this would be his last opportunity upon earth +to so do.</p> + +<p>Thus he went on from his father's stately palace up +Fifth Avenue, turned into the quiet side street, and +knocked at the little green door. Mrs. Franklin came to +open it, her handsome face thinner and sadder than of old. +She caught Surrey's hand between both of hers with a +delighted cry: "Is it you, Mr. Willie? How glad I am to see +you! How glad Abram will be! How good of you to +come!" And, holding his hand as she used when he was a +boy, she led him up stairs to the sick-room. This room was +even cosier than the two below; its curtains and paper +cheerfuller; its furniture of quainter and more hospitable +aspect; its windows letting in more light and air; everything +clean and homely, and pleasant for weary, suffering eyes to +look upon.</p> + +<p>Abram was propped up in bed, his dark, intelligent +face worn to a shadow, fiery spots breaking through the +tawny hue upon cheeks and lips, his eyes bright with fever. +Surrey saw, as he came and sat beside him, that for him +earthly sorrow and toil were almost ended.</p> + +<p>He had brought some fruit and flowers, and a little +book. This last Abram, having thanked him eagerly for all, +stretched out his hand to examine.</p> + +<p>"You see, Mr. Willie, I have not gotten over my old +love," he said, as his fingers closed upon it. "Whittier? 'In +War-Time'? That is fine. I can read about it, if I can't do +anything in it," and he lay for a while quietly turning over +the pages. Mrs. Franklin had gone out to do an errand, and +the two were alone.</p> + +<p>"Do you know, Mr. Willie," said Abram, putting his +finger upon the titles of two successive poems, "The +Waiting," and "The Summons," "I had hard work to submit +to this sickness a few months ago? I fought against it +strong; do you know why?"</p> + +<p>"Not your special reason. What was it?"</p> + +<p>"I had waited so long, you see,—I, and my people,—for +a chance. It made me quite wild to watch this big fight +go on, and know that it was all about us, and not be +allowed to participate; and at last when the chance came, +and the summons, and the way was opened, I couldn't +answer, nor go. It's not the dying I care for; I'd be willing +to die the first battle I was in; but I want to do something +for the cause before death comes."</p> + +<p>The book was lying open where it had fallen from his +hand, and Surrey, glancing down at the very poem of +which he spoke, said gently, "Here is your answer, +Franklin, better than any I can make; it ought to comfort +you; listen, it is God's truth!</p> + +<p> +'O power to do! O baffled will!<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">O prayer and action! ye are one;</span><br /> +Who may not strive may yet fulfil<br /> +The harder task of standing still,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And good but wished with God is done!'"</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>"It is so," said Abram. "You act and I pray, and you act +for me and mine. I'd like to be under you when you get +the troops you were telling me about; but—God knows +best."</p> + +<p>Surrey sat gazing earnestly into space, crowded by +emotions called up by these last words, whilst Abram lay +watching him with admiring and loving eyes. "For me and +mine," he repeated softly, his look fastening on the blue +sleeve, which hung, limp and empty, near his hand. This +he put out cautiously, but drew it back at some slight +movement from his companion; then, seeing that he was +still absorbed, advanced it, once more, and slowly, timidly, +gently, lifted it to his mouth, pressing his lips upon it as +upon a shrine. "For me and mine!" he whispered,—"for +me and mine!" tears dimming the pathetic, dying eyes.</p> + +<p>The peaceful quiet was broken by a tempest of awful +sound,—groans and shrieks and yells mingled in horrible +discord, blended with the trampling of many feet,—noises +which seemed to their startled and excited fancies like +those of hell itself. The next moment a door was flung +open; and Mrs. Franklin, bruised, lame, her garments torn, +blood flowing from a cut on her head, staggered into the +room. "O Lord! O Lord Jesus!" she cried, "the day of +wrath has come!" and fell, shuddering and crying, on the +floor.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> + +<p> +"<i>Will the future come? It seems that we may almost ask<br /> +this question, when we see such terrible shadow.</i>"<br /> +<br /> +VICTOR HUGO<br /><br /><br /> +</p> + + +<p>Here it will be necessary to consider some facts +which, while they are rather in the domain of +the grave recorder of historical events, than in that of the +narrator of personal experiences, are yet essential to the +comprehension of the scenes in which Surrey and +Francesca took such tragic parts.</p> + +<p>Following the proclamation for a draft in the city of +New York, there had been heard on all sides from the +newspaper press which sympathized with and aided the +rebellion, premonitions of the coming storm; denunciations +of the war, the government, the soldiers, of the +harmless and inoffensive negroes; angry incitings of the +poor man to hatred against the rich, since the rich man +could save himself from the necessity of serving in the +ranks by the payment of three hundred dollars of commutation +money; incendiary appeals to the worst passions of +the most ignorant portion of the community; and open +calls to insurrection and arms to resist the peaceable +enforcement of a law enacted in furtherance of the +defence of the nation's life.</p> + +<p>Doubtless this outbreak had been intended at the time +of the darkest and most disastrous days of the Republic; +when the often-defeated and sorely dispirited Army of the +Potomac was marching northward to cover Washington +and Baltimore, and the victorious legions of traitors under +Lee were swelling across the border, into a loyal State; +when Grant stood in seemingly hopeless waiting before +Vicksburg, and Banks before Port Hudson; and the whole +people of the North, depressed and disheartened by the +continued series of defeats to our arms, were beginning to +look each at his neighbor, and whisper with white lips, +"Perhaps, after all, this struggle is to be in vain."</p> + +<p>Had it been attempted at this precise time, it would, +without question, have been, not a riot, but an insurrection,—would +have been a portion of the army of rebellion, +organized and effective for the prosecution of the +war, and not a mob, hideous and devilish in its work of +destruction, yet still a mob; and as such to be beaten down +and dispersed in a comparatively short space of time.</p> + +<p>On the morning of Monday, the thirteenth of July, +began this outbreak, unparalleled in atrocities by anything +in American history, and equalled only by the horrors of +the worst days of the French Revolution. Gangs of men +and boys, composed of railroad <i>employées</i>, workers in +machine-shops, and a vast crowd of those who lived by +preying upon others, thieves, pimps, professional ruffians,—the +scum of the city,—jail-birds, or those who +were running with swift feet to enter the prison-doors, +began to gather on the corners, and in streets and alleys +where they lived; from thence issuing forth they visited the +great establishments on the line of their advance, commanding +their instant close and the companionship of the +workmen,—many of them peaceful and orderly men,—on +pain of the destruction of one and a murderous assault +upon the other, did not their orders meet with instant +compliance.</p> + +<p>A body of these, five or six hundred strong, gathered +about one of the enrolling-offices in the upper part of the +city, where the draft was quietly proceeding, and opened +the assault upon it by a shower of clubs, bricks, and +paving-stones torn from the streets, following it up by a +furious rush into the office. Lists, records, books, the +drafting-wheel, every article of furniture or work in the +room was rent in pieces, and strewn about the floor or +flung into the street; while the law officers, the newspaper +reporters,—who are expected to be everywhere,—and the +few peaceable spectators, were compelled to make a hasty +retreat through an opportune rear exit, accelerated by the +curses and blows of the assailants.</p> + +<p>A safe in the room, which contained some of the hated +records, was fallen upon by the men, who strove to wrench +open its impregnable lock with their naked hands, and, +baffled, beat them on its iron doors and sides till they were +stained with blood, in a mad frenzy of senseless hate and +fury. And then, finding every portable article destroyed,—their +thirst for ruin growing by the little drink it had +had,—and believing, or rather hoping, that the officers had +taken refuge in the upper rooms, set fire to the house, and +stood watching the slow and steady lift of the flames, +filling the air with demoniac shrieks and yells, while they +waited for the prey to escape from some door or window, +from the merciless fire to their merciless hands. One of +these, who was on the other side of the street, courageously +stepped forward, and, telling them that they had +utterly demolished all they came to seek, informed them +that helpless women and little children were in the house, +and besought them to extinguish the flames and leave the +ruined premises; to disperse, or at least to seek some other +scene.</p> + +<p>By his dress recognizing in him a government official, +so far from hearing or heeding his humane appeal, they set +upon him with sticks and clubs, and beat him till his eyes +were blind with blood, and he—bruised and mangled—succeeded +in escaping to the handful of police who stood +helpless before this howling crew, now increased to thousands. +With difficulty and pain the inoffensive tenants +escaped from the rapidly spreading fire, which, having +devoured the house originally lighted, swept across the +neighboring buildings till the whole block stood a mass of +burning flames. The firemen came up tardily and reluctantly, +many of them of the same class as the miscreants +who surrounded them, and who cheered at their +approach, but either made no attempt to perform their +duty, or so feeble and farcical a one, as to bring disgrace +upon a service they so generally honor and ennoble.</p> + +<p>At last, when there was here nothing more to accomplish, +the mob, swollen to a frightful size, including myriads +of wretched, drunken women, and the half-grown, +vagabond boys of the pavements, rushed through the +intervening streets, stopping cars and insulting peaceable +citizens on their way, to an armory where were manufactured +and stored carbines and guns for the government. In +anticipation of the attack, this, earlier in the day, had been +fortified by a police squad capable of coping with an ordinary +crowd of ruffians, but as chaff before fire in the presence +of these murderous thousands. Here, as before, the +attack was begun by a rain of missiles gathered from the +streets; less fatal, doubtless, than more civilized arms, but +frightful in the ghastly wounds and injuries they inflicted. +Of this no notice was taken by those who were stationed +within; it was repeated. At last, finding they were treated +with contemptuous silence, and that no sign of surrender +was offered, the crowd swayed back,—then forward,—in a +combined attempt to force the wide entrance-doors. +Heavy hammers and sledges, which had been brought +from forges and workshops, caught up hastily as they gathered +the mechanics into their ranks, were used with +frightful violence to beat them in,—at last successfully. +The foremost assailants began to climb the stairs, but were +checked, and for the moment driven back by the fire of +the officers, who at last had been commanded to resort to +their revolvers. A half-score fell wounded; and one, who +had been acting in some sort as their leader,—a big, brutal, +Irish ruffian,—dropped dead.</p> + +<p>The pause was but for an instant. As the smoke cleared +away there was a general and ferocious onslaught upon the +armory; curses, oaths, revilings, hideous and obscene blasphemy, +with terrible yells and cries, filled the air in every +accent of the English tongue save that spoken by a native +American. Such were there mingled with the sea of sound, +but they were so few and weak as to be unnoticeable in the +roar of voices. The paving stones flew like hail, until the +street was torn into gaps and ruts, and every window-pane, +and sash, and doorway, was smashed or broken. Meanwhile, +divers attempts were made to fire the building, but +failed through haste or ineffectual materials, or the vigilant +watchfulness of the besieged. In the midst of this gallant +defence, word was brought to the defenders from head-quarters +that nothing could be done for their support; and +that, if they would save their lives, they must make a quick +and orderly retreat. Fortunately, there was a side passage +with which the mob was unacquainted, and, one by one +they succeeded in gaining this, and vanishing. A few, too +faithful or too plucky to retreat before such a foe, persisted +in remaining at their posts till the fire, which had at last +been communicated to the building, crept unpleasantly +near; then, by dropping from sill to sill of the broken +windows, or sliding by their hands and feet down the rough +pipes and stones, reached the pavement,—but not without +injuries and blows, and broken bones, which disabled for a +lifetime, if indeed they did not die in the hospitals to +which a few of the more mercifully disposed carried them.</p> + +<p>The work thus begun, continued,—gathering in force +and fury as the day wore on. Police stations, enrolling-offices, +rooms or buildings used in any way by government +authority, or obnoxious as representing the dignity of law, +were gutted, destroyed, then left to the mercy of the +flames. Newspaper offices, whose issues had been a fire in +the rear of the nation's armies by extenuating and +defending treason, and through violent and incendiary +appeals stirring up "lewd fellows of the baser sort" to this +very carnival of ruin and blood, were cheered as the crowd +went by. Those that had been faithful to loyalty and law +were hooted, stoned, and even stormed by the army of +miscreants who were only driven off by the gallant and +determined charge of the police, and in one place by the +equally gallant, and certainly unique defence, which came +from turning the boiling water from the engines upon the +howling wretches, who, unprepared for any such warm +reception as this, beat a precipitate and general retreat. +Before night fell it was no longer one vast crowd collected +in a single section, but great numbers of gatherings, +scattered over the whole length and breadth of the city,—some +of them engaged in actual work of demolition and +ruin; others with clubs and weapons in their hands, +prowling round apparently with no definite atrocity to +perpetrate, but ready for any iniquity that might offer,—and, +by way of pastime, chasing every stray police officer, +or solitary soldier, or inoffensive negro, who crossed the +line of their vision; these three objects—the badge of a +defender of the law,—the uniform of the Union army,—the +skin of a helpless and outraged race—acted upon these +madmen as water acts upon a rabid dog.</p> + +<p>Late in the afternoon a crowd which could have numbered +not less than ten thousand, the majority of whom +were ragged, frowzy, drunken women, gathered about the +Orphan Asylum for Colored Children,—a large and beautiful +building, and one of the most admirable and noble +charities of the city. When it became evident, from the +menacing cries and groans of the multitude, that danger, if +not destruction, was meditated to the harmless and inoffensive +inmates, a flag of truce appeared, and an appeal was +made in their behalf, by the principal, to every sentiment +of humanity which these beings might possess,—a vain +appeal! Whatever human feeling had ever, if ever, filled +these souls was utterly drowned and washed away in the +tide of rapine and blood in which they had been steeping +themselves. The few officers who stood guard over the +doors, and manfully faced these demoniac legions, were +beaten down and flung to one side, helpless and stunned +whilst the vast crowd rushed in. All the articles upon +which they could seize—beds, bedding, carpets, furniture,—the +very garments of the fleeing inmates, some of +these torn from their persons as they sped by—were carried +into the streets, and hurried off by the women and +children who stood ready to receive the goods which their +husbands, sons, and fathers flung to their care. The little +ones, many of them, assailed and beaten; all,—orphans and +caretakers,—exposed to every indignity and every danger, +driven on to the street,—the building was fired. This had +been attempted whilst the helpless children—some of +them scarce more than babies—were still in their rooms; +but this devilish consummation was prevented by the +heroism of one man. He, the Chief of the Fire Department, +strove by voice and arm to stay the endeavor; and +when, overcome by superior numbers, the brands had +been lit and piled, with naked hands, and in the face of +threatened death, he tore asunder the glowing embers, and +trod them under foot. Again the effort was made, and +again failed through the determined and heroic opposition +of this solitary soul. Then, on the front steps, in the midst +of these drunken and infuriate thousands, he stood up and +besought them, if they cared nothing for themselves nor +for these hapless orphans, that they would not bring lasting +disgrace upon the city by destroying one of its noblest +charities, which had for its object nothing but good.</p> + +<p>He was answered on all sides by yells and execrations, +and frenzied shrieks of "Down with the nagurs!" coupled +with every oath and every curse that malignant hate of the +blacks could devise, and drunken, Irish tongues could +speak. It had been decreed that this building was to be +razed to the ground. The house was fired in a thousand +places, and in less than two hours the walls crashed in,—a +mass of smoking, blackened ruins; whilst the children +wandered through the streets, a prey to beings who were +wild beasts in everything save the superior ingenuity of +man to agonize and torture his victims.</p> + +<p>Frightful as the day had been, the night was yet more +hideous; since to the horrors which were seen was added +the greater horror of deeds which might be committed in +the darkness; or, if they were seen, it was by the lurid glare +of burning buildings,—the red flames of which—flung +upon the stained and brutal faces, the torn and tattered +garments, of men and women who danced and howled +around the scene of ruin they had caused—made the +whole aspect of affairs seem more like a gathering of +fiends rejoicing in Pandemonium than aught with which +creatures of flesh and blood had to do.</p> + +<p>Standing on some elevated point, looking over the +great city, which presented, as usual, at night, a solemn and +impressive show, the spectator was thrilled with a fearful +admiration by the sights and sounds which gave to it a +mysterious and awful interest. A thousand fires streamed +up against the sky, making darkness visible; and from all +sides came a combination of noises such as might be heard +from an asylum in which were gathered the madmen of +the world.</p> + +<p>The next morning's sun rose on a city which was ruled +by a reign of terror. Had the police possessed the heads of +Hydra and the arms of Briareus, and had these heads all +seen, these arms all fought, they would have been powerless +against the multitude of opposers. Outbreaks were +made, crowds gathered, houses burned, streets barricaded, +fights enacted, in a score of places at once. Where the officers +appeared they were irretrievably beaten and overcome; +their stand, were it ever so short, but inflaming the +passions of the mob to fresh deeds of violence. Stores were +closed; the business portion of the city deserted; the large +works and factories emptied of men, who had been sent +home by their employers, or were swept into the ranks of +the marauding bands. The city cars, omnibuses, hacks, +were unable to run, and remained under shelter. Every +telegraph wire was cut, the posts torn up, the operators +driven from their offices. The mayor, seeing that civil +power was helpless to stem this tide, desired to call the military +to his aid, and place the city under martial law, but +was opposed by the Governor,—a governor, who, but a +few days before, had pronounced the war a failure; and not +only predicted, but encouraged this mob rule, which was +now crushing everything beneath its heavy and ensanguined +feet. This man, through almost two days of these +awful scenes, remained at a quiet seaside retreat but a few +miles from the city. Coming to it on the afternoon of the +second day,—instead of ordering cannon planted in the +streets, giving these creatures opportunity to retire to their +homes, and, in the event of refusal, blowing them there by +powder and ball,—he first went to the point where was +collected the chiefest mob, and proceeded to address them. +Before him stood incendiaries, thieves, and murderers, +who even then were sacking dwelling-houses, and +butchering powerless and inoffensive beings. These +wretches he apostrophized as "My friends," repeating the +title again and again in the course of his harangue, assuring +them that he was there as a proof of his friendship,—which +he had demonstrated by "sending his adjutant-general +to Washington, to have the draft stopped"; begging +them to "wait for his return"; "to separate now as good citizens"; +with the promise that they "might assemble again +whenever they wished to so do"; meanwhile, he would +"take care of their rights." This model speech was incessantly +interrupted by tremendous cheering and frantic +demonstrations of delight,—one great fellow almost +crushing the Governor in his enthusiastic embrace. This +ended, he entered a carriage, and was driven through the +blackened, smoking scenes of Monday's devastations; +through fresh vistas of outrage, of the day's execution; +bland, gracious, smiling. Wherever he appeared, cheer +upon cheer rent the air from these crowds of drunken blasphemers; +and in one place the carriage in which he sat was +actually lifted from the ground, and carried some rods, by +hands yet red with deeds of arson and murder; while from +all sides voices cried out, "Will ye stop the draft, Gov'nur?" +"Bully boy!" "Ye're the man for us!" "Hooray for Gov'nur +Saymoor!" Thus, through the midst of this admiring and +applauding crowd, this high officer of the law, sworn to +maintain public peace, moved to his hotel, where he was +met by a despatch from Washington, informing him that +five regiments were under arms and on their way to put an +end to this bloody assistance to the Southern war.</p> + +<p>His allies in newspaper offices attempted to throw the +blame upon the loyal press and portion of the community. +This was but a repetition of the cry, raised by traitors in +arms, that the government, struggling for life in their +deadly hold, was responsible for the war: "If thou wouldst +but consent to be murdered peaceably, there could be no +strife."</p> + +<p>These editors outraged common sense, truth, and +decency, by speaking of the riots as an "uprising of the +people to defend their liberties,"—"an opposition on the +part of the workingmen to an unjust and oppressive law, +enacted in favor of the men of wealth and standing." As +though the <i>people</i> of the great metropolis were incendiaries, +robbers, and assassins; as though the poor were to +demonstrate their indignation against the rich by hunting +and stoning defenceless women and children; torturing and +murdering men whose only offence was the color God +gave them, or men wearing the self-same uniform as that +which they declared was to be thrust upon them at the +behest of the rich and the great.</p> + +<p>It was absurd and futile to characterize this new Reign +of Terror as anything but an effort on the part of Northern +rebels to help Southern ones, at the most critical moment +of the war,—with the State militia and available troops +absent in a neighboring Commonwealth,—and the loyal +people unprepared. These editors and their coadjutors, +men of brains and ability, were of that most poisonous +growth,—traitors to the Government and the flag of their +country,—renegade Americans. Let it, however, be +written plainly and graven deeply, that the tribes of savages—the +hordes of ruffians—found ready to do their +loathsome bidding, were not of native growth, nor American +born.</p> + +<p>While it is true that there were some glib-tongued fellows +who spoke the language without foreign accent, all of +them of the lowest order of Democratic ward-politicians, +of creatures skulking from the outstretched arm of +avenging law; while the most degraded of the German +population were represented; while it is also true that there +were Irish, and Catholic Irish too,—industrious, sober, +intelligent people,—who indignantly refused participation +in these outrages, and mourned over the barbarities which +were disgracing their national name; it is pre-eminently +true,—proven by thousands of witnesses, and testified to +by numberless tongues,—that the masses, the rank and file, +the almost entire body of rioters, were the worst classes of +Irish emigrants, infuriated by artful appeals, and maddened +by the atrocious whiskey of thousands of grog-shops.</p> + +<p>By far the most infamous part of these cruelties was +that which wreaked every species of torture and lingering +death upon the colored people of the city,—men, women, +and children, old and young, strong and feeble alike. Hundreds +of these fell victims to the prejudice fostered by +public opinion, incorporated in our statute-books, sanctioned +by our laws, which here and thus found legitimate +outgrowth and action. The horrors which blanched the +face of Christendom were but the bloody harvest of fields +sown by society, by cultured men and women, by speech, +and book, and press, by professions and politics, nay, by the +pulpit itself, and the men who there make God's truth a +lie,—garbling or denying the inspired declaration that "He +has made of one blood all people to dwell upon the face +of the earth"; and that he, the All-Just and Merciful One, +"is no respecter of persons."</p> + +<p>This riot, begun ostensibly to oppose the enforcement +of a single law, developed itself into a burning and pillaging +assault upon the homes and property of peaceful citizens. To +realize this, it was only necessary to walk the streets, if that +were possible, through those days of riot and conflagration, +observe the materials gathered into the vast, moving multitudes, +and scrutinize the faces of those of whom they were +composed,—deformed, idiotic, drunken, imbecile, poverty-stricken; +seamed with every line which wretchedness could +draw or vicious habits and associations delve. To walk these +streets and look upon these faces was like a fearful witnessing +in perspective of the last day, when the secrets of life, more +loathsome than those of death, shall be laid bare in all their +hideous deformity and ghastly shame.</p> + +<p>The knowledge of these people and their deeds was +sufficient to create a paralysis of fear, even where they were +not seen. Indeed, there was terror everywhere. High and +low, rich and poor, cultured and ignorant, all shivered in its +awful grasp. Upon stately avenues and noisome alleys it fell +with the like blackness of darkness. Women cried aloud to +God with the same agonized entreaty from knees bent on +velvet carpets or bare and dingy floors. Men wandered up +and down, prisoners in their own homes, and cursed or +prayed with equal fury or intensity whether the homes +were simple or splendid. Here one surveyed all his costly +store of rare and exquisite surroundings, and shook his +head as he gazed, ominous and foreboding. There, another +of darker hue peered out from garret casement, or cellar +light, or broken window-pane, and, shuddering, watched +some woman stoned and beaten till she died; some child +shot down, while thousands of heavy, brutal feet trod over +it till the hard stones were red with its blood, and the little +prostrate form, yet warm, lost every likeness of humanity, +and lay there, a sickening mass of mangled flesh and bones; +some man assaulted, clubbed, overborne, left wounded or +dying or dead, as he fell, or tied to some convenient tree or +lamp-post to be hacked and hewn, or flayed and roasted, +yet living, where he hung,—and watching this, and cowering +as he watched, held his breath, and waited his own +turn, not knowing when it might come.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX</h2> + +<p> +"<i>In breathless quiet, after all their ills.</i>"<br /> +<br /> +ARNOLD<br /><br /><br /> +</p> + + +<p>A body of these wretches, fresh from some act of +rapine and pillage, had seen Mrs. Franklin, hastening +home, and, opening the hue and cry, had started in +full chase after her. Struck by sticks and stones that darkened +the air, twice down, fleeing as those only do who flee +for life, she gained her own house, thinking there to find +security. Vain hope! the door was battered in, the windows +demolished, the puny barriers between the room in which +they were gathered and the creatures in pursuit, speedily +destroyed,—and these three turned to face death.</p> + +<p>By chance, Surrey had his sword at his side, and, +tearing this from its scabbard, sprang to the defence,—a +gallant intent, but what could one weapon and one arm do +against such odds as these? He was speedily beaten down +and flung aside by the miscreants who swarmed into the +room. It was marvellous they did not kill him outright. +Doubtless they would have done so but for the face +propped against the pillows, which caught their hungry +eyes. Soldier and woman were alike forgotten at sight of +this dying boy. Here was a foeman worthy their steel. They +gathered about him, and with savage hands struck at him +and the bed upon which he lay.</p> + +<p>A pause for a moment to hold consultation, crowded +with oaths and jeers and curses; obscenity and blasphemy +too hideous to read or record,—then the cruel hands tore +him from his bed, dragged him over the prostrate body of +his mother, past the senseless form of his brave young +defender, out to the street. Here they propped him against +a tree, to mock and torment him; to prick him, wound +him, torture him; to task endurance to its utmost limit, but +not to extinguish life. These savages had no such mercy as +this in their souls; and when, once or twice he fell away +into insensibility, a cut or blow administered with devilish +skill or strength, restored him to anguish and to life.</p> + +<p>Surrey, bewildered and dizzy, had recovered consciousness, +and sat gazing vacantly around him, till the cries and +yells without, the agonized face within, thrilled every +nerve into feeling. Starting up, he rushed to the window, +but recoiled at the awful sight. Here, he saw, there was no +human power within reach or call that could interfere. +The whole block, from street to street, was crowded with +men and boys, armed with the armory of the street, and +rejoicing like veritable fiends of hell over the pangs of +their victim.</p> + +<p>Even in the moment he stood there he beheld that +which would haunt his memory, did it endure for a century. +At last, tired of their sport, some of those who were +just about Abram had tied a rope about his body, and raised +him to the nearest branch of an overhanging tree; then, +heaping under him the sticks and clubs which were flung +them from all sides, set fire to the dry, inflammable pile, +and watched, for the moment silent, to see it burn.</p> + +<p>Surrey fled to the other side of the room, and, cowering +down, buried his head in his arm to shut out the +awful sight and sounds. But his mother,—O marvellous, +inscrutable mystery of mother-love!—his mother knelt by +the open window, near which hung her boy, and prayed +aloud, that he might hear, for the wrung body and passing +soul. Great God! that such things were possible, and thy +heavens fell not! Through the sound of falling blows, +reviling oaths, and hideous blasphemy, through the crackling +of burning fagots and lifting flames, there went out no +cry for mercy, no shriek of pain, no wail of despair. But +when the torture was almost ended, and nature had +yielded to this work of fiends, the dying face was turned +towards his mother,—the eyes, dim with the veil that falls +between time and eternity, seeking her eyes with their +latest glance,—the voice, not weak, but clear and thrilling +even in death, cried for her ear, "Be of good cheer, +mother! they may kill the body, but they cannot touch the +soul!" and even with the words the great soul walked with +God.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>After a while the mob melted out of the street to seek new +scenes of ravage and death; not, however, till they had +marked the house, as those within learned, for the purpose +of returning, if it should so please them, at some future +time.</p> + +<p>When they were all gone, and the way was clear, these +two—the mother that bore him, the elegant patrician who +instinctively shrank from all unpleasant and painful +things—took down the poor charred body, and carrying it +carefully and tenderly into the house of a trembling +neighbor, who yet opened her doors and bade them in, +composed it decently for its final rest.</p> + +<p>It was drawing towards evening, and Surrey was eager +to get away from this terrible region,—both to take the +heart-stricken woman, thus thrown upon his care, to some +place of rest and safety, and to reassure Francesca, who, he +knew, would be filled with maddening anxiety and fear at +his long absence.</p> + +<p>At length they ventured forth: no one was in the +square;—turned at Fortieth Street,—all clear;—went on +with hasty steps to the Avenue,—not a soul in sight. +"Safe,—thank God!" exclaimed Surrey, as he hurried his +companion onward. Half the space to their destination had +been crossed, when a band of rioters, rushing down the +street from the sack and burning of the Orphan Asylum, +came upon them. Defence seemed utterly vain. Every +house was shut; its windows closed and barred; its inmates +gathered in some rear room. Escape and hope appeared +alike impossible; but Surrey, flinging his charge behind +him, with drawn sword, face to the on-sweeping hordes, +backed down the street. The combination—a negro +woman, a soldier's uniform—intensified the mad fury of +the mob, which was nevertheless held at bay by the heroic +front and gleaming steel of their single adversary. Only for +a moment! Then, not venturing near him, a shower of +bricks and stones hurtled through the air, falling about and +upon him.</p> + +<p>At this instant a voice called, "This way! this way! For +God's sake! quick! quick!" and he saw a friendly black face +and hand thrust from an area window. Still covering with +his body his defenceless charge, he moved rapidly towards +this refuge. Rapid as was the motion, it was not speedy +enough; he reached the railing, caught her with his one +powerful arm, imbued now with a giant's strength, flung +her over to the waiting hands that seized and dragged her +in, pausing for an instant, ere he leaped himself, to beat +back a half-dozen of the foremost miscreants, who would +else have captured their prey, just vanishing from sight. +Sublime, yet fatal delay! but an instant, yet in that instant a +thousand forms surrounded him, disarmed him, overcame +him, and beat him down.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile what of Francesca? The morning passed, +and with its passing came terrible rumors of assault and +death. The afternoon began, wore on,—the rumors deepened +to details of awful facts and realities; and he—he, +with his courage, his fatal dress—was absent, was on those +death-crowded streets. She wandered from room to room, +forgetting her reserve, and accosting every soul she met for +later news,—for information which, received, did but torture +her with more intolerable pangs, and send her to her +knees; though, kneeling, she could not pray, only cry out +in some dumb, inarticulate fashion, "God be merciful!"</p> + +<p>The afternoon was spent; the day gone; the summet +twilight deepening into night; and still he did not come. +She had caught up her hat and mantle with some insane +intention of rushing into the wide, wild city, on a frenzied +search, when two gentlemen passing by her door, talking +of the all-absorbing theme, arrested her ear and attention.</p> + +<p>"The house ought to be guarded! These devils will be +here presently,—they are on the Avenue now."</p> + +<p>"Good God! are you certain?"</p> + +<p>"Certain."</p> + +<p>"You may well be," said a third voice, as another step +joined theirs. "They are just above Thirtieth Street. I was +coming down the Avenue, and saw them myself. I don't +know what my fate would have been in this dress,"—Francesca +knew from this that he who talked was of the +police or soldiery,—"but they were engaged in fighting a +young officer, who made a splendid defence before they +cut him down; his courage was magnificent. It makes my +blood curdle to think of it. A fair-haired, gallant-looking +fellow, with only one arm. I could do nothing for him, of +course, and should have been killed had I stayed; so I ran +for life. But I don't think I'll ever quite forgive myself for +not rushing to the rescue, and taking my chance with +him."</p> + +<p>She did not stay to hear the closing words. Out of the +room, past them, like a spirit,—through the broad halls,—down +the wide stairways,—on to the street,—up the long +street, deserted here, but O, with what a crowd beyond!</p> + +<p>A company of soldiers, paltry in number, yet each +with loaded rifle and bayonet set, charged past her at +double-quick upon this crowd, which gave way slowly and +sullenly at its approach, holding with desperate ferocity +and determination to whatever ghastly work had been +employing their hands,—dropped at last,—left on the +stones,—the soldiers between it and the mob,—silent, +motionless,—she saw it, and knew it where it lay. O woful +sight and knowledge for loving eyes and bursting heart!</p> + +<p>Ere she reached it some last stones were flung by the +retreating crowd, a last shot fired in the air,—fired at +random, but speeding with as unerring aim to her aching, +anguished breast, death-freighted and life-destroying,—but +not till she had reached her destined point and end; not till +her feet failed close to that bruised and silent form; not till +she had sunk beside it, gathered it in her fair young arms, +and pillowed its beautiful head—from which streamed +golden hair, dabbled and blood-bestained—upon her +faithful heart.</p> + +<p>There it stirred; the eyes unclosed to meet hers, a +gleam of divine love shining through their fading fire; the +battered, stiffened arm lifted, as to fold her in the old +familiar caress. "Darling—die—to make—free"—came in +gasps from the sweet, yet whitening lips. Then she lay still. +Where his breath blew across her hair it waved, and her +bosom moved above the slow and labored beating of his +heart; but, save for this, she was as quiet as the peaceful +dead within their graves,—and, like them, done with the +noise and strife of time forever.</p> + +<p>For him,—the shadows deepened where he lay,—the +stars came out one by one, looking down with clear and +solemn eyes upon this wreck of fair and beautiful things, +wrought by earthly hate and the awful passions of men,—then +veiled their light in heavy and sombre clouds. The +rain fell upon the noble face and floating, sunny hair,—washing +them free of soil, and dark and fearful stains; +moistening the fevered, burning lips, and cooling the +bruised and aching frame. How passed the long night with +that half-insensible soul? God knoweth. The secrets of that +are hidden in the eternity to which it now belongs. Questionless, +ministering spirits drew near, freighted with balm +and inspiration; for when the shadows fled, and the next +morning's sun shone upon these silent forms, it revealed +faces radiant as with some celestial fire, and beatified as +reflecting the smile of God.</p> + +<p>The inmates of the house before which lay this solemn +mystery, rising to face a new-made day, looking out from +their windows to mark what traces were left of last night's +devastations, beheld this awful yet sublime sight.</p> + +<p>"A prejudice which, I trust, will never end," had Mr. +Surrey said, in bidding adieu to his son but a few short +hours before. This prejudice, living and active, had now +thus brought death and desolation to his own doors. "How +unsearchable are the judgments of God, and his ways past +finding out!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX</h2> + +<p> +"<i>Drink,—for thy necessity is yet greater than mine.</i>"<br /> +<br /> +SIR PHILIP SIDNEY<br /><br /><br /> +</p> + + +<p>The hospital boat, going out of Beaufort, was a sad, +yet great sight. It was but necessary to look around +it to see that the men here gathered had stood on the slippery +battle-sod, and scorned to flinch. You heard no cries, +scarcely a groan; whatever anguish wrung them as they were +lifted into their berths, or were turned or raised for comfort, +found little outward sign,—a long, gasping breath now and +then; a suppressed exclamation; sometimes a laugh, to cover +what would else be a cry of mortal agony; almost no +swearing; these men had been too near the awful realities of +death and eternity, some of them were still too near, to make +a mock at either. Having demonstrated themselves heroes in +action, they would, one and all, be equally heroes in the hour +of suffering, or on the bed of lingering death.</p> + +<p>Jim, so wounded as to make every movement a pang, +had been carefully carried in on a stretcher, and as carefully +lifted into a middle berth.</p> + +<p>"Good," said one of the men, as he eased him down +on his pillow.</p> + +<p>"What's good?" queried Jim.</p> + +<p>"The berth; middle berth. Put you in as easy as into the +lowest one: bad lifting such a leg as yours into the top one, +and it's the comfortablest of the three when you're in."</p> + +<p>"O, that's it, is it? all right; glad I'm here then; getting +in didn't hurt more than a flea-bite,"—saying which Jim +turned his face away to put his teeth down hard on a lip +already bleeding. The wrench to his shattered leg was +excruciating, "But then," as he announced to himself, "no +snivelling, James; you're not going to make a spooney of +yourself." Presently he moved, and lay quietly watching the +others they were bringing in.</p> + +<p>"Why!" he called, "that's Bertie Curtis, ain't it?" as a +slight, beautiful-faced boy was carried past him, and raised +to his place.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is," answered one of the men, shortly, to cover +some strong feeling.</p> + +<p>Jim leaned out of his berth, regardless of his protesting +leg, canteen in hand. "Here, Bertie!" he called, "my canteen's +full of fresh water, just filled. I know it'll taste good +to you."</p> + +<p>The boy's fine face flushed. "O, thank you, Given, it +would taste deliriously, but I can't take it,"—glancing +down. Jim followed the look, to see that both arms were +gone, close to the graceful, boyish form; seeing which his +face twitched painfully,—not with his own suffering,—and +for a moment words failed him. Just then came up one +of the sanitary nurses with some cooling drink, and fresh, +wet bandages for the fevered stumps.</p> + +<p>Great drops were standing on Bertie's forehead, and +ominous gray shadows had already settled about the +mouth, and under the long, shut lashes. Looking at the +face, so young, so refined, some mother's pride and darling, +the nurse brushed back tenderly the fair hair, murmuring, +"Poor fellow!"</p> + +<p>The eyes unclosed quickly: "There are no poor fellows +here, sir!" he said.</p> + +<p>"Well, brave fellow, then!"</p> + +<p>"I did but do my duty,"—a smile breaking through the +gathering mists.</p> + +<p>Here some poor fellow,—poor indeed,—delirious +with fever, called out, "Mother! mother! I want to see my +mother!"</p> + +<p>Tears rushed to the clear, steady eyes, dimmed them, +dropped down unchecked upon the face. The nurse, with +a sob choking in his throat, softly raised his hand to brush +them away. "Mother," Bertie whispered,—"mother!" and +was gone where God wipes away the tears from all eyes.</p> + +<p>For the space of five minutes, as Jim said afterwards, in +telling about it, "that boat was like a meeting-house." Used +as they were to death in all forms, more than one brave +fellow's eye was dim as the silent shape was carried away to +make place for the stricken living,—one of whom was +directly brought in, and the stretcher put down near Jim.</p> + +<p>"What's up?" he called, for the man's face was turned +from him, and his wounded body so covered as to give no +clew to its condition. "What's wrong?" seeing the bearers +did not offer to lift him, and that they were anxiously scanning +the long rows of berths.</p> + +<p>"Berth's wrong," one of them answered.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter with the berth?"</p> + +<p>"Matter enough! not a middle one nor a lower one +empty."</p> + +<p>"Well," called a wounded boy from the third tier, +"plenty of room up here; sky-parlor,—airy lodgings,—all +fine,—I see a lot of empty houses that'll take him in."</p> + +<p>"Like enough,—but he's about blown to pieces," said +the bearer in a low voice, "and it'll be aw—ful putting him +up there; however,"—commencing to take off the light +cover.</p> + +<p>"Helloa!" cried Jim, "that's a dilapidated-looking +leg,"—his head out, looking at it. "Stop a bit!"—body half +after the head,—"you just stop that, and come here and +catch hold of a fellow; now put me up there. I reckon I'll +bear hoisting better'n he will, anyway. Ugh! ah! um! owh! +here we are! bully!"</p> + +<p>If Jim had been of the fainting or praying order he +would certainly have fainted or prayed; as it was, he said +"Bully!" but lay for a while thereafter still as a mouse.</p> + +<p>"Given, you're a brick!" one of the boys was apostrophizing +him. Jim took no notice. "And your man's in, safe +and sound"; he turned at that, and leaned forward, as well +as he could, to look at the occupant of his late bed.</p> + +<p>"Jemime!" he cried, when he saw the face. "I say, boys! +it's Ercildoune—Robert—flag—Wagner—hurray—let's +give three cheers for the color-sergeant,—long may he +wave!"</p> + +<p>The men, propped up or lying down, gave the three +cheers with a will, and then three more; and then, +delighted with their performance, three more after that, +Jim winding up the whole with an "a-a-ah,—Tiger!" that +made them all laugh; then relapsing into silence and a hard +battle with pain.</p> + +<p>A weary voyage,—a weary journey thereafter to the +Northern hospitals,—some dying by the way, and lowered +through the shifting, restless waves, or buried with hasty +yet kindly hands in alien soil,—accounted strangers and +foemen in the land of their birth. God grant that no tread +of rebellion in the years to come, nor thunder of contending +armies, may disturb their peace!</p> + +<p>Some stopped in the heat and dust of Washington to +be nursed and tended in the great barracks of +hospitals,—uncomfortable-looking +without, clean and spacious and +admirable within; some to their homes, on long-desired +and eagerly welcomed furloughs, there to be cured +speedily, the body swayed by the mind; some to suffer and +die; some to struggle against winds and tides of mortality +and conquer,—yet scarred and maimed; some to go out, as +giants refreshed with new wine, to take their places once +more in the great conflict, and fight there faithfully to the +end.</p> + +<p>Among these last was Jim; but not till after many a hard +battle, and buffet, and back-set did life triumph and +strength prevail. One thing which sadly retarded his +recovery was his incessant anxiety about Sallie, and his +longing to see her once more. He had himself, after his +first hurt, written her that he was slightly wounded; but +when he reached Washington, and the surgeon, looking at +his shattered leg, talked about amputation and death, Jim +decided that Sallie should not know a word of all this till +something definite was pronounced.</p> + +<p>"She oughtn't to have an ugly, one-legged fellow," he +said, "to drag round with her; and, if she knows how bad +it is, she'll post straight down here, to nurse and look after +me,—I know her! and she'll have me in the end, out of +sheer pity; and I ain't going to take any such mean advantage +of her: no, sir-ee, not if I know myself. If I get well, +safe and sound, I'll go to her; and, if I'm going to die, I'll +send for her; so I'll wait,"—which he did.</p> + +<p>He found, however, that it was a great deal easier +making the decision, than keeping it when made. Sallie, +hearing nothing from him,—supposing him still in the +South,—fearful as she had all along been that she stood on +uncertain ground,—Mrs. Surrey away in New York,—and +Robert Ercildoune, as the papers asserted in their published +lists, mortally wounded,—having no indirect means +of communication with him, and fearing to write again +without some sign from him,—was sorrowing in silence at +home.</p> + +<p>The silence reacted on him; not realizing its cause he +grew fretful and impatient, and the fretfulness and impatience +told on his leg, intensified his fever, and put the day +of recovery—if recovery it was to be—farther into the +future.</p> + +<p>"See here, my man,"—said the quick little surgeon one +day, "you're worrying about something. This'll never do; if +you don't stop it, you'll die, as sure as fate; and you might +as well make up your mind to it at once,—so, now!"</p> + +<p>"Well, sir," answered Jim, "it's as good a time to die +now, I reckon, as often happens; but I ain't dead yet, not +by a long shot; and I ain't going to die neither; so, now, +yourself!"</p> + +<p>The doctor laughed. "All right; if you'll get up that +spirit, and keep it, I'll bet my pile on your recovery,—but +you'll have to stop fretting. You've got something on your +mind that's troubling you; and the sooner you get rid of it, +if you can, the better. That's all I've got to say." And he +marched off.</p> + +<p>"Get rid of it," mused Jim, "how in thunder'll I get rid +of it if I don't hear from Sallie? Let me see—ah! I have it!" +and looking more cheerful on the instant he lay still, +watching for the doctor to come down the ward once +more. "Helloa!" he called, then. "Helloa!" responded the +doctor, coming over to him, "what's the go now? you're +improved already."</p> + +<p>"Got any objection to telling a lie?"—this might be +called coming to the point.</p> + +<p>"That depends—" said the doctor.</p> + +<p>"Well, all's fair in love and war, they say. This is for +love. Help a fellow?"</p> + +<p>"Of course,—if I can,—and the fellow's a good one, +like Jim Given. What is it you want?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I want a letter written, and I can't do it myself, +you know,"—looking down at his still bandaged arm,—"likewise +I want a lie told in it, and these ladies here are all +angels, and of course you can't ask an angel to tell a lie,—no +offence to you; so if you can take the time, and'll do it, +I'll stand your everlasting debtor, and shoulder the responsibility +if you're afraid of the weight."</p> + +<p>"What sort of a lie?"</p> + +<p>"A capital one; listen. I want a young lady to know that +I'm wounded in the arm,—you see? not bad; nor nothing +over which she need worry, and nothing that hurts me +much; and I ain't damaged in any other way; legs not mentioned +in this concern,—you understand?" The doctor +nodded. "But it's tied up my hand, so that I have to get you +to say all this for me. I'll be well pretty soon; and, if I can +get a furlough, I'll be up in Philadelphia in a jiffy,—so she +can just prepare for the infliction, &c. Comprendy? And'll +you do it?"</p> + +<p>"Of course I will, if you don't want the truth told, and +the fib'll do you any good; and, upon my word, the way +you're looking I really think it will. So now for it."</p> + +<p>Thus the letter was written, and read, and re-read, to +make sure that there was nothing in it to alarm Sallie; and, +being satisfactory on that head, was finally sent away, to +rejoice the poor girl who had waited, and watched, and +hoped for it through such a weary time. When she +answered it, her letter was so full of happiness and solicitude, +and a love that, in spite of herself, spoke out in every +line, that Jim furtively kissed it, and read it into tatters in +the first few hours of its possession; then tucking it away in +his hospital shirt, over his heart, proceeded to get well as +fast as fast could be.</p> + +<p>"Well," said the doctor, a few weeks afterwards, as Jim +was going home on his coveted sick-leave, "Mr. Thomas +Carlyle calls fibs wind-bags. If that singular remedy would +work to such a charm with all my men, I'd tell lies with +impunity. Good by, Jim, and the best of good luck to you."</p> + +<p>"The same to you, Doctor, and I hope you may always +find a friend in need, to lie for you. Good by, and God +bless you!" wringing his hand hard,—"and now, hurrah for +home!"</p> + +<p>"Hurrah it is!" cried the little surgeon after him, as, +happy and proud, he limped down the ward, and turned +his face towards home.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI</h2> + +<p> +"<i>Youth on the prow, and Pleasure at the helm.</i>"<br /> +<br /> +GRAY<br /><br /><br /> +</p> + + +<p>Jim scarcely felt the jolting of the ambulance over the +city stones, and his impatience and eagerness to get +across the intervening space made dust, and heat, and +weariness of travel seem but as feather weights, not to be +cared for, nor indeed considered at all; though, in fact, his +arm complained, and his leg ached distressingly, and he was +faint and weak without confessing it long before the tiresome +journey reached its end.</p> + +<p>"No matter," he said to himself; "it'll be all well, or forgotten, +at least, when I see Sallie once more; and so, what +odds?"</p> + +<p>The end was gained at last, and he would have gone to +her fast as certain Rosinantes, yclept hackhorses, could +carry him, but, stopping for a moment to consider, he +thought, "No, that will never do! Go to her looking like +such a guy? Nary time. I'll get scrubbed, and put on a +clean shirt, and make myself decent, before she sees me. +She always used to look nice as a new pin, and she liked +me to look so too; so I'd better put my best foot foremost +when she hasn't laid eyes on me for such an age. I'm fright +enough, anyway, goodness knows, with my thinness, and +my old lame leg; so—" sticking his head out of the +window, and using his lungs with astonishing vigor—"Driver! +streak like lightning, will you, to the 'Merchants'? +and you shall have extra fare."</p> + +<p>"Hold your blab there," growled the driver; "I ain't +such a pig yet as to take double fare from a wounded soldier. +You'll pay me well at half-price,—when we get +where you want to go,"—which they did soon.</p> + +<p>"No!" said Jehu, thrusting back part of the money, "I +ain't agoin' to take it, so you needn't poke it out at me. I'm +all right; or, if I ain't, I'll make it up on the next broadcloth +or officer I carry; never you fear! us fellows knows +how to take care of ourselves, you'd better believe!" which +statement Jim would have known to be truth, without the +necessity of repetition, had he been one of the aforesaid +"broadcloths," or "officers," and thus better acquainted +with the genus hack-driver in the ordinary exercise of its +profession.</p> + +<p>As it was; he shook hands with the fellow, pocketed the +surplus change, made his way into the hotel, was in his +room, in his bath, under the barber's hands, cleaned, +shaved, brushed, polished, shining,—as he himself would +have declared, "in a jiffy" Then, deciding himself to be +presentable to the lady of his heart, took his crutch and +sallied forth, as good-looking a young fellow, spite of the +wooden appendage, as any the sun shone upon in all the +big city, and as happy, as it was bright.</p> + +<p>He knew where to go, and, by help of street-cars and +other legs than his own, he was there speedily. He knew +the very room towards which to turn; and, reaching it, +paused to look in through the half-open door,—delighted +thus to watch and listen for a little space unseen.</p> + +<p>Sallie was sitting, her handsome head bent over her +sewing,—Frankie gambolling about the floor.</p> + +<p>"O sis, <i>don't</i> you wish Jim would come home?" +queried the youngster. "I do,—I wish he'd come right +straight away."</p> + +<p>"Right straight away? What do <i>you</i> want to see Jim +for?"</p> + +<p>"O, 'cause he's nice; and 'cause he'll take me to the +Theayter; and 'cause he'll treat,—apples, and peanuts, and +candy, you know, and—and—ice-cream," wiping the +beads from his little red face,—the last desideratum evidently +suggested by the fiery summer heat. "I say, +Sallie!"—a pause—"won't you get me some ice-cream this +evening?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Bobbity, if you'll be a good boy."</p> + +<p>Frankie looked dubious over that proposition. Jim +never made any such stipulations: so, after another pause, +in which he was probably considering the whole subject +with due and becoming gravity,—evidently desiring to +hear his own wish propped up by somebody else's +seconding,—he broke out again, "Now, Sallie, don't you just +wish Jim would come home?"</p> + +<p>"O Frankie, don't I?" cried the girl, dropping her +work, and stretching out her empty arms as though she +would clasp some shape in the air.</p> + +<p>Frankie, poor child! innocently imagining the +proffered embrace was for him, ran forward, for he was an +affectionate little soul, to give Sallie a good hug, but found +himself literally left out in the cold; no arms to meet, and +no Sallie, indeed, to touch him. Something big, burly, and +blue loomed up on his sight,—something that was doing +its best to crush Sallie bodily, and to devour what was not +crushed; something that could say nothing by reason of its +lips being so much more pleasantly engaged, and whose +face was invisible through its extraordinary proximity to +somebody else's face and hair.</p> + +<p>Frankie, finding he could gain neither sight nor sound +of notice, began to howl. But as neither of the hard-hearted +creatures seemed to care for the poor little chap's +howling, he fell upon the coat-tails of the big blue +obstruction, and pulled at them lustily,—not to say +viciously,—till their owner turned, and beheld him +panting and fiery.</p> + +<p>"Helloa, youngster! what's to pay now?"</p> + +<p>"Wow! if 'tain't Jim. Hooray!" screeched the youngster, +first embracing the blue legs, and then proceeding to +execute a dance upon his head. "Te, te, di di, idde i-dum," +he sang, coming feet down, finally.</p> + +<p>Evidently the bad boy's language had been corrupted +by his street <i>confrères</i>; it was a missionary ground upon +which Sallie entered, more or less faithfully, every day to +hoe and weed; but of this last specimen-plant she took no +notice, save to laugh as Jim, catching him up, first kissed +him, then gave him a shake and a small spank, and, +thrusting a piece of currency into his hand, whisked him +outside the door with a "Come, shaver, decamp, and treat +yourself to-day," and had it shut and fastened in a twinkling.</p> + +<p>"O Jim!" she cried then, her soul in her handsome +eyes.</p> + +<p>"O Sallie!"—and he had her fast and tight once more.</p> + +<p>An ineffable blank, punctuated liberally with sounding +exclamation points, and strongly marked periods,—though +how or why a blank should be punctuated at all, +only blissful lovers could possibly define.</p> + +<p>"Jim, dear Jim!" whispering it, and snuggling her +blushing face closer to the faded blue, "can you love me +after all that has happened?"</p> + +<p>"Come now! <i>can</i> I love you, my beauty? Slightly, I +should think. O, te, te, di di, idde i-dum,"—singing +Frank's little song with his big, gay voice,—"I'm happy as +a king."</p> + +<p>Happy as a king, that was plain enough. And what shall +be said of her, as he sat down, and, resting the wounded +leg—stiff and sore yet,—held Sallie on his other knee,—then +fell to admiring her while she stroked his mustache and +his crisp, curling hair, looking at both and at him altogether +with an expression of contented adoration in her eyes.</p> + +<p>Frank, tired of prowling round the door, candy in +hand, here thrust his head in at the window, and, +unfortunately for his plans, sneezed. "Mutual-admiration society!" +he cried at that, seeing that he was detected in any case, +and running away,—his run spoiled as soon as it began.</p> + +<p>"We are a handsome couple," laughed Jim, holding +back her face between both hands,—"ain't we, now?"</p> + +<p>Yes, they were,—no mistake about that, handsome as +pictures.</p> + +<p>And merry as birds, through all of his short stay. They +would see no danger in the future: Jim had been scathed in +time past so often, yet come out safe and sound, that they +would have no fear for what was to befall him in time to +come. If they had, neither showed it to the other. Jim +thought, "Sallie would break her heart, if she knew just +what is down there,—so it would be a pity to talk about +it"; and Sallie thought, "It's right for Jim to go, and I won't +say a word to keep him back, no matter how I feel."</p> + +<p>The furlough was soon—ah! how soon—out, the days +of happiness over; and Jim, holding her in a last close +embrace, said his farewell: "Come, Sallie, you're not to cry +now, and make me a coward. It'll only be for a little while; +the Rebs <i>can't</i> stand it much longer, and then—"</p> + +<p>"Ah, Jim! but if you should—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, but I sha'n't, you see; not a bit of it; don't you go +to think it. 'I bear'—what is it? O—'a charmed life,' as Mr. +Macbeth says, and you'll see me back right and tight, and +up to time. One kiss more, dear. God bless you! good by!" +and he was gone.</p> + +<p>She leaned out of the window,—she smiled after him, +kissed her hand, waved her handkerchief, so long as he +could see them,—till he had turned a corner way down +the street,—and smile, and hand, and handkerchief were +lost to his sight; then flung herself on the floor, and cried +as though her very heart would break. "God send him +home,—send him safe and soon home!" she implored; +entreaty made for how many loved ones, by how many +aching hearts, that speedily lost the need of saying amen to +any such petition,—the prayer for the living lost in +mourning for the dead. Heaven grant that no soul that +reads this ever may have the like cause to offer such prayer +again!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII</h2> + +<p> +"<i>When we see the dishonor of a thing, then it is time to<br /> +renounce it.</i>"<br /> +<br /> +PLUTARCH<br /><br /><br /> +</p> + + +<p>A letter which Sallie wrote to Jim a few weeks +after his departure tells its own story, and hence +shall be repeated here.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Philadelphia, October 29, 1863.</p> + +<p>Dear Jim:—</p> + +<p>I take my pen in hand this morning to write you a +letter, and to tell you the news, though I don't know much +of the last except about Frankie and myself. However, I +suppose you will care more to hear that than any other, so +I will begin.</p> + +<p>Maybe you will be surprised to hear that Frankie and +I are at Mr. Ercildoune's. Well, we are,—and I will tell you +how it came about. Not long after you went away, Frank +began to pine, and look droopy. There wasn't any use in +giving him medicine, for it didn't do him a bit of good. +He couldn't eat, and he didn't sleep, and I was at my wits' +ends to know what to do for him.</p> + +<p>One day Mrs. Lee,—that Mr. Ercildoune's +housekeeper,—an old English lady she is, and she's lived with +him ever since he was married, and before he came +here,—a real lady, too,—came in with some sewing, some +fine shirts for Mr. Robert Ercildoune. I asked after him, +and you'll be glad to know that he's recovering. He didn't +have to lose his leg, as they feared; and his arm is healing; +and the wound in his breast getting well. Mrs. Lee says +she's very sorry the stump isn't longer, so that he could +wear a Palmer arm,—but she's got no complaints to make; +they're only too glad and thankful to have him living at all, +after such a dreadful time.</p> + +<p>While I was talking with her, Frankie called me from +the next room, and began to cry. You wouldn't have +known him,—he cried at everything, and was so fretful +and cross I could scarcely get along at all. When I got him +quiet, and came back, Mrs. Lee says, "What's the matter +with Frank?" so I told her I didn't know,—but would she +see him? Well, she saw him, and shook her head in a bad +sort of way that scared me awfully, and I suppose she saw +I was frightened, for she said, "All he wants is plenty of +fresh air, and good, wholesome country food and exercise." +I can tell you, spite of that, she went away, leaving +me with heavy enough a heart.</p> + +<p>The next day Mr. Ercildoune came in. How he is +changed! I haven't seen him before since Mrs. Surrey died, +and that of itself was enough to kill him, without this +dreadful time about Mr. Robert.</p> + +<p>"Good morning, Miss Sallie," says he, "how are you? +and I'm glad to see you looking so well." So I told him I +was well, and then he asked for Frankie. "Mrs. Lee tells +me," he said, "that your little brother is quite ill, and that +he needs country air and exercise. He can have them both +at The Oaks; so if you'll get him ready, the carriage will +come for you at whatever time you appoint. Mrs. Lee can +find you plenty of work as long as you care to stay." He +looked as if he wanted to say something more, but didn't; +and I was just as sure as sure could be that it was something +about Miss Francesca, probably about her having me out +there so much; for his face looked so sad, and his lips trembled +so, I knew that must be in his mind. And when I +thought of it, and of such an awful fate as it was for her, +so young, and handsome, and happy, like the great baby I +am, I just threw my apron over my head, and burst out +crying.</p> + +<p>"Don't!" he said,—"don't!" in O, such a voice! It was +like a knife going through me; and he went quick out of +the room, and downstairs, without even saying good by.</p> + +<p>Well, we came out the next day,—and I have plenty to +do, and Frankie is getting real bright and strong. I can see +Mr. Ercildoune likes to have us here, because of the connection +with Miss Francesca. She was so interested in us, +and so kind to us, and he knows I loved her so very +dearly,—and if it's any comfort to him I'm sure I'm glad to +be here, without taking Frankie into the account,—for the +poor gentleman looks so bowed and heart-broken that it +makes one's heart ache just to see him. Mr. Robert isn't +well enough to be about yet, but he sits up for a while +every day, and is getting on—the doctor says—nicely. +They both talk about you often; and Mr. Ercildoune, I can +see, thinks everything of you for that good, kind deed of +yours, when you and Mr. Robert were on the transport +together. Dear Jim, he don't know you as well as I do, or +he'd know that you couldn't help doing such things,—not +if you tried.</p> + +<p>I hope you'll like the box that comes with this. Mr. +Robert had it packed for you in his own room, to see that +everything went in that you'd like. Of course, as he's been +a soldier himself, he knows better what they want than +anybody else can.</p> + +<p>Dear Jim, do take care of yourself; don't go and get +wounded; and don't get sick; and, whatever you do, don't +let the rebels take you prisoner, unless you want to drive +me frantic. I think about you pretty much all the time, and +pray for you, as well as I know how, every night when I go +to bed, and am always</p> + +<p>Your own loving</p> + +<p>Sallie.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"Wow!" said Jim, as he read, "she's in a good berth +there." So she was,—and so she stayed. Frankie got quite +well once more, and Sallie began to think of going, but +Mr. Ercildoune evidently clung to her and to the sunshine +which the bright little fellow cast through the house. Sallie +was quite right in her supposition. Francesca had cared for +this girl, had been kind to her and helped her,—and his +heart went out to everything that reminded him of his +dear, dead child. So it happened that autumn passed, and +winter, and spring,—and still they stayed. In fact, she was +domesticated in the house, and, for the first time in years, +enjoyed the delightful sense of a home. Here, then, she set +up her rest, and remained; here, when the "cruel war was +over," the armies disbanded, the last regiments discharged, +and Jimmy "came marching home," brown, handsome, and +a captain, here he found her,—and from here he married +and carried her away.</p> + +<p>It was a happy little wedding, though nobody was +there beside the essentials, save the family and a dear friend +of Robert's, who was with him at the time, as he had been +before and would be often again,—none other than +William Surrey's favorite cousin and friend, Tom Russell.</p> + +<p>The letter which Surrey had written never reached his +hand till he lay almost dying from the effects of wounds +and exposure, after he had been brought in safety to our +lines by his faithful black friends, at Morris Island. Surrey +had not mistaken his temper; gay, reckless fellow, as he was, +he was a thorough gentleman, in whom could harbor no +small spite, nor petty prejudice,—and without a mean fibre +in his being. At a glance he took in the whole situation, +and insisting upon being propped up in bed, with his own +hand—though slowly, and as a work of magnitude—succeeded +in writing a cordial letter of congratulation and +affection, that would have been to Surrey like the grasp of +a brother's hand in a strange and foreign country, had it +ever reached his touch and eyes.</p> + +<p>But even while Tom lay writing his letter, occasionally +muttering, "They'll have a devilish hard time of it!" or +"Poor young un!" or "She's one in a million!" or some such +sentence which marked his feeling and care,—these two of +whom he thought, to whose future he looked with such +loving anxiety, were beyond the reach of human help or +hindrance,—done alike with the sorrows and joys of time.</p> + +<p>From a distance, with the help of a glass, and absorbing +interest, he had followed the movements of the flag and its +bearer, and had cheered, till he fainted from weakness and +exhaustion, as he saw them safe at last. It was with delight +that he found himself on the same transport with Ercildoune, +and discovered in him the brother of the young girl +for whom, in the past, he had had so pleasing and deep a +regard, and whose present and future were so full of +interest for him, in their new and nearer relations.</p> + +<p>These two young men, unlike as they were in most +particulars, were drawn together by an irresistible attraction. +They had that common bond, always felt and recognized +by those who possess it, of the gentle blood,—tastes +and instincts in common, and a fine, chivalrous sentiment +which each felt and thoroughly appreciated in the other. +The friendship thus begun grew with the passing years, +and was intensified a hundred fold by a portion of the past +to which they rarely referred, but which lay always at the +bottom of their hearts. They had each for those two who +had lain dead together in the streets of New York the +strongest and tenderest love,—and though it was not a tie +about which they could talk, it bound them together as +with chains of steel.</p> + +<p>Russell was with Ercildoune at the time of the wedding, +and entered into it heartily, as they all did. The result +was, as has been written, the gayest and merriest of times. +Sallies dress, which Robert had given her, was a sight to +behold; and the pretty jewels, which were a part of his gift, +and the long veil, made her look, as Jim declared, "so +handsome he didn't know her,"—though that must have +been one of Jim's stories, or else he was in the habit of +making love to strange ladies with extraordinary ease and +effrontery.</p> + +<p>The breakfast was another sight to behold. As Mary +the cook said to Jane the housemaid, "If they'd been born +kings and queens, Mrs. Lee couldn't have laid herself out +more; it's grand, so it is,—just you go and see;" which Jane +proceeded to do, and forthwith thereafter corroborated +Mary's enthusiastic statement.</p> + +<p>There were plenty of presents, too: and when it was all +over, and they were in the carriage, to be sent to the station, +Mr. Ercildoune, holding Sallie's hand in farewell, left +there a bit of paper, "which is for you," he said. "God protect, +and keep you happy, my child!" Then they were +gone, with many kind adieus and good wishes called and +sent after them. When they were seated in the cars, Sallie +looked at her bit of paper, and read on its outer covering, +"A wedding-gift to Sallie Howard from my dear daughter +Francesca," and found within the deed of a beautiful little +home. God bless her! say we, with Mr. Ercildoune. God +bless them both, and may they live long to enjoy it!</p> + +<p>That afternoon, as Tom and Robert were driving, +Russell, noting the unwonted look of life and activity, and +the gay flags flung to the breeze, demanded what it all +meant. "Why," said he, "it is like a field day."</p> + +<p>"It is so," answered Robert, "or what is the same; it is +election day."</p> + +<p>"Bless my soul! so it is; and a soldier to be elected. +Have you voted?"</p> + +<p>"No!"</p> + +<p>"No? Here's a nice state of affairs! a fellow that'll get +his arm blown off for a flag, but won't take the trouble to +drop a scrap of paper for it. Come, I'll drive you over."</p> + +<p>"You forget, Russell!"</p> + +<p>"Forget? Nonsense! This isn't 1860, but 1865. I don't +forget; I remember. It is after the war now,—come."</p> + +<p>"As you please," said Robert. He knew the disappointment +that awaited his friend, but he would not thwart him +now.</p> + +<p>There was a great crowd about the polling-office, and +they all looked on with curious interest as the two young +men came up. No demonstration was made, though a half-dozen +brutal fellows uttered some coarse remarks.</p> + +<p>"Hear the damned Rebs talk!" said a man in the army +blue, who, with keen eyes, was observing the scene. +"They're the same sort of stuff we licked in Carolina."</p> + +<p>"Ay," said another, "but with a difference; blue led +there; but gray'll come off winner here, or I'm mistaken."</p> + +<p>Robert stood leaning upon his cane; a support which +he would need for life, one empty sleeve pinned across his +breast, over the scar from a deep and yet unhealed wound. +The clear October sun shone down upon his form and +face, upon the broad folds of the flag that waved in triumph +above him, upon a country where wars and rumors +of wars had ceased.</p> + +<p>"Courage, man! what ails you?" whispered Russell, as +he felt his comrade tremble; "it's a ballot in place of a bayonet, +and all for the same cause; lay it down."</p> + +<p>Robert put out his hand.</p> + +<p>"Challenge the vote!" "Challenge the vote!" "No niggers +here!" sounded from all sides.</p> + +<p>The bit of paper which Ercildoune had placed on the +window-ledge fluttered to the ground on the outer side, +and, looking at Tom, Robert said quietly, "1860 or +1865?—is the war ended?"</p> + +<p>"No!" answered Tom, taking his arm, and walking away. +"No, my friend! so you and I will continue in the service."</p> + +<p>"Not ended;—it is true! how and when will it be +closed?"</p> + +<p>"That is for the loyal people of America to decide," +said Russell, as they turned their faces towards home.</p> + +<p>How and when will it be closed? a question asked by +the living and the dead,—to which America must respond.</p> + +<p>Among the living is a vast army: black and white,—shattered +and maimed, and blind: and these say, "Here we +stand, shattered and maimed, that the body politic might +be perfect! blind forever, that the glorious sun of liberty +might shine abroad throughout the land, for all people, +through all coming time."</p> + +<p>And the dead speak too. From their crowded graves +come voices of thrilling and persistent pathos, whispering, +"Finish the work that has fallen from our nerveless hands. +Let no weight of tyranny, nor taint of oppression, nor stain +of wrong, cumber the soil nor darken the land we died to +save."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="NOTE" id="NOTE"></a>NOTE</h2> + + +<p>Since it is impossible for any one memory to carry +the entire record of the war, it is well to state, that +almost every scene in this book is copied from life, and that +the incidents of battle and camp are part of the history of +the great contest.</p> + +<p>The story of Fort Wagner is one that needs no such +emphasis, it is too thoroughly known; that of the Color-Sergeant, +whose proper name is W.H. Carney, is taken +from a letter written by General M.S. Littlefield to +Colonel A.G. Browne, Secretary to Governor Andrew.</p> + +<p>From the <i>New York Tribune</i> and the <i>Providence Journal</i> +were taken the accounts of the finding of Hunt, the +coming of the slaves into a South Carolina camp, and the +voluntary carrying, by black men, ere they were enlisted, +of a schooner into the fight at Newbern. Than these two +papers, none were considered more reliable and trustworthy +in their war record.</p> + +<p>Almost every paper in the North published the narrative +of the black man pushing off the boat, for which an +official report is responsible. The boat was a flat-boat, with +a company of soldiers on board; and the battery under the +fire of which it fell was at Rodman's Point, North Carolina. +In drawing the outlines of this, as of the others, I +have necessarily used a somewhat free pencil, but the main +incident of each has been faithfully preserved.</p> + +<p>The disabled black soldier my own eyes saw thrust +from a car in Philadelphia.</p> + +<p>The portraits of Ercildoune and his children may seem +to some exaggerated; those who have, as I, the rare pleasure +of knowing the originals, will say, "the half has not +been told."</p> + +<p>Every leading New York paper, Democratic and +Republican, was gone over, ere the summary of the Riots +was made; and I think the record will be found historically +accurate. The <i>Anglo-African</i> gives the story of poor Abram +Franklin; and the assault on Surrey has its likeness in the +death of Colonel O'Brien.</p> + +<p>In a conversation between Surrey and Francesca, allusion +is made to an act the existence of which I have frequently +heard doubted. I therefore copy here a part of the +"Retaliatory Act," passed by the Rebel Government at +Richmond, and approved by its head, May 1, 1863:—</p> + +<p>"Sec. 4. Every white person, being a commissioned +officer, or acting as such, who, during the present war, +shall command negroes or mulattoes in arms against the +Confederate States, or who shall arm, train, organize, or +prepare negroes or mulattoes for military service against +the Confederate States, or who shall voluntarily aid +negroes or mulattoes in any military enterprise, attack, or +conflict in such service, shall be deemed as inciting servile +insurrection; and shall, if captured, be put to death."</p> + +<p>I have written this book, and send it to the consciences +and the hearts of the American people. May God, for +whose "little ones" I have here spoken, vivify its words.</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of What Answer?, by Anna E. 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