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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9801f41 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #69435 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/69435) diff --git a/old/69435-0.txt b/old/69435-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index a7b48a0..0000000 --- a/old/69435-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,9750 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Rhoda of the Underground, by Florence -Finch Kelly - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Rhoda of the Underground - -Author: Florence Finch Kelly - -Illustrator: The Kinneys - -Release Date: January 10, 2023 [eBook #69435] - -Language: English - -Produced by: D A Alexander, David E. Brown, and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (The New York - Public Library's Digital Collections) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RHODA OF THE -UNDERGROUND *** - - - - - -RHODA OF THE UNDERGROUND - - -[Illustration: “He listened with her hand clasped in his.”] - - - - - RHODA OF THE - UNDERGROUND - - By - FLORENCE FINCH KELLY - - Author of “With Hoops of Steel,” “The Delafield - Affair,” etc., etc. - - WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY - THE KINNEYS - - New York - STURGIS & WALTON - COMPANY - 1909 - - - - - Copyright 1909 - By STURGIS & WALTON COMPANY - - Set up and electrotyped. Published November, 1909 - - THE MASON-HENRY PRESS - SYRACUSE AND NEW YORK - - - - -ILLUSTRATIONS - - - “He listened, with her hand clasped in his.” Frontispiece - - FACING PAGE - - “‘You won’t shoot him?’ she demanded, turning sharply around” 68 - - “Inside were a withered rose and a letter” 100 - - “‘Don’t Jeff, please don’t!’ she pleaded” 250 - - - - -RHODA OF THE UNDERGROUND - - - - -CHAPTER I - - -The benediction of God was in the sunshine that lay still and bright -upon green fields and blooming gardens. The town, marshaled along the -river side, nestled quietly under the caressing warmth. Down by the -steamboat landing it stirred into sudden noisy activity as the up-river -boat drew in and made ready to discharge cargo and passengers. But -farther back, where the streets, lined with maple and butternut trees -and white-blossomed locusts, climbed the long sloping hill, the May -sunshine seemed to have kissed the earth into radiant peace. Here and -there, from some white-painted cottage set in a grassy, tree-shaded -yard, came the sound of a woman’s voice in speech or song, or the -shrilly sweet accents of children at play floated out from porch or -shady nook. - -The lilac bushes in a yard at the top of the hill, hedging the walk -from front door to gate, lazily stirred their lavender foam and sent -forth waves of fragrance. The house, uncompromisingly white and square -and solid-looking, with green shutters at the windows, had a wide, -columned veranda across the southward front and down the eastern side. -Upon the balmy stillness in which it too was enveloped there came a -sound of dancing steps and girlish laughter, and a young woman ran -out of the front door, teasing with a leafy switch a gray kitten that -scampered at her side. Her spreading skirts, crinolined and beruffled, -tilted back and forth, and with a sudden twist she caught the kitten -within their cage. As it peeked out, with a half-frightened face, ready -to spring away, she caught it by the back of the neck and lifted it to -the bend of her arm. - -“No, you didn’t, Prince of Walesy!” she laughed. “You’re not smart -enough yet to get away from me like that!” Leaning against the -veranda rail she gazed watchfully down the street while she pinched -the kitten’s ears until it squeaked and then stroked it into purring -content. The sunlight brought out reddish and golden gleams in her dark -brown hair. - -“Walesy, why don’t they come!” she exclaimed with an impatient frown, -pulling the cat’s tail while it protested with growl and claw. “I -heard the steamboat a long time ago.” Her eyes sought the glimpses of -sparkling river between the trees and she descried a thin banner of -smoke moving up-stream. “Yes, there it goes! They’ll surely be here -soon! Now don’t make such a fuss about having your tail pulled. You’ll -just have to get used to it!” - -She began to whistle softly, stopped, cast a backward glance at the -open door, made a little grimace and struck again into her tune, -louder than before. Up the street, under the drooping white masses of -locust bloom, came a two-seated carriage. “Mother! They’re coming! -They’re right here!” she called. Then with the kitten still in her arm -she scurried down the path between the walls of fragrant lilac, her -crinolined skirt giving glimpses of trimly slippered feet as it tilted -from side to side. Unlatching the gate she stepped upon its lower -cross-piece and swung back upon it as far as it would go. “Father! -Rhoda!” she called out joyously, and was herself welcomed with “Well, -Charlotte!” and a kiss by her father and a laughing embrace by her -sister. One of the tall, square gate-posts bore the sign, “Dr. Amos M. -Ware.” - -“Now let’s take in the things!” cried Charlotte. “I’m just dying to -see what you’ve brought! Here, Jim,” to the negro who was holding the -horses, “come and carry in these bundles.” - -Within the house there was eager cross-fire of question and answer, -punctuated by frequent exclamations of delight, as the two sisters and -their mother unwrapped the parcels and examined their contents. - -“This is for mother,” said Rhoda, shaking out a light wool wrap. -“They’re wearing these little shawls so much this spring. Charlotte, -doesn’t she look nice in it!” Throwing her arms around her mother’s -shoulders Rhoda kissed her twice and then rushed back to the table -piled with packages. “And I’ve got the sweetest bonnet for you, -Charlotte!” she went on, opening a bandbox. “There! isn’t that lovely, -mother?” She tied the strings under Charlotte’s chin and all three -clustered about the mirror as the girl critically surveyed herself -therein. - -The bonnet covered her head, in the fashion of the days “before the -war,” and the wreath of flowers inside its front made a dainty frame -that seemed to be trying to compel into demureness the saucy face with -its tip-tilted nose and mischievous brown eyes. - -The two sisters, reflected side by side in the mirror, looked oddly -unlike. Charlotte’s deep tones of hair and eyes and rich coloring paled -in her elder sister into light brown and gray, and faint rose-bloom -upon her cheek. But Rhoda’s straight, thin-nostriled nose gave to her -countenance a certain dignity which the other’s lacked, while her -mouth, with its curved upper lip, just short enough to part easily -from its full red fellow, had a piquant sweetness more attractive than -her sister’s more regular features. Her eyes, large and gray, and -indeed all the upper part of her face, had a serious expression. At -the corners of her mouth there was just the suggestion of an upward -turn, like that in the Mona Lisa. It gave to the lower part of her face -an expression curiously contradictory of the grave upper part, as if -sense of the joyousness of life were always hovering there and ready at -any moment to break forth in laughter. When she did smile there was a -sudden irradiation of her whole countenance. The short upper lip lifted -above white teeth, the faint upward curve at the corners of her mouth -deepened and her eyes twinkled gaily. But no one ever accounted Rhoda -so handsome as her younger sister. Even those who admired her most -thought her forehead too high and her cheek bones too prominent for -beauty. - -“And this muslin is for a dress for you, Charlotte,” Rhoda went on, -holding it up for their inspection. “Isn’t this vine a lovely pattern, -mother? We must make it with three wide flounces, from the foot to the -waist, and the skirt even wider than these we’re wearing now. And this -white silk is to make a drawn bonnet for you, mother. I saw several of -them in Cincinnati--they’re quite the latest thing. I have the pattern -and directions and I’m sure I can do it.” - -There were only three of them, but as they moved about in their big, -balloon-like skirts, examining, comparing, discussing the purchases, -they seemed to pervade the whole large room with the essence of -femininity and to fill it with their bodily presence. - -“What’s this?” said Charlotte, taking up a small package. “It feels -like a book.” And she began to undo its wrappings. - -Rhoda looked, then half turned away. “It is a book--one father bought -for me. You won’t care about it.” - -Charlotte glanced at her curiously and with increased interest went -on with the unwrapping. “Oh! ‘Uncle Tom’s Cabin!’” she exclaimed -disdainfully as she tossed the book away. “What do you want to read -that for? Walesy, stop it!” And with a backward jump and a downward -swoop she extricated the kitten from beneath her hoopskirt, boxed its -ears and then cuddled it in her arm, whence in a moment more issued -sounds of distress and anger. - -Her mother spoke reprovingly, in soft tones that betrayed southern -birth: “Charlotte, don’t hurt the little thing! Do try to remember that -you’re grown up!” - -The girl rubbed the kitten against her face and cooed: “Well, it was -its own Charlotte’s precious Prince of Walesy kitty-cat and if it wants -to say that ‘Uncle Tom’s Cabin’ is just a nasty old Black Republican -mess of lies it shall, so it shall! Shan’t you, Walesy?” - -The kitten’s vehement response, slyly inspired, went unheeded as she -turned again to her sister, demanding, “What do you want to read it -for, Rhoda, when you know it’s just a lot of stuff with no truth in it?” - -“I don’t know that, Charlotte. I’ve wanted to read it for a long time, -because it’s talked about so much. And while we were in Cincinnati -we went to Levi Coffin’s, and they told us so much about Mrs. Stowe, -and how she got some of the incidents for the story and talked such a -lot about--the darkies who--try to go to Canada that it made me very -anxious to read the book.” - -“Who’s Levi Coffin?” asked Charlotte, regarding her sister closely and -noting a brief hesitation as Rhoda carefully folded the white silk -before she replied: “Oh, just a friend of father’s. They’re Quakers and -they wouldn’t interest you.” - -Charlotte reached for the book and turned its leaves over carelessly. -“Humph! If they’re friends of Mrs. Stowe they’re probably just some -more nigger-stealers! You’ll soon be a black abolitionist yourself, -Rhoda, if you keep on. And then we won’t associate with her, will we, -Walesy! Didn’t you meet any nice people?” - -Rhoda paid no heed to her sister’s aggressive tone. “Oh, yes! Mrs. -Benjamin Harrison--Carrie Scott, you know--she and I were such good -friends while I was at Dr. Scott’s Institute--happened to be visiting -in Cincinnati and she and I had a long talk. And I saw several other -girls whom I knew at Dr. Scott’s. And--oh, mother! You’ll be so -pleased!” Her color warmed and her face brightened as she went on. “It -was most romantic! We met Mr. Jefferson Delavan!” - -“Oh, did you! Where? How did it happen? Tell me all about it!” Mrs. -Ware’s eager questions and delighted face showed how nearly the -information touched her heart. But Charlotte merely demanded, with -puzzled interest, “Who is he?” - -“Don’t you remember, Charlotte?” Rhoda went on. “His mother was -Adeline Fairfax, mother’s dear friend when they were girls together in -Virginia. My middle name is after her, you know, and it’s her miniature -that mother has on her dressing table.” - -“Oh, yes!” exclaimed Charlotte. “It was at her home that we visited, -wasn’t it, a long time ago, in Kentucky?” - -“Yes--Fairmount, they call it. Such a beautiful place, just beyond -Lexington. Mother and you and I visited there for a month, twelve years -ago, wasn’t it, mother, when we first came here to Hillside. You were -only six years old then, so I suppose you don’t remember much about it. -But I remember it all very well and what a good time we had.” - -“Poor, dear Adeline!” Mrs. Ware was wiping her eyes. “She and I did -enjoy that visit so much! And we never saw each other again, for she -died the next year. If she had lived you and her children would have -seen a great deal of each other. But do tell me about Jeff, Rhoda! -Where did you see him? And how did he know who you were? He was such a -fine boy--about twelve years old, wasn’t he?--when we were there. Just -two years older than you, Rhoda. Did you meet him in Cincinnati?” - -“No. He was on the steamboat when we went down and the captain--it was -Captain Laidlaw, father’s friend, you know--introduced him to us, and -then he remembered who we were and we had great fun talking over the -good times we had at Fairmount.” - -“Was his sister Emily with him? She was named for me, you know. Is -either of them married yet?” - -“No, she wasn’t with him, and neither one of them is married. He told -me his father’s sister has lived with them ever since his mother died. -His father died too last year and now he manages the plantation.” - -“Is he handsome?” queried Charlotte. - -“N--no, not exactly handsome. But very fine-looking, and so courteous!” - -“Then you saw more of him after you left the steamboat?” - -“Yes. He called on us in Cincinnati, and we went out together several -times and then it happened that he finished his business there in time -to take the same steamboat back that we did.” - -Charlotte regarded her sister with dancing eyes. “Is he coming up here -to visit--us?” she demanded. Rhoda reddened under her scrutiny. She did -not always find it easy to keep her composure under Charlotte’s habit -of making audacious deductions and voicing reckless intuitions. But she -had learned long before that to betray embarrassment was to invite more -questioning. She answered with apparent unconcern: - -“Father asked him to come and told him how pleased mother would be to -see him, and he said that he expected to be up near the river before -long and he would cross over and call on us.” - -“Dear boy! Indeed, I shall be glad to see him! Adeline’s son--how time -does fly!” - -“Does he own slaves?” said Charlotte, her eyes still on her sister’s -face. - -“Of course!” replied Mrs. Ware. “You evidently don’t remember the -place, Charlotte. It is a large tobacco plantation, and when we were -there Mr. Delavan had a great many slaves.” - -Charlotte sprang to her feet and poised the kitten on her shoulder. -“Then you won’t like him, Rhoda--and I shall!” Whistling merrily, she -took some dancing steps toward the door. - -“Charlotte!” called her mother reprovingly, “Do try to remember that -you’re not a child any more! I’ve told you so often it’s not ladylike -to whistle!” - -Rhoda smiled at her fondly. “Don’t you know, sister, what happens to -whistling women and crowing hens?” - -“Oh fudge! That’s all nonsense. I heard a better one the other day-- - - ‘Girls that whistle and hens that crow - Catch the pleasures as they go.’ - -There’s some truth in that! I’m going to show father my new bonnet, and -he doesn’t care if I do whistle!” - -Mrs. Ware gazed after her as she floated down the veranda and -disappeared around the corner of the house, tilting her skirts and -whistling. - -“I did hope Charlotte wouldn’t be so trying after she became a young -lady!” she said in soft, plaintive tones. - -“Never mind, mother. She doesn’t really mean to be trying. She does it -just the same as she pinches the kitten’s tail, to make it meaow. If -you don’t pay any attention to her she’ll quit much sooner.” - -Mrs. Ware crossed the room to her daughter, pressed an arm around her -waist and kissed her cheek. “I’m so glad you happened to meet Jeff -Delavan,” she murmured. “If he comes to see us, and I’m sure he will--” -she glanced at the warmer color that flushed Rhoda’s face, smiled, and -went on, “What did you buy for yourself, dear?” - - - - -CHAPTER II - - -“Father! Can these things be true? Oh, how terrible it is! Do such -things really happen now, in this country?” - -Rhoda Ware rushed into her father’s office, her cheeks wet with recent -tears, her voice vibrating on the verge of sobs. Dr. Ware looked up -from the medical work he was reading in some surprise. For it was -unusual for her to give way, at least in his presence, to so much -agitation. His professional eye took quick note of her excited nerves. -In the same glance he saw that she held a book tightly grasped in her -trembling hands and read its title. But he did not betray in either -words or manner the fact that he had noticed it or the satisfaction -that it gave him. - -“Sit down, Rhoda, and calm yourself,” he said quietly. “What is it you -want to know about? Something you’ve been reading?” - -“Yes. It’s ‘Uncle Tom’s Cabin.’ Father, isn’t it exaggerated? Can it be -true?” - -Appeal sounded in her tones, the longing of a sensitive nature to be -assured that what it has suffered in imagination no human being has -been called upon to suffer in the thousandfold of reality. He noted her -hurried breathing, with the catch of a half-sob in it now and then, -and as he looked into her appealing eyes the man and the father in him -drew back from saying what he wished to say lest he add to her hurt -and the physician counseled not to increase her excitement. But the -believer in a cause urged him to strike while the iron was hot. And it -was the believer that won, after a mere moment of hesitation. - -“You heard what they said at Levi Coffin’s, about many of the incidents -of the book being based on fact. But what you have read there is only a -drop in the bucket!” - -As he leaned toward her across his desk and she, seated at the other -side, bent her face toward him, even a casual observer might have seen -their relationship. For her countenance was a copy of his, a young, -soft, feminine copy, but yet formed clearly upon the same plan, even -in the details of feature and coloring. His eyes, large and gray like -hers, were calm and cool and judicial in expression, even when, as -now, they were alight with earnestness. His shaven upper lip, also, -was short, but it pressed upon the lower in a firm line, while all -his countenance expressed a sort of austerity that seemed to bespeak -a mind informed with intense moral conviction rather than hardness or -coldness of nature. But looking at the two faces thus, one could see -in hers the kindling fires of an emotionalism which would be forever -foreign to him, an incipient power of emotional exaltation which would -never be within his possibilities. But if there was less of warmth -in his eyes and of spirituality in his brow, poise and cool judgment -were written there, and far-sightedness, their inevitable offspring. -Of the intellectual, judicial type Dr. Ware’s countenance showed him -to be, and however much or little of such qualities his daughter had -inherited from him, along with her remarkable physical resemblance, -from elsewhere had come the emotional forces which now were trembling -in the sensitive curves of her mouth and glowing in her tear-wet eyes. - -“There’s nothing in that book that couldn’t be duplicated right now in -the South, every day in the week,” Dr. Ware was saying in low, even -tones that nevertheless held such intensity of conviction that she -felt her nerves thrilling with it. “And even then, Rhoda, it’s only a -beginning! There are such horrors perpetrated under slavery as a young -girl like you can’t begin to realize!” - -She shuddered, and he watched her silently as she pressed her lips -together and deliberately held her breath for a moment in the effort to -master her emotion. - -“I don’t think I’ve ever quite realized anything about it before,” she -said in calmer voice, “although I’ve always believed, ever since I’ve -known anything about it, that it is wrong. But I’ve never felt, all -through me”--and she shivered again--“just how wrong it is, until this -book has made it seem all real and alive.” - -She hesitated, leaning her arms upon the desk, and a puzzled expression -crossed her face. “But, father,” she presently went on, “why doesn’t -mother feel as you do about it? Her father owned slaves, and until she -married you she had always lived on the plantation with slaves all -around her. And she still thinks that slavery is right and that the -negroes are happier and better off in it than they would be if they -were free. She’s so kind and gentle, how can she feel as she does if -this book is true?” - -“Your mother and I, Rhoda, have never discussed the question. Her -father was a kindly man and treated his slaves well, and so the only -conditions that she knew anything about were of slavery at its best. -She had such a happy girlhood on her father’s plantation, where the -slaves were all eager to do anything for her, that her memories of -it are very pleasant. I’ve never wanted to disturb them, because it -wouldn’t do any good and it might spoil the pleasure she takes in -thinking about those days; and so I’ve never talked about it with her, -although she knows, of course, what I think.” - -Rhoda threw him an admiring glance, which he, with his eyes averted in -semi-embarrassment at having revealed a glimpse of his inner self to -his offspring, did not see. - -“Mother has told us, Charlotte and me,” Rhoda went on thoughtfully, “so -many things about her girlhood and her father’s plantation, and she has -always been so pleased in recalling those days, that I couldn’t help -wondering sometimes if anything could be wrong that made everybody as -happy as they seemed to have been in her home. And Charlotte, you know, -is quite convinced that slavery is all right.” - -“Oh, Charlotte!” Dr. Ware exclaimed in an amused tone. “She’s just a -little fire-eater! But she doesn’t mean half she says.” - -“Sometimes she doesn’t, but she seems to be getting quite in earnest -about it lately.” - -“Like all the rest of us, on both sides,” her father appended. - -“Mother says her father never sold a negro,” Rhoda went on, “and that -his slaves were always contented and happy and that the same things -were true on the other plantations where she visited.” - -Dr. Ware’s face darkened. “He didn’t, while he lived. But he left his -affairs in such a tangle when he died that most of his slaves were sold -to satisfy his debts. Your mother was ill then--it was about the time -you were born--and I did not tell her, and as we were living in the -North nobody else did, anything about that part of it. To this day she -doesn’t know”--he was clipping off his words in a tone of impersonal -resentment--“that her old mammy, of whom she was so fond, was sold to -a trader who was buying for a cotton plantation in the South. When I -found out about it I tried to have her traced, so as to buy her myself, -bring her North and free her. But I finally found that she was dead and -that her fate, though different, had been no better than Uncle Tom’s.” - -The girl drew back with an exclamation of horror, and her eyes filled. -“Oh, father! That good, kind creature, who loved mother so much!” - -“Don’t ever tell your mother,” he cautioned. “It would do no good and -it would make her unhappy. You see, Rhoda, how impossible it is for one -man, no matter how good his intentions may be, to keep back the evil -that is inherent in slavery. He can’t make his own affairs better than -the system very long.” - -Rhoda was looking out through the open door, her brow puckered in a -thoughtful frown, the pain in her heart evidenced by the droop and the -quiver of her sensitive lips. Dr. Ware’s office was on the eastern side -of the house and faced a gate, opening from the cross street, through -which a young man was now striding hastily. - -“There’s Horace Hardaker!” she exclaimed. “How excited he looks! Oh, do -you suppose he’s had bad news from Julia?” - -They sprang to their feet and rushed out upon the veranda. “Very -likely,” her father answered. “The border ruffians are overrunning -eastern Kansas. What is it, Horace? What has happened?” he went on, -grasping the young man’s hand as he mounted the steps. They pressed -close to him, expectant, their faces anxious. - -“Julia--have you had bad news?” Rhoda threw in breathlessly. - -Hardaker’s face was working with suppressed excitement and it was a -moment before he could speak. - -“You haven’t heard?” he broke out. “Oh, it’s frightful! Senator Sumner -was attacked yesterday in the senate chamber and beaten almost to -death!” - -“My God, Horace! Who did it?” cried Dr. Ware, gripping the other’s -hand, his face paling. - -“Preston Brooks--” - -“Of South Carolina--yes, go on!” - -“Senator Butler’s nephew--that speech of Sumner’s the other day--” - -“Yes, yes! The crimes of the South! Brooks has killed him?” - -“No, but he may not live. Brooks came upon him from behind, as he sat -at his desk, and while he was penned there pounded him over the head -with a heavy cane.” - -“Will the North stand this insult?” Dr. Ware exclaimed, dropping the -other’s hand, which unconsciously he had been gripping and shaking -during their colloquy. With quick steps and short turns he marched -this way and that as they went on talking, running his fingers through -his hair until it stood upright. Rhoda shared in their excitement, -her nerves still tingling from her recent emotion, mind and heart -alike ready to be deeply impressed by the news. With brief, sharp -sentences they broke across one another’s speech, turning pale faces -and glittering eyes from one to another. - -“Brooks’s companions held back those who tried to go to Sumner’s help!” - -“Oh, what a brutal and cowardly--” - -“If the North is not utterly craven--” - -“It’s the most atrocious thing they’ve dared yet!” - -“Beecher’s bibles are the thing to answer it with!” - -“The sooner the better!” - -“If there’s any manhood at all in the North!” - -After a little they grew calmer and went into the office, where -Hardaker related the details of the event which was about to set both -sections of the country in an uproar. Presently Rhoda asked what news -he had had from his sister Julia, lately married--Rhoda had been her -bridesmaid--and gone with her husband to Kansas. North and South were -in the midst of their bitter struggle for the embryonic state, and -from each settlers were pouring into it, there to translate their -convictions into guerrilla warfare, while their friends at home waited -fearfully each day as news came of battle, murder, the burning of -houses, the sacking of towns. - -“We’ve heard nothing worse, so far, than you’ve seen in the papers -already. But it won’t be long. They’re cooking up some dastardly -outrage and any day we may hear that Lawrence has been burned and all -the people killed. Mother never opens the ‘Tribune’ herself now. She -waits for me to look in it first and then tell her what the Kansas -letters say.” - -Hardaker was asked to stay to dinner, and Rhoda went to tell her mother -of the guest. Then the two men drew their chairs close together and -spoke in low tones. - -“I saw Conners this morning,” said Horace, “and he told me that they’re -watching his place so close now that it isn’t safe to have them come -there any more. And he’s made up his mind to go out to Kansas anyway, -and expects to leave in a month or two. So we’ve got to have a new -station.” - -“Yes,” mused Dr. Ware, “there must be some place not too far from the -river where they can hide as soon as possible after they cross. I -wonder if I could manage it here. If I could, this would be just the -place. The house sets up so high that they could steer their course for -it from the other side, and, once across, they could easily make their -way up here after dark.” - -“But could you take care of them safely?” the other asked with evident -surprise. - -“I couldn’t heretofore, but it may be different now!” and he leaned -forward with a smile of satisfaction. “You saw how moved Rhoda was just -now. She’s been reading ‘Uncle Tom’s Cabin’ and it’s had a profound -effect upon her, just as I hoped it would. She went down to Cincinnati -with me last week and I took her to Levi Coffin’s. She was very much -interested in the talk there--you know about what it was. After she’s -had time to think about it--Rhoda doesn’t do things on impulse, you -know--I believe, Horace, my girl will be ready to help me out!” - -“But what about--” Hardaker began, then stopped, embarrassed. - -“I know what you mean. I wouldn’t, of course, ask Mrs. Ware to -concern herself actively in the matter, or to know any more about -it than she wanted to. But we could depend on her to keep her own -counsel. Charlotte need not know anything about it--although she’d be -pretty sure to find out all about it before long. Then she’d tell me -frequently and forcibly, just what kind of a pickpocket she considers -me--” He stopped a moment, smiling indulgently, but went on, conviction -in his tone: “But she wouldn’t tell. She’d be loyal to me. And as for -my colored man Jim and his wife Lizzie, in the kitchen, they’ll do -anything under the sun to help the thing along. They bought their -freedom, only a few years ago. I think, Horace, it will be all right!” - -Rhoda found her mother and sister in the big, cool sitting-room, Mrs. -Ware darning stockings and Charlotte at the piano, playing “The Battle -of Prague.” She wheeled round at Rhoda’s announcement of the guest for -dinner. - -“That Black Abolitionist!” she exclaimed scornfully, her eyes flashing. -“I shall not sit at the table with him!” - -“Charlotte!” her mother chided. “Your father’s guest! Be ashamed!” - -“Why don’t you decline to sit at the table with father?” Rhoda asked -quietly, but with an unaccustomed tone in her voice that made the other -look at her sharply. Her face and manner still betrayed signs of her -recent agitation. Charlotte saw them and wondered if anything had been -happening between her and Horace Hardaker. She did not know that he had -more than once plead his suit with Rhoda and had been denied. - -“Where is he now?” she asked. - -“In the office, with father.” - -Had he then been making love to Rhoda and was he now getting the -matter settled with their father? Then it would be impossible not to -be present at the dinner table. But for the present she would stick to -her guns. She rose and moved toward the door, giving her hoopskirts an -angry swish. - -“No!” she paused to say, with emphasis, “you cannot expect me, thinking -as I do about Horace Hardaker, to sit at the same table with him. I -shall ask Lizzie to save my dinner for me and eat it after he goes -away.” - -But when they met in the dining-room Charlotte was already there, -arranging flowers on the table, a rose in her hair and another at her -throat and Hardaker’s place set beside her own. At first his manner -toward her was courteous, though formal, but as the meal progressed and -she smiled upon him, rallied him, and talked to him and at him with -audacious little speeches, his reserve melted and his attention was -gradually centered upon her. Every now and then she stole a glance at -Rhoda, secretly wondering and discomfited that her sister did not seem -more disturbed or make some effort to prevent her from monopolizing -Hardaker’s attention. She reassured herself with thinking, “But she -never does show things out much.” - -After dinner Dr. and Mrs. Ware left the three young people together -upon the veranda. Horace asked Rhoda about her visit to Levi Coffin’s -in Cincinnati, but Charlotte cut in with some saucy remarks that -set them to laughing and when presently she strolled off across the -lawn to a grape arbor at the other side of the yard, he was in close -attendance. Rhoda brought her sewing from the house and began hemming -the flounces for Charlotte’s gown. - -There was a suggestion of triumph in Charlotte’s expression and manner -when they came back and all three stood under the butternut tree beside -the east gate, where Dr. Ware’s carriage was waiting for him to dismiss -a patient. Had she not taken young Hardaker away from her sister at -once and herself appropriated all his attention? But when she could -not help seeing that the ordinary friendliness between the two was -neither disturbed nor accentuated, she began to think that perhaps her -previous surmise had been mistaken. And when Horace bade them a casual -good-by, in which her keen eyes could discover no trace of any unusual -sentiment, and drove away with their father, she decided that after all -it had not been worth while. “But anyway it was more fun than eating -dinner alone,” she thought. “And when Mr. Jefferson Delavan comes--” - - - - -CHAPTER III - - -We blundering humans are much given to looking back over our lives and -saying, “There we made a mistake. If it were to do over again we would -do thus and so, and then things would turn out much better and happier.” - -But if we could go back and live our lives over again, at how many of -the turning points would we have the courage, or the desire, to take -the other direction? How often would we care to risk any different -combination of events than that which we had formerly dared? For -experience has taught us, at least, how endless and how momentous is -the line of events, not only for ourselves but also for a growing -multitude of others, that we set in motion with each choice of the -forking road. Moved by our own desires and the compelling force of -outward circumstances we travel over the course the first time, -choosing our route with little thought for the intricate coils of -consequence that hang upon our steps. But if we were to journey over -it again would not our feet drag at the turnings and waver back to the -path we already knew, rather than venture blindly upon some new chain -of events, leading none could tell whither and ending only with the end -of time? - -Thus did it happen that Dr. Amos M. Ware in after years sometimes -debated with himself as to whether he made a mistake in not speaking -sooner to his daughter Rhoda about the work, of deep concern to him, -in which he hoped to enlist her sympathy and help. Often did he ask -himself if perhaps it would not have been better for her had he laid -his plan before her at once, on the very day of Hardaker’s visit, when -her mind and heart were so deeply impressed that there would have been -little doubt of her acquiescence. But he wanted to talk with her more, -to give her more things to read, and so to lead her deeper into the -heart of the fires with which North and South were burning. And in the -meantime came Jefferson Delavan. - -Afterwards he was wont to say to himself that if he had spoken, and -everything had been arranged and the work started before that event -happened, the young man’s coming would have made little difference to -Rhoda, that then he would simply have gone away again and that would -have been the end of it. But he was wont also to reassure himself with -the thought that perhaps Delavan would have come again anyway, and -that, even if he had not returned, perhaps it would have been no better -for Rhoda. But the “ifs” and “perhapses” so tangled up his reflections -that he always ended by thinking he would not quite like to risk -acting differently if it were to do over again. - -Of course, there would have been a story anyway, no matter what -Dr. Ware might have done at that particular juncture, nor what the -consequences of his action might have been. It would not have been the -story I am about to relate, and perhaps Jefferson Delavan would not -have been in it. But given Rhoda Ware and given her environment, it -would have been bound to be a story somewhat out of the ordinary. As -to that, however, in every human life there is a story that needs only -adequate telling to make it seem more interesting than life does to the -most of us. - -Rhoda Ware’s father did not know what she thought, nor, indeed, whether -or not she had any conviction, upon the right or wrong of the system -of helping and hasting fugitive slaves through the northern states to -Canada and freedom which in that day was known, and has passed into -history, as the Underground Railroad. He did feel sure, and his pride -in her increased with the thought, that if she were not convinced of -its righteousness, although it was in defiance of the law, she would -not engage in it. But he also felt sure that if she saw the matter as -did he and his co-workers, as a question of the right of the individual -conscience above the general law, she would come to his assistance with -courage and enthusiasm. And therefore before broaching the subject he -wished to make sure of her convictions upon all the points that led up -to this practical climax. - -Like thousands upon thousands of others, her first keen feeling upon -the subject of slavery was aroused by the reading of Mrs. Stowe’s -fateful book. She was only one of the unnumbered host for whom its -emotional appeal was the first incentive to active opposition. The -influence of “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” upon the course of events preceding -the Civil War is proof of how much more ready we Americans are to be -moved by our emotions than by argument, of how much more willing we are -to think with our hearts than with our heads. - -Dr. Ware put into her hands Senator Sumner’s speech on “The Crime -against Kansas,” the cause of the assault upon him, which was being -read all through the north by the hundred thousand copies, and he -brought her reports of the huge meetings of indignation held in Boston, -New York, and other cities, and presided over and addressed by men of -national fame. From Kansas the news of the sacking of Lawrence added -fuel to the flame of anger that was sweeping over the North, and to -the feeling of horror and reprobation in which Rhoda joined there was -added in her mind the note of personal resentment. For a letter from -her friend Julia Hammerton, Horace Hardaker’s sister, gave an intimate -account of the attack and told of the indignities and loss herself and -her husband had suffered at the hands of the border ruffians. - -Rhoda was deeply moved by these events and day by day became more -keenly interested, while her father, watching her closely, decided -that soon he would speak to her upon the project he had so much at -heart. He purposed to lay before her the whole question, tell her of -the part which it was his desire to take in the work of the Underground -Railroad, and ask for her coöperation. - -Underneath the apparent peace in which the Ohio river town of Hillside -basked in the sweet May sunshine of that day when Rhoda and her father -drove up the hill on their return from Cincinnati, feeling on the -slavery question ran deep and bitter. And the events which had happened -since that day had intensified the heat and the bitterness until, -just as all over the country, men felt that they were dwelling over a -volcano which might break out at any moment, none could tell with what -violence and destruction. The pro-slavery element of the town, quick to -seize every opportunity of expressing its friendliness for the South, -held a meeting at which resolutions were passed lauding Representative -Brooks for his chivalry in coming to the defense of his kinsman and -his state, and declaring that he deserved the admiration of all who -believed in honor and manliness for the justly deserved punishment he -had meted out to a notorious abolitionist. And then money was donated -with enthusiasm for the purchase of a cane to be presented to him which -should bear the inscription, “Use knock-down arguments” and the device -of a broken human head. - -The anti-slavery element planned to hold a meeting two nights later at -which they proposed to express their feelings in denunciation of Brooks -and in praise of Sumner and his speech, to voice their indignation -over the course of events in Kansas, and to ask for money for the -relief of the free-state settlers and for the sending of more colonists -with whom to swell their numbers. It was Dr. Ware’s intention to take -Rhoda to this meeting, at which he was to make the principal speech, -and immediately afterward to have with her the conversation which he -believed would secure her help. - -But in the afternoon of that day Jefferson Delavan appeared at the door -of his office and hoped he might present his respects to Mrs. Ware and -Miss Rhoda. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - - -“‘A felon’s blow,’ indeed! O, la, you horrid thing!” - -Charlotte Ware, alone in the living-room, rocked violently back and -forth a few times, apparently as an outlet for her indignation, then -turned her flushed cheeks and snapping eyes again upon the New York -“Tribune” in her hands. She stayed her rocking for a moment, absorbed -in the article which had aroused her anger, but presently broke out -again: - -“‘The symbol of the South is the bludgeon!’ Oh, you wretch!” - -She struck the page with her fist, but went on reading again until she -came to some sentiment which gave a still deeper prod to her anger. -Then springing to her feet, she crushed the journal into a ball, -whipped off her slipper and began to spank vigorously the offending -news. The paper flew from her hands and the kitten, which had tumbled -from her lap, whisked after it. She pursued and sent it across the room -with another blow, ran after it and beat it again, exclaiming, “There! -That’s what you deserve!” - -“Charlotte, what are you doing?” It was her father’s voice at the -door, and without looking up she answered, between her whacks at the -tattered paper: - -“It’s that old meeting in New York about Sumner and I’m giving that -horrid Beecher person’s speech what it deserves, and I wish it was him!” - -“Bravo, Miss Charlotte!” came quick response in a strange masculine -voice, followed by a hearty laugh and two or three little handclaps. - -She wheeled, her slipper in her hand, and saw a young man beside her -father in the doorway, a good-looking young man, broad-shouldered and -erect of stature. It flashed upon her that this must be Mr. Jefferson -Delavan. Under cover of picking up the kitten she adroitly slipped on -her shoe. As she came forward, blushing and confused, trying to cover -her embarrassment with an extra tilting of her hoopskirt and a pouting, -defiant little smile, she seemed to Delavan to be little more than a -spoiled, amusing child, so sweet and dainty to look at that to indulge -her would be a pleasure. - -Mrs. Ware was delighted by Delavan’s coming, and would listen to no -other arrangement than that he should stay with them, at least over -night. When she heard this Charlotte considered whether or not she -should deny herself the excitement of attending the meeting that night. -She had already accepted the escort of a young admirer whose sentiments -were as vehemently pro-slavery as her own, and he had confided to -her that something interesting was likely to happen. Perhaps it would -be just as interesting to stay at home and prevent Mr. Delavan from -showing Rhoda too much attention. But there would be opportunity for -that afterward, and the meeting would be only that evening. So she -decided not to send word to her escort that she had changed her mind. -When she came downstairs ready to go, her father, meeting her in the -hall, said, with more gravity than he was accustomed to use toward her: - -“I hope, Charlotte, you won’t let that young Saunders forget who you -are.” - -“Don’t you worry, father,” she responded assuringly. “I won’t let him -hiss you, anyway.” - -With much inward regret Dr. Ware gave up his plan of taking Rhoda to -the meeting with him. She and her mother sat on the veranda with their -guest and Mrs. Ware told them anecdotes about her own and his mother’s -girlhood and of the intimacy which had caused the young women to be -known among all their acquaintance as “the two alter egos.” “And after -awhile,” said Mrs. Ware, in happy reminiscence, “they always called one -of us ‘alter’ and the other ‘ego,’ without making any distinction as to -which was which.” - -In the days of that friendship they had had their miniatures painted, -each for the other, and Delavan had brought, from his dead mother’s -possessions, that of Mrs. Ware. - -“I thought you might like to have it again, Mrs. Ware, madam,” he said, -in his slightly ceremonious manner, “either for yourself, as a memento -of your girlhood, or to give to Miss Rhoda.” - -Rhoda bent over it with eager, tender interest. “Oh, mother!” she -exclaimed, “does this really look as you did then? How you have -changed!” And, indeed, in her matronly figure, short and plump, there -was little suggestion of the trim and graceful outlines of the young -girl in the picture. The brown hair had grown quite gray, the bright -color had faded from the face, and the dainty contour of cheek, chin -and throat had been despoiled by the quarter-century which had since -passed over her head. But although the years had stolen her beauty they -had left in its place a worthy gift. For motherliness informed her -features, her look was tender, and the grace of gentleness controlled -her manner. - -Delavan was at Rhoda’s elbow, looking at the miniature with her, and -now and then stealing a glance from the portrait to the girl’s face. -“You needn’t do that, Jeff,” Mrs. Ware smiled at him, “for you can’t -find the least resemblance to me in Rhoda’s features. She’s like her -father in looks and disposition and everything,” and her eyes rested -fondly upon her first-born. - -“But how much it is like Charlotte!” Rhoda insisted, and pointed out -the likeness in mouth and chin, nose and brow, in expression and in -coloring. - -Moved to tender retrospection by the memories that came crowding upon -her, she told them about her courtship and marriage. “It was at White -Sulphur Springs that I first met your father, Rhoda,” she said, “and -from the very start he never seemed to have eyes for anybody but me. -He was from the North, you know, from Providence, and he was taking a -horseback trip through the South for his health. He had letters to the -Colbys, good friends of ours who were there too, and so I soon met him. -Ah, what happy times we used to have at White Sulphur!” and she went -on to tell of rides and dances and flirtations in which they heard the -names of gay young gallants, known to them now as men of prominence in -Washington or capital cities in the South. - -“But father--what became of him?” reminded Rhoda. - -“Oh, he was always wherever I was, as long as he stayed at the -Springs, that summer. Afterwards he was with the Colbys, who owned -the next plantation to ours, tutoring their boys. That was such a gay -winter--something going on all the time--dear me!” She broke off into -a happy little laugh and the spirit of that long dead time flared up -again in the instinctive coquetry with which she tossed her head, moved -in her chair and flourished her fan. Delavan looked at her and smiled, -thinking of the Amos M. Ware of those days and wondering what would be -his account of that winter. Rhoda’s eyes noted the movement and the -expression and she thought, “That’s just like Charlotte!” - -“My people did not want me to marry him,” Mrs. Ware went on, “because -he was a northerner. But one day he came to take me to ride--two such -splendid black horses they were, and how they could travel! Well, -we went, for I always had my own way, and such a wild ride we had! -We galloped and galloped, and I was very gay, as I always was, but -your father, Rhoda, looked so serious and strange that I was a little -frightened inside of me, though I wouldn’t have let him know it for -the world. I suppose that made me--a little--worse than usual, and he -didn’t say anything, but just made the horses go faster and faster, and -after a while he rode close beside me and seized my arm and said-- O, -never mind what he said!”--her voice trembled and almost broke and it -was a moment before she went on. “Well, the end of it was that we ran -away and were married. Of course my people were very angry about it, -but they forgave me, as I knew they would, though they never did quite -forgive him. He took me away at once to New York, where he wanted to -study medicine, and I never lived in the South again.” - -Rhoda listened with a little tremor in her nerves and her heart -beating faster. Vividly the vision came before her--the pretty, gay -young woman with her wilful coquetries and the masterful young man -urging their horses faster and faster--and they were her father and -mother! How strange it seemed to think of them under the stress of such -a wild, compelling love. That, then, was what love was like--for its -sake her mother had dared the anger of her people, and had given up -them and their love and her home and all her early associations which -had meant to her such great happiness. The moon was swimming upward -through a sea-like expanse of dim blue sky and casting its spell of -beauty over the flower-decked yard, the solemn tree shapes guarding -the street and the glimpses of river beyond. Fireflies were weaving -patterns of light down among the shrubbery and behind it the white -palings of the fence gleamed, unreal as the walls of a dream palace. Up -from the rose-laden bushes, on the softly stirring air, came waves of -fragrance. - -Mrs. Ware was going on with a story about Delavan’s mother and herself -and Rhoda heard her mention her “old mammy”! Instantly the girl’s -thought flashed to what her father had told her a little while before, -and the tears came to her eyes at the realizing sense of how his love -had shielded for his wife her memories and her pleasure in them. This, -then, was what love was like--but suddenly imagination drove thought -away and again she saw the vision of those two young lovers galloping -faster and faster, while love plied whip and spur. Then without warning -her mind played a trick upon her and there flashed across it a memory -of her own--of children playing pirates, herself and the other girls -princesses in short dresses and pantalettes, and the man now sitting -beside her, a long-legged boy, bearing down upon their palace, singling -her out and bearing her away to his treasure cave. - -They strolled down into the yard, but Mrs. Ware did not like the dew -on the grass and went back to the veranda. Rhoda and Delavan idled on -through the moonlight. - -“Do you know what I’ve just been thinking of?” he questioned. - -“No. How could I? But--” she plucked a red rose and held it toward him, -her upper lip lifting in a smile that sent a brightness over her face, -“a flower for your thoughts!” - -He took it, pressed it to his lips and fastened it in his buttonhole. -They were passing a great bed of white petunias, gleaming like ghost -flowers in the moonlight and sending forth sweet odors that filled the -air all round about. - -“I was thinking,” he began, and to Rhoda the sweetness of their -fragrance seemed suddenly to be translated into his tones and to be -coursing through her own veins. Never again was she to be able to sense -the odor of petunias without darting memory of how he pressed her rose -to his lips and said, “I was thinking of that evening when we played -pirates. Do you remember?” - -They had come to the entrance of the grape arbor, at the western side -of the yard. It was dark with the heavy foliage of the vines, and Rhoda -hesitated an instant as she glanced at the shadows within, checkered -here and there with gleams of light, and gave a faint exclamation -at his words. A dim prescience, barely realized, crossed her -consciousness, as of something, some destiny, waiting for her within -those shadows. A broad band of moonlight, shining through the entrance, -lay across the seat. - -“You startled me, a little,” she said, sitting down in the white glow, -“because--it’s very curious--I thought of that evening myself, just -now!” - -“You did? What a coincidence! Then you must remember how hard I had -to work to beat Lloyd Corey, the other pirate, to your palace, and -how I chose you out of all the princesses and carried you off? Do you -remember? Lloyd and I had a duel about you, with cornstalks, that -evening, after you girls went in, and I won, and after that he had to -let me pick you out every time--do you remember--Rhoda--that I did -always choose you? The very first day that you came, Harry Morehead and -Lloyd and I talked over you and all the other girls that were there, -comparing you and saying which we thought we would like best, and -I told them that I liked Rhoda Ware the best of them all and that I -was going to marry her some day. That was just boy’s talk, of course, -but--Rhoda--Rhoda Ware--we are man and woman now, and I love you, and -I--still mean to marry you, if you will have me--will you?” - -He had been standing before her, bending low, speaking in quick, -soft tones, in which she felt a passionate masterfulness that set -her own pulses throbbing. Somewhere in the back of her mind she -had a dim memory of her father seizing her mother by the arm and -galloping--galloping-- Unconsciously she moved to one side and -nervously swept her wide skirts from the bench. He sat down beside her, -and as the moonlight fell full upon her figure he saw that her bosom -was heaving and her hands trembling. - -“Have you--not been--too hasty?” she asked, in a troubled voice. “We -know so little of each other!” - -“I know I love you and want you for my wife. I knew that when we were -together on the boat, and in Cincinnati, and I know it now more surely -even than I did then. But if you are not so sure of yourself, if you -want to know more about me, I will wait for your answer. But you won’t -deny me at once--you won’t send me away for good, now, will you, Rhoda?” - -He bent toward her, his masterfulness all gone, face and voice full -of pleading. She gave him one swift, smiling glance, bright in the -moonlight, and whispered, “No, not now--let us wait a little.” - -He seized her hand. It was cold and trembling. She let him hold it -for a moment in both of his. “Rhoda, Rhoda, you love me a little!” he -exclaimed, as he felt it fluttering within his palms. - -“Perhaps, a little--I don’t know,” she hesitated. From down the hill -came the sound of voices. “They are coming home,” she went on in -steadier tones. “Let us go back to the house.” - -The fact had not yet presented itself to Rhoda Ware’s remembrance -that Jefferson Delavan was a slaveholder. She knew that he owned a -plantation which he worked with slave labor, but her thoughts had been -filled by his personality alone, without reference to his surroundings -or conditions. And during the evening his presence and her mother’s -reminiscences had swept all her thoughts and emotions away from the -immediate present and the outer world. For the time being it was -quite outside her consciousness that he had any connection with the -institution of slavery. - -As for Delavan, he did not know anything about Dr. Ware’s sentiments -on that burning question. The subject had not been mentioned during -their conversations on the boat and since his arrival in the afternoon -he had seen but little of his host. Mrs. Ware, with her delight at his -coming and her talk about his mother and their girlhood days, and -Rhoda’s presence, had engrossed his attention. Moreover, Charlotte’s -performance, upon which he and Dr. Ware had unexpectedly come, had been -misleading to whatever thought he had given to the matter. And that -young lady was about to make deeper the impression. - -Seated on the veranda steps she lamented her mistake in going to the -meeting. “There was no fun at all,” she declared. “It was as orderly -and quiet as a funeral. I wish it had been old Sumner’s funeral! And -how they did talk about ‘Bully Brooks’!” She caught up the kitten, -which at the sound of her voice had come purring against her skirts, -and exclaimed: - -“Prince of Walesy, you’ve got to have your name changed! You’re going -to be ‘Bully Brooks’ after this! Because he’s the best man out!” - -“Good for you, Miss Charlotte! You’re a girl after my own heart!” -Delavan heartily approved. They were alone on the veranda, Dr. Ware -having hurried to his office, where a patient was waiting. At that -moment Mrs. Ware and Rhoda returned, with cool drinks, and the talk -turned to other subjects. But Delavan had gained a distinct impression -that Dr. Ware’s family was pro-slavery in sentiment. - -Later in the evening, when Rhoda went into her sister’s bedroom to say -good-night, she found Charlotte sitting before a mirror with their -mother’s miniature, carefully comparing it with her own reflection. -“Come here, Rhoda,” she said, “and see how much this looks like me!” - -Rhoda bent over her shoulder. The girl had arranged her hair like that -in the picture, and the resemblance was striking. “I know,” said Rhoda. -“I noticed it at once, but your hair this way makes it plainer. You -must look very much like mother did when she was your age--when they -were married.” - -Charlotte cast a glance back into the other’s face. “Yes,” she said, “I -must be the image of her. That’s why father loves me so much more than -he does you.” - -Rhoda turned sharply away. “Sister! He doesn’t! We are both his -daughters, and he loves us both.” - -“Of course he does,” Charlotte replied calmly. “But he loves me a great -deal more than he does you.” - -And in her secret heart Rhoda knew that her sister spoke the truth. - - - - -CHAPTER V - - -Never had Dr. Ware been more surprised than he was when Jefferson -Delavan came to him the next morning and said, without preliminary: - -“I wish to tell you, Dr. Ware, sir, that I love your daughter, Miss -Rhoda, and desire to make her my wife.” - -For a moment he gazed in speechless astonishment. “It seems to me, Mr. -Delavan,” he presently found tongue to say, “that you are being rather -precipitate. Have you spoken to Rhoda?” - -“I have, sir. She asks for time to make sure of herself. But she does -not leave me without hope. You must remember, sir, that we knew each -other when we were children.” - -“Oh, yes, for a few weeks, I believe! And you’ve been in each other’s -company a few hours since! Do you think that is long enough for you -to acquire such knowledge of each other as you ought to have before -venturing upon this important step?” - -“It has been long enough, sir, for me to discover that she has a sweet -and noble nature and to know that I love her. And I do not ask from -her at present any definite promise. I ask only for your permission to -endeavor to win her love and her promise as soon as possible. You know -who I am and I am sure you will acquit me of presumption, sir, if I -remind you that my name is an honored one in my state and neighborhood. -I trust you will have any inquiries made that you like concerning my -personal character, and I shall be happy to give you at any time an -account of my financial affairs, in order that you may satisfy yourself -I can give your daughter a home and a position such as she deserves.” - -“Your attitude is that of an honorable man, Mr. Delavan, and if the -matter goes on I shall take advantage of your offer.” - -Dr. Ware arose and began moving back and forth across the room. “But -you are a slaveholder, I believe. Do you think it wise for two people -to marry who hold such opposing opinions about a question that both -think of importance?” - -It was the young man’s turn to be surprised. He rose and looked at the -other in astonishment. “What do you mean, Dr. Ware? I thought--Miss -Charlotte--?” - -“Yes, I understand. Charlotte likes to talk and she says a great deal -more than she means. But Rhoda and I are in sympathy on the question of -slavery, and I am what you southern people call a fanatic and a black -abolitionist. If I had supposed that our meeting on the boat would lead -to anything more than mere passing acquaintance I would have spoken of -my sentiments then.” - -“It seems to me, sir, that if husband and wife love each other truly, -matters of opinion are of little consequence between them.” - -Dr. Ware shook his head gravely. “A matter of opinion? My young friend, -it is much more than that, for both of you. But this is something for -you and Rhoda to settle between yourselves. As for me, it would grieve -me deeply to see Rhoda marry you, just because you are a slaveholder, -and I must tell you right now that whatever influence I have with my -daughter shall be used against your suit. Nevertheless,”--he held -out his hand, the young man gripped it, and they shook hands warmly, -although each saw kindling in the other’s eyes the fires of opposition. -“Nevertheless,” Dr. Ware went on, “you have my consent to win her if -you can. Frankly, though, I don’t believe you can do it after she -realizes that to be your wife she must be the mistress of slaves.” - -While Delavan was having his interview with her father, Rhoda, clasped -in her mother’s arms, was hearing exclamations of delight and forecasts -of happiness: “Rhoda, dear! how happy this makes me! Yes, I know, you -haven’t given him a final answer--and that’s quite right--keep him -off for a while--don’t let him think you’re easily won--but of course -you’ll have him finally! Oh, Rhoda, my little girl--to think that -you’re going to marry Adeline’s boy! If she knows--up in heaven--she’s -just as pleased over it as I am! If she could only have lived to see -it! And he’s such a dear fellow! Rhoda, dear, you’ll be so happy, I -know you will--and it is such a beautiful life down there!” - -She heard her younger daughter whistling in the hall. “There’s -Charlotte,” she exclaimed. “I think I’d better send her downtown on -some errand.” And wiping tears of joy from her eyes she hurried out -to complete her plan of eliminating Charlotte from the life of the -household for the rest of the morning. - -Rhoda went down to the veranda, taking with her the white silk out of -which she was making a bonnet for her mother, with her heart full of -tenderest emotion. Mrs. Ware’s delight and enthusiasm had made still -warmer and deeper her own thrilling happiness. As her fingers flew -over her work she listened to the faint tones of her lover’s voice, -and a soft glow stole into her eyes. Delavan surprised it there when -presently he came from her father’s office. - -“Rhoda!” he exclaimed. She saw the love-light flame across his face and -the color mounted to her brow. He sought to take her hand, but she drew -it away, saying shyly, “Not yet.” - -He went into the house to bid Mrs. Ware good-by, for he was going at -once, in order to catch the forenoon trip of the ferry boat across the -river. When he came out Rhoda put down her work and walked with him -down the broad path between the hedges of lilac to the front gate. - -“When can I have my answer?” he pleaded. “The next time I come?” - -On the instant there sprang up in her heart a something she had -never felt before. It was not the first time she had listened to the -pleadings of a would-be lover, but never before had there been one -who had not got his answer, frank and straightforward, at once; never -one toward whom she had felt this instinctive impulse to enjoy his -suspense. Serious-minded offspring of her father though she was, yet -it was not for nothing that she was her mother’s daughter. Already she -knew what her answer was to be and knew that she could give it to him -at any moment. Her short upper lip lifted in a flashing little smile -that illumined her whole face. Delavan drew toward her, his eyes upon -the soft curves of her mouth. - -“How can I tell?” she said. “There is so much to think over--I must -have time.” - -“Your mother would be very pleased!” - -“Yes, dear mother, I know,” she murmured fondly. “She loved your mother -so dearly. And father? You talked with him, just now?” - -“He says that I may win you if I can.” It did not occur to him to say -anything about the doubt Dr. Ware had expressed of his success, or the -attitude her father had warningly declared he would take. All that -had been swept out of his mind--he had not even thought it of much -consequence at the time. And now, looking down upon Rhoda’s blushing -face, he forgot everything but the hope that if he could induce her to -lift her downcast eyes he might surprise surrender therein. But he was -to be disappointed in that, for when presently he did look into their -gray depths they were merely gentle and serious. - -“When may I come again?” - -“We shall all be glad to see you whenever you come--Mr. Delavan--” - -“At least you might call me Jeff,” he interrupted, “as you did when we -were children!” - -“Well then, Jeff,” and her manner took on with the word a shade more -of intimacy, which sent his eyes flying once more to hers. “I’m -sure--Jeff--” this time she said it mockingly--“mother will be pleased -if you come again soon. And we’ll all be glad to see you.” - -“And you?” - -“Of course! There’s so much we haven’t talked over yet about those -happy days we had so long ago-- And we might play pirates again--if -you’ll bring Lloyd Corey with you! He was such a nice boy! I’d really -like to see him again.” - -“Confound Lloyd Corey! Shall I have to carry you off, as I did that -time, or shall you have something to tell me then?” - -“Oh, I can’t promise--” she hesitated and her voice took on an -intonation as she spoke his name that sent a thrill to his -heart,--“Jeff--anything about it--what I shall say, or whether I can -have anything to say then, more than now. But I would like to see Lloyd -Corey again!” - -Leaning upon the gate, Rhoda watched her lover’s figure as he swung -down the long, tree-bowered street. When she turned she saw her father -coming down the path and waited there, blushing and casting up at him -now and again a shy glance. - -“Young Delavan surprised me very much just now,” he began. “I told him, -as I suppose he reported to you, that he had my consent to win you -if he could. I don’t suppose, though, that he also told you I didn’t -believe he could and that it would grieve me deeply to see you marry -him.” - -Rhoda bent upon him surprised eyes. “Why, father, what do you mean? -Don’t you like him?” - -“Yes, Rhoda, I like him well enough, personally, but you know how -I feel about slavery and all who are responsible for it. Have you -forgotten that Jefferson Delavan is a slaveholder?” - -The color faded from her face, and into her wide, gray eyes, fastened -upon his, there came a look, as of some wild thing suddenly stricken, -that smote his heart. She flinched a little and he turned away, that he -might not see her pain. - -“I guess, daughter, you hadn’t thought about that,” he went on, kindly. - -“No,” she repeated after him, “I--I hadn’t thought about that.” - -“But you knew that he has slaves, that he works his plantation with -slave labor?” - -“Yes, father, I knew it, somewhere back in my mind, but I didn’t think -anything about it. I didn’t think of anything but--just him!” - -“But you’ll have to think about it now,” he said in a gently suggestive -tone. - -“Yes,” she assented dully, “I’ll have to think about it now”--she -stopped, then went on with a flash of pain in her tone, “when I can -think!” - -“You must try to realize,” her father went on, “before it is too late, -how you would like to be the mistress of slaves, supported by slave -labor, your welfare and all your interests so bound up with the system -of slavery that you will be forced to become one of its defenders.” - -Her head drooped and she turned away with a little gesture of one hand -as though begging him to stop. He waited a moment and she faced him -again and said slowly, with little breaks and catchings of her breath: -“Father! I don’t believe I could do it! I--love him--I want to be his -wife--but--slaves! I couldn’t! I know I couldn’t!” - -She broke down then and began to sob softly under her breath. He put -his hand through her arm and led her up the path to the house. - -Mrs. Ware came out to meet them, anxiety in her face. “What is it? -What’s the matter?” she questioned. - -Rhoda straightened up and rested one hand upon her mother’s shoulder. -Mrs. Ware was short and plump of stature and Rhoda, tall and of slender -build like her father, looked down into her face with tear-filled eyes. - -“Mother,” she began, her tone already self-controlled, “I’m afraid -you’ll feel badly about it, but--I don’t think I can marry Jeff -Delavan, after all.” - -“Rhoda! Child! What is the trouble? What have you been saying to her, -Amos?” - -“There, mother! You mustn’t blame father. He only reminded me that -Jeff is a slaveholder. Of course, I knew it before, but I--just hadn’t -thought about it. Mother, you’ll think me foolish, I know, but I -don’t--I don’t think I can marry him.” - -“Is that all? Dear child, you’re making a mountain out of nothing at -all! Come with me, dear. Your father has been putting foolish notions -into your head. Come, we’ll talk it over, and you’ll soon see there’s -nothing in that to keep you apart!” - -Rhoda bent her head for a moment upon her mother’s shoulder and, half -reluctantly drawing herself from her father’s arm, which seemed even -more unwilling to let her go, started into the house. - -In their absorption they had not heard Charlotte coming up the walk. -“What’s the matter?” she exclaimed, seizing her father’s hand. “Is -Rhoda sick?” - -“You may tell her, father,” Rhoda turned to say, as she and Mrs. Ware -disappeared through the door. - -“Well, what is it?” Charlotte demanded briskly, as her father hesitated. - -“Jeff Delavan wants to marry her.” - -“Humph! Is that anything to cry about?” she commented, sitting down on -the veranda step. “Where is he? Is he crying too?” - -“He’s gone home--he went a little while ago.” - -She looked up surprised. “Oh, has he? I thought he’d still be here. But -what’s Rhoda crying about? Because he’s gone away so soon? Then why -didn’t she keep him? She didn’t refuse him, did she?” - -“No, she didn’t give him a definite answer. And since he went away she -has remembered that he is a slaveholder. You know how she and I feel -about slavery.” - -Charlotte sprang to her feet excitedly. “You don’t mean to say she’s -going to take that into account! I didn’t think she could be such a -goose!” She looked up at him with twinkling eyes. “Father, why didn’t -you take me down to Cincinnati with you, so he could have seen me -first? Oh, well, I suppose he’ll come back again, won’t he?” And with -a toss of her head she ran into the house, stopping at the door to -throw back at him an audacious laugh. - -He gazed after her, an indulgent smile on his face. Did the look of -her and the ring of her saucy laugh awaken some memory of the long ago -wherein flitted another dainty, girlish figure so much like her that -she sometimes startled him? At any rate, a still warmth took possession -of his heart and drove out the slight resentment that just now crept -in when his wife took Rhoda away to try to induce her to a course of -action so directly opposed to his own convictions. - - - - -CHAPTER VI - - -“That’s just right, Rhoda.” Charlotte nodded at herself in the mirror -and smiled with satisfaction as she turned this way and that, surveying -her reflection at different angles. “I hope you won’t marry Jeff -Delavan, for then I’d have to learn how to do this myself.” - -“You ought to learn how to make your own clothes, anyway,” her mother -commented reprovingly. The three of them were in an upstairs chamber -used as a sewing-room, Rhoda fitting upon her sister the bodice -of a white gown and Mrs. Ware, between stitches as she darned a -three-cornered tear in the muslin window curtain which the kitten had -just made, looking on and making suggestions. - -Charlotte tossed her head and tilted her hoopskirts as she did some -dancing steps in front of the mirror. “Oh, what’s the use, as long as -Rhoda likes to sew and I don’t! You couldn’t, mother, when you were -my age. I hope she won’t marry anybody as long as I’m at home. You’re -an awful goose, Rhoda. Suppose Jeff Delavan is a slaveholder--what do -you care about a pack of dirty niggers? They’re better off as slaves, -anyway. Billy Saunders has lived in South Carolina and he says you -couldn’t find anybody anywhere more contented and happy than the nigger -slaves down South and that they’re no more fit to be free and take care -of themselves than so many babies.” - -“Yes,” assented Mrs. Ware, “it has always seemed to me that they -need white masters to provide for their welfare. They really are not -competent to take care of themselves.” - -Rhoda listened to their talk as she adjusted a ruffled fichu about -her sister’s shoulders, but made no comment. Nobody but she knew how -wistfully, during these days, she was hearkening to arguments in favor -of slavery. - -Charlotte surveyed herself critically in the glass once more and patted -the fichu with approval. “It’s lovely, Rhoda, and I’m so glad you’re -a Black Abolitionist! No good-looking young slaveholder would need to -ask me more than once--that is, he wouldn’t need to if he knew it, but -it’s more interesting to make them ask several times--didn’t you use to -think so, mother? The more slaves he had the better I’d like him--and -the more times I’d let him propose. Oh, la! How lovely it would be -to have a dozen or so slaves ready to come the minute you call, and -every time you look out of a window to see droves of them, all working -for you! That would just suit us, wouldn’t it, Bully Brooks?” And she -caught up the kitten from the floor in time to save the curtain, -swaying in the breeze, from another attack. - -“It’s perfectly silly of you, Rhoda,” she went on, as she tilted out -of the room, the kitten on her shoulder, “to care any more about Jeff -Delavan’s having a lot of slaves than you would if they were so many -horses. Isn’t it, Bully Brooks?” - -The kitten gave quick and loud response and Mrs. Ware, with a frown in -her voice, called after her, “Charlotte!” But she heard in reply from -down the hall only a merry laugh and the whistled strains of “Comin’ -through the Rye.” - -“Charlotte is not sympathetic,” said her mother fondly, putting an arm -around Rhoda and pressing her cheek to her daughter’s, “but her ideas -are certainly correct. And any one will tell you so, dear, who has -lived in the South and knows what slavery really is. You’ve no right, -Rhoda, as I’ve already told you, to set yourself up in judgment on a -subject you know nothing about, and against those who know all about -it. Why can’t you trust your mother, honey?” - -She put her hands upon her daughter’s shoulders and looked up -beseechingly into Rhoda’s troubled face. “I know all about slavery, -dearie,” she went on, “for I lived in the heart of it until I was -married, and I give you my word the niggers are far happier and better -off under it than they would be if they were free. They don’t want -freedom. And they are so grateful to their masters and mistresses and -so fond of them! Why, dear, my old mammy loved me almost as much, I do -believe, as my mother did!” - -Rhoda recalled what her father had told her of that “old mammy’s” fate -and pressed her lips together in sudden fear lest, in spite of his -injunction, she might tell what she knew. - -“I know, mother,” she said falteringly, “at your home it seems to have -been as near right as it could be; but, mother, dear, they’re human -beings, and I can’t make it seem right, no matter how much I think -about it and try to see it as you do, that they should be bought and -sold!” - -“That’s only because you don’t know much about niggers, dear child! -They’re not really human beings, in the sense that we are. If you had -grown up among them as I did you would understand that. Charlotte is -quite right in saying they are no more to be considered than horses.” - -They sat down on the black horsehair sofa and Mrs. Ware went on, her -soft, southern tones full of pleading, one hand fluttering over the -girl in little caressing touches: “If you knew them as I do, Rhoda, and -knew how contented they are, you wouldn’t feel a moment’s hesitation. -And everybody lives so happily down there! Such hospitality, such -friendships, such enjoyment of life--everything so gracious and -charming! There’s nothing like it in the North! How homesick it makes -me, even yet, to think of it! Oh, honey! If I could only see you -settled in the midst of it, you don’t know how happy it would make -me! And Jeff--I don’t believe you realize, Rhoda, how much he loves -you! You ought to have heard him talk to me about you! Jeff would do -anything to make you happy!” - -Rhoda’s head dropped to her mother’s shoulder. “Oh, mother!” she cried, -“I wish--I wish you could convince me!” - -When she carried her sewing down to the veranda a little later Mrs. -Ware’s eyes followed her with a gaze of mingled longing and misgiving. -“Now she will go and talk with her father,” was the mother’s thought, -“and he will undo all that I’ve gained.” - -Rhoda saw that her father’s carriage was at the east gate, waiting -for him, and she had scarcely seated herself with her sewing when he -came out from his door. “Oh, Rhoda,” he called, “will you come here a -minute, please? - -“I’d like you to do something for me this morning,” he went on as they -stepped back into the office. “You know where the Mallard place is? The -first one beyond Gilbertson’s. They have sent in for some more medicine -for their sick child, but if there have been certain results I want -to make a change in the treatment. The man who brought me the message -didn’t know anything about it and I’ve got a hurry call that’s likely -to keep me all day. I’ll give you two kinds of medicine,” and he began -putting them up as he continued talking, “and if the child is sleeping -well and has no fever you can leave this package--the directions are -written here. But if not I want it to have this, until I go out there -to-morrow. Don’t say anything about having the two kinds, but make your -inquiries, and leave the package that the symptoms call for, and tell -them I’ll call to-morrow.” - -“All right, father. I can ride Dolly, I suppose? I’ll enjoy having a -gallop this morning.” - -“If she’d only been a boy,” he thought, as he hurried into the carriage -and drove away, “I’d have made a doctor of her. It’s a pity she -wasn’t--she’d make a first-class one, if she wasn’t a woman.” He held -the thought regretfully for a moment. But, radical though he was upon -many subjects, it did not occur to him that Rhoda could be a woman and -a physician at the same time. - -As he drove down the main street, past the law office of Horace -Hardaker, that young man rushed out and signaled him to stop. “If -you’ve got anything to tell me, Horace,” he said, reining up at the -sidewalk, “jump in and come along for a few blocks. I’m in a hurry and -can’t stop.” - -“A piece of U. G. baggage came over the river last night,” Hardaker -began as they drove on, his voice just above a whisper, “and went to -Conners’ house, as he had been directed. You know they’ve been keeping -a close watch on Conners lately, and this morning Marshal Hanscomb -swooped down while the baggage was still there. But Mrs. Conners got -him into a bonnet and veil and dress of hers, while Conners kept the -slave catchers at the front door a few minutes. She did a lot of -talking and laughing in the kitchen, as if she was saying good-by to -some neighbor woman, and hustled him out of the back door, just as -Conners had to let them in at the front. He got away all right, with -directions for going on to Gilbertson’s. If he gets there they’ll hide -him in their hollow haystack until the immediate danger blows over. But -the marshal and his catchers are after him to-day, and it’s a chance if -he makes it.” - -Dr. Ware’s face was serious. “No, Conners’ house won’t do any -longer--it isn’t safe,” he commented, in low tones. “We’ve got to -find some other place. My house is the best, if things turn out all -right. But I don’t know yet how it’s going to be. You met that young -man from Kentucky there last week, the evening of the meeting. He’s a -slaveholder, but he wants to marry Rhoda.” - -Hardaker made a sudden, nervous movement and the doctor, casting a -sidewise glance, saw a flush overspread his face. “I know, Horace--that -is, I guessed,” he said kindly, “and I wish, from the bottom of my -heart, that she might have felt differently about it.” - -“So do I, doctor,” the other answered grimly, “but--she didn’t. Is -she--does she--” he went on awkwardly and Dr. Ware took the burden of -the question from him. - -“She doesn’t know yet what she’ll do. If she decides to marry him that -will put an end to my scheme. I’d have to have somebody in the house -in sympathy with the work. Rhoda is so capable, she could take the -thing right into her own hands and carry it on so quietly that nobody -would know what she was about. I wish I’d got it started before Delavan -appeared on the scene.” - -“Delavan?” Hardaker repeated with sudden interest. “Is his name -Jefferson Delavan?” - -“Yes. He has a tobacco plantation down below Lexington.” - -Horace slapped his knee. “The same one!” he exclaimed softly, and went -on in reply to Dr. Ware’s look of inquiry: “He’s the owner of that -slave they so nearly caught at Conners’ house this morning, and he’s -out with Marshal Hanscomb following the fellow now!” - -Dr. Ware pursed his lips in a subdued whistle. “Then he’s likely to -come to my house again before he goes back. I’m sorry--he’s a taking -sort of chap, and Rhoda likes him.” - - * * * * * - -The sun was hot and Rhoda, on her homeward way, slowed her horse to a -walk and sought the shady side of the road. Her thoughts were busy with -her mother’s recent pleadings and arguments. A little frown wrinkled -the wide space between her level brows. “No,” she said to herself, -“no, father’s right about slavery--and mother’s wrong--she doesn’t -really know as much about it as he does, although she did live there so -long.” - -Her thoughts lingered over the stories her mother had told her of life -on the southern plantations, its gaiety and refinement and gracious -hospitality, and into her mind came the picture of the Delavan home as -she had seen it on a spring afternoon of her childhood--the long, noble -driveway, tree-arched, up which the carriage swept, the massive brick -house with its wide verandas, half hidden among trees, the carriage -circling the great lawn and drawing up at last at the steps, and Mrs. -Delavan coming eagerly forward to receive them, her husband by her side -and close behind her the two children, Jeff and Emily. And then, of a -sudden, it was herself she saw in the mental picture, with Jeff Delavan -at her side, standing on the wide veranda and welcoming their guests. -A smile flashed across her face and a tender light shone in her eyes. -“Oh, Jeff, Jeff!” she whispered. “I do want to be your wife!” - -She looked about her, a sweet longing in her heart. Her horse was -moving at a walk down a long, sloping hill. Her eyes followed the road -up the opposite rise and she saw a man’s figure come across the top -and start downward at a run. She wondered idly why any one should be -running like that on so hot a day. As they neared each other at the -foot of the hill she saw that he was a mulatto, very light in color, -but with negro blood nevertheless plainly manifest in skin and eyes. -The thought flashed through her mind that perhaps he was a runaway -slave and at once her heart warmed with compassion. - -He was near enough to see the expression of pity that swept across her -face and he came toward her with a half-wary, half-questioning look. - -“What is it? Can I help you?” she asked impulsively. - -“Can you tell me, Miss,--am I on the right road to Gilbertson’s--is it -much farther?” he panted. - -“About three miles, right on, along this road.” - -“Three miles!” His face fell and despair leaped into his eyes. He -glanced at the trees which thinly clothed the hillside. “Is there any -place in there where I can hide? Are there any houses--safe ones?” - -She bent toward him, looking straight into his eyes. “Are you just -running away from slavery? Have you done anything wrong?” - -He held her gaze unflinchingly as he answered: “I’ve done nothing -wrong--nothing but try to get my freedom--but that’s the worst of -crimes, south of the Ohio River.” - -“Then I’ll help you. I know where you can hide.” He assisted her to -dismount and she gathered up her long riding skirt and began to climb -the rail fence. “There’s a cave over here a little ways,” she went on. -“I haven’t been there for years, but I think I can find it. Yes, here’s -the path.” - -“We must hurry,” he cautioned. “They’re coming after me, and they’re -not far behind. If they turn off on that other road back there--I’ll be -safe--this time.” - -She led the way and they walked on rapidly through the straggling -bushes and timber. The hill was steeper here and the path sidled and -zigzagged toward its summit, for some distance in view of the road. -Halfway up the hillside it made a sharp turn around a huge boulder and -plunged into a thicker growth of shrubs and young trees. As the man, -several paces in the rear, reached this point he cast a quick glance at -the road and saw a horseman come into view across the top of the rise. - -He sprang forward, exclaiming in a shrill whisper, “Hurry! My master is -coming! I saw him cross the hill!” - -She drew her skirts higher and broke into a run. “Did he see you?” she -threw back at him, and her swift glance caught sight of a pistol in his -hand. - -“I don’t know. Show me the cave, and then you must get out of the way!” - -“You won’t shoot him?” she demanded, turning sharply round. - -“I will if I have to. I’m not going back into slavery!” was his answer -in a dogged voice. - -[Illustration: “‘You won’t shoot him?’ she demanded, turning sharply -around.”] - -They heard the neigh of a horse, over in the road, and an answering -call from Rhoda’s mare, which she had left tied to the fence. “Are we -nearly there?” asked the mulatto. - -The path sloped downward again and she sped onward, her thoughts -flashing, lightning like, across her mind. If the slaves really did not -want freedom, if they were happy and contented in slavery, why was this -man taking such desperate chances? Perhaps he was fleeing from a master -as cruel as Uncle Tom’s. She would ask him--at last she could find out -the truth from one of those who alone knew what was the truth. - -Rhoda stopped beside a thick tangle of hazel bushes that grew against -the face of a sharp rise of the hill. - -“Here it is,” she said. “Go around to the other side of this thicket -and between the bushes and the hill just a little ways in, you’ll see -the opening into the cave. It’s perfectly safe--only children ever go -there.” - -“Thank you, miss, thank you!” he breathed as he hurried past her. Then -he paused an instant and half turned toward her again. “You’d better -get out of harm’s way, quick! If Jeff Delavan did see me just now he -won’t stop till he finds me, if he has to burn the woods down to do it! -And I won’t be taken!” - -He rushed on around the thicket and did not see how she suddenly -stiffened and the color faded from her face, leaving it white to the -lips. - -“Jeff Delavan!” she repeated. “Is he your master?” - -The runaway was peering into the mouth of the cave, making sure -that the way was clear, but at the amazed tone of her question he -straightened up, threw back his head and his voice was tense with -bitterness: - -“Yes, miss, he is my owner--and also my brother!” - -“What!” Her horrified exclamation made him look at her again more -sharply and he saw a scarlet flush mounting to her brow. - -“You needn’t be surprised!” he went on hotly. “It’s common enough in -slavery. We had the same father. Good-by, miss! God bless you!” - -Still gripping his revolver he dropped behind the bushes. Rhoda, -intently listening, heard him scrambling through the mouth of the cave. -“Is it all right?” she asked softly. - -“Yes,” came the muffled reply. - -“You can put up your pistol,” she went on, and even the desperate -fugitive huddled in the darkness of the cave, the blood pounding in his -ears, was conscious of a sharp hardness in her repressed tones that had -not been there before. “I promise he shall not find you!” - -Rhoda sped back up the hill, at first conscious of little but a -whirling in her head and a weight like stone in her breast. As she -neared the highest point in the path she heard footsteps coming toward -her. Instantly her nerves seemed to steady themselves and her mind -grew clear. Holding her riding skirt with one hand she began breaking -branches from the flowering viburnum that grew thickly beneath the -trees. So Jefferson Delavan saw her as he hastily rounded the bend in -the trail beside the boulder. - -“Rhoda!” he exclaimed in joyful surprise, “you here!” In his sudden -lover’s gladness he did not notice that there was no answering surprise -in her face. He sprang toward her, but she moved back a step or two and -shifted her handful of flowering branches from the curve of her arm, -holding it between them. - -“Yes, I’m here--I--I wanted some flowers.” - -His glance darted anxiously beyond, but came back and rested upon her -tenderly. - -“Are you alone, dear? Is it safe? I thought I heard voices just now.” - -“You did,” she replied calmly. Her brain was working clearly and -rapidly now as her thoughts flashed over what she must accomplish. - -“Rhoda, you ought not to be here alone,” he went on insistently. “You -don’t know who may be wandering through these woods.” Again his glance -left her face and swept the hillside. “I am looking for a runaway now,” -he pursued. “I was sure I saw him on this path, just as he disappeared -among these bushes. Did you see him? It was only a few minutes ago.” - -“Yes, I saw him.” He stared at her, wondering what might mean the -little thrill in her tones. - -“You did? Where did he go?” - -“I shall not tell you.” - -“What do you mean, Rhoda?” - -“I mean--I know where he is--I showed him where to hide--and--I shall -not let you find him!” She had dropped her riding skirt and its -long black folds fell closely around her slender figure. He stood a -little below her on the hillside and as he looked up and saw the calm -determination on her face, amazement overspread his own. - -“Rhoda, you don’t realize what you are saying,” he expostulated. “The -fellow belongs to me--he is my slave!” - -Her face was white and stern and her eyes shining. Even so had stood -one of her foremothers, generations agone, in Salem town, facing the -charge that her daughter was a witch. She drew herself up and her lip, -that short upper lip that he could not see part from its fellow without -a thrill in his heart, curled scornfully. “He told me that he is your -brother,” came her swift reply. - -He looked at her a moment, his face flushing, before he answered, a -touch of indulgent wonder in his tone: “And you believed him? You -don’t understand how these niggers boast over--things they know -nothing about.” - -She made a little gesture, as if passing by an inconsequent matter. -“It’s of no difference. You shall not have him.” - -Intensely annoyed though he was his heart leaped toward her warmly, -as she stood there among the white viburnums, so tall and pale and -determined. That high and fearless spirit was akin to his own and -challenged his admiration. But--this would never do--she must be made -to understand. He drew a little toward her again and as she looked -down into his face and read his heart in it she felt her own stir in -response. - -“But, Rhoda,” his voice was tender and lingered over her name, “you -don’t realize what you are doing.” Unconsciously her figure relaxed -into less rigid lines and within her breast she began to feel a soft, -insidious longing. “In hiding a runaway slave you are disobeying the -law--you are guilty of a criminal act. The marshal and his men were -just behind me--they went down the other road, but are coming back. -They’ll be here soon!” - -“I shall not give him up--no matter what they do--I shall not let you -find him.” At that moment she was seeing in her mind’s eye the pistol -in the fugitive’s hands and hearing his desperate words, “I won’t be -taken!” Her eyes fell anxiously upon her lover. - -They heard the clatter of galloping horses on the road. “That’s the -marshal!” he exclaimed. “Rhoda, you must not let them find you here, -hiding a runaway nigger. I could not hinder your arrest. They will take -you to prison!” - -She bent toward him, smiling gently. “Jeff”--she began and an undertone -of sweetness ran through her voice that made his pulses leap--“are you -going to let them--find me here?” - -For an instant he seemed about to leap forward and take her in his -arms. Then his body sagged, he drew back and the protest of a strong -man whose determination has been bewitched away from him was in his -voice: - -“Rhoda, you are taking advantage of my love!” - -The smile that for him was always adorable broke like a sudden -illumination over her face, shining even in her serious eyes and -melting her mouth, just now stern and scornful, into tender, alluring -curves. “Of course I am!” she agreed, and added, as she glanced down -demurely and up again into his face, “And aren’t you going to let me?” - -A shout came through the woods from the road: “Delavan! Are you there? -Have you found him?” - -Jefferson Delavan searched for an instant in his breast pocket as he -called back: “No,--I’m coming--wait for me--I’ll be there in a minute!” - -He took out an old envelope and hurriedly wrote a few lines on the -back. “There,” he said as he handed it to Rhoda, “is proof of my love. -I’ll send you the legal papers to-night.” - -He lifted his hat, bowed, and sprang down the path. A moment later she -heard him saying, rather loudly, to the men at the fence, “No, we’ve -missed him somewhere. A lady is in there gathering flowers and if he -had gone this way she would have seen him. Come, let’s hurry back.” - -She listened to the sound of their horses’ hoofs clattering up the hill -and as it died away in the distance she swayed against the tree beside -her and dropped her head into her hands. - - - - -CHAPTER VII - - -Through all the afternoon Rhoda stayed in her room, thinking over her -adventure of the morning and considering whether it would be to her -mother or her father that she would tell the whole story. Of one thing -she felt sure--that she could not marry Jefferson Delavan, that she -could not be the wife of a man who believed in slavery and held slaves. -To that decision had she come swiftly, after her doubts and longings -and vacillations of the last week, while she listened to the departing -hoofbeats of the marshal’s party, going away without the fugitive. To -both, of course, she would make known this determination, and to her -father she would tell the incident about the negro. But she wanted -to pour forth the whole affair to some one who would understand and -sympathize and be tender with her because of the ache in her heart. - -Her mother would be sorely disappointed by her final decision and -shocked and grieved, if told of it, by what she had done that morning -and would be able to see in the whole affair and in the conclusion -to which she had come nothing but wrong-headedness and fanaticism. -Rhoda knew that she could depend upon her loving heart and motherly -tenderness and longed for her caressing arms and her soothing voice. -But she knew also that Mrs. Ware could never understand why, if she -loved Jefferson Delavan, she would not marry him, and she winced at -the thought of what a blow to her mother her refusal would be. Her -father would know just how she felt about it; he would understand and -appreciate the convictions that had impelled her and he would be deeply -pleased. She knew just the light of satisfaction that would flash into -his eye. But he would not sympathize or be tender with her unhappiness. -A touch of bitterness tinged her feeling as she thought how different -it would be were Charlotte to go to him with a breaking heart. - -Ever since her childhood had Rhoda stood thus wistfully between her -parents. Between her father and herself there was always intellectual -understanding. Their minds worked alike and they saw things in the same -way, just as in facial and bodily appearance there was much resemblance -between them. But it seemed to Rhoda that this very physical and -mental likeness had caused him to hold her at a distance. Even as a -little girl he had never welcomed her affectionate advances as he had -Charlotte’s. She, on the other hand, had always been drawn to him more -than to her mother, and she could still remember many a time when, a -little thing in pantalettes and short dresses, she had slipped away -with a trembling lip and hidden herself to fight back the tears which -would come because he had taken Charlotte up in his arms and kissed her -and had ignored Charlotte’s elder sister. As she grew older they had -become good friends and she knew that he liked to make a companion of -her and that he talked with her much more freely than with Charlotte. -But between them there was never any expression of sentiment. - -And now her aching heart was longing for understanding, sympathy, -tenderness, love, all from one source, without having to make -revelation of itself. What she really wanted, although she was not -well enough versed in self-analysis to know it, was something that -would take the place of the love she was casting aside,--or, more -accurately, that love itself. She came near enough to such knowledge to -say to herself, in the midst of her unhappiness, “Jeff would understand -and--and be sorry, if I could only tell him all about it!” And then -she smiled, seeing the absurdity of the idea. But notwithstanding -her little flash of amusement at herself she felt vaguely, in the -background of her woe-filled consciousness, that only the supreme love -between man and woman can carry that full measure of comprehension, -sympathy, tolerance and affection for which human nature forever yearns. - -Finally it was to her father she went, when he returned in the late -afternoon. - -“I know you’re tired, father,” she hesitated at the door of his office -as she saw him stretched, coatless, upon the lounge, “but I’d like to -see you a little while--and it’s important.” - -“Come in, Rhoda. What is it? The Mallard child? Not getting worse, is -it?” - -“No. It’s--it’s about me. I’ve made up my mind to-day, father, that I -won’t marry Mr. Delavan.” - -He sat up and across his face and into his eyes leaped the expression -of pleased satisfaction that she had known would shine there at her -news. But all he said was: - -“You’ve decided wisely, I think.” Nevertheless, his professional eye -had already noted the signs still lingering in her countenance of her -afternoon’s vigil alone with her heart, and if she could have known -what compassion and tenderness stirred in his breast she would have -been surprised and comforted. - -“But that’s not all, father--such a queer thing happened as I was -coming home,” she hurried on, trying hard to speak in a matter-of-fact -tone. Long ago, in her early girlhood, when she had first discovered in -her father an inclination to make a companion of her, in her pride and -eagerness to be felt worthy of such honor she had unconsciously begun -to imitate toward him his own unemotional manner toward her. And the -habit had grown upon her of thinking that in his presence she must -repress any show of feeling. - -She told him in detail how she met the runaway slave, how she secreted -him in the cave and then encountered Jefferson Delavan. But she glossed -over this part of the incident, saying only: - -“And I told him at once I had hidden the man and that I would not give -him up, no matter what the marshal might do, and when the men came and -called to him from the road he answered that the slave wasn’t there and -wrote quickly on an old envelope an agreement to give the nigger his -freedom. He said he’d send the legal papers to me to-night and then he -took the others away, so that they didn’t see me at all.” - -She ceased speaking abruptly and silence fell upon them. Dr. Ware was -gazing fixedly at her as he searched the meager words of her recital, -trying to find in them some revelation of what really had passed -between the two lovers. He felt that there must have been some brief -but determined conflict of wills for the possession of the slave, and -he guessed that Rhoda had won by feminine wile of love. The episode -drove in upon him the unwelcome conviction that the feeling between -them, notwithstanding the shortness of their acquaintance, must be deep -and genuine. But he remembered how suddenly and irrevocably he himself -had fallen in love in the days of his young manhood and, recalling -certain indications of character in Jeff Delavan’s countenance, he -thought uneasily, “I wonder if he’ll take ‘no’ for an answer, after -all.” He came back to her story. - -“Did you give the agreement to the nigger?” - -“Yes. After they were gone quite out of hearing I went back to the cave -and gave it to him and told him to go on to Gilbertson’s and wait there -for the legal papers.” - -“Good! That was the best arrangement to make! If Delavan sends them as -he promised I’ll take them out to-morrow, when I go to Mallard’s.” - -“And then he’ll be quite free, and out of all danger?” - -“Theoretically, yes, as long as he doesn’t lose his emancipation -papers. But if he is wise he will get out of this free country of -ours”--a cynical bitterness sounded in his voice--“and go on to Canada, -where there’ll be no danger of his being kidnaped and taken back into -slavery.” - -Rhoda mused for a moment “Father!” she exclaimed suddenly, and in both -voice and manner he was aware of some new feeling and access of energy -that seemed full of significance. “What do you think? Is this awful -thing always going to divide the North from the South? Are we always -going to hate each other like this? Is there any help for it?” - -“I don’t know, Rhoda. Sometimes, when I see how the North is forever -knuckling under to the South, giving up political supremacy and -getting more and more craven every year, I pretty nearly lose all hope. -I’m convinced that there’s only one way out of it--we’ve got to fight. -And when we do fight the North will win, because we’ve got more men and -more money. The sooner it comes the better, and I’m glad to see every -new insult the South piles on us, for if we’ve got any spirit at all up -here we’ve got to resent it some day.” - -Rhoda looked at him with intent eyes. His tall, angular figure was -full of energy, his eyes sparkled and in his face shone the liveliest -conviction. - -“War, father! That would be so horrible!” - -“Yes, of course it would. But it would end the business. And slavery is -one long, unending horror.” - -“Yes, that is just what it is,” she assented earnestly. “It is too -horrible to think of!” - -Again he gazed at her sharply, wondering through what upheaval of -emotion she had gone that morning that had landed her so suddenly just -where he wished her to stand, when he had begun to fear that her face -would be turned the other way. “That nigger this morning,” she went on -hurriedly, “he was a mulatto, said that he--he--was Jeff’s brother! -Only think of it, father! What sort of an effect can slavery have upon -a man to make him willing to hold his brother as a slave, a beast to -be bought and sold! It’s too horrible!” - -Dr. Ware began to understand. Her lover had fallen from her ideal -of him and she was casting the blame not upon him but back upon the -institution for which he stood. It was significant of the complexity -of his nature that, as he looked upon her pale face, shining eyes and -curling lip, something akin to compassion for the absent lover stirred -within him, notwithstanding the bitterness of his own feeling against -slavery and all it meant. - -“Such things happen down south. I’ve known some instances that were -certainly true. But it’s possible that sometimes the niggers boast when -they have no right to. As long as you have only the runaway’s word for -it, Delavan ought to have the benefit of the doubt. The Lord knows he, -or any slaveholder, has enough to answer for, anyway.” - -Rhoda scarcely seemed to hear him. She sat silent for a moment and the -animation faded from her face. “The man had a pistol,” she presently -went on “and if Jeff--if Mr. Delavan--had found him I’m sure he would -have shot--to kill, rather than be taken. He said he would.” - -Her father bent upon her a puzzled look. Here was still another factor -in the motives, or the impulses, which had moved her to action. How -much had she been impelled by desire to save her lover from harm and -how much by the determination to help the slave to liberty? He wished -he knew, so that he might judge just how deeply and how permanently -her renewed abhorrence of slavery had taken root. He knew that if she -went into the Underground work he could depend upon her to be loyal, -capable and discreet, but he drew back from asking her to take part in -it unless she could do so whole-heartedly with conviction as intense as -his own. - -“Perhaps, then, you saved his life,” he said quietly, and then went on -with a deeper significance in his tone, “as well as got for the slave -his freedom, which is more than life to him.” - -“Father, I want to do something!” she broke out suddenly. “Is there -anything a girl can do? I know now that I can’t marry Mr. Delavan--I--I -love him--and if he wasn’t a slaveholder I’d be glad to be his -wife--and I know I’d be happy. But I couldn’t--I just couldn’t feel -myself responsible the least bit for those poor creatures being slaves. -It’s wrong, father, it’s all wrong, and horrible, and I won’t have -anything to do with it. I tried to think I could, for a while, because -I love Jeff so much and I wanted so to be his wife. But this awful -slavery would be between us all the time--and I hate it, father, I hate -it as much as you do, and I want to do something to help put it down!” - -He looked at her with surprise, triumphant rejoicing in his heart. -This was a different Rhoda from any he had known. She sat still and -spoke quietly, but he saw that her hands were clenched and in her low -voice vibrated passionate earnestness. - -The black face of the housemaid appeared at the door. “What is it, -Lizzie?” he questioned. - -“A letter, sah, a big, fat letter, fo’ Miss Rhoda. A boy brought it, -jess now.” - -Rhoda tore open the envelope, curiosity getting the better, for a -moment, of the feeling that had just burst through all her usual -barriers of restraint. “It’s the papers freeing that slave!” she cried. -“It was good of Jeff to do this, wasn’t it, father?” - -Together they glanced through the document. “I’m so glad I held out,” -she exclaimed. “How happy that poor man will be when he sees this!” - -“You see, Rhoda, you’ve done something already!” - -“Yes, and I want to do more. Father, you do something--I don’t know -what--but I know you work as well as talk. Can’t I help?” - -She had never seen him look at her with such pride and gratification. -Her heart leaped in response and she flushed with gladness. - -“Yes, Rhoda, you can--I need your help. For years I’ve given to the -anti-slavery cause all I could afford in money--mainly for the work -of the Underground Railroad. But I couldn’t do much in any other way -because your mother’s sympathies are with the South. Now the time has -come when they need my help as an actual worker. You know Jim Conners’ -house, not far from the steamboat landing. For a long time that has -been the first station on the Underground Road, for all the slaves who -get across the river in this vicinity. But Conners is going to Kansas -soon and, besides, he is under such suspicion and the slave hunters are -watching his place so closely that it’s no longer safe. Why, this man,” -and he tapped the document, “was nearly caught there this morning. -He got away by the skin of his teeth, in a dress and bonnet of Mrs. -Conners’, and the marshal and his men had been close at his heels all -the morning, when you came to his rescue!” - -“Then you knew about him already!” - -“Yes. That is, I knew of his narrow escape this morning, and knew he -belonged to Delavan. Well, you see, there’s got to be a new refuge -provided for them here in town, not too far from the river. For many -reasons our house is the best place possible. If you help me I think -I can manage it, with the aid of Jim and Lizzie, and your mother and -Charlotte need know nothing about it.” - -“I’ll be glad to help you, father, glad to do anything I can, and it -will be fine to know that we’re getting even a few poor creatures out -of slavery. But, father, will it ever really amount to anything?” She -looked up at him anxiously. “Will it ever help to tear out the whole -wicked system?” - -He glanced at her with approval. “I’m glad you take that view of -it, Rhoda. I’ll answer your question in a minute. By means of the -Underground Road many thousands of slaves have been enabled to throw -away their chains. Levi Coffin, in Cincinnati--you remember we were -at their house--has been engaged in this work for years and himself -has sent nearly three thousand runaways on to Canada and freedom. The -southerners hate him bitterly and because of his activity they call -him ‘President of the Underground Road.’ There is no president, no -organization of any sort, nothing but coöperation between those who -live near together. I speak of it to show you how the work angers the -slaveholders. They got the Fugitive Slave Law passed six years ago to -try to stop it, and they are furious because it has since flourished -more than ever. - -“Now, I’m coming to the point. As I told you just now, I believe that -nothing but war can solve this problem. It doesn’t matter which side -begins it, just so the fight comes. If the North won’t do it because of -the South’s insults, then we must make the South strike the first blow. -She must be irritated to the limit of endurance, and this Underground -work seems to me the most efficient way of doing it. That’s chiefly why -I’m in it, Rhoda. It’s something, of course, to help individual slaves -on to liberty, but I’m looking for the big result. And I’ll be very -glad to have your help, so that I can begin to do something a little -more worth while. I’ve been waiting anxiously for you to make up your -mind about young Delavan, for the situation here is important.” - -She looked at him with wide eyes, her breath coming fast. “And you -never said a word to me about it!” - -He got up and took a turn or two across the room. “Of course not. It -was necessary for you to fight the question out for yourself.” - -They heard Mrs. Ware’s voice on the veranda, softly calling Rhoda. The -girl rose and started toward the door, but stopped beside him. - -“I’ll help you, father.” Her head was held high, her figure was erect -and her young countenance was almost solemn in its earnestness. Half -consciously she put out her hand. Instantly her father gripped it and -they stood like two men pledging faith. It was the nearest they had -ever come to mutual expression of sentiment. Again they heard Mrs. -Ware’s voice, nearing the door, and Rhoda, calling out, “I’m coming, -mother,” dropped her father’s hand and rushed from the room before -self-consciousness had time to mar their moment of high resolve and -close communion. - -Dr. Ware gazed after her thoughtfully as he sank into his desk chair. -“Heredity was bound to tell, sooner or later,” he said to himself, -“and she’s got her full share of the New England conscience. How that -Puritan conscience does flourish in the blood of us New Englanders, -wherever we go! In its original form I reckon it was too strong a dose -for the best results--a saturated solution, it was then. But now it’s -diluted enough to be a first-rate general preservative of morals.” - -Mrs. Ware drew Rhoda to her side with an arm about her waist. “Jeff is -here,” she whispered. “He’s waiting for you on the front veranda. Go -up to your room by the back stairs, honey, and put on your pink dress. -It’s very becoming.” - -When presently Rhoda came slowly downstairs again and through the hall -to the front door she heard her mother saying to Jefferson Delavan, on -the veranda: - -“Rhoda has some absurd, fanatical ideas about slavery that she has got -from her father, Jeff, but I think you can hope for the answer you -want. And you know, my dear boy, how much I want you to have it! I -talked with her this morning--oh, here she is now. Come, Rhoda, dear! -Jeff is waiting for you.” - -She passed into the house as Rhoda stepped out, grave and hesitant and -gave him her hand. He held it in his while his eyes studied her face -with anxious inquiry. - -“Come,” he said, and led her down the steps and into the path to the -grape arbor. She looked pale and a little weary, but her serious gray -eyes were very bright and in her face still lingered a touch of the -exalted mood in which she had left her father. She tried to withdraw -her hand from his but he would not let it go, and after a moment she -submitted to the firm clasp in which it was held. Once she lifted her -eyes to his, but at once turned shyly away, as if she could not endure -the look of love and yearning she saw in them. - -“Rhoda, you are like a wild rose, in that gown, the sweetest of all -roses.” He plucked a red rose, the last one, from a bush they were -passing, touched it to his lips and handed it to her. “Last week,” he -said, “you gave me a rose for my thoughts. Will you take this one for -yours?” - -“Yes,” she answered gravely, “yes, I will tell you--I must be very -frank with you.” - -They went into the arbor, where she sat down on the bench and he stood -before her, just as they had done in the moonlight on that evening -that seemed now so long ago. The sun, drooping low, sent level shafts -of yellow light through the foliage, which glowed darkly against the -western brilliance. They fell upon her fair hair and made round her -head a sort of aureole. Out of this background her pale face and -shining eyes, still illumined by the high thoughts which had lately -filled her mind, looked up to meet the adoration which beamed in his -countenance. Unconsciously the love-light leaped into her own eyes in -quick response, and for an instant they gazed deep into each other’s -hearts. Then he bent toward her with outstretched arms. - -“Rhoda!” he whispered. “You love me!” - -As if suddenly roused from a dream she drew back, and with one hand -warded him away. “I can’t marry you, Jeff, I can’t marry you!” she -exclaimed in hurried tones. - -“But you love me, Rhoda,--I saw it in your eyes! Don’t say you don’t!” - -She straightened up and, watching her eagerly, he saw the effort with -which she regained her self-control. “Listen, Jeff. Sit down here on -the bench beside me, and I’ll try to tell you how it is. I--I do love -you--no, don’t take my hand--don’t touch me--I’ve loved you all the -time. When you went away, last week, I knew I was going to tell you -‘yes,’ sometime, but I just wanted to make you wait a while--” She -flashed her sudden, irradiating smile upon him and he started forward -and seized her hand. She drew it away and went on hastily: - -“But I hadn’t thought then--I knew it of course, but I hadn’t thought -of it--I hadn’t thought of anything but just you--about your owning -slaves and believing in slavery. And ever since I remembered it I’ve -been trying and trying to convince myself that I wouldn’t mind, that I -could make it seem right--but it’s no use, Jeff. I can’t do it.” - -He looked at her, puzzled, vainly trying to understand her point of -view. “But, Rhoda, I can’t see what difference that makes. If you love -me and I love you--and heaven knows I do, dear heart--I can’t see why a -matter of opinion should keep us apart. Look at your father and mother. -He is violently opposed to slavery and she still believes in it, and -yet they loved and were married and have lived happily together. Why -can’t we do the same?” - -“But this is different. Mother just gave up things she liked and the -kind of life she enjoyed. I could do that--oh, I’d love to do that, -for you--for any one I loved. But she didn’t have to become part of -something that she thought was wrong. I can’t marry you, Jeff, because -I know that slavery is wrong, wicked, horrible, and I simply couldn’t -endure being part of it and having to uphold it.” - -He rose and walked back and forth in front of her. “This is your -father’s influence,” he said resentfully. “He told me that he would use -it against me.” - -“No, you must not blame father,” she responded quickly. “He has said -very little to me about it, and he told me that it was something I -must settle with my own conscience. And mother has said everything she -could think of to persuade me. I’ve worked it out myself, and I know -that I can’t marry you--but, oh, Jeff! I want to be your wife more than -anything in the world!” - -It was almost a glare with which he surveyed her as she uttered her -last words. His hands, hanging at his sides, were clinched. “Rhoda, -this is fanaticism gone mad!” he exclaimed. - -She rose and stood before him. “You will have to call it whatever it -seems to you. To me it is the command of my conscience, and I’ve got to -obey it.” - -“Did that--incident--this morning have anything to do with your -decision?” he demanded. - -“Something, perhaps--no, I am sure I should have seen things as I do -now, anyway, after a little. That only made me see the truth more -quickly and more clearly.” - -“The truth?” he queried. “You mean--” - -“I mean, it made me see that I could never regard slavery as anything -but wrong and monstrous and criminal and that I could never, never make -myself a party to it.” - -“But, Rhoda, this is absurd. You’ve never lived in the South and you -don’t know anything about it. You don’t know how necessary it is for us -down there and how well it works out!” - -“I don’t have to live there to know that it is a wicked thing to buy -and sell human beings as though they were horses or pigs. But it’s no -use to argue about it, Jeff. You believe in it and I don’t--I hate it, -I hate it! And I wish I could tear it down, myself, and destroy it -forever!” - -Her head was high, her eyes glowing and her voice, low almost as a -whisper, thrilled with passionate conviction. His eyes yearned over -her for a moment and then, “Rhoda! Rhoda Ware!” he exclaimed. “You must -be mine! I shall not give you up because of this foolish notion of -yours!” - -She drew back and as she spoke she made evident but unavailing effort -to keep all feeling out of her voice. “It’s no use for us to talk any -more about it, Jeff. My mind is made up, and I’ve told you I can’t -marry you. It only makes us the more unhappy to keep on talking about -it. I think we’d better consider that it’s ended now, for good.” - -“No!” he exclaimed. “It isn’t ended! As long as you love me I’ll not -give you up! I’ll go now, but some day I’m coming back, and I’ll win -you yet, Rhoda Ware!” He seized her hand in both of his and held it -against his heart. Taken aback by his sudden outburst she did not try -to withdraw it, but let him press his lips twice and thrice upon it. -Then, without another word, he strode out of the arbor, down the path, -and was gone. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - - -Dr. Ware noiselessly closed the door of his wife’s bedroom and walked -softly downstairs. “Can we have supper at once, Rhoda?” he inquired of -his daughter at the door of the dining-room. “Good! I’m called over to -the other side of town and I want to get away as quickly as possible. -It’s likely I’ll have to stay most of the night--maybe until morning. -Are you intending to go to the party to-night?” - -“I was, father, but if you’re going to be away I’d better stay with -mother. How is she to-night?” - -“It’s the worst attack of sick headache she’s had in a long time. But I -hope she will soon be able to go to sleep, and if she sleeps well all -night she will be much better to-morrow. She doesn’t want anything now, -but you might look in very quietly after a little and see if she is -asleep. Do you mind missing the party?” - -“No, not at all, father. But Charlotte--” she looked uncertainly across -the table at her sister. “Do you think Charlotte better go without me?” - -“Of course you do, don’t you, father?” Charlotte promptly interrupted, -with a coquettish look at Dr. Ware, to which he responded with a fond -smile. “Isn’t Horace Hardaker a good enough chaperon for anybody?” she -went on. - -“Horace Hardaker!” her father exclaimed in surprise. “What’s become of -Billy Saunders? Have you quarreled?” - -“No--he hasn’t. He was impertinent this afternoon--wanted to kiss me, -and I told him he shouldn’t speak to me for a month. So I asked Rhoda -if I couldn’t go with her and Horace.” - -Dr. Ware laughed indulgently. “Horace will take good care of her, -Rhoda. It’s all right for her to go with him. But I’m surprised, -Charlotte,” he went on, frowning at her with mock seriousness, “that a -young lady of your convictions should be willing to go to a party with -a Black Abolitionist!” - -“Aren’t you afraid to let him go with me, father?” she mocked in reply, -her eyes dancing. “Suppose I should convert him to slavery before we -get back, and make him promise to vote for Buchanan!” - -“You minx!” he said fondly, as he stopped to give her hair a rumpling -caress. Then with altered manner he turned to Rhoda with some -directions for her mother’s comfort and messages for certain patients -if they should call during the evening. - -The making of Charlotte’s toilette, at which Rhoda assisted, was -enlivened by much gaiety of spirit on the part of the younger sister. -Charlotte had put aside the teasing humor in which she so often -indulged and was more affectionate than usual. Rhoda warmed to her -in response and was delightedly absorbed in helping to deck her for -the evening’s merrymaking. They laughed softly together at her little -flashes of fun, which were so frequent that finally Rhoda exclaimed, -smiling down upon her fondly: “You’re hatching up some mischief, -sister, aren’t you?” - -Charlotte giggled. “Oh, I’m just thinking how I’ll punish Billy -Saunders!” - -“And make him want to kiss you more than ever!” warned Rhoda gaily. - -“He shan’t, all the same!” Charlotte laughed over her shoulder as she -tilted out of the room. - -From the veranda steps Rhoda bade Charlotte and Horace Hardaker -good-night, and as they passed down the broad front walk between the -lilac hedges called out gay nothings after them and laughed at her -sister’s saucy rejoinders. When they disappeared down the street -she went back into the house, softly humming to herself, for the -merriment still stirred in her heart. She peeped into her mother’s -bedroom and smiled with gratification as she saw that the invalid was -at last sleeping soundly. Then she made a trip to the kitchen to give -Lizzie directions concerning breakfast and afterward sat down in the -living-room for a quiet hour or two of reading. - -It was in the early days of October, and the presidential campaign -of 1856 was at its height. Mighty waves of political enthusiasm -were sweeping the country and stirring it to its depths, as it had -never before been stirred. The youthful Republican party was already -showing a marvelous growth. From the South were coming open threats of -secession in case Frémont should be elected. - -Rhoda was intensely interested and under the guidance of her father was -eagerly following the progress of the campaign. She sat down now with a -little pile of its literature on the table beside her and took up first -a pamphlet containing George William Curtis’s oration on “The Duty of -the American Scholar to Politics and the Times.” The quiet, intense -conviction which glowed through its polished phrases set her pulses to -throbbing. She read it through rapidly once, then went back and studied -carefully the arguments, breathing high aspirations and noble ideals, -by which he advanced to the conclusion that the prime duty of the -scholar in that crisis was to work to his utmost for the election of -Frémont. - -She knew that the oration was being read by scores upon scores of -thousands, for her father had told her of its enormous circulation -and of its effect upon thinking people throughout the North. Her hand -trembled as she laid it down and went out upon the veranda. She tried -to form in her mind some idea of all those masses of people moved as -she was feeling herself moved at that moment by the orator’s inspiring -sentences and stirred as she was stirred by the desire to go forth as -to a crusade and with mind and heart and hand work for the success of -the party that would put an end to the extension of slavery. - -“Oh, he will surely be elected--he must be elected!” she whispered, -nervously clasping her hands. Then she wondered, if Frémont should be -successful, would there follow secession and war--the war which her -father believed to be the only means for the cutting of the Gordian -knot into which North and South had tangled themselves. And then came -quickly apprehensive thought of that ardent and determined lover, on -the other side of the fateful river. She shivered a little and told -herself that the nights were already growing much cooler. Presently she -would go upstairs, she thought, and, perhaps, she would read again the -letter that had come two days before from Jefferson Delavan. - -She went back to her reading and looked through some recent newspapers. -In the New York “Times” she read an account of a great meeting in Wall -Street, where, from the steps of the Merchants’ Exchange, Speaker -Banks, of the House of Representatives, had addressed a mighty -assemblage of twenty thousand earnest men. In Pittsburg had been held a -monster mass-meeting of a hundred thousand. Everywhere there had been -meetings, speeches, torchlight processions, bands, cheers, enthusiasm. - -Rhoda had herself joined in that staccato cry of the campaign, “Free -speech, free soil and Frémont!” only a few nights before when she -and Marcia Kimball and Mrs. Hardaker and others of her friends had -leaned from the windows of Horace Hardaker’s office and with waving -handkerchiefs and responding cheers had added to the enthusiasm of the -Republican procession sweeping down the street. Her father, heading -one division and Horace leading another, had saluted them with waving -torches and louder cheers. Her mother and sister had stayed at home -that night and neither of them, by word or look, had shown afterwards -that they knew a torchlight procession had taken place. But when the -Democrats had had their meeting and procession a week earlier Mrs. Ware -and Charlotte had gone under the escort of Billy Saunders. - -With close attention she read too of the great meetings that were being -held all over the North, and the money that was being donated by rich -and poor alike in aid of the free-soil settlers in Kansas. Recently she -had had a long letter from Julia Hammerton, Horace’s sister, giving -intimate account of the perilous times through which they were passing -and of the riot and pillage and bloodshed which ravished the border. -Her anxiety for her friend doubled the interest with which she perused -the reports from Lawrence and Topeka. She exclaimed with horror every -now and then, and at last with head bowed upon her clasped hands she -whispered: “Oh, God in heaven, grant the election of Frémont, and stop -all this, I pray, I pray!” - -[Illustration: “Inside were a withered rose and a letter.”] - -She sat musing for a while upon what she had read, but her thoughts -would wander to the grapevine arbor, and again and again across the -ardent longings for the success of the Republican cause which filled -her mind would come the image of Jefferson Delavan as he held her hand -to his heart and declared, “I shall win you yet, Rhoda Ware!” - -A deep flush dyed her cheeks and muttering, “Dear God, forgive me, that -I cannot help thinking of him even at such a time!” she rose and folded -the papers. Then she carefully put them away in her father’s office; -for Charlotte did not hesitate, if she came across such publications in -any other part of the house and happened to be in an audacious mood, to -put them with laughing defiance into the fire. - -In her room she moved about restlessly, going now and again toward her -bureau, then turning away. At last she opened one of the drawers and -from one corner hidden away under ribbons and handkerchiefs, took a -small box tied with a white ribbon. For some moments she clasped it -tenderly in both hands, her eyes fixed on the floor. Then, as she sank -into a chair, the barriers of her will gave way and with trembling -fingers she took off the cover. - -Inside were a withered rose and a letter. She kissed the rose and -caressed it in her palm and held it against her cheek--had not he -held it to his lips that day in the arbor when she told him she would -not marry him? Then she unfolded the letter and read again its brief -sentences. Already she knew them, every word, for in the two days since -she received it her traitor heart had sent her, against her will, to -read it many times. It was dated in Cincinnati, where, he said, he -was likely to remain several days more, but before returning home he -intended to go on up the river to Hillside, where he hoped to have the -pleasure of calling again upon Mrs. Ware and herself. It was written in -courteous, formal phrase, and Rhoda’s eyes studied the lines as though -searching for some hidden expression of the love that she knew was -behind them. - -“Ought I to write and tell him he’d better not come?” she asked -herself, as she had done a dozen times already, but still unable to -decide that she would request him not to make the visit. Her heart was -longing to see him again, but what she said to herself was, “It would -be a disappointment to mother if he should not come.” - -Oh, traitor heart, that with its insidious desires undermines the -defenses of the will and levels to the dust the walls of human -determination! If wishfulness stand within the gate when temptation -knocks outside it is only the sternest “no,” to both of them, over -and over again, resolute and unchanging and giving way not so much -as a hair’s breadth, that can save the day. If man’s desires always -squared with his knowledge of the right perhaps the world would be a -cleaner and a sweeter place to live in. But it would lack the inspiring -savor of that grim struggle between them, as old as the race, by which -humankind has mounted a few of the steps toward heaven. Man’s inability -to say “no” to himself, stoutly and often, is responsible for more -of his ills than is all “man’s inhumanity to man.” And to dally with -desire, to argue with the traitor within the gates, to listen for a -moment to his specious pleading, is to make it ever harder and harder -to utter the one blunt word that alone brings peace. - -Doubtless Rhoda did not know, for she was not much given to -introspection, that if she did not come to quick and sharp conclusions -with the insurgent within her own breast she was but lengthening the -conflict and making it the more difficult to stand to the line she had -set. She was quite sure of her determination that she would not marry -Jefferson Delavan and she would have been amazed and incredulous had -any one told her that even by this yielding to her love in the privacy -of her own room and debating with herself as to whether or not she -should see him again she was throwing doubt upon the issue. - -So she sat there fondling the withered rose, which his lips had -touched, and the letter, which his hand had written, and thinking -that it would do no harm if he should come again, for they would meet -hereafter merely as friends. Surely they were both strong enough to -be just good friends, and to keep hidden whatever might be in their -hearts. They were so congenial, they enjoyed each other’s society so -much, why shouldn’t they have the pleasure of meeting now and then? -And her mother was so fond of him, it really would not be fair to -her to tell him that he must not visit them. Yes, it would surely be -for the best, and to-morrow she would ask her mother to write and -say they would be glad to see him whenever he should come. Her heart -gave a little bound at this victory and her lips unconsciously formed -themselves into the tenderest of smiling curves as she pressed them -upon the withered rose. Then she put the box carefully away, blew out -her candle and knelt beside the open window. - -Her room was in the southeast corner of the house, and the moon, -dwindling past its half, bounded up from behind the wooded hills and -saw upon her face the same tender look of smiling happiness. Presently, -upon the still night air came the faint sound of cautious footsteps. -She turned her eyes, that had been brooding upon the star-filled sky -while her spirit wandered in dream-filled Elysian fields, downward to -the earth. She could dimly make out a woman’s figure coming up the -middle of the street. - -A lantern hung on one of the posts of the east gate, beside her -father’s sign. But it had now a double purpose. Rhoda watched as the -figure came slowly on, stopped at the gate, glanced warily about, and -seemed to read the sign, “Dr. Amos M. Ware.” By the dim light she -could see that the woman’s face was dark and that she held a child by -the hand. Instantly the girl’s spirit was upon the earth again. With -noiseless feet she rushed downstairs, through her father’s office, and -out upon the veranda. The wanderer was climbing the steps and looking -doubtfully about, as if uncertain what she ought to do next. - -“You’re in the right place,” said Rhoda assuringly, speaking barely -above a whisper. “I am your friend--come in.” - -She hurried the woman into the office, pulled down the shades and -lighted a candle. Then she saw that the fugitive, besides the child, -perhaps four or five years old, which she led by the hand, carried a -baby underneath her shawl. The girl drew a swift breath that was almost -a sob. - -“Oh!” she exclaimed, running to the woman and putting her two hands -gently upon her shoulders, “Oh, you poor thing! You poor thing!” - -The room occupied by Jim and Lizzie, the two colored servants, was -next to the office, at the northeast corner of the house. Darting out -on the veranda again, Rhoda ran to their window and rapped gently four -times. In a few moments Jim opened the door. - -“Tell Lizzie to get up,” she whispered. “A poor woman with two children -is here. I’ve got them in the office now, but you’d better let me bring -them into your room as quickly as possible. They must have some supper -and a little rest, and then we’ll decide what’s best to do.” - -Lizzie’s face appeared above Jim’s shoulder. “All right, Miss Rhoda,” -she was saying in subdued but hearty accents, “you all kin come right -in--in two minutes.” - -The runaways were soon eating a supper of cold meat and bread and milk, -which Lizzie hurried into the room. Rhoda nodded and smiled at her and -her husband. - -“Now,” she said coaxingly, “you and Jim will let them have your bed a -little while, won’t you? Jim can go in the office and lie down on the -lounge. They must have some rest, for they ought to go on to-night. -It wouldn’t be safe to try to keep them here to-morrow, for Charlotte -would be sure to discover the children. Father is not likely to get -back before morning--so I’ll drive them on to Gilbertson’s. No, it’s -all right”--as Jim made a movement of protest. “Dolly is in the -stable--you can hitch her to the two-seated carriage. I’m not the -least bit afraid, and it will be much safer for me than you. Charlotte -will be home soon. We’d better not do anything more until after she -gets in and goes to sleep. But we ought to start in about three hours. -Have the carriage ready, Jim, and I’ll be down. Now, you poor thing, -you and these babies must lie down and get some sleep.” - -When they were ready to start, Rhoda put the child, still asleep, into -a nest of rugs on the carriage floor. The woman, with the baby hugged -to her breast, she took on the front seat. “If we should happen to -meet any one,” she said, “they’d take less notice if we were sitting -together sociably like this. If you see father when he comes home, Jim, -tell him where I’ve gone. And, Lizzie, you’ll be sure to look out for -mother as soon as she wakens in the morning, won’t you? If she asks for -me tell her I’ve gone on an errand for father.” - -The street, going on northward, passed a few more houses and then -became a country road. The Ware house stood on the top of a long, -gentle rise from the river. From the summit the road dipped down into a -shallow valley, then mounted another longer and steeper ascent, whence -it passed into a region partly wooded and partly filled with farms. - -They drove on without speaking until they had passed the last of -the houses. Rhoda’s thoughts were busy with the woman beside her, -wondering what awful pressure of desperation had sent her, with these -little ones clinging to her hands, upon the perilous road toward -freedom. The fugitive was a good-looking young mulatto, not much older -than herself. In her speech and manner Rhoda had already noted the -lack of a certain suppressed fire which she had seen in some of the -refugees, and especially in the slave whose emancipation papers she had -won from Jefferson Delavan. In this one there was instead a patient, -pleading resignation which seemed to her eloquent of the wrongs of the -helpless race. It appealed to her from the big, mournful eyes of the -child when, mutely trustful, he let her take him from his mother’s arm -and lay him upon the bed. It was tugging mightily at her heartstrings -as they drove down the dim road, her eyes on the faint track that -gradually opened out of the darkness. Her heart was all one sweet -compassion and brooding tenderness. But she did not speak until they -were well past the last house of the town and beyond chance of any -wakeful ear. - -“Have you come very far? Has it been hard?” she asked in subdued tones. - -“Yes, miss, it’s seemed a long way.” The woman used good English, and -her gentle manner showed that she must have been well trained. “But I -reckon it wasn’t really so far. It’s just a week ago to-night that I -took out. We’ve had to hide in the daytime and walk at night, mostly. -Once a man met us and hid us in a wagon under some hay and took us -right far. Sometimes I had to carry both the children and then I -couldn’t come so fast. Andy was right good for such a little fellow. -He’d run most all the time. I told him we were going to see his pappy -and he’s been expecting to find him every time we stop.” - -“Your husband has got away, then? Is he in Canada?” - -“Yes, miss. He took out last June.” - -“Did they follow you? Were you afraid of being caught and taken back?” - -“Eleven of us left at the same time, from three plantations. We kept -together the first night, and then we divided. I wanted to come the -same way my husband had. The man who came down there and told us how to -go and what to do said it would be safer for us to divide, and he said -that if I thought I could make the trip alone it would be better for -me, because they wouldn’t think I’d leave the others. He told me not to -be afraid, so I wasn’t.” - -The quick tears sprang to Rhoda’s eyes at thought of this childlike -trust and simple steadfastness. “Do you know who the man was?” she -asked. - -“No, miss, I don’t know his name. He was a young man and so kind -looking you knew right away that you could trust him. He came out from -Lexington about two weeks ago and we all thought he was just after -birds. He wanted to get bird skins and he paid some of the children who -could catch birds in snares, so the skins would be whole. But after a -day or two word was whispered round that he wanted to see the slaves -who would like to be free.” - -Rhoda nodded. “Yes, I know him! He was here only a month ago, getting -names of people who would help the runaway slaves and what they would -do for them. He was at our house and went right on down into Kentucky -to let the slaves know how they can escape from slavery. His name is -Alexander Wilson.” - -“Yes, miss. I didn’t hear his name. I’d been powerful anxious to get -away ever since my husband took out, so I went to the meeting, in our -preacher’s house. The man had seen Andrew, my husband, in Canada, and -he had sent me some money and word to follow him as soon as I could. -Oh, miss, he’s free now, and he’s earning money, his own money, and -making a home for us!” - -For the first time in the woman’s simple narrative the note of deep -feeling broke through her tone and manner of settled, mournful -resignation. The childlike wonder in her voice as she uttered her last -sentence touched her listener deeply. - -“There are no slaves in Canada,” Rhoda said gently. “You’ll be free too -and perfectly safe when you get there. What made you and your husband -dissatisfied in the first place?” she continued. “Did you have a hard -master?” - -“No, miss, he’s a right kind man to his slaves, better than his sister. -She’ll be married some day, and we all thought the slaves might be -divided then and maybe some of us sold down south.” She was silent for -a moment, a suspended accent in her voice, and Rhoda waited. “Master -was always right good to Andrew. There was a reason--” She checked -herself, as if some innate delicacy prevented her from saying more, and -went on: “But Miss Emily would have sold him if she could. She didn’t -like him.” - -“Miss Emily!” Rhoda exclaimed, a catch in her breath. - -“Yes, miss, master’s sister, who has a share in the slaves and -everything. But Andrew’s free now! He can’t be sold now!” Her voice was -full of happy satisfaction. - -“But you’ll soon be in Canada, and then you’ll be free too, just as -free as he is,” Rhoda told her assuringly, thinking that the slave -woman had not yet realized the freedom to which she was fleeing. The -girl spoke calmly and compassionately, but at her heart there was a -quick throbbing. - -“I mean he’s surely free, miss! He’s got his free papers! Master -followed him and most caught him, the man told me, and a young lady hid -him in a cave. Master Jeff came and she persuaded him to give Andrew -his free papers. Oh, miss! I wish I could see that young lady!” At -last the refugee’s feeling had broken through her manner of subdued and -patient resignation. Her voice was trembling with eagerness and in the -moonlight Rhoda could see the tears rolling down her cheeks. “I’d do -anything for her, anything!” - -A lump swelled in Rhoda’s throat. She leaned forward to tap her horse -to a faster pace along a level stretch of road, then lifted her eyes to -the sky and whispered, “O God, I thank thee!” - -“What is your name?” she queried as she leaned back again. - -“My name is Lina, miss,--Carolina, but I’m always called just Lina. My -husband’s name is Andrew Delavan. We took master’s name.” - -“Andrew is doing well in Canada, I think you said?” - -“Yes, miss. He’s got some land and he’s building a log house for us. It -will be our own!” - -“Well, Lina, I want you--can you write?--after you get there I want -you to write a letter to me--I’ll write down my name and address for -you--and tell me about your home and whether or not you and Andrew like -being free. I think perhaps I know that young lady you spoke of and -I’ll show her your letter. It will give her more pleasure than anything -else you could do.” - - - - -CHAPTER IX - - -It was still early the next day when Horace Hardaker appeared at Dr. -Ware’s east gate and looked anxiously around for signs of life. After a -little he saw Jim at work in the stable and hurried thither. - -“Good morning, Jim! Is the doctor at home?” - -“Yes, sah, I s’pose he is, though I hain’t seen him. I reckon he’s -heah, sah, for heah’s Prince and the buggy he used last night. Do you -want to see him, sah?” - -“Yes--no, that is--I reckon he didn’t get in until pretty late?” - -“I reckon you all are right, sah! I reckon it must a’ been pow’r’ful -late!” - -“Then don’t disturb him now. I’ll see him later in the day.” Hardaker -turned and walked a few steps, as if going away, his head bent and his -eyebrows wrinkled, then hesitated and came slowly back. “Miss Rhoda--is -she around anywhere?” - -Jim came close and in low tones told briefly the happening of the night -before. “Miss Rhoda, she hain’t got back yet and I’se begun to feel -anxious about her.” - -“She probably waited at Gilbertson’s until morning, and then stopped -for breakfast. I dare say she’s all right, but if you’ll saddle up -Prince for me I’ll ride out that way and make sure.” - -Trotting along on the road toward Gilbertson’s Horace Hardaker seemed -to be uneasy of mind. His brows were wrinkled, his lips pressed -together, and every now and then he made an impatient exclamation. He -was a young man, still under thirty, but he had already acquired a good -law practice and was becoming noted throughout his own and adjoining -countries for his success in jury trials. His sandy complexion, bright -blue eyes and the round, boyish contour of his cheeks made him look -even younger than he was. Countenance and expression both indicated the -emotional temperament that was at the bottom of his success in jury -pleading. It rarely needed more than three sentences of an address -to the twelve peers in the box to sweep him into the full tide of -ardent conviction of the merits of his case. Whatever may have been -his secret thought about his client before, Hardaker always believed -in him enthusiastically by the time he had been talking five minutes. -Moreover, he was able, with remarkable frequency, to make the jurymen -believe in him too. - -Just now he was asking himself, “Shall I tell her about it?” and -the perturbation which the problem caused him was evident in his -countenance. An uneasy shifting in his saddle and a shake of his head -showed that the telling, whatever it might be, would be an ordeal from -which he shrank. - -“But I’d as soon tell her as the doctor,” his thoughts went doubtfully -on, “and I don’t know but it would do more good. Hang me if I don’t -need advice from somewhere inside the family!” Another irritated -exclamation broke from his lips. But the impatience and anxiety of his -manner abated somewhat as he went on considering whether or not he -should confide his trouble to the absent Rhoda. - -“She’s got so much good sense,” he told himself, “and she understands -about things better than most girls do, and there’s no nonsense about -her. She knows how to be a good friend too--I reckon she and the doctor -are the best friends I’ve got, even if she won’t marry me--and that -makes it all the worse!” he exclaimed, looking as if there were a bad -taste in his mouth. - -As he crossed the top of one hill he saw Rhoda driving down the long -slope of the next. With a flourish of her carriage whip she responded -to his hat-waving salute. - -“Let me hitch Prince on behind and get in and drive you back,” he said, -as they met at the bottom of the hill. “So you had some U. G. baggage -to deliver last night?” he continued, as he jumped in and took the -lines from her hands. - -She flashed a smile at him. “Yes, a trunk and two handbags. And oh, -Horace, they were the wife and children of the man to whom Mr. Delavan -gave his freedom last June! I do hope they’ll get to him safely!” - -He remained silent, as he usually did if she spoke in his presence of -Delavan. So she turned at once to another subject. - -“How did the party go off last night? I didn’t see Charlotte when she -came home, so I don’t know anything about it yet. Did you have a good -time?” - -“The party? Oh, yes, it was pleasant. Everybody seemed to enjoy -themselves.” - -She cast a side glance at him. He was looking fixedly ahead and his -expression seemed to indicate lack of interest in the social function -to which he had escorted Charlotte. She tried another tack: - -“I spent the evening reading speeches. You’ve read George William -Curtis’s oration, haven’t you?” He warmed up at this, with a look of -relief, and they plunged at once into a discussion of the speech, -comparing ideas upon it, and telling each other bits of news they had -heard about its influence and about the progress of the campaign. - -“When the state elections are held next week, in Ohio, Indiana and -Pennsylvania,” said Hardaker, “we’ll have a good indication of how -things will go in November. The side that gets Pennsylvania will be -pretty sure to win. I hope we’ll carry it, but between you and me, -Rhoda, I don’t like the look of things over there. They’re stealing our -thunder. They’re yelling ‘Buck and Breck and Free Kansas’ all over the -state. And Kansas has about as much chance of becoming free if Buchanan -is elected as--Prince has of flying.” - -“Has Julia said anything in her letters to you about John Brown and -what the free-state people in Kansas think about him? You know the -others accuse him of most awful murders.” - -“War is always murder, and it doesn’t pretend to be anything else,” he -responded with energy. “The Buchaneers have been doing some atrocious -lying about him and about everything else out there. According to them -it’s war when the border ruffians drive the free-state settlers out of -their homes and murder when Brown or anybody else helps to defend the -settlers from their attacks. No, Julia hasn’t said anything particular -about him, but my opinion is that at the greatest risk to his own life -he’s helping to save Kansas from the grip of the slave power.” - -“Father believes in him,” said Rhoda thoughtfully. “He knew John Brown -here in Ohio, before he went to Kansas and he says there is nobody more -devoted to the anti-slavery cause, or more enthusiastic and unselfish. -Charlotte was trying to argue with me yesterday and telling me a lot -of stuff she had got from Billy Saunders about him. But I never take -Charlotte seriously.” - -“Charlotte is very different from you,” said Hardaker, gloomily. - -“She’s different from all of us, except that I think she must be like -what mother was at her age, only more--more of a mischief. The truth -is, Charlotte is dreadfully spoiled. We all spoil her, and no matter -what she does we laugh and say, ‘O, it’s just Charlotte!’--except -mother, and mother takes her too seriously, and that just makes her try -to be more provoking. She had it in for Billy last night. Did she make -him wish he’d never been born?” - -“She didn’t stop with Billy!” Hardaker exclaimed, shutting his jaws -with a snap. - -His companion laughed. “Did she visit her displeasure on you too? She -made a sort of half threat at supper about making you promise to vote -for Buchanan. I wonder if she did!” Rhoda teased, her face rippling -with smiles. - -Horace looked full into her laughing face, then turned his eyes -suddenly to the front. “Hang it all, Rhoda,” he broke out, “I must tell -you about it, though I’m afraid you’ll despise me afterward. The truth -is,--I suppose--I’m engaged to Charlotte!” - -“What! You!” she ejaculated, her eyes wide with amazement. - -“Yes--I suppose so--something of the sort. Anyway, I made love to -her”--his face was a deep rose color and his eyes downcast--“pretty -violent love, I guess--at least I felt that way--and--well, the upshot -was that I suppose Charlotte considers that we’re engaged. Oh, I know -what you’ll think of me, but I can’t help it now. I’ll just stand up -and take my medicine.” - -As Rhoda listened, varying expressions flitted across her face. Once, -when Hardaker stole a sidewise glance at her he saw there the stern -look her father wore when deeply displeased, and his heart sank. But -he went on stoutly. As he finished her lips were twitching, then the -corners of her mouth went up, and she laughed aloud. At the sound of -her merriment he looked relieved, and laughed a little too, though in a -shamefaced way. - -“Forgive me, Horace!” Rhoda gasped. “Don’t think me unsympathetic--but -it was so like Charlotte!” And she broke into another peal of laughter. - -“I don’t quite know what made me do it!” he pursued. “Charlotte is a -pretty girl, and good company, and I like her well enough, but--you’ll -excuse me, Rhoda--I don’t exactly approve of her, and heaven knows I -don’t want to marry her. That is, I don’t this morning, in cold blood. -Last night--well, last night, I felt different.” - -“Exactly!” agreed Rhoda. “I understand. Charlotte usually can make a -man ‘feel different’ when she tries. And I guess she must have tried -real hard last night!” - -“But that’s no excuse for me acting the fool,” Hardaker responded -gloomily. “And that’s just what I did, Rhoda--egregious fool, -consummate fool, and every other kind of a fool you can think of. Do -you think she’ll want to hold me to it?” - -Rhoda smiled and shook her head. “No, Horace, I don’t. At least, not -for very long. She was probably flirting with you just to add to -Billy’s punishment. All she’ll want will be to get her own little fun -out of it.” - -Hardaker brightened up. “She--she wouldn’t let me kiss her! So I reckon -she wasn’t in earnest.” - -Rhoda laughed again. “Don’t feel worried about it any more, Horace! It -will all blow over in a week.” - -He looked at her gratefully. As she met his eyes she saw more in them -than gratitude. “Rhoda, you’re the best girl out! I wish--” - -She checked him with a warning hand. “Never mind about that, Horace. -Just start Prince up a little faster, for I must get home.” - -At that moment they came out upon the top of the hill. Below them lay -the town, its bowering foliage dashed here and there, like an artist’s -palette, with splotches of brilliant color. Winding between hills and -fields, the noble river flashed back the morning sun. Involuntarily -Hardaker checked the horse, exclaiming, as two river packets came -sweeping around a bend below the town. One of them was three or four -lengths ahead of the other. - -“They’re racing, Rhoda! Just look at their speed!” - -“Oh, Horace! See the flames coming out of their smoke stacks!” - -“I reckon the firemen are just shoveling in the resin, along with the -coal, this time!” - -“The one ahead is the ‘Ohio Beauty,’ isn’t she?” - -“Yes, and the other’s the ‘Northern Belle.’ Those two race every chance -they get. The ‘Belle’ is trying to get ahead and beat the ‘Beauty’ to -the landing, so as to capture all this morning’s business. Look, Rhoda! -You can see them turning on the hose around the smoke stacks, to keep -the decks from taking fire!” - -Both the steamboats were tooting their whistles and ringing their -bells, the shrill sounds of the one eased a little by the sweet notes -of the other. Across the clamor broke faintly the music of the bands -stationed on their decks. Horace and Rhoda could see the people on each -boat waving hats and handkerchiefs at the other. - -“See the ‘Belle’ spurt ahead! She’ll get there first yet if the -‘Beauty’ can’t get up a little more steam!” - -“And she is! Oh, Horace, see how the flames are pouring from her -chimneys!” - -Then, suddenly, the “Beauty” seemed to leap from the water, there was a -low, booming roar, and out of a burst of flames and smoke her fragments -were scattered upon the bosom of the river. - -For one instant the two watchers upon the hilltop sat stunned and -breathless. Then, “My God!” muttered Hardaker as he leaned to urge the -horse forward. - -“Hurry, Horace!” cried Rhoda. “We must get father,--he’ll want to go at -once!” - -They dashed down the hill at a gallop, and up the other side, and drew -in at the Ware gate to find the doctor, his razor in one hand and his -face covered with lather, trying to see from the veranda what had -happened. - -They called to him, “A steamboat explosion!” and he rushed back into -his office, to reappear in a moment with his surgical case and medicine -bag, wiping the lather from his face with his handkerchief. - -A swarm of rowboats was already picking up survivors from the water, -and the “Northern Belle,” sure now of all the traffic there would be -that morning, slowed down and stood by until her decks were crowded -with the wounded, burnt, or half-drowned sufferers. - -Dr. Ware found a rowboat to take him out to the Belle, still waiting in -mid-stream. “Come with me, Rhoda,” he said. “You can help.” - -When the girl cast her eyes over the deck, as she stepped on board, -she shrank back, appalled and sickened by the ghastly sight. But with -a tightening of the lips she drew herself together and went to work. -Presently, as she was trying to quiet an hysterical woman, her father -came close and drew her aside. - -“Rhoda,” he said in a low voice, “Jeff Delavan has just been brought on -board.” She turned pale and swayed toward him and he grasped her arm. -“Steady, girl,” he encouraged. “He’s alive, but unconscious. As far as -I can see now I don’t think he is seriously injured. Your mother would -probably want him taken to our house.” - -She straightened, with a quick grip upon herself. “Yes, father, of -course she would--and I, too. Oh, he shall go nowhere else!” - - - - -CHAPTER X - - -So it happened that when Jefferson Delavan came back to consciousness -Mrs. Ware was bending over him, extreme anxiety in her look. Dr. Ware -had found that his manifest injuries consisted in a broken rib and -some burns upon his arms. But an accidental blow while clinging to -a plank in the water had rendered him unconscious and he had been -rescued barely in time to prevent him from slipping off and sinking to -his death. Over the possible results of this blow the physician was -anxious. Everything would depend, he had told his wife and Rhoda, upon -how the young man came out of the oblivion. He had warned them that it -might be with wandering wits, and in that case only time could tell -how severe, possibly even how permanent, would be the results of the -accident. - -Delavan stirred and moaned slightly and Mrs. Ware, bending over him -with her fingers upon his pulse, saw that his eyelids fluttered. -“Rhoda!” she called, her voice a-tremble and sinking to a whisper, -“he’s coming to!” Rhoda, leaning across the foot of the bed upon her -clenched hands, was watching his face with intent eyes. - -“Come and stand beside me!” her mother went on with quivering lips. -“If he shouldn’t know me I--I can’t stand it!” Rhoda took his wrist -from her shaking hand, pressed firm fingers upon his pulse and threw -her other arm with a little soothing caress around the elder woman’s -shoulders. Suddenly the patient’s eyes flew open and with a bewildered -stare looked up into Mrs. Ware’s pale and anxious face. - -“Jeff, dear boy, don’t you know me?” she begged. His blank, -unrecognizing gaze rested upon her for a silent minute, then wandered -on and fell upon her companion. - -“Speak to him, dear,” Mrs. Ware whispered brokenly. But there was no -need. Slowly a puzzled expression crept into the vacuity, and that -presently gave way to one of recognition, and then the hearts of -the two women were stirred to their depths by the glad wonder that -illumined his countenance. Never would Rhoda be able to forget that -look, like the sudden happiness over-spreading the face of a child at -unexpected sight of a loved one, which her presence had inspired--her -presence, which had brought back his sense, trembling upon the verge of -that unknown black gulf, into the world of light and reason. - -“Rhoda!” he said feebly, and then, smiling, closed his eyes again. - -“Stay here beside him,” Mrs. Ware whispered, “while I go and see if -your father has returned. Oh, honey! I think it’s going to be all -right!” - -When she came back with Dr. Ware, half an hour later, she slipped -quietly into the room a few steps ahead of her husband and found Rhoda -telling her patient what had happened, while he listened, with her -hand clasped in his. Her motherly heart gave a quick throb. “It has -brought Rhoda to her senses too, at last!” was her quick inference. But -a moment later doubts disturbed her certainty as she saw the unconcern -with which the girl withdrew her hand and made way for her father. - -Dr. Ware was well pleased with the young man’s condition. “You’ll have -to stay in bed a few days, perhaps a week,” was his decision, “while -your broken rib is knitting itself together again. You’ve got a pretty -good case of nervous shock also, as the result of that blow on your -head--and you can thank God, Mr. Delavan, that it’s nothing worse than -shock. But a few days of quiet will make that all right too.” - -There was no perturbation in the physician’s mind, at first, over the -presence of Jefferson Delavan in his house, invested though the young -man was with the romantic interest of his narrow escape from death. He -felt sure of his daughter now and did not believe there was any danger -of her marrying the southerner. She had thrown herself unreservedly -into sympathy with the anti-slavery cause and she was working with him -enthusiastically and efficiently in making of their house a “station” -on the Underground Railroad. - -“No,” he assured himself, “she won’t go back on her convictions now. -She’s decided what’s right for her to do, and she’ll stick to it like -a soldier.” He smiled with pride, but a moment later his thought -supplemented, with softened feeling, “It will be hard on her, though!” - -On the whole, feeling thus sure about Rhoda, he was rather glad to have -the young man there, because of the pleasure it would give his wife -to mother him and to recall the memories of her youth. In Dr. Ware’s -feeling toward his wife there was a strong element of compassion. In -serious middle age, considering the past with judicial mind, he doubted -not a little if, in that wildly impelling time of youthful passion, -it had been quite the fair thing for him to marry her and take her -away from all her girlish associations. He knew well enough that she -had loved him then and that she still loved him and that their life -together had been as calmly happy as imperfect mortals have any right -to expect the wedded state to be. - -But he also felt quite sure that if he had not paid impetuous court to -her in those vivid youthful days she would have loved and married some -man of her own region and lived her life surrounded by the conditions -and the people with whom she was most in sympathy. His conviction that -she would have been happier in such estate inspired him with a very -great tenderness toward her, and with a half-realized wish to make -atonement, in such little ways as became possible, for what she had -missed. - -She had been loyal to him through all these years, and from the start -had refused to go back to her old home for even a short visit, because -the invitations from her family had never included him. That one stay -at Fairmount, with Jeff Delavan’s mother, had been the only return to -the old life which she had ever allowed herself. So now he was pleased -when he foresaw how much comfort she would find in having “Adeline’s -boy” under her roof and needing her ministrations. - -But Mrs. Ware had still another reason to be pleased that Jeff Delavan -was to be a member of their household for several days and under -such conditions. She warmly hoped and therefore almost believed that -Rhoda’s determination would go down under the persuasive influence of -daily association with her lover. The girl was a good nurse. She had -considerable knowledge, acquired from her father, of what ought to -be done in a sick-room and she was one of those people with a native -knack for making an invalid comfortable. Therefore, Mrs. Ware argued, -it would be her duty to take main charge of their bedridden guest, and -Rhoda would do it if she could be made to see that it was her duty. - -There was nothing so sure to soften a girl’s heart, she told herself, -as seeing a strong man dependent upon her care. And this combined with -Jeff’s masterful love-making and the pleadings of her own heart--could -there be a better combination? Truly, it was almost providential, -Jeff’s being upon that boat. - -She began at once to plan the household matters so that Rhoda would -be free to devote the greater part of each day to the sick-room. She -decided also that it was most necessary for the patient to be kept -quiet, to be undisturbed by much going in and out of his room, and that -therefore Charlotte, at least for several days, should not be admitted. - -Charlotte keenly resented this order. She felt it to be most unfair -that she, who would undoubtedly be to any young man the most -entertaining member of the family, should be barred from a room so -full of romantic interest as this, in which lay a good-looking young -gentleman, who had barely been rescued from a tragic death but who -doubtless would still be capable of good judgment in the matter of -feminine attractions. When Rhoda found her at the piano practising “The -Last Rose of Summer” in the late afternoon of that first day she was -looking very glum. - -“What’s the matter, sister?” Rhoda queried. - -“Nothing,” Charlotte answered shortly. - -“Really? I’d never think it!” Rhoda smiled at her, sitting down -with a lapful of stockings to be sorted into goats-to-be-mended and -sheep-not-to-be-mended. “If I were going to guess, I’d say you were -sleepy and needed to go to bed early. I heard you come in last night, -and it was pretty late. You haven’t told me a word yet about the party. -Did you have a good time?” - -Charlotte laughed and tinkled some notes upon the piano keys. “Yes, -indeed! I haven’t had such a perfectly lovely time in I don’t know -when!” - -“That’s good!” Rhoda smiled discreetly, her eyes upon her work. “And -Billy--did he have a good time too?” - -“Oh, Billy! Rhoda, you ought to have seen him! He was just furious! He -looked as if he wouldn’t want to speak to me for a month. But he will!” - -“You haven’t said anything about Horace. Did he enjoy the evening?” - -Charlotte, with her eyes on Rhoda’s face, opened her lips to make a -merry answer, hesitated, then darted at her sister a searching glance. - -“Rhoda,” she exclaimed, “Horace has been telling you about it!” - -“About what?” Rhoda looked up, the suspicion of a smile at the corners -of her mouth. - -“O, la! About _it_, I said, didn’t I? Oh, Rhoda, it was such fun!” -Charlotte’s voice was suffused with laughter. “But it’s nothing to make -Horace propose. Why, Rhoda, you could do it!” - -Rhoda laid her stockinged hand, in whose covering she was searching for -possible holes, in her lap and turned serious eyes upon Charlotte’s -face, alight with merriment. “Do you really think so, sister? But, -then, I don’t think I should want him to.” - -Charlotte looked at her in surprise. “You wouldn’t, Rhoda? That’s -queer! But you are queer, anyway! The first thing we know you’ll -be wearing short hair and bloomers and going to woman’s rights -conventions! But please don’t, until after I’m married, anyway, so I -won’t belong to the family any more!” - -“If you’re going to marry Horace right away I shan’t have to wait very -long, shall I?” - -“Who said I was going to marry Horace? Did he?” - -“No. He said he--hoped you wouldn’t!” - -They both laughed and Charlotte went on, with a saucy toss of her head: -“Oh, he did, did he! He ought to be punished for that! Rhoda, I’m going -to tell him he’s either got to keep his promises or vote for Buchanan! -You know, I’m awfully fond of Horace”--her mouth drooped and her voice -was plaintive--“but I’d be willing to give him up for the sake of a -vote for Buck!” - -“Poor Horace! You ought to be ashamed to tease him so!” - -“Well, then, if you don’t want him teased, I’ll tell you what I’ll do.” -She stooped to pluck Bully Brooks, now verging fast upon the dignity -of cathood, from the comfort of a nap upon a chair. “If you’ll persuade -mother to let me go in to see Jeff Delavan whenever I want to I’ll let -Horace off. But if you don’t he’ll have to either marry me or vote for -my side. Won’t he, Bully Brooks?” - -The response of the kitten was of such emphatic sort that she boxed its -ears and threw it to the floor. “The kitten’s getting too big to be -teased,” Rhoda commented quietly. - -“Well, Horace isn’t!” she responded saucily and went whistling from the -room. - - - - -CHAPTER XI - - -“No, mother, I don’t think I ought to do it.” - -“Why, Rhoda, what a curious idea! It seems to me to be plainly your -duty. Jeff is so much quieter and more contented when you are in the -room.” - -“But it doesn’t seem quite right to me to stay there so much when I’m -not going to marry him. I know he--still loves me and if I spend so -much time with him he’ll think I’m just leading him on to make him ask -me again.” - -Mrs. Ware smiled at her daughter and fondly patted her arm. “My little -Puritan girl! No, honey, Jeff is a gentleman and he won’t think -anything of the sort. It’s very wrong of you to let such silly scruples -hinder his recovery. Just think how fortunate it was that you were -there when he came to himself yesterday! Why, Rhoda, I told your father -it was just as if the sight of you fairly pulled him into his right -senses. And now he’s nervous and fretful if you stay out of the room -very long, as you did this afternoon. That’s bad for him, Rhoda, you -know it is. He needs to be kept contented and happy.” - -Rhoda turned to the window and looked thoughtfully out. They were in -her mother’s bedchamber, on the western side of the house. The sun was -sinking into a royal couch of red and gray and gold, amber and pink -and purple. Its level red rays fell upon the arbor and touched the -withering leaves with delicate, evanescent tints. Her thoughts went -back to that June night and she seemed to sense again the fragrance of -the white petunias and to feel that prescience of fate awaiting her in -its heavy shadows. And then with a rush that set her heart to beating -faster came the thrilling memory of love words and the knowledge that -had been born in her breast. Mrs. Ware noted the direction of her eyes -and saw the quickening of the faint rose-bloom in her cheeks. She -guessed what was in her daughter’s mind, smiled, and kept silent. - -That there was truth in what her mother said about her influence in the -sick-room Rhoda was well aware. She had herself noted their patient’s -increased nervousness if she stayed long away from his presence, and -she treasured the thought of it in her heart as she did his open words -of love. And she longed, far more than even her mother could guess, to -be there with him, to minister to his comfort, to hear his voice, to -catch now and then the look of love in his eye. So much did she yearn -for all the blessedness of it that she was afraid to trust herself, -afraid for her resolution. - -She turned her eyes away from the grape arbor and deliberately fixed -her thoughts upon the slave woman and her two little children whom -she had succored two nights before, forced herself to think of the -dozen others whom she had helped to conceal in the house and to further -secretly on their way, of the desperate, fleeing bondman whose freedom -she had won from Jefferson Delavan in the woods on that June afternoon. - -With a sudden indrawing of her breath she set her teeth upon her lip -and said within herself, “No, no, I will not fail you!” - -But the dear thought of her lover and his need of her still drew her -heart. Well, she would tell him there must be no more of love between -them and that only upon that understanding would she stay beside him in -his sick-chamber. Then he could have no false hopes and the way before -them would be fair and clear. At this capitulation she was conscious of -a thrill of happiness and she could not resist dwelling for an instant -upon a sweet premonition of their hours together. Just then she saw -Charlotte down in the yard and her sister’s proposal of the day before -recurred to her, as it had already done several times. She knew there -was no telling how far Charlotte might choose to carry her teasing of -Horace Hardaker. - -“Poor Horace! It’s a shame!” was her thought, but a smile went with -it. “Such a good friend as he is, and he does take things so much in -earnest!” Why shouldn’t Charlotte go in and out of the room as freely -as she did? The idea brought a sharp pang with it--Charlotte had such -a way with her, and if she chose--well, what right had she herself to -Jeff’s love when she would not marry him? What a mean thing it would -be to stand in her sister’s way if Jeff should choose to transfer his -affections. Something seemed clutching at her heart, but she turned -quickly round to her mother, who had been waiting with a pleased -smile on her face, scarcely doubting what would be the result of her -daughter’s few minutes of thought. - -But Mrs. Ware had not yet learned, although Rhoda had been giving her -constant proof of it for more than twenty years, how different were -their viewpoints, their modes of thought, the results toward which -their temperaments bade them aim. Rhoda was always surprising and -disappointing her, and yet she had such faith in Rhoda’s good sense -that she could never believe, beforehand, that the girl would fail to -see things just as they appeared to her. And one such surprise was even -now awaiting her. - -“Maybe you’re right, mother, and I’ll do as you like about it, only it -seems to me that Charlotte ought to go into the room as much as I do.” - -Mrs. Ware looked at her daughter in blank surprise. “Charlotte! -Why, Rhoda, that would be the greatest mistake! You know how trying -Charlotte is, and Jeff needs rest and quiet!” - -“His nervousness won’t last long, and it will be good for him to have -some one there as lively and entertaining as Charlotte is. It doesn’t -look, right, mother, it isn’t quite nice, when there are two of us, to -allow only one to go inside his room. I’ll be chief nurse if you want -me to,” and she flashed her sudden smile upon her mother, “but I want -Charlotte for my assistant.” - -And finally, with many misgivings and much inward wondering why Rhoda -did not know better than to give Charlotte such an advantage, Mrs. Ware -gave up her determination. And Charlotte, her eyes sparkling over the -triumph she had gained and her cheeks glowing with pleased excitement, -helped Rhoda to take in the invalid’s supper. - -The next day they were both in Jeff’s room, Rhoda with some sewing -at which she worked while all three talked and jested together. But -Charlotte was making much pretense of putting things to rights. She was -of small stature, like her mother, and had a dainty figure, supple and -well rounded. It showed to best advantage when she flitted about, as -she was doing then, with quick, graceful movements, her body seeming -to take unconsciously just the right poses and her arms and neck and -head to move as if with some pleasing rhythm. Rhoda, who was tall and -inclined to thinness and had long arms, knew with inward bitterness -that when she moved about a room it was with no such pleasing effect. -As she glanced now and then at Charlotte she could not keep a touch of -envy out of the admiration with which she regarded her sister. - -Charlotte noted her side glances, made instant inference as to their -cause, and at once became busier than ever. She had a way of tilting -her hoopskirts as she walked, of which her mother had voiced frequent -disapproval, so that with every step they showed her feet and ankles, -and seemed to emphasize the grace and daintiness of her figure, with -whose movements they swayed in harmony. The accomplishment had cost -her a deal of practice before her mirror, and she usually reserved its -exercise for occasions when she wished to be especially provoking. -But she began it now, although her mother was not present, and tilted -back and forth across the big room, tossing every now and then to Jeff -Delavan a smile, a saucy look, a laugh, or a gay rejoinder. His eyes -followed her and he joined in her gaiety with evident entertainment. A -dull, pained foreboding began to creep into Rhoda’s heart, but she said -firmly to herself, “It’s all right, whatever happens, for if I won’t -marry him I’ve no right to try to keep his love,” and held it down and -laughed and talked with them. - -After a little Mrs. Ware came in for her morning call upon her “dear -boy” and when she left the room she summoned Charlotte to go down the -hill upon an errand for her. As the door closed upon them Delavan -turned to Rhoda with a smile. - -“What a spoiled child that little sister of yours is!” he said. “I -rather think she needs a lesson, and some of these days she’s bound to -get it. It’s to be hoped,” and his voice became gentler, “that it won’t -be too hard on her.” - -“Well, I’ve an idea,” Rhoda replied, “that Charlotte would be pretty -well able to take care of herself and would be likely to give back a -better lesson than she got!” - -He gazed at her a moment in silence, and she, seeing the look that was -coming into his eyes, turned her attention to her sewing and tried -not to feel the trembling in her bosom and the warming of her cheeks. -“How loyal you are, Rhoda,” he said presently, “except to your own -heart--and to me!” - -“Don’t, Jeff! Please don’t say those things to me any more! I mustn’t -listen to them, no matter how much I’d like to, for I’m not going to -marry you--you know that. Give it all up, Jeff, and let’s see if we -can’t be just good friends!” - -“No,” he broke in, “I shall not give it up, as long as I can see and -hear in your eyes and your voice that you love me! You’ve no right, -Rhoda, to deny your heart and mine like this!” - -“Oh, Jeff, I’ve gone over that, and over and over it, so many times -with myself, and there’s only one right way, the way my conscience -points out to me! I can’t marry you, Jeff, I can’t, and that’s all -there is about it! It’s only painful to us both to talk about it, so -please don’t do it again! We enjoy each other’s society so much, both -of us, so let’s just have what comfort we can out of being together -while you’re here, and not spoil it by talking about what can’t be!” - -“It’s because we love each other, dear heart, that we like being -together! Oh, Rhoda, if you’d only admit--” - -She bent toward him with her sudden, flashing smile, that he had come -to know as the signal of some equally sudden and unexpected face-about -in her thought, and he stopped, expectant. - -“I do admit it, Jeff!” came to him demurely in the wake of the smile. - -“Rhoda!” he cried, and his whole being tried to leap toward her. But -he had no more than lifted his head from the pillow than she sprang up -with a cry of alarm, her hand thrust out to hold him back. - -“Jeff, you mustn’t!” she exclaimed, her face suddenly serious again and -her voice all anxiety. “You’ll break that rib over again if you don’t -lie still, and father says it’s knitting together so nicely!” - -In her alarm she had put one hand against his chest to push him back -upon his pillow. Quickly his hand imprisoned it and held it against his -heart. For a moment neither spoke and as she bent above him feeling -his heart throb beneath her hand, looking down into his eyes and seeing -love and longing there, response crept into her own and a warmer color -into her cheeks. Unconsciously she bent nearer, swayed toward him, and -he threw up both arms, sure that they would enclose her in the embrace -for which they were longing. But realization flashed upon her and she -sprang back. He held his empty arms toward her for a moment, then let -them fall upon the bed. She could not bear the look upon his face and -sank down into her chair, her own hidden in her hands. - -Presently she began gathering up her sewing, scattered upon the floor. -“Rhoda,” he said humbly, “I beg your pardon!” - -She would not meet his eyes, but kept her own steadily upon her sewing, -as she neatly folded it together. “It wasn’t your fault any more than -mine,” she answered in subdued accents, “but it mustn’t happen again, -or I shall have to stay out of here entirely. I must go now. Father is -usually home by this time, and I always go to his office when he comes -to see if he needs me for anything.” - -“But you’ll come back, dear, as soon as you can? And you’ll forgive -me?” he begged. - -“Yes, I’ll come back, when I can, but I’ll be busy now, for a while. -And I’ll forgive you--if you’ll forgive me!” She smiled at him, not -the radiant flash which he loved, but just a tender curving of the -lips which sent no merry light up into her serious eyes. - -“Rhoda! What a dear girl you are! Forgive you! You’ll come back soon?” - -“As soon as I can.” She turned at the door, still smiling gently, and -held up at him a warning finger. “But you must promise not to talk -about love!” - -“All right, Rhoda. If you won’t stay away long, I’ll promise--for next -time!” - -Outside the door a trembling seized her and she leaned against the -wall. “I didn’t give up,” she told herself, “I didn’t, that time. But -could I--again?” - -She went into her own room and knelt beside the window, whence, a few -nights before she had seen the mulatto refugee and her babies come -trudging up the street. Vividly the picture came before her mind and -with it once more the thought of all that such a flight must mean to -a woman, alone and in the dark, with two helpless children, herself -almost as helpless as they. She bowed her head upon the window sill and -whispered: “O God! Dear God in heaven, give me strength to keep myself -away from that accursed thing! Save me from my own heart, which tempts -me so, and keep me, O God, keep me from giving up!” - -When she rose from her knees, she did not go at once downstairs, but -moved about the room, doing little things that did not need to be -done, straightening a pillow on the bed, moving a chair, raising the -window shade, then lowering it again, rearranging the things on her -bureau. And at last, irresolutely, she opened a drawer and took out the -little box tied with white ribbon. She held the withered rose in her -palm, kissed it, and said softly, “Good-by, dear love, good-by.” - -Perhaps she believed at that moment that she would never again allow -herself to caress and to brood over this little symbol of her love, -that she would never again give up to her heart even in a privacy where -none but herself could know that she had yielded. But she carefully put -the box away again in the same hiding place, which she knew so well -that her hand could go straight thither with her eyes shut. For her -years numbered but two and twenty and they had fallen from her along an -easy path, marked as yet by struggles too few to have taught her that -God helps only him who helps himself to the uttermost, and that perhaps -far more of God is in his own strivings than in the distant heaven to -which he prays. - -On the stairway she met her father. “I’ve been looking for you, Rhoda,” -he said. “Come into the office.” There he carefully shut the doors, -after a hurried glance round about. “I’ve just had a letter,” he went -on in a lowered voice, “from Alexander Wilson. You remember him, don’t -you?” - -“Yes, father. The young Canadian who was here a month or so ago, to -study the Underground Road, and went on south to stir up the slaves. -Did I tell you that the woman I took to Gilbertson’s the other night -had been started by him?” - -“No! Was she? He’s doing a good work down there, at tremendous risks, -too! If they find out what he’s up to it will mean tarring and -feathering, and lynching afterward, and all of it on the spot. He’s a -brave fellow, Rhoda! Where did he send this woman from?” - -Rhoda colored. In the excitement and the unusual press of duties that -followed the steamboat explosion there had been little time for private -talk with her father and beyond the bare information that the three -refugees had been there and that she had taken them on she had told -him nothing of the incidents of that night. It had come about that -she shrank from saying anything about Delavan’s being a slaveholder, -especially to her father. It seemed to her a moral obliquity which her -love instinctively yearned to hide from others. But there was only a -moment’s hesitation before her earnest eyes met his frankly. - -“She came from Jeff’s plantation, and she is the wife of the man, -Andrew, to whom Jeff gave his freedom last summer--you remember? Mr. -Wilson saw him in Canada and he sent word and some money to his wife -for her to follow him. She said Mr. Wilson got eleven slaves together, -from different plantations, and started them all off on the same night. -The rest went by other routes,--mostly, I think, through Philadelphia. -She wanted to come the same way her husband had taken. Wasn’t it brave -of her, father, to start off alone with those two little children, -without knowing a thing about how or where to go, except just as she -is told, from one station to the next! She seemed so passive and so -trustful! I haven’t felt so sorry for any of the others that we’ve -helped as I did for her!” - -In Dr. Ware’s heart some uneasiness had begun to make itself manifest -lest the presence of the young man in that room upstairs might -yet influence his daughter more than he wished. Perhaps he craved -reassurance that she did not regret her decision. Perhaps also unspoken -sympathy with the struggle between her conscience and her heart moved -him as he asked: - -“You do not regret, do you, Rhoda, that you went into this work?” - -She looked at him in some surprise and met his gray, calm eyes bent -upon her with something more like wistfulness in their expression than -she had ever seen in them before. - -“No, father, I do not. I am very glad.” There was no mistaking the -truth of her quiet tones. But the next instant her lip began to -tremble. By sheer force of will she held it firm, closely pressed -against the other, and fought down the lump that was rising in her -throat. That look in her father’s eyes had made her long to throw -herself upon his breast, and sobbing her heart out there tell him how -hard the struggle had become. Surely he would sympathize and give her -comfort and strength. For an instant the vision came back of him and -her mother, in their passionate youth, galloping, galloping, on that -wild ride to their heart’s rest--oh, surely he would understand both -sides of her trouble! But the habit of years was strong upon them both, -and they sat in silence for a moment longer, while Rhoda battled down -her emotion and her father looked through a bunch of letters he had -taken from his breast pocket. It was she who spoke first. - -“You said you had a letter from Mr. Wilson, father. Was it about that -you wanted to see me?” - -“Yes. Here it is. He writes from Vicksburg: - -“‘DEAR FRIEND WARE: On this same date I am forwarding to you six copies -of “The Burning Question,” three bound in black and three in tan. If -there have been any changes as to handlers and forwarders since I was -in your neighborhood can you send some one to the south side of the -river to watch out for them and see that they do not fall into too -appreciative hands? They are billed to go in the usual way and ought to -be on hand within a week after this letter reaches you.’” - -He put the letter away and looked at her anxiously. “Can we take care -of them, Rhoda?” - -“Oh, we must, father! We must manage to do it in some way!” She -bent forward, looking at him intently, and into her face crept the -expression he was beginning to see there whenever they talked or -planned or worked together upon this matter, a strained, eager look, -with something in it of exaltation. - -“Walter Kimball and his brother Lewis would probably be able to go -across and keep watch for them,” he began. - -“Yes,” she broke in, “and one of them could hurry back and let Horace -know, as soon as they get there, and then go over again and help the -other row them across, and Horace could rush up here and tell us, so -that we could be ready for them. It will be difficult to hide so many,” -she ended doubtfully. - -“The boys must arrange to get them here in the night and then we can -manage it. I’ll get word to Chaddle Wallace to be in the neighborhood -with his peddler’s wagon and he can take four of them in that. Perhaps -one of the Kimball boys can drive two in our carriage.” - -“Or I can, if you want me to. I’ll see that Lizzie has plenty of things -cooked ready for their supper. Oh, it will go off all right, father, -and we won’t need to keep them here more than an hour!” - -“We’ll have to make some different arrangement now that winter will -soon be here,” he said thoughtfully. “We’ll have to contrive some sort -of hiding place in the house or the barn, so that we can keep them over -night if necessary.” - -“I’ve been wondering, father, if a sort of little room couldn’t be -hidden in the woodshed, with the wood piled around it close.” - -“Yes, that could be done,” he nodded slowly, “and it would be a pretty -safe place. The slave chasers would hardly think of investigating an -innocent-looking woodpile. That’s a good suggestion, Rhoda, and I’ll -have it done, and the winter’s wood stacked all around it. Marshal -Hanscomb has got a pretty keen nose and I think he’s suspicious about -me anyway, just because of my sentiments. But I reckon that would be -too much for Hanscomb!” - -He smiled at his daughter with quiet exultation in his manner and she -smiled back at him proudly and said it surely would. - -“Your mother wants to make a trip down to Cincinnati soon and -Charlotte, of course, would be glad to go with her.” A trace of -embarrassment suddenly appeared in his manner and, as if to conceal or -to distract himself from some disconcerting thought, he began looking -over and sorting the letters and papers on his desk. “I’ll have this -done while she’s gone,” he added abruptly. - -Rhoda rose, feeling dismissal in the sudden change in her father’s -manner and went slowly toward the door. She felt what was in his -mind. It had brought discomfort into her own thought, and more than -once she had wondered if she might not speak to him about it. But -unwillingness even to seem to question his attitude in a matter so -peculiarly intimate between him and her mother had held her back. Now -she knew that it was in his mind as well as in hers and she felt that -it would grow and become an embarrassment between them. For herself it -was already a stumbling block whose importance seemed graver with every -episode of her work in the Underground. Why not meet it at once and get -the question settled? - -She stopped with her hand on the door knob and looked back. To her -surprise his eyes were following her, those calm, clear, cool eyes that -in her mind were a sort of embodiment of her father. They seemed to sum -up and express his whole character and temperament. She could never -think of him without seeing his gray eyes looking at her, kind, but -dispassionate and judicial. - -“What is it, Rhoda?” he asked. - -She came slowly back, looking down, and conscious that there must be -something almost like shamefacedness in her manner. - -“I was wondering, father--is it necessary--do you think--must we -keep it from mother always? Charlotte--it’s just as well--and that’s -no matter--but mother--” She stopped, confused, and fingered the -chair-back beside which she stood. Her eyes were upon it or she might -have seen a slight flush color his usually pale skin. There was a -moment’s silence before he spoke. - -“Don’t misunderstand me about that, daughter,” he said gently. He did -not often address her except by her name and when he did sometimes call -her “daughter” or “child” it stirred in her a shy warmth toward him and -awoke a half-realized impulse to cling to his hand or stroke his hair. -The impulse always died away in self-consciousness, but the warmth -remained in her heart and made her glad. - -“If I don’t take your mother into my confidence about this it is -because I want to spare her any worry or embarrassment or divided -feeling that it might cause her. Don’t think for a minute,” and his -tones were earnest, “that I don’t think she would be loyal. I know well -enough how true to my interests she would be. But, do you understand, -it might grieve her, or give her some uneasiness, or even pain, if she -knew what we are doing. Her sympathies are all on the other side. But -I must do this work. It isn’t much, but it will help, and it seems to -me the best that is possible for me. But I want to do it, if I can, -without adding--without giving her any discomfort. I’m glad you spoke -about it, Rhoda, for I wanted you to understand.” - -“Thank you, father. I understand how you feel, but--” she had reached -the door again, “but, I wish it didn’t have to be so. I wish we could -tell her.” - -“So do I, daughter.” She looked back, surprised at the unusual sadness -in his voice, and saw him sitting at his desk, his head on one hand -and his eyes on the floor. The sight of him thus smote her heart. She -hesitated an instant, then went out softly and left him alone. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - - -Mid-October came, and the day of local elections in three of the -northern states. The whole country was waiting on the tiptoe of -expectancy for the result. Pennsylvania was the keystone of the -situation. The party that would win the presidential contest would -have to have her twenty-seven electoral votes, and this state poll was -looked upon as a sure indication of how the commonwealth would go three -weeks later. It was everywhere admitted that the issue would be close. -Sectional and party feeling and consequent excitement ran so high and -hot that there were dark forebodings of what might happen. All men knew -that they walked upon a thin crust over volcanic fires that might burst -through at any moment, upon any pretext. - -The Republican party was surprising itself and the entire country by -its showing of remarkable strength and its brilliant prospects of -success. From the South were coming threats of disunion louder and -more frequent and more positive. In many of the slave states there -was already the stir of endeavor to agree upon concerted action in -case Frémont should be elected. Through the north the Democratic and -the Whig parties made much of these portents as showing the danger -Republican success would mean to the united country. But the Republican -leaders, jubilant over the proofs of their strength which the campaign -had developed, and secretly recognizing the weight of this argument, -made light of both it and the southern threats. - -And so the whole country waited in breathless anxiety on that cold -and drizzling October day, with its attention centered on tumultuous -Philadelphia, both sides fearing defeat, both sides hoping for victory, -and all dreading the spark with which some chance word or untoward -accident might kindle the smoldering passions in that city into flames -that would quickly involve the whole nation. - -Rhoda moved restlessly about the house, showing little interest in -her usual duties and disregarding her mother’s hints that she was -neglecting their invalid guest. Delavan had almost recovered from his -injuries and in a few days would return home. Mrs. Ware was sorely -disappointed that his presence in the house had not affected her -daughter’s determination. She began to feel sure that it must be her -husband’s influence over Rhoda that balked all her own efforts and -nullified the effect of the constant association from which she had -hoped so much. - -Jeff asked her advice that morning and they talked the matter over -intimately. She promised him once more the full measure of her -influence with Rhoda. “I’m afraid it isn’t much,” she said, a little -tremulously. “But I’ll do my best, Jeff.” - -“I thank you, Mrs. Ware, madam, and I assure you I shall not go away -without trying again to win her consent.” - -“You and little Emmy used to call me ‘Aunt Emily,’ when I was at -Fairmount,” she said with a suggestion of reproof, half motherly, -half coquettish, if the chastened ghost of a manner that sometimes -remembered its alluring youth might still be called coquettish. - -“It is the dearest wish of my heart to call you ‘mother,’ some day,” he -answered, kissing her hand. - -“And of mine to hear you call me so,” she added, bending over and -touching her lips to his forehead. Then they fell to talking of his -mother and she was deeply interested in the many little things Jeff -remembered of her life at Fairmount. He recalled that she had always -shown concern for the welfare of the slaves and had given training in -their duties and deportment to the housemaids and had allowed them and -also the men who served about the house and gardens to acquire a little -education if they wanted it. - -“You must tell Rhoda about that,” Mrs. Ware exclaimed. “Let her see -that there is some virtue in slaveholders. It’s just her notion about -slavery being wrong that keeps you apart, Jeff. If you could only -convince her that there is as much right in it as there is in anything -in this world, where nothing is all right, I believe she’d give up. -I’ve tried to, but she seems to think I don’t know enough about it, in -general, for what I say to have any influence. Talk to her about it, -Jeff, and make her see plainly how we of the South feel about it. You -know how necessary slave labor is to the South, and all that side of -it. She has heard only the things the abolitionists say, here in the -North, and she’s all taken up with that. But you can give her the other -side, as a southern man with one of the best and kindest of hearts, who -has studied the question thoroughly. If you can only convince her that -slavery is right, dear boy, or even best for the niggers, as we know it -is, you’ll win the day--and make me almost as happy as you will Rhoda, -or yourself!” - -“It is good advice, madam, and I shall follow it. I have begun to -understand that I must win Rhoda’s head before she will give up her -heart. But I shall win them both, and call you ‘mother’ yet!” - -“Heaven grant it, dear boy, for you were made for each other, you and -my dear girl!” - -She rose to take her leave, but Charlotte came with fresh medicines for -the invalid and bustled about the room preparing his draughts. Mrs. -Ware, with an eye upon her daughter’s graceful movements, sat down -again and talked of ordinary affairs until she thought Charlotte had -spent as much time there as was needful. Then she summoned that young -lady to go with her and assist at certain rites in the kitchen. - -But Rhoda would not visit the sick-chamber through all the forenoon. -Why she was staying away she scarcely knew, except that she said to -herself several times during the long hours of the morning, “He won’t -miss me if Charlotte’s there.” Jeff had obeyed her injunction that he -must not speak of love, and during the last two days had kept careful -curb upon his tongue and close watch upon the language of his eyes. And -she missed more than she would admit to herself the outbreaks of those -heretofore unruly members. She shared her father’s suspense over the -election that was going on and during the forenoon, whenever he was -alone in his office, she went in to ask him if he had heard any news -and to talk over the situation. - -More than ever, this fall, he was making a companion of her and -discussing with her as freely as he did with Horace Hardaker and his -other anti-slavery friends, the plans and movements of the anti-slavery -people, and the prospects of the Republican party. She was a good -listener, rarely making comments unless she had something worth while -to say, and usually he found what she did say clear-thoughted and -sensible. - -On this morning it was not only her interest in what was going on in -Pennsylvania that sent her every now and again to seek her father’s -society. Of equal force was her desire to escape from the tormenting -questions that filled her mind as to what Jeff was doing, whether -Charlotte was with him, and whether or not he was wishing she were -there. And so, between her political zeal and her love, she passed a -restless, fruitless morning. - -Her mother noted her frequent visits to her father’s office and, -coupling with these the fact that she had all the morning ignored -Delavan’s presence in the house, made instant inference. “It’s Amos’s -influence over her,” she told herself, resentment rising bitter in her -heart. “He’s urging her against it and spoiling my dear girl’s life, -just for the sake of his own whims! It’s most selfish of him--and -wicked. But I’ll see what I can do!” - -Knocking at Rhoda’s bedroom door after dinner she found her daughter -sitting at the eastern window, hands idly folded in her lap, and eyes -upon the wooded hills, whose autumn colors glowed softly through the -gray, dripping mist. It was so unusual to see her doing absolutely -nothing that Mrs. Ware stared at her in blank surprise. - -“Why, Rhoda, you look lonely sitting here all by yourself,” she said -briskly. “Why don’t you go in and stay with Jeff for a while?” - -“I don’t know--I guess I don’t feel like it,” Rhoda responded, a -forlorn note in her voice. - -“Jeff has been asking for you, dear. In fact, he’s fretting himself -into a fever because you haven’t even looked into the room all this -morning. And you were there only a little while yesterday--” - -“Twice, yesterday, mother.” - -“But such a little while each time. It isn’t kind to leave the poor boy -alone all day, on such a dreary day as this.” - -“But Charlotte--” - -“No, I want Charlotte to help me to-day. It’s time she was learning to -do more things about the house. Put on your pink frock, honey, you look -so pretty in that, and go in and cheer Jeff up for a while.” - -Rhoda did not answer, but looked out at the wet earth and the drizzling -rain. Through her soul there surged such a forceful longing to follow -her mother’s advice that for a moment it seemed to arrest her powers of -both action and speech. - -“Don’t sit here and mope any longer,” her mother went on with tender -cheerfulness, “and don’t be so unkind to poor, sick Jeff. Come on, -honey, I’ll help you dress.” And opening the wardrobe she took out the -pink gown. Its wide skirt was covered with tiny flounces and when it -was adjusted over a ruffled petticoat and her largest hoopskirt, her -slender waist and her head and shoulders rose out of its spreading -folds as if they were emerging from a huge, many-petaled rose. - -Jeff Delavan’s face brightened as she floated into the room. He was -dressed, for the first time since his accident, and sitting by the -window. - -“Rhoda! How good of you to come--and to wear that dress! You’re like a -ray of sunshine on this dark day! I’ve listened and hoped for you all -day, and at last you’re here! You’re such a busy person, Rhoda, that I -ought to feel fortunate to get even a little of your time. What have -you been doing all the morning? All manner of things?” - -“Yes,--no--that is--yes, I’ve been busy,--I always am, you know,” -she stammered, confused, remembering how idle her morning had been. -“I’ve been with father part of the time,” she went on, recovering her -self-possession, “talking about the elections to-day.” - -“What do you care about the elections?” he demanded, in bantering -gaiety. - -She turned to him with proud gravity. “More than I do about anything -else in the world.” - -Quickly his expression changed to one as serious as her own, and he -began to speak of the situation in Pennsylvania and of his own belief -in the success of the Democratic state ticket. She listened for a few -sentences and then her heart began to clamor for signs of love in his -face and voice and words. She ignored the fact that she had forbidden -all such manifestation and knew only that she wanted it and it was not -there. All unknown to her, in his gladness at her coming her lover -was having his own battle with himself to do her bidding, and was so -fearful lest he should overstep the line she had drawn and lose her -dear presence that he was plunging into this political discourse as the -safest thing he could do. - -She seemed to be paying close attention, but she heard only a word or a -part of a sentence here and there. Instead, vague fears, half-realized -doubts, uncertain questions filled her brain. Would she ever again see -that look in his face? Did he ever look at Charlotte like that? Was -his love for her all gone so soon? And then the spirit of the eternal -feminine began to assert itself in her breast. She was, after all, her -mother’s daughter, and although the spirit of coquetry lay deep within -her breast, so deep that only the call of truest love could bring it to -the surface, yet it was there and it came now to do her heart’s bidding. - -It was all done instinctively, without conscious intention. But if her -mother or sister could have looked through the wall they would have -been surprised by the sight of a different Rhoda from the one they -knew. This tender creature of coquettish graces and alluring smiles and -eyelids quickly lowered over ardent glances--was she the practical, -efficient daughter of the house, upon whom they were both so dependent? - -Delavan gazed at her, began to stumble over his sentences, confused -the names of the people of whom he spoke, broke off for an instant, -went back and started anew, then stopped abruptly in the middle of a -sentence. “Rhoda Ware,” he exclaimed in a low voice that shook with -feeling. - -At the sound of it Rhoda’s little, half-conscious coquetries dropped -from her instantly. It was a serious face that his gaze encountered -as he surveyed her with dark eyes glowing and about his mouth the -baffled but determined look that had become for her a sign of his -strength--measure alike of his self-control and of his determination. -She had seen it in every one of their struggles and it had seemed -always to be saying to her, “You’ve conquered this time, but I shall -win you yet!” She watched for it and loved it because it told her alike -of her power over him and of his forceful masculine will, and perhaps -also because deep down in her heart she half believed and almost hoped -it would yet be stronger than her own resolution. - -“Why do you insist upon keeping us apart?” he demanded, an imperious -note in his voice. “You are doing a wicked thing. You’ve no right to -starve both our hearts of the love that belongs to us, because of a -mere whim!” - -“Listen to me, Jeff, while I tell you the truth, and then you won’t -want to marry me!” She was sitting straight and stiff, her face pale, -and in it something of the same exaltation he had seen there on that -June day in the arbor--the outward glow of the sacrificial fires she -had lighted for the consuming of her love. - -“You don’t know what I am, Jeff! I am a nigger-thief and I am proud -of it! I am stealing your slaves, anybody’s slaves that want their -freedom, and helping them to find their way to Canada, where they will -be safe! Jefferson Delavan, of Fairmount, Kentucky, doesn’t want to -marry a woman who does that sort of thing and means to keep it up as -long as there are slaves and she has power to help them!” - -He looked at her a moment in silent amazement. “Rhoda, you don’t -realize the full significance of what you are saying, and doing!” - -“If I could I would run off every slave from your plantations and send -them all to Canada, where you could never touch one of them again. That -is how much I realize it!” - -A slow smile crept over his face while he regarded her with a look that -was half surprise, half overleaping love, and was not without a touch -of tender amusement. “But if you were to take away all my slaves, dear -heart, you wouldn’t do me nearly the harm that you are doing now by -stealing yourself from me!” - -Her serious eyes looked straight into his for a moment in silence, and -then her flashing smile broke over her face. “I won’t ask you to put -your words to the proof,” she said in a quizzical tone. - -He flushed a little. “I know what you mean,” he answered tenderly, “and -if there were no more in this matter than the mere question of having -or not having slaves I would willingly free all that I own--ask Emily -to divide the property and give their freedom to all the niggers that -might fall to my share--for your sake, Rhoda, dear, for the sake of -making you my wife. But the South needs slave labor--has got to have it -in order to be prosperous--and I would be as untrue to my duty to my -state and to my section if I were to do that as you think you would be -to your conscience if you were to accept slavery.” - -She followed quickly upon his last word: “There can be no need of -property or prosperity, as you call it, equal to the need, the right, -of every human being to his freedom. When you make your comfort and -wealth,--I mean all of you in the South,--of more importance than that -first human right you are outraging one of God’s laws, and God’s curse -will yet fall heavily upon you because of it.” - -“You speak in that way, Rhoda, because--pardon me--you really know -nothing about economic conditions in the South. You are merely -repeating the words of these abolition fanatics at the North, where -the industrial conditions are such that slave labor would not be -profitable. If it were, there’d be a different tune sung north of Mason -and Dixon’s line!” - -She shook her head at him. “You say that because you don’t understand -the feeling that is at the bottom of the anti-slavery movement. It -places human rights above business profits.” - -“As to that, we of the South have our human rights and civil rights, -too. We are trying to keep faith and you of the North are struggling -to break it. You abolitionists forget the big share, the equal share, -the southern states had in the making of this country, and you forget -that they bore more than their share of the burden and loss of making -it into a nation. There was more blood shed in South Carolina during -the Revolution, Rhoda, than in Massachusetts, yes, more than in all New -England. And now Massachusetts has the presumption, the insolence, to -try to dictate to us how we shall order our affairs! We let her alone -to work out her own destiny, and we demand the same right!” - -“But we northerners see farther and see clearer into the way things are -going than you can, because your eyes are blinded by what you believe -to be your present interests. We want you to recognize the truth, that -this nation was created to be a free country, that those who made it -meant it to be the hope of the whole world, and it can never, never, -be that as long as you of the South insist upon making it half slave.” - -“You are quite mistaken, Rhoda, as to what they meant, or, rather, as -to the way in which they meant it. When this nation was created North -and South joined in sworn faith to a written contract. That contract -recognized the rights of the south in its peculiar, its necessary, -institution, and provided for their safeguarding. And now the North is -trying to break that sworn faith, to force us out of our constitutional -rights. It is not only our property but our honor that is at stake, -and we should be craven indeed if we did not resent this combination -of despotism and insult! Preston Brooks was right when he said the -other day that if Frémont is elected the people of the South ought to -march to Washington and seize the archives and the treasury of the -government!” - -She was leaning eagerly forward, her eyes shining, her lips parted, -her face, paled by her excitement, vivid with the feeling that had -swept her up into the regions where soul and body breathe the elixir of -supreme conviction. But when she spoke, breaking in quickly upon his -first pause, it was not only the fulness of her belief that thrilled in -her low, tense tones. Their lower notes were sweet with the love that -burned in her heart. - -“Oh, Jeff, can’t you see-- Oh, I wish I could make you see that there -can be no rights that are founded on wrong.” She paused a moment, her -voice on a suspended accent, as she gathered her thoughts together. -Delavan’s eyes devoured the fair picture that she made and his heart -leaped in response to those sweet notes in her voice. His mind was full -of the ideas he had just uttered, tense with the conviction of their -truth, and his nerves were thrilling with the emotions they had bred. -And this dear girl, leaning toward him with spirit-lit face, as tense -with her convictions as he with his, was the embodiment of all that -northern feeling and activity which he so much resented, against which -he protested with all his force as a base invasion of Southern rights. - -But, even as his body throbbed with love and admiration for her -fairness and sweetness, his spirit yearned toward the loftiness of -hers. Ah, they were akin, they were mates, their spirits, even though -they were opposed! He recognized in her that same fervency of faith, -that same power of devotion to the mind’s ideal, that were bone and -sinew of his own temperament. And they were on opposing sides of this -vital question--so intensely vital, he felt, to him, to his section, to -the nation, to the whole of civilization! If only they were joined in -their ideals! - -“You see, Jeff, when they signed the Constitution, they hadn’t come to -realize yet how wrong slavery is. Men grow in knowledge of right and -wrong, and we in the North have grown faster on this question than you -have, because we haven’t had the comfort and the luxury and the wealth -produced by that awful wrong to blind and hinder us. Our eyes have been -opened--God has opened them for us, and we see slavery for what it -is--a hideous, cruel, horrible thing that keeps human beings down and -makes beasts of them, brutalizes the souls God made in his image!” - -She clasped her hands and began to extend her arms beseechingly toward -her listener. Her pink sleeves fell back a little and his heart swelled -with longing to see the warm roundness of those arms reaching out -to him in love and surrender. “Oh, Jeff, it is so wicked, so evil,” -she began. “I wish I could make you see--” her voice broke, she drew -back her arms and dropped her face into her hands, then sprang to her -feet. “And--and--oh, Jeff--” her voice was thrilling with love, but -it trembled upon sobs and she rushed to the door. “It is keeping us -apart!” she cried, and the door closed behind her. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - - -Charlotte ran upstairs from the veranda and dashed into her sister’s -room. “Do look out, Rhoda,” she called. “It’s that crazy peddler, -Chad Wallace. He’s asking father if he can keep his wagon in our barn -to-night. Now there’ll be some fun this evening--he’s so comical, with -his songs and dances!” - -Rhoda moved to the window and saw a little, wiry-looking man talking -with Dr. Ware beside the east gate. A short, sparse growth of graying -whiskers covered his face to the middle of his cheeks, and pale-colored -hair curled around his neck below his shabby, bell-crowned hat. His -wagon, with side curtains rolled up displaying boxes piled inside, was -at the hitching post. - -“He looks just the same as ever, doesn’t he,” she said calmly, as they -stood beside the window with their arms about each other’s waists. But -her heart was beating faster, for she knew what his coming meant. She -knew that in his dingy old wagon he was accustomed to make long trips -on the Kentucky side of the river, ostensibly selling his wares in -villages and at farms, but picking up, whenever opportunity offered, -some fugitive slave and concealing him in a vacant space in the -center, around which the boxes and packages were carefully arranged. -Then he would cross the river at the nearest ferry and put the runaway -into the charge of an Underground “station.” Or, sometimes, he would -remain for months at a time in the neighborhood of one or another of -the Underground routes through Ohio, apparently selling his stock of -notions, but really conveying the fleeing slaves from one station to -another. - -Rhoda knew from her father that the people engaged in the Underground -work considered him one of the safest of the “conductors.” The -commonplace character of his occupation and his eccentricities, which -Dr. Ware told her were mainly assumed in order that he might appear all -the more innocent, had proved so efficient a disguise as to prevent, -even in pro-slavery communities, the least suspicion of his real -business. - -Word had come that afternoon that the expected half-dozen fugitives -had safely reached the Kentucky shore and would cross the river in a -rowboat after dark. Chad Wallace ate supper with the Ware household and -entertained them with stories of his travels told with so many touches -of eccentric humor that he kept the table in a breeze of laughter. Jeff -Delavan, who was to leave for his home the next day, enjoyed them so -much that he invited the peddler if he ever journeyed as far south as -Lexington to drive on to Fairmount, where he would be glad to see him -and listen to more of his amusing stories. - -On the veranda after supper Charlotte begged Wallace for some of -his funny dances, and he did negro shuffles and antics and sang -negro melodies down the front walk to the gate. There he kept up the -entertainment, interspersing the negro songs with doggerel of his own -composition, until a delighted audience of children, young people and a -few of their elders had gathered. Finally, waving his old hat at them, -he walked away, breaking into a song that was much heard in those days -at anti-slavery meetings: - - “Then lift that manly right hand, bold plowman of the wave, - Its branded palm shall prophesy ‘Salvation to the Slave!’” - -Jeff Delavan, listening on the veranda, started angrily, the amused -smile died from his face and his brows knit in a frown. The tenor -voice, still surprisingly good, though somewhat cracked by age, rang -back from down the street as the slender, wiry figure disappeared in -the dusk: - - “Hold up its fire-wrought language that whoso reads may feel - His heart swell strong within him, his sinews change to steel.” - -“Is he that sort of a crank?” Jeff exclaimed in a low voice to Mrs. -Ware, who sat beside him. “If he is, I don’t care about his coming to -Fairmount.” - -“There’s no harm in Chaddle Wallace,” she responded assuringly. “He -isn’t much more than half-witted, and nobody ever takes seriously -anything he says or does. But he has this quaint vein of humor, so that -people are always glad to see him and hear him talk. He loves music, -too, but I don’t suppose he cares at all about the meaning of the -words. As for that abolition thing, why, he’s just as likely to break -into ‘Dixie’ and sing it with just as much gusto. Oh, no, Jeff, Chad -Wallace is a harmless creature!” - -It was some hours later and the house was dark, save for a light in Dr. -Ware’s office, when Rhoda, watching at her bedroom window, discerned -some shapes in the darkness hurrying up the hill. As they emerged into -the dim circle of light from the lantern at their east gate, she saw -that it was Chad Wallace and his little band of runaway slaves. Softly -she ran downstairs to admit them into the office. Her father was there, -but asleep on the lounge. With the utmost caution, walking on tiptoe -and speaking only in whispers, she and Lizzie brought into the office -their supper of bread and meat and hot coffee and in half an hour they -were ready to start again upon their way. As they stole silently out -of the house Dr. Ware bundled three of them into his carriage, which -Jim had ready at the gate, and the other three were quickly concealed -in the peddler’s wagon. With even less of noise than was usually -occasioned by the physician’s response to a night call, the party set -forth on its journey to the next station. - -Hurriedly extinguishing the lights and locking the doors, Rhoda stole -back to her room and leaning from her window listened to the distant -sound of wheels for assurance that, so far, all was well. Her heart -beat high, as it always did after they had passed successfully through -one of these night episodes. For she knew the never-ceasing danger -that the fugitive might have been followed and trailed to their house. -All along the southern border of the state there were numbers of men, -from both sides of the river, who spent most of their time hunting -runaway slaves, for the sake of the rewards for their capture. She and -her father were well aware that their succoring of fugitives might -be interrupted at any moment by the entrance of the United States -marshal and his band of armed men, with consequent arrest, trial, and -imprisonment. - -The words that the peddler had sung were running insistently through -her brain and as she lighted her candle she softly hummed: - - “Hold up its fire-wrought language that whoso reads may feel - His heart swell strong within him, his sinews change to steel.” - -“Yes, that’s just it,” she nodded to her reflection in the mirror, as -she placed her hand against her heart. “That’s just how it makes me -feel whenever I think of any of the horrible things that slavery means.” - -She knew the history of the incident that had given to the Quaker poet -inspiration for the lines--the branding by a southern court with the -letters “S. S.”--“slave stealer”--of the captain of a little coastwise -vessel for attempting to carry some slaves from Florida to the Bahamas -and freedom under English law. Holding up her own long, slender hand -with knitted brows and lips compressed she gazed at the palm, as if -trying to imagine how it would seem to feel the red-hot iron searing -her own flesh. Then with a disdainful gesture she threw out her arm, -her head high and eyes shining. “They may brand me on my palms and my -cheeks and my forehead too if they like--what would that be beside this -work!” - -Counting on her fingers she murmured, “This makes twenty-five we’ve -sent on to liberty--and in such a little time! Oh, we’re helping the -slaves, and oh, please God”--she dropped on her knees beside her bed -with her face in her hands, “please God, we’re doing something to help -kill slavery!” - -At the breakfast-table the next morning Delavan asked concerning the -entertaining peddler and was told that he must have made an early -start, as Jim on his first errand to the stables had reported his wagon -already gone. - -“Does he travel at night?” the young man asked. “Sometime in the night, -when I wakened after my first sleep, I thought I heard his wagon -leaving the barn.” - -Rhoda hastened to say that perhaps it was her father’s carriage he -had heard, as he had had to make a night trip. Charlotte, chancing to -look at her sister as Delavan asked his question, thought that Rhoda -started and changed color ever so little. Immediately her alert mind -began to wonder why, and she fixed her eyes sharply upon her sister’s -face. Rhoda felt her gaze and endeavored to change the subject quickly -in order to ward off the insistent questions which it would be like -Charlotte to begin to ask. But at that moment Bully Brooks came -unexpectedly to her assistance. Passing under her chair he emerged from -beneath her skirt and playfully leaped at a bit of string on the floor. -Charlotte saw him and, remembering certain kittenish tricks which he -had not yet grown too old to play beneath her own hoopskirts, she -smiled knowingly at her sister and dropped the subject from her thought. - -Later in the day Jefferson Delavan took his departure, and under his -escort Mrs. Ware and Charlotte went down the river to Cincinnati. Since -their argument on election day Rhoda had given him no opportunity to -renew his love siege. Nevertheless, her heart was like lead in her -breast, now that he was really going, and she was afraid to trust -herself alone with him lest she would find herself saying, “Stay, oh, -stay a little longer!” And yet she felt relief at the thought that the -dear torment would now be lessened, glad that she might rest from the -keener strife within herself that his presence provoked. - -When he bade her good-by he held her hand closely and said, “We’ve -not spoken the last word yet, Rhoda Ware! I’m coming again some -day,--though I hope I won’t be exploded into your house the next time!” - -Her eyes were serious upon his face, but she felt her cheeks growing -warmer with the pressure of his hand. She told herself that she ought -to withdraw her own, but afterwards she knew that she had not even -tried to take it out of his clasp. “You’d better not come,” she said -gravely. “What is the use?” - -“But at least I may come--to see your mother!” he exclaimed, smiling, -and an answering ripple of mirth drove the gravity from her countenance. - -It was nearly a week after the state elections before it was known -certainly that the Democratic ticket in Pennsylvania had won, by a -narrow margin, over the candidates upon whom the three other parties -had united. Rhoda listened as her father, Hardaker, and the two -Kimballs discussed the result. They were gathered around a cheerful -blaze in the sitting-room fireplace, for the evenings had grown chill. -Her mother and Charlotte had not yet returned. - -“Oh, we’ve lost,” said Dr. Ware calmly, “and among ourselves we may as -well admit it, though of course we’ll keep up a hopeful appearance in -public.” - -But Hardaker was more buoyant. “There’s hope yet,” he insisted. -“Pennsylvania has always reversed her state victory at a following -presidential election. And there’s no reason to suppose that she’ll do -otherwise this time. I still believe we’re going to win.” - -Rhoda saw her father suddenly compress his lips and throw a quick -glance around their little circle. “To tell the truth,” he said slowly -in a low tone, “just here among ourselves, though I wouldn’t admit it -outside, I hope we are defeated this time.” - -The rest started with surprise and Walter Kimball exclaimed, “For God’s -sake, Dr. Ware! What do you mean?” - -“Frémont is not the man we need. He hasn’t the capacity, he hasn’t -the strength of character to meet the crisis the country would have -to face if he should be elected. He’s served a good purpose in this -campaign--he’s created enthusiasm and stimulated the growth of -Republican sentiment. But that’s all he’s good for.” - -“Well, we’ve made a marvelous showing, anyway,” said Hardaker in a -triumphant tone, “and we’ve got the South scared and their northern -allies shaking in their boots over the safety of their pet institution. -In another four years,” he straightened up, his eyes glowing, and went -on in a voice of jubilant prophecy, “we’ll sweep the country and show -the South that there’s got to be an end of slavery!” - -“Yes, we’ll do it next time, if we haven’t this!” exclaimed Lewis -Kimball with enthusiasm. “But, as Dr. Ware says, we’ll have to have the -best man possible to lead the procession. Who’ll it be? Frémont again? -Seward? Governor Chase? What do you think, doctor?” - -Rhoda watched her father anxiously as he gazed into the fire. “No, -not Frémont--heaven forbid!” he began slowly. “He has revealed his -weakness. Governor Chase is with us, heart and soul, but I’m afraid -he isn’t quite big enough. Seward?--Perhaps, if he hasn’t proved too -conservative by that time. Well, we’ll have to work with all our might -during the next four years and trust to God to raise up some man as a -leader who’ll have the wisdom of Solomon and the backbone of a granite -mountain!” - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - - -Almost as much heartened by the result of the presidential election -as if it had been a victory, Dr. Ware and his friends and political -co-workers in Hillside lost no time in renewing and extending the work -of the campaign. - -“If we have polled such a tremendous vote as this,” they said, “when -the party in many northern states was no more than a year old, what can -we not do in the next four years?” - -The Rocky Mountain Club, through which they had carried on the Frémont -propaganda, was reorganized and every member went zealously to work -again to win converts to their faith and add to their membership. -Joshua Giddings, ardent apostle of the anti-slavery cause, journeyed -down from his home in the Western Reserve during a recess of Congress -and made for them a stirring speech. To another meeting came Governor -Chase with words of hope and encouragement and practical advice. And -on one memorable night Henry Ward Beecher roused an overflowing hall -to a pitch of enthusiastic resolution hardly equaled even during the -campaign. - -Rhoda attended the meetings with her father and shared his zeal in the -work the club was doing. She and Mrs. Hardaker, Horace’s mother, and -Marcia Kimball organized an “Anti-Slavery Sewing Circle” which met at -the houses of the members and made clothing for such of the refugees as -reached the Hillside station ragged and shivering. - -Mrs. Ware knew only in a general way of her daughter’s interest and -work in connection with this society, and of Rhoda’s connection with -the Underground she knew nothing at all. Deeply grieved, but not yet -despairing, over the girl’s refusal to marry the son of her old friend, -she set herself to combat, in gentle, unobtrusive ways, what she -believed to be the harmful influence exerted by her husband over their -first-born. - -She talked much with Rhoda about the delightfulness of plantation -life and she dwelt long and lovingly upon Jeff Delavan’s passionate -devotion and upon his ambition and capacities which, she was sure, -would result in a career of national renown. Rhoda hearkened with -interest, saying but little in opposition, for her heart had begun to -ache for her mother almost as much as it did for herself and she shrank -from bringing the hurt look into those gentle eyes any oftener than she -found necessary. But sometimes, when evasion was no longer possible, -she would say, with caresses, and humble manner: - -“Dear mother, you don’t know how much all you tell me makes me long for -that kind of life and surroundings. I think the wish for them must -have been born in me. But, mother, dear mother, I couldn’t endure them -if they meant being a part of slavery. Perhaps I should feel different -about it if I had been born there, as you were, and had grown up in it.” - -Dr. Ware knew of the efforts his wife was making to win Rhoda’s consent -and, perceiving that her arguments and presentations made a strong -appeal to their daughter’s temperament, set himself to counteract any -effect they might have by appeals to her conscience. But he openly -urged no argument against the marriage, and in all his talk with her he -took it for granted that the question was settled for good. - -Once he told her the story of Fanny Kemble, then at the zenith of her -fame,--of how, for love’s sake, she had married a slaveholder, although -herself convinced of the wrongfulness of slavery, and of how life on -the plantation, in close contact with the system, had filled her with -such loathing that she had not long been able to endure it. - -“I am very glad, Rhoda,” he added, “that you were able to appreciate, -before it was too late, just what it would mean to marry into the -South’s ‘peculiar institution.’ You have saved yourself a great deal of -unhappiness.” - -But especially did Dr. Ware have confidence in anti-slavery work as a -preventive of possible weakening in his daughter’s determination. To -that end he encouraged her in her sewing-circle activities, enlisted -her help in the sending out of pamphlets, newspapers and other -literature which was a part of the work of the Rocky Mountain Club, and -entrusted largely to her care the refugee slaves who sought the shelter -of their house. - -Husband and wife said not a word to each other of their opposing -desires. Silence upon the question of Rhoda and Delavan was a part -of their lifelong habit of ignoring the question of slavery in their -mutual relations. But each felt so much at stake in their silent -struggle that gradually it forced them apart, and as the winter months -wore on there grew up between them the first alienation of their -married life. - -Rhoda was soon sensible of the growing coldness between her father and -mother and guessed its cause. Her heart ached over the unhappiness -she had so unintentionally brought about and she spent much thought -and many secret tears upon the endeavor to find some way out of the -intolerable situation. Sometimes, in her misery over having brought -such disaster into her home, she felt that, if it would only heal the -breach, she could even sacrifice her scruples against becoming a part -of the system of slavery. - -“But it wouldn’t do any good,” was the conclusion to which she had -always to come. “For if I were to marry Jeff it would make father -bitterly unhappy and he would blame mother for having influenced me to -give way. And as long as I don’t marry him mother will keep on feeling -that it is father’s fault and being angry with him because of it.” - -The hiding place for runaway slaves was completed during the stay of -Mrs. Ware and Charlotte in Cincinnati, in October. It was a little, -narrow room, or cell, long enough for a man to stretch himself at -length on the floor and high enough for him to sit upright on a bench. -On three sides and across the top, cords of wood for the winter fires -were stacked in orderly array. But on the third side, containing the -entrance, where there was only a little space between the room and the -back wall of the shed, the wood was piled irregularly. From any but a -very searching eye these apparently haphazard sticks would conceal the -tiny, boarded structure, while in a moment they could be thrown aside -and passage in or out made easy. Within, a pile of straw and some old -quilts and carriage rugs made a bed comfortable enough, save on the -worst of winter nights, for those who had seldom known a better. - -If a wayfarer gave the four signal knocks on a night too bitterly cold -for him to be housed in the woodpile shelter Rhoda, into whose charge -her father had given most of the work of conducting their “station,” -risked discovery by making some arrangement for him within the house. -Once, when the traveler was a man alone, she bedded him for the rest -of the night on the lounge in the office, until early morning, when Jim -hurried him to the woodshed. Another time, when the suppliants were a -husband and wife and little child, a bed was improvised for them in Jim -and Lizzie’s room. - -But, zealously absorbed though she was in this work and convinced that -it was righteous and would have a good result, Rhoda was never free -from twinges of conscience because it was being carried on without her -mother’s knowledge. “It is her home and it isn’t fair for her not to -know about it,” she thought, time after time, as the winter went by. -“Of course, she wouldn’t like it and it would make her most unhappy to -know about it, and it is very dear in father to want to save her the -pain of knowing. I know it’s right for us to do it--we must-- Oh, dear! -It’s just another of these dreadful knots of right and wrong all mixed -up that the North and South have tangled themselves into! And slavery -is at the bottom of it all,--and slavery is the thing we must get rid -of--tear it all out--no matter--no matter who is hurt!” - -The winter months, with their likelihood of cold and storms, greatly -lessened the Underground traffic. But even so, rarely a week went by -without the coming of at least one dark-faced runaway from the South, -trusting to find, at “the white house on the top of the hill with a -lantern at the gate,” shelter, food, and help for the next stage of his -journey. - -For Rhoda it was a busy winter and its weeks sped by rapidly until the -warming sun brought promise that the spring was already on her way. -Then there came a night of cold and blustering wind with dashes of -rain. It was near daylight when Rhoda was roused from sound sleep by -Lizzie, who was bending over her bed and softly calling her name. A -fugitive was downstairs, tired out and wet to the skin. - -The runaway was a young mulatto, scarcely more than a lad, who had -absconded from his owner, a horse dealer in a Kentucky town, because he -had learned that he was about to be sold to a trader who was collecting -a party of negroes for the owner of a Louisiana cotton plantation. -He was already planning to earn enough money in Canada to buy “free -papers” for his mother, who was owned by a merchant in the same town. -But he was oppressed by the fear that she might be sold “down south” -before he would be able to rescue her. From her box of clothing, kept -on hand for such emergencies, Rhoda gave him new, dry garments, he was -fed and warmed, and then taken to the woodshed shelter where, since he -was so wearied, he was left to rest and sleep through all the next day. - -Notwithstanding her many activities and her zeal for the anti-slavery -cause, Jeff Delavan was never absent long from Rhoda’s mind, nor did -she even try to banish him from her thoughts. Every now and then came -a long letter from him which she read and re-read and pondered over, -and finally answered at equal length. These letters she frankly read, -with now and then a reservation, to her mother, who, as the months went -by, began to hope that finally she and Jeff together would overcome the -girl’s resolution. Rhoda entered into the social gaieties of the town -much less that winter than had formerly been her custom. Her days were -so fully occupied and the nights were so likely to bring responsibility -that she was reluctant to leave her post. Moreover, since she had -become so much absorbed in anti-slavery work, social pleasures had for -her less attraction. Charlotte gibed at her frequently on this account. - -“You’re no better than an old maid already, Rhoda,” she complained that -same morning when the mulatto boy was sleeping in the woodshed. They -were working together, dusting and tidying the big, bright living-room. -Charlotte had been to a party the night before with Billy Saunders and -his sister Susie, who was her particular friend. But it had taken much -coaxing of her mother, with a final appeal to her father’s indulgence, -to win a reluctant consent for her to go without the watchful care of -her elder sister. - -“Really, I think it’s unkind of you to stay at home so much when you -know mother doesn’t like me to go without you.” - -“But she let you go last night.” - -“Yes, because father asked her to. But she didn’t want to do it.” -Charlotte paused in her work and regarded her sister with brown eyes -sparkling. “Say, Rhoda,” she giggled, “do you suppose father would have -sided with me if he’d known about--Horace, last fall?” - -Rhoda laughed, then drew her face into admonishing seriousness. “Aren’t -you ever going to be ashamed of yourself about that, Charlotte? You -ought to be!” - -“Indeed I’m not! And I’ll do it again some day, if you don’t quit being -such an old maid and sticking at home so much!” - -“I guess Horace would know better another time.” - -“Well, he’s not the only one!” Charlotte tossed her head and her saucy -countenance twinkled with mischief. Rhoda noted her expression and -wondered what it might portend, but said nothing. “If you’re not going -to marry Jeff Delavan,” she went on, “it’s time somebody else did! The -idea of letting such a fine young man, with a beautiful old estate like -Fairmount, pine away in single misery!” - -“Jeff is free to marry any one he likes, who’ll have him.” - -“Who’ll have him! The idea! Rhoda, I never heard of such a simpleton -as you are! Well, if you’re determined to be an old maid, after such -a chance as that, you don’t deserve a bit of sympathy, no matter what -happens.” - -Charlotte pursed her lips to the tune of “Comin’ thro’ the Rye” and -started toward the door. “Jeff was exceedingly nice to me on the boat -going down to Cincinnati,” she threw back with a bright glance over her -shoulder. - -“Jeff is a gentleman and is always very courteous and attentive to -ladies.” - -“Oh, is he?” was Charlotte’s response with a significant intonation. -“Well, I’m awfully tired of all the young men in Hillside and--Horace -isn’t the only one, Rhoda!” she ended in her most teasing accents as -she danced away, waving her duster. - -In spite of all her efforts to drive it away, a dull ache settled in -Rhoda’s breast as she thought over Charlotte’s words. She felt sure -that behind them lay some intention of more moment than were that young -lady’s ordinary vagaries. As she had so often done before, she told -herself sharply that she had no right to stand in Charlotte’s way, that -if she did not intend to marry Jefferson Delavan she ought not to try -to hold his love. And her heart answered back triumphantly that Jeff -knew very well he could not hope to make her his wife and that if he -nevertheless chose to remain faithful to her she could not be blamed. - -As she straightened the piano cover and set the chairs against the wall -Rhoda’s lips curved in a proud little smile at the thought that his -love for her was strong enough, her attraction for him potent enough, -to hold his heart thus steadily against her constant refusal of his -wish. For herself, she knew that she would never marry any one else. -But it was different, she told herself, with a man. Naturally, she -reflected, no one could expect him to remain true very long to a girl -who told him “no” over and over again, and it would be no more than any -man would be likely to do if he consoled himself with some other girl’s -love. It would be much harder to bear, she confessed to herself, if -that girl should be her own sister than if she were some far-away being -who would take Jeff entirely out of her life and leave him and their -unfortunate love a mere memory. - -The thought of such an ending of their romance, wherein she would -be compelled to see her sister in the place which by right of love -ought to be her own, made more insistent the ache in her heart and -presently drove her upstairs to lock her door and take from her bureau -the box tied with white ribbon. A number of letters lay in it now, -beneath the faded rose. She took them out, caressingly, turning each -one over in her hands, noting its date, glancing with soft eyes at -its closely written pages. Then she began to read them as carefully -as if she had not already pored over them a dozen times. For the most -part they were arguments in defense of the institution of slavery and -the interests of his section. But these were interspersed with items -of personal interest, little accounts of what he and his sister were -doing, comments upon the duties and the pleasures of their life, and -now and then an audacious mention, which would make Rhoda at first -frown and then smile tenderly, of some holiday they would make or -something they would do when she should be installed as mistress at -Fairmount. But evidently her lover was hoping to win her by appeals to -her intelligence, by trying to convince her that the ideals which he -and his section cherished were righteous and desirable. - -“I do not yet understand,” she read in the latest letter, still -unanswered, “how any one possessing a nature as noble and upright as I -know yours to be can yet engage in that work in which you told me you -glory so much. (I refer to the assisting of runaway slaves). I do not -see how you can reconcile the deliberate breaking of the laws of your -country and the taking of other people’s property with the dictates -of a scrupulous conscience. But I am well assured that you would not -engage in this course if you did not believe it to be thoroughly -honorable and right. And therefore I merely accept the fact and marvel -at it.” - -“The negro is on a moral and intellectual plane so much lower than the -white man,” met her eyes in another letter, “that it is evident he was -designed by an all-wise God to be the white man’s servitor, just as are -the other domestic animals. The Almighty meant the white man to use -him for his own benefit in order that he might the more easily mount to -higher spheres of cultivation and achievement. Between the races there -is a natural relation, ordained by God himself when he created the -black so much inferior to the white, and we are but carrying out His -decrees when we embody that natural, heaven-declared superiority and -inferiority into the legal relation of master and slave.” - -Presently her attention was attracted by farther development of the -same theme in a more recent missive: “The idea that it is possible -for the negro to profit by civilization, to advance or develop, is -a monstrous delusion, held only by a few people at the North who -know nothing about his real character. To attempt to force him into -channels of life and into efforts for which he is by nature unfitted, -as they are bent on doing, would be to turn the natural order of things -topsy-turvy and bring destruction upon the whole nation. For a free -Negrodom in the midst of our republic would swamp it in savagery.” - -Over the concluding page of the last letter she pored thoughtfully, -stopping now and then to consider again the ideas it contained. For -she could not deny to herself the seductive appeal of the aims it set -forth, whatever she thought of the arguments upon which they were -based. Interested though she was in these lines, she yet remembered to -keep her hand over the bottom of the page. She knew what was there, -but she knew too that if she hid it from eyes that would be drawn in -that direction it would leap at her, when suddenly disclosed, with a -fresh thrill of happiness. - -“In this beautiful Southland,” she read, “we are working out what will -prove to be the crowning glory of civilization. Here man, free to reach -his highest possible development, enjoying political liberty, delivered -by the divine institution of slavery from the hampering, benumbing -effects of labor, surrounded by comfort, beauty, affluence, can produce -the finest fruits of human effort. Here a refined and beautiful social -order is being established, learning encouraged, chivalrous feeling -and living made possible, womanhood reverenced, all intellectual -achievement honored and sought after, and here letters and art will -flourish as they have not flourished anywhere on the face of the earth -since the Christian era began. Here will it be possible, and here only -in all the world, for a modern Greece to grow into the fulness of -beautiful flower. Here poets and artists and orators and statesmen and -men of science and women, whose beauty and grace and talent will make -them social queens as powerful as were the ladies of the French salons, -will be appreciated and honored and find it possible to reach their -finest, fairest development. Here in the new world, in our own native -land, will be made possible a reincarnation of all that ‘glory that -was Greece, and grandeur that was Rome,’ as our own lamented southern -poet has so beautifully sung.” - -Thus far she read, and then, lifting her eyes from the page, looked -steadily away for a moment. A soft and tender light shone in their gray -depths as, smiling gently, she dropped them again upon the page and -removed her concealing hand. - -“Is it not a glorious prospect, and is it not worth while, my own dear -heart, to have some share in bringing about so grand a consummation? -What better can I do in the world than to help my beloved South to -maintain and extend her social order in which the negro, a mere animal, -does the work for which he is fitted and to which he was appointed by -the Creator, and the white man, created by God in His own image, is -left unhampered to develop his own God-given talents and so produce -such splendid results? But I am lonely, my dear one, and I long always -for the presence and the companionship of the mate God made for me. -Rhoda, darling, do not be cruel any longer! Tell me I can come and -claim her! Always, your friend and lover, Jefferson Delavan.” - -For a little while Rhoda sat gazing at those closing lines, and then, -with a sigh, she prepared to write her answer. She made several -beginnings that did not suit her and tossed the pages to one side. -“Dear Friend Jeff,” she finally wrote. “Concerning what you say about -my doing things that are contrary to law, I must tell you that when -men make laws that outrage every sense of right and justice in my own -heart then I think that to disobey them is the only right and honorable -course. The law of God is higher than the law of man. The law of God -commands us to help the needy, to succor the oppressed, to aid the -wayfarer, to deal justly by all men. That is what I have been doing and -what I shall continue to do, although I break a whole houseful of man’s -unjust and wicked laws.” - -She worked on through his letter, seriously answering an argument here, -gaily deriding a point there, now displaying a hint of tenderness in -some inquiry concerning his welfare, and again replying with vivacious -but evasive sallies to personal remarks in which the lover seemed to -overbalance the friend, until at last she came to the closing page. -Then she laid down her pen and read it over again, realizing fully the -enthusiasm, ambition and youthful energy which stirred and fed his -devotion to this ideal of his section, and feeling also to the depths -of her soul how completely it parted them. Her lips were trembling and -her eyes dim with tears as she took up her pen again. - -“I will not deny,” she wrote, “that the picture you draw of a South -in which men and women would make the highest and finest kind of -civilization, is very attractive to me. Or, rather, it would be if -your beautiful social order were not rooted in the hideous slime of -slavery. I cannot believe that it would endure, or that it would be -anything but a curse to the world as long as beneath it were the -groans, the chains, the unpaid toil and misery of so many thousands of -other men and women unfortunate enough to have been born with black -skins. It will never be possible for you to claim me as long as you are -a part of such a system. But I hope you will always remember me as your -truest friend, Rhoda Adeline Ware.” - -She always signed her name thus in her letters to him, although she -never used her middle name elsewhere, because it was a token of their -mothers’ friendship and so it seemed to her to belong specially -to their intercourse and to give to it a shy little fragrance of -exclusion, of separateness from everything else. - -But when she had finished she pushed it all aside and dropped her face -on her arm and her whole body trembled with a long, deep sob. Her heart -was answering the call of his, which she had heard and refused to -heed, through every line of his letters. They were so far apart, their -faces were set toward such hostile ideals! And yet across that deep -gulf their spirits clamored and their bodies yearned for presence, for -companionship, each for its mate. Through a blur of tears she took up -her pen and groped for a fresh sheet of paper. - -“Oh, Jeff, Jeff,” her pen was flying across the page, “how will it -be possible to endure this separation longer? Surely it is wrong for -people who love as we do to tear themselves apart like this. I cannot -endure it, and yet I cannot consent. Come then, and carry me away in -spite of myself.” Ah, it was a relief to give way to her feelings, to -write the things she longed to say, even though she did not intend -that he should ever read them. The pain in her face, the drawn look of -mental suffering, began to fade out of it. “Tie my feet and my arms, -if you must, so that I cannot run from you. Stop my lips with kisses, -so that I cannot say I will not go. Take me in your arms and carry me -away, anywhere, but do not let me deny our love any longer.” - -It was the cry of the primitive woman, whose sane instinct for the -strong mate lives on through all the thousand and one denials and -perversions of civilization. From the days when courtship was seizure, -and first choice belonged to the strongest, has the wish to be won in -spite of herself lived on in the heart of woman. It has been buried -deep and ever deeper beneath the accruing refinements of humanity, and -forced to find dwarfed expression in the subterfuges with which the -civilized woman evades and refuses her wooer, that finally she may make -pretense of her unwilling capture. But now, from beneath the depths of -a million years, it rose suddenly to the surface of a strong woman’s -heart and overpowered all her strength. - -Her hand was shaking and her bosom heaving as she put the sheet to one -side. There was a knock at the door and Charlotte’s voice called out: -“Rhoda! Please let me have some of your paper. I’ve used mine all up.” - -Opening her door a mere crack she handed out paper and envelopes, -for she had no wish to give her sister’s inquiring mind a chance to -speculate upon the reason for her agitated countenance. But it was only -a moment more, with a little resolute drawing in of her breath and a -pressure of her lips, and a minute or two before the mirror, until her -composure was restored. Then she heard her mother in the hall: “Come, -Rhoda! Come, Charlotte! Dinner’s ready!” - -“Yes, mother, in just a minute,” she called back. Jeff’s letters were -quickly laid away in their box. Then she gathered up the sheets of -her own letter and hurriedly folded them into the envelope, which she -addressed and sealed. For after dinner she was going to a meeting -of the anti-slavery sewing circle. The discarded sheets she twisted -together and tossed into the fire. - - - - -CHAPTER XV - - -At the dinner table Mrs. Ware’s eyes rested with loving anxiety -upon her first-born. “She is surely growing thinner and paler,” was -her motherly thought. “Poor child! If she would only give up to her -love how much happier she would be! It’s just eating out her heart, -I know it is! If Jeff would take hold of her as Amos did of me--” -and she glanced across the table at her husband, who in the grave -responsibility of his middle age seemed far enough removed from the -impetuous and masterful lover of her girlhood. - -Quickly trailing upon the thought came recollection of that ride of -which she had told Rhoda and Jeff, and then a wave of memories of -his ardent courtship swept over and softened her heart. The coldness -and resentment of the last few months were buried, for the moment, -underneath their warmth and color, and her eyes sought his face again -with more of fondness in their expression than he had seen there in -many a day. Then her mind went back to her daughter. - -“But I reckon that wouldn’t answer with Rhoda, after all,” she told -herself. “She’s so different. But I really believe she’s beginning to -feel more like giving up. The way she looked when she read his last -letter to me and when we talked about him yesterday--yes, she’s surely -finding out how much she really cares. If Jeff were to come up again -now, perhaps--I’ll write to him and tell him to come!” - -The persuasion that perhaps the matter would come out all right added -to the good feeling toward her husband already induced by her memories, -and when they rose from the table she moved to his side and looked up -into his face with a little glow of tenderness and affection in her -own. With quick response he rested a hand upon her shoulder. - -“Which way are you going this afternoon, Amos?” she asked. - -“First to the Winslows, after I keep my office hour. Harriet is sick.” - -“Oh, poor little thing! I’ll go over with you. I must write a letter -now, but if you’ll call me when you’re ready to go I’ll come down at -once and we can drive past the post-office.” - -It was the first time in many weeks that she had wished to drive with -him and he stooped and kissed her, saying, “I’ll be glad to have you, -Emily.” - -With her letter in her pocket Rhoda hurried away, past the post-office, -to the meeting of the sewing circle, at Mrs. Hardaker’s home. The -members had planned to put in a particularly busy afternoon, for -the coming of spring would be sure to bring with it an increase in -the number of refugees and they must have ready plenty of clothing -suitable for warm weather. - -Charlotte went back to her room and was soon absorbed in a composition -that seemed to perplex her much. She wrote a few lines or words upon -sheet after sheet, then frowned and shook her head and tore up and -threw aside one after another until her table was littered with them. -But at last, after much knitting of her brows and tapping with her gold -pencil, she appeared satisfied with what she had done and copied it, in -a few lines across the middle of the page, upon a sheet of the paper -borrowed from Rhoda. - -As she read it again, her eyes twinkled and her chin tilted to its most -rebellious angle. “I reckon mother would put her foot down hard if -she knew about it,” she said to herself, and then pursed her lips and -whistled a few notes. “And Rhoda would think it a very shocking thing -for me to do. But I don’t care, I’m going to. I reckon father wouldn’t -mind--indeed, I’m sure he’d be pleased. Yes, father would be glad -enough if Jeff should-- So it’s all right.” She giggled softly and the -look of amusement deepened on her face as she addressed the envelope. - -“There!” she exclaimed as she sealed the letter, “now there’ll be -some fun!” Springing to her feet she danced about the room, stopping -in front of the mirror after a few steps to practise tilting her -hoopskirts, without seeming to do so, at a higher angle than she had -ever dared before. - -Mrs. Ware, starting downstairs, in bonnet and shawl, with her letter in -her pocket, heard a shriek from Charlotte’s room. “What’s the matter, -dearie?” she called in quick alarm, and opened the door. - -Charlotte was standing on a chair in front of her closet door, her -skirts drawn up to her knees, her two plump calves and slender ankles -and trim little feet trembling with the agitation which shrilled in her -voice: “Oh, mother, there’s a mouse in my closet!” - -“Oh, is that all, honey! My heart was in my throat, for I thought you -must have half-killed yourself. Get Bully Brooks and shut him up in -your room. He’s getting to be a fine mouser. Dress yourself, honey, and -look for him. I’d bring him up for you, but your father’s waiting for -me and I must hurry. Good-by, dear. I’ll be back in two or three hours.” - -With anxious haste and many apprehensive glances at the harboring -closet, now closed and locked, Charlotte dressed herself and hurried -down stairs. “Do you know where Bully Brooks is?” she asked of Lizzie -in the kitchen. - -“Dat good-fo’-nuthin’ cat?” teased Lizzie, with a broad grin at -Charlotte’s pantomimic threats of displeasure and retaliation. “I done -see him jess now streakin’ out to’d de bahn wif his tail in de air, -like he was totin’ a flag at de head of a percession.” - -Charlotte sped down the walk to the barn and looked all about and -called softly, “Bully Brooks! Bully Brooks!” The door leading from the -barn into the woodshed was open and she thought, “Maybe he’s gone in -there.” - -“My! What a lot of wood we’ve used this winter!” she said to herself. -“The last time I was in here, last fall, the shed was nearly full. And -now there’s only that pile in the middle.” She moved toward the back of -the inclosure, her gaze searching the corners, then falling upon the -irregularly piled sticks at the back of the neat cords. - -“There he is!” she exclaimed softly, as she saw a gray tail sticking -out from between the logs. Speedily she bore down upon him. “Here, ‘yo’ -good-fo’-nuthin’ cat,’” she muttered, “come out here.” She made a grab -for his tail, but he whisked it suddenly aside, and went on, threading -his way between the chunks of wood, his head stretched out and nostrils -working. - -“Oh, you think you smell something, do you? Well, just come right along -with me and see what you can smell in my room.” But she could not quite -reach him, and she began tossing to one side the smaller sticks. In a -moment her eyes fell upon the boarding of the hidden room. “What can -that be?” she wondered, pausing in her work. With Charlotte, to have -her curiosity aroused was only to fire her determination to have it -assuaged. So now she eagerly threw out of the way the remaining pieces -and saw plainly the tiny house. “There’s a door in it!” she whispered, -and straight-way stepped up and peeped in. - -There she saw the negro runaway asleep upon the straw pallet. On the -bench were the remains of his dinner, with pans and plates and cups -which she recognized as having come from their own cupboard. - -For a moment she stared, bewildered. Then, as the boy stirred in his -sleep, she picked up Bully Brooks, shut the door softly and hurried -back to her room. Her thoughts darted at once to the heart of the -mystery. - -“They’re stealing niggers, that’s what they’re doing, father and Rhoda! -My! It’s worse than stealing horses, or money!” Her face was hot with -indignation and her eyes blazing. “They ought to be arrested, even if -they are my father and sister. Why, it might be one of Jeff’s niggers -they’re stealing. Just think of it! Nigger thieves! They ought to be -punished--they deserve to go to prison--and they would, too, if it was -known!” - -She stopped in the midst of her fuming as an idea flashed across her -mind. It took her breath away for a moment. Then she drew back from it -with a little feeling of repugnance. But in a moment more her busy, -resentful thought was hovering around it, experimenting with it, -considering it with more and more of favor. - -“There’s no telling how many slaves they’ve hidden in there and sent on -to Canada. Thousands of dollars worth, it’s likely. And their owners -just raking the country and spending money trying to find them. Oh, -it’s a shame the way these black abolitionists act! Father and Rhoda -are just as bad as any of them. Nigger thieves! O, my! And that nigger -out in the woodshed, he belongs to somebody just exactly the same as -if he was a horse or a cow. He ought to be taken back. He’s somebody’s -property, and it’s wrong and against the law to steal him, or to help -anybody else to steal him. If I don’t tell somebody that he’s here, so -he can be taken back to his owner, I’ll be a nigger-thief, just the -same as they are.” - -She tied her bonnet under her chin, adjusted her cape around her -shoulders, took a last look in the glass, and turned toward the door. -Her eyes chanced to fall upon the letter, lying on the table. - -“O, my goodness, I’m about to forget that!” she exclaimed, seizing the -missive. She giggled and tilted her chin and said aloud, “Yes, I shall, -I shall do it!” Then she touched her lips to the superscription and -airily waved the envelope toward the south. With another gay little -laugh she tucked it into her pocket. And so it happened that when the -mail-bag left the Hillside post-office that afternoon it carried three -letters for Jefferson Delavan. - -As she came out of the post-office Charlotte found herself face to face -with her admirer, Billy Saunders. “Is Susie at home?” she asked. - -“Yes, and expecting you. Are you going there?” He turned and walked up -the street at her side. Her cheeks still showed a heightened color and -the fires of her indignation glowed in her eyes. “You’re looking mighty -pretty this afternoon, Charlotte. What’s happened?” - -“What’s happened, indeed!” Charlotte tossed her head. “Does there have -to be a wedding, or a funeral, or a steamboat accident before I deserve -a compliment?” - -“No, indeed! You always deserve more compliments than I have sense -enough to think of. But you look excited, as if something unusual had -happened.” - -Charlotte turned toward him, her heart swelling with excitement over -the momentous secret she had discovered. At this final moment it was -chiefly the childish need of sharing her knowledge that urged her to -speech. “Say, Billy, can you keep a secret?” - -“As well as you can, I reckon.” - -“I’ve just got to tell somebody, or I’ll fly into a thousand pieces!” - -“Don’t do that!” he begged in mock alarm. “Out with it, and save the -pieces!” - -“Well, then, there’s a nigger in our woodpile!” - -A flash crossed his face. “What do you mean?” he ejaculated, stopping -short. - -“Just what I say. He’s hid among the wood in our woodshed. There’s a -little house there.” - -“Well--” he hesitated over his answer as they walked on. “I reckon it’s -all right,” he hazarded. But he was thinking rapidly. Here, in all -likelihood, was the proof for which the pro-slavery sympathizers had -long been watching. Dr. Ware’s outspoken sentiments and his activity in -the anti-slavery movement had caused them to suspect he was connected -with Underground operations. - -“Are you sure you weren’t dreaming?” he asked jocularly. “When did you -see him and what was he doing?” - -“Do I usually dream around in the daytime, Billy Saunders? I saw him -about an hour ago and he was sound asleep. And if you think I don’t -know a nigger when I see one you can go and look for yourself!” - -They had reached the Saunders gate and he lifted his hat in farewell. -“Remember you’re to keep that secret,” she called after him, in -appeasement of a sudden compunction. - -“Oh, I can keep a secret as well as you can,” he laughed back. Secretly -a little troubled by his answer, but saying to herself defiantly, -“Well, they deserve whatever happens, anyway!” she went into the -house. He quickened his steps to the office of the United States -marshal. - -At the home of Mrs. Hardaker the members of the anti-slavery sewing -circle were busy over their needles when Rhoda, from her seat near -a front window, saw Horace dash up the street in a buggy. Springing -out, he came up the front walk almost on a run. He saw her face at the -window and beckoned. She went out and met him at the front door. - -“Is there any U. G. baggage at your house, Rhoda?” he asked at once in -low, anxious tones. - -“Yes. A young man came late last night and has been sleeping all day.” - -“Then that’s it! I just now discovered that Marshal Hanscomb was on the -track of something, and I was afraid it might be there! I’ve got a case -in court that will be called in ten minutes, but I borrowed this buggy -from my client and rushed over here. Is your father at home?” - -“No. I’ve got to go and get him away.” She was hurrying into her bonnet -and wrap. - -“You’d better let me--” - -“No, no. You can’t leave your case. That would be too suspicious. I’ll -manage it.” - -“Don’t walk home--take this buggy.” They were already rushing to the -gate and he went on as he assisted her to the seat: “There’s not a -minute to lose. Hanscomb’s getting ready now to start out with his -men.” - -She was soon in the cross street upon which backed their row of -outbuildings. Here a wide door gave entrance to the woodshed. It was -kept padlocked and she had to waste a few minutes finding Jim to unlock -the door. The young negro, dazed by this sudden awakening to danger, -was hustled into the buggy, a small, uncovered, box-seated vehicle. -Rhoda made him double up in the little space at her feet and covered -him with a carriage rug. Then over her own lap and down over him she -spread an ample robe, which Jim hastily tucked in at the sides. - -“I’ll try to reach Gilbertson’s with him,” she said to the faithful -black man as the horse sprang forward at her whip’s touch. She made -a détour around several blocks and struck into the street leading to -the country in the first valley beyond the house. This lost several -minutes at the start, but she reflected that if the marshal should -arrive in time to see her driving straight away from the house he might -be suspicious enough to make chase at once. As it was, one of his men, -on guard at their gate, saw her buggy as it turned from a cross street -into the country road, but, at the moment, thought nothing of it. -Looking back, she saw the men ride up to their gate and knew that they -would search the house. - -“They’ll have their trouble for their pains,” she thought. “But wasn’t -it a narrow chance! You poor boy, I’m going to save you, anyway!” - -She wondered what hint had come to the marshal’s ears, and decided it -must have been suspicion rather than actual knowledge that had brought -him to search their house at this particular time. Most likely the -fugitive had been seen on his way to their house by some of the many -eyes ever on the alert for such as he, and her father’s reputation as a -strong anti-slavery man and abolitionist had given Marshal Hanscomb a -pretext. - -“But he’ll never think of looking in the woodpile,” she told herself -with a smile of satisfaction. “That secret is perfectly safe, for -nobody knows it but us and Horace. Our little hiding place will be as -safe as ever, even if they do search the house!” - -She looked back anxiously from the top of the high hill, whence the -road entered a sparsely wooded belt of country, and saw that the horses -were still hitched at their side gate. “I’m getting a good start, -even if they do follow me,” she reflected, “and I guess I can make -Gilbertson’s.” - -But the horse was a slow traveler and, although she urged him -constantly with voice and whip, to Rhoda’s anxious eyes they seemed to -cover the ground at but a snail’s pace. She thought they must have been -on the road nearly an hour when, from the top of a long, sloping hill, -she glanced backward and saw a party of four mounted men crossing the -rise she had just left behind. She recognized it at once as Marshal -Hanscomb and his aids. They were riding at a much faster pace than her -horse could equal and she knew that in a few minutes they would surely -overtake her and, in all probability, stop her and search the buggy. - -For one brief flash the thought crossed her mind what that would -mean--arrest, trial, and afterward imprisonment. But that fleeting -picture was instantly gone and in its place came the vision of the lad -at her feet being carried back to scourging and slavery. As she urged -the horse down the hill at a reckless pace she remembered that he was -about to be sold “down south”--that land of fears and terrors which to -the negroes of the border states was a doom almost as awful as was the -fiery gulf which threatened the impenitent sinner. It occurred to her -that the hill was the same one where she had met the slave, Andrew, on -that momentous day of the previous summer. - -“If I can make the bottom, and get him safe on that path to the cave -before they see him-- O, God, help me!” She thought of the boy’s old -slave mother, waiting and trusting for his promised help to rescue her -from bondage, and lashed her horse again. With a firm hand she held the -lines, her eyes on the road ahead and her touch guiding the horse along -the safest track. With a jerk they stopped short at the bottom of the -hill and she pulled away the coverings. - -“Get up, quick!” she warned. “They’ve followed us, and you must hide. -Climb that fence--do you see that path over there? Run down that--it -will bring you to a thicket of hazel bushes. Behind them, in the hill, -there is a cave. You’ll be safe there, until I or some one comes for -you. But don’t stir out of it until you hear the word, ‘Canada,’ three -times. They’re right behind us--run fast!” - -He needed no more warning, but was over the fence and speeding like a -deer along the faint pathway. There was no foliage now to screen his -figure and he would have to get beyond the bend in the hill, where the -path dropped downward again, before he would be safe from sight. Rhoda -gave one quick backward glance--they had not yet come into view. The -fleeing mulatto reached the big rock, turned it, and disappeared. With -a little catch in her breath she gathered up her lines, straightened -the carriage robes and urged her horse forward again. There was no need -of haste now, and the sooner the interview with the marshal was over -the sooner he would go back and leave her free to bring the boy from -his hiding place and go on her way. So she let the horse slowly climb -the rise, while she heard the pursuing party clattering down the other -slope. Presently they were beside her. - -“Miss Ware, by authority of the law, I shall have to search your -buggy,” said the marshal’s voice, at the wheel. One of his men rode to -the horse’s head and seized the bridle. - -“What for?” she asked, with well-simulated surprise. - -“You are under suspicion of concealing in it a fugitive slave. I know -that he was hidden in your woodshed”--Rhoda’s heart sank and she felt -her eyelids quiver--“as late as this afternoon. But you got him out -before we reached there, and came out on this road by a roundabout way. -We’ve had our eyes on your father for a long time. And now I reckon -we’ve caught him, and you too!” - -Rhoda looked at him and was able to command a smile. “Excuse me,” she -said politely, “but how many did you say you thought I had concealed in -this buggy?” - -“Only one,” the marshal answered curtly. “You can get out if you want -to while we examine it.” - -She jumped to the ground and stood by, smiling, while they took out the -rugs and looked under the seat. - -Disappointed glances passed from one to another. Evidently, they had -felt sure they would find the missing slave in her buggy. Rhoda took -off her wrap and shook it ostentatiously. “You see, I haven’t got him -concealed about my clothing. You can search my pocket too, if you -like,” she added innocently. - -“You’ve beat us this time, young lady,” he responded angrily, “but we -know what your father is up to, and you with him, and we’ll get you -yet.” - -She turned upon him with dignity. “May I ask, Mr. Hanscomb, that -you will finish your examination of this little buggy where there is -scarcely room for one, as soon as possible, so that I can go on. I am -on an errand for my father, and I would like to finish it and get home -before dark. Perhaps you would like to look under the horse’s collar -and split open the whip-stock.” - -The marshal flushed with annoyance. “All right. You can go on now. But -you’d better be careful about taking in any more niggers.” - -She drove slowly on up the hill and they brought their horses’ heads -together for a conference. She was trembling with anxiety lest it might -occur to them to search the woodland on the west of the road, and she -wanted to know what they were going to do before she would have to pass -out of sight down the other side of the hill. To gain time she dropped -her whip, and jumped out to get it. Then she adjusted a buckle in the -harness and examined a thill strap. A stolen glance let her see that -they were starting back toward the town. - -But now a new anxiety filled her. Did they know of the cave? Would they -think of it as a possible hiding place? The cave was such a little -one,--it was of no interest to any one but children--perhaps they had -never heard of it, or had forgotten it if they had. She longed to look -around and see if they stopped, but she feared to show interest in -their movements, lest she might renew their suspicions. Had the boy -left footprints as he ran from the buggy to the fence? She tried to -remember whether the ground there was hard or muddy, but could recall -nothing. In an agony of apprehension she reached the top of the hill -and started down the descent. - -“I must know, whatever happens,” she presently said to herself. -Stopping the horse she sprang out and ran back a little way, to -where her eyes could command the opposite hill. The horsemen were -disappearing over its crest. Her knees were shaking as she hurried back -to the buggy, but she pulled herself together and considered what would -be the best plan to get the fugitive out of the cave and on to the next -station. For she feared to go back openly now, lest some member of the -marshal’s party might return. A little farther on, she remembered, -was a cross way and striking off from this, a short distance to the -westward, an old wood road which ended near the cave. “It used to be -there,” she thought anxiously, “but I haven’t been down it since--oh, I -don’t know when! I’ll have to take chances on its being there yet.” - -But on the cross road she met farmer Gilbertson, in a big, deep-bedded -wagon filled with a load of loose hay. She told him of her narrow -escape. - -“You better drive in and get him in your little buggy,” he advised, -“and I’ll wait out here and take him home with me, under the hay. It’ll -be safe enough--this road ain’t traveled much.” - -It was not long until Rhoda was driving homeward again, deep joy in her -heart that the fugitive had escaped such imminent danger, but wondering -much how the marshal had discovered the secret of their woodshed. - - - - -CHAPTER XVI - - -When Mrs. Ware reached home that afternoon she found Marshal Hanscomb -and his men, baffled and angry, completing their search of the house. - -“Mr. Hanscomb, what does this mean?” she demanded. - -“It means that runaway niggers have been making a hiding place of your -house and that we’ve been barely too late to catch one.” - -“I assure you, Mr. Hanscomb, that nothing of the sort has been going -on in my house. Dr. Ware’s sympathies, it is true, are with the -anti-slavery cause, but he is not a nigger-stealer.” - -“If you think so, madam,”--there was the hint of a sneer in his -tone--“you’d better go out to the woodshed and look at that room built -into the middle of your woodpile and see how lately it’s been occupied.” - -She turned upon him a face of offended dignity. Her small, plump -figure, in its balloon-like skirt, stiffened with a haughtiness -which impressed even the angry marshal. “I trust, sir, that you have -satisfied yourself there is no one concealed in the house or on the -premises.” - -“We have, madam, for the present. We happened to be a few minutes too -late.” - -“Then I will bid you good-evenin’.” With a stately nod she left him, -going at once to her own room, behind whose closed door she remained -until her husband’s return. - -Rhoda and her father, coming from opposite directions, drove up to -their east gate at the same moment, in the red glow of a March sunset. -She told him hurriedly of the happenings of the afternoon and of the -narrow chance by which she had finally saved the mulatto lad from -recapture. At the veranda steps Jim met them, with an excited account -of the marshal’s visit and his search of the house. He evidently knew -of the woodshed hiding place, the man said, for he went to it at once. - -“Was any one at home?” - -“No, sah, nobody but Lizzie and me. But Mrs. Ware, she done come before -they leave.” - -“Then she knows now,” Rhoda told herself. “Oh, to think she had to find -it out that way!” - -They walked silently down the veranda, avoiding each other’s eyes, -and entered at the front door. Mrs. Ware was coming down the stairs. -Rhoda stopped short, but her father walked swiftly past her and held -out his hand to his wife. She could not see his face, but the look -on her mother’s countenance stabbed her to the heart. In it the girl -read resentful inquiry, wounded faith, reproachful love. They seemed -oblivious of her, as Mrs. Ware stood looking into her husband’s face -with that hurt look upon her own. She did not take the hand he held -out. Then Rhoda saw him sweep her close to his side and heard him say -in a choking voice, “Come, Emily!” He led her into the living-room and -closed the door. - -What passed between them there Rhoda never knew--what confessions -of outraged rights, what heart-barings of living tenderness, what -recognitions of inner imperatives, what renewals of the bonds of love -and trust. She crouched where she had dropped on the stair step, -miserably conscious that this was the climax of the estrangement -over her between her father and mother, feeling keenly that it had -been her mother’s right to know the use that was being made of her -home, appreciating her father’s motive in wishing to keep it hidden, -remorseful for the wound her share in it would deal her mother’s heart, -but unable to give up one jot of her conviction that what she and her -father had been doing had been demanded of them by the highest laws of -God and the most sacred rights of man. - -In a jumble of thought and feeling, swept by waves of passionate -sympathy and compassion for both of the two within that closed door, -Rhoda sat huddled on the stairs until her mother came out. “Mother!” -she called, springing up and holding out her hands. - -Mrs. Ware came up and took them, saying simply, “How cold they are, -honey!” and pressed them to her breast. In the dim light the girl could -see that her face was very pale but that her eyes were shining with -calm happiness. - -“Oh, mother! We both felt that you ought to know about it--” - -“It’s all right, dear child. I would rather your father had confided in -me from the first--” - -“It wasn’t that he doubted you, mother! Oh, don’t think that! He knew -you would be loyal to him--but he thought it might give you pain to -know--” - -“Yes, honey, I understand--I appreciate all that. But don’t you see, -dear, I would have liked to be trusted by my husband, even if it had -hurt--a little?” - -“It was your right to know, mother.” - -“Perhaps I don’t think so much about that as you would, Rhoda, but--a -woman who loves needs to feel that she is trusted as well as loved. -But it’s all right now. I know how you and your father feel about it, -that you are doing only what seems to you right, although to me, dear -child, it seems very wrong. I don’t want to know any more about it than -I must, and you mustn’t expect me to help you in the least, but not for -the world, dearie, would I hinder you and your father from doing what -you think is right.” - -Rhoda bowed her head upon her mother’s shoulder whispering, “Dear -mother!” - -“Your father and I understand each other better now,” Mrs. Ware went -on in tender tones. “There has been some misunderstanding between us -about you and Jeff, but this has cleared it all up, and so I am glad -it happened. He has promised me that he will not try to influence you -in any way against marrying Jeff. So you see now, dearie, that it is -possible, after all, for husband and wife to live together in love and -trust and happiness, even though they do hold opposite opinions about -slavery!” - -There was a sound of quick, light footsteps across the veranda and -Charlotte came in breezily, cheeks glowing and eyes sparkling. “What’s -the matter?” she exclaimed. “What’s happened?” Then sudden recollection -came to her of what probably had happened and of her own share in it, -and a look of confusion crossed her face. Rhoda saw it and instant -suspicion was born in her mind that here was the medium through which -information had reached the marshal. - -“Sister, was it you?” she asked on the impulse, her tone gentle but -reproachful. - -“Was what me?” Charlotte flared back. - -“I think you know what I mean.” - -Dr. Ware had come out of the living-room and was standing in the -doorway. Charlotte threw at him a coaxing, appealing glance. - -“You’d better tell the truth about it, Charlotte,” he responded. The -girl shrank back a little at his tone and something of surprise crossed -her face. Never before had he spoken to her with so near an approach -to sternness. His large, calm eyes were upon her, dispassionate but -disapproving. She could not withstand their compulsion. - -“Well, then, I did,” she exclaimed defiantly, tossing her head as she -took a step forward. “And I think I did no more than was right and I’m -glad I did it. When people are disobeying the laws and are criminals, -even if they are your own people--” - -“There, child, that will do,” her father interrupted, lifting an -admonishing hand. “Remember, please, that you are only eighteen, and -that your father is in no need of moral instruction at your hands. I -understand how you feel about this question and I am perfectly willing -for you to believe as seems to you right. I expect you to grant the -same privilege to me and to every other member of my family. And as -long as you live under your father’s roof, my daughter, he has the -right also to expect from you loyalty to his interests. Do you think I -shall have it hereafter?” - -Charlotte burst into tears. In all her saucy little life no one had -ever spoken to her with such severity. “I only told Billy Saunders,” -she sobbed, “and I told him not to tell!” - -Instantly her father was beside her, patting her shoulder, an arm -about her waist. “There, there!” he soothed. “I didn’t suppose you -realized what you were doing. As it happened, no great harm came of it. -Just remember, after this, that it is not your duty to sit in judgment -on my actions. Then we shall all move along as happily as ever.” - -When Rhoda went to her room and her eyes fell upon her writing table, -sudden misgiving caught her breath. She had not stopped to make it -tidy, after her letter-writing in the morning, because of her hurried -departure for the sewing circle, and its unaccustomed disorder brought -sharply to her mind the letter she had written. And that other -sheet--had she destroyed it, as she meant to do? She looked the table -over hastily, shuffling the clean sheets of paper in her hand. “How -silly!” she thought. “Of course I destroyed it! I remember, I picked up -several sheets together that I didn’t want, and burned them, and that -was among them!” - -Still, for a moment, the uneasy fear persisted that perhaps she had put -it into her letter. She burned with shame at the thought that her lover -might read those words. Then with a sudden vault her mind faced about -and she felt herself almost exulting that at last he might know how -much she cared, that at last, in spite of herself she had surrendered. - -“If I did send it,” she thought as she sat at her window, in the dark, -“he will come and I shall have to give up.” - -Her mother’s words recurred to her: “You see that it is possible for -husband and wife to live together in love and trust and happiness, even -though they do hold opposite opinions about slavery.” They would be -happy--ah, no doubt about that! And perhaps, if they were married and -constantly together, she could make Jeff see the wrongs of slavery. -She could point out to him specific instances of injustice and rouse -that side of his conscience which now seemed to be dead. He had such -a fine, noble nature in all other things--it was only because he had -been brought up in this belief and had always been accustomed to taking -slavery for granted. With his great love for her she would surely be -able to exert some influence over him, and she would use it all to one -end. - -She knew of other men who had been slaveholders but, becoming convinced -that it was wrong, had freed their slaves and joined the anti-slavery -ranks. Some, even, worked with the Underground Railroad. What a -splendid thing it would be if she could win him over to the side of -liberty! For such a result, she told herself, she would be willing to -crucify her conscience for a little while and be a part of the thing -she abhorred. - -She slept that night with a smile on her face and when she wakened in -the morning her first consciousness was of an unusual lightness and -happiness in her heart. Then she remembered, and flushed to her brows. - -“But it was all true,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to send it, and -I’m sure I didn’t. But I--almost--wish I had.” - - - - -CHAPTER XVII - - -When Jefferson Delavan received the mail containing the three letters -from Hillside his lover’s eye saw at once the envelope bearing the -handwriting of Rhoda Ware. Everything else was pushed aside and this -was hastily torn open. He turned the sheets over and swept them with -a hungry look, as though he would devour all their contents at one -glance. And so it happened that before he had read another line his -eyes fell upon the page on which she had poured out her heart, which -she thought she had burned--but almost wished she had not. - -He had to read it twice before he could believe that his eyes were -not playing him some trick. Then he sprang up joyously, with a great -light in his face, and ordered his horse. The rest of his mail, even -to Rhoda’s letter, was thrust into his pocket, while he made ready for -immediate journey. Slaves went scurrying hither and thither, urged to -unaccustomed speed by their master’s impetuous commands, and in less -than half an hour he was in his saddle. - -He struck across the country on the turnpike road straight for the -Kentucky shore of the Ohio river opposite Hillside. Quicker time -might have been possible by the more roundabout route by railroad to -Cincinnati, but his only thought was that thus he was headed directly -toward the white house on the hill. - -He galloped his horse for an hour or two before he remembered that -it would be the part of wisdom not to take too much out of it at the -start, laughed aloud as he slowed down, slapped its neck in sheer joy, -and sang lustily the tale of “Lord Lovell.” Then he remembered, that -he had not read the whole of Rhoda’s letter. He drew it forth, and was -reminded in so doing that he had other letters in his pocket. But they -could wait. He plunged into hers and read it eagerly through, dropping -the bridle and allowing his horse to take a slower pace. Now and then -he smiled or gave a little, tender laugh, as he came upon a mirthful -sally, or again he frowned thoughtfully and shook his head at her -argument. And presently he was staring in bewilderment at the closing -paragraph with its denial of his suit. His heart sank as he hastily -searched out the other sheet for reassurance. Yes, there it was, and -there could be no mistaking the longing call of her heart that spoke so -piteously through its brief lines. - -“This other, she wrote with her head,” he told himself, “and then -her heart gave up and made her write this. Ah, the dear, dear girl! -It’s like her to surrender like this, so completely, and even against -herself when she lets her heart get the upper hand. Oh, my arms will -be all the tying she’ll need, and there’ll be kisses enough to stop her -mouth as long as we live!” - -With a caressing touch he put the missive away in an inner pocket -and urged his horse on again, smiling and humming softly. At last he -recalled the other letters. Mrs. Ware’s he read first and found in it -confirmation of the view he had already taken of Rhoda’s surprising -message. The girl was evidently longing for sight of him once more, her -mother said, and if he were to come soon perhaps he could storm her -stubborn heart. He laughed again and exclaimed aloud, “Yes, indeed, I’m -coming, and if there’s any more storming necessary--” and the sentence -broke off into another exultant laugh. - -Then he bethought him of the other letter. It was without date line or -signature and with puzzled eyes he read its few lines, in the middle of -the page: “When true hearts pine and gallants stay away, then what can -ladies do? Alas the day, they can but pine when cruel gallants come no -more!” - -He looked the sheet all over and examined the envelope inside and out -to find some clue to its authorship. But there was not the least sign, -and the postmark was indistinct. It was written upon the same kind of -paper and inclosed in the same kind of envelope as Rhoda always used, -but the handwriting was not Rhoda’s, and it seemed so unlike her to -send such an indirect, silly little message that he said at once, “No, -it’s not from Rhoda.” But who could there be among his friends or -acquaintance likely to take such interest in his courtship, of which so -few of them knew, and send him this sort of romantic hint? Of course, -it might be from some friend of Rhoda’s in whom she had confided. - -“It must be that little rogue of a Charlotte!” he presently exclaimed. -“She has sharp eyes in her head, that’s plain enough, always, and she -has seen how it is with her sister and thought she might help things -along by giving me a hint. Bless her heart! She’s a dear little thing, -if she does like to flirt, and after Rhoda and I are married we’ll -bring her down to Fairmount and give her the best time she’s had in all -her life and perhaps marry her to Lloyd Corey or Frank Morehead.” - -While this was not the outcome of her anonymous message which Charlotte -hoped to bring about when she penned it, she would perhaps have been -as willing to accept it, had her thoughts ranged so far ahead, as the -one she planned to compass. Nor would she have been taken aback had -she known, while she fluttered about on the tiptoe of expectancy for -whatever might happen, with what ardor Jefferson Delavan’s thoughts -were turning toward Rhoda on his northward ride. - -If her missive induced him to come again to their house what did it -matter whether he thought its words referred to Rhoda or to some one -else? Since Rhoda was determined she would not marry him, he would -soon find out his mistake and would be quite willing to look for -consolation elsewhere. Had he not shown her every attention on the trip -to Cincinnati? And when had she failed to set a man’s heart aflame, if -she had really wanted to witness the conflagration? Let her once more -have the opportunity--and she smiled at the brown eyes reflected back -from her mirror, confident that they had lost none of their power. - -He would be able to reach the Ohio river by the morrow’s night, Delavan -thought, and the next morning he would cross over and hasten up the -hill to claim the sweet promise that beckoned to him from that glimpse -of Rhoda’s secret heart. As he mused over her words, and the wonder of -it that she should at last have called him, it occurred to him that -perhaps she had not meant to put that sheet into her letter. Perhaps -she had merely written down that revelation of her feelings as ease to -her own aching heart. But he laughed joyously. - -“She’s let me know how it is with her, whether she meant to send it or -not, and I’ll do just as she begs me to, this time!” - -And so he urged his horse onward, his glowing heart beating high in -his breast, sure of the happiness waiting for him at the end of his -journey, and counting off the lessening hours that lay between him and -the banks of the river. But that night there came a violent rainstorm -that carried away bridges and left swollen streams rushing through -overflowed valleys. It delayed him two days, so that it was not until -the sixth day after Rhoda penned her letter that he reached Hillside. - -And in the meantime the Supreme Court had announced its decision in -the Dred Scott case, delighting the South, staggering the North, and -fanning to still higher and hotter flame the fires of contention over -the ever-burning question of slavery. Jefferson Delavan heard the news -as he fumed over his delay, storm-bound in the hotel of a country -town. He and half a dozen other slave owners from the town and near-by -plantations, who dropped into the hotel during the evening, rejoiced -over the victory as they sat around a bowl of punch. - -“This will put an end to the whole controversy and give the country -peace at last,” said Delavan. - -“It knocks the feet from under the Republican party,” declared another. -“They’ll be capable of no more mischief now!” - -“Yes, gentlemen,” exclaimed a third, “it surely ties the hands of the -northern fanatics. They can no longer stop our growth!” - -“Under the protection of this decision,” Delavan followed on, “we can -take our slaves wherever we like, and, with the northern Democracy -becoming more and more favorable to us, we shall soon win back the -ground we have lost!” - -“Nor will our growth be all in that direction!” said another, slowly -and significantly. - -“No, indeed!” was Delavan’s quick response. “Mexico and Central America -will be ours for the taking as soon as we realize our strength. -Gentlemen!” He sprang to his feet, his face glowing with enthusiasm, -his glass held high. “Gentlemen, I give you a toast: To the Republic of -the South, our own fair Land of Dixie, firm footed on the foundation of -slavery, and spreading wide wings North, South, East and West; her day -shall come soon and endure forever!” - -With shouts of approval the others were on their feet at once, drinking -the toast, cheering the sentiment, and waving hats, pipes, glasses, -whatever their hands could seize. And no ghost of a misgiving visited -Jefferson Delavan, in the midst of their exultant rejoicing, as to how -that decision might affect his personal fate. - -To Rhoda Ware, as she looked back upon them, the days following that of -her adventure with the negro lad were like a beautiful dream. After her -one moment of apprehension she did not believe that she had put into -her letter the telltale sheet whereon she had poured out her heart. -She was sure she had burned it. But that instant of anxious fear that -her lover would read her confession had given to her traitor heart its -opportunity. In the brief respite of secret rejoicing she had allowed -it to take, it had leaped to the saddle and it would not give up again -to her mind and conscience the right of command. So she submitted to -the sway of her love and battled with it no more. - -“He will know--he will feel it, even though I didn’t send what I -wrote,” she whispered to herself. “And if he doesn’t come soon, I will -write to him--and tell him--yes, I’ll tell him to come!” - -She spent much time alone in her room, seated at a southern window that -commanded a view of the street leading up from the steamboat landing, -the little bundle of letters and the faded rose held caressingly in her -hands. It happened that no fugitives came to their door during this -time, or she might have suffered sudden awakening from her dream. - -As it was, she thought of nothing but the coming of her lover and her -surrender to his suit. Now and then her reverie strayed on into the -future and she pictured their life together in Jeff’s beautiful home at -Fairmount, with the slaves all freed and giving faithful service for -wages. Staying so much apart and living in her own rose-colored dreams, -the strenuous enthusiasms of the recent months, even her immediate -surroundings, seemed to lose their reality. The same emotional force -in her character which enabled her to enter with such zeal into the -anti-slavery work and to be so absorbed by it that she could sacrifice -her love upon its altar made it possible now,--indeed, made it -inevitable,--when she had once given up to the opposing influence, that -she should be swept by its forceful current to the other extreme. - -A new expression came into her face. Her dreams drew a soft and tender -veil across the usually intent and serious look of her eyes, and all -her countenance glowed with her inner happiness. Her mother saw the -change in expression and demeanor with inward delight. For when it -came to the affections Mrs. Ware was able to interpret her daughter’s -feelings and actions with more surety than in matters of the mind and -conscience. - -Charlotte, in whose heart rankled resentment against her father and -sister for their anti-slavery views, their Underground work, and -the reproach that had been administered to her, noted the new look -on Rhoda’s face and said bitterly to herself: “Yes, I suppose she’s -getting hold of a whole pack of niggers to steal and send on to -Canada!” She told herself petulantly that she was no longer of any -consequence in their home and began to feel an angry sense of injury -at the bonds tacitly imposed upon her conduct by the ideas and actions -of her father and sister. She longed for some happening that would -take her away and put her into surroundings where she could feel her -accustomed sense of freedom and personal importance. - -And so, the wish being father to the conviction, Charlotte felt every -day more and more sure that Jefferson Delavan would soon reappear, -that Rhoda would refuse him again, and that then she could capture -his repulsed heart and speedily win from him a proposal of marriage. -She would hold him off a little while, and make him all the more -eager--that would be easy enough--and when at last she did consent, he -would of course want an early marriage, and to that, too, she would -reluctantly consent--“Oh, the sooner the better,” her thoughts broke -into sudden storm, “so that I can get away from this black abolition -hole!” - -Dr. Ware observed with surprise the look upon his daughter’s face and -the change in her manner. He felt the lessening of her ardor in their -mutual interests and was not slow to attribute her silence, her drawing -away from the life of the household and her self-absorbed, dreamlike -demeanor to its true cause. - -“Something has happened,” he said to himself, “that, for the time -being, has made her give up the struggle against her heart, and, -like a river that has burst through its dam, her love is overflowing -everything else in her nature. Well, I’m glad Delavan isn’t here now, -and I hope her conscience will get its head above water again before -she sees him. The good Lord grant that something happens to bring her -back to herself before it’s too late!” - -But he said nothing to his daughter, faithfully observing the pledge -he had made to his wife at their recent reconciliation. Nor did he and -Mrs. Ware speak to each other about it, although it was uppermost in -both their thoughts. The renewed tenderness between them was too sacred -for either to dare the risk of marring its bloom by even so much as an -allusion to a subject upon which they were so widely divided. - -On the fourth day of her surrender Rhoda sat at her window reading -a letter from her friend, Julia Hammerton. Her active spirit was -beginning to bestir itself again and as she finished the epistle she -stretched her arms above her head and with a little frown remembered -that she had that morning neglected one of her usual duties. Then, -“Dear me,” she exclaimed, “I’ve forgotten all about that for-- Oh, it -must be several days! I suppose mother has attended to it,” she rebuked -herself, and then smiled tenderly at the sunshine which filled all her -inner consciousness. - -“I’ve been very happy, these days,” she thought, “but I’m afraid I’ve -been awfully lazy and selfish too. I must go down now and get to work.” - -She looked out of the window and saw Horace Hardaker and the elder -Kimball, father of Walter and Lewis, coming up the hill. Her thought -reverted to the missive from Horace’s sister. - -“I’ll take Julia’s letter down and read it to them. There’s such a lot -of news from Kansas in it that will interest them. Dear Julia! Horace -ought to be proud of her--and he is, I know. She’s been so brave and so -true!” - -The hint of a shadow crossed her face as she looked absently at the -letter in her hand. From somewhere far back in her mind seemed to come -a faint question, Had she also been true? But she lifted her head -proudly with the quick answering thought: - -“Of course I am true. I shall not change my convictions the least -little bit, even if I do marry Jeff. And perhaps I can do more good as -his wife than I could in any other way.” - -“As the mistress of slaves!” came back the accusing whisper. - -In the office she found her father and the two others deeply engrossed -in conversation, their looks anxious and gloomy, but their manner -showing excitement. - -“Come in, Rhoda,” said Dr. Ware, as she hesitated at the door, “and -hear the bad news.” - -“Bad news! Oh, father, what is it?” - -“The Supreme Court has decided the Dred Scott case and the result is -even worse than we have feared. Chief Justice Taney has dragged his -official robes through slavery filth and given to the pro-slaveryites -everything they want!” - -“Oh, father--Horace! What does he say?” - -“The decision is,” answered Hardaker, “that a slave cannot be a -citizen--practically, that a nigger has no rights a white man is -bound to respect--that Congress has no right to prohibit slavery -in the territories, and that therefore the Missouri Compromise is -unconstitutional and void.” - -“It knocks the very breath out of the Republican party,” added Dr. -Ware. “Its existence is based on the effort to get Congress to forbid -slavery in the territories. So, now--where is it? Where are we?” - -“We are done for, all of us,” said Kimball, in hopeless tones. “It -has knocked the footing from under the whole anti-slavery fight. It -binds us hand and foot, and it looks now as if we might as well stop -fighting.” - -“Oh, no, Mr. Kimball!” Rhoda exclaimed. “Don’t say that! We must keep -on fighting as long as there’s one of us left!” - -“She’s right, Kimball!” said Dr. Ware, his glance resting for a moment -upon his daughter’s face. She looked up in some confusion at having -broken in so abruptly, and met his eyes. Cool and clear, they seemed to -be looking into her very heart and down in their gray depths as they -turned away she felt rather than saw a gleam of gratification. The -hot blood flushed her face, and conscience, that had just now barely -stirred under its rose-leaf coverlet, roused and began to tell her that -she too must keep on fighting. Had her father guessed how near she had -been to deserting their cause, she wondered. - -“Yet, she’s right,” Dr. Ware was repeating, with a thump of his fist on -the table. “We’ve got to find standing ground somewhere, and somehow -keep up the fight!” - -“Their next step will be to reopen the slave trade--they’re demanding -that already,” Kimball went on. “And then we shall have once more all -the horrors of the slave ships sheltered under the law and people -taught to regard the traffic as right because it is legal.” - -“Yes,” broke in Hardaker, “that’s the worst of these legalized -wrongs--the way they debauch the consciences of people. Look at the way -the northern Democrats are defending the right of property in slaves! A -few years ago they admitted slavery was wrong, but said it was here and -so we must make the best of it. Now they say it is all right and must -be protected and are tumbling over one another in their eagerness to -give the South everything she wants!” - -“Well, this decision gives her everything she wants now, and opens the -door for her to take anything else she may want later.” - -Kimball’s thin old hands were clenched together and his gray-bearded -face was sad with the hopelessness of age. For thirty years he had -been fighting with all his strength in the cause of the slave and he -had seen the anti-slavery sentiment grow from the conviction of a mere -handful of people to the determination of a mighty multitude. And now, -when at last it seemed as if they had almost reached the point where -at least the thing could be penned up in small space and its political -power taken from it, now had come this deadly blow, to nullify every -effort they could make. - -Rhoda knew what long years of endeavor and sacrifice he had spent -in the anti-slavery cause and how ardent had been his hope that he -might live to see slavery ended and the whole country made free. She -watched him now, her cheeks flushing and her heart responding with full -sympathy to the grief and despair that filled his breast. - -“If Congress,” he went on bitterly, “must recognize and defend the -master’s right to his slave wherever he takes him, then there can be no -hindrance to slavery in any part of this country, and Toombs and Davis -and all the rest of them can yet call the roll of their slaves in the -shadow of Bunker Hill monument, or any place else they wish. That, my -friends, is what this decision means!” - -His voice trembled and Rhoda saw in his eyes the tears of an old -man whose dearest hope had come to naught. She was conscious of a -remorseful shame, as though she herself had been in some measure -responsible for his grief and despair. For had she not, was her swift, -self-accusing thought, been ready to compromise with this monster? - -“No, no, Mr. Kimball, you mustn’t give up like that,” Hardaker was -exclaiming, “not while there’s one of us left to die fighting. And the -election last fall showed that there are more than a million of us, who -at least are ready to help. Rhoda’s got the right idea,” and he looked -at her with smiling approval. - -Again she blushed and turned her eyes away, feeling acutely that she -did not deserve this praise and miserably wondering if they would -despise her were she to tell them that she had been willing, only an -hour before, to become a slaveholder’s wife. - -“It seem to me,” Horace went on, “that we’ve got to go right on with -the popular propaganda against slavery. Why, this very decision of -Chief Justice Taney--it’s so atrocious and inhuman, it will be the -best campaign document we’ve ever had. We ought to circulate it by the -thousand! I’m not sure, friends, but it will be a good thing for us, in -the long run!” - -Dr. Ware smiled slightly. He was accustomed to the enthusiasm with -which Hardaker, in a dozen sentences, could convince himself of the -truth of a proposition which, five minutes before, he would have -flouted. Nevertheless, this idea appealed to him. - -“There’s a good deal in that, Horace,” he acquiesced, “and I think we’d -better take it up in the Rocky Mountain Club. But while we’re appealing -to the northern voters we mustn’t forget the South. We must extend and -increase our Underground work, because it is making slave property most -precarious all along the border states. The more slaves we can run off -the more uncertain the whole institution becomes, and the more angry we -make the South--and there’s nothing irritates them so much as this--the -sooner the crisis will come. War is the only possible solution of -this problem, friends. So I say, let’s bring on the crisis as soon as -possible, and fight it out!” - -At that moment there was a knock at the office door and a request for -Dr. Ware’s services in another part of the town. The two visitors went -down the hill again and Rhoda, invited by the bright sunshine, strolled -down the veranda and across the yard to the grape arbor. She wanted to -be alone and think matters over, find where she stood and allay the -turmoil between her heart and her conscience. - -As she walked down the path she saw that Jim was already making -preparations for the spring. This great bed was to be filled again with -white petunias--they had liked it so much last year. Again she seemed -to sense their odor, as on that June night, and to hear a voice vibrant -with tones of love. No, she could not think here,--her heart would -not let her. She turned away and hurried to her room. But there too -every inch of space was like a seductive voice calling to her with the -memories of the last few days. With a sudden grip upon herself--a quick -indrawing of breath and a pressure of teeth upon her lip, the outward -signs of inner process of taking herself in hand--she went deliberately -downstairs and out into the woodshed. - -There she sat down upon a chunk of wood and faced the little room, with -its door heedlessly exposed and open, just as the marshal had left it. -The sight stung her, as she had known it would, with an accusation of -apostasy. But her spirit rose up quickly in self-defense. - -“No, I didn’t desert our cause, even in thought,” she declared to -herself. “I’m not so bad as that, I hope. I only thought I could marry -Jeff and still help it along. But I’m afraid I couldn’t. Yes, I know -what mother said, and for a little while it did seem possible--just -because I wanted it so much, I suppose. But mother and I are so -different. I couldn’t be in the midst of things that I thought were -wrong without trying to make them right. Jeff would free his slaves if -I asked him to--I’m sure he would.” - -She lingered over the thought a moment and a fond smile curved her -lips. “Yes, I’m sure he would, and I wouldn’t have to be a mistress -of slaves. But that isn’t the whole of it. He told me once, and it’s -been in all his letters, how wrapped up he is in the interests of the -South. And that means slavery. It’s his own section and what they think -are their rights, against all the rest of us and against freedom, and -eternal right, and the upward progress of the world. We’d still be -just as much divided and opposed to each other as ever.” - -The memory returned to her of her father sitting at his desk, his face -drawn with sadness and sadness in his voice, as she had seen him on -that evening in the previous autumn when she had asked if her mother -could not be told what they were doing. She shivered a little. - -“No, I shouldn’t like to think of my husband feeling like that, knowing -that he couldn’t tell me of his dearest hopes and plans and ambitions, -and feel sure of my sympathy. No, that wouldn’t be being married, -really married.” - -A little longer she sat with her chin in her hand and stared at -the open door of the tiny room. Her face gradually took on a stern -expression that made it, notwithstanding its youthful smoothness, -curiously like her father’s. - -“No,” she said aloud as she rose, “it can’t be. It’s just as impossible -still as it has been all the time--even if I did think for a little -while--” - -Her face suddenly melted into tenderness and her voice sank to a -whisper. “It was a lovely dream while it lasted, and I’m glad--it -didn’t do anybody, not even me, any harm, and I’m glad--yes, I’m -glad--I had it!” The little lines at the corners of her mouth deepened, -her upper lip lifted, and her flashing smile lit up her countenance -and shone in her eyes. “It’s almost like looking back on having been -married for a little while!” she thought. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII - - -“Rhoda,” called Mrs. Ware from the veranda steps, “will you come here, -please?” - -Rhoda was standing between the rows of lilac that hedged the walk to -the front gate, inspecting the swelling buds and saying to herself -with pleasure that they looked as if they would bloom early that year. -The lilac was her best-loved flower and these two lines of bushes had -been planted because of her pleading, ten years before. Every season -she watched anxiously for the buds to show sign of returning life, and -Charlotte declared that after they began to swell she measured them -with a tape line every day to mark their growth. When they bloomed she -kept bowls of the flowers all over the house and was rarely without a -spray in her hair or her dress. - -Mrs. Ware noted that her daughter’s step was not as brisk as usual and -saw that the glow was gone from her face, while into her eyes had come -a look of wistfulness. Believing she knew the cause, she longed to take -the girl in her arms and say, “Don’t worry, dear. He’ll be here soon, -I’m sure, for I wrote to him to come.” But she thought it best to keep -her own secrets and so what she said was: - -“Mrs. Winston has just sent word that little Harriet is worse and she -wants your father to come at once. He’s not likely to be back here -before noon. So I want you to drive me over to their house and then -take the message to your father--I know where he is--so he can stop -there before he comes home. Get ready at once, honey. I’ve told Jim to -harness up, and I’ve only to put on my bonnet.” - -Charlotte watched them as they drove down the hill, thinking -discontentedly, “Mother doesn’t care half as much about me as she does -about Rhoda. She’d just give her eyes to have Rhoda marry Jeff, and she -never shows the least interest that way in me. I don’t believe she’d -care if I was to be an old maid. An old maid! Oh, la! Well, I’m not -going to, and I’ll not marry anybody in Hillside, either.” - -Looking rather pleased with herself at this ultimatum she sauntered -into the house and the notes of the “Battle of Prague” were soon -resounding through the silent rooms. But the clanging of the knocker at -the front door presently crashed them into discord. A moment later she -crossed the hall into the parlor, whither Lizzie had shown Jefferson -Delavan, thinking: - -“What good luck there’s nobody at home but me! I wish Rhoda had refused -him again first. Well, I’ll tell him she’s going to.” - -A twinkle of amusement came now and then into Delavan’s eyes as he -watched the airs and graces, the sidelong glances, and all the dainty -feminine tricks of movement and gesture and poise with which Charlotte -accompanied her conversation. It was not her physical habit ever to -remain quietly seated, or even in the same position for more than a -few minutes. Her restless spirits, her active body and her native -vivacity of manner combined to keep her in motion almost as incessant -and quite as unconscious as that of a bird flitting about in a tree. -Although she did not know it this habit was one of her most charming -characteristics. She had a certain dignity of carriage, like her -mother’s, which made itself manifest, notwithstanding her absurdly -large hoopskirt, and this, with her grace of action and of posture, -made her movements always pleasing to look at, while her bird-like -flights gave an elusiveness to her manner that enhanced her charm. - -She saw the admiration in Delavan’s face as his eyes followed her, and -tilted her skirts in a way that would have scandalized her mother, -although she observed that her companion seemed not at all dismayed by -the glimpses of slender foot and ankle that she made possible. That -occasional twinkle of amusement she took as a tribute to her gaiety and -laughed and chattered all the more. - -“Has your true heart been pining, Miss Charlotte?” he presently asked -in a quizzical tone, as he leaned upon the back of her chair, looking -down smilingly into her pretty, upturned face. - -She flushed a little, but made wide eyes at him and said, “What do you -mean?” - -“Oh, I was given to understand that some hearts in Hillside are in a -rather bad way. Is yours true and does it pine?” - -She made a graceful little gesture and turned upon him with a merry -face and a look distinctly provocative: “Suppose it was, either or -both, what would it matter to you?” - -She looked up at him, smiling, with saucy lips and inviting eyes, and -before she knew what he was doing he had slipped an arm around her -waist and lifted her to her feet. She struggled to free herself, but -he held her against his breast, pushed back her head and kissed her -squarely upon the lips, once, twice, and thrice. With her hands against -his chest she tried to push him away and struggled to turn her face -from his. But she was helpless in his grasp until he released her. - -“You brute!” she exclaimed, dashing the angry tears from her eyes. “How -dare you!” - -He leaned against the back of the chair, hand in pocket, and laughed -indulgently. “Didn’t you want me to? It looked that way.” - -“Of course I didn’t,” she stormed. “You’re a horrid thing, and I hate -you!” - -“Well, I’m glad to know you didn’t. It’s much better that you were only -pretending.” - -“How do you think Rhoda will take it, when I tell her? And I shall!” - -“Oh, tell her if you like. But how do _you_ think she will take your -trying to persuade a kiss from her lover?” - -Her eyes blazed angrily and she stamped her foot, but said nothing. - -“Never mind, little sister,” he went on, patting her shoulder. “I was -only giving you a lesson, and it’s much better to keep such things in -the family. Remember after this that if you ask a man so plainly to -kiss you he’s very likely to do it.” - -“Don’t call me ‘sister,’ you horrid thing! I’m not!” she exclaimed, -turning away. - -“I hope you will be some day.” - -“I won’t! Rhoda isn’t going to marry you!” - -“So she’s told me a number of times!” and he laughed again, an easy, -happy, self-satisfied laugh. - -She faced about, curiosity in her heart. Had something happened without -her knowledge? Would he seem so sure, would he wear openly that look -of confident love if Rhoda had not accepted him? The imp of mischief -stirred once more in her breast. She moved a step nearer. - -“Say, do you know, Jeff, that’s the first time a man ever kissed me!” - -“You’ve had better luck than you deserve, little sister.” - -“If you’re so much in love with Rhoda what did you want to do it for?” - -“Why did you look as if you wanted me to if you didn’t?” - -“I didn’t look that way!” - -“Oh, didn’t you? Then my previous observations have been at fault. -Perhaps I thought I’d like to find out why you sent me that anonymous -letter. At first I thought you meant it as a hint for Rhoda’s sake. But -after you’d been five minutes in this room it seemed to me that you -were taking very queer means for advancing her interests. If you had -unfortunately fallen in love with me yourself it wouldn’t have been -quite so bad. But you haven’t, little sister, you haven’t. You’d have -wanted me to kiss you again if you had.” - -“You’re a horrid brute, that’s what you are, and I hate you!” - -“I’m sorry to hear it, for I’ve always liked you, and you’re Rhoda’s -sister. But I hope you’ll remember that treachery isn’t a nice thing, -in either love or war.” - -She moved uncertainly toward the door and, glancing through the -window, saw her sister drive past the front gate. “There’s Rhoda!” she -exclaimed, casting back at him a fiery glance. “I shall tell her just -the sort of man you are!” But she did not forget to give her hoopskirt -an extra tilt as she dashed out. Delavan, noting it, smiled as he -followed her to the door and cast a glance after her figure, hurriedly -retreating up the stairs. - -Rhoda did not know that Jeff was there until she came into the -hall through the office and saw him standing in the parlor door. -“Sweetheart!” he called in low tones, and moved toward her, with -outstretched hand. A glad light came into her face at sight of him, but -she stood still and did not speak, until he was at her side. - -“Don’t, Jeff! When I have told you so many times it can’t be!” she -pleaded, and drew away from him as he would take her in his arms. - -“I know, dearest! But it’s different now, when I know what you really -want!” - -She turned so that he could not see her face and asked with a sort of -gasp, “What do you mean?” - -If he could have seen her countenance as she stood with face averted, -finger on lip, listening breathlessly for his reply, nothing would have -prevented him from seizing her in his arms and doing as she had begged -in the letter she had not meant him to see. For it glowed with love and -trembled upon surrender and shone with gladness that he knew her inmost -heart. - -“Ah, Rhoda Ware, I know your secret now!” He was bending near her, his -hands hovering over her, but still he would not touch her while she -seemed unwilling. “I know, now, how much you love me, and how ready at -last you are to give up to your heart. Come then, dear one, or I shall -surely do as you bade me in your letter!” - -A sudden stiffening and shrinking in her attitude made him fall back -a step and look at her anxiously. Slowly, very slowly, she turned, -lifting her head, until she faced him. And slowly the love-light and -the trembling nearness to surrender faded out of her countenance and -left it drawn with the effort by which she had forced herself once more -to the point of denial, with lips compressed and gray eyes steely with -resolution. - -“Jeff,” she began, and her voice was unsteady, “it’s not fair to either -of us that you saw what I wrote. I didn’t mean to put that into my -letter--I wrote it out only because my heart ached so and it seemed -some relief. But I thought I’d burned it. I’m sorry it got mixed in -with the other sheets. But it was a mistake, and you’ll forgive me, -won’t you, dear Jeff, and you won’t feel that it was a promise?” - -Her voice fell away into pleading tones and she stood hesitating, -poised, as if wishing him to stand aside and let her pass. With -instinctive deference he stepped aside and she moved quickly to the -foot of the stairs. But he sprang after her and seized her hand, -exclaiming, as he drew her into the parlor, “No, Rhoda! I shall not let -you ruin both our lives and break both our hearts, after that glimpse -you gave me of yours!” - -She steadied herself for the struggle she knew must come, and suddenly -felt her nerves grow firm and her brain clear, as they always did when -she faced great need. She was calmer than he and more mistress of -herself as she said: - -“I can’t say anything different to what I’ve always said, and said in -that letter, that I feel to the bottom of my heart that slavery is such -a wrong, such a curse, such a horrible thing that I can’t marry you -because you believe in it and are a part of it.” - -[Illustration: “‘Don’t, Jeff, please don’t!’ she pleaded.”] - -He gazed at her silently a moment, and the love in his face, that had -but just now been more of the body than of the soul, was transfused -with admiration of her spirit. “And you can still say that to me,” he -marveled in hushed accents, “after your heart has ached as it must have -when you wrote those lines?” - -She dropped her eyes lest he see the sudden start of tears. It was a -subtle undermining of her defenses, had he known it, thus to cease -demanding and reveal such understanding and sympathy. Of such sort was -her ideal love, and it hurt more than ever to put it from her. One hand -was pressed against her heart, as if she could thus lessen the physical -pain, and she said piteously, “It’s aching now, Jeff!” - -He looked at her irresolutely. Her drooping figure, her averted face, -her trembling voice--they were all such a plea of weakness to strength, -of feminine trust to masculine power to help, that even if he had not -loved her the impulse to take her in his arms and comfort her would -have been well-nigh overpowering. But he knew not what unexpected -visage her spirit might next reveal and he had already learned that, -although the primitive woman in her might call loudly one moment, in -the next the civilized woman would thrust her into her cave and in -dignity and strength stand guard at the door. For a moment he wavered, -then with clenched hands turned on his heel and walked across the room, -exclaiming: - -“And you won’t let me stop it, you won’t let me comfort you!” Then he -faced about and as his eyes fell again upon her, he cried, “By heaven, -I will!” And he sprang toward her. - -But already she had gathered up her resolution once more and it was the -civilized woman, not to be won save with her own consent, who moved -aside and eluded the embrace with which he would have swept her to his -breast. He dropped on his knees at her feet and buried his face in her -dress. A moment she stood with both hands clenched against her heart. -Then she bent over him and laid them as softly upon his head as a -compassionate mother might have done. - -“Don’t Jeff, please don’t!” she pleaded. “It’s so hard already--don’t -make it harder, for both of us. We’ll have to just recognize what is, -and accept it.” - -He rose again, seizing one of her hands as it fell from his head. “But -what is, Rhoda, except that we love each other with such strength that -God who made us must have meant us to be husband and wife? What else is -there that matters, beside that?” - -“I’ve told you so often, dear, what it is that matters!” - -“What do you want me to do, dear heart? I’ll free my slaves, if you -wish, and pay them wages.” - -Her face lighted and she smiled wistfully at him, but shook her head. -“It’s deeper than that, Jeff, deeper than just the ownership of a few -slaves. I knew you would do that, for my sake. I told myself so--” she -broke off, smiled fondly upon him, then laid her free hand upon the two -already clasped. - -“Listen, Jeff, let me tell you--I didn’t intend to, but perhaps it’s -best. After I sent you that last letter, I had a sudden fear that I had -put in the sheet I didn’t mean you to see. It was only a second, and -then I felt sure I had burned it. But for a little while I--I almost -wished I had, and in my heart I said I would give up and that I would -write you to come. It seemed as if you would know anyway, and as if you -were coming, without my telling you. And for three or four days I sat -at my window and watched for you and dreamed about our love, and about -our life together at beautiful Fairmount--” she hesitated an instant -and blushed faintly, but the true woman in her sent her on--“with -our children growing up around us, and we so happy and growing old -together-- Oh, Jeff, it was such a beautiful dream!” - -“Not half so beautiful or happy as the reality would be, sweetheart! -Oh, Rhoda, won’t you make it true!” - -“We’d be happy for a while, dear, but we’d wake up, sooner or later, -just as I did, and then we’d find out that there was no true marriage -between us, and our happiness would end.” - -Denial was in his face and voice as he quickly answered: “Never, Rhoda! -I can’t believe it! Why should we waken? Why did you?” - -“It was the Dred Scott decision.” - -He smiled incredulously. “I suppose I would have anyway, after a -little,” she went on, “if you hadn’t got here first--” and she smiled -up at him ingenuously. - -“O, how I wish I had! If it hadn’t been for that storm--” - -“It’s better to wake up too soon than too late,” she broke in. “As -soon as I knew about that decision and all that the chief justice -had said, and understood how delighted the South is over it, and how -it has saddened and discouraged all of us up here at the North who -hate slavery, then I saw once more that I couldn’t compromise with my -conscience, not the least little bit.” - -“But, Rhoda, you won’t have to, if I free my slaves. And I will!” - -“I’ve thought that all out, and it wouldn’t help us any--though I’d be -glad for the slaves. Don’t you see, Jeff, that if you should free them, -still believing in slavery as you do, and still being devoted to the -South and wanting with all your soul to further her interests, which -you think are bound up in slavery--don’t you see that after a while you -would begin to feel that for my sake you had done something wrong, had -been false to your own ideals? And I would know it and it would make me -unhappy. I don’t think, Jeff, that I’d want you to free your negroes, -except as you might be convinced that it’s wrong to keep them enslaved.” - -She stopped and looked up at him with her flashing smile. “I’ll run -every one of them off to freedom that I can get a chance to, but--” - -He smiled back at her indulgently, and then they both laughed a little, -glad of the relief from the high tension which had held them. - -“Rhoda, you are such a dear girl!” he murmured fondly. Her hands were -imprisoned, one in each of his, but he did not attempt to lessen the -distance between them. The earthly side of their love was fading out of -their mutual consciousness, for the moment, as their thoughts mounted -to the things of the spirit. - -“It’s such a wide gulf between us, although we are so near,” she went -on. “Your letters have shown me that. To the bottom of your heart you -believe that all that the South is struggling for is right and good and -is her just right and will be for the good of the world.” - -He threw back his head and his eyes shone. “I do, Rhoda,” he exclaimed -with emphasis. “I love the South, and her ideals are mine and her -ambitions are mine! They are just and right and the more widely they -are spread the better it will be for civilization and the whole world!” - -She nodded. “Yes, I understand how you feel, though I didn’t at first. -And I believe to the bottom of my heart that the enslavement of man by -man”--her face was glowing now with the inner fires of conviction and -her low voice thrilled with the intensity of her feeling--“is wrong and -degrades both of them and is the cause of no end of horrible things. -And I don’t believe that anything good can ever come out of it.” - -“But you don’t know, Rhoda--you never have seen--” he began earnestly. - -“Ah, but I have seen, Jeff,” she broke in sadly. “I’ve seen the poor -negroes that my father and I have helped on their way to Canada taking -such desperate risks and enduring such awful sufferings in the hope -of winning their freedom that I don’t need to see anything else. -Divided like that, dear, on a matter that goes so deep with both of -us, there could be no real understanding and sympathy between us, no -true marriage. I think your convictions and your ideals are wrong--they -are hateful to me--but I honor you for being true to them. I honor -you more and love you more than I would if you gave them up, while you -still believed in them, for love of me.” - -“You are right, dear heart,” he said, the pain of baffled and hopeless -love sounding in his voice. “I could not be false to my convictions and -my principles, even for you, my sweet, any more than you could be false -to yours. You make me understand, as I haven’t before, what this means -to you.” - -“No, Jeff, I can’t see that there’s any hope for us, for our happiness, -on this earth, as long as this thing lasts that lies between us. -Perhaps, in heaven--” - -Their eyes met, and her voice trembled and ceased. They stood with -hands clasped, looking through open windows into each other’s souls, -gazing deep into the warm and lovely depths of love, which they were -putting behind them, and turning their vision upward along the heights -where material aims crumbled away and hope and aspiration became only -the essence of the soul’s ideals. And as they gazed it seemed to them -that somewhere up in that dim region of eternal truth their spirits met -and were joined. - -A faint sigh fluttered from Rhoda’s lips. With a start Delavan dropped -her hands and sank upon the sofa beside them. His head bowed on his -breast and a deep, shuddering breath, that was almost a sob, shook his -body. - -“I think I’ll go now,” said Rhoda tremulously. - -“No, don’t go. I want you beside me a little while. Sit down here. No, -don’t be afraid--give me your hand.” - -For a little space they sat in silence, like two children venturing -into some unknown region and gaining courage by clasp of hands. At last -he rose. - -“I will leave you now, dear heart. But it’s not good-by, even yet. I -still believe that sometime I shall call you wife. I’m proud to have -won your love, Rhoda, prouder than of anything else I shall ever do.” - -He pressed her hand to his lips, bowed ceremoniously, and a moment -later she was listening to the sound of his footsteps as he walked down -the path to the gate. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX - - -After the discovery of the hiding place in the woodshed, Dr. Ware -and his Underground co-workers thought it best for a little while to -receive no runaways in his house. For it was closely watched, not only -by the officers whose duty it was to enforce the Fugitive Slave law, -but also by the slave hunters who made it a business to trail and -capture northward-bound chattels for the sake of the rewards offered by -their owners. In order to divert suspicion Walter and Lewis Kimball and -several other young men who were in the habit of keeping a lookout for -the fugitives contrived to secrete them elsewhere until surveillance -upon the white house on the hilltop was relaxed. - -In the meantime Dr. Ware made ready a new place of concealment. An end -of the cellar extending beneath the room occupied by the two black -servants was separated from the rest by a solid wall. A trap door was -cut in the floor and a flight of stairs set in. Carpet concealed the -door and over it was usually set a table, chairs, or other furniture. -The cellar room was dark and had little ventilation, but Dr. Ware and -Rhoda congratulated themselves that it would be perfectly safe. - -“Why, father, it’s like a dungeon in a castle,” the girl exclaimed with -a laughing face as she came up after making it ready with pallets and -cots and a generous supply of old quilts and blankets. “While they are -shut up in there they can rest and sleep, and so can we, without the -least fear that they’ll be discovered!” - -Dr. Ware cast an observant look at her alert and smiling countenance. -Not since the adventure with the marshal had she seemed so like her -usual self. Following those self-absorbed days, when she had seemed -to be going about in a happy dream, had come a period of depression. -His professional eye had noted that she did not eat as a healthy young -creature should and his fatherly solicitude had made him quickly -conscious of her lessened vivacity of spirit. The changes in her -demeanor cost him a good deal of anxious thought--much more, indeed, -than she supposed he ever bestowed upon her. He knew that Jefferson -Delavan had been there again, but Rhoda told him nothing of what -had passed between them. So he merely guessed that his daughter had -struggled once more with her heart and had paid dearly for the victory. - -He watched her anxiously, but shrank from speaking to her about her -physical state because he felt sure of its emotional cause and could -foresee the trend the conversation would take. For the leading-strings -of habit were strong upon them both, and even stronger was the -constraint of self-consciousness in a middle-aged man who all his life -had cultivated the intellectual side of his nature at the expense of -the emotional. Only toward the wife who had woven so strong a mesh -about his heart in the days when the blood of young manhood was hot and -winey and, in different scope and color, toward the child who so much -resembled her, had he ever been able to express in words and actions -the inner warmth and tenderness of his heart. - -Of Rhoda he made a companion much more than he did of either his wife -or Charlotte. When she settled down at home after the three years she -had spent, in her latter teens, at Dr. Scott’s Female Institute, he had -been much pleased to find that he could talk with her seriously upon -most subjects that interested him. And since then they had grown into a -deep and wide intellectual understanding and sympathy. But between them -there was no emotional expression of their mutual feeling. - -During this last year he had watched with pride her rapid development -in character and intellect. Her Underground work had stimulated her -sympathies and trained her in self-reliance and her increased interest -in political affairs had broadened and developed her intellectually -until, from an attractive girl of rather more than average endowment -she had become a woman whose companionship her father enjoyed upon an -equal footing. Blind babies, if the windows of sense perception are not -opened into their minds, become imbecile. Perhaps--but everybody knows -that argument by analogy is the most deceptive of all the paths by -which human beings endeavor to find truth. - -So, to go back to Rhoda and the new place of concealment in the cellar. -Dr. Ware was much gratified to see her more lively demeanor that -morning and began to hope that, with the renewal of their Underground -operations and the constant call they would make upon both heart and -head, she would soon forget the pain that had been benumbing her -energies. She told him she was going to a meeting of the sewing circle -that afternoon at which they were to consider the question of enlarging -its sphere and turning it into an anti-slavery society. He thought it a -good idea and encouraged her to do all she could toward that end. - -She went early to Mrs. Hardaker’s house, where the meeting was to be -held, and proved to be the first arrival. Horace was there, not having -yet returned to his office after dinner, and as she entered he greeted -her with-- - -“Rhoda, here’s a grand thing! Just listen!” - -She saw that he had the New York “Tribune” in his hands, and as he -began to read her attention was at once absorbed by the bitter and -mournful eloquence of Horace Greeley’s lament over the Dred Scott -decision--a bit of literature that ought to be among the classics of -American journalism and studied by every aspirant for its honors. But -it is buried too deep among the yellowing sheets of forgotten newspaper -files to be known, in these busy days of a later generation, to any -but an occasional investigator. It had its own brief day of vigorous -life, when it stirred profoundly the minds and hearts of tens upon -tens of thousands of earnest men and women. And then like a dead leaf -it fluttered down to earth, to become a part of that debris of the -centuries that makes a richer soil for the growth of human souls. - -With quickening pulse Rhoda listened to the stately march of the -sentences, as Hardaker’s fluent, oratorical voice gave to each its full -significance. As he came to the closing lines his listener’s breath was -catching now and then and her eyes and cheeks were aflame: - -“The star of freedom and the stripes of bondage are henceforth one. -American republicanism and American slavery are in the future to be -synonymous. This, then, is the final fruit. In this all the labors of -our statesmen, the blood of our heroes, the lifelong cares and toils of -our forefathers, the aspirations of our scholars, the prayers of good -men, have finally ended. America the slave breeder and slaveholder!” - -As Hardaker looked up and saw her countenance aglow with the fires of -her soul it occurred to him that, after all, Rhoda Ware was beautiful. -Like the tuned strings of a musical instrument her emotional nature had -responded to the touch upon her convictions, and behind this mingled -glow of indignation and aspiring soul he felt all the forces of her -woman’s heart, her powers of loving, her wealth of compassion and -tenderness. As he left the house he muttered to himself: - -“A girl like that--she ought to be a Joan of Arc!” For the first time -in his rather long and somewhat spasmodic suit for her heart hope of -final success almost fell away from him. If such a rare, fine creature -mated at all, he felt rather than put into definite thought, it surely -ought to be with some being of finer clay than the average man. And -then he jammed his hat down hard and said to himself, definitely and -savagely: “The idea of her marrying a damned slaveholder!” Horace -Hardaker was a church member in good standing, and it was only in the -intimacy of his soul and upon most infrequent occasions that he allowed -himself such lapses of speech. When he did it was a sure sign that his -indignation had a strong personal tang. - -The band of women in Mrs. Hardaker’s parlor talked while they sewed, -discussing the proposition of turning themselves into a more ambitious -society. Some were averse, saying they already did as much as they -could and that, moreover, to venture outside the sphere of their homes -and attempt to do things that men could do better would not be a proper -and becoming course. Rhoda, stitching busily, now and then put in an -argument or answered an objection. Her ardor, pleasant demeanor, and -practical capacity had made her a favorite with all the members of the -society, old and young. Her unfortunate love affair, of which all of -them knew something, invested her with a romantic interest and set her -a little apart, because of her opportunity and her sacrifice. - -Of a sudden Rhoda felt her heart swell with the desire for utterance. -She began speaking, at first with her needle still busy. But, after -the first two or three sentences, her work dropped from her hands -and she leaned forward, her face glowing, as she dwelt upon the -discouragement which had fallen upon all who hoped for either the -ending or the staying of the progress of slavery, and of the greater -need than ever before that every one who believed slavery to be an evil -should work against it with zeal. She spoke quietly and simply, with -the intense and moving earnestness of a strong personality in the grip -of a passionate conviction. One after another the women dropped their -needles and listened with rapt attention. For a few minutes she talked -and then she caught up the paper and read the article in the “Tribune.” -At its close the utter silence of the room was broken only by a -half-suppressed sob here and there. After a moment she said modestly: - -“Well, friends, what are we going to do about this matter?” - -A woman in the back of the room began clapping her hands softly, and -presently Rhoda was shrinking back, blushing and abashed, before the -storm of applause. Immediately and enthusiastically, and perhaps not in -strict accord with parliamentary rules, it was decided to change their -circle into a “Female Anti-Slavery Society,” to continue their present -work and to add to it whatever their hands might find to do, and to -make Rhoda Ware its president. Surprised and embarrassed, she tried to -decline the honor. But the women, crowding around her with praise and -caresses, would not let her refuse. - -At home she said nothing of the affair to her mother or sister, to -neither of whom did she ever make mention of any of her anti-slavery -activities. All that portion of her life, which, indeed, had come to be -the major part, had as little community with them as if there had been -between them no bond of love and use and relationship. To her father -she related the bare facts of the occasion. But he soon heard from -Horace Hardaker, whose mother had told him all about it, a full and -enthusiastic account of what had taken place. - -Rhoda grieved much over the growing alienation between herself and her -mother and sister. Charlotte held herself plainly aloof, and Rhoda was -puzzled by an evident resentment in her attitude. She did not know that -Charlotte held her responsible for her own failure to capture the fancy -of Jefferson Delavan. - -“She’s no right to keep him dangling after her if she doesn’t intend to -marry him,” was the vexed young woman’s summing up of the situation, -having quite decided that if her sister would only move out of the way -she herself would soon be mistress of Fairmount. - -As the spring and summer went by Mrs. Ware’s hope for a marriage -between Jeff and Rhoda dwindled into profound disappointment. A sadness -came into her face and voice that smote her daughter to the heart. -The sick-headaches, to which she had long been subject, became more -frequent, and other ailments began to manifest themselves. Fearing -remorsefully that her anti-slavery work and her refusal to marry -Delavan were at the bottom of her mother’s failing health, the girl -strove in all tender, care-taking ways of which she could think to make -amends for the double hurt and disappointment. In the conduct of the -house Mrs. Ware leaned upon her more than ever. But as the months wore -on Rhoda felt keenly that the old tenderness and intimacy between them -were disappearing. - -The warm weather brought much increase of Underground traffic. At -that time and during the years immediately following the work of the -Road was at its height. For its operations there were friends, money, -workers in plenty, and slaves were gathered up even before they reached -the free-state border, and hurried on from hand to hand in such secrecy -and safety that they had hardly a care or a responsibility until they -found themselves secure on British soil. - -To Rhoda her father gave over most of the care of the fugitives -upon their arrival and while they were secreted in the cellar. Not -infrequently also she drove them on to the next station, sometimes in -the night, sometimes by day, in a spring wagon with a false bottom -which he had bought for this purpose. Occasionally Chad Wallace -appeared in the neighborhood with his peddler’s wagon at their service, -if it did not already contain its complement of hidden chattels. -Now and then farmer Gilbertson, on a trip to town, hauled back some -“baggage” well concealed in his wagon bed, to be stowed away in his -hollow haystack until it could be sent on to the next station. A man -who had a market garden out on the same road and drove back and forth -a good deal with vegetables for the Hillside market and for steamboat -supplies, and another who traveled about ostensibly selling reeds often -carried black passengers. - -With hands and head and heart all so full Rhoda found little time -to spend in thinking of her own unhappiness. Nevertheless, the day -never went by that had not a little space saved out from other things -and held apart for thought of her lover. Now and then a letter passed -between them. But from these missives was dropped all mention of both -slavery and love, although on both sides the correspondence breathed a -sense of mutual tenderness and understanding that amounted to a sort -of spiritual intimacy. To Rhoda these letters were the treasure of her -heart. They were read over and over again, held caressingly in her -hands during the brief minutes of each day when she gave herself up to -thought of him, and kept under her pillow or upon her breast while she -slept. Every night, when she knelt at her bedside, her petitions to the -Heavenly Father begged for His blessing upon her efforts in behalf of -the slaves, pleaded that He would soon put forth His hand and make an -end of slavery, and implored the safety and the happiness of her lover. - -In the late summer there came a message from Fairmount. Emily Delavan, -Mrs. Ware’s namesake, was to be married in October and the Ware family -was bidden to the festivities. The news set Charlotte upon the borders -of ecstatic delight. The visit, which was to be prolonged through -several weeks, would not only be filled with no end of alluring -pleasures and amusements, but it should open, she decided at once, -the door of escape from her home into more congenial surroundings. -It would be just the sort of environment,--a gay crowd of people -with nothing to do but enjoy themselves--in which she knew she always -appeared to best advantage. Two or three uninterrupted weeks of it, -with Jefferson Delavan always there to feel the effects of her charms, -and she could be quite sure of the result. But--there was Rhoda. - -“If she’s there,” Charlotte grumbled to herself, “she’ll just keep -on making Jeff think she’s going to marry him some day, and have him -dangling after her all the time.” - -Why should Rhoda want to go at all, if she really meant to play fair -with Jeff? The girl soon came to the conclusion, with which she -promptly acquainted her sister, that the other ought not to attend the -wedding. - -“It will be very unkind to me if you insist on going, Rhoda,” she -complained. “It will spoil all my pleasure.” - -“Sister! Why do you say that?” - -“Because you’ll keep Jeff hanging around you all the time, just as he -does when he’s here. Somehow you manage to make him think that you’re -going to marry him sometime when you know you don’t intend to at all. -It isn’t fair to me, Rhoda, you know it isn’t.” - -Rhoda had already begun to plan ways and means by which her duties and -responsibilities could be cared for during her absence, for she wished -much to make the visit. Her youthful spirit, so much neglected and -denied of late, was asserting itself once more and eagerly anticipating -the new experience and the promised social gaieties. But above all she -wished to go in order that she might be with her lover in his own home, -and afterward be able to picture his daily life more vividly in her -thought. - -“You’re not being fair to me now, Charlotte,” she replied. “I’ve told -Jeff over and over that I can’t marry him. And I’m sure I don’t want to -hinder him from marrying any one else, if he wants to.” - -“Then be as good as your word, Rhoda, and stay away from where he is. -He’s attentive enough to me when you’re not around, and if you’ll just -give me a fair chance--you’ll see--I’ll come back engaged!” - -Rhoda threw up her head and answered, with a calm intensity in her tone -that made Charlotte look at her curiously: “Very well. I’ll stay at -home. I’ve no claim on Jeff, and you can do whatever you like.” - -Charlotte flew across the room, threw her arms around Rhoda’s neck, -kissed her and declared she was a “dear old thing.” And Rhoda, warming -in response and comforted a little for her own hurt, smiled with -pleasure at this outburst of affection, returned her caresses and -called her “silly little sister.” - -“You can be an old maid if you want to and spend your life working for -niggers,” Charlotte exclaimed, dancing about the room, “but I mean -to have a good time and make the niggers work for me!” She stopped -suddenly and with head on one side regarded Rhoda anxiously. “Will you -promise,” she broke out, “that you won’t tell mother why you don’t go?” - -“Of course I won’t tell her!” - -“Nor anybody else?” - -“No!” - -“Good sister! Then I’ll love you more than ever!” - -When Rhoda declared, and her mother could not induce her to change her -decision, that it would be impossible for her to go, the disappointment -was so keen that it sent Mrs. Ware to bed with one of her severest -headaches. Rhoda cared for her with all tenderness, and, in secret -bitterness and tears that her mother must now think more hardly of her -than she deserved, wished that Charlotte would offer to give back her -promise. But she would not ask it of her sister, and to that young -woman, in the height of girlish spirits, busy with the dressmaker and -her own plans, there never occurred the faintest idea of making the -offer. - -Mrs. Ware knew, even before she tried, that she could not induce her -husband to accept the hospitality of a slave owner, and so, finally, -it was only herself and her younger daughter who made the journey. As -they were saying good-by Charlotte whispered to her sister: - -“This time next year, Rhoda, I’ll be inviting you to Fairmount!” - - - - -CHAPTER XX - - -Letters from Mrs. Ware and Charlotte told of much gaiety and of days -that were an unceasing round of enjoyment. Charlotte wrote that it was -“heaven upon earth” and that never before had she “even imagined how -happy a girl could be.” But in her mother’s letters Rhoda detected a -note of melancholy. Although at one with the life around her in memory, -training, sympathy and belief, she yet seemed to feel herself an alien -while in the midst of it and to be saddened by her own lack of complete -accord. - -“Poor mother!” thought Rhoda. “She loves father and me so much that she -can’t help feeling loyal to us with a part of her heart. Dear, dear -mother!” - -Moreover, Mrs. Ware was not well, and declared she would be glad to -return home. She related briefly that Jeff and Emily had divided the -estate, two thirds of which, according to their father’s will, belonged -to the brother. Emily had chosen some land and a number of slaves -and, as her husband already has as many negroes as he needed, it was -their intention to realize upon these at once and put the money into -improvements upon his estate. - -“They’ll be sold ‘down south,’ I suppose,” said Rhoda, as she read the -letter aloud to her father. - -“Very likely. Those big cotton, cane and rice plantations are an -insatiable market for slaves. They can’t get enough labor. That is why -the South is so anxious to reopen the African slave trade. It’s an -open secret, which the North winks at, as it does at everything the -South chooses to do, that the traffic is already going on. Since the -Dred Scott decision there is nothing they stop at. It’s a pity Chad -Wallace or Alexander Wilson isn’t in the neighborhood of Fairmount just -now. If they were, Emily’s husband wouldn’t be able to make so many -improvements!” - -A few days later Dr. Ware called Rhoda into his office, anxiety in his -demeanor. “I’ve just received this letter from Wilson,” he exclaimed, -“written in Louisville. See what he says: - -“‘DEAR FRIEND WARE: Am sending you to-day by express one blackbird, a -fine specimen, securely boxed. I was fortunate enough to secure a live -one, as I knew you would find the specimen more interesting alive than -dead.’” - -“Father!” cried Rhoda, her eyes wide and horrified. “He’s sent some -one in a box! All the way from Louisville! Oh, we must see about it at -once!” - -“The letter was evidently written in great haste,” Dr. Ware continued, -“on a dirty scrap of paper and,--yes, it was mailed on the boat.” - -“Then the box came on the steamboat with the letter!” - -“Yes, and will be at the express office now. Jim must take the spring -wagon and go after it.” - -Rhoda waited in extreme anxiety for Jim’s return, fearful lest the poor -creature should be dead in the box. Even Dr. Ware showed a lessening -of his usual calm. They said little to each other during the man’s -absence, but together made ready everything that might be necessary -if the “blackbird” should be unconscious. They knew of more than one -daring escape from slavery by similar methods. And they knew too of -the recent release from a southern penitentiary, after an eight years’ -term, of a man who had been convicted of attempting to rescue a slave -by this same means. - -The box, short and narrow and looking hardly large enough to contain a -human being, was hurried into Jim’s room and the cover quickly removed. -Within was the huddled figure of a woman, her knees drawn up to her -chin, and all her body held in the close confines as tightly as in a -vise. She did not move and when they spoke to her there was no answer. - -“No, she’s not dead,” said Dr. Ware, his finger on her pulse. They -lifted her out and restorative measures soon brought her back to -consciousness. But she was ghastly pale and trembling from head to foot. - -“You poor thing! You’re safe now,” Rhoda soothed, patting her arm, as -she began to sob hysterically. “We are your friends and we’ll take care -of you.” - -She was young and comely, perhaps one-fourth colored, with neither -complexion nor features showing more than a faint trace of her negro -heritage. Presently they were able to give her food and water, and a -little later she told them her story. As she talked Rhoda sat beside -her, clasping her hand and now and then patting her arm in sympathy and -encouragement. Her speech was simple, but good, showing intelligence -and some training. - -“How did Mr. Wilson happen to send you in a box?” asked Dr. Ware. - -“It was the only way. They had to get rid of me quick. I’d been sold to -a trader from New Orleans and he’d brought me and a lot of others to -Louisville to take us on the steamboat. I knew he’d paid a big price -for me, and from that and the way he talked me over I knew what he’d -bought me for. I made up my mind I’d rather die, or do anything. A -chance happened to come, on the street in Louisville, as he was taking -us to the boat, and in a crowd I give him the slip. - -“I didn’t know what I’d do or where I’d go, but I just hurried along -down another street, and then I saw the man who’d been at master’s -plantation last year and told us about going to Canada if we wanted to -try it.” - -“Yes--Mr. Wilson,” Dr. Ware interrupted. - -“I knew him right away, though he looked different, and I spoke to him -and told him what I wanted. He said to follow him and we walked fast -and turned up and down streets, and came to a free woman’s house. But -they’d followed us, and in two or three minutes they were at the door. -The woman took me into the back room and told me to jump into that -box. Then she put the cover down quick and went back and I heard the -men go all round the house looking for me and they swore at the woman -and told her they’d seen me come in and they’d watch the house and -keep on searching it till they got me. Then the man--Mr. Wilson, you -said?--spoke up right loud and said he couldn’t wait any longer and -would she have his clothes ready if he’d send for the box right away, -’cause he wanted to catch the boat for Cincinnati. I ’spected he meant -me, and he did. She put a pillow in the box and some biscuits and a -bottle of water, and cut a little hole in the side, so I could breathe. - -“I thought I was gwine die in the box,” the woman went on, again -showing signs of hysteria, as memory of her experience returned. “It -was such a little box I had to be all crunched up and I got awful -pains, and sometimes it seemed as if I’d just have to scream right out. -And then I’d think what would happen if I did, and I’d be caught and -they’d flog me and send me--where they’d bought me for, and then I’d -bite hard on the pillow and keep still. And once the box was turned up -so I was on my head till I knew I was gwine die in another minute, but -they turned it down again and I didn’t.” - -She stopped speaking, as long, nervous sobs shook her frame. The tears -were streaming down Rhoda’s face and her bosom was heaving as with -trembling hands she administered the draught her father had prepared. -Dr. Ware noted her agitation and admonished her gently to calm herself. -The old fear of displeasing him by showing too much emotion quickly -steadied her nerves. To distract her thoughts from the fugitive’s -harrowing experience he began to question the woman, as she grew quiet -once more, about her life in slavery. - -“You must have had a hard master to be willing to take such chances to -gain your freedom.” - -“It was the trader I run away from, ’cause I knew what he’d bought me -for. Master was a kind man.” - -“But he sold you.” - -“It wasn’t master that sold us. He never does. It was Miss Emily, -’cause she married.” - -A chill struck to Rhoda’s heart. Was her fate to be forever linked -in this way with that of the slaves from Fairmount? She was glad her -father did not even look at her as he passed, with apparent unconcern, -to the logical next question: - -“Who was your master?” - -“Jefferson Delavan, of Fairmount, just beyond Lexington. He was a kind -man and never sold any of the slaves. His mother, old mistress, was -kind too, when she was alive, and she took pains with some of us. She -was teaching me to be her maid. But Miss Emily’s different. She’s sold -nearly all of us that fell to her share.” - -Dr. Ware stole an anxious glance at Rhoda. She was sitting at the -bedside, with the woman’s hand clasped in hers, her eyes straight in -front, her lips pressed together and her face stern. - -“It’s hardly fair to make the blame personal,” he ventured. She flashed -up at him indignant eyes and her voice was bitter with scorn as she -replied: - -“But he allowed her to be sold, father, and for such a purpose!” - -He hesitated, considering a temptation. In his daughter’s present mood -it would be easy to deepen this impulse of condemnation and so perhaps -undermine her love for Delavan. But the next instant he told himself -that it would not be fair. “The man has enough to answer for--let him -at least have justice,” was his thought. - -Rhoda felt his calm eyes upon her, but she would not meet them. “You -must remember,” he was saying judicially, “that no man can be better -than the system of which he is a part. It is quite possible that -Delavan knew nothing of all this, except that his sister chose certain -slaves as her share. I don’t know very much about him, but I think he’s -decent enough to have protested if he had known of this woman’s fate. -I also think it’s most unlikely it would have done any good if he had. -And there it is, Rhoda! No matter how well-intentioned an individual -slaveholder may be, he is likely to be swept along any minute by his -system into its worst abominations. Our indictment must always be -against the system, not against individuals.” - -When Rhoda knelt at her bedside that night the look of scorn had faded -from her countenance and in its place were tears. “Dear Father in -Heaven,” she prayed, “do not let Thy punishment fall upon him. He knows -not what he does. His eyes are so blinded that he cannot see how evil -these things are. Do not punish him, do not let Thy vengeance fall upon -him, until his eyes are opened and he sees that they are evil. And -grant, O God, I beg of Thee, grant me this, that I may make amends to -this poor creature for his wrong. If Thy vengeance is ripe and can be -stayed no longer, let it fall upon my head. Let me bear his punishment. -But grant me first that I may save her.” - -The fugitive, whose name, Lear White, it was decided should be changed -to Mary Ellen Dunstable, had been so unnerved by her sufferings that -for several days she sorely needed Rhoda’s care and Dr. Ware’s medical -attention. Rhoda would not permit her to go into the cellar hiding -place, but made a bed for her in her own room and watched over her -with every solicitude. A dust of powder over her light-colored face -was enough to give her the appearance of a white girl of brunette -complexion. Only a close observer would be likely to note that the -whites of her eyes and the form of her nose gave a hint of negro origin. - -“Father,” said Rhoda, when the girl had been two days in the house, “I -can’t bear to think of sending Mary Ellen on in the usual way. She took -such awful chances to escape from a horrible fate, and she came so near -to death in that box, that it seems to me almost as if God had put her -into my charge, and meant for me to make up to her for all that she has -suffered. I feel as if I ought not to let her out of my hands until she -is safe in Canada.” - -“Well, what have you thought of doing? Have you a plan?” - -“Yes. Mary Ellen looks so much like a white woman that I’m sure she -and I could travel together, as two girl friends, and go to Cleveland -by the canal. There I can put her on one of our friendly boats and -the captain will take charge of her till she is safe on the ferry at -Detroit.” - -They talked the matter over at length, Rhoda dwelling upon the girl’s -nervous condition, which had so lessened her self-reliance and her -courage as to make doubtful the wisdom of sending her on alone by -the ordinary methods. But another reason of equal strength in her own -mind, although she did not mention it to her father, was her conviction -that here was an opportunity to make atonement for what she felt to be -her lover’s sin. Moreover, the girl clung to her with such implicit -confidence in her power to shield and save that Rhoda’s heart rose high -with a passion of resoluteness, like a mother’s for her threatened -offspring. - -It was finally decided that her plan should be carried out. The Female -Anti-Slavery Society offered its little store of cash--pitifully small -since the money panic of two months previous--to help defray Mary -Ellen’s expenses. Several of the members donated material they had -bought for their own winter wardrobes and helped Rhoda make it up into -gowns for the fugitive. - -On her way downtown one day Rhoda saw a new handbill on the trunk of -a tree at the crossing of the two main streets. It was of a sort that -had been familiar to her since her childhood. At one side was a crude -woodcut of a negro on the run, a bundle on the end of a stick across -his shoulder. She stopped to read it, wondering if it concerned any of -the blacks who had been sheltered under their roof. It offered three -hundred dollars reward, told of the running away of “my negro girl, -Lear White,” gave a detailed and accurate description of her, saying -she was “light-colored and good-looking,” and was signed, “William -H. Burns,” with his address in Louisville. Rhoda walked on, smiling, -thinking in what a little while that poster would be of no consequence -whatever to Lear White, for they were to start the next morning. - -In the afternoon Marcia Kimball came, to help Rhoda with the final -preparations. They tried upon Mary Ellen the gown, in which they had -just set the last stitches, that she was to wear on the journey. Much -pleased with its effect, Marcia whitened her face with a fresh dusting -of powder, and she stood before them a handsome brunette with a pale -complexion, big, soft, black eyes and coal-black, waving hair. Marcia -clapped her hands, exclaiming: - -“Splendid, Rhoda! Nobody would ever guess! Oh, you’ll get through all -right!” - -Rhoda, standing beside the window, glanced out and her face grew grave. -“Come here a minute, Marcia,” she said. Some men were entering at the -side gate. Miss Kimball paled. “Marshal Hanscomb!” she whispered. - -“Yes, but I don’t believe they suspect that she’s here. There are -three men in the cellar, that Mr. Gilbertson is going to stop for this -evening. We must put on a bold front. Don’t let Mary Ellen know--she’d -be scared to death, and they might guess. Come,” she exclaimed in a -louder voice, turning gaily from the window, “let’s go downstairs and -have some music. Marcia, you ought to hear Mary Ellen sing ‘Nellie -Gray’! Come down and you and she sing it together, and I’ll play!” - -Laughing and talking, with every appearance of gaiety, though the -hearts of two of them were beating fast, the three went down to the -living-room and took their places at the piano. With ears strained to -catch the sounds from the other parts of the house, Rhoda struck the -opening notes and the two voices sang: - - “There’s a low green valley on the old Kentucky shore, - Where I’ve whiled many happy hours away, - A-sitting and a-singing by the little cottage door - Where lived my darling Nellie Gray.” - -Rhoda stopped for a moment and heard the tramp of the men as they came -up the stairs from the cellar. Then she laughed merrily. - -“Why, Marcia, you’re singing all out of tune! I never heard you do that -before. Come, now, let’s all sing the chorus together!” - -Mary Ellen’s voice rose, rich and melodious, above the other two as the -music made its mournful plaint through the simple lines: - - “Oh, my poor Nellie Gray, - They have taken her away, - And I’ll never see my darling any more!” - -The men were going through the rooms upstairs and one of them said to -another, as he stopped to listen, “That girl can sing, can’t she?” - -Rhoda heard them coming downstairs and knew that Marcia was looking at -her with eyes wide and face a little pale. Would they come in? Suddenly -she was aware that her nerves were steady and strong as steel and that -her heart was beating as calmly as ever. “Now for the next verse, -Marcia!” and her fingers moved across the keys. Then she heard the men -at the door. - -“There’s some one in the hall. I must see what they want,” she said, -rising and casting an encouraging smile at Miss Kimball. Marcia gazed -at her wonderingly as she moved calmly across the room and then, -feeling the contagion of her courage, turned quickly to Mary Ellen, and -to draw her attention away from the door so that she would not face it, -began asking her what other songs she knew. - -“Excuse me, Miss Ware, for disturbing you and your friends,” Marshal -Hanscomb was saying, “but my duties under the law make it necessary for -me to search your house.” - -“Certainly, Mr. Hanscomb. Come in if you wish to. Miss Kimball is -here--I think you know her--and the other lady is my friend, Miss -Dunstable, from Cincinnati, who has been visiting me for the last week.” - -The marshal stepped inside, his assistants close behind him. Rhoda -cast a single glance toward the piano and saw thankfully that Marcia -was still holding Mary Ellen’s attention. “If only she won’t look -around,” was her anxious thought. Then turning to the marshal she said -seriously, with a gentle smile: - -“You see, there’s no one else visible in here, Mr. Hanscomb, but if you -want to look under the piano and up the chimney--” she stopped on a -rising inflection and looked at him gravely. His eyes flashed, but he -merely sent an inquiring glance around the room, saw that there were -no closets or recesses, and then moved toward the door, saying, “Thank -you, Miss Ware.” - -Rhoda closed the door behind him and leaned against it while she drew -a long breath and pressed her lips together tightly for a moment. Then -she went back to the piano saying, “Now, Marcia, suppose we let Mary -Ellen sing that next verse all alone. I want you to hear her.” - -The men on the veranda steps, taking their departure, paused and -listened to the closing lines as Mary Ellen, in a voice of mournful -sweetness, sang on alone: - - “They have taken her to Georgia, - For to wear her life away, - As she toils in the cotton and the cane.” - -“That girl makes a right good imitation of the way a darkey’s voice -sounds,” said the one who had spoken before. “I reckon she’s practised -it.” - - - - -CHAPTER XXI - - -Rhoda’s heart was high with expectation of success when she and Mary -Ellen started upon the journey to Cleveland. The runaway, in her new -gown and a bonnet and veil, played her part perfectly, and Rhoda told -her father that he might expect her back in a few days with the news -that all had gone well. “And I,” she added to herself, “shall then be -able to feel that I have paid off Jeff’s debt of wrongdoing to this -poor girl.” - -As they were going on board the steamboat Jim came hurrying down to the -landing from the post-office with the morning mail, which contained -a letter for Rhoda. She saw that it was from Charlotte, and put it -unopened into her pocket to read later. For, notwithstanding her inward -assurance that her adventure could not fail, she felt anxious about the -short time they would have to remain on the river boat. Slave traders -and their agents and slave catchers were constantly journeying up and -down the river, and if one of these who had appraised Mary Ellen in her -days of bondage should happen to see her he might recognize her as Lear -White. She kept her charge engaged in conversation, the better to carry -out the pretense that they were two ladies traveling together, and -warned her not to raise her veil. - -The transfer to the canal boat safely made, Rhoda felt much less -anxious and relaxed a little of her care. They sat upon the deck, -and Mary Ellen lifted her veil now and then, the better to see the -succession of charming views through which they passed. The wooded -hills were ablaze with autumn foliage and these alternated with open -lands where fields of brown stubble, acres of ripened corn, pasturing -cattle and busy farm yards told of autumn’s rewards for the year’s -labor. Mary Ellen was much interested in all this and had many -questions to ask as to how the work was done and whether or not it -would be the same in Canada. Several hours passed in this way before -Rhoda bethought her again of the letter from Charlotte. Smiling at -thought of the enthusiastic account it would contain of the round of -pleasures since her last missive, she took it from her pocket and -drew a little apart, while Mary Ellen became engrossed in looking at -a town which they were approaching. A number of people were at the -landing and she gazed at them, the tree-shaded streets, the buildings -and the church spires with the self-forgetfulness of a child amid new -surroundings. - -Instead of the long letter she expected Rhoda found in the envelope a -single sheet and dashed across the middle of it the one sentence, “I -told you I’d soon be engaged, and I am! Charlotte.” - -The words danced and blurred before her eyes as she stared at them, -all her attention indrawn to the pain in her breast. This, then, was -all love meant to a man--the whim of a moment or a month, ready to be -captured by the first pretty girl who made the effort. Had it not been -the same with Horace Hardaker? Why should she have expected Jeff’s love -to be of any more substantial fiber? And, moreover, what right had she -to expect or wish him to be faithful to her? But her quivering heart -cried out that if he had loved as she did he would have been faithful, -even unto death. And down in the bottom of her soul she knew that her -pain was not all for his lost love, that some of it, much of it, was -for her ideal of his love and faith and chivalrous heart, stabbed to -death by this immediate surrender to Charlotte’s allurements. - -“Miss Rhoda! Miss Rhoda! Miss Rhoda!” - -The frightened cry, repeated over and over, seeming at first to come -out of some far-off space, pierced her indrawn consciousness. She -looked up in a dazed way, her thoughts stumbling back slowly to her -surroundings. Then she saw that Mary Ellen, between two men, was being -hustled off the boat. - -She sprang after them and seized the arm of one of the men. “What are -you doing?” she demanded. - -“You’ll soon find out what you’ve been doing!” the man replied. - -“This is an outrage!” Rhoda exclaimed. “Let this woman go, or I -shall have you arrested! She is Miss Dunstable of Cincinnati, and is -traveling with me. Let her go, I say!” - -The man laughed and pushed on. “No, she ain’t. She’s Lear White and -she’s a slave and belongs to William H. Burns. I’m his agent and I was -with him when he bought her and helped to take her and the rest of his -gang to Louisville, where she give him the slip. I come up through this -black abolition country to watch for her, and I knew her the minute I -set eyes on her, though you have got her fixed up so fine.” - -With one sweep of his handkerchief across her cheek, he exposed a broad -stripe of browner skin. He laughed contemptuously, and a number of -others who had gathered round them on the landing laughed also. Rhoda -heard the epithet, “nigger-thief,” in derisive tones passed from one -to another. She knew well that if the crowd’s sympathies were with him -there was no telling what it might do. Gripping his arm with both hands -and bracing herself against his effort to move on, she faced about, -head high and eyes flashing, and cried: - -“Is there no one here who will help me to save this poor girl?” - -Then she was aware that from the back of the concourse some men were -pushing their way toward her. She struggled against the efforts of -Mary Ellen’s captors to go on and would not release her hold of the -one next her, thinking that here might be deliverance, or, at least, -help. As they came nearer she saw that one was in Quaker garb, and her -hopes rose. In the matter of a runaway slave there was no doubting on -which side would be the active sympathy and assistance of a Friend. In -response to his inquiry she told him her own and her father’s name. - -“Yes, yes,” he said heartily, “I’ve heard of Dr. Ware.” He glanced at -Mary Ellen, dumb and patient between her captors, then back at Rhoda, -and understanding flashed between their eyes. - -“Don’t be afraid,” he said. “Thee’ll soon find friends here, who’ll do -their best to bring things out all right for thee and for her too.” - -They moved on, the mob around them rapidly increasing. By the looks -of the men and the remarks which reached her ears she knew that it -was, for the most part, pro-slavery in feeling. The Quaker was walking -beside her, but his companions had disappeared. Presently he whispered: - -“The marshal will be here soon. Perhaps thee could slip away and hide. -There’ll be help if thee wants to try it.” - -Rhoda shook her head and whispered back: “No, no. I mustn’t leave her.” - -In a whisper so low it barely reached her ears she heard him say: -“Never mind her. She’ll be looked after.” - -But before Rhoda could reply three men, pushing their way -authoritatively, were beside them, and a moment later she found -herself under arrest and being marched along between the marshal’s two -assistants. - -Soon she saw that a change was taking place in the character of the -crowd. Its numbers were being rapidly augmented, but most of those -who were joining it now were silent, and Rhoda guessed by their looks -and by the glint of an eye here and there that they were moved by a -determined purpose. The marshal surveyed them anxiously, spoke to his -aids, and they, with Rhoda between them, held back, then edged their -way into a cross street and let the throng surge on past them. Then -they rushed her along until they came to a two-story brick building, -where they gave her into the charge of another official, who locked her -into an upstairs room. - -Through the barred windows she could see the mob, now at a standstill -half a block down the street, eddying round the center where stood -Mary Ellen between her two captors, a drooping figure of despair and -resignation. On the outskirts and apparently merely looking on was -the Quaker, who had told her his name was Daniel Benedict. And still -farther away her eye caught sight of a familiar form, old and shabby, -topped by a bell-crowned hat, standing beside a dingy peddler’s wagon -and watching the proceedings with an interest which broke out now and -then in shrill calls and shuffling capers. - -Rhoda leaned against the bars, her hands wrung together, and waited -breathlessly for what might happen next. The men were surging and -pushing this way and that, and she soon made out a resolute movement -on the part of those who were on the outside to force their way to the -center. Many of those who made up the nucleus had been moved apparently -by idle curiosity, and they were now falling back, out of the way of -the onward efforts of the others. - -“There’s the marshal,” Rhoda exclaimed to herself, pressing her face -against the bars, “right in front of Mary Ellen! Oh, poor, poor girl! -Surely, God won’t let them take her back! Those men are pushing up -closer! What’s the marshal saying? Oh, he’s calling for a posse! There, -they’re fighting! Oh, see, they’ve got hold of him!” - -In her excitement she was breaking into speech. “Oh, oh! They’ve -knocked down the trader!--and the other man--Mary Ellen--they’ve got -her! They’ve got her! And they’re shooting! Oh, again! Again!” - -Hands clasped hard against her heart, she stood breathless, silent, -watching the struggle, while the sound of shots, the cries of the -mob, and the shouts of the officers broke the stillness of the room. -“There, they are getting her out! Oh, don’t hurt her! Now--oh, run, -Mary Ellen, run, run! Oh, they’re helping her--two men--and another -running ahead-- Oh, God, help her, help her to safety!” - -She leaned against the side of the window, sight swimming and lips -trembling, as Mary Ellen and her body-guard of rescuers, dashing down -another street, passed from her view. Then she turned her attention -back to the throng of men who seemed now to be intricately struggling -with one another. But presently the mass began to resolve itself. A -number, which seemed to contain both parties, for some were evidently -trying to stop or hinder the others, rushed after the slave girl and -her protectors. Many others fell back and stood near to be on hand for -the next development. They had not long to wait, for the marshal and -his assistants, regaining their feet, speedily began arresting their -assailants. Rhoda presently saw them marching up to the jail door with -a dozen men under guard, of whom several were wounded. - -A few minutes later she heard a tenor voice, surprisingly good though -somewhat cracked with age, singing loudly in the street, “In Dixie land -I’ll take my stand.” She smiled, for she knew the voice at once, and -hurried back to the window. Chad Wallace in his dingy peddler’s wagon -was passing the jail. His eyes were roving carelessly over the front -of the building and she felt sure he saw her, although he made no sign. -But he flourished his whip in a wide circle round his head and held it -poised for a moment above his shoulder, pointing back into the middle -of his wagon. - -Later in the day Daniel Benedict came to see her and gave her -explanation of what had happened. His wrinkled, benignant face and -silver gray hair seemed to her distraught heart to carry assurance of -fatherly protection. - -“Thy friend is safe now,” he told her, “and not much the worse for her -experience.” - -“I saw from that window,” she exclaimed, “the way they got her out of -the crowd. It was wonderful--just pushing a way for her and handing her -on from one to another and protecting her with their bodies!” - -“Yes,” assented the Quaker, calmly, “it was good work, and quickly -done--else, they would not have succeeded. I could take no part in it, -for, as thee doubtless knows, it is against my principles to offer -violent resistance to the law. But,” he hesitated a moment and Rhoda -saw a twinkle flicker across his kindly eyes, “I do not feel that it -is necessary to hinder those who think differently. There is a pretty -strong anti-slavery sentiment here, although there is plenty for the -other side too, and we determined some time ago that not another seeker -after freedom should ever be sent back to his chains from this place. -Those who had no scruples against violent resistance were to be free -to do whatever they might think best and, for the rest of us,”--and his -eyes twinkled again,--“there would not be lacking work for us, either.” - -“But Mary Ellen? How did the trader get hold of her? Do you know how it -happened? I had been so watchful, and had let her raise her veil only -now and then, when it seemed safe. I had not left her side since we -started, until just before the awful thing happened. Then I heard her -call and they were dragging her off the boat. I was hardly three feet -away and had had my hand off her arm, oh, it seemed hardly a minute! -Have you talked with her? Has she told you?” - -He nodded gravely and the suggestion of a smile appeared about his -lips. Rhoda guessed that Mary Ellen was hidden in his house. “Yes, -I have talked with the fugitive. She was leaning on the rail, so -interested in looking at the town and at the landing as the boat came -up that she forgot about her veil. Then, among the people on shore she -recognized the trader and was so frightened that she seemed to lose the -power of motion. He saw her the same instant, rushed upon the boat and -seized her.” - -“Oh, the fault is all mine!” moaned Rhoda. “I should not have left -her, I should not have taken my eyes off her, for one single minute! I -was too proud, Mr. Benedict, and this is my punishment. For I thought -nobody but me could get her safely to Cleveland and I had been so -successful with others--and with her too--that I thought I couldn’t -fail!” - -“Well, she is safe again. But thee is likely to suffer sadly for thy -one moment of forgetfulness.” - -She told him Mary Ellen’s story, dwelling especially upon her -sufferings during her long hours in the box. When she ended he brought -his fist down on his knee and exclaimed solemnly: - -“She has earned her freedom twenty times over and she shall have -it--fugitive slave law, constitution, marshals, or presidents -notwithstanding, even if--if--Daniel Benedict has to forget his -principles for once!” - -The next day he came again to see her, bringing with him his wife, a -little woman in Quaker bonnet and gown, with a strong face and a sweet -smile. Mary Ellen, they told her, had been safely started on her way -again at midnight. Chaddle Wallace had taken her in his peddler’s -wagon. Their news well-nigh dissipated Rhoda’s anxiety. For, of all -the many fugitives he had hauled part or all the way to the northern -boundary she knew that not one had failed to reach Canada in safety. - - - - -CHAPTER XXII - - -In the depths of humiliation Rhoda mourned over the fiasco of her -attempt to guide Mary Ellen to freedom. But she soon found that the -fiasco itself was bearing a rich crop of results. She was indicted -for aiding and abetting the escape of a runaway slave and a dozen men -of the rescuing party for obstructing the United States marshal in -the performance of his duties and preventing him from rendering back -the fugitive. The anti-slavery side retorted by arresting Gordon, the -slave trader’s agent, and the slave catcher accompanying him, under the -state’s personal liberty law, for kidnaping, and several members of the -marshal’s posse, who had used fire-arms, for assault with intent to -kill. - -As the news spread, meeting after meeting was held all through the -central and eastern part of the state and up into the Western Reserve, -denouncing the law, expressing sympathy with its victims and declaring -the righteousness of setting at naught its provisions. Through the -southern portion of the state and wherever there was sufficient -pro-slavery feeling to crystallize into such action, counter-meetings -were held, which reprobated the unfairness to the South, characterized -in contemptuous terms the actions and principles of believers in the -“higher law,” declared them to be traitors and called upon the Federal -Government to use stern measures in upholding the Fugitive Slave Act. - -On the advice of Horace Hardaker, who was to conduct her case, and that -of the counsel for her fellow prisoners, both Rhoda and they refused -to enter recognizance that they would appear in court when wanted, and -therefore were compelled to remain in jail. - -“It’s an unrighteous law in every respect,” said Hardaker, “and our -contention will be that it is unconstitutional and void. To consent to -return for trial under it would make tacit recognition of its validity. -And that we won’t do. Besides, staying in jail will make martyrdom out -of it, and the effect will be all the more potent.” - -But Rhoda, although she saw that her failure, in the outcome, would -be of more consequence than success would have been, felt the pangs -of humbled pride. She talked the matter over with Rachel, Daniel -Benedict’s wife. For between her and the Quakeress a warm affection -had quickly developed. Rachel Benedict visited her as often as the -prison officials would allow, and Rhoda soon found that the little, -dove-gray figure, with the sweet, strong face and the silver hair, was -sure to bring assuaging of her heartaches and renewal of her spiritual -strength. Without making any mention of her personal affairs, Rhoda -yet found it possible to talk with her new friend with more intimacy -and with greater surety of understanding and response than she had ever -been able to do with her mother. - -“I was so proud, so self-complacent,” she said, “that I thought I could -make amends to Mary Ellen for the wrongs that had been done to her. -And I showed myself unworthy even to try. I let her be taken, just by -being wrapped up for a few minutes in my own affairs, in something that -troubled me. Oh, it has been a bitter lesson!” - -“Thee seems to me to be too much troubled by thy repentance. If thee -lets it engross thee it too will become a sin. And perhaps the sin for -which thee is repenting does not deserve so much repentance, after all. -If thee did this thing believing in thy inmost soul that it was right -and wishing in thy inmost soul to do good to others by means of it, -then don’t disturb thy heart, Rhoda Ware, with how it seems to have -come out. It hasn’t ended yet. And thee can be sure there is plenty of -time yet for more good to come out of it than thee ever dreamed of.” - -“Yes, it didn’t make any difference to Mary Ellen,” Rhoda answered -thoughtfully, “for she reached Canada just as safely as if I’d taken -her all the way myself. But such an awful wrong had been done to -her,--it seemed more horrible than any other case I had known about, -and I wanted to suffer for it myself. I wanted to make atonement for -another person’s sin. And it has all ended in failure!” - -“Well, isn’t thee suffering for it? Isn’t thee suffering a great deal -more than if thee had been successful? But don’t delude thyself, -Rhoda Ware, by thinking thee can do any good by suffering for another -person’s sins. We have got to sweat and suffer stripes ourselves for -the evil that is in us if we are to be purged of our sins!” - -At her window that night, Rhoda pondered long upon these words. “I -suppose Mrs. Benedict is right,” she said to herself finally. “It was -only my pride--and my love, that made me think I could atone for even -this one bit of his wrongdoing. He will have to suffer for it, for all -of it, himself, before he can see that it is wrong. And we shall all -have to suffer, North and South alike, for this awful sin of slavery, -for the North is to blame almost as much as the South. - -“‘Sweat and suffer stripes’! Bloody sweat, father thinks it will -be,--he is so sure that it will end in war. Will it come in our time? -Oh, surely, things cannot go on like this much longer! So much anger on -both sides, so much indignation in the North, so many threats in the -South--and all getting worse and worse every year--Oh, if war is to be -the end, we must be getting nearly there! War!” - -She shivered and pressed her hands against her face. As the grisly -specter of blood and smoke passed vaguely before her mind’s eye her -anxious thoughts hovered with instant anxiety over the dear image of -him who she knew would be among the first to challenge the issue. Then -with a little cry she sprang to her feet. - -“Shall I never remember I must not think of him like that!” she asked -herself with bitterness. “My sister’s husband! O, God, help me to -forget!” She paced about the room with frowning brows and lips pressed -hard together, telling herself, as she had already done a hundred -times, that she must learn to forget, as it had been so easy for him to -do. And there she touched upon her deepest wound, that his love had not -been as fine and as true as she had thought it. - -“How could he love another--so different--and wish to marry her, after -all that has passed between us? I could not--how could he?” was the -question that would come back, again and again. She tried to subdue -it by telling herself that since he could, since his love and faith -were not equal to hers, he was not worthy of her love and deserved -only forgetfulness complete, eternal. But her heart cried out fiercely -against this edict of her brain and clung to its need of believing in -him. - -“He is fine and noble in many, many ways,” at last she said to herself, -“in nearly all ways the finest and the noblest man I’ve ever known, and -if his love fell short of all I thought it was, I must try to forgive -him that, as I forgive him his blindness about the wickedness of -slavery, which kept us apart, and, I suppose--deep down in my heart--I -suppose--I’ll always love him. But I’ll try, oh, I’ll try from this -minute, always to think of him as Charlotte’s husband. He mustn’t be -Jeff to me any more--just Charlotte’s husband! Charlotte’s husband!” - -During her days in jail she spent much time embroidering dainty things -for Charlotte’s trousseau, and into these she found herself able to -stitch, along with the tears that would fall now and then, prayers and -hopes for Charlotte’s happiness and earnest desires, since the marriage -must be, that she would make her husband happy. But on this latter -question she found herself haunted by a doubt that would yield to no -arguments based on the sequence of love and happiness. - -Charlotte and Mrs. Ware returned home immediately after Rhoda’s arrest -and it was some time, after her sister’s first brief announcement -of her engagement, before she heard again from either of them. And -afterward their letters were filled mainly with accounts of their plans -and preparations for Charlotte’s trousseau and wedding. In her replies -she could not bring herself to write Jeff’s name and so referred to him -only as “Charlotte’s lover,” or “Charlotte’s intended.” She noticed too -that her mother spoke of him only in the same way while her sister -wrote of him as “he,” in capital letters. - -“They are afraid of hurting my feelings by mentioning his name,” I -suppose, Rhoda said to herself. “I must get used to it, but--I’m glad -they don’t.” - -Charlotte’s letters were brief and infrequent and each one contained, -in addition to talk about her bridal plans, advice in plenty on the -propriety of Rhoda’s giving up her “nigger thieving” and her black -abolition acquaintance, now that the family was identified with -southern interests. - -“Dear little sister!” Rhoda would say to herself with an indulgent -smile as she read these admonitions. “She’s such a child, and she’s so -positive she knows all about it! I wonder if she’ll ever really grow -up!” - -But her mother’s letters gave her much concern. Her arrest and -imprisonment had caused Mrs. Ware severe shock and deep grief and -her heart was wrung that the necessity was upon her to cause so much -suffering. - -“I must do whatever I can,” she moaned. “It’s on my conscience and I -must, and I can’t be sorry I did this, dear, dear mother, even for your -sake. I couldn’t live if I didn’t do my best to fight this awful evil!” - -Evidently, too, Mrs. Ware was not well. The physical ailments that had -interfered with her enjoyment of her visit to Fairmount had grown -worse since her return. Notwithstanding all this the mother heart of -her yearned over and wished to be with her first-born. But to this -desire Rhoda gave constant denial, lest her burden of grief and pain be -made harder to bear. - -Dr. Ware came to see his daughter as often as his practice would -allow, but his visits were necessarily brief and infrequent. He spoke -occasionally of Charlotte’s engagement and Rhoda thought he seemed -pleased with it. - -“It’s a very good thing, I guess,” he said one day, with a cheerfulness -that gave Rhoda a little twinge of unhappiness. - -“But he always has loved Charlotte so much,” she thought, “and wanted -her to have everything she wanted that he’d be glad to have her happy -no matter if--” - -“She’ll be in harmony with her surroundings and he seems to be very -much in love with her,” Dr. Ware went on. Rhoda turned quickly away -lest he see the little spasm of pain that she felt sure was showing -itself upon her countenance. - -“Your mother, of course, is deeply pleased,” he continued. “I don’t -know but it is giving her almost as much pleasure as your marriage -would have done. It will be a good thing for Charlotte to be married -happily and settled down. She’ll come out all right. I never have had -any doubts about her, in the long run, because she’s so much like what -her mother was at her age.” - -Horace Hardaker came often to consult with Rhoda in the preparation of -her case. He hoped to make a telling presentment and was enthusiastic -over the excitement that already had been aroused. - -“Of course,” he said to her one day in the early winter, when the date -set for her trial was almost at hand, “the law and the facts are all -against us. The only thing we can do is to appeal to the sentiment -against the law. Whether we lose or win, the affair is making a big -breeze that’s going to be bigger yet!” - -“You know, Horace,” she replied, “that I don’t care in the least what -they do with me,--except on mother’s account. What I want most is to -help all I can in the fight against slavery and if it will do more good -for me to stay in jail than to go home and work with the Underground -again, why then--” she looked straight at him and a smile flashed from -her lips up into her eyes--“in jail let me stay!” - -He smiled back at her and his blue eyes lighted with admiration as -he laid one hand for a moment over hers. “Rhoda, I’ve told you this -before, but I must say it again, and I shall always say it--you’re the -grandest girl there is anywhere!” - -After he was gone she sat with a tender smile on her lips. “Dear -Horace!” she was thinking. “Such a good friend as he is! Sound and true -to the bottom of his heart! Why didn’t I happen to fall in love with -him?... Well, it seems to be getting nearly time--for me to refuse him -again!” - -It was within a day or two of the opening of her trial, which was to -be the first of the series, when Rhoda finally brought herself to the -point of writing to Jefferson Delavan. Many times she had told herself -that, since he was to marry her sister, she ought to let him know that -in her heart were only wishes for his happiness. But it had been a hard -thing to do and she had postponed it from week to week. At last, her -sense of duty would be put off no longer and she resolutely faced the -heartache that she knew the task would make all the more poignant. - -“Dear Friend,” she wrote. “Charlotte has told me of the happiness -that came to her and to you during her visit to Fairmount. I am sure -you will believe me when I say it is my most earnest wish that that -happiness will never be any less than it is now and that it will grow -greater during the many long years of wedded life that I hope are -before you. In your and her feelings and convictions there is nothing -to divide you, nothing to prevent the complete union of hearts and -souls which is the only thing that can make marriage worth while. I -am sure, since you love her, that you will always be very tender to -Charlotte. To me she has always been just ‘little sister’ and it is -difficult for me to realize that she is really a woman and about to -become a wife. At home we have always spoiled her and that has made -her, sometimes, in a merry way, rather ruthless of other people’s -feelings. But I have no doubt your love will make you understand that -this is only on the surface and that her heart is true and loving. For -you both, dear friend, soon to be brother, my heart is full of every -good wish. Always your friend, Rhoda”--she paused here, on the point of -signing her name in the old way, but “Adeline” seemed sacred to those -other days and to the love that had been between them then, and she -could not write it here. So she added only “Ware” and quickly folded -and sealed the letter. - -As she looked at the envelope it seemed as if it were the coffin of her -love, ready for burial, as if she had said a last good-by to all the -pleasure it had brought into her heart. Now only the pain was left. She -bowed her head upon her hands and some scalding drops trickled through -her fingers. Her jailer’s knock sounded at the door and she sprang to -her feet and dried her eyes. Hardly had she time to control her sobs -when it opened and Jefferson Delavan crossed the threshold. - -His look was deeply earnest and intent upon her as he moved forward, -holding out both hands and saying, “Rhoda! I could stay away no longer!” - -“Jeff!” she faltered, stepping back. “I--I--had just written to you!” - -“Written to me! Rhoda! Did you ask me to come?” - -There was no mistaking the look of glad surprise and love that suddenly -broke over his countenance. Rhoda gazed at him in perplexity and -instinctively pressed one hand against her heart, as if to keep down -the responsive love that was trying to leap upward, as she said to -herself, “Charlotte’s husband! Charlotte’s husband!” - -Still moving backward, away from him, as he followed her across the -room exclaiming again, “Sweetheart, did you ask me to come?” her -bewildered, apprehensive thought sprang to the conclusion that she must -make him be true to Charlotte, that she must not let him betray the -“little sister.” - -“Charlotte--” she ejaculated--“your engagement--I wrote to wish you -happiness!” - -He stopped short and stared at her with puzzled eyes. “What under -heaven do you mean?” - -“Why, your engagement to my sister! Aren’t you going to marry -Charlotte?” - -“Assuredly, I’m not!” was his quick and emphatic answer. - -“Have you--have you--broken it off, then--so soon?” She was moving her -trembling hands over each other, unable to keep them still, and holding -her face half averted, afraid to look at him save in brief glances, -lest her eyes might betray the love that was swelling in her heart. - -“You are talking in puzzles, Rhoda! I’ve never had the faintest desire -to marry Charlotte, or anybody but you.” - -Her face dropped lower and her bosom heaved. What could it all -mean? Had they been deceiving her? And why? “She said--that is--I -understood--” she stumbled. Then he broke in upon her embarrassed -bewilderment. - -“She didn’t say she was going to marry me, did she? Lloyd Corey is the -happy man. It was love at first sight, of the most violent sort, with -him, and he would take nothing but an outright ‘yes’ for his answer, -and that inside of two weeks. It was a pretty little love comedy, and I -wished a hundred times that you were there to watch it with me.” - -She moved unsteadily to a chair and sank down, her face in her hands. -It had been such tragedy to her! And now it was taking all her -self-control to hold herself firmly in hand under the reaction. At once -he was beside her, dropping upon one knee and trying to take her hands -from her face. “What is it, Rhoda? What is the matter? Look at me, -dearest!” - -“Yes, Jeff--let me realize--wait--one moment!” He watched her -anxiously, her hands in his, as with a deep, long breath, a tension of -the muscles and a pressing together of her lips she regained control of -herself. She withdrew her hands and slowly lifted her face as he rose -to his feet. - -“It’s nothing, Jeff--no, I don’t mean that--it is so much. But--I -thought--Charlotte led me to think that--she was going to marry -you--and now--to find that you’re not--that you still--” She stopped -and half turned away her face, trying to hide the confession she knew -was there of all it meant to find that his love was still her own. -But already he had seen enough to set his heart on fire and he sprang -toward her, as if to take her in his arms. - -“And you cared so much? Rhoda, deny me no longer!” - -She drew away from him and said humbly: “Can you forgive me, Jeff? -Indeed, I would not have thought it possible, but it seemed to have -happened. It was just one of Charlotte’s tricks.” - -“Forgive you, dear heart? I do not think you could do anything that I -would not forgive!” - -Her glance swept the room. Then she looked up at him with a smile and -said significantly, “Even this?” - -“Even this, Rhoda, else I would not be here. I held out against the -pleading of my heart as long as I could. But I longed so much to see -you and wanted so much to help you, that I couldn’t stay away any -longer. I’ve come, dear, to beg you once more to be my wife. Let me -give you, at once, the protection of my name--” - -She drew back and lifted her head proudly. “I have already the -protection of my father’s name and the approval of my conscience. I -should feel myself a coward, and a traitor to myself, if I tried to -crawl under any other now.” - -“I understand what you mean--and I beg your pardon. But we both know -now, more surely than we knew before, how necessary we are to each -other, how deep and true and everlasting our love is. Don’t you -realize that neither of us can ever be happy until we have joined our -lives together? What are the days and the weeks for us now but just a -constant yearning for each other’s presence. Look forward, Rhoda, to -months and years of that, think of how much more life will mean for us -both, if only you will give up and listen to what your heart tells you.” - -She had risen and was standing beside her chair, one hand on its back. -He came close to her and rested his hand near hers. She was conscious -too that his other arm was outstretched behind her, hovering close, -ready to sweep her into his embrace. The struggle in her heart, longing -to heed the call of his, quick with desire to make amends for the -injustice she had done him, tumultuous with rejoicing that his love -had been all she had thought it, was almost more than she could bear. -He was so near--she had only to lean toward him a little, and his arm -would be around her and her head upon his breast. Ah, the blessed -peace there would be in that haven of repose! Already she could feel -its stilling waters wrapping round her, numbing the power of resistance. - -He leaned a little nearer and his voice was low and compellingly sweet, -“Rhoda! Come to my arms, where you belong! Do not deny our love any -longer!” - -She saw his hand on the back of the chair moving instinctively toward -her own,--a sinewy, brown, masterful hand, which held her eyes as -it drew nearer, little by little, as if drawn by some irresistible -attraction. She knew that his eyes in that same way were fixed upon -her own, long, slender, nervous, the sort of hand that works out -the behests of a strenuous soul. And she knew, also, as she waited, -silent, trying to force herself to voice once more the dictates of her -conscience, she knew that, if his hand touched hers before she could -bring herself to speak, she could resist no longer. Still she stood, -speechless, her fascinated eyes upon his masterful hand, her body -thrilling with the surety that if she did not speak now, at once, in -another moment she would be in his arms, and the struggle over. - - “Oh, my poor Nellie Gray, - They have taken her away, - And I’ll never see my darling any more!” - -The words of the negro song, in a negro woman’s voice, came floating -into the room, mingled with the sounds of broom and scrubbing brush. -They brought to Rhoda instant memory of Mary Ellen’s melodious tones, -singing in happy unconsciousness of peril, and of her own strained -and fearful attention as she listened to the footsteps steps of the -marshal’s posse. And then like a flash passed before her mind’s eye -the ashen face and shaking figure of Mary Ellen, as her father and Jim -lifted her from the box that had almost been her deathbed. - -The numbing waters fell away, she raised her hand and pressed it -against her heart with the impulsive, unconscious gesture he knew so -well, and moved apart. - -“Jeff, it’s no use talking any more about this,” she said in tremulous -accents. “The last time we said all that is to be said.” - -“Don’t say that! It makes everything so bare and hopeless! It makes me -fear that you have killed your love. Rhoda, you do love me, yet?” - -She turned slowly toward him and lifted her downcast face, alight with -all the glow that was in her heart. “Jeff,” and the word as it came -from her tenderly smiling lips was a caress, “Jeff, I love you so -much that my heart has made me forgive you even that you allowed Mary -Ellen--Lear White--to be sold.” - -“My sweet! And I love you so much that my heart has made me forgive -even your stealing her away!” - -For a moment it seemed to them that gray eyes and brown melted into -each other. And then the comedy of their cross-conscienced hearts -struck her sense of humor, the corners of her mouth trembled and -deepened and a smile flashed over her face and sparkled in her eyes. -At that they both laughed, softly, in the tenderness of perfect -understanding. Then she saw the old baffled, determined look overspread -his face as turning sharply he strode across the room and back. - -“My God, Rhoda! Why have our hearts snared us into this misery? Why -don’t you loathe me as you do all that I believe in and stand for? -Why can’t I condemn and scorn you as I do all the rest of your tribe? -Why must I, when I detest and am injured by what is dearest to you, -still see in you my ideal of all that is lovable and womanly? My love, -my love, why can’t I hate you instead of loving you so that you are -the only woman in all the world I want for my wife? Must our love be -forever a curse instead of a blessing?” - -He flung himself into a chair beside the table, every muscle of his -body expressive of anger and rebellion at the mysterious forces of -human life that had played this scurvy trick upon them, pitted against -each other loving heart and steadfast conscience and left them, like -two cocks in a pit, to fight it out in a struggle to the death. - -Did they laugh at him and at her, those Caliban spirits of the -universe, that with grim and cruel humor are forever setting human -purpose awry and sending it, lop-sided and ludicrous, far aside its -mark? Did they laugh and cheer and find pleasure in that struggle, -the sure result of the innate upward-strivingness of the human soul, -like human beings around a cock-pit betting upon which instinct, which -spirit, which physique, shall prove the stronger? Or, perhaps, was -Caliban pushed aside by some Angel of the Sword, infinitely just and -infinitely merciful, that with stern lips whispered to pitying eyes, -“No, let them struggle, for only by struggling, even to the uttermost, -can their souls grow!” - -Softly Rhoda came near, hesitatingly put forth one hand and let it -rest for an instant upon his arm. At her touch he straightened up and -unconsciously one hand sought the place upon his arm where hers had -lain. “I don’t believe, dear, it will be forever. I don’t believe it -will be very much longer.” - -“What do you mean, Rhoda?” he cried, springing up. “Do you really think -there is hope for us?” - -“Yes, Jeff, I do. But I don’t suppose you’ll see it as I do. It’s only -that I think,” she was speaking timidly, and yet with a grave eagerness -of voice and manner, “and so do a good many of us, that slavery can’t -last much longer. We feel sure that its end is bound to come, in one -way or another, and that before long. And when slavery is swept away, -Jeff, and the whole country is clean of it, then there will be no gulf -between us!” - -Her serious eyes were luminous as they met his unbelieving ones and in -her face was the subdued glow of one who looks afar off upon a land of -promise and knows that toward it his feet are set. Love and disbelief -were mingled in the somber countenance he bent upon her. - -“No, Rhoda, I do not agree with you. And much as I love you, sweet, I -would not, if I could, purchase our happiness at such a cost. I would -not, if I could, be such a traitor to the South. But I shall always -love you, dear heart, and I shall always hope that you will yet be -mine.” He held her hand tenderly for a moment in both of his, pressed -it to his lips, bowed gravely, and left the room. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII - - -“It’s going to be a good speech, Horace, and it will surely attract -attention,” said Rhoda Ware to her counsel on the day before the -opening of her trial. - -Hardaker had just gone over with her an outline of the address he would -make in summing up her case. It was intended for the people outside -the court room, near and far, who would talk about it and read it in -the newspapers, quite as much as for the ears of the jurors. So high -and strong had risen the feeling on the slavery question that in some -parts of Ohio, as well as elsewhere, the lawyer who devoted energy and -ability to the defense of captured fugitives and their helpers could -be sure of early and ample political reward. Hardaker was ambitious. -He meant, as soon as he could reach an opening door, to enter upon a -public career and he had mapped out for himself election to Congress, -and after that a steady ascent to high places in national affairs--such -a career as, half a century ago, engaged the talents and aspirations -of ten times as many eager and capable young men as now think it worth -consideration. The fact is an ugly one and not creditable to the -quality of our national growth. - -But for Horace Hardaker in this present case the spurrings of ambition -were only an added incentive. His conviction was profound that slavery -was an evil and the Fugitive Slave Act a monstrous law and his desire -to oppose either or both or anything that tended to strengthen the -institution of slavery amounted to a passion. And, in addition to these -motives, his intimate friendship with Dr. Ware and his love for Rhoda -incited him to exert himself to the utmost in her defense. - -“I hope it will, Rhoda,” he replied, “but I’m doubtful if it will do -you any good. Your violation of the law was open and flagrant and we -don’t want to deny it or attempt to mitigate it in the least.” - -“Indeed we don’t.” - -“The decision in the case, then, will depend entirely on the political -sympathies of the jury, and the other side is not likely to allow any -man on it who has anti-slavery convictions. It would be a victory worth -while, Rhoda, if I could get you off! Not only for you, which would -gratify me enough, but for the anti-slavery cause! To have conviction -refused in a case as bare-faced as this would be a big blow toward -making the Fugitive Slave law a dead letter!” - -“If I could think,” said Rhoda earnestly, “that any act of mine would -help to bring that about, I’d be willing to undergo this all over -again.” - -He looked at her admiringly and drew his chair nearer, as he said: -“Well, you can rest assured that your attempt to help Mary Ellen is -having important results. And the waves are spreading out and getting -bigger, Rhoda!” Another hitch brought his chair still closer. - -“I’m glad of that, and I want you to remember, Horace, when you are -making your speech, that you are not to consider me or my sentence -at all. Say the thing that will help toward what we all want. Don’t -think about me--just think about Mary Ellen and what she was willing -to undergo, and all the rest of those poor black creatures that are -longing so for their freedom.” - -His chair was beside hers now and he was seizing her hand. “Rhoda! Not -think about you! How can I help it? Don’t you know I’m always thinking -about you and always hoping that some day you’ll think better about -what I’ve been hoping for so long? Isn’t there any chance, any prospect -of a chance, for me yet?” - -She laid her free hand upon his two that were clasping hers. “I’m -sorry, Horace! You know how much I like you, how much I prize your -friendship--but you are like a dear brother to me, Horace, and I can’t -think of you any other way!” - -“But isn’t it possible that sometime--don’t you think, Rhoda, that -after a while you’ll learn to like me the other way too? You know what -I am, you know how much I love you--won’t my heart’s love draw yours, -after a while?” - -She shook her head and drew her hands away. “No, Horace, there isn’t -any hope, not the least in the world. And I wish, dear Horace, I wish -you would put it quite out of your mind. Don’t waste any more time -thinking about me. There is many a nice girl who would make you a good -wife, and I do wish, Horace, for your own sake, you would fall in love -with one and marry her.” - -He looked at her searchingly. “When a girl talks that way she really -means it.” - -“You know I mean it, Horace.” - -“I mean, Rhoda, that she knows her own heart, clear through, and feels -sure about it.” - -“That’s the way I know mine,” she answered softly. - -He seized her hand again as he exclaimed, “Does that mean, Rhoda, that -there is some one else and that your heart is full already?” - -“Yes, Horace. It means that I love some one else so deeply that I can -never have a love thought for any other man. I love him with all my -heart, although I don’t suppose I shall ever marry him. But I shall -never marry any one else, and I could no more think of you or any one -else with the kind of love you want than I could if I were his wife.” - -There was something like reverence in the gesture with which he put -down her hand. “Then that is the end of it for me, Rhoda. Would -you mind telling me, is it that”--he paused an instant, supplying -mentally the adjective with which he usually thought of Rhoda’s -lover--“slaveholder, Delavan, from Kentucky?” - -“Yes, Horace.” - -He rose and took up his hat. “If that’s the way it is with you,” he -began, then stopped, looking fixedly. “Poor girl!” he went on, resting -his hand lightly for an instant upon her head. “You ought to have had a -happier fate!” - -“It’s as good as I deserve, Horace,” she replied cheerfully. Then her -face lighted with the glow that had been in her heart since Delavan’s -visit, and she went on: “And it might have been so much worse!” - -That same glow, as of profound inward happiness, was upon her -countenance the next day as she sat in the court room. On one side of -her was her father and on the other sat Rachel Benedict, with wrinkled -hands primly folded in the lap of her plain gray gown, her kindly, -bright old eyes and sweet smile bent now and then upon her young -friend as she whispered some encouraging word. Behind her were Mrs. -Hardaker and Marcia Kimball and other friends from the Hillside Female -Anti-Slavery Society. - -In the back of the room, throughout the trial, sat Jefferson Delavan. -He was always in his place in the same seat, when she entered, and -their eyes would meet once and a faint smile play around her lips for -an instant. Then she would not look again in his direction, but her -face kept always its glow of inward happiness. - -Horace Hardaker sat with his gaze moodily fixed upon Delavan’s dark -head. Jeff’s eyes were upon Rhoda’s face and Hardaker felt resentfully -that within their depths must lie some hint of the lover’s yearning. It -was almost time for him to begin his address. But his thoughts were not -upon what he was about to say nor upon how he could most move the jury. -Instead they were busy, with indignant wonder, upon how “that damned -slaveholder” had contrived to win the rich and undying love of such a -girl as Rhoda Ware. - -For the way of a man with a maid is always a sealed book to other men. -A woman can guess, or she knows instinctively, how and why another -woman has won a man’s love. But the side of a man’s nature with which -he does his wooing is so different from any manifestation of himself -that he makes among his fellows that to them it is an unknown land. -Therefore they are inclined to be skeptical as to its attractiveness. - -But Hardaker was much more than skeptical. He was irritated, and even -angry, that “such a man as that” should have dared to think himself -worthy of Rhoda’s love. And when he presently rose to address the jury -the rankling in his heart lent sharper vigor to every thrust he made -against the slave power and put into his tones a savage indignation -as, with eyes fixed upon Delavan’s face, he thundered his indictments. - -An audience of character and intelligence crowded the court room to the -doors, while outside, in the hall and around the windows people stood -on benches, listening intently, for hours at a time. From all over the -county, from surrounding counties, and from as far away as Cleveland, -men of substance and of prominence had left their homes and business -and journeyed hither to listen to the proceedings and to testify by -their presence their sympathy with the defense. - -But the pro-slavery side also had its representatives, although in -the minority, who were of equal consequence and standing. It was such -an audience as would gratify any attorney, wishing to influence the -community as well as the jury. - -As he rose for his address Hardaker presented a manly, attractive -figure and a vigorous, almost a magnetic, personality. Sweeping the -court room with his eyes, he waited for a moment and then began with a -couplet from a popular anti-slavery song, a song that had roused the -echoes in thousands of enthusiastic gatherings, all over the North. No -one within the reach of his voice needed any explanation of its meaning: - - “’Tis the law of God in the human soul, - ’Tis the law in the Word Divine.” - -He quoted the injunction of the Mosaic law against the returning of an -escaped servant and the commands of the New Testament for the succor -of the oppressed, and in vivid language set them forth as the law of -the Divine Word, the command of God, and therefore infinitely more -binding upon men and women who believed in God and accepted the Bible -as his Word than any law made by man in defiance of the Almighty’s -command. In a voice that gave full value to its pathetic appeal he told -the story of Mary Ellen’s heroic endeavor to escape from bondage and -a fate “like unto the fires of hell.” Then he called upon the fathers -and mothers of all young girls to tell him if the command of Christ, -“Do unto others as you would that others do unto you,” had lost all -its meaning, if humanity, Christianity, fatherhood--even ordinary -manhood--no longer felt its force. Following the precedent set by a -number of lawyers of wide reputation he analyzed the relation of the -Fugitive Slave Act to the Constitution and concluded that it violated -the rights guaranteed by the basic law of the country, and therefore, -since it was unconstitutional, to disregard its provisions was not -unlawful and his client had committed no crime. - -“This law was passed at the behest of the slave power,” he declared. -“It was conceived in iniquity, the iniquity of the South’s -determination to put upon slavery the seal of national approval; it was -begotten in corruption, the corruption of compromise and bargain; and -it was born in the dastardly willingness of misrepresentatives of the -people to truckle to Southern arrogance and betray the convictions and -the conscience of the North. - -“Shall we then, free men and women of Ohio, betrayed as we have been -and misrepresented as we are by this so-called law, be expected to -cast aside the commands of Christianity and the obligations of common -brotherhood, transform ourselves into bloodhounds to chase the panting -fugitive and send him back to his chains and, as in this case, to -such a hell of lust and vice as all decent manhood and womanhood must -shudder at? In the name of all that humanity holds sacred, I answer, -no! A thousand times, no! - -“The learned counsel for the prosecution has seen fit to sneer at our -belief in the higher law,” Hardaker went on, with body erect and hand -upraised, his full, melodious, resonant voice filling the court room -and the corridors and carrying his words even into the street. “I -answer that that law has my entire allegiance and that I stand here to -defend and uphold it and to demand the rights of those who feel bound, -as I do, by its commands. I feel assured, and you well know, gentlemen -of the jury, that I voice the sentiments of thousands upon thousands -of Christ-loving and God-fearing men and women when I say that if any -fleeing bondman comes to me in need of help, protection, and means of -flight, so help me the living God in my hour of greatest need, he -shall have them all, even to the last drop of my life’s blood!” - -Like the sudden upburst of a volcano, the court room broke into -resounding applause. Men sprang to their feet, swung their hats and -cheered. Women stood upon benches, waved handkerchiefs and clapped -their hands. The rapping of the judge’s gavel and the cries of the -officers for “order in the court” were drowned in the uproar and hardly -reached even their own ears. Then the sharp insistence of hisses began -to be heard. Jefferson Delavan, who had been listening with hands -clenched, frowning brows and angry eyes, added his voice to the sounds -of disapproval. For a few minutes the tumult continued, and then, at -the judge’s order, the court officers began forcing the people out. - -They poured into the street and organized a mass-meeting in the square -in front of the court house. Numbers of men came running from all -directions and while the meeting was in progress word filtered out that -the jury had found the prisoner guilty and the judge’s sentence had -imposed a fine of one thousand dollars and costs and imprisonment for -thirty days. - -Resolutions were at once passed denouncing the judge and deciding, -“since the courts no longer dispensed justice,” to proceed to the jail, -liberate the other prisoners and protect them from the operations of -“an outrageously unjust and tyrannous enactment.” - -Delavan, looking on at the outskirts of the gathering, heard the -resolutions. He knew that Rhoda would soon be conducted back to her -quarters in the jail and he ran thither, hoping to arrive before the -crowd of rescuers. In custody of the marshal she had just reached the -jail entrance. - -“Rhoda!” he exclaimed. “You are in danger here! A mob is coming to -break in the doors. Marshal, bring her with me, so we can find a place -of safety for her.” - -She drew herself up and looked at him with the same pale face and -brilliant eyes with which in the woods, so long ago, she had opposed -his quest for his fugitive slave. Scarcely she seemed the same being -who, only a few days before, had almost trembled into his embrace. - -“No,” she said slowly, “these are my people and with them is where I -belong. This is where your law has sent me and while I am in its power -I want no place of safety. Marshal, take me in!” - -The marshal was doubtful, asked Delavan what he meant and what he -purposed to do, and while he hesitated the mob came rushing up the -street and his only course was to hurry inside with her and bar the -door. - -The mass of men surged against the jail entrance and with pieces of -timber and bars of iron soon forced their way in. Then they trooped -through the building, sweeping along all the prisoners who were -awaiting trial under the Fugitive Slave law. They urged Rhoda to walk -out into freedom and defiance of her sentence. But she smilingly shook -her head and told them: - -“No, thank you. It’s better to serve out my sentence, and then I’ll be -free to defy the law again in my own way.” - -Exultantly the throng poured out into the street again with the -prisoners, and faced two companies of militia, ready to fire. Even the -hottest heads among them paused at this and after some parleying they -agreed to disperse and allow the men to be taken back to confinement. - -Among those awaiting trial for aiding in Mary Ellen’s rescue and escape -were the pastor of the leading Presbyterian church in the town, the -superintendent of a Methodist Sunday School, a professor from Oberlin -College who had happened to be in the place on that day, a merchant, -two lawyers and a physician, together with some clerks, laboring men, -a farmer and several free negroes. The day following the conclusion of -Rhoda’s trial was Sunday, and the Presbyterian minister preached from -the jail yard to a large concourse of people who stood for two hours -in a biting wind, for it was now well on in the winter, listening with -the closest attention. The sermon, which was mainly an anti-slavery -address, added fuel to the already flaming excitement. - -Meetings were held and bands of men began to organize and arm -themselves. Militia guarded the jail night and day. The pro-slavery -sympathizers, though in the minority in this region, yet made up a -considerable share of the populace, and, angered and uneasy, they also -began to prepare for whatever might happen. To hints that the Fugitive -Slave law prisoners might yet be delivered from jail they retaliated -with threats that those of their own party who were under durance for -infraction of state laws should no longer suffer imprisonment. - -So acute did the situation become that Governor Chase hurried to -Washington to consult with President Buchanan, assuring him that while -he intended to support the federal government, as long as its authority -was exercised legitimately, nevertheless he felt it his duty to protect -the state officials and the state courts and that this should be done, -though it took every man in the state to do it. - -Finally, a compromise was arranged by which the federal government -dropped the remaining prosecutions for the escape of Mary Ellen and -released the prisoners, while the state authorities dismissed the suits -against the slave trader’s agent and his companion and the members of -the marshal’s posse. - -The episode was amicably settled, but the flames of contention had been -so fed by it that they mounted higher and higher. Meetings continued -to be held all over those portions of the state where anti-slavery -sentiment was strong. They culminated, soon after Rhoda’s release, -in an immense mass-convention at Cleveland attended by many thousand -people and addressed by public men of distinction, where, amid the -greatest enthusiasm, resolutions were passed denouncing the Dred Scott -decision and declaring the Fugitive Slave Act unconstitutional and -therefore void. - -In the pocket of the dress she had worn on the day of her arrest -Rhoda chanced to find, soon after this convention, Charlotte’s note -telling of her engagement. She smiled soberly as she thought of all the -consequences that had resulted from this manifestation of her sister’s -puckish spirit. - -“If she hadn’t misled me this way,” Rhoda’s thoughts ran, “I wouldn’t -have forgotten about everything else the way I did for a few minutes, -and I would have kept watch of Mary Ellen and made her keep her veil -down, and then that man wouldn’t have recognized her, and we’d have -gone right on and nothing would have happened!” - -Rhoda’s trial aroused the keenest interest all over the North. But -it was an interest that cared only for principles. The personalities -of those engaged in the matter were of the slightest consequence. -Everywhere, in newspapers and in conversation, there was discussion -of the affair, and of the consequences to which it might lead. But the -people concerned in it were only so many cogs in a mighty Wheel of -Fate, turning resistlessly, and ever about to bring into the present, -out of the unknown future, no man could tell what. - -To the South and its northern sympathizers the whole affair was -irritating and alarming in high degree. Democratic newspapers and their -readers declared the attitude of “Chase and his abolition crew” to -be equivalent to a declaration of war against the United States and -welcomed the prospect, while the compromise by which the difficulty was -finally settled they described with bitterness as “another triumph” -for the creed of the “traitorous higher law with its open sanction of -treason and rebellion.” - -But there was one element in the North to whom Rhoda Ware’s share -in these events was not a matter of indifference. In the eyes of -the abolitionists she was a martyr to the cause to which they were -zealously devoted and during the month in which she served out her -sentence letters poured in upon her containing money for the payment -of her fine and warm words of praise. The Female Anti-Slavery Society -of Hillside sent her the whole of their small store, saying, “we shall -be proud to share even so little in the martyrdom of our beloved -president.” Rhoda wept over it, knowing well at what cost of personal -sacrifice the little hoard had been gathered. But she knew, too, -that to beg them to take back their offering would be to stab their -very hearts. Other anti-slavery societies in Ohio and elsewhere sent -contributions. There were checks from rich men in New York, New England -and Pennsylvania, whose purses were always open for the anti-slavery -cause and whose custom it was to give brotherly encouragement to -Underground operators who fell into the toils of the Fugitive Slave -Act by helping to pay their fines. The amount in which Rhoda had been -mulcted was entirely paid, as was the assessment in many another case, -by these enthusiastic co-workers. - -Most precious to her, however, were the letters which came from -abolitionists all over the country with their words of praise, -sympathy, encouragement and hope. Many of them were from men and women -whose names will be found in the pages of American history as long as -the conflict over slavery holds a place therein. Long afterward, when -many years of peace had enabled all the people of the land to look back -with calm philosophy upon those heated years of contention, and the -impartial muse of history had given to the Underground Railroad a high -place among the causes which brought on the Civil War and abolished -servitude, Rhoda Ware held these letters among her most prized mementos -of those stirring days of which she was a part. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV - - -The lilac bushes were again in bud and Rhoda Ware was looking at them, -pulling down here and there a tall one to see if it was not farther -advanced than the rest, and reckoning how soon they would burst into -flower, when she saw a tall, erect old man enter the gate. He came up -the walk with a peculiar directness of manner, as of one accustomed -to go forward with eyes and will upon a single aim. As he approached -and asked for Dr. Ware, Rhoda saw in his face something of that same -quality of underlying sternness, a sternness expressive rather of -uncompromising moral sense than of severity of feeling or of judgment, -that marked her father’s countenance. His silver-white beard, long and -full, lent to this austereness a patriarchal dignity. - -She took him to her father’s door, but Dr. Ware was engaged with a -patient. The stranger asked if it were not she who had been concerned, -the previous autumn, in the escape of the slave girl, Lear White, and -they talked of that affair and of the consequences to which it led. -She felt a magnetic quality in his grave and mellow tones, and in the -steady gaze of his deep-set eyes, alert, luminous, penetrating, she was -conscious of that compelling force that lies in the look of all men -able to impress themselves upon others. Presently he told her who he -was and she thrilled as she heard him speak the words, “Captain John -Brown, of Kansas.” - -“My father and I have spoken of you often, Captain Brown,” she said, -her eyes and face lighting with the admiration which abolitionists felt -for the man whom already they regarded as a hero. - -“Yes. We have known each other for many years, and we have been agreed -about slavery since a time when there were so few of us that we all -felt as brothers.” - -She had many questions to ask of matters in Kansas, where, she found, -he knew the husband of her friend, Julia Hammerton. As they talked she -saw presently that his eyes were fixed upon Bully Brooks, who, in full -grown feline dignity, was sunning himself on the veranda. The cat’s -air of complacent ease disappeared and, after some worried movements, -it suddenly sprang up with arched back and swelling tail, spat its -displeasure and ran away. Charlotte, coming in at the east gate, saw -her pet’s performance and shot a questioning glance at Rhoda and the -stranger as she passed them. - -A little later, when her father had taken Captain Brown into his -office, Rhoda found Charlotte with Bully Brooks in her lap, alternately -soothing his ruffled dignity and stirring him to angry protest. - -“Rhoda, who is that horrid old man?” she demanded. - -“Why do you call him horrid? He is the finest, noblest-looking old man -I’ve ever seen, and his character is as noble as his appearance.” - -“Oh, la! I asked you who he is.” - -Rhoda hesitated, considering whether or not it would be prudent to let -Charlotte know the identity of her father’s visitor. For there was much -pro-southern sentiment in Hillside and, although John Brown was not yet -an outlaw with a price on his head, he was detested and considered an -active enemy by all friends of the South. Charlotte noted her pause and -bent upon her a keen gaze. Apparently Rhoda did not want to tell her -who he was and therefore it became at once an urgent necessity for her -to find out. Rhoda felt those intent brown eyes studying her face and -decided it would be better not to give her sister reason for suspecting -any mystery. - -“I suppose he’s some old nigger-stealer,” Charlotte was saying, still -watching Rhoda’s expression, “and that’s why you think he’s such a -noble character. Lloyd thinks, and so do I, that nigger-stealing ought -to be punished by hanging.” - -Rhoda smiled at her. “Would my little sister like to see me hanging -from a limb of that maple tree yonder?” - -“But you’d quit if you knew you were going to be hung for it.” - -“No, I wouldn’t.” - -Charlotte regarded her with wide eyes. In her secret heart she was -beginning to feel not a little awe of this quiet elder sister upon -whose countenance she sometimes surprised a look of exaltation. And -therefore, to save her own sense of dignity, immensely increased by the -prospect of her marriage, she had taken refuge in a patronizing manner. - -“Of course you would,” she said, with a superior air and a toss of -her pretty head. “You say that just to brave it out. Has old Mr. -White-Beard come to help you make plans to get arrested again?” - -“No. He wanted to see father.” - -“Oh, well! Who is he? John Brown, or Horace Greeley, or Governor Chase? -One of them is as bad as another and they’re all tarred with the same -brush.” - -“Which do you think?” asked Rhoda calmly. - -Charlotte leaned forward, all eagerness, her intuitions, as they so -often did, flashing straight to the truth. “Not John Brown?” she -ejaculated. Rhoda nodded, and Charlotte drew back with a little gasp -and then seized the cat in her lap with extravagant exclamations of -pride and affection. - -“My precious Bully Brooks! You knew who he was, didn’t you, and you -told him what you thought of him! He’s a regular old ogre, Rhoda, -and Bully Brooks felt it, didn’t you, you darling cat! And you shall -go with Charlotte, when she’s married, to Corey’s Hall, so you shall, -where there won’t be any nigger-stealers to make you angry.” - -Rhoda looked on with amusement. Not even yet, although Charlotte’s -wedding day was fast approaching, could she think of her sister as -other than a merry sprite, a spoiled child, of whom it would be too -much to expect the sense of ordinary responsibilities. But now a -feeling of uneasiness grew upon her, and when presently both rose to go -into the house she said: - -“By the way, sister, please remember that it is not necessary for you -to tell any one about Captain Brown’s being here, either now or after -he has gone.” - -Charlotte tilted her chin saucily and laughed. “Don’t you know, Rhoda, -that I never make promises--except for the fun of breaking them? -Besides, I’m a southerner now.” - -Rhoda laid her hand gently upon the other’s shoulder. “Stop, sister. -This is a serious matter. I can’t forget that once you played the -traitor--pardon me, there is no other word for it, although I don’t -think you meant it that way--but it was the traitor to father and to -me. You know how much father loves you and how he’ll miss you after -you’re married. Do you want to make him feel so much safer then that -he can’t help being glad you’re gone?” - -It was a new experience for even Rhoda to take her reckless audacities -with so much seriousness, and she looked up wonderingly, at first with -pouting and then with trembling lips. “I don’t see why you want to make -me so unhappy at home, when I’m soon going to leave it,” she sobbed. -“Do you want to make me hate my home and be glad to go away?” - -Rhoda longed to take the dainty, drooping little figure into her arms -and speak words of soothing. But she held to her purpose. “Do you want -to make father, who loves you so much, glad to have you go away?” - -Charlotte stamped her foot. “Of course I don’t!” she exclaimed, her -fists in her eyes. “And you’re perfectly horrid to say such things!” - -At once Rhoda gave way to compassion, for she felt that she had gained -her point. She drew her sister within her arm, patting her shoulder and -kissing her forehead. “There, there, dear! Never mind. I only wanted to -make sure we could trust you.” - -In the afternoon when Dr. Ware was ready to make his round of visits, -he asked Rhoda to go with him upon a trip he had to make into the -country. As they drove through the glistening young spring he told her -of his conversation with his morning’s visitor. - -“Captain Brown gave me permission to talk it over with you,” he said. -“I assured him you could be trusted.” Rhoda’s heart swelled with -pleasure at her father’s words and at the matter-of-fact way in which -he spoke them, for both words and manner made her know how habitual -with him their companionship had become. - -“I’ve known him for a good many years,” Dr. Ware went on, “and I’ve -always believed that some day he’d strike a big blow, square on -slavery’s head, do some big thing that would help immensely to get rid -of it. For a man of Brown’s intelligence, character and personality -can’t live half his lifetime absorbed by one idea without making -something happen. He and I agree on one point, that slavery can be -wiped out only by violence. We both see that its roots have gone so -deep that to pull them up will make a terrible upheaval. He hasn’t the -faith that I have, hasn’t any, in fact, in political measures and the -Republican party. He doesn’t believe, as I do, that all this is helping -to keep the roots from spreading and getting stronger, and that it will -make our victory quicker and easier, when the time for violence does -come. - -“He thinks that time is nearly here and that he is going to bring it -about. He proposes to establish himself, before long, somewhere along -the free-state border, with a band of picked followers, drilled in -arms, and gather into his fortified camp all the negroes from the -near-by plantations. Such of these as wish to go to Canada will be -passed on by the Underground, while those who prefer will stay with him -and help gather in more slaves from greater distances. As the success -of his forays becomes known he thinks that other men will join him from -all over the North, until his army, increased also by daring spirits -from among the fugitive slaves, will be so large and formidable and -slave property be made so insecure that slavery will collapse like the -shell of a ruined house.” - -Rhoda’s cheeks were flushed and her eyes shining. “What a daring -scheme, father! Do you think it will succeed?” - -Dr. Ware smiled doubtfully and shook his head. “I don’t think he can -carry it through to the end he feels sure of, and I told him so this -morning. But his heart is set on it. He has been slowly maturing the -plan for twenty-five years, and has even made a tour of the great -battlefields and important fortifications of Europe, studying them -in the light of this purpose. It seems to me impossible that he can -succeed. But he’ll scare the South out of its wits and make it angrier -and more determined than ever, and that will be a good thing. With the -rising tide of public opinion in the North, it will bring the clash -that’s bound to come a big notch nearer.” - -“Did he want you to join him, father?” - -“Yes. I knew about his plan--we’ve talked of it before. I have so much -faith in the power of the one-ideaed man to achieve things that I’ve -always told him he could call on me for any help it was in my power to -give. I’ve contributed what I could to his Kansas campaign, and I gave -him this morning for this scheme all I could spare. I told him, too,” -Dr. Ware hesitated a little over his words now, “that I might join him -in person somewhat later, if his first attempts prove successful, and -that perhaps you would come too. For with your knowledge of nursing you -would be useful. Do you think you would care to throw yourself into -such a scheme as his, full of danger and sure to fail, but likely to -deliver an effective blow?” - -His eyes were upon her, clear and calm as usual, but brilliant now with -the fires of zeal. As they searched her face her own looked back at -him, as glowing with zeal as his. “You know I would, father--you did -right to tell him so. I’m always ready to go anywhere or do anything -that will help our cause. But--mother--what about mother?” - -He shook his head sadly and turned away. “Your mother, Rhoda, is -incurably ill. She cannot be with us much longer. I had her consult two -physicians in Cincinnati on her way home from Fairmount, and they both -told her it is only a question of time.” - -“Oh, father! Can’t we do anything for her? Why didn’t you tell me -before?” - -“There is nothing we can do but make her as comfortable and care free -as possible while she is with us. I didn’t tell you before because she -didn’t want you to know about it until after Charlotte’s wedding, and -she doesn’t want Charlotte to know it at all. She wants everything to -be as cheerful and happy as possible while Charlotte is here. Please -don’t let her guess that you know.” - -Charlotte was to be married in May, and during the remaining weeks of -that time Rhoda watched her mother with anxious and loving care, taking -upon herself, as Mrs. Ware seemed willing to relinquish it, every -household responsibility, and noted with aching heart the wasting of -her face and figure. - -“I believe she is just keeping up by her will power,” Rhoda said to Dr. -Ware, “so that there shall be nothing to make Charlotte unhappy during -her last weeks at home.” - -“Yes,” assented her father, “she wants Charlotte to remember the months -of her engagement as the happiest time in her life. We must be prepared -for a reaction after it is all over.” - -After Rhoda’s trial and imprisonment no mention of that matter was -ever made between her and her mother. When she returned home Mrs. Ware -received her with the utmost love and tenderness, but without the -least reference to the reasons for her absence. In neither words nor -manner did she recognize that that absence had been anything other than -an ordinary social visit and if it had to be spoken of she referred to -it merely as the time “when you were away.” - -So, now, she made no sign to either her husband or her daughter that -she had any knowledge of the Underground activities in which they were -engaged or of the fugitive slaves who were sheltered in the house. -Rhoda was never able to guess whether she knew much or little of what -went on under her roof nor whether or not she resented it or was -grieved by it. But the girl’s heart ached constantly with sympathy for -what she felt must be her mother’s pain. - -Her compassion and sorrow, however, did not lead her to consider for -a moment the idea of giving up the work. Rather, they inspired her to -greater zeal, in both thought and action, and to more intense desire -to aid in the destruction of slavery. For, in her mind, whatever grief -her mother felt, whatever alienation there was between them, were among -the evil results of the slave system, just as was the division between -her and Jefferson Delavan, and the only way of rightfully fully meeting -them was to attack their cause. - -At the wedding Rhoda was bridesmaid and Delavan was groomsman. As she -saw her mother’s eyes fixed wistfully upon them she felt fresh twinges -of self-reproach. She knew the deep pleasure that Charlotte’s marriage -to a southerner had brought to the ailing woman, and she knew that this -would be as nothing beside her satisfaction and delight could she see -her other daughter united in marriage to the son of her old friend. -Could it be, after all, Rhoda began to ask herself, that here was where -her highest duty lay? Ought she, at whatever cost to herself, make -happy her mother’s last days? - -It seemed to Rhoda that everything conspired, throughout the wedding -festivities, to bring her and Delavan alone together, although she knew -that they were both trying to avoid such meetings. But he forebore to -speak of love, and afterward the merry friendliness of these brief -occasions, just touched as they were with the fragrance of intimacy, -were among her dearest memories. - -When he bade her good-by she felt the lover in his manner and his voice -as he said: “It has been two years, Rhoda, but I shall wait two years -more, and ten times that, before I give up hope of our wedding!” - -Rhoda looked at him with her flashing smile, that lifting of her short -upper lip and trembling at its corners and lighting of her eyes, which -always sent through his veins a fresh thrill of love, and answered: -“Oh, Jeff! What a long time to prepare for a wedding in!” - -After it was all over Mrs. Ware failed rapidly. Rhoda watched her -wasting cheeks and growing feebleness with an agony of compassion and -constant tumultuous questioning of herself. Her mother had not spoken -to her for a long time about Delavan’s suit, but she knew that the wish -was gathering strength in her breast as she came nearer and nearer to -death’s door. Rhoda felt it in the wistful look with which the brown -eyes, grown so large and childlike in the peaked face, followed her -about the room. It spoke to her in the plaintive appeal of the soft -southern voice and it pulled mightily at her heartstrings in the -clinging to hers of the thin hands, a little while ago so plump and -fair. - -With her own heart playing traitor, as it always did with every -weakening of her resolution, with love and compassion for the invalid -pleading incessantly, with a remorse-wrung conscience recalling every -hurt she had ever given to her mother and urging that she ought to -salve those many wounds with this final atonement, the torment of it -became almost greater than she could bear. - -One day she found her father alone in his office and, impelled by her -distraught heart, she forgot her usual restraints, flung herself on her -knees beside his chair and laid her face against his knee. - -“Oh, father,” she begged, “help me to see what I ought to do! I know -mother wants me to marry Jeff--she doesn’t say a word about it, but I -feel all the time that it is making her last days full of sorrow. It -seems to me sometimes that I can’t stand it another minute, that I must -give up, because it will make her happy. Would it help her, father, if -I did?” - -Dr. Ware laid his hand upon her shoulder. Even in her wretchedness the -action gave her a little thrill of pleasure, for it was nearer a caress -than she could remember he had ever given her. - -“Nothing can help your mother now, child. With her, it is a matter of a -few months, or weeks, or, perhaps, even days. It would make her happy -for that little time--I know it as well as you do. You could feel that -you had enabled her to end her days in peace. But whether or not you -ought to sacrifice your sense of right to your sense of duty to her is -something that only you can decide.” - -“I know it, father,” she answered in low tones as she rose to her feet -and wiped the tears from her eyes. - -She went out into the yard, gay with the luxuriant blooms of early -summer. The white petunias sent up their fragrance and the memories it -brought pierced her very heart with poignant sweetness. She went on -into the grape arbor and sat down in its cool shadows, asking herself -why it was that she could keep her own soul clean only at the expense -of another’s happiness. - -“My happiness, Jeff’s happiness,” she thought, “they are of our own -making and we can choose our own conditions. But mother, poor, dear, -little mother, so sick, with such a little while to live, and her -happiness so bound up in this! And if I do it I shall feel all my -life that it was wrong, that my soul isn’t clean. Oh, mother, how can -I become a part of this abomination of slavery, this vile, accursed -thing! I’d be glad to die, a hundred times over, for you--but to live -and be a part of such wickedness-- Oh, mother, how can I? How can I?” - -The end came sooner than they expected. On a hot afternoon in -midsummer, when the late, red rays of the sun, shining through the -half-closed shutters, lay in bands across the floor, Mrs. Ware called -Rhoda. “Come close, honey, down beside me,” she said, and Rhoda knelt -at the bedside. Her mother slipped a feeble arm around her neck. - -“You’ve been a dear, loving daughter to me,” she said, “even if we’ve -thought so differently about some things. You are like your father, -Rhoda, and that has always been a pleasure to me. You’ve wanted to make -me happy, just as he always has, and in almost everything you have. No -mother ever had a better, dearer daughter than you, honey.” - -“Oh, mother,” Rhoda exclaimed, the tears welling into her eyes, for in -the pale, pitiful face she saw the shadow of the death angel’s wing and -felt his near approach in the chill that struck into her own breast. -“Dear mother, I’ve never done half enough for you, never been half as -good and loving to you as you deserved!” - -“Always you have, dear, except in one thing. You know how much for two -years I’ve wanted you to marry Adeline’s son, dear Jeff. And you would -not. I haven’t much longer to live, and if you want to make my deathbed -happy promise me that you will. Oh, Rhoda, send for Jeff and marry him -here beside my bed and have your dying mother’s blessing!” - -Rhoda was sobbing with her face upon her mother’s shoulder. “Dearest -mother,” she pleaded, “don’t ask that of me.” - -“It’s the only thing in all the world that I want, honey. You love -Jeff, and he adores you, and I know that you’ll be happy together, if -you’ll only give up that nonsensical idea that has taken possession of -you. It’s your happiness that I want, Rhoda, yours and Jeff’s. And I -know, oh, so much better than you do, what makes a woman happy. I can’t -die feeling that I have done my duty to my little girl and made sure of -her happiness, unless she will promise me this. Will you do it, Rhoda?” - -“Let me be the judge of my happiness, mother, as you were the judge of -yours!” - -“Your mother knows best, child! Take her word for it, and let her bless -you with her last breath, as you’ll always bless her if you do. It’s -the last thing she’ll ever ask of you.” - -The invalid’s tones were growing weaker and something querulous sounded -in them as she repeated, “Promise me, Rhoda, promise!” - -The linked hands upon Rhoda’s neck loosened their hold and the tired -arms slipped down. She bowed her head upon her mother’s breast as she -sobbed, “Let me think for a minute, mother, dear! It breaks my heart -not to do what you want!” - -“It breaks mine, Rhoda, that you don’t. Oh, honey, let me die in peace -and happiness! Promise me that you’ll marry Jeff!” - -Rhoda saw that her father had entered the room and was standing at her -side. She sprang to her feet, threw her arms about his neck and with -her head upon his shoulder burst into a passion of tears. - -“Father, tell me what to do!” she wailed. - -His arms were about her, his face upon her hair, and his tears were -mingling with hers. In that supreme moment of grief, compassion and -struggle the icy barriers that had kept their hearts apart melted away -and they clung together in their common despair, groping through their -sobs for the right thing to say and do. - -Suddenly they were startled by a gay little laugh from the bed. “You’ve -come at last, have you, Adeline, dearest! How late you are!” the dying -woman exclaimed, holding out her hands in welcome. From her face the -shadow had passed and in its place shone a girlish happiness. She was -back again among the friends of her youth, chatting and laughing with -“dearest Adeline,” and calling upon “mammy” to do this and that. And -so, babbling of her girlhood’s pleasures, she passed into the dark -beyond. - - - - -CHAPTER XXV - - -During the late summer and autumn of that year Rhoda and her father -and their friends watched with the keenest interest, as did people -all over the country, the struggle in Illinois between Lincoln and -Douglas. In the Cincinnati and New York papers they read the speeches, -printed at length, of both the aspirants for senatorial honors, and on -many an evening, gathered on the veranda of the Ware home or, after -the evenings grew cool, around the fireplace in the living-room, they -discussed all the features of that famous intellectual wrestling match. - -Horace Hardaker had been nominated for Congress by the Republican party -and was conducting a vigorous campaign. Nevertheless, he found time -to come frequently up the hill to Dr. Ware’s house for these talks. -Marcia Kimball came also, at first with her brothers, but after a -little Rhoda observed that it was oftener with Hardaker that she made -her appearance and always upon his arm that she leaned when they went -away. With an inward smile Rhoda noticed too that Horace, with apparent -unconsciousness, began to address his conversation mainly toward Marcia. - -“I don’t expect to be elected,” he said one evening, “that is, not -this time. But I’m giving the ground a good, deep plowing, and there’ll -be a different crop to reap two years from now.” - -His opponent, a Douglas Democrat, won the day, but by so narrow -a margin that Hardaker was almost as exultant as if he had been -successful. “Two years more of the way things are going now,” he -declared, “and we’ll sweep the country!” - -“Suppose you do, what good will it do?” said old Mr. Kimball. “Your -Republican party expressly says it won’t interfere with slavery in the -South.” - -“It will bring on a crisis,” interjected Dr. Ware, “and a crisis -is exactly the thing we want. The South won’t stand a Republican -president. And when she tries to leave the Union the upheaval will -come.” - -Not long after the election Hardaker sought Rhoda in more buoyant mood -than ever, to tell her that he and Marcia were to be married. She -assured him that she was heartily glad, and really felt all that she -said, and even more. But her sincere rejoicing did not prevent her from -looking sadly out of her window that night and feeling that something -very dear and pleasant had gone out of her life beyond all recovery. -She would not, if she could, have held Hardaker’s love in fruitless -thrall, but it had been so comforting, so gratifying, to know how -surely it was hers and she had so grown to expect one of his recurrent -proposals every year or so that it cost her a little wrench now to give -it all up. - -“He’ll make Marcia a good, loving husband,” she thought, “and with his -talent and ambition he’ll succeed. Oh, they’ll be happy, and I’m glad.” - -Her eyes grew sad and the lines of her face drooped as she sat beside -her window. And after a while she took out the little box with its -treasure of letters and withered flower. She did not read the letters, -of which there was now nearly a box full, but turned them over -caressingly in her hands and now and then pressed one to her lips. - -Rhoda was bridesmaid when Horace and Marcia were married in the early -spring. “It’s your third time, isn’t it, dear,” said Marcia as her -friend draped about her shoulders the folds of her bridal veil. “I do -hope it will be you yourself, next time!” - -“So do I, Marcia!” said Rhoda frankly, looking up with a smile. -“There isn’t a girl anywhere who’d more willingly be a bride than I, -if--if--if!” - -“Rhoda, you’re the dearest, bravest girl!” cried Marcia, squeezing her -hand. “If I was in your place I’d be crying my eyes out instead of -laughing like that!” - -“Then I wouldn’t have you for my bridesmaid if you couldn’t give your -eyes a rest that long,” rejoined Rhoda gaily. - -Spring and summer came and went, and for Rhoda Ware the weeks passed -with uneventful flow. Through their house there trickled a thin stream -of slaves fleeing northward, sometimes half a dozen or more within a -week and sometimes not more than one or two. The trouble and cost of -recovering their runaway negroes, even when they were infrequently able -to get possession of them again, had caused the southern slaveholders -to give over their efforts. In these last years of the decade it was -unusual for a fugitive to be pursued and therefore the traffic of the -Underground was carried on with little risk. - -Rhoda busied herself with these duties, the ordering of her father’s -household, her anti-slavery work and her reading. Gradually the thought -grew up in her breast that she would like to study medicine. She talked -the matter over with her father and he offered, if she wished, to send -her to one of the medical colleges that within a few years had been -opened for women. But she would not leave him alone and so, under his -guidance, she spent her leisure time reading in his medical library, -discussing his cases with him, and often going with him upon his visits. - -Dr. Ware received an occasional brief letter from John Brown in which -his scheme was referred to with cautious phrasing as a speculation in -sheep. Toward midsummer he wrote that he was getting his shepherds -together and expected to collect a band of sheep in the Virginia -mountains, where he thought there would be good pasturage, about the -middle of October. - -“He is bound to come into collision with the federal government very -soon,” said Dr. Ware to his daughter as they talked this letter over -together. “Of course he knows that will be the end of his enterprise -and of him too.” - -“He won’t care,” answered Rhoda, “what becomes of him if he can make -just one thrust at slavery.” - -“That’s true. And the more I think of it the more I believe that even -if he fails in his first attempt, as he is very likely to do, it will -be a good strong thrust that will make the South fairly stagger. I told -him I’d wait to see whether or not he made a beginning before I decided -about joining him. But I doubt very much, Rhoda, whether you and I will -have a chance to work under John Brown.” - -“I’ll be ready to go whenever you say the word, father,” she said with -grave earnestness. - -Now and then a letter passed between Rhoda and Jefferson Delavan, a -letter of intimate friendliness, telling of personal matters and mutual -interests. Once only did he touch upon the slavery question, which -formerly they had argued with such earnestness, and then he filled a -long letter with an endeavor to prove to her that the negro race had -been benefited by slavery, that in taking it from its barbarous state -and bringing it in contact with civilization the slaveholders had -lifted it to a higher plane of moral and intellectual life. - -When she replied she said merely, “No more of that, please, if you -still love me! Each of us knows that the other’s convictions are honest -and deeply rooted. We can’t agree, so let’s not argue, but just enjoy -our friendship.” - -Nor was there in their correspondence any mention of love, or of -possible or impossible marriage. But toward the end of summer, when a -little band of men was warily gathering in a Maryland farmhouse, one of -Jeff’s letters set Rhoda’s heart to fluttering. There was in it, save -for some terms of endearment which seemed to have flowed unconsciously -from his pen, no putting into words of a lover’s hopes. But she felt -through every line the burning of the lover’s heart. And a few weeks -later there came a brief note saying, “I shall be in Hillside soon and -shall count on seeing you.” - -For a day Rhoda’s heart sang with joy, “He is coming, he is coming! -I shall see him, have him here beside me!” and would listen to no -warnings of her mind. - -Then she wrote, “Don’t come! I beg of you, Jeff, don’t come! What is -the use!” And lest her courage might fail her, she quickly sealed and -posted her missive. - -But when the October woods were bright with flaming color, and the -little band of men in the Maryland farmhouse were waiting for the order -to march, and Rhoda and her father were saying to each other every -morning, “There may be news to-day,” Jefferson Delavan appeared at her -door. - -“I told you not to come!” she said, and gave him her hand, while face -and eyes belied the meaning of her words. His heart gladdened at -their sweet shining as he held her hand in both of his and answered, -“And I disobeyed--because I couldn’t help it.” Then, for a moment, -their starving, delighted gaze fed upon each other’s eyes, until -Rhoda suddenly felt that he was about to break into lover’s speech. -Impulsively she laid a finger across his lips. He seized and held it -there while she exclaimed: - -“Don’t speak, Jeff, don’t say anything. It’s such a lovely day--the -hills are so beautiful--let’s have a ride together!” - -He agreed, glad of anything that would insure her presence near him, -and they were soon galloping over country roads and across the wooded -hills, brilliant in the gala robes with which Nature celebrates her -thanksgiving for another year of sun and life and growth. - -As they rode, the motion and the wine-like air and the joy in her heart -lifted Rhoda into exultant mood, deepened the wild rose-bloom in her -cheeks and kindled her serious eyes into sparkling gaiety. “Let me have -this little time!” her heart pleaded. “It may be the last. After _that_ -has happened he may never come again!” - -And so, with thrilling nerves and singing heart, the Cavalier in her -breast dominated the Puritan and sent to the four winds warnings -of conscience and thought of to-morrow. Forgotten was the safety -of the three fugitive slaves, at that moment hiding in her cellar, -forgotten the fateful Thing for whose birth in the Virginia mountains -she had been waiting, cast away from her mind was all thought of the -anti-slavery contest, nor was there room in her heart for zeal in its -cause. She was mere woman, loving and beloved, and glorying inwardly -in her power over her lover. Her Cavalier inheritance took possession -of her and bade her snatch the pleasure of the hour. Her father’s -offspring dwindled away into the smallest recesses of her nature and it -was her mother’s daughter who sat in the saddle, slender and graceful, -and with starry eye and alluring smile kindled fresh fires in her -lover’s breast. - -With pride and pleasure she saw them burning in his face and eyes as -he drew beside her and murmured, “Rhoda, you are so beautiful!” Her -mirror had told her many times, and she had agreed in its verdict, that -she was not beautiful. And so all the more precious to her was this -tribute of love, and more than once did she win it, as they rode and -rode, during the long afternoon. - -A sudden memory came of the tale of courtship her mother had told to -her and Jeff, on that June night so long ago, and across her mind’s eye -there flitted the vision she had often called up, of the pretty, wilful -girl and the resolute young man with his hand on her bridle, galloping, -galloping-- “And that was love--and this is love, and it is mine!” -her heart sang. Quickly her brain flashed back the question, “Would I -yield, as mother did, if--if--if--” And the Cavalier in her heart sang -back, exulting, “I would! I would!” - -On their way home they came to an old wood road and turned into it from -the cross-country way upon which they had been galloping. Checking -their horses they rode slowly down the brilliant avenue of gold and -russet and crimson, talking, now earnestly, now gaily, upon one or -another of the multitude of things, personal and impersonal, which to -lovers can bourgeon instantly into matters of moment and interest by -the mere fact of mention in the loved one’s voice. Gradually the road -dwindled away and they came upon steeper hills and a rocky surface. -But Rhoda knew where they were and said that by turning sharply to the -eastward they could gain the high road. Dismounting they led their -horses across the hills, the fallen autumnal glories billowing beneath -their feet. - -Already Rhoda’s mood had begun to sober. The Puritan was claiming his -own again. Down that wood road she had driven her buggy, on a winter -day, to bring out the fugitive negro lad whom she had sent flying to -the cave for safety from the pursuing marshal. They passed the cave -itself, where, more than three years previous, she had hidden the -mulatto, running for the freedom dearer than life from this very man -who was bending near her now with ardent looks of love. She shivered a -little as she remembered the slave’s sullen resolution, the pistol in -his hand, and the tone in which he had said, “I won’t go back.” As Jeff -bent with loving solicitude to draw her wrap closer about her shoulders -she was thinking, “And he said they were brothers.” - -They struck a path which climbed a steep hill, and when they came to a -jutting rock Delavan looked around him with sudden recollection. “Why, -I’ve been here before!” he exclaimed. “It was here I met you, dear, -that day--don’t you remember? What a long time you have made me wait, -sweetheart, for your promise!” His lover’s longing, made a hundredfold -more imperious by the allurement there had been all the afternoon in -her laugh, her voice, her smile, her lips, her eyes, her manner, would -be put aside no longer, and he turned upon her with an impetuosity that -would brook no protest. - -“Do you, remember, dearest, the proof of my love I gave you that -day? I’m ready to give you, here on this same spot, another proof, a -thousand times greater! It will sweep away everything that keeps us -apart, Rhoda! Everything!” - -She looked at him silently, sweet wonder parting her lips and shining -starlike in her big gray eyes. Her cheeks were paler now, with the -ebbing of the exultant tide that had kept her all the afternoon on its -crest. But to him this soft, subdued mood bespoke the sweetheart ready -to tremble into his embrace and made her all the more adorable. He -seized her hand and she let it lie in his close, warm grasp as he went -on: - -“I have made up my mind to give up everything to our love. I will free -all my niggers--for the sake of your dear conscience not one shall be -sold--and see that they find places where they can earn their livings. -Then I will sell my property and we will put this country and its -accursed contentions behind us. We will go to England, dear heart, -or France, and live where there will come hardly an echo of all this -strife to disturb our blessed content and happiness!” - -She dropped her eyes from his and for a long moment stood motionless -while it seemed to her that her very heart stood still. With swift -inner vision, like that of a drowning man, she saw those years of -wedded life, long years of comradeship and love and deepest joy, with -dear children growing up beside them, and her heart yearned toward its -peace and happiness with such urgency that she dared not try to speak. - -“Think, Rhoda, dear,” he was pleading, “think of the quiet, blissful -years that are waiting for us! Our two hearts together, and nothing, -nothing at all to come between them!” - -Her very lips were pale with desire of it as she whispered: “I am -thinking, and, oh, Jeff, the thought of it, the joy of it, almost -makes my heart stop beating. But have you thought, dear, dear Jeff, -what a sacrifice this will be for you? I know how much you love the -South. Would you never regret it, never wish to come back and throw -yourself into her service? If that should happen, it would be the end -of happiness for us both, for I should know it--our hearts would be -so close together--even if you didn’t say a word. Have you thought of -that, dear Jeff?” - -He smiled at her with loving confidence. “I’ve thought that all out, -dear heart. For weeks I’ve been thinking of it, and threshing it all -out in my mind, until I feel quite sure of myself. I do love my dear -Southland and as you know so well my ambition has always been to spend -my life in her service. But there are plenty of other men who can do -her work as well as I can, and not at the cost of their heart’s love -and life’s happiness. I am willing to let them do it while I take my -love and my happiness. My sweet! I knew your dear, generous heart would -ask me that!” He bowed over her hand, which he still held in his, and -pressed it to his lips. - -Her heart was pleading: “He is right. There are plenty of others who -can do his work, and there are surely many, many who can do what little -is possible for me better than I. Why not put it all aside and take the -love and happiness that belong to us?” And then, like an icy grip upon -her softening, yielding heart came remembrance of the Thing that was -about to happen in the Virginia mountains. - -She drew her hand from his and in sudden dismay walked apart a few -paces, saying, “Let me think for a minute, Jeff!” She dropped her -riding skirt, whose fulness she had been carrying over one arm, and its -long black folds swept around her slender figure as she leaned against -a tree with her face in her hands. So tall and straight and slim she -looked, drooping against the tree trunk, that the fancy crossed his -mind she was like some forsaken, grieving wood nymph, and all his body -ached with the longing to enfold her in his arms and comfort whatever -pain was in her heart. But his love as well as his courtesy forbade him -to intrude upon her while she stood apart, and he waited for her to -turn to him again. - -Rhoda was thinking of what she knew was about to happen and of what it -would mean to him. Her father had said that it would be like the sudden -ringing of an alarm bell and that, however this initial attempt turned -out, it might cause the whole South to take up arms at once and declare -war. She knew how her lover’s spirit would leap at such an emergency. -Did she wish to put his love and his promise to such a test at the very -beginning? Slowly she walked back and stood in front of him. - -“Jeff, this is truly a wonderful proof of your love that you have -given me!” Her voice was tremulous with desire of all she felt she -was putting away, but she went bravely on: “I don’t believe any other -woman ever had such proof! Indeed,” and she smiled tenderly at him, “I -don’t believe any other woman was ever loved quite so much. It makes me -feel your love in my heart, oh, so much more precious than even it was -before! But I want you to be quite sure, dear Jeff!” - -“I am sure, sweetheart!” he broke in. - -“But won’t you wait a little while, two weeks, no, three weeks, before -I--we decide? I ask you to go home, at once, and not to see me or write -to me for three weeks more. And then you can let me know whether or -not you still wish to put your ideals and ambitions aside for the sake -of love. But I want you to consider the question then just exactly as -if we had never talked of it before. You are not to feel yourself in -the least bound by what you have told me to-day. If anything should -happen between now and then that makes you feel that the South still -has a claim upon you, anything that would make you in the very least -unwilling to--to carry out this plan, then I want you to tell me so -frankly--with perfect frankness, dear Jeff, as perfect as our love.” - -“And is that all the hope you will give me, dearest?” he pleaded. “No -promise to take back with me?” - -She was standing beside the path, on the rising ground a little above -him, and she leaned toward him, resting her hands lightly upon his -shoulders as she said, her face all tenderness: - -“Dear Jeff, it is for your sake I am asking it!” - -He seemed scarcely to hear what she said, and touched her cheek with a -caressing palm as he exclaimed, “Rhoda, my sweet, your face is like a -guardian angel’s!” - -Before Jefferson Delavan reached Fairmount again the Thing had happened -that made the North gasp with wonder and set the South beside itself -with fear and rage. The amazing audacity of John Brown’s attack upon -Harper’s Ferry and the rankling distrust between the two sections make -reasonable, to impartial eyes of a later day, the alarming significance -which the southern people, especially those in the border states, saw -in Brown’s foredoomed enterprise. The slaveholders of Kentucky were -aroused to almost as extreme a pitch of angry apprehension and defiance -as were the people of Virginia. - -Rhoda Ware had not to wait even three weeks for the expected letter -from Jefferson Delavan. - -“You were right,” he wrote. “You saw the obstacles that lie between us -more clearly than I did--or, perhaps, you had more information than I -of the treacherous lengths to which the North would dare to go in the -desire to overthrow the ordinary rights of a state and to undermine the -power of the government under which both sections have solemnly sworn -to live. This attempt to incite the slaves to insurrection and the -butchery of their masters proves to all of us that neither property nor -life is safe in the South. At any moment another plot may break forth, -no man can tell where, and be more successful than this one was. The -South needs now, more than she ever did before, every one of her sons -whom she can trust. I cannot desert her in her hour of peril. From the -bottom of my heart I thank you, Rhoda, that you made it possible for me -to remain, without dishonor, in the position where every instinct of -duty and honor and loyalty demands that I stay. It was like you to know -that, much as I love you, love would have to yield to honor if it came -to a test between the two, and it has made me love you all the more, -if that were possible, to know that your love is so rich and noble and -generous. - -“God knows what the future may hold for us two. For the first time -since our love began I can see no hope for us. The feeling between -the North and the South grows intolerable and the bonds between them -cannot last much longer. As long as the South and her interests are in -danger, my conscience, my sense of duty, my loyalty, all my ideals and -aspirations, bid me stay here. And here I know you will not come. - -“But whatever happens, dear, I shall always thank God that I have had -the privilege of knowing and loving you, while the knowledge that you, -such a peerless woman as you, have loved me will be as long as I live -the most precious treasure of my heart. I have many dear memories -of our love, but the dearest of them all is of that last day we had -together, that splendid ride, when you were so adorable, and of all the -sweet pictures of you that I cherish the sweetest of all is of your -face as you leaned toward me in the wood and said, ‘It is for your -sake, dear Jeff.’ - -“Only God knows whether or not we shall ever see each other again. But -I shall always love you, and as long as we both live I shall treasure -in my heart the belief that you still love me. Good-by, dear heart.” - -“At last, it is all over,” Rhoda said to herself when she had read -the letter. “He sees, at last, as I did so long ago, that there is no -hope for us. No--he sees none, now, but I can a little. John Brown has -brought the war ten years nearer, father says, and any time it may -come. And the war will end slavery. But it’s best not to hope too -much.” - -She took out the box of his letters and read them all over again, -touching them tenderly and kissing the withered rose. “I’d better burn -them all now,” she told herself, “and try not to think so much about it -after this.” - -With such pain in her heart as might have been in Abraham’s when he led -Isaac to the altar, she carried her little love treasure to the fire. -But even as she held it poised over the flames her resolution failed -her. It was too much a part of herself and she could not do it. The -little box was put away again in its hiding place and in the months -that followed, whenever the ache in her breast would not be hushed in -any other way, she solaced her love and longing by reading the letters -over and over again, until she almost knew them, word for word. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVI - - -A year and a half and more went by before Rhoda again saw Delavan. The -campaign of 1860, with its grim earnestness and sober exaltation, had -passed. She had been stirred by it to her heart’s core, as had all men -and women of the North, and had shared her father’s satisfaction over -the result. Hers was indeed an even deeper and gladder satisfaction -than his, for to passionate abhorrence of slavery and the belief that -now was the beginning of its end was added her secret small hope that -afterward might come the fulfilment of her long denied love. - -“We mustn’t forget, Rhoda,” her father said as they talked over the -results of the election, “that probably only a rather small percentage -of those who voted for Lincoln want to have slavery abolished in -the states where it already exists. They really think the national -government has no right to interfere. But if there is war, and -undoubtedly there will be, a man of Lincoln’s shrewd common-sense will -know that by freeing the slaves he will cut off the South’s right hand. -With such a man as he is in the president’s chair I feel confident, -though a good many abolitionists don’t, that we can look forward to the -end of slavery.” - -The southern states were leaving the Union and the Confederacy had -been organized. Rhoda knew that Kentucky was rent almost to her every -hearthstone with discussion of whether North or South should have -her loyalty. Charlotte had lately written: “Everybody is all torn -into strips over the question whether or not Kentucky shall join the -Confederacy. Nobody talks or thinks or dreams of anything else. But -Lloyd and I are going to secede, whether Kentucky does or not.” - -Now and then, at long intervals, had come a brief letter from Jefferson -Delavan. But he said nothing in any of these missives of love and but -little of the mighty questions that were absorbing the minds and hearts -and souls of men, women and children, North and South, and her replies -were of the same sort. It was as if two loving but far divided souls, -journeying through space, sought now and then by a faint call to bridge -the distance between them. - -The tense, dark days of Lincoln’s inauguration were over, the guns of -Sumter had cleared away the last clouds of uncertainty, and war was at -hand. - -The lilacs were in bloom again and Rhoda, moving slowly down the path, -broke off here and there a branch and presently stood at the front -gate, her fragrant burden gathered loosely into one arm against her -white dress. In her delight in their delicate beauty and savor she bent -her face to the flowers, forgetting for the moment the things of the -outside world. When she lifted it again Jefferson Delavan stood before -her. - -“I have come to say good-by, Rhoda,” was his greeting, as he entered -the gate. - -“Good-by?-- You are--going--” she stammered. - -“I am going to join the fortunes of the South,” he replied, as they -walked up the path. “Kentucky has been false to her sister states and -deserted them when they need her most. By a single vote she has decided -upon neutrality. You, Rhoda, can understand what a bitter dose that is -for me.” - -“You can’t endure it?” she hesitated as they turned into the walk to -the grape arbor. - -“No, I can’t, and there are many other Kentuckians who feel as I do. I -am going at once to join the southern army, and Corey and Morehead and -a dozen others that I know are going too.” - -“Father has joined the Union army as a surgeon and I am going as a -nurse.” - -They had reached the arbor and stood facing each other, she with her -armful of lilacs still held against her white dress, both too much -absorbed to be quite conscious of their actions. A sober smile curved -by ever so little the grim line of his lips. - -“Then you will be fighting for your side as well as I for mine, though -in a different way. But across the battlefields, Rhoda, I shall hear -your heart calling mine, and I shall know too that it is telling me to -fight right on.” - -“Yes,” she broke out earnestly, “I know that you are fighting for your -convictions and your ideals and you will not be worthy of my love if -you don’t fight until you either win or are conquered. I don’t want you -to compromise, or to yield, until you have fought to the last drop of -your strength.” - -“It’s going to be a bitter struggle and a long one, whatever the most -of them, on both sides, think now. In the South there isn’t much belief -that the North will fight, or can fight. But I know better, Rhoda. You -have taught me better, you and your father. You have made me understand -what determination there is at the bottom of all this.” - -“It’s a war between two ideals,” she said, “whatever else they may say -it is. But it’s really that, between two ideals of civilization.” - -“And men,” he added quickly, “always fight for their ideals as they do -for nothing else. It will be to the last gasp.” - -She looked away and shuddered. “Oh, it is all so horrible, even to -think of! But it is a long and horrible iniquity that has caused it -and must now be paid for. Rachel Benedict told me once that we must -ourselves pay with sweat and stripes for the evil that we do. I believe -it’s true, and the North and the South must pay together for all this -long evil of slavery, for they are both responsible. But this war will -end it.” - -He smiled upon her indulgently. “Can you think so, Rhoda, you, who -understand how we feel and how determined we are?” - -She stepped back and proudly lifted her head. Into her face came the -look of exaltation he had seen there, in this same arbor, long before. -It seemed to remove her far from him, and therefore set his heart to -throbbing all the more with longing for her. - -“Yes,” she said, “this war will end it, because God is on our -side. And afterward--oh, Jeff!”--her face melted to tenderness -again--“beyond--after the end, after God has spoken and slavery has -been ended, then there will be peace, and for us--” her voice dropped -low--“happiness!” - -“God be the judge between us, Rhoda Ware,” he exclaimed, “as to which -is right! Will you accept His judgment, as He speaks it in battle, and -promise to be my wife when the war is over, whatever He has said?” - -Again her face was lifted, glowing with exaltation. “God will never -allow such an atonement for evil-doing as this war will be,” she said -solemnly, “to be crowned by that very evil itself. With faith in Him--I -promise!” - -Scarcely had the words left her tongue when she found herself swept to -his breast and his lips upon her brow, her eyes, her mouth. - -“Rhoda, my love, my love,” he whispered, “it is a long good-by that -lies before us, perhaps even as long as it has been since I first -begged for your love, here among these vines.” - -“And there are battles and dangers, oh, so many,” she whispered back, -“between now and--the end.” - -“But I have a talisman that will carry me safe through it all, to the -end--and you. See, my sweet, how long I have kept it!” From an inner -pocket he took a little package and showed her a withered rose, the -mate of the one she herself so treasured. “I have kept it there, next -to my heart, ever since the night you gave it me, for my thoughts, five -years ago!” - -She looked at it with wondering love, pressed it to her lips and -listened with a sweet smile upon them as he said, putting it back -again: “It shall lie there always, dear heart, until all my thoughts -are yours and yours are mine. And it will always tell me, as plainly as -if with your own dear lips, to fight to the uttermost!” - -Again she lifted her head proudly. “Yes, to the uttermost, Jeff! For -that way only can your eyes be opened!” - - * * * * * - -He was gone, and she sat alone in the arbor, with her lilacs pressed -to her bosom, and listened as the strains of martial music came to her -ears. It was a band playing, downtown, where volunteers were being -drilled. She could hear the tramp of feet, the rattle of musketry, and -the words of command. - -Louder and louder the sound seemed to grow in her ears until it became -the booming of unnumbered cannon and the tramp, tramp, tramp of a -million men. The smoke of battle dimmed her eyes and all around her -she seemed to hear the cries and groans of mangled and dying men. With -white lips she whispered to herself, “With bloody sweat and stripes we -must pay--it is God’s law!” - -Slowly her features relaxed, and presently, with a tender smile curving -her lips, she buried her face in the lilac blooms. For the awful sights -and sounds had faded away and she had seen a vision of the afterward. - - -THE END - - - - -TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES: - - - Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_. - - Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. - - Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized. - - Archaic or variant spelling has been retained. - - The cover image for this eBook was created by the transcriber using - the original cover and is entered into the public domain. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RHODA OF THE UNDERGROUND *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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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 <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Rhoda of the Underground</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Florence Finch Kelly</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Illustrator: The Kinneys</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: January 10, 2023 [eBook #69435]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: D A Alexander, David E. Brown, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (The New York Public Library's Digital Collections)</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RHODA OF THE UNDERGROUND ***</div> - -<div class="figcenter hide"><img src="images/coversmall.jpg" width="450" alt=""></div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_i">[i]</span> -<h1>RHODA OF THE UNDERGROUND</h1> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_ii">[ii]</span> -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_frontispiece.jpg" alt=""></div> -<p class="caption">“He listened with her hand clasped in his.”</p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="titlepage"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_iii">[iii]</span> -<p><span class="xxlarge">RHODA OF THE<br> -UNDERGROUND</span></p> - -<p>By<br> -<span class="large">FLORENCE FINCH KELLY</span><br> - -Author of “With Hoops of Steel,” “The Delafield<br> -Affair,” etc., etc.</p> - -<p>WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY<br> -THE KINNEYS</p> - -<p><span class="large"><span class="antiqua">New York</span><br> -STURGIS & WALTON<br> -COMPANY<br> -1909</span></p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_iv">[iv]</span> -<p class="center">Copyright 1909<br> -By STURGIS & WALTON COMPANY<br> -<br> -Set up and electrotyped. Published November, 1909<br> -<br> -<span class="allsmcap">THE</span> MASON-HENRY <span class="allsmcap">PRESS</span><br> -SYRACUSE AND NEW YORK</p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_v">[v]</span> -<h2 class="nobreak">ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> -</div> - -<table> - -<tr><td>“He listened, with her hand clasped in his.”</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_ii"> Frontispiece</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr" colspan="2"><small>FACING PAGE</small></td></tr> - -<tr><td>“‘You won’t shoot him?’ she demanded, turning sharply around”</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_68"> 68</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>“Inside were a withered rose and a letter”</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_100"> 100</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>“‘Don’t Jeff, please don’t!’ she pleaded”</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_250"> 250</a></td></tr> -</table> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_1">[1]</span> -<p class="ph2">RHODA OF THE UNDERGROUND</p> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_2">[2]</span></p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_3">[3]</span> -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER I</h2> -</div> - -<p>The benediction of God was in the sunshine -that lay still and bright upon green fields and -blooming gardens. The town, marshaled along -the river side, nestled quietly under the caressing -warmth. Down by the steamboat landing it -stirred into sudden noisy activity as the up-river -boat drew in and made ready to discharge cargo -and passengers. But farther back, where the -streets, lined with maple and butternut trees and -white-blossomed locusts, climbed the long sloping -hill, the May sunshine seemed to have kissed the -earth into radiant peace. Here and there, from -some white-painted cottage set in a grassy, tree-shaded -yard, came the sound of a woman’s voice -in speech or song, or the shrilly sweet accents of -children at play floated out from porch or shady -nook.</p> - -<p>The lilac bushes in a yard at the top of the hill, -hedging the walk from front door to gate, lazily -stirred their lavender foam and sent forth waves -of fragrance. The house, uncompromisingly -white and square and solid-looking, with green -shutters at the windows, had a wide, columned -veranda across the southward front and down the -eastern side. Upon the balmy stillness in which<span class="pagenum" id="Page_4">[4]</span> -it too was enveloped there came a sound of dancing -steps and girlish laughter, and a young woman -ran out of the front door, teasing with a leafy -switch a gray kitten that scampered at her side. -Her spreading skirts, crinolined and beruffled, -tilted back and forth, and with a sudden twist she -caught the kitten within their cage. As it peeked -out, with a half-frightened face, ready to spring -away, she caught it by the back of the neck and -lifted it to the bend of her arm.</p> - -<p>“No, you didn’t, Prince of Walesy!” she -laughed. “You’re not smart enough yet to get -away from me like that!” Leaning against the -veranda rail she gazed watchfully down the street -while she pinched the kitten’s ears until it squeaked -and then stroked it into purring content. The -sunlight brought out reddish and golden gleams -in her dark brown hair.</p> - -<p>“Walesy, why don’t they come!” she exclaimed -with an impatient frown, pulling the cat’s tail -while it protested with growl and claw. “I heard -the steamboat a long time ago.” Her eyes -sought the glimpses of sparkling river between -the trees and she descried a thin banner of smoke -moving up-stream. “Yes, there it goes! They’ll -surely be here soon! Now don’t make such a fuss -about having your tail pulled. You’ll just have -to get used to it!”</p> - -<p>She began to whistle softly, stopped, cast a -backward glance at the open door, made a little<span class="pagenum" id="Page_5">[5]</span> -grimace and struck again into her tune, louder -than before. Up the street, under the drooping -white masses of locust bloom, came a two-seated -carriage. “Mother! They’re coming! They’re -right here!” she called. Then with the kitten -still in her arm she scurried down the path between -the walls of fragrant lilac, her crinolined -skirt giving glimpses of trimly slippered feet as -it tilted from side to side. Unlatching the gate -she stepped upon its lower cross-piece and swung -back upon it as far as it would go. “Father! -Rhoda!” she called out joyously, and was herself -welcomed with “Well, Charlotte!” and a kiss by -her father and a laughing embrace by her sister. -One of the tall, square gate-posts bore the sign, -“Dr. Amos M. Ware.”</p> - -<p>“Now let’s take in the things!” cried Charlotte. -“I’m just dying to see what you’ve brought! -Here, Jim,” to the negro who was holding the -horses, “come and carry in these bundles.”</p> - -<p>Within the house there was eager cross-fire of -question and answer, punctuated by frequent exclamations -of delight, as the two sisters and their -mother unwrapped the parcels and examined -their contents.</p> - -<p>“This is for mother,” said Rhoda, shaking out -a light wool wrap. “They’re wearing these little -shawls so much this spring. Charlotte, doesn’t -she look nice in it!” Throwing her arms around -her mother’s shoulders Rhoda kissed her twice<span class="pagenum" id="Page_6">[6]</span> -and then rushed back to the table piled with packages. -“And I’ve got the sweetest bonnet for -you, Charlotte!” she went on, opening a bandbox. -“There! isn’t that lovely, mother?” She tied the -strings under Charlotte’s chin and all three clustered -about the mirror as the girl critically surveyed -herself therein.</p> - -<p>The bonnet covered her head, in the fashion of -the days “before the war,” and the wreath of -flowers inside its front made a dainty frame that -seemed to be trying to compel into demureness -the saucy face with its tip-tilted nose and mischievous -brown eyes.</p> - -<p>The two sisters, reflected side by side in the -mirror, looked oddly unlike. Charlotte’s deep -tones of hair and eyes and rich coloring paled in -her elder sister into light brown and gray, and -faint rose-bloom upon her cheek. But Rhoda’s -straight, thin-nostriled nose gave to her countenance -a certain dignity which the other’s lacked, -while her mouth, with its curved upper lip, just -short enough to part easily from its full red fellow, -had a piquant sweetness more attractive than -her sister’s more regular features. Her eyes, -large and gray, and indeed all the upper part of -her face, had a serious expression. At the corners -of her mouth there was just the suggestion of an -upward turn, like that in the Mona Lisa. It gave -to the lower part of her face an expression curiously -contradictory of the grave upper part, as if<span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[7]</span> -sense of the joyousness of life were always hovering -there and ready at any moment to break forth -in laughter. When she did smile there was a -sudden irradiation of her whole countenance. The -short upper lip lifted above white teeth, the faint -upward curve at the corners of her mouth deepened -and her eyes twinkled gaily. But no one -ever accounted Rhoda so handsome as her younger -sister. Even those who admired her most thought -her forehead too high and her cheek bones too -prominent for beauty.</p> - -<p>“And this muslin is for a dress for you, Charlotte,” -Rhoda went on, holding it up for their -inspection. “Isn’t this vine a lovely pattern, -mother? We must make it with three wide -flounces, from the foot to the waist, and the skirt -even wider than these we’re wearing now. And -this white silk is to make a drawn bonnet for you, -mother. I saw several of them in Cincinnati—they’re -quite the latest thing. I have the pattern -and directions and I’m sure I can do it.”</p> - -<p>There were only three of them, but as they -moved about in their big, balloon-like skirts, -examining, comparing, discussing the purchases, -they seemed to pervade the whole large room with -the essence of femininity and to fill it with their -bodily presence.</p> - -<p>“What’s this?” said Charlotte, taking up a -small package. “It feels like a book.” And she -began to undo its wrappings.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[8]</span>Rhoda looked, then half turned away. “It is -a book—one father bought for me. You won’t -care about it.”</p> - -<p>Charlotte glanced at her curiously and with increased -interest went on with the unwrapping. -“Oh! ‘Uncle Tom’s Cabin!’” she exclaimed disdainfully -as she tossed the book away. “What -do you want to read that for? Walesy, stop it!” -And with a backward jump and a downward -swoop she extricated the kitten from beneath her -hoopskirt, boxed its ears and then cuddled it in -her arm, whence in a moment more issued sounds -of distress and anger.</p> - -<p>Her mother spoke reprovingly, in soft tones -that betrayed southern birth: “Charlotte, don’t -hurt the little thing! Do try to remember that -you’re grown up!”</p> - -<p>The girl rubbed the kitten against her face and -cooed: “Well, it was its own Charlotte’s precious -Prince of Walesy kitty-cat and if it wants to say -that ‘Uncle Tom’s Cabin’ is just a nasty old Black -Republican mess of lies it shall, so it shall! Shan’t -you, Walesy?”</p> - -<p>The kitten’s vehement response, slyly inspired, -went unheeded as she turned again to her sister, -demanding, “What do you want to read it for, -Rhoda, when you know it’s just a lot of stuff with -no truth in it?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know that, Charlotte. I’ve wanted -to read it for a long time, because it’s talked about<span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[9]</span> -so much. And while we were in Cincinnati we -went to Levi Coffin’s, and they told us so much -about Mrs. Stowe, and how she got some of the -incidents for the story and talked such a lot about—the -darkies who—try to go to Canada that it -made me very anxious to read the book.”</p> - -<p>“Who’s Levi Coffin?” asked Charlotte, regarding -her sister closely and noting a brief hesitation -as Rhoda carefully folded the white silk -before she replied: “Oh, just a friend of father’s. -They’re Quakers and they wouldn’t interest you.”</p> - -<p>Charlotte reached for the book and turned its -leaves over carelessly. “Humph! If they’re -friends of Mrs. Stowe they’re probably just some -more nigger-stealers! You’ll soon be a black -abolitionist yourself, Rhoda, if you keep on. And -then we won’t associate with her, will we, Walesy! -Didn’t you meet any nice people?”</p> - -<p>Rhoda paid no heed to her sister’s aggressive -tone. “Oh, yes! Mrs. Benjamin Harrison—Carrie -Scott, you know—she and I were such -good friends while I was at Dr. Scott’s Institute—happened -to be visiting in Cincinnati and she -and I had a long talk. And I saw several other -girls whom I knew at Dr. Scott’s. And—oh, -mother! You’ll be so pleased!” Her color -warmed and her face brightened as she went on. -“It was most romantic! We met Mr. Jefferson -Delavan!”</p> - -<p>“Oh, did you! Where? How did it happen?<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[10]</span> -Tell me all about it!” Mrs. Ware’s eager questions -and delighted face showed how nearly the -information touched her heart. But Charlotte -merely demanded, with puzzled interest, “Who -is he?”</p> - -<p>“Don’t you remember, Charlotte?” Rhoda -went on. “His mother was Adeline Fairfax, -mother’s dear friend when they were girls together -in Virginia. My middle name is after her, -you know, and it’s her miniature that mother has -on her dressing table.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes!” exclaimed Charlotte. “It was at -her home that we visited, wasn’t it, a long time -ago, in Kentucky?”</p> - -<p>“Yes—Fairmount, they call it. Such a beautiful -place, just beyond Lexington. Mother and -you and I visited there for a month, twelve years -ago, wasn’t it, mother, when we first came here to -Hillside. You were only six years old then, so -I suppose you don’t remember much about it. -But I remember it all very well and what a good -time we had.”</p> - -<p>“Poor, dear Adeline!” Mrs. Ware was wiping -her eyes. “She and I did enjoy that visit so -much! And we never saw each other again, for -she died the next year. If she had lived you and -her children would have seen a great deal of each -other. But do tell me about Jeff, Rhoda! Where -did you see him? And how did he know who you -were? He was such a fine boy—about twelve<span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[11]</span> -years old, wasn’t he?—when we were there. Just -two years older than you, Rhoda. Did you meet -him in Cincinnati?”</p> - -<p>“No. He was on the steamboat when we went -down and the captain—it was Captain Laidlaw, -father’s friend, you know—introduced him to us, -and then he remembered who we were and we -had great fun talking over the good times we had -at Fairmount.”</p> - -<p>“Was his sister Emily with him? She was -named for me, you know. Is either of them -married yet?”</p> - -<p>“No, she wasn’t with him, and neither one of -them is married. He told me his father’s sister -has lived with them ever since his mother died. -His father died too last year and now he manages -the plantation.”</p> - -<p>“Is he handsome?” queried Charlotte.</p> - -<p>“N—no, not exactly handsome. But very fine-looking, -and so courteous!”</p> - -<p>“Then you saw more of him after you left the -steamboat?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. He called on us in Cincinnati, and we -went out together several times and then it happened -that he finished his business there in time -to take the same steamboat back that we did.”</p> - -<p>Charlotte regarded her sister with dancing -eyes. “Is he coming up here to visit—us?” she -demanded. Rhoda reddened under her scrutiny. -She did not always find it easy to keep her composure<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[12]</span> -under Charlotte’s habit of making audacious -deductions and voicing reckless intuitions. -But she had learned long before that to betray -embarrassment was to invite more questioning. -She answered with apparent unconcern:</p> - -<p>“Father asked him to come and told him how -pleased mother would be to see him, and he said -that he expected to be up near the river before -long and he would cross over and call on us.”</p> - -<p>“Dear boy! Indeed, I shall be glad to see -him! Adeline’s son—how time does fly!”</p> - -<p>“Does he own slaves?” said Charlotte, her eyes -still on her sister’s face.</p> - -<p>“Of course!” replied Mrs. Ware. “You evidently -don’t remember the place, Charlotte. It is -a large tobacco plantation, and when we were there -Mr. Delavan had a great many slaves.”</p> - -<p>Charlotte sprang to her feet and poised the -kitten on her shoulder. “Then you won’t like -him, Rhoda—and I shall!” Whistling merrily, -she took some dancing steps toward the door.</p> - -<p>“Charlotte!” called her mother reprovingly, -“Do try to remember that you’re not a child any -more! I’ve told you so often it’s not ladylike to -whistle!”</p> - -<p>Rhoda smiled at her fondly. “Don’t you -know, sister, what happens to whistling women -and crowing hens?”</p> - -<p>“Oh fudge! That’s all nonsense. I heard a -better one the other day—</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[13]</span></p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="first">‘Girls that whistle and hens that crow</div> -<div class="verse">Catch the pleasures as they go.’</div> -</div></div> - -<p>There’s some truth in that! I’m going to show -father my new bonnet, and he doesn’t care if I do -whistle!”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Ware gazed after her as she floated down -the veranda and disappeared around the corner -of the house, tilting her skirts and whistling.</p> - -<p>“I did hope Charlotte wouldn’t be so trying -after she became a young lady!” she said in soft, -plaintive tones.</p> - -<p>“Never mind, mother. She doesn’t really mean -to be trying. She does it just the same as she -pinches the kitten’s tail, to make it meaow. If -you don’t pay any attention to her she’ll quit much -sooner.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Ware crossed the room to her daughter, -pressed an arm around her waist and kissed her -cheek. “I’m so glad you happened to meet Jeff -Delavan,” she murmured. “If he comes to see -us, and I’m sure he will—” she glanced at the -warmer color that flushed Rhoda’s face, smiled, -and went on, “What did you buy for yourself, -dear?”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[14]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER II</h2> -</div> - -<p>“Father! Can these things be true? Oh, how -terrible it is! Do such things really happen now, -in this country?”</p> - -<p>Rhoda Ware rushed into her father’s office, her -cheeks wet with recent tears, her voice vibrating -on the verge of sobs. Dr. Ware looked up from -the medical work he was reading in some surprise. -For it was unusual for her to give way, at least -in his presence, to so much agitation. His professional -eye took quick note of her excited nerves. -In the same glance he saw that she held a book -tightly grasped in her trembling hands and read -its title. But he did not betray in either words or -manner the fact that he had noticed it or the satisfaction -that it gave him.</p> - -<p>“Sit down, Rhoda, and calm yourself,” he said -quietly. “What is it you want to know about? -Something you’ve been reading?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. It’s ‘Uncle Tom’s Cabin.’ Father, -isn’t it exaggerated? Can it be true?”</p> - -<p>Appeal sounded in her tones, the longing of a -sensitive nature to be assured that what it has -suffered in imagination no human being has been -called upon to suffer in the thousandfold of reality. -He noted her hurried breathing, with the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[15]</span> -catch of a half-sob in it now and then, and as he -looked into her appealing eyes the man and the -father in him drew back from saying what he -wished to say lest he add to her hurt and the -physician counseled not to increase her excitement. -But the believer in a cause urged him to strike -while the iron was hot. And it was the believer -that won, after a mere moment of hesitation.</p> - -<p>“You heard what they said at Levi Coffin’s, -about many of the incidents of the book being -based on fact. But what you have read there is -only a drop in the bucket!”</p> - -<p>As he leaned toward her across his desk and -she, seated at the other side, bent her face toward -him, even a casual observer might have seen their -relationship. For her countenance was a copy of -his, a young, soft, feminine copy, but yet formed -clearly upon the same plan, even in the details of -feature and coloring. His eyes, large and gray -like hers, were calm and cool and judicial in expression, -even when, as now, they were alight with -earnestness. His shaven upper lip, also, was -short, but it pressed upon the lower in a firm line, -while all his countenance expressed a sort of -austerity that seemed to bespeak a mind informed -with intense moral conviction rather than hardness -or coldness of nature. But looking at the -two faces thus, one could see in hers the kindling -fires of an emotionalism which would be forever -foreign to him, an incipient power of emotional<span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[16]</span> -exaltation which would never be within his possibilities. -But if there was less of warmth in his -eyes and of spirituality in his brow, poise and cool -judgment were written there, and far-sightedness, -their inevitable offspring. Of the intellectual, -judicial type Dr. Ware’s countenance showed him -to be, and however much or little of such qualities -his daughter had inherited from him, along -with her remarkable physical resemblance, from -elsewhere had come the emotional forces which -now were trembling in the sensitive curves of her -mouth and glowing in her tear-wet eyes.</p> - -<p>“There’s nothing in that book that couldn’t be -duplicated right now in the South, every day in -the week,” Dr. Ware was saying in low, even -tones that nevertheless held such intensity of conviction -that she felt her nerves thrilling with it. -“And even then, Rhoda, it’s only a beginning! -There are such horrors perpetrated under slavery -as a young girl like you can’t begin to realize!”</p> - -<p>She shuddered, and he watched her silently as -she pressed her lips together and deliberately held -her breath for a moment in the effort to master -her emotion.</p> - -<p>“I don’t think I’ve ever quite realized anything -about it before,” she said in calmer voice, “although -I’ve always believed, ever since I’ve known -anything about it, that it is wrong. But I’ve -never felt, all through me”—and she shivered<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[17]</span> -again—“just how wrong it is, until this book has -made it seem all real and alive.”</p> - -<p>She hesitated, leaning her arms upon the desk, -and a puzzled expression crossed her face. “But, -father,” she presently went on, “why doesn’t -mother feel as you do about it? Her father -owned slaves, and until she married you she had -always lived on the plantation with slaves all -around her. And she still thinks that slavery is -right and that the negroes are happier and better -off in it than they would be if they were free. -She’s so kind and gentle, how can she feel as she -does if this book is true?”</p> - -<p>“Your mother and I, Rhoda, have never discussed -the question. Her father was a kindly -man and treated his slaves well, and so the only -conditions that she knew anything about were of -slavery at its best. She had such a happy girlhood -on her father’s plantation, where the slaves -were all eager to do anything for her, that her -memories of it are very pleasant. I’ve never -wanted to disturb them, because it wouldn’t do any -good and it might spoil the pleasure she takes in -thinking about those days; and so I’ve never -talked about it with her, although she knows, of -course, what I think.”</p> - -<p>Rhoda threw him an admiring glance, which he, -with his eyes averted in semi-embarrassment at -having revealed a glimpse of his inner self to his -offspring, did not see.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[18]</span>“Mother has told us, Charlotte and me,” Rhoda -went on thoughtfully, “so many things about her -girlhood and her father’s plantation, and she has -always been so pleased in recalling those days, that -I couldn’t help wondering sometimes if anything -could be wrong that made everybody as happy as -they seemed to have been in her home. And -Charlotte, you know, is quite convinced that slavery -is all right.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, Charlotte!” Dr. Ware exclaimed in an -amused tone. “She’s just a little fire-eater! But -she doesn’t mean half she says.”</p> - -<p>“Sometimes she doesn’t, but she seems to be -getting quite in earnest about it lately.”</p> - -<p>“Like all the rest of us, on both sides,” her -father appended.</p> - -<p>“Mother says her father never sold a negro,” -Rhoda went on, “and that his slaves were always -contented and happy and that the same things were -true on the other plantations where she visited.”</p> - -<p>Dr. Ware’s face darkened. “He didn’t, while -he lived. But he left his affairs in such a tangle -when he died that most of his slaves were sold to -satisfy his debts. Your mother was ill then—it -was about the time you were born—and I did not -tell her, and as we were living in the North nobody -else did, anything about that part of it. To -this day she doesn’t know”—he was clipping off -his words in a tone of impersonal resentment—“that -her old mammy, of whom she was so fond,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[19]</span> -was sold to a trader who was buying for a cotton -plantation in the South. When I found out about -it I tried to have her traced, so as to buy her myself, -bring her North and free her. But I finally -found that she was dead and that her fate, though -different, had been no better than Uncle Tom’s.”</p> - -<p>The girl drew back with an exclamation of -horror, and her eyes filled. “Oh, father! That -good, kind creature, who loved mother so much!”</p> - -<p>“Don’t ever tell your mother,” he cautioned. -“It would do no good and it would make her -unhappy. You see, Rhoda, how impossible it is -for one man, no matter how good his intentions -may be, to keep back the evil that is inherent in -slavery. He can’t make his own affairs better -than the system very long.”</p> - -<p>Rhoda was looking out through the open door, -her brow puckered in a thoughtful frown, the -pain in her heart evidenced by the droop and the -quiver of her sensitive lips. Dr. Ware’s office -was on the eastern side of the house and faced a -gate, opening from the cross street, through which -a young man was now striding hastily.</p> - -<p>“There’s Horace Hardaker!” she exclaimed. -“How excited he looks! Oh, do you suppose he’s -had bad news from Julia?”</p> - -<p>They sprang to their feet and rushed out upon -the veranda. “Very likely,” her father answered. -“The border ruffians are overrunning eastern Kansas. -What is it, Horace? What has happened?”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[20]</span> -he went on, grasping the young man’s -hand as he mounted the steps. They pressed close -to him, expectant, their faces anxious.</p> - -<p>“Julia—have you had bad news?” Rhoda threw -in breathlessly.</p> - -<p>Hardaker’s face was working with suppressed -excitement and it was a moment before he could -speak.</p> - -<p>“You haven’t heard?” he broke out. “Oh, it’s -frightful! Senator Sumner was attacked yesterday -in the senate chamber and beaten almost to -death!”</p> - -<p>“My God, Horace! Who did it?” cried Dr. -Ware, gripping the other’s hand, his face paling.</p> - -<p>“Preston Brooks—”</p> - -<p>“Of South Carolina—yes, go on!”</p> - -<p>“Senator Butler’s nephew—that speech of Sumner’s -the other day—”</p> - -<p>“Yes, yes! The crimes of the South! Brooks -has killed him?”</p> - -<p>“No, but he may not live. Brooks came upon -him from behind, as he sat at his desk, and while -he was penned there pounded him over the head -with a heavy cane.”</p> - -<p>“Will the North stand this insult?” Dr. Ware -exclaimed, dropping the other’s hand, which unconsciously -he had been gripping and shaking -during their colloquy. With quick steps and -short turns he marched this way and that as they -went on talking, running his fingers through his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[21]</span> -hair until it stood upright. Rhoda shared in their -excitement, her nerves still tingling from her recent -emotion, mind and heart alike ready to be -deeply impressed by the news. With brief, sharp -sentences they broke across one another’s speech, -turning pale faces and glittering eyes from one -to another.</p> - -<p>“Brooks’s companions held back those who -tried to go to Sumner’s help!”</p> - -<p>“Oh, what a brutal and cowardly—”</p> - -<p>“If the North is not utterly craven—”</p> - -<p>“It’s the most atrocious thing they’ve dared -yet!”</p> - -<p>“Beecher’s bibles are the thing to answer it -with!”</p> - -<p>“The sooner the better!”</p> - -<p>“If there’s any manhood at all in the North!”</p> - -<p>After a little they grew calmer and went into -the office, where Hardaker related the details of -the event which was about to set both sections -of the country in an uproar. Presently Rhoda -asked what news he had had from his sister Julia, -lately married—Rhoda had been her bridesmaid—and -gone with her husband to Kansas. North -and South were in the midst of their bitter struggle -for the embryonic state, and from each settlers -were pouring into it, there to translate their convictions -into guerrilla warfare, while their friends -at home waited fearfully each day as news came<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[22]</span> -of battle, murder, the burning of houses, the -sacking of towns.</p> - -<p>“We’ve heard nothing worse, so far, than -you’ve seen in the papers already. But it won’t -be long. They’re cooking up some dastardly outrage -and any day we may hear that Lawrence has -been burned and all the people killed. Mother -never opens the ‘Tribune’ herself now. She waits -for me to look in it first and then tell her what the -Kansas letters say.”</p> - -<p>Hardaker was asked to stay to dinner, and -Rhoda went to tell her mother of the guest. Then -the two men drew their chairs close together and -spoke in low tones.</p> - -<p>“I saw Conners this morning,” said Horace, -“and he told me that they’re watching his place so -close now that it isn’t safe to have them come -there any more. And he’s made up his mind to -go out to Kansas anyway, and expects to leave in -a month or two. So we’ve got to have a new station.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” mused Dr. Ware, “there must be some -place not too far from the river where they can -hide as soon as possible after they cross. I wonder -if I could manage it here. If I could, this would -be just the place. The house sets up so high that -they could steer their course for it from the other -side, and, once across, they could easily make their -way up here after dark.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[23]</span>“But could you take care of them safely?” the -other asked with evident surprise.</p> - -<p>“I couldn’t heretofore, but it may be different -now!” and he leaned forward with a smile of -satisfaction. “You saw how moved Rhoda was -just now. She’s been reading ‘Uncle Tom’s -Cabin’ and it’s had a profound effect upon her, -just as I hoped it would. She went down to -Cincinnati with me last week and I took her to -Levi Coffin’s. She was very much interested in -the talk there—you know about what it was. -After she’s had time to think about it—Rhoda -doesn’t do things on impulse, you know—I believe, -Horace, my girl will be ready to help me -out!”</p> - -<p>“But what about—” Hardaker began, then -stopped, embarrassed.</p> - -<p>“I know what you mean. I wouldn’t, of course, -ask Mrs. Ware to concern herself actively in the -matter, or to know any more about it than she -wanted to. But we could depend on her to keep -her own counsel. Charlotte need not know anything -about it—although she’d be pretty sure to -find out all about it before long. Then she’d tell -me frequently and forcibly, just what kind of a -pickpocket she considers me—” He stopped a -moment, smiling indulgently, but went on, conviction -in his tone: “But she wouldn’t tell. She’d -be loyal to me. And as for my colored man Jim -and his wife Lizzie, in the kitchen, they’ll do anything<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[24]</span> -under the sun to help the thing along. They -bought their freedom, only a few years ago. I -think, Horace, it will be all right!”</p> - -<p>Rhoda found her mother and sister in the big, -cool sitting-room, Mrs. Ware darning stockings -and Charlotte at the piano, playing “The Battle -of Prague.” She wheeled round at Rhoda’s announcement -of the guest for dinner.</p> - -<p>“That Black Abolitionist!” she exclaimed -scornfully, her eyes flashing. “I shall not sit at -the table with him!”</p> - -<p>“Charlotte!” her mother chided. “Your -father’s guest! Be ashamed!”</p> - -<p>“Why don’t you decline to sit at the table with -father?” Rhoda asked quietly, but with an unaccustomed -tone in her voice that made the other -look at her sharply. Her face and manner still -betrayed signs of her recent agitation. Charlotte -saw them and wondered if anything had been -happening between her and Horace Hardaker. -She did not know that he had more than once -plead his suit with Rhoda and had been denied.</p> - -<p>“Where is he now?” she asked.</p> - -<p>“In the office, with father.”</p> - -<p>Had he then been making love to Rhoda and -was he now getting the matter settled with their -father? Then it would be impossible not to be -present at the dinner table. But for the present -she would stick to her guns. She rose and moved<span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[25]</span> -toward the door, giving her hoopskirts an angry -swish.</p> - -<p>“No!” she paused to say, with emphasis, “you -cannot expect me, thinking as I do about Horace -Hardaker, to sit at the same table with him. I -shall ask Lizzie to save my dinner for me and eat -it after he goes away.”</p> - -<p>But when they met in the dining-room Charlotte -was already there, arranging flowers on the table, -a rose in her hair and another at her throat and -Hardaker’s place set beside her own. At first his -manner toward her was courteous, though formal, -but as the meal progressed and she smiled upon -him, rallied him, and talked to him and at him -with audacious little speeches, his reserve melted -and his attention was gradually centered upon her. -Every now and then she stole a glance at Rhoda, -secretly wondering and discomfited that her sister -did not seem more disturbed or make some effort -to prevent her from monopolizing Hardaker’s -attention. She reassured herself with thinking, -“But she never does show things out much.”</p> - -<p>After dinner Dr. and Mrs. Ware left the three -young people together upon the veranda. Horace -asked Rhoda about her visit to Levi Coffin’s in -Cincinnati, but Charlotte cut in with some saucy -remarks that set them to laughing and when presently -she strolled off across the lawn to a grape -arbor at the other side of the yard, he was in close -attendance. Rhoda brought her sewing from the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[26]</span> -house and began hemming the flounces for Charlotte’s -gown.</p> - -<p>There was a suggestion of triumph in Charlotte’s -expression and manner when they came -back and all three stood under the butternut tree -beside the east gate, where Dr. Ware’s carriage -was waiting for him to dismiss a patient. Had -she not taken young Hardaker away from her -sister at once and herself appropriated all his attention? -But when she could not help seeing that -the ordinary friendliness between the two was -neither disturbed nor accentuated, she began to -think that perhaps her previous surmise had been -mistaken. And when Horace bade them a casual -good-by, in which her keen eyes could discover no -trace of any unusual sentiment, and drove away -with their father, she decided that after all it had -not been worth while. “But anyway it was more -fun than eating dinner alone,” she thought. “And -when Mr. Jefferson Delavan comes—”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[27]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER III</h2> -</div> - -<p>We blundering humans are much given to looking -back over our lives and saying, “There we -made a mistake. If it were to do over again we -would do thus and so, and then things would turn -out much better and happier.”</p> - -<p>But if we could go back and live our lives over -again, at how many of the turning points would -we have the courage, or the desire, to take the -other direction? How often would we care to -risk any different combination of events than that -which we had formerly dared? For experience -has taught us, at least, how endless and how -momentous is the line of events, not only for ourselves -but also for a growing multitude of others, -that we set in motion with each choice of the forking -road. Moved by our own desires and the -compelling force of outward circumstances we -travel over the course the first time, choosing our -route with little thought for the intricate coils of -consequence that hang upon our steps. But if -we were to journey over it again would not our -feet drag at the turnings and waver back to the -path we already knew, rather than venture blindly -upon some new chain of events, leading none could -tell whither and ending only with the end of time?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[28]</span>Thus did it happen that Dr. Amos M. Ware -in after years sometimes debated with himself as -to whether he made a mistake in not speaking -sooner to his daughter Rhoda about the work, of -deep concern to him, in which he hoped to enlist -her sympathy and help. Often did he ask himself -if perhaps it would not have been better for her -had he laid his plan before her at once, on the -very day of Hardaker’s visit, when her mind and -heart were so deeply impressed that there would -have been little doubt of her acquiescence. But -he wanted to talk with her more, to give her more -things to read, and so to lead her deeper into the -heart of the fires with which North and South -were burning. And in the meantime came -Jefferson Delavan.</p> - -<p>Afterwards he was wont to say to himself that -if he had spoken, and everything had been arranged -and the work started before that event -happened, the young man’s coming would have -made little difference to Rhoda, that then he would -simply have gone away again and that would have -been the end of it. But he was wont also to -reassure himself with the thought that perhaps -Delavan would have come again anyway, and that, -even if he had not returned, perhaps it would have -been no better for Rhoda. But the “ifs” and -“perhapses” so tangled up his reflections that he -always ended by thinking he would not quite like<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[29]</span> -to risk acting differently if it were to do over -again.</p> - -<p>Of course, there would have been a story anyway, -no matter what Dr. Ware might have done -at that particular juncture, nor what the consequences -of his action might have been. It would -not have been the story I am about to relate, and -perhaps Jefferson Delavan would not have been -in it. But given Rhoda Ware and given her -environment, it would have been bound to be a -story somewhat out of the ordinary. As to that, -however, in every human life there is a story that -needs only adequate telling to make it seem more -interesting than life does to the most of us.</p> - -<p>Rhoda Ware’s father did not know what she -thought, nor, indeed, whether or not she had any -conviction, upon the right or wrong of the system -of helping and hasting fugitive slaves through the -northern states to Canada and freedom which in -that day was known, and has passed into history, -as the Underground Railroad. He did feel sure, -and his pride in her increased with the thought, -that if she were not convinced of its righteousness, -although it was in defiance of the law, she would -not engage in it. But he also felt sure that if she -saw the matter as did he and his co-workers, as -a question of the right of the individual conscience -above the general law, she would come to his -assistance with courage and enthusiasm. And -therefore before broaching the subject he wished<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[30]</span> -to make sure of her convictions upon all the points -that led up to this practical climax.</p> - -<p>Like thousands upon thousands of others, her -first keen feeling upon the subject of slavery was -aroused by the reading of Mrs. Stowe’s fateful -book. She was only one of the unnumbered host -for whom its emotional appeal was the first incentive -to active opposition. The influence of -“Uncle Tom’s Cabin” upon the course of events -preceding the Civil War is proof of how much -more ready we Americans are to be moved by our -emotions than by argument, of how much more -willing we are to think with our hearts than with -our heads.</p> - -<p>Dr. Ware put into her hands Senator Sumner’s -speech on “The Crime against Kansas,” the cause -of the assault upon him, which was being read all -through the north by the hundred thousand copies, -and he brought her reports of the huge meetings -of indignation held in Boston, New York, and -other cities, and presided over and addressed by -men of national fame. From Kansas the news -of the sacking of Lawrence added fuel to the flame -of anger that was sweeping over the North, and -to the feeling of horror and reprobation in which -Rhoda joined there was added in her mind the note -of personal resentment. For a letter from her -friend Julia Hammerton, Horace Hardaker’s sister, -gave an intimate account of the attack and -told of the indignities and loss herself and her<span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[31]</span> -husband had suffered at the hands of the border -ruffians.</p> - -<p>Rhoda was deeply moved by these events and -day by day became more keenly interested, while -her father, watching her closely, decided that soon -he would speak to her upon the project he had so -much at heart. He purposed to lay before her -the whole question, tell her of the part which it -was his desire to take in the work of the Underground -Railroad, and ask for her coöperation.</p> - -<p>Underneath the apparent peace in which the -Ohio river town of Hillside basked in the sweet -May sunshine of that day when Rhoda and her -father drove up the hill on their return from Cincinnati, -feeling on the slavery question ran deep -and bitter. And the events which had happened -since that day had intensified the heat and the bitterness -until, just as all over the country, men felt -that they were dwelling over a volcano which -might break out at any moment, none could tell -with what violence and destruction. The pro-slavery -element of the town, quick to seize every -opportunity of expressing its friendliness for the -South, held a meeting at which resolutions were -passed lauding Representative Brooks for his -chivalry in coming to the defense of his kinsman -and his state, and declaring that he deserved the -admiration of all who believed in honor and manliness -for the justly deserved punishment he had -meted out to a notorious abolitionist. And then<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[32]</span> -money was donated with enthusiasm for the purchase -of a cane to be presented to him which should -bear the inscription, “Use knock-down arguments” -and the device of a broken human head.</p> - -<p>The anti-slavery element planned to hold a -meeting two nights later at which they proposed -to express their feelings in denunciation of Brooks -and in praise of Sumner and his speech, to voice -their indignation over the course of events in Kansas, -and to ask for money for the relief of the free-state -settlers and for the sending of more colonists -with whom to swell their numbers. It was Dr. -Ware’s intention to take Rhoda to this meeting, -at which he was to make the principal speech, and -immediately afterward to have with her the conversation -which he believed would secure her help.</p> - -<p>But in the afternoon of that day Jefferson Delavan -appeared at the door of his office and hoped -he might present his respects to Mrs. Ware and -Miss Rhoda.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[33]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER IV</h2> -</div> - -<p>“‘A felon’s blow,’ indeed! O, la, you horrid -thing!”</p> - -<p>Charlotte Ware, alone in the living-room, -rocked violently back and forth a few times, -apparently as an outlet for her indignation, then -turned her flushed cheeks and snapping eyes again -upon the New York “Tribune” in her hands. She -stayed her rocking for a moment, absorbed in the -article which had aroused her anger, but presently -broke out again:</p> - -<p>“‘The symbol of the South is the bludgeon!’ -Oh, you wretch!”</p> - -<p>She struck the page with her fist, but went on -reading again until she came to some sentiment -which gave a still deeper prod to her anger. Then -springing to her feet, she crushed the journal into -a ball, whipped off her slipper and began to spank -vigorously the offending news. The paper flew -from her hands and the kitten, which had tumbled -from her lap, whisked after it. She pursued and -sent it across the room with another blow, ran -after it and beat it again, exclaiming, “There! -That’s what you deserve!”</p> - -<p>“Charlotte, what are you doing?” It was her -father’s voice at the door, and without looking up<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[34]</span> -she answered, between her whacks at the tattered -paper:</p> - -<p>“It’s that old meeting in New York about -Sumner and I’m giving that horrid Beecher person’s -speech what it deserves, and I wish it was -him!”</p> - -<p>“Bravo, Miss Charlotte!” came quick response -in a strange masculine voice, followed by a hearty -laugh and two or three little handclaps.</p> - -<p>She wheeled, her slipper in her hand, and saw -a young man beside her father in the doorway, a -good-looking young man, broad-shouldered and -erect of stature. It flashed upon her that this -must be Mr. Jefferson Delavan. Under cover -of picking up the kitten she adroitly slipped on -her shoe. As she came forward, blushing and -confused, trying to cover her embarrassment with -an extra tilting of her hoopskirt and a pouting, -defiant little smile, she seemed to Delavan to be -little more than a spoiled, amusing child, so sweet -and dainty to look at that to indulge her would be -a pleasure.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Ware was delighted by Delavan’s coming, -and would listen to no other arrangement than -that he should stay with them, at least over night. -When she heard this Charlotte considered whether -or not she should deny herself the excitement of -attending the meeting that night. She had already -accepted the escort of a young admirer -whose sentiments were as vehemently pro-slavery<span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[35]</span> -as her own, and he had confided to her that something -interesting was likely to happen. Perhaps -it would be just as interesting to stay at home and -prevent Mr. Delavan from showing Rhoda too -much attention. But there would be opportunity -for that afterward, and the meeting would be only -that evening. So she decided not to send word -to her escort that she had changed her mind. -When she came downstairs ready to go, her -father, meeting her in the hall, said, with more -gravity than he was accustomed to use toward her:</p> - -<p>“I hope, Charlotte, you won’t let that young -Saunders forget who you are.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t you worry, father,” she responded assuringly. -“I won’t let him hiss you, anyway.”</p> - -<p>With much inward regret Dr. Ware gave up -his plan of taking Rhoda to the meeting with him. -She and her mother sat on the veranda with their -guest and Mrs. Ware told them anecdotes about -her own and his mother’s girlhood and of the intimacy -which had caused the young women to be -known among all their acquaintance as “the two -alter egos.” “And after awhile,” said Mrs. -Ware, in happy reminiscence, “they always called -one of us ‘alter’ and the other ‘ego,’ without making -any distinction as to which was which.”</p> - -<p>In the days of that friendship they had had -their miniatures painted, each for the other, and -Delavan had brought, from his dead mother’s -possessions, that of Mrs. Ware.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[36]</span>“I thought you might like to have it again, Mrs. -Ware, madam,” he said, in his slightly ceremonious -manner, “either for yourself, as a memento -of your girlhood, or to give to Miss Rhoda.”</p> - -<p>Rhoda bent over it with eager, tender interest. -“Oh, mother!” she exclaimed, “does this really -look as you did then? How you have changed!” -And, indeed, in her matronly figure, short and -plump, there was little suggestion of the trim and -graceful outlines of the young girl in the picture. -The brown hair had grown quite gray, the bright -color had faded from the face, and the dainty contour -of cheek, chin and throat had been despoiled -by the quarter-century which had since passed over -her head. But although the years had stolen her -beauty they had left in its place a worthy gift. -For motherliness informed her features, her look -was tender, and the grace of gentleness controlled -her manner.</p> - -<p>Delavan was at Rhoda’s elbow, looking at the -miniature with her, and now and then stealing a -glance from the portrait to the girl’s face. “You -needn’t do that, Jeff,” Mrs. Ware smiled at him, -“for you can’t find the least resemblance to me in -Rhoda’s features. She’s like her father in looks -and disposition and everything,” and her eyes -rested fondly upon her first-born.</p> - -<p>“But how much it is like Charlotte!” Rhoda -insisted, and pointed out the likeness in mouth<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[37]</span> -and chin, nose and brow, in expression and in -coloring.</p> - -<p>Moved to tender retrospection by the memories -that came crowding upon her, she told them about -her courtship and marriage. “It was at White -Sulphur Springs that I first met your father, -Rhoda,” she said, “and from the very start he -never seemed to have eyes for anybody but me. -He was from the North, you know, from Providence, -and he was taking a horseback trip through -the South for his health. He had letters to the -Colbys, good friends of ours who were there too, -and so I soon met him. Ah, what happy times -we used to have at White Sulphur!” and she went -on to tell of rides and dances and flirtations in -which they heard the names of gay young gallants, -known to them now as men of prominence -in Washington or capital cities in the South.</p> - -<p>“But father—what became of him?” reminded -Rhoda.</p> - -<p>“Oh, he was always wherever I was, as long as -he stayed at the Springs, that summer. Afterwards -he was with the Colbys, who owned the -next plantation to ours, tutoring their boys. That -was such a gay winter—something going on all -the time—dear me!” She broke off into a happy -little laugh and the spirit of that long dead time -flared up again in the instinctive coquetry with -which she tossed her head, moved in her chair and -flourished her fan. Delavan looked at her and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[38]</span> -smiled, thinking of the Amos M. Ware of those -days and wondering what would be his account of -that winter. Rhoda’s eyes noted the movement -and the expression and she thought, “That’s just -like Charlotte!”</p> - -<p>“My people did not want me to marry him,” -Mrs. Ware went on, “because he was a northerner. -But one day he came to take me to ride—two such -splendid black horses they were, and how they -could travel! Well, we went, for I always had -my own way, and such a wild ride we had! We -galloped and galloped, and I was very gay, as I -always was, but your father, Rhoda, looked so -serious and strange that I was a little frightened -inside of me, though I wouldn’t have let him know -it for the world. I suppose that made me—a -little—worse than usual, and he didn’t say anything, -but just made the horses go faster and -faster, and after a while he rode close beside me -and seized my arm and said— O, never mind what -he said!”—her voice trembled and almost broke -and it was a moment before she went on. “Well, -the end of it was that we ran away and were married. -Of course my people were very angry about -it, but they forgave me, as I knew they would, -though they never did quite forgive him. He -took me away at once to New York, where he -wanted to study medicine, and I never lived in the -South again.”</p> - -<p>Rhoda listened with a little tremor in her nerves<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[39]</span> -and her heart beating faster. Vividly the vision -came before her—the pretty, gay young woman -with her wilful coquetries and the masterful young -man urging their horses faster and faster—and -they were her father and mother! How strange -it seemed to think of them under the stress of such -a wild, compelling love. That, then, was what -love was like—for its sake her mother had dared -the anger of her people, and had given up them -and their love and her home and all her early -associations which had meant to her such great -happiness. The moon was swimming upward -through a sea-like expanse of dim blue sky and -casting its spell of beauty over the flower-decked -yard, the solemn tree shapes guarding the street -and the glimpses of river beyond. Fireflies were -weaving patterns of light down among the shrubbery -and behind it the white palings of the fence -gleamed, unreal as the walls of a dream palace. -Up from the rose-laden bushes, on the softly stirring -air, came waves of fragrance.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Ware was going on with a story about -Delavan’s mother and herself and Rhoda heard -her mention her “old mammy”! Instantly the -girl’s thought flashed to what her father had told -her a little while before, and the tears came to her -eyes at the realizing sense of how his love had -shielded for his wife her memories and her pleasure -in them. This, then, was what love was like—but -suddenly imagination drove thought away<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[40]</span> -and again she saw the vision of those two young -lovers galloping faster and faster, while love plied -whip and spur. Then without warning her mind -played a trick upon her and there flashed across -it a memory of her own—of children playing -pirates, herself and the other girls princesses in -short dresses and pantalettes, and the man now -sitting beside her, a long-legged boy, bearing down -upon their palace, singling her out and bearing -her away to his treasure cave.</p> - -<p>They strolled down into the yard, but Mrs. -Ware did not like the dew on the grass and went -back to the veranda. Rhoda and Delavan idled -on through the moonlight.</p> - -<p>“Do you know what I’ve just been thinking -of?” he questioned.</p> - -<p>“No. How could I? But—” she plucked a -red rose and held it toward him, her upper lip -lifting in a smile that sent a brightness over her -face, “a flower for your thoughts!”</p> - -<p>He took it, pressed it to his lips and fastened -it in his buttonhole. They were passing a great -bed of white petunias, gleaming like ghost flowers -in the moonlight and sending forth sweet odors -that filled the air all round about.</p> - -<p>“I was thinking,” he began, and to Rhoda the -sweetness of their fragrance seemed suddenly to -be translated into his tones and to be coursing -through her own veins. Never again was she to -be able to sense the odor of petunias without darting<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[41]</span> -memory of how he pressed her rose to his lips -and said, “I was thinking of that evening when -we played pirates. Do you remember?”</p> - -<p>They had come to the entrance of the grape -arbor, at the western side of the yard. It was -dark with the heavy foliage of the vines, and -Rhoda hesitated an instant as she glanced at the -shadows within, checkered here and there with -gleams of light, and gave a faint exclamation at -his words. A dim prescience, barely realized, -crossed her consciousness, as of something, some -destiny, waiting for her within those shadows. A -broad band of moonlight, shining through the -entrance, lay across the seat.</p> - -<p>“You startled me, a little,” she said, sitting -down in the white glow, “because—it’s very curious—I -thought of that evening myself, just now!”</p> - -<p>“You did? What a coincidence! Then you -must remember how hard I had to work to beat -Lloyd Corey, the other pirate, to your palace, and -how I chose you out of all the princesses and carried -you off? Do you remember? Lloyd and -I had a duel about you, with cornstalks, that evening, -after you girls went in, and I won, and after -that he had to let me pick you out every time—do -you remember—Rhoda—that I did always choose -you? The very first day that you came, Harry -Morehead and Lloyd and I talked over you and -all the other girls that were there, comparing you -and saying which we thought we would like best,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[42]</span> -and I told them that I liked Rhoda Ware the -best of them all and that I was going to marry her -some day. That was just boy’s talk, of course, -but—Rhoda—Rhoda Ware—we are man and -woman now, and I love you, and I—still mean to -marry you, if you will have me—will you?”</p> - -<p>He had been standing before her, bending low, -speaking in quick, soft tones, in which she felt a -passionate masterfulness that set her own pulses -throbbing. Somewhere in the back of her mind -she had a dim memory of her father seizing her -mother by the arm and galloping—galloping— Unconsciously -she moved to one side and nervously -swept her wide skirts from the bench. He sat -down beside her, and as the moonlight fell full -upon her figure he saw that her bosom was heaving -and her hands trembling.</p> - -<p>“Have you—not been—too hasty?” she asked, -in a troubled voice. “We know so little of each -other!”</p> - -<p>“I know I love you and want you for my wife. -I knew that when we were together on the boat, -and in Cincinnati, and I know it now more surely -even than I did then. But if you are not so sure -of yourself, if you want to know more about me, I -will wait for your answer. But you won’t deny -me at once—you won’t send me away for good, -now, will you, Rhoda?”</p> - -<p>He bent toward her, his masterfulness all gone, -face and voice full of pleading. She gave him<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[43]</span> -one swift, smiling glance, bright in the moonlight, -and whispered, “No, not now—let us wait a little.”</p> - -<p>He seized her hand. It was cold and trembling. -She let him hold it for a moment in both -of his. “Rhoda, Rhoda, you love me a little!” -he exclaimed, as he felt it fluttering within his -palms.</p> - -<p>“Perhaps, a little—I don’t know,” she hesitated. -From down the hill came the sound of voices. -“They are coming home,” she went on in steadier -tones. “Let us go back to the house.”</p> - -<p>The fact had not yet presented itself to Rhoda -Ware’s remembrance that Jefferson Delavan was -a slaveholder. She knew that he owned a plantation -which he worked with slave labor, but her -thoughts had been filled by his personality alone, -without reference to his surroundings or conditions. -And during the evening his presence and -her mother’s reminiscences had swept all her -thoughts and emotions away from the immediate -present and the outer world. For the time being -it was quite outside her consciousness that he had -any connection with the institution of slavery.</p> - -<p>As for Delavan, he did not know anything -about Dr. Ware’s sentiments on that burning -question. The subject had not been mentioned -during their conversations on the boat and since -his arrival in the afternoon he had seen but little -of his host. Mrs. Ware, with her delight at his -coming and her talk about his mother and their<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[44]</span> -girlhood days, and Rhoda’s presence, had engrossed -his attention. Moreover, Charlotte’s -performance, upon which he and Dr. Ware had -unexpectedly come, had been misleading to whatever -thought he had given to the matter. And -that young lady was about to make deeper the -impression.</p> - -<p>Seated on the veranda steps she lamented her -mistake in going to the meeting. “There was no -fun at all,” she declared. “It was as orderly and -quiet as a funeral. I wish it had been old Sumner’s -funeral! And how they did talk about -‘Bully Brooks’!” She caught up the kitten, -which at the sound of her voice had come purring -against her skirts, and exclaimed:</p> - -<p>“Prince of Walesy, you’ve got to have your -name changed! You’re going to be ‘Bully -Brooks’ after this! Because he’s the best man -out!”</p> - -<p>“Good for you, Miss Charlotte! You’re a girl -after my own heart!” Delavan heartily approved. -They were alone on the veranda, Dr. Ware having -hurried to his office, where a patient was waiting. -At that moment Mrs. Ware and Rhoda -returned, with cool drinks, and the talk turned to -other subjects. But Delavan had gained a distinct -impression that Dr. Ware’s family was pro-slavery -in sentiment.</p> - -<p>Later in the evening, when Rhoda went into her -sister’s bedroom to say good-night, she found<span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[45]</span> -Charlotte sitting before a mirror with their mother’s -miniature, carefully comparing it with her -own reflection. “Come here, Rhoda,” she said, -“and see how much this looks like me!”</p> - -<p>Rhoda bent over her shoulder. The girl had -arranged her hair like that in the picture, and the -resemblance was striking. “I know,” said Rhoda. -“I noticed it at once, but your hair this way makes -it plainer. You must look very much like mother -did when she was your age—when they were married.”</p> - -<p>Charlotte cast a glance back into the other’s -face. “Yes,” she said, “I must be the image of -her. That’s why father loves me so much more -than he does you.”</p> - -<p>Rhoda turned sharply away. “Sister! He -doesn’t! We are both his daughters, and he loves -us both.”</p> - -<p>“Of course he does,” Charlotte replied calmly. -“But he loves me a great deal more than he does -you.”</p> - -<p>And in her secret heart Rhoda knew that her -sister spoke the truth.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[46]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER V</h2> -</div> - -<p>Never had Dr. Ware been more surprised than -he was when Jefferson Delavan came to him the -next morning and said, without preliminary:</p> - -<p>“I wish to tell you, Dr. Ware, sir, that I love -your daughter, Miss Rhoda, and desire to make -her my wife.”</p> - -<p>For a moment he gazed in speechless astonishment. -“It seems to me, Mr. Delavan,” he presently -found tongue to say, “that you are being -rather precipitate. Have you spoken to Rhoda?”</p> - -<p>“I have, sir. She asks for time to make sure -of herself. But she does not leave me without -hope. You must remember, sir, that we knew -each other when we were children.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes, for a few weeks, I believe! And -you’ve been in each other’s company a few hours -since! Do you think that is long enough for you -to acquire such knowledge of each other as you -ought to have before venturing upon this important -step?”</p> - -<p>“It has been long enough, sir, for me to discover -that she has a sweet and noble nature and to -know that I love her. And I do not ask from her -at present any definite promise. I ask only for -your permission to endeavor to win her love and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[47]</span> -her promise as soon as possible. You know who -I am and I am sure you will acquit me of presumption, -sir, if I remind you that my name is -an honored one in my state and neighborhood. I -trust you will have any inquiries made that you -like concerning my personal character, and I shall -be happy to give you at any time an account of my -financial affairs, in order that you may satisfy -yourself I can give your daughter a home and -a position such as she deserves.”</p> - -<p>“Your attitude is that of an honorable man, -Mr. Delavan, and if the matter goes on I shall -take advantage of your offer.”</p> - -<p>Dr. Ware arose and began moving back and -forth across the room. “But you are a slaveholder, -I believe. Do you think it wise for two -people to marry who hold such opposing opinions -about a question that both think of importance?”</p> - -<p>It was the young man’s turn to be surprised. -He rose and looked at the other in astonishment. -“What do you mean, Dr. Ware? I thought—Miss -Charlotte—?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I understand. Charlotte likes to talk and -she says a great deal more than she means. But -Rhoda and I are in sympathy on the question of -slavery, and I am what you southern people call -a fanatic and a black abolitionist. If I had supposed -that our meeting on the boat would lead to -anything more than mere passing acquaintance I -would have spoken of my sentiments then.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[48]</span>“It seems to me, sir, that if husband and wife -love each other truly, matters of opinion are of -little consequence between them.”</p> - -<p>Dr. Ware shook his head gravely. “A matter -of opinion? My young friend, it is much more -than that, for both of you. But this is something -for you and Rhoda to settle between yourselves. -As for me, it would grieve me deeply to see Rhoda -marry you, just because you are a slaveholder, -and I must tell you right now that whatever influence -I have with my daughter shall be used -against your suit. Nevertheless,”—he held out -his hand, the young man gripped it, and they -shook hands warmly, although each saw kindling -in the other’s eyes the fires of opposition. -“Nevertheless,” Dr. Ware went on, “you have -my consent to win her if you can. Frankly, -though, I don’t believe you can do it after she -realizes that to be your wife she must be the -mistress of slaves.”</p> - -<p>While Delavan was having his interview with -her father, Rhoda, clasped in her mother’s arms, -was hearing exclamations of delight and forecasts -of happiness: “Rhoda, dear! how happy -this makes me! Yes, I know, you haven’t given -him a final answer—and that’s quite right—keep -him off for a while—don’t let him think you’re -easily won—but of course you’ll have him finally! -Oh, Rhoda, my little girl—to think that you’re -going to marry Adeline’s boy! If she knows—up<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[49]</span> -in heaven—she’s just as pleased over it as I -am! If she could only have lived to see it! And -he’s such a dear fellow! Rhoda, dear, you’ll be -so happy, I know you will—and it is such a beautiful -life down there!”</p> - -<p>She heard her younger daughter whistling in -the hall. “There’s Charlotte,” she exclaimed. -“I think I’d better send her downtown on some -errand.” And wiping tears of joy from her eyes -she hurried out to complete her plan of eliminating -Charlotte from the life of the household for the -rest of the morning.</p> - -<p>Rhoda went down to the veranda, taking with -her the white silk out of which she was making a -bonnet for her mother, with her heart full of -tenderest emotion. Mrs. Ware’s delight and -enthusiasm had made still warmer and deeper her -own thrilling happiness. As her fingers flew over -her work she listened to the faint tones of her -lover’s voice, and a soft glow stole into her eyes. -Delavan surprised it there when presently he came -from her father’s office.</p> - -<p>“Rhoda!” he exclaimed. She saw the love-light -flame across his face and the color mounted -to her brow. He sought to take her hand, but -she drew it away, saying shyly, “Not yet.”</p> - -<p>He went into the house to bid Mrs. Ware good-by, -for he was going at once, in order to catch -the forenoon trip of the ferry boat across the -river. When he came out Rhoda put down her<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[50]</span> -work and walked with him down the broad path -between the hedges of lilac to the front gate.</p> - -<p>“When can I have my answer?” he pleaded. -“The next time I come?”</p> - -<p>On the instant there sprang up in her heart a -something she had never felt before. It was not -the first time she had listened to the pleadings -of a would-be lover, but never before had there -been one who had not got his answer, frank and -straightforward, at once; never one toward whom -she had felt this instinctive impulse to enjoy his -suspense. Serious-minded offspring of her father -though she was, yet it was not for nothing that -she was her mother’s daughter. Already she -knew what her answer was to be and knew that she -could give it to him at any moment. Her short -upper lip lifted in a flashing little smile that illumined -her whole face. Delavan drew toward -her, his eyes upon the soft curves of her mouth.</p> - -<p>“How can I tell?” she said. “There is so -much to think over—I must have time.”</p> - -<p>“Your mother would be very pleased!”</p> - -<p>“Yes, dear mother, I know,” she murmured -fondly. “She loved your mother so dearly. And -father? You talked with him, just now?”</p> - -<p>“He says that I may win you if I can.” It did -not occur to him to say anything about the doubt -Dr. Ware had expressed of his success, or the -attitude her father had warningly declared he -would take. All that had been swept out of his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[51]</span> -mind—he had not even thought it of much consequence -at the time. And now, looking down -upon Rhoda’s blushing face, he forgot everything -but the hope that if he could induce her to lift her -downcast eyes he might surprise surrender therein. -But he was to be disappointed in that, for when -presently he did look into their gray depths they -were merely gentle and serious.</p> - -<p>“When may I come again?”</p> - -<p>“We shall all be glad to see you whenever you -come—Mr. Delavan—”</p> - -<p>“At least you might call me Jeff,” he interrupted, -“as you did when we were children!”</p> - -<p>“Well then, Jeff,” and her manner took on with -the word a shade more of intimacy, which sent his -eyes flying once more to hers. “I’m sure—Jeff—” -this time she said it mockingly—“mother -will be pleased if you come again soon. And -we’ll all be glad to see you.”</p> - -<p>“And you?”</p> - -<p>“Of course! There’s so much we haven’t talked -over yet about those happy days we had so long -ago— And we might play pirates again—if -you’ll bring Lloyd Corey with you! He was such -a nice boy! I’d really like to see him again.”</p> - -<p>“Confound Lloyd Corey! Shall I have to -carry you off, as I did that time, or shall you have -something to tell me then?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I can’t promise—” she hesitated and her -voice took on an intonation as she spoke his name<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[52]</span> -that sent a thrill to his heart,—“Jeff—anything -about it—what I shall say, or whether I can have -anything to say then, more than now. But I -would like to see Lloyd Corey again!”</p> - -<p>Leaning upon the gate, Rhoda watched her -lover’s figure as he swung down the long, tree-bowered -street. When she turned she saw her -father coming down the path and waited there, -blushing and casting up at him now and again a -shy glance.</p> - -<p>“Young Delavan surprised me very much just -now,” he began. “I told him, as I suppose he -reported to you, that he had my consent to win you -if he could. I don’t suppose, though, that he -also told you I didn’t believe he could and that it -would grieve me deeply to see you marry him.”</p> - -<p>Rhoda bent upon him surprised eyes. “Why, -father, what do you mean? Don’t you like him?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, Rhoda, I like him well enough, personally, -but you know how I feel about slavery and -all who are responsible for it. Have you forgotten -that Jefferson Delavan is a slaveholder?”</p> - -<p>The color faded from her face, and into her -wide, gray eyes, fastened upon his, there came a -look, as of some wild thing suddenly stricken, that -smote his heart. She flinched a little and he turned -away, that he might not see her pain.</p> - -<p>“I guess, daughter, you hadn’t thought about -that,” he went on, kindly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[53]</span>“No,” she repeated after him, “I—I hadn’t -thought about that.”</p> - -<p>“But you knew that he has slaves, that he works -his plantation with slave labor?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, father, I knew it, somewhere back in my -mind, but I didn’t think anything about it. I -didn’t think of anything but—just him!”</p> - -<p>“But you’ll have to think about it now,” he said -in a gently suggestive tone.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” she assented dully, “I’ll have to think -about it now”—she stopped, then went on with a -flash of pain in her tone, “when I can think!”</p> - -<p>“You must try to realize,” her father went on, -“before it is too late, how you would like to be -the mistress of slaves, supported by slave labor, -your welfare and all your interests so bound up -with the system of slavery that you will be forced -to become one of its defenders.”</p> - -<p>Her head drooped and she turned away with -a little gesture of one hand as though begging him -to stop. He waited a moment and she faced him -again and said slowly, with little breaks and catchings -of her breath: “Father! I don’t believe I -could do it! I—love him—I want to be his wife—but—slaves! -I couldn’t! I know I couldn’t!”</p> - -<p>She broke down then and began to sob softly -under her breath. He put his hand through her -arm and led her up the path to the house.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Ware came out to meet them, anxiety in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[54]</span> -her face. “What is it? What’s the matter?” -she questioned.</p> - -<p>Rhoda straightened up and rested one hand -upon her mother’s shoulder. Mrs. Ware was -short and plump of stature and Rhoda, tall and -of slender build like her father, looked down into -her face with tear-filled eyes.</p> - -<p>“Mother,” she began, her tone already self-controlled, -“I’m afraid you’ll feel badly about it, but—I -don’t think I can marry Jeff Delavan, after -all.”</p> - -<p>“Rhoda! Child! What is the trouble? What -have you been saying to her, Amos?”</p> - -<p>“There, mother! You mustn’t blame father. -He only reminded me that Jeff is a slaveholder. -Of course, I knew it before, but I—just hadn’t -thought about it. Mother, you’ll think me foolish, -I know, but I don’t—I don’t think I can -marry him.”</p> - -<p>“Is that all? Dear child, you’re making a -mountain out of nothing at all! Come with me, -dear. Your father has been putting foolish -notions into your head. Come, we’ll talk it over, -and you’ll soon see there’s nothing in that to keep -you apart!”</p> - -<p>Rhoda bent her head for a moment upon her -mother’s shoulder and, half reluctantly drawing -herself from her father’s arm, which seemed even -more unwilling to let her go, started into the -house.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[55]</span>In their absorption they had not heard Charlotte -coming up the walk. “What’s the matter?” she -exclaimed, seizing her father’s hand. “Is Rhoda -sick?”</p> - -<p>“You may tell her, father,” Rhoda turned to -say, as she and Mrs. Ware disappeared through -the door.</p> - -<p>“Well, what is it?” Charlotte demanded briskly, -as her father hesitated.</p> - -<p>“Jeff Delavan wants to marry her.”</p> - -<p>“Humph! Is that anything to cry about?” she -commented, sitting down on the veranda step. -“Where is he? Is he crying too?”</p> - -<p>“He’s gone home—he went a little while ago.”</p> - -<p>She looked up surprised. “Oh, has he? I -thought he’d still be here. But what’s Rhoda -crying about? Because he’s gone away so soon? -Then why didn’t she keep him? She didn’t refuse -him, did she?”</p> - -<p>“No, she didn’t give him a definite answer. -And since he went away she has remembered that -he is a slaveholder. You know how she and I -feel about slavery.”</p> - -<p>Charlotte sprang to her feet excitedly. “You -don’t mean to say she’s going to take that into -account! I didn’t think she could be such a -goose!” She looked up at him with twinkling -eyes. “Father, why didn’t you take me down to -Cincinnati with you, so he could have seen me -first? Oh, well, I suppose he’ll come back again,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[56]</span> -won’t he?” And with a toss of her head she ran -into the house, stopping at the door to throw back -at him an audacious laugh.</p> - -<p>He gazed after her, an indulgent smile on his -face. Did the look of her and the ring of her -saucy laugh awaken some memory of the long ago -wherein flitted another dainty, girlish figure so -much like her that she sometimes startled him? -At any rate, a still warmth took possession of his -heart and drove out the slight resentment that -just now crept in when his wife took Rhoda away -to try to induce her to a course of action so directly -opposed to his own convictions.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[57]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER VI</h2> -</div> - -<p>“That’s just right, Rhoda.” Charlotte nodded -at herself in the mirror and smiled with satisfaction -as she turned this way and that, surveying -her reflection at different angles. “I hope you -won’t marry Jeff Delavan, for then I’d have to -learn how to do this myself.”</p> - -<p>“You ought to learn how to make your own -clothes, anyway,” her mother commented reprovingly. -The three of them were in an upstairs -chamber used as a sewing-room, Rhoda fitting -upon her sister the bodice of a white gown and -Mrs. Ware, between stitches as she darned a -three-cornered tear in the muslin window curtain -which the kitten had just made, looking on and -making suggestions.</p> - -<p>Charlotte tossed her head and tilted her hoopskirts -as she did some dancing steps in front of -the mirror. “Oh, what’s the use, as long as -Rhoda likes to sew and I don’t! You couldn’t, -mother, when you were my age. I hope she won’t -marry anybody as long as I’m at home. You’re -an awful goose, Rhoda. Suppose Jeff Delavan -is a slaveholder—what do you care about a pack -of dirty niggers? They’re better off as slaves, -anyway. Billy Saunders has lived in South Carolina<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[58]</span> -and he says you couldn’t find anybody anywhere -more contented and happy than the nigger -slaves down South and that they’re no more fit to -be free and take care of themselves than so many -babies.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” assented Mrs. Ware, “it has always -seemed to me that they need white masters to -provide for their welfare. They really are not -competent to take care of themselves.”</p> - -<p>Rhoda listened to their talk as she adjusted a -ruffled fichu about her sister’s shoulders, but made -no comment. Nobody but she knew how wistfully, -during these days, she was hearkening to arguments -in favor of slavery.</p> - -<p>Charlotte surveyed herself critically in the glass -once more and patted the fichu with approval. -“It’s lovely, Rhoda, and I’m so glad you’re a -Black Abolitionist! No good-looking young slaveholder -would need to ask me more than once—that -is, he wouldn’t need to if he knew it, but it’s more -interesting to make them ask several times—didn’t -you use to think so, mother? The more slaves -he had the better I’d like him—and the more -times I’d let him propose. Oh, la! How lovely it -would be to have a dozen or so slaves ready to -come the minute you call, and every time you look -out of a window to see droves of them, all working -for you! That would just suit us, wouldn’t it, -Bully Brooks?” And she caught up the kitten<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[59]</span> -from the floor in time to save the curtain, swaying -in the breeze, from another attack.</p> - -<p>“It’s perfectly silly of you, Rhoda,” she went on, -as she tilted out of the room, the kitten on her -shoulder, “to care any more about Jeff Delavan’s -having a lot of slaves than you would if they -were so many horses. Isn’t it, Bully Brooks?”</p> - -<p>The kitten gave quick and loud response and -Mrs. Ware, with a frown in her voice, called after -her, “Charlotte!” But she heard in reply from -down the hall only a merry laugh and the whistled -strains of “Comin’ through the Rye.”</p> - -<p>“Charlotte is not sympathetic,” said her mother -fondly, putting an arm around Rhoda and pressing -her cheek to her daughter’s, “but her ideas are -certainly correct. And any one will tell you so, -dear, who has lived in the South and knows what -slavery really is. You’ve no right, Rhoda, as I’ve -already told you, to set yourself up in judgment -on a subject you know nothing about, and against -those who know all about it. Why can’t you trust -your mother, honey?”</p> - -<p>She put her hands upon her daughter’s shoulders -and looked up beseechingly into Rhoda’s -troubled face. “I know all about slavery, dearie,” -she went on, “for I lived in the heart of it until I -was married, and I give you my word the niggers -are far happier and better off under it than they -would be if they were free. They don’t want -freedom. And they are so grateful to their masters<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[60]</span> -and mistresses and so fond of them! Why, -dear, my old mammy loved me almost as much, I -do believe, as my mother did!”</p> - -<p>Rhoda recalled what her father had told her -of that “old mammy’s” fate and pressed her lips -together in sudden fear lest, in spite of his injunction, -she might tell what she knew.</p> - -<p>“I know, mother,” she said falteringly, “at -your home it seems to have been as near right as -it could be; but, mother, dear, they’re human -beings, and I can’t make it seem right, no matter -how much I think about it and try to see it as you -do, that they should be bought and sold!”</p> - -<p>“That’s only because you don’t know much -about niggers, dear child! They’re not really -human beings, in the sense that we are. If you -had grown up among them as I did you would -understand that. Charlotte is quite right in saying -they are no more to be considered than horses.”</p> - -<p>They sat down on the black horsehair sofa and -Mrs. Ware went on, her soft, southern tones full -of pleading, one hand fluttering over the girl in -little caressing touches: “If you knew them as I -do, Rhoda, and knew how contented they are, you -wouldn’t feel a moment’s hesitation. And everybody -lives so happily down there! Such hospitality, -such friendships, such enjoyment of life—everything -so gracious and charming! There’s -nothing like it in the North! How homesick it -makes me, even yet, to think of it! Oh, honey!<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[61]</span> -If I could only see you settled in the midst of it, -you don’t know how happy it would make me! -And Jeff—I don’t believe you realize, Rhoda, how -much he loves you! You ought to have heard him -talk to me about you! Jeff would do anything to -make you happy!”</p> - -<p>Rhoda’s head dropped to her mother’s shoulder. -“Oh, mother!” she cried, “I wish—I wish you -could convince me!”</p> - -<p>When she carried her sewing down to the -veranda a little later Mrs. Ware’s eyes followed -her with a gaze of mingled longing and misgiving. -“Now she will go and talk with her father,” was -the mother’s thought, “and he will undo all that -I’ve gained.”</p> - -<p>Rhoda saw that her father’s carriage was at the -east gate, waiting for him, and she had scarcely -seated herself with her sewing when he came out -from his door. “Oh, Rhoda,” he called, “will you -come here a minute, please?</p> - -<p>“I’d like you to do something for me this -morning,” he went on as they stepped back into -the office. “You know where the Mallard place -is? The first one beyond Gilbertson’s. They -have sent in for some more medicine for their sick -child, but if there have been certain results I want -to make a change in the treatment. The man who -brought me the message didn’t know anything -about it and I’ve got a hurry call that’s likely to -keep me all day. I’ll give you two kinds of medicine,”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[62]</span> -and he began putting them up as he continued -talking, “and if the child is sleeping well -and has no fever you can leave this package—the -directions are written here. But if not I want it -to have this, until I go out there to-morrow. -Don’t say anything about having the two kinds, -but make your inquiries, and leave the package that -the symptoms call for, and tell them I’ll call -to-morrow.”</p> - -<p>“All right, father. I can ride Dolly, I suppose? -I’ll enjoy having a gallop this morning.”</p> - -<p>“If she’d only been a boy,” he thought, as he -hurried into the carriage and drove away, “I’d -have made a doctor of her. It’s a pity she wasn’t—she’d -make a first-class one, if she wasn’t a -woman.” He held the thought regretfully for a -moment. But, radical though he was upon many -subjects, it did not occur to him that Rhoda could -be a woman and a physician at the same time.</p> - -<p>As he drove down the main street, past the law -office of Horace Hardaker, that young man -rushed out and signaled him to stop. “If you’ve -got anything to tell me, Horace,” he said, reining -up at the sidewalk, “jump in and come along for a -few blocks. I’m in a hurry and can’t stop.”</p> - -<p>“A piece of U. G. baggage came over the river -last night,” Hardaker began as they drove on, his -voice just above a whisper, “and went to Conners’ -house, as he had been directed. You know they’ve -been keeping a close watch on Conners lately, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[63]</span> -this morning Marshal Hanscomb swooped down -while the baggage was still there. But Mrs. Conners -got him into a bonnet and veil and dress of -hers, while Conners kept the slave catchers at the -front door a few minutes. She did a lot of talking -and laughing in the kitchen, as if she was saying -good-by to some neighbor woman, and hustled him -out of the back door, just as Conners had to let -them in at the front. He got away all right, with -directions for going on to Gilbertson’s. If he gets -there they’ll hide him in their hollow haystack until -the immediate danger blows over. But the marshal -and his catchers are after him to-day, and it’s a -chance if he makes it.”</p> - -<p>Dr. Ware’s face was serious. “No, Conners’ -house won’t do any longer—it isn’t safe,” he commented, -in low tones. “We’ve got to find some -other place. My house is the best, if things turn -out all right. But I don’t know yet how it’s going -to be. You met that young man from Kentucky -there last week, the evening of the meeting. He’s -a slaveholder, but he wants to marry Rhoda.”</p> - -<p>Hardaker made a sudden, nervous movement -and the doctor, casting a sidewise glance, saw a -flush overspread his face. “I know, Horace—that -is, I guessed,” he said kindly, “and I wish, from -the bottom of my heart, that she might have felt -differently about it.”</p> - -<p>“So do I, doctor,” the other answered grimly, -“but—she didn’t. Is she—does she—” he went<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[64]</span> -on awkwardly and Dr. Ware took the burden of -the question from him.</p> - -<p>“She doesn’t know yet what she’ll do. If she -decides to marry him that will put an end to my -scheme. I’d have to have somebody in the house -in sympathy with the work. Rhoda is so capable, -she could take the thing right into her own hands -and carry it on so quietly that nobody would know -what she was about. I wish I’d got it started before -Delavan appeared on the scene.”</p> - -<p>“Delavan?” Hardaker repeated with sudden -interest. “Is his name Jefferson Delavan?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. He has a tobacco plantation down below -Lexington.”</p> - -<p>Horace slapped his knee. “The same one!” he -exclaimed softly, and went on in reply to Dr. -Ware’s look of inquiry: “He’s the owner of that -slave they so nearly caught at Conners’ house this -morning, and he’s out with Marshal Hanscomb -following the fellow now!”</p> - -<p>Dr. Ware pursed his lips in a subdued whistle. -“Then he’s likely to come to my house again -before he goes back. I’m sorry—he’s a taking -sort of chap, and Rhoda likes him.”</p> - -<hr class="tb"> - -<p>The sun was hot and Rhoda, on her homeward -way, slowed her horse to a walk and sought the -shady side of the road. Her thoughts were busy -with her mother’s recent pleadings and arguments. -A little frown wrinkled the wide space between<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[65]</span> -her level brows. “No,” she said to herself, “no, -father’s right about slavery—and mother’s wrong—she -doesn’t really know as much about it as he -does, although she did live there so long.”</p> - -<p>Her thoughts lingered over the stories her -mother had told her of life on the southern plantations, -its gaiety and refinement and gracious -hospitality, and into her mind came the picture of -the Delavan home as she had seen it on a spring -afternoon of her childhood—the long, noble driveway, -tree-arched, up which the carriage swept, the -massive brick house with its wide verandas, half -hidden among trees, the carriage circling the great -lawn and drawing up at last at the steps, and Mrs. -Delavan coming eagerly forward to receive them, -her husband by her side and close behind her the -two children, Jeff and Emily. And then, of a -sudden, it was herself she saw in the mental picture, -with Jeff Delavan at her side, standing on -the wide veranda and welcoming their guests. A -smile flashed across her face and a tender light -shone in her eyes. “Oh, Jeff, Jeff!” she whispered. -“I do want to be your wife!”</p> - -<p>She looked about her, a sweet longing in her -heart. Her horse was moving at a walk down a -long, sloping hill. Her eyes followed the road up -the opposite rise and she saw a man’s figure come -across the top and start downward at a run. She -wondered idly why any one should be running like -that on so hot a day. As they neared each other<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[66]</span> -at the foot of the hill she saw that he was a -mulatto, very light in color, but with negro blood -nevertheless plainly manifest in skin and eyes. -The thought flashed through her mind that perhaps -he was a runaway slave and at once her heart -warmed with compassion.</p> - -<p>He was near enough to see the expression of -pity that swept across her face and he came toward -her with a half-wary, half-questioning look.</p> - -<p>“What is it? Can I help you?” she asked -impulsively.</p> - -<p>“Can you tell me, Miss,—am I on the right -road to Gilbertson’s—is it much farther?” he -panted.</p> - -<p>“About three miles, right on, along this road.”</p> - -<p>“Three miles!” His face fell and despair -leaped into his eyes. He glanced at the trees which -thinly clothed the hillside. “Is there any place in -there where I can hide? Are there any houses—safe -ones?”</p> - -<p>She bent toward him, looking straight into his -eyes. “Are you just running away from slavery? -Have you done anything wrong?”</p> - -<p>He held her gaze unflinchingly as he answered: -“I’ve done nothing wrong—nothing but try to get -my freedom—but that’s the worst of crimes, south -of the Ohio River.”</p> - -<p>“Then I’ll help you. I know where you can -hide.” He assisted her to dismount and she -gathered up her long riding skirt and began to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[67]</span> -climb the rail fence. “There’s a cave over here a -little ways,” she went on. “I haven’t been there -for years, but I think I can find it. Yes, here’s -the path.”</p> - -<p>“We must hurry,” he cautioned. “They’re -coming after me, and they’re not far behind. If -they turn off on that other road back there—I’ll -be safe—this time.”</p> - -<p>She led the way and they walked on rapidly -through the straggling bushes and timber. The -hill was steeper here and the path sidled and -zigzagged toward its summit, for some distance -in view of the road. Halfway up the hillside it -made a sharp turn around a huge boulder and -plunged into a thicker growth of shrubs and young -trees. As the man, several paces in the rear, -reached this point he cast a quick glance at the -road and saw a horseman come into view across -the top of the rise.</p> - -<p>He sprang forward, exclaiming in a shrill whisper, -“Hurry! My master is coming! I saw him -cross the hill!”</p> - -<p>She drew her skirts higher and broke into a -run. “Did he see you?” she threw back at him, -and her swift glance caught sight of a pistol in his -hand.</p> - -<p>“I don’t know. Show me the cave, and then -you must get out of the way!”</p> - -<p>“You won’t shoot him?” she demanded, turning -sharply round.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[68]</span>“I will if I have to. I’m not going back into -slavery!” was his answer in a dogged voice.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_069.jpg" alt=""></div> -<p class="caption">“‘You won’t shoot him?’ she demanded, turning sharply around.”</p> - -<p>They heard the neigh of a horse, over in the -road, and an answering call from Rhoda’s mare, -which she had left tied to the fence. “Are we -nearly there?” asked the mulatto.</p> - -<p>The path sloped downward again and she sped -onward, her thoughts flashing, lightning like, -across her mind. If the slaves really did not want -freedom, if they were happy and contented in -slavery, why was this man taking such desperate -chances? Perhaps he was fleeing from a master -as cruel as Uncle Tom’s. She would ask him—at -last she could find out the truth from one of those -who alone knew what was the truth.</p> - -<p>Rhoda stopped beside a thick tangle of hazel -bushes that grew against the face of a sharp rise -of the hill.</p> - -<p>“Here it is,” she said. “Go around to the -other side of this thicket and between the bushes -and the hill just a little ways in, you’ll see the -opening into the cave. It’s perfectly safe—only -children ever go there.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you, miss, thank you!” he breathed as -he hurried past her. Then he paused an instant -and half turned toward her again. “You’d better -get out of harm’s way, quick! If Jeff Delavan -did see me just now he won’t stop till he finds me, -if he has to burn the woods down to do it! And -I won’t be taken!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[69]</span>He rushed on around the thicket and did not -see how she suddenly stiffened and the color faded -from her face, leaving it white to the lips.</p> - -<p>“Jeff Delavan!” she repeated. “Is he your -master?”</p> - -<p>The runaway was peering into the mouth of the -cave, making sure that the way was clear, but at -the amazed tone of her question he straightened -up, threw back his head and his voice was tense -with bitterness:</p> - -<p>“Yes, miss, he is my owner—and also my -brother!”</p> - -<p>“What!” Her horrified exclamation made him -look at her again more sharply and he saw a -scarlet flush mounting to her brow.</p> - -<p>“You needn’t be surprised!” he went on hotly. -“It’s common enough in slavery. We had the -same father. Good-by, miss! God bless you!”</p> - -<p>Still gripping his revolver he dropped behind -the bushes. Rhoda, intently listening, heard him -scrambling through the mouth of the cave. “Is -it all right?” she asked softly.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” came the muffled reply.</p> - -<p>“You can put up your pistol,” she went on, and -even the desperate fugitive huddled in the darkness -of the cave, the blood pounding in his ears, -was conscious of a sharp hardness in her repressed -tones that had not been there before. “I promise -he shall not find you!”</p> - -<p>Rhoda sped back up the hill, at first conscious<span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[70]</span> -of little but a whirling in her head and a weight -like stone in her breast. As she neared the highest -point in the path she heard footsteps coming -toward her. Instantly her nerves seemed to -steady themselves and her mind grew clear. Holding -her riding skirt with one hand she began breaking -branches from the flowering viburnum that -grew thickly beneath the trees. So Jefferson -Delavan saw her as he hastily rounded the bend -in the trail beside the boulder.</p> - -<p>“Rhoda!” he exclaimed in joyful surprise, “you -here!” In his sudden lover’s gladness he did not -notice that there was no answering surprise in her -face. He sprang toward her, but she moved back -a step or two and shifted her handful of flowering -branches from the curve of her arm, holding it -between them.</p> - -<p>“Yes, I’m here—I—I wanted some flowers.”</p> - -<p>His glance darted anxiously beyond, but came -back and rested upon her tenderly.</p> - -<p>“Are you alone, dear? Is it safe? I thought -I heard voices just now.”</p> - -<p>“You did,” she replied calmly. Her brain was -working clearly and rapidly now as her thoughts -flashed over what she must accomplish.</p> - -<p>“Rhoda, you ought not to be here alone,” he -went on insistently. “You don’t know who may -be wandering through these woods.” Again his -glance left her face and swept the hillside. “I -am looking for a runaway now,” he pursued. “I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[71]</span> -was sure I saw him on this path, just as he disappeared -among these bushes. Did you see him? -It was only a few minutes ago.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I saw him.” He stared at her, wondering -what might mean the little thrill in her tones.</p> - -<p>“You did? Where did he go?”</p> - -<p>“I shall not tell you.”</p> - -<p>“What do you mean, Rhoda?”</p> - -<p>“I mean—I know where he is—I showed him -where to hide—and—I shall not let you find him!” -She had dropped her riding skirt and its long -black folds fell closely around her slender figure. -He stood a little below her on the hillside and as -he looked up and saw the calm determination on -her face, amazement overspread his own.</p> - -<p>“Rhoda, you don’t realize what you are saying,” -he expostulated. “The fellow belongs to -me—he is my slave!”</p> - -<p>Her face was white and stern and her eyes shining. -Even so had stood one of her foremothers, -generations agone, in Salem town, facing the charge -that her daughter was a witch. She drew herself -up and her lip, that short upper lip that he could -not see part from its fellow without a thrill in his -heart, curled scornfully. “He told me that he is -your brother,” came her swift reply.</p> - -<p>He looked at her a moment, his face flushing, -before he answered, a touch of indulgent wonder -in his tone: “And you believed him? You don’t<span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[72]</span> -understand how these niggers boast over—things -they know nothing about.”</p> - -<p>She made a little gesture, as if passing by an -inconsequent matter. “It’s of no difference. You -shall not have him.”</p> - -<p>Intensely annoyed though he was his heart -leaped toward her warmly, as she stood there -among the white viburnums, so tall and pale and -determined. That high and fearless spirit was -akin to his own and challenged his admiration. -But—this would never do—she must be made to -understand. He drew a little toward her again -and as she looked down into his face and read his -heart in it she felt her own stir in response.</p> - -<p>“But, Rhoda,” his voice was tender and lingered -over her name, “you don’t realize what you are -doing.” Unconsciously her figure relaxed into -less rigid lines and within her breast she began to -feel a soft, insidious longing. “In hiding a runaway -slave you are disobeying the law—you are -guilty of a criminal act. The marshal and his -men were just behind me—they went down the -other road, but are coming back. They’ll be here -soon!”</p> - -<p>“I shall not give him up—no matter what they -do—I shall not let you find him.” At that moment -she was seeing in her mind’s eye the pistol in -the fugitive’s hands and hearing his desperate -words, “I won’t be taken!” Her eyes fell anxiously -upon her lover.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[73]</span>They heard the clatter of galloping horses on -the road. “That’s the marshal!” he exclaimed. -“Rhoda, you must not let them find you here, hiding -a runaway nigger. I could not hinder your -arrest. They will take you to prison!”</p> - -<p>She bent toward him, smiling gently. “Jeff”—she -began and an undertone of sweetness ran -through her voice that made his pulses leap—“are -you going to let them—find me here?”</p> - -<p>For an instant he seemed about to leap forward -and take her in his arms. Then his body sagged, -he drew back and the protest of a strong man -whose determination has been bewitched away -from him was in his voice:</p> - -<p>“Rhoda, you are taking advantage of my love!”</p> - -<p>The smile that for him was always adorable -broke like a sudden illumination over her face, -shining even in her serious eyes and melting her -mouth, just now stern and scornful, into tender, -alluring curves. “Of course I am!” she agreed, -and added, as she glanced down demurely and up -again into his face, “And aren’t you going to let -me?”</p> - -<p>A shout came through the woods from the road: -“Delavan! Are you there? Have you found -him?”</p> - -<p>Jefferson Delavan searched for an instant in -his breast pocket as he called back: “No,—I’m -coming—wait for me—I’ll be there in a minute!”</p> - -<p>He took out an old envelope and hurriedly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[74]</span> -wrote a few lines on the back. “There,” he said -as he handed it to Rhoda, “is proof of my love. -I’ll send you the legal papers to-night.”</p> - -<p>He lifted his hat, bowed, and sprang down the -path. A moment later she heard him saying, -rather loudly, to the men at the fence, “No, we’ve -missed him somewhere. A lady is in there gathering -flowers and if he had gone this way she would -have seen him. Come, let’s hurry back.”</p> - -<p>She listened to the sound of their horses’ hoofs -clattering up the hill and as it died away in the -distance she swayed against the tree beside her and -dropped her head into her hands.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[75]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER VII</h2> -</div> - -<p>Through all the afternoon Rhoda stayed in her -room, thinking over her adventure of the morning -and considering whether it would be to her mother -or her father that she would tell the whole story. -Of one thing she felt sure—that she could not -marry Jefferson Delavan, that she could not be -the wife of a man who believed in slavery and held -slaves. To that decision had she come swiftly, -after her doubts and longings and vacillations of -the last week, while she listened to the departing -hoofbeats of the marshal’s party, going away -without the fugitive. To both, of course, she -would make known this determination, and to her -father she would tell the incident about the negro. -But she wanted to pour forth the whole affair to -some one who would understand and sympathize -and be tender with her because of the ache in her -heart.</p> - -<p>Her mother would be sorely disappointed by -her final decision and shocked and grieved, if told -of it, by what she had done that morning and -would be able to see in the whole affair and in the -conclusion to which she had come nothing but -wrong-headedness and fanaticism. Rhoda knew -that she could depend upon her loving heart and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[76]</span> -motherly tenderness and longed for her caressing -arms and her soothing voice. But she knew also -that Mrs. Ware could never understand why, if -she loved Jefferson Delavan, she would not marry -him, and she winced at the thought of what a -blow to her mother her refusal would be. Her -father would know just how she felt about it; he -would understand and appreciate the convictions -that had impelled her and he would be deeply -pleased. She knew just the light of satisfaction -that would flash into his eye. But he would not -sympathize or be tender with her unhappiness. -A touch of bitterness tinged her feeling as she -thought how different it would be were Charlotte -to go to him with a breaking heart.</p> - -<p>Ever since her childhood had Rhoda stood thus -wistfully between her parents. Between her -father and herself there was always intellectual -understanding. Their minds worked alike and -they saw things in the same way, just as in facial -and bodily appearance there was much resemblance -between them. But it seemed to Rhoda that this -very physical and mental likeness had caused him -to hold her at a distance. Even as a little girl he -had never welcomed her affectionate advances as -he had Charlotte’s. She, on the other hand, had -always been drawn to him more than to her -mother, and she could still remember many a time -when, a little thing in pantalettes and short -dresses, she had slipped away with a trembling<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[77]</span> -lip and hidden herself to fight back the tears which -would come because he had taken Charlotte up in -his arms and kissed her and had ignored Charlotte’s -elder sister. As she grew older they had -become good friends and she knew that he liked -to make a companion of her and that he talked -with her much more freely than with Charlotte. -But between them there was never any expression -of sentiment.</p> - -<p>And now her aching heart was longing for -understanding, sympathy, tenderness, love, all -from one source, without having to make revelation -of itself. What she really wanted, although -she was not well enough versed in self-analysis to -know it, was something that would take the place -of the love she was casting aside,—or, more accurately, -that love itself. She came near enough -to such knowledge to say to herself, in the midst -of her unhappiness, “Jeff would understand and—and -be sorry, if I could only tell him all about -it!” And then she smiled, seeing the absurdity of -the idea. But notwithstanding her little flash of -amusement at herself she felt vaguely, in the background -of her woe-filled consciousness, that only -the supreme love between man and woman can -carry that full measure of comprehension, sympathy, -tolerance and affection for which human -nature forever yearns.</p> - -<p>Finally it was to her father she went, when he -returned in the late afternoon.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[78]</span>“I know you’re tired, father,” she hesitated at -the door of his office as she saw him stretched, -coatless, upon the lounge, “but I’d like to see you -a little while—and it’s important.”</p> - -<p>“Come in, Rhoda. What is it? The Mallard -child? Not getting worse, is it?”</p> - -<p>“No. It’s—it’s about me. I’ve made up my -mind to-day, father, that I won’t marry Mr. -Delavan.”</p> - -<p>He sat up and across his face and into his eyes -leaped the expression of pleased satisfaction that -she had known would shine there at her news. -But all he said was:</p> - -<p>“You’ve decided wisely, I think.” Nevertheless, -his professional eye had already noted the -signs still lingering in her countenance of her -afternoon’s vigil alone with her heart, and if she -could have known what compassion and tenderness -stirred in his breast she would have been surprised -and comforted.</p> - -<p>“But that’s not all, father—such a queer thing -happened as I was coming home,” she hurried on, -trying hard to speak in a matter-of-fact tone. -Long ago, in her early girlhood, when she had -first discovered in her father an inclination to make -a companion of her, in her pride and eagerness to -be felt worthy of such honor she had unconsciously -begun to imitate toward him his own unemotional -manner toward her. And the habit had grown<span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[79]</span> -upon her of thinking that in his presence she must -repress any show of feeling.</p> - -<p>She told him in detail how she met the runaway -slave, how she secreted him in the cave and then -encountered Jefferson Delavan. But she glossed -over this part of the incident, saying only:</p> - -<p>“And I told him at once I had hidden the man -and that I would not give him up, no matter what -the marshal might do, and when the men came and -called to him from the road he answered that the -slave wasn’t there and wrote quickly on an old -envelope an agreement to give the nigger his freedom. -He said he’d send the legal papers to me -to-night and then he took the others away, so that -they didn’t see me at all.”</p> - -<p>She ceased speaking abruptly and silence fell -upon them. Dr. Ware was gazing fixedly at her -as he searched the meager words of her recital, -trying to find in them some revelation of what -really had passed between the two lovers. He -felt that there must have been some brief but -determined conflict of wills for the possession of -the slave, and he guessed that Rhoda had won -by feminine wile of love. The episode drove in -upon him the unwelcome conviction that the feeling -between them, notwithstanding the shortness -of their acquaintance, must be deep and genuine. -But he remembered how suddenly and irrevocably -he himself had fallen in love in the days of his -young manhood and, recalling certain indications<span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[80]</span> -of character in Jeff Delavan’s countenance, he -thought uneasily, “I wonder if he’ll take ‘no’ for -an answer, after all.” He came back to her story.</p> - -<p>“Did you give the agreement to the nigger?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. After they were gone quite out of hearing -I went back to the cave and gave it to him and -told him to go on to Gilbertson’s and wait there -for the legal papers.”</p> - -<p>“Good! That was the best arrangement to -make! If Delavan sends them as he promised -I’ll take them out to-morrow, when I go to Mallard’s.”</p> - -<p>“And then he’ll be quite free, and out of all -danger?”</p> - -<p>“Theoretically, yes, as long as he doesn’t lose -his emancipation papers. But if he is wise he -will get out of this free country of ours”—a -cynical bitterness sounded in his voice—“and go -on to Canada, where there’ll be no danger of his -being kidnaped and taken back into slavery.”</p> - -<p>Rhoda mused for a moment “Father!” she -exclaimed suddenly, and in both voice and manner -he was aware of some new feeling and access of -energy that seemed full of significance. “What -do you think? Is this awful thing always going -to divide the North from the South? Are we always -going to hate each other like this? Is there -any help for it?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know, Rhoda. Sometimes, when I -see how the North is forever knuckling under to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[81]</span> -the South, giving up political supremacy and getting -more and more craven every year, I pretty -nearly lose all hope. I’m convinced that there’s -only one way out of it—we’ve got to fight. And -when we do fight the North will win, because we’ve -got more men and more money. The sooner it -comes the better, and I’m glad to see every new -insult the South piles on us, for if we’ve got any -spirit at all up here we’ve got to resent it some -day.”</p> - -<p>Rhoda looked at him with intent eyes. His -tall, angular figure was full of energy, his eyes -sparkled and in his face shone the liveliest conviction.</p> - -<p>“War, father! That would be so horrible!”</p> - -<p>“Yes, of course it would. But it would end -the business. And slavery is one long, unending -horror.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, that is just what it is,” she assented -earnestly. “It is too horrible to think of!”</p> - -<p>Again he gazed at her sharply, wondering -through what upheaval of emotion she had gone -that morning that had landed her so suddenly just -where he wished her to stand, when he had begun -to fear that her face would be turned the other -way. “That nigger this morning,” she went on -hurriedly, “he was a mulatto, said that he—he—was -Jeff’s brother! Only think of it, father! -What sort of an effect can slavery have upon a -man to make him willing to hold his brother as a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[82]</span> -slave, a beast to be bought and sold! It’s too -horrible!”</p> - -<p>Dr. Ware began to understand. Her lover -had fallen from her ideal of him and she was -casting the blame not upon him but back upon the -institution for which he stood. It was significant -of the complexity of his nature that, as he looked -upon her pale face, shining eyes and curling lip, -something akin to compassion for the absent -lover stirred within him, notwithstanding the bitterness -of his own feeling against slavery and all -it meant.</p> - -<p>“Such things happen down south. I’ve known -some instances that were certainly true. But it’s -possible that sometimes the niggers boast when -they have no right to. As long as you have only -the runaway’s word for it, Delavan ought to have -the benefit of the doubt. The Lord knows he, or -any slaveholder, has enough to answer for, anyway.”</p> - -<p>Rhoda scarcely seemed to hear him. She sat -silent for a moment and the animation faded from -her face. “The man had a pistol,” she presently -went on “and if Jeff—if Mr. Delavan—had found -him I’m sure he would have shot—to kill, rather -than be taken. He said he would.”</p> - -<p>Her father bent upon her a puzzled look. Here -was still another factor in the motives, or the impulses, -which had moved her to action. How -much had she been impelled by desire to save her<span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[83]</span> -lover from harm and how much by the determination -to help the slave to liberty? He wished he -knew, so that he might judge just how deeply and -how permanently her renewed abhorrence of slavery -had taken root. He knew that if she went -into the Underground work he could depend upon -her to be loyal, capable and discreet, but he drew -back from asking her to take part in it unless she -could do so whole-heartedly with conviction as -intense as his own.</p> - -<p>“Perhaps, then, you saved his life,” he said -quietly, and then went on with a deeper significance -in his tone, “as well as got for the slave his freedom, -which is more than life to him.”</p> - -<p>“Father, I want to do something!” she broke -out suddenly. “Is there anything a girl can do? -I know now that I can’t marry Mr. Delavan—I—I -love him—and if he wasn’t a slaveholder I’d -be glad to be his wife—and I know I’d be happy. -But I couldn’t—I just couldn’t feel myself responsible -the least bit for those poor creatures being -slaves. It’s wrong, father, it’s all wrong, and -horrible, and I won’t have anything to do with it. -I tried to think I could, for a while, because I love -Jeff so much and I wanted so to be his wife. But -this awful slavery would be between us all the -time—and I hate it, father, I hate it as much as -you do, and I want to do something to help put -it down!”</p> - -<p>He looked at her with surprise, triumphant<span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[84]</span> -rejoicing in his heart. This was a different Rhoda -from any he had known. She sat still and spoke -quietly, but he saw that her hands were clenched -and in her low voice vibrated passionate earnestness.</p> - -<p>The black face of the housemaid appeared at -the door. “What is it, Lizzie?” he questioned.</p> - -<p>“A letter, sah, a big, fat letter, fo’ Miss Rhoda. -A boy brought it, jess now.”</p> - -<p>Rhoda tore open the envelope, curiosity getting -the better, for a moment, of the feeling that had -just burst through all her usual barriers of restraint. -“It’s the papers freeing that slave!” she -cried. “It was good of Jeff to do this, wasn’t it, -father?”</p> - -<p>Together they glanced through the document. -“I’m so glad I held out,” she exclaimed. “How -happy that poor man will be when he sees this!”</p> - -<p>“You see, Rhoda, you’ve done something already!”</p> - -<p>“Yes, and I want to do more. Father, you do -something—I don’t know what—but I know you -work as well as talk. Can’t I help?”</p> - -<p>She had never seen him look at her with such -pride and gratification. Her heart leaped in response -and she flushed with gladness.</p> - -<p>“Yes, Rhoda, you can—I need your help. For -years I’ve given to the anti-slavery cause all I -could afford in money—mainly for the work of -the Underground Railroad. But I couldn’t do<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[85]</span> -much in any other way because your mother’s -sympathies are with the South. Now the time has -come when they need my help as an actual worker. -You know Jim Conners’ house, not far from the -steamboat landing. For a long time that has -been the first station on the Underground Road, -for all the slaves who get across the river in this -vicinity. But Conners is going to Kansas soon -and, besides, he is under such suspicion and the -slave hunters are watching his place so closely that -it’s no longer safe. Why, this man,” and he -tapped the document, “was nearly caught there -this morning. He got away by the skin of his -teeth, in a dress and bonnet of Mrs. Conners’, and -the marshal and his men had been close at his heels -all the morning, when you came to his rescue!”</p> - -<p>“Then you knew about him already!”</p> - -<p>“Yes. That is, I knew of his narrow escape -this morning, and knew he belonged to Delavan. -Well, you see, there’s got to be a new refuge provided -for them here in town, not too far from the -river. For many reasons our house is the best -place possible. If you help me I think I can manage -it, with the aid of Jim and Lizzie, and your -mother and Charlotte need know nothing about -it.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll be glad to help you, father, glad to do anything -I can, and it will be fine to know that we’re -getting even a few poor creatures out of slavery. -But, father, will it ever really amount to anything?”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[86]</span> -She looked up at him anxiously. “Will -it ever help to tear out the whole wicked system?”</p> - -<p>He glanced at her with approval. “I’m glad -you take that view of it, Rhoda. I’ll answer your -question in a minute. By means of the Underground -Road many thousands of slaves have been -enabled to throw away their chains. Levi Coffin, -in Cincinnati—you remember we were at their -house—has been engaged in this work for years -and himself has sent nearly three thousand runaways -on to Canada and freedom. The southerners -hate him bitterly and because of his activity -they call him ‘President of the Underground -Road.’ There is no president, no organization -of any sort, nothing but coöperation between those -who live near together. I speak of it to show you -how the work angers the slaveholders. They -got the Fugitive Slave Law passed six years ago -to try to stop it, and they are furious because it -has since flourished more than ever.</p> - -<p>“Now, I’m coming to the point. As I told -you just now, I believe that nothing but war can -solve this problem. It doesn’t matter which side -begins it, just so the fight comes. If the North -won’t do it because of the South’s insults, then we -must make the South strike the first blow. She -must be irritated to the limit of endurance, and -this Underground work seems to me the most -efficient way of doing it. That’s chiefly why I’m -in it, Rhoda. It’s something, of course, to help<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[87]</span> -individual slaves on to liberty, but I’m looking for -the big result. And I’ll be very glad to have your -help, so that I can begin to do something a little -more worth while. I’ve been waiting anxiously -for you to make up your mind about young -Delavan, for the situation here is important.”</p> - -<p>She looked at him with wide eyes, her breath -coming fast. “And you never said a word to me -about it!”</p> - -<p>He got up and took a turn or two across the -room. “Of course not. It was necessary for -you to fight the question out for yourself.”</p> - -<p>They heard Mrs. Ware’s voice on the veranda, -softly calling Rhoda. The girl rose and started -toward the door, but stopped beside him.</p> - -<p>“I’ll help you, father.” Her head was held -high, her figure was erect and her young countenance -was almost solemn in its earnestness. -Half consciously she put out her hand. Instantly -her father gripped it and they stood like two men -pledging faith. It was the nearest they had ever -come to mutual expression of sentiment. Again -they heard Mrs. Ware’s voice, nearing the door, -and Rhoda, calling out, “I’m coming, mother,” -dropped her father’s hand and rushed from the -room before self-consciousness had time to mar -their moment of high resolve and close communion.</p> - -<p>Dr. Ware gazed after her thoughtfully as he -sank into his desk chair. “Heredity was bound -to tell, sooner or later,” he said to himself, “and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[88]</span> -she’s got her full share of the New England -conscience. How that Puritan conscience does -flourish in the blood of us New Englanders, wherever -we go! In its original form I reckon it was -too strong a dose for the best results—a saturated -solution, it was then. But now it’s diluted enough -to be a first-rate general preservative of morals.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Ware drew Rhoda to her side with an arm -about her waist. “Jeff is here,” she whispered. -“He’s waiting for you on the front veranda. Go -up to your room by the back stairs, honey, and put -on your pink dress. It’s very becoming.”</p> - -<p>When presently Rhoda came slowly downstairs -again and through the hall to the front door she -heard her mother saying to Jefferson Delavan, on -the veranda:</p> - -<p>“Rhoda has some absurd, fanatical ideas about -slavery that she has got from her father, Jeff, but -I think you can hope for the answer you want. -And you know, my dear boy, how much I want you -to have it! I talked with her this morning—oh, -here she is now. Come, Rhoda, dear! Jeff is -waiting for you.”</p> - -<p>She passed into the house as Rhoda stepped out, -grave and hesitant and gave him her hand. He -held it in his while his eyes studied her face with -anxious inquiry.</p> - -<p>“Come,” he said, and led her down the steps -and into the path to the grape arbor. She looked -pale and a little weary, but her serious gray eyes<span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[89]</span> -were very bright and in her face still lingered a -touch of the exalted mood in which she had left -her father. She tried to withdraw her hand -from his but he would not let it go, and after a -moment she submitted to the firm clasp in which -it was held. Once she lifted her eyes to his, but -at once turned shyly away, as if she could not -endure the look of love and yearning she saw in -them.</p> - -<p>“Rhoda, you are like a wild rose, in that gown, -the sweetest of all roses.” He plucked a red rose, -the last one, from a bush they were passing, -touched it to his lips and handed it to her. “Last -week,” he said, “you gave me a rose for my -thoughts. Will you take this one for yours?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” she answered gravely, “yes, I will tell -you—I must be very frank with you.”</p> - -<p>They went into the arbor, where she sat down -on the bench and he stood before her, just as they -had done in the moonlight on that evening that -seemed now so long ago. The sun, drooping low, -sent level shafts of yellow light through the foliage, -which glowed darkly against the western brilliance. -They fell upon her fair hair and made -round her head a sort of aureole. Out of this -background her pale face and shining eyes, still -illumined by the high thoughts which had lately -filled her mind, looked up to meet the adoration -which beamed in his countenance. Unconsciously -the love-light leaped into her own eyes in quick<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[90]</span> -response, and for an instant they gazed deep into -each other’s hearts. Then he bent toward her -with outstretched arms.</p> - -<p>“Rhoda!” he whispered. “You love me!”</p> - -<p>As if suddenly roused from a dream she drew -back, and with one hand warded him away. “I -can’t marry you, Jeff, I can’t marry you!” she exclaimed -in hurried tones.</p> - -<p>“But you love me, Rhoda,—I saw it in your -eyes! Don’t say you don’t!”</p> - -<p>She straightened up and, watching her eagerly, -he saw the effort with which she regained her self-control. -“Listen, Jeff. Sit down here on the bench -beside me, and I’ll try to tell you how it is. I—I -do love you—no, don’t take my hand—don’t touch -me—I’ve loved you all the time. When you went -away, last week, I knew I was going to tell you -‘yes,’ sometime, but I just wanted to make you -wait a while—” She flashed her sudden, irradiating -smile upon him and he started forward and -seized her hand. She drew it away and went on -hastily:</p> - -<p>“But I hadn’t thought then—I knew it of course, -but I hadn’t thought of it—I hadn’t thought of -anything but just you—about your owning slaves -and believing in slavery. And ever since I remembered -it I’ve been trying and trying to convince -myself that I wouldn’t mind, that I could make it -seem right—but it’s no use, Jeff. I can’t do it.”</p> - -<p>He looked at her, puzzled, vainly trying to understand<span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[91]</span> -her point of view. “But, Rhoda, I can’t -see what difference that makes. If you love me -and I love you—and heaven knows I do, dear -heart—I can’t see why a matter of opinion should -keep us apart. Look at your father and mother. -He is violently opposed to slavery and she still -believes in it, and yet they loved and were married -and have lived happily together. Why can’t we do -the same?”</p> - -<p>“But this is different. Mother just gave up -things she liked and the kind of life she enjoyed. -I could do that—oh, I’d love to do that, for you—for -any one I loved. But she didn’t have to become -part of something that she thought was wrong. I -can’t marry you, Jeff, because I know that slavery -is wrong, wicked, horrible, and I simply couldn’t -endure being part of it and having to uphold it.”</p> - -<p>He rose and walked back and forth in front of -her. “This is your father’s influence,” he said -resentfully. “He told me that he would use it -against me.”</p> - -<p>“No, you must not blame father,” she responded -quickly. “He has said very little to me about it, -and he told me that it was something I must settle -with my own conscience. And mother has said -everything she could think of to persuade me. I’ve -worked it out myself, and I know that I can’t -marry you—but, oh, Jeff! I want to be your wife -more than anything in the world!”</p> - -<p>It was almost a glare with which he surveyed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[92]</span> -her as she uttered her last words. His hands, -hanging at his sides, were clinched. “Rhoda, this -is fanaticism gone mad!” he exclaimed.</p> - -<p>She rose and stood before him. “You will have -to call it whatever it seems to you. To me it is -the command of my conscience, and I’ve got to -obey it.”</p> - -<p>“Did that—incident—this morning have anything -to do with your decision?” he demanded.</p> - -<p>“Something, perhaps—no, I am sure I should -have seen things as I do now, anyway, after a -little. That only made me see the truth more -quickly and more clearly.”</p> - -<p>“The truth?” he queried. “You mean—”</p> - -<p>“I mean, it made me see that I could never regard -slavery as anything but wrong and monstrous -and criminal and that I could never, never make -myself a party to it.”</p> - -<p>“But, Rhoda, this is absurd. You’ve never -lived in the South and you don’t know anything -about it. You don’t know how necessary it is for -us down there and how well it works out!”</p> - -<p>“I don’t have to live there to know that it is a -wicked thing to buy and sell human beings as -though they were horses or pigs. But it’s no use -to argue about it, Jeff. You believe in it and I -don’t—I hate it, I hate it! And I wish I could -tear it down, myself, and destroy it forever!”</p> - -<p>Her head was high, her eyes glowing and her -voice, low almost as a whisper, thrilled with passionate<span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[93]</span> -conviction. His eyes yearned over her for -a moment and then, “Rhoda! Rhoda Ware!” he -exclaimed. “You must be mine! I shall not give -you up because of this foolish notion of yours!”</p> - -<p>She drew back and as she spoke she made evident -but unavailing effort to keep all feeling out -of her voice. “It’s no use for us to talk any more -about it, Jeff. My mind is made up, and I’ve told -you I can’t marry you. It only makes us the more -unhappy to keep on talking about it. I think we’d -better consider that it’s ended now, for good.”</p> - -<p>“No!” he exclaimed. “It isn’t ended! As long -as you love me I’ll not give you up! I’ll go now, -but some day I’m coming back, and I’ll win you -yet, Rhoda Ware!” He seized her hand in both -of his and held it against his heart. Taken aback -by his sudden outburst she did not try to withdraw -it, but let him press his lips twice and thrice upon -it. Then, without another word, he strode out of -the arbor, down the path, and was gone.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[94]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER VIII</h2> -</div> - -<p>Dr. Ware noiselessly closed the door of his -wife’s bedroom and walked softly downstairs. -“Can we have supper at once, Rhoda?” he inquired -of his daughter at the door of the dining-room. -“Good! I’m called over to the other side of town -and I want to get away as quickly as possible. -It’s likely I’ll have to stay most of the night—maybe -until morning. Are you intending to go to -the party to-night?”</p> - -<p>“I was, father, but if you’re going to be away -I’d better stay with mother. How is she to-night?”</p> - -<p>“It’s the worst attack of sick headache she’s had -in a long time. But I hope she will soon be able -to go to sleep, and if she sleeps well all night she -will be much better to-morrow. She doesn’t want -anything now, but you might look in very quietly -after a little and see if she is asleep. Do you mind -missing the party?”</p> - -<p>“No, not at all, father. But Charlotte—” she -looked uncertainly across the table at her sister. -“Do you think Charlotte better go without me?”</p> - -<p>“Of course you do, don’t you, father?” Charlotte -promptly interrupted, with a coquettish look -at Dr. Ware, to which he responded with a fond<span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[95]</span> -smile. “Isn’t Horace Hardaker a good enough -chaperon for anybody?” she went on.</p> - -<p>“Horace Hardaker!” her father exclaimed in -surprise. “What’s become of Billy Saunders? -Have you quarreled?”</p> - -<p>“No—he hasn’t. He was impertinent this -afternoon—wanted to kiss me, and I told him he -shouldn’t speak to me for a month. So I asked -Rhoda if I couldn’t go with her and Horace.”</p> - -<p>Dr. Ware laughed indulgently. “Horace will -take good care of her, Rhoda. It’s all right for -her to go with him. But I’m surprised, Charlotte,” -he went on, frowning at her with mock -seriousness, “that a young lady of your convictions -should be willing to go to a party with a Black -Abolitionist!”</p> - -<p>“Aren’t you afraid to let him go with me, -father?” she mocked in reply, her eyes dancing. -“Suppose I should convert him to slavery before -we get back, and make him promise to vote for -Buchanan!”</p> - -<p>“You minx!” he said fondly, as he stopped to -give her hair a rumpling caress. Then with altered -manner he turned to Rhoda with some directions -for her mother’s comfort and messages for certain -patients if they should call during the evening.</p> - -<p>The making of Charlotte’s toilette, at which -Rhoda assisted, was enlivened by much gaiety of -spirit on the part of the younger sister. Charlotte -had put aside the teasing humor in which she so<span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[96]</span> -often indulged and was more affectionate than -usual. Rhoda warmed to her in response and was -delightedly absorbed in helping to deck her for -the evening’s merrymaking. They laughed softly -together at her little flashes of fun, which were so -frequent that finally Rhoda exclaimed, smiling -down upon her fondly: “You’re hatching up some -mischief, sister, aren’t you?”</p> - -<p>Charlotte giggled. “Oh, I’m just thinking how -I’ll punish Billy Saunders!”</p> - -<p>“And make him want to kiss you more than -ever!” warned Rhoda gaily.</p> - -<p>“He shan’t, all the same!” Charlotte laughed -over her shoulder as she tilted out of the room.</p> - -<p>From the veranda steps Rhoda bade Charlotte -and Horace Hardaker good-night, and as they -passed down the broad front walk between the lilac -hedges called out gay nothings after them and -laughed at her sister’s saucy rejoinders. When -they disappeared down the street she went back -into the house, softly humming to herself, for the -merriment still stirred in her heart. She peeped -into her mother’s bedroom and smiled with gratification -as she saw that the invalid was at last sleeping -soundly. Then she made a trip to the kitchen -to give Lizzie directions concerning breakfast and -afterward sat down in the living-room for a quiet -hour or two of reading.</p> - -<p>It was in the early days of October, and the -presidential campaign of 1856 was at its height.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[97]</span> -Mighty waves of political enthusiasm were sweeping -the country and stirring it to its depths, as -it had never before been stirred. The youthful -Republican party was already showing a marvelous -growth. From the South were coming open -threats of secession in case Frémont should be -elected.</p> - -<p>Rhoda was intensely interested and under the -guidance of her father was eagerly following the -progress of the campaign. She sat down now with -a little pile of its literature on the table beside her -and took up first a pamphlet containing George -William Curtis’s oration on “The Duty of the -American Scholar to Politics and the Times.” The -quiet, intense conviction which glowed through its -polished phrases set her pulses to throbbing. She -read it through rapidly once, then went back and -studied carefully the arguments, breathing high -aspirations and noble ideals, by which he advanced -to the conclusion that the prime duty of the scholar -in that crisis was to work to his utmost for the -election of Frémont.</p> - -<p>She knew that the oration was being read by -scores upon scores of thousands, for her father had -told her of its enormous circulation and of its -effect upon thinking people throughout the North. -Her hand trembled as she laid it down and went -out upon the veranda. She tried to form in her -mind some idea of all those masses of people -moved as she was feeling herself moved at that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[98]</span> -moment by the orator’s inspiring sentences and -stirred as she was stirred by the desire to go forth -as to a crusade and with mind and heart and -hand work for the success of the party that would -put an end to the extension of slavery.</p> - -<p>“Oh, he will surely be elected—he must be -elected!” she whispered, nervously clasping her -hands. Then she wondered, if Frémont should -be successful, would there follow secession and -war—the war which her father believed to be the -only means for the cutting of the Gordian knot -into which North and South had tangled themselves. -And then came quickly apprehensive -thought of that ardent and determined lover, on -the other side of the fateful river. She shivered -a little and told herself that the nights were already -growing much cooler. Presently she would -go upstairs, she thought, and, perhaps, she would -read again the letter that had come two days before -from Jefferson Delavan.</p> - -<p>She went back to her reading and looked through -some recent newspapers. In the New York -“Times” she read an account of a great meeting in -Wall Street, where, from the steps of the Merchants’ -Exchange, Speaker Banks, of the House of -Representatives, had addressed a mighty assemblage -of twenty thousand earnest men. In Pittsburg -had been held a monster mass-meeting of a hundred -thousand. Everywhere there had been meetings,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[99]</span> -speeches, torchlight processions, bands, cheers, enthusiasm.</p> - -<p>Rhoda had herself joined in that staccato cry of -the campaign, “Free speech, free soil and Frémont!” -only a few nights before when she and -Marcia Kimball and Mrs. Hardaker and others -of her friends had leaned from the windows of -Horace Hardaker’s office and with waving handkerchiefs -and responding cheers had added to the -enthusiasm of the Republican procession sweeping -down the street. Her father, heading one division -and Horace leading another, had saluted them with -waving torches and louder cheers. Her mother -and sister had stayed at home that night and -neither of them, by word or look, had shown afterwards -that they knew a torchlight procession had -taken place. But when the Democrats had had -their meeting and procession a week earlier Mrs. -Ware and Charlotte had gone under the escort of -Billy Saunders.</p> - -<p>With close attention she read too of the great -meetings that were being held all over the North, -and the money that was being donated by rich and -poor alike in aid of the free-soil settlers in Kansas. -Recently she had had a long letter from Julia -Hammerton, Horace’s sister, giving intimate account -of the perilous times through which they -were passing and of the riot and pillage and -bloodshed which ravished the border. Her anxiety -for her friend doubled the interest with which she<span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[100]</span> -perused the reports from Lawrence and Topeka. -She exclaimed with horror every now and then, -and at last with head bowed upon her clasped -hands she whispered: “Oh, God in heaven, grant -the election of Frémont, and stop all this, I pray, -I pray!”</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_100.jpg" alt=""></div> -<p class="caption">“Inside were a withered rose and a letter.”</p> - -<p>She sat musing for a while upon what she had -read, but her thoughts would wander to the grapevine -arbor, and again and again across the ardent -longings for the success of the Republican cause -which filled her mind would come the image of -Jefferson Delavan as he held her hand to his heart -and declared, “I shall win you yet, Rhoda Ware!”</p> - -<p>A deep flush dyed her cheeks and muttering, -“Dear God, forgive me, that I cannot help thinking -of him even at such a time!” she rose and folded -the papers. Then she carefully put them away -in her father’s office; for Charlotte did not hesitate, -if she came across such publications in any -other part of the house and happened to be in an -audacious mood, to put them with laughing defiance -into the fire.</p> - -<p>In her room she moved about restlessly, going -now and again toward her bureau, then turning -away. At last she opened one of the drawers and -from one corner hidden away under ribbons and -handkerchiefs, took a small box tied with a white -ribbon. For some moments she clasped it tenderly -in both hands, her eyes fixed on the floor. Then, -as she sank into a chair, the barriers of her will<span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[101]</span> -gave way and with trembling fingers she took off -the cover.</p> - -<p>Inside were a withered rose and a letter. She -kissed the rose and caressed it in her palm and -held it against her cheek—had not he held it to -his lips that day in the arbor when she told him -she would not marry him? Then she unfolded -the letter and read again its brief sentences. Already -she knew them, every word, for in the two -days since she received it her traitor heart had -sent her, against her will, to read it many times. -It was dated in Cincinnati, where, he said, he was -likely to remain several days more, but before -returning home he intended to go on up the river -to Hillside, where he hoped to have the pleasure -of calling again upon Mrs. Ware and herself. -It was written in courteous, formal phrase, and -Rhoda’s eyes studied the lines as though searching -for some hidden expression of the love that she -knew was behind them.</p> - -<p>“Ought I to write and tell him he’d better not -come?” she asked herself, as she had done a dozen -times already, but still unable to decide that she -would request him not to make the visit. Her -heart was longing to see him again, but what she -said to herself was, “It would be a disappointment -to mother if he should not come.”</p> - -<p>Oh, traitor heart, that with its insidious desires -undermines the defenses of the will and levels to -the dust the walls of human determination! If<span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[102]</span> -wishfulness stand within the gate when temptation -knocks outside it is only the sternest “no,” to -both of them, over and over again, resolute and -unchanging and giving way not so much as a hair’s -breadth, that can save the day. If man’s desires -always squared with his knowledge of the right -perhaps the world would be a cleaner and a sweeter -place to live in. But it would lack the inspiring -savor of that grim struggle between them, as old -as the race, by which humankind has mounted a -few of the steps toward heaven. Man’s inability -to say “no” to himself, stoutly and often, is responsible -for more of his ills than is all “man’s -inhumanity to man.” And to dally with desire, -to argue with the traitor within the gates, to listen -for a moment to his specious pleading, is to make -it ever harder and harder to utter the one blunt -word that alone brings peace.</p> - -<p>Doubtless Rhoda did not know, for she was not -much given to introspection, that if she did not -come to quick and sharp conclusions with the insurgent -within her own breast she was but lengthening -the conflict and making it the more difficult -to stand to the line she had set. She was quite sure -of her determination that she would not marry -Jefferson Delavan and she would have been amazed -and incredulous had any one told her that even by -this yielding to her love in the privacy of her own -room and debating with herself as to whether or<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[103]</span> -not she should see him again she was throwing -doubt upon the issue.</p> - -<p>So she sat there fondling the withered rose, -which his lips had touched, and the letter, which his -hand had written, and thinking that it would do no -harm if he should come again, for they would meet -hereafter merely as friends. Surely they were both -strong enough to be just good friends, and to keep -hidden whatever might be in their hearts. They -were so congenial, they enjoyed each other’s society -so much, why shouldn’t they have the pleasure -of meeting now and then? And her mother was -so fond of him, it really would not be fair to her -to tell him that he must not visit them. Yes, it -would surely be for the best, and to-morrow she -would ask her mother to write and say they would -be glad to see him whenever he should come. Her -heart gave a little bound at this victory and her lips -unconsciously formed themselves into the tenderest -of smiling curves as she pressed them upon the -withered rose. Then she put the box carefully -away, blew out her candle and knelt beside the -open window.</p> - -<p>Her room was in the southeast corner of the -house, and the moon, dwindling past its half, -bounded up from behind the wooded hills and saw -upon her face the same tender look of smiling -happiness. Presently, upon the still night air came -the faint sound of cautious footsteps. She turned -her eyes, that had been brooding upon the star-filled<span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[104]</span> -sky while her spirit wandered in dream-filled -Elysian fields, downward to the earth. She could -dimly make out a woman’s figure coming up the -middle of the street.</p> - -<p>A lantern hung on one of the posts of the east -gate, beside her father’s sign. But it had now a -double purpose. Rhoda watched as the figure -came slowly on, stopped at the gate, glanced warily -about, and seemed to read the sign, “Dr. Amos -M. Ware.” By the dim light she could see that -the woman’s face was dark and that she held a -child by the hand. Instantly the girl’s spirit was -upon the earth again. With noiseless feet she -rushed downstairs, through her father’s office, and -out upon the veranda. The wanderer was climbing -the steps and looking doubtfully about, as if -uncertain what she ought to do next.</p> - -<p>“You’re in the right place,” said Rhoda assuringly, -speaking barely above a whisper. “I -am your friend—come in.”</p> - -<p>She hurried the woman into the office, pulled -down the shades and lighted a candle. Then she -saw that the fugitive, besides the child, perhaps -four or five years old, which she led by the hand, -carried a baby underneath her shawl. The girl -drew a swift breath that was almost a sob.</p> - -<p>“Oh!” she exclaimed, running to the woman and -putting her two hands gently upon her shoulders, -“Oh, you poor thing! You poor thing!”</p> - -<p>The room occupied by Jim and Lizzie, the two<span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[105]</span> -colored servants, was next to the office, at the -northeast corner of the house. Darting out on the -veranda again, Rhoda ran to their window and -rapped gently four times. In a few moments Jim -opened the door.</p> - -<p>“Tell Lizzie to get up,” she whispered. “A -poor woman with two children is here. I’ve got -them in the office now, but you’d better let me -bring them into your room as quickly as possible. -They must have some supper and a little rest, and -then we’ll decide what’s best to do.”</p> - -<p>Lizzie’s face appeared above Jim’s shoulder. -“All right, Miss Rhoda,” she was saying in subdued -but hearty accents, “you all kin come right -in—in two minutes.”</p> - -<p>The runaways were soon eating a supper of cold -meat and bread and milk, which Lizzie hurried -into the room. Rhoda nodded and smiled at her -and her husband.</p> - -<p>“Now,” she said coaxingly, “you and Jim will -let them have your bed a little while, won’t you? -Jim can go in the office and lie down on the lounge. -They must have some rest, for they ought to go on -to-night. It wouldn’t be safe to try to keep them -here to-morrow, for Charlotte would be sure to -discover the children. Father is not likely to get -back before morning—so I’ll drive them on to -Gilbertson’s. No, it’s all right”—as Jim made -a movement of protest. “Dolly is in the stable—you -can hitch her to the two-seated carriage.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[106]</span> -I’m not the least bit afraid, and it will be much -safer for me than you. Charlotte will be home -soon. We’d better not do anything more until -after she gets in and goes to sleep. But we ought -to start in about three hours. Have the carriage -ready, Jim, and I’ll be down. Now, you poor -thing, you and these babies must lie down and -get some sleep.”</p> - -<p>When they were ready to start, Rhoda put the -child, still asleep, into a nest of rugs on the carriage -floor. The woman, with the baby hugged -to her breast, she took on the front seat. “If we -should happen to meet any one,” she said, “they’d -take less notice if we were sitting together sociably -like this. If you see father when he comes home, -Jim, tell him where I’ve gone. And, Lizzie, you’ll -be sure to look out for mother as soon as she -wakens in the morning, won’t you? If she asks -for me tell her I’ve gone on an errand for father.”</p> - -<p>The street, going on northward, passed a few -more houses and then became a country road. -The Ware house stood on the top of a long, gentle -rise from the river. From the summit the road -dipped down into a shallow valley, then mounted -another longer and steeper ascent, whence it passed -into a region partly wooded and partly filled with -farms.</p> - -<p>They drove on without speaking until they had -passed the last of the houses. Rhoda’s thoughts -were busy with the woman beside her, wondering<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[107]</span> -what awful pressure of desperation had sent her, -with these little ones clinging to her hands, upon -the perilous road toward freedom. The fugitive -was a good-looking young mulatto, not much older -than herself. In her speech and manner Rhoda -had already noted the lack of a certain suppressed -fire which she had seen in some of the refugees, -and especially in the slave whose emancipation -papers she had won from Jefferson Delavan. In -this one there was instead a patient, pleading -resignation which seemed to her eloquent of the -wrongs of the helpless race. It appealed to her -from the big, mournful eyes of the child when, -mutely trustful, he let her take him from his -mother’s arm and lay him upon the bed. It was -tugging mightily at her heartstrings as they drove -down the dim road, her eyes on the faint track that -gradually opened out of the darkness. Her heart -was all one sweet compassion and brooding tenderness. -But she did not speak until they were well -past the last house of the town and beyond chance -of any wakeful ear.</p> - -<p>“Have you come very far? Has it been hard?” -she asked in subdued tones.</p> - -<p>“Yes, miss, it’s seemed a long way.” The -woman used good English, and her gentle manner -showed that she must have been well trained. “But -I reckon it wasn’t really so far. It’s just a week -ago to-night that I took out. We’ve had to hide -in the daytime and walk at night, mostly. Once<span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[108]</span> -a man met us and hid us in a wagon under some -hay and took us right far. Sometimes I had to -carry both the children and then I couldn’t come -so fast. Andy was right good for such a little -fellow. He’d run most all the time. I told him -we were going to see his pappy and he’s been expecting -to find him every time we stop.”</p> - -<p>“Your husband has got away, then? Is he in -Canada?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, miss. He took out last June.”</p> - -<p>“Did they follow you? Were you afraid of -being caught and taken back?”</p> - -<p>“Eleven of us left at the same time, from three -plantations. We kept together the first night, -and then we divided. I wanted to come the same -way my husband had. The man who came down -there and told us how to go and what to do said it -would be safer for us to divide, and he said that if -I thought I could make the trip alone it would be -better for me, because they wouldn’t think I’d -leave the others. He told me not to be afraid, so -I wasn’t.”</p> - -<p>The quick tears sprang to Rhoda’s eyes at -thought of this childlike trust and simple steadfastness. -“Do you know who the man was?” she -asked.</p> - -<p>“No, miss, I don’t know his name. He was a -young man and so kind looking you knew right -away that you could trust him. He came out -from Lexington about two weeks ago and we all<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[109]</span> -thought he was just after birds. He wanted to -get bird skins and he paid some of the children -who could catch birds in snares, so the skins would -be whole. But after a day or two word was -whispered round that he wanted to see the slaves -who would like to be free.”</p> - -<p>Rhoda nodded. “Yes, I know him! He was -here only a month ago, getting names of people -who would help the runaway slaves and what they -would do for them. He was at our house and -went right on down into Kentucky to let the slaves -know how they can escape from slavery. His -name is Alexander Wilson.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, miss. I didn’t hear his name. I’d been -powerful anxious to get away ever since my husband -took out, so I went to the meeting, in our -preacher’s house. The man had seen Andrew, -my husband, in Canada, and he had sent me some -money and word to follow him as soon as I could. -Oh, miss, he’s free now, and he’s earning money, -his own money, and making a home for us!”</p> - -<p>For the first time in the woman’s simple narrative -the note of deep feeling broke through her -tone and manner of settled, mournful resignation. -The childlike wonder in her voice as she uttered -her last sentence touched her listener deeply.</p> - -<p>“There are no slaves in Canada,” Rhoda said -gently. “You’ll be free too and perfectly safe -when you get there. What made you and your<span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[110]</span> -husband dissatisfied in the first place?” she continued. -“Did you have a hard master?”</p> - -<p>“No, miss, he’s a right kind man to his slaves, -better than his sister. She’ll be married some day, -and we all thought the slaves might be divided -then and maybe some of us sold down south.” She -was silent for a moment, a suspended accent in her -voice, and Rhoda waited. “Master was always -right good to Andrew. There was a reason—” -She checked herself, as if some innate delicacy prevented -her from saying more, and went on: “But -Miss Emily would have sold him if she could. -She didn’t like him.”</p> - -<p>“Miss Emily!” Rhoda exclaimed, a catch in -her breath.</p> - -<p>“Yes, miss, master’s sister, who has a share in -the slaves and everything. But Andrew’s free -now! He can’t be sold now!” Her voice was -full of happy satisfaction.</p> - -<p>“But you’ll soon be in Canada, and then you’ll -be free too, just as free as he is,” Rhoda told her -assuringly, thinking that the slave woman had not -yet realized the freedom to which she was fleeing. -The girl spoke calmly and compassionately, but at -her heart there was a quick throbbing.</p> - -<p>“I mean he’s surely free, miss! He’s got his -free papers! Master followed him and most -caught him, the man told me, and a young lady hid -him in a cave. Master Jeff came and she persuaded -him to give Andrew his free papers. Oh,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[111]</span> -miss! I wish I could see that young lady!” At -last the refugee’s feeling had broken through her -manner of subdued and patient resignation. Her -voice was trembling with eagerness and in the -moonlight Rhoda could see the tears rolling down -her cheeks. “I’d do anything for her, anything!”</p> - -<p>A lump swelled in Rhoda’s throat. She leaned -forward to tap her horse to a faster pace along a -level stretch of road, then lifted her eyes to the sky -and whispered, “O God, I thank thee!”</p> - -<p>“What is your name?” she queried as she leaned -back again.</p> - -<p>“My name is Lina, miss,—Carolina, but I’m -always called just Lina. My husband’s name is -Andrew Delavan. We took master’s name.”</p> - -<p>“Andrew is doing well in Canada, I think you -said?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, miss. He’s got some land and he’s building -a log house for us. It will be our own!”</p> - -<p>“Well, Lina, I want you—can you write?—after -you get there I want you to write a letter to me—I’ll -write down my name and address for you—and -tell me about your home and whether or not -you and Andrew like being free. I think perhaps -I know that young lady you spoke of and I’ll show -her your letter. It will give her more pleasure -than anything else you could do.”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[112]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER IX</h2> -</div> - -<p>It was still early the next day when Horace -Hardaker appeared at Dr. Ware’s east gate and -looked anxiously around for signs of life. After -a little he saw Jim at work in the stable and hurried -thither.</p> - -<p>“Good morning, Jim! Is the doctor at -home?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, sah, I s’pose he is, though I hain’t seen -him. I reckon he’s heah, sah, for heah’s Prince -and the buggy he used last night. Do you want -to see him, sah?”</p> - -<p>“Yes—no, that is—I reckon he didn’t get in -until pretty late?”</p> - -<p>“I reckon you all are right, sah! I reckon it -must a’ been pow’r’ful late!”</p> - -<p>“Then don’t disturb him now. I’ll see him -later in the day.” Hardaker turned and walked -a few steps, as if going away, his head bent and -his eyebrows wrinkled, then hesitated and came -slowly back. “Miss Rhoda—is she around anywhere?”</p> - -<p>Jim came close and in low tones told briefly the -happening of the night before. “Miss Rhoda, -she hain’t got back yet and I’se begun to feel -anxious about her.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[113]</span>“She probably waited at Gilbertson’s until -morning, and then stopped for breakfast. I dare -say she’s all right, but if you’ll saddle up Prince -for me I’ll ride out that way and make sure.”</p> - -<p>Trotting along on the road toward Gilbertson’s -Horace Hardaker seemed to be uneasy of mind. -His brows were wrinkled, his lips pressed together, -and every now and then he made an impatient -exclamation. He was a young man, still under -thirty, but he had already acquired a good law -practice and was becoming noted throughout his -own and adjoining countries for his success in -jury trials. His sandy complexion, bright blue -eyes and the round, boyish contour of his cheeks -made him look even younger than he was. Countenance -and expression both indicated the emotional -temperament that was at the bottom of -his success in jury pleading. It rarely needed -more than three sentences of an address to the -twelve peers in the box to sweep him into the full -tide of ardent conviction of the merits of his case. -Whatever may have been his secret thought about -his client before, Hardaker always believed in -him enthusiastically by the time he had been talking -five minutes. Moreover, he was able, with -remarkable frequency, to make the jurymen believe -in him too.</p> - -<p>Just now he was asking himself, “Shall I tell -her about it?” and the perturbation which the -problem caused him was evident in his countenance.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[114]</span> -An uneasy shifting in his saddle and a -shake of his head showed that the telling, whatever -it might be, would be an ordeal from which -he shrank.</p> - -<p>“But I’d as soon tell her as the doctor,” his -thoughts went doubtfully on, “and I don’t know -but it would do more good. Hang me if I don’t -need advice from somewhere inside the family!” -Another irritated exclamation broke from his -lips. But the impatience and anxiety of his manner -abated somewhat as he went on considering -whether or not he should confide his trouble to the -absent Rhoda.</p> - -<p>“She’s got so much good sense,” he told himself, -“and she understands about things better -than most girls do, and there’s no nonsense about -her. She knows how to be a good friend too—I -reckon she and the doctor are the best friends -I’ve got, even if she won’t marry me—and that -makes it all the worse!” he exclaimed, looking -as if there were a bad taste in his mouth.</p> - -<p>As he crossed the top of one hill he saw Rhoda -driving down the long slope of the next. With -a flourish of her carriage whip she responded to -his hat-waving salute.</p> - -<p>“Let me hitch Prince on behind and get in and -drive you back,” he said, as they met at the bottom -of the hill. “So you had some U. G. baggage to -deliver last night?” he continued, as he jumped in -and took the lines from her hands.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[115]</span>She flashed a smile at him. “Yes, a trunk and -two handbags. And oh, Horace, they were the -wife and children of the man to whom Mr. -Delavan gave his freedom last June! I do hope -they’ll get to him safely!”</p> - -<p>He remained silent, as he usually did if she -spoke in his presence of Delavan. So she turned -at once to another subject.</p> - -<p>“How did the party go off last night? I didn’t -see Charlotte when she came home, so I don’t -know anything about it yet. Did you have a -good time?”</p> - -<p>“The party? Oh, yes, it was pleasant. Everybody -seemed to enjoy themselves.”</p> - -<p>She cast a side glance at him. He was looking -fixedly ahead and his expression seemed to indicate -lack of interest in the social function to which -he had escorted Charlotte. She tried another -tack:</p> - -<p>“I spent the evening reading speeches. You’ve -read George William Curtis’s oration, haven’t -you?” He warmed up at this, with a look of -relief, and they plunged at once into a discussion -of the speech, comparing ideas upon it, and telling -each other bits of news they had heard about its -influence and about the progress of the campaign.</p> - -<p>“When the state elections are held next week, -in Ohio, Indiana and Pennsylvania,” said Hardaker, -“we’ll have a good indication of how things -will go in November. The side that gets Pennsylvania<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[116]</span> -will be pretty sure to win. I hope we’ll -carry it, but between you and me, Rhoda, I don’t -like the look of things over there. They’re stealing -our thunder. They’re yelling ‘Buck and -Breck and Free Kansas’ all over the state. And -Kansas has about as much chance of becoming free -if Buchanan is elected as—Prince has of flying.”</p> - -<p>“Has Julia said anything in her letters to you -about John Brown and what the free-state people -in Kansas think about him? You know the others -accuse him of most awful murders.”</p> - -<p>“War is always murder, and it doesn’t pretend -to be anything else,” he responded with energy. -“The Buchaneers have been doing some atrocious -lying about him and about everything else out -there. According to them it’s war when the -border ruffians drive the free-state settlers out of -their homes and murder when Brown or anybody -else helps to defend the settlers from their attacks. -No, Julia hasn’t said anything particular about -him, but my opinion is that at the greatest risk to -his own life he’s helping to save Kansas from the -grip of the slave power.”</p> - -<p>“Father believes in him,” said Rhoda thoughtfully. -“He knew John Brown here in Ohio, before -he went to Kansas and he says there is nobody -more devoted to the anti-slavery cause, or more -enthusiastic and unselfish. Charlotte was trying -to argue with me yesterday and telling me a lot of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[117]</span> -stuff she had got from Billy Saunders about him. -But I never take Charlotte seriously.”</p> - -<p>“Charlotte is very different from you,” said -Hardaker, gloomily.</p> - -<p>“She’s different from all of us, except that I -think she must be like what mother was at her age, -only more—more of a mischief. The truth is, -Charlotte is dreadfully spoiled. We all spoil her, -and no matter what she does we laugh and say, -‘O, it’s just Charlotte!’—except mother, and -mother takes her too seriously, and that just makes -her try to be more provoking. She had it in for -Billy last night. Did she make him wish he’d -never been born?”</p> - -<p>“She didn’t stop with Billy!” Hardaker exclaimed, -shutting his jaws with a snap.</p> - -<p>His companion laughed. “Did she visit her -displeasure on you too? She made a sort of half -threat at supper about making you promise to vote -for Buchanan. I wonder if she did!” Rhoda -teased, her face rippling with smiles.</p> - -<p>Horace looked full into her laughing face, then -turned his eyes suddenly to the front. “Hang it -all, Rhoda,” he broke out, “I must tell you about -it, though I’m afraid you’ll despise me afterward. -The truth is,—I suppose—I’m engaged to Charlotte!”</p> - -<p>“What! You!” she ejaculated, her eyes wide -with amazement.</p> - -<p>“Yes—I suppose so—something of the sort.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[118]</span> -Anyway, I made love to her”—his face was a deep -rose color and his eyes downcast—“pretty violent -love, I guess—at least I felt that way—and—well, -the upshot was that I suppose Charlotte considers -that we’re engaged. Oh, I know what you’ll think -of me, but I can’t help it now. I’ll just stand up -and take my medicine.”</p> - -<p>As Rhoda listened, varying expressions flitted -across her face. Once, when Hardaker stole a -sidewise glance at her he saw there the stern look -her father wore when deeply displeased, and his -heart sank. But he went on stoutly. As he finished -her lips were twitching, then the corners of her -mouth went up, and she laughed aloud. At the -sound of her merriment he looked relieved, and -laughed a little too, though in a shamefaced way.</p> - -<p>“Forgive me, Horace!” Rhoda gasped. “Don’t -think me unsympathetic—but it was so like Charlotte!” -And she broke into another peal of -laughter.</p> - -<p>“I don’t quite know what made me do it!” he -pursued. “Charlotte is a pretty girl, and good -company, and I like her well enough, but—you’ll -excuse me, Rhoda—I don’t exactly approve of her, -and heaven knows I don’t want to marry her. -That is, I don’t this morning, in cold blood. Last -night—well, last night, I felt different.”</p> - -<p>“Exactly!” agreed Rhoda. “I understand. -Charlotte usually can make a man ‘feel different’<span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[119]</span> -when she tries. And I guess she must have tried -real hard last night!”</p> - -<p>“But that’s no excuse for me acting the fool,” -Hardaker responded gloomily. “And that’s just -what I did, Rhoda—egregious fool, consummate -fool, and every other kind of a fool you can think -of. Do you think she’ll want to hold me to it?”</p> - -<p>Rhoda smiled and shook her head. “No, Horace, -I don’t. At least, not for very long. She -was probably flirting with you just to add to Billy’s -punishment. All she’ll want will be to get her -own little fun out of it.”</p> - -<p>Hardaker brightened up. “She—she wouldn’t -let me kiss her! So I reckon she wasn’t in earnest.”</p> - -<p>Rhoda laughed again. “Don’t feel worried -about it any more, Horace! It will all blow over -in a week.”</p> - -<p>He looked at her gratefully. As she met his -eyes she saw more in them than gratitude. “Rhoda, -you’re the best girl out! I wish—”</p> - -<p>She checked him with a warning hand. “Never -mind about that, Horace. Just start Prince up a -little faster, for I must get home.”</p> - -<p>At that moment they came out upon the top of -the hill. Below them lay the town, its bowering -foliage dashed here and there, like an artist’s -palette, with splotches of brilliant color. Winding -between hills and fields, the noble river flashed -back the morning sun. Involuntarily Hardaker -checked the horse, exclaiming, as two river packets<span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[120]</span> -came sweeping around a bend below the town. -One of them was three or four lengths ahead of -the other.</p> - -<p>“They’re racing, Rhoda! Just look at their -speed!”</p> - -<p>“Oh, Horace! See the flames coming out of -their smoke stacks!”</p> - -<p>“I reckon the firemen are just shoveling in the -resin, along with the coal, this time!”</p> - -<p>“The one ahead is the ‘Ohio Beauty,’ isn’t -she?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, and the other’s the ‘Northern Belle.’ -Those two race every chance they get. The -‘Belle’ is trying to get ahead and beat the -‘Beauty’ to the landing, so as to capture all this -morning’s business. Look, Rhoda! You can -see them turning on the hose around the smoke -stacks, to keep the decks from taking fire!”</p> - -<p>Both the steamboats were tooting their whistles -and ringing their bells, the shrill sounds of the one -eased a little by the sweet notes of the other. -Across the clamor broke faintly the music of the -bands stationed on their decks. Horace and Rhoda -could see the people on each boat waving hats and -handkerchiefs at the other.</p> - -<p>“See the ‘Belle’ spurt ahead! She’ll get there -first yet if the ‘Beauty’ can’t get up a little more -steam!”</p> - -<p>“And she is! Oh, Horace, see how the flames -are pouring from her chimneys!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[121]</span>Then, suddenly, the “Beauty” seemed to leap -from the water, there was a low, booming roar, -and out of a burst of flames and smoke her fragments -were scattered upon the bosom of the river.</p> - -<p>For one instant the two watchers upon the hilltop -sat stunned and breathless. Then, “My -God!” muttered Hardaker as he leaned to urge -the horse forward.</p> - -<p>“Hurry, Horace!” cried Rhoda. “We must -get father,—he’ll want to go at once!”</p> - -<p>They dashed down the hill at a gallop, and up -the other side, and drew in at the Ware gate to -find the doctor, his razor in one hand and his face -covered with lather, trying to see from the -veranda what had happened.</p> - -<p>They called to him, “A steamboat explosion!” -and he rushed back into his office, to reappear in -a moment with his surgical case and medicine bag, -wiping the lather from his face with his handkerchief.</p> - -<p>A swarm of rowboats was already picking up -survivors from the water, and the “Northern -Belle,” sure now of all the traffic there would be -that morning, slowed down and stood by until her -decks were crowded with the wounded, burnt, or -half-drowned sufferers.</p> - -<p>Dr. Ware found a rowboat to take him out to -the Belle, still waiting in mid-stream. “Come -with me, Rhoda,” he said. “You can help.”</p> - -<p>When the girl cast her eyes over the deck, as<span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[122]</span> -she stepped on board, she shrank back, appalled -and sickened by the ghastly sight. But with a -tightening of the lips she drew herself together -and went to work. Presently, as she was trying -to quiet an hysterical woman, her father came -close and drew her aside.</p> - -<p>“Rhoda,” he said in a low voice, “Jeff Delavan -has just been brought on board.” She turned -pale and swayed toward him and he grasped her -arm. “Steady, girl,” he encouraged. “He’s -alive, but unconscious. As far as I can see now -I don’t think he is seriously injured. Your -mother would probably want him taken to our -house.”</p> - -<p>She straightened, with a quick grip upon herself. -“Yes, father, of course she would—and I, -too. Oh, he shall go nowhere else!”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[123]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER X</h2> -</div> - -<p>So it happened that when Jefferson Delavan -came back to consciousness Mrs. Ware was bending -over him, extreme anxiety in her look. Dr. -Ware had found that his manifest injuries consisted -in a broken rib and some burns upon his -arms. But an accidental blow while clinging to -a plank in the water had rendered him unconscious -and he had been rescued barely in time to -prevent him from slipping off and sinking to his -death. Over the possible results of this blow the -physician was anxious. Everything would depend, -he had told his wife and Rhoda, upon how -the young man came out of the oblivion. He -had warned them that it might be with wandering -wits, and in that case only time could tell how -severe, possibly even how permanent, would be -the results of the accident.</p> - -<p>Delavan stirred and moaned slightly and Mrs. -Ware, bending over him with her fingers upon -his pulse, saw that his eyelids fluttered. “Rhoda!” -she called, her voice a-tremble and sinking to a -whisper, “he’s coming to!” Rhoda, leaning -across the foot of the bed upon her clenched hands, -was watching his face with intent eyes.</p> - -<p>“Come and stand beside me!” her mother went<span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[124]</span> -on with quivering lips. “If he shouldn’t know -me I—I can’t stand it!” Rhoda took his wrist -from her shaking hand, pressed firm fingers upon -his pulse and threw her other arm with a little -soothing caress around the elder woman’s shoulders. -Suddenly the patient’s eyes flew open and -with a bewildered stare looked up into Mrs. -Ware’s pale and anxious face.</p> - -<p>“Jeff, dear boy, don’t you know me?” she -begged. His blank, unrecognizing gaze rested -upon her for a silent minute, then wandered on -and fell upon her companion.</p> - -<p>“Speak to him, dear,” Mrs. Ware whispered -brokenly. But there was no need. Slowly a -puzzled expression crept into the vacuity, and that -presently gave way to one of recognition, and then -the hearts of the two women were stirred to their -depths by the glad wonder that illumined his -countenance. Never would Rhoda be able to -forget that look, like the sudden happiness over-spreading -the face of a child at unexpected sight -of a loved one, which her presence had inspired—her -presence, which had brought back his sense, -trembling upon the verge of that unknown black -gulf, into the world of light and reason.</p> - -<p>“Rhoda!” he said feebly, and then, smiling, -closed his eyes again.</p> - -<p>“Stay here beside him,” Mrs. Ware whispered, -“while I go and see if your father has returned. -Oh, honey! I think it’s going to be all right!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[125]</span>When she came back with Dr. Ware, half an -hour later, she slipped quietly into the room a few -steps ahead of her husband and found Rhoda telling -her patient what had happened, while he listened, -with her hand clasped in his. Her motherly -heart gave a quick throb. “It has brought Rhoda -to her senses too, at last!” was her quick inference. -But a moment later doubts disturbed her certainty -as she saw the unconcern with which the girl withdrew -her hand and made way for her father.</p> - -<p>Dr. Ware was well pleased with the young -man’s condition. “You’ll have to stay in bed a -few days, perhaps a week,” was his decision, -“while your broken rib is knitting itself together -again. You’ve got a pretty good case of nervous -shock also, as the result of that blow on your head—and -you can thank God, Mr. Delavan, that it’s -nothing worse than shock. But a few days of -quiet will make that all right too.”</p> - -<p>There was no perturbation in the physician’s -mind, at first, over the presence of Jefferson -Delavan in his house, invested though the young -man was with the romantic interest of his narrow -escape from death. He felt sure of his daughter -now and did not believe there was any danger of -her marrying the southerner. She had thrown -herself unreservedly into sympathy with the anti-slavery -cause and she was working with him -enthusiastically and efficiently in making of their -house a “station” on the Underground Railroad.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[126]</span>“No,” he assured himself, “she won’t go back -on her convictions now. She’s decided what’s -right for her to do, and she’ll stick to it like a -soldier.” He smiled with pride, but a moment -later his thought supplemented, with softened -feeling, “It will be hard on her, though!”</p> - -<p>On the whole, feeling thus sure about Rhoda, -he was rather glad to have the young man there, -because of the pleasure it would give his wife to -mother him and to recall the memories of her -youth. In Dr. Ware’s feeling toward his wife -there was a strong element of compassion. In -serious middle age, considering the past with judicial -mind, he doubted not a little if, in that wildly -impelling time of youthful passion, it had been -quite the fair thing for him to marry her and take -her away from all her girlish associations. He -knew well enough that she had loved him then -and that she still loved him and that their life -together had been as calmly happy as imperfect -mortals have any right to expect the wedded state -to be.</p> - -<p>But he also felt quite sure that if he had not -paid impetuous court to her in those vivid youthful -days she would have loved and married some -man of her own region and lived her life surrounded -by the conditions and the people with -whom she was most in sympathy. His conviction -that she would have been happier in such estate -inspired him with a very great tenderness toward<span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[127]</span> -her, and with a half-realized wish to make atonement, -in such little ways as became possible, for -what she had missed.</p> - -<p>She had been loyal to him through all these -years, and from the start had refused to go back -to her old home for even a short visit, because the -invitations from her family had never included -him. That one stay at Fairmount, with Jeff -Delavan’s mother, had been the only return to the -old life which she had ever allowed herself. So -now he was pleased when he foresaw how much -comfort she would find in having “Adeline’s boy” -under her roof and needing her ministrations.</p> - -<p>But Mrs. Ware had still another reason to be -pleased that Jeff Delavan was to be a member of -their household for several days and under such -conditions. She warmly hoped and therefore almost -believed that Rhoda’s determination would go -down under the persuasive influence of daily association -with her lover. The girl was a good nurse. -She had considerable knowledge, acquired from -her father, of what ought to be done in a sick-room -and she was one of those people with a -native knack for making an invalid comfortable. -Therefore, Mrs. Ware argued, it would be her -duty to take main charge of their bedridden guest, -and Rhoda would do it if she could be made to -see that it was her duty.</p> - -<p>There was nothing so sure to soften a girl’s -heart, she told herself, as seeing a strong man<span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[128]</span> -dependent upon her care. And this combined -with Jeff’s masterful love-making and the pleadings -of her own heart—could there be a better -combination? Truly, it was almost providential, -Jeff’s being upon that boat.</p> - -<p>She began at once to plan the household matters -so that Rhoda would be free to devote the -greater part of each day to the sick-room. She -decided also that it was most necessary for the -patient to be kept quiet, to be undisturbed by much -going in and out of his room, and that therefore -Charlotte, at least for several days, should not be -admitted.</p> - -<p>Charlotte keenly resented this order. She felt -it to be most unfair that she, who would undoubtedly -be to any young man the most entertaining -member of the family, should be barred from a -room so full of romantic interest as this, in which -lay a good-looking young gentleman, who had -barely been rescued from a tragic death but who -doubtless would still be capable of good judgment -in the matter of feminine attractions. When -Rhoda found her at the piano practising “The -Last Rose of Summer” in the late afternoon of -that first day she was looking very glum.</p> - -<p>“What’s the matter, sister?” Rhoda queried.</p> - -<p>“Nothing,” Charlotte answered shortly.</p> - -<p>“Really? I’d never think it!” Rhoda smiled -at her, sitting down with a lapful of stockings to -be sorted into goats-to-be-mended and sheep-not-to-be-mended.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[129]</span> -“If I were going to guess, I’d say -you were sleepy and needed to go to bed early. -I heard you come in last night, and it was pretty -late. You haven’t told me a word yet about the -party. Did you have a good time?”</p> - -<p>Charlotte laughed and tinkled some notes upon -the piano keys. “Yes, indeed! I haven’t had -such a perfectly lovely time in I don’t know -when!”</p> - -<p>“That’s good!” Rhoda smiled discreetly, her -eyes upon her work. “And Billy—did he have -a good time too?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, Billy! Rhoda, you ought to have seen -him! He was just furious! He looked as if he -wouldn’t want to speak to me for a month. But -he will!”</p> - -<p>“You haven’t said anything about Horace. Did -he enjoy the evening?”</p> - -<p>Charlotte, with her eyes on Rhoda’s face, -opened her lips to make a merry answer, hesitated, -then darted at her sister a searching glance.</p> - -<p>“Rhoda,” she exclaimed, “Horace has been -telling you about it!”</p> - -<p>“About what?” Rhoda looked up, the suspicion -of a smile at the corners of her mouth.</p> - -<p>“O, la! About <i>it</i>, I said, didn’t I? Oh, -Rhoda, it was such fun!” Charlotte’s voice was -suffused with laughter. “But it’s nothing to make -Horace propose. Why, Rhoda, you could do -it!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[130]</span>Rhoda laid her stockinged hand, in whose covering -she was searching for possible holes, in her lap -and turned serious eyes upon Charlotte’s face, -alight with merriment. “Do you really think so, -sister? But, then, I don’t think I should want -him to.”</p> - -<p>Charlotte looked at her in surprise. “You -wouldn’t, Rhoda? That’s queer! But you are -queer, anyway! The first thing we know you’ll -be wearing short hair and bloomers and going to -woman’s rights conventions! But please don’t, -until after I’m married, anyway, so I won’t belong -to the family any more!”</p> - -<p>“If you’re going to marry Horace right away -I shan’t have to wait very long, shall I?”</p> - -<p>“Who said I was going to marry Horace? Did -he?”</p> - -<p>“No. He said he—hoped you wouldn’t!”</p> - -<p>They both laughed and Charlotte went on, with -a saucy toss of her head: “Oh, he did, did he! He -ought to be punished for that! Rhoda, I’m going -to tell him he’s either got to keep his promises or -vote for Buchanan! You know, I’m awfully -fond of Horace”—her mouth drooped and her -voice was plaintive—“but I’d be willing to give -him up for the sake of a vote for Buck!”</p> - -<p>“Poor Horace! You ought to be ashamed to -tease him so!”</p> - -<p>“Well, then, if you don’t want him teased, I’ll -tell you what I’ll do.” She stooped to pluck<span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[131]</span> -Bully Brooks, now verging fast upon the dignity -of cathood, from the comfort of a nap upon a -chair. “If you’ll persuade mother to let me go -in to see Jeff Delavan whenever I want to I’ll let -Horace off. But if you don’t he’ll have to either -marry me or vote for my side. Won’t he, Bully -Brooks?”</p> - -<p>The response of the kitten was of such emphatic -sort that she boxed its ears and threw it to the -floor. “The kitten’s getting too big to be teased,” -Rhoda commented quietly.</p> - -<p>“Well, Horace isn’t!” she responded saucily -and went whistling from the room.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[132]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XI</h2> -</div> - -<p>“No, mother, I don’t think I ought to do it.”</p> - -<p>“Why, Rhoda, what a curious idea! It seems -to me to be plainly your duty. Jeff is so much -quieter and more contented when you are in the -room.”</p> - -<p>“But it doesn’t seem quite right to me to stay -there so much when I’m not going to marry him. -I know he—still loves me and if I spend so much -time with him he’ll think I’m just leading him on -to make him ask me again.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Ware smiled at her daughter and fondly -patted her arm. “My little Puritan girl! No, -honey, Jeff is a gentleman and he won’t think -anything of the sort. It’s very wrong of you to -let such silly scruples hinder his recovery. Just -think how fortunate it was that you were there -when he came to himself yesterday! Why, -Rhoda, I told your father it was just as if the -sight of you fairly pulled him into his right senses. -And now he’s nervous and fretful if you stay out -of the room very long, as you did this afternoon. -That’s bad for him, Rhoda, you know it is. He -needs to be kept contented and happy.”</p> - -<p>Rhoda turned to the window and looked -thoughtfully out. They were in her mother’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[133]</span> -bedchamber, on the western side of the house. -The sun was sinking into a royal couch of red and -gray and gold, amber and pink and purple. Its -level red rays fell upon the arbor and touched the -withering leaves with delicate, evanescent tints. -Her thoughts went back to that June night and -she seemed to sense again the fragrance of the -white petunias and to feel that prescience of fate -awaiting her in its heavy shadows. And then -with a rush that set her heart to beating faster -came the thrilling memory of love words and the -knowledge that had been born in her breast. Mrs. -Ware noted the direction of her eyes and saw the -quickening of the faint rose-bloom in her cheeks. -She guessed what was in her daughter’s mind, -smiled, and kept silent.</p> - -<p>That there was truth in what her mother said -about her influence in the sick-room Rhoda was -well aware. She had herself noted their patient’s -increased nervousness if she stayed long away from -his presence, and she treasured the thought of it -in her heart as she did his open words of love. -And she longed, far more than even her mother -could guess, to be there with him, to minister to -his comfort, to hear his voice, to catch now and -then the look of love in his eye. So much did she -yearn for all the blessedness of it that she was -afraid to trust herself, afraid for her resolution.</p> - -<p>She turned her eyes away from the grape arbor -and deliberately fixed her thoughts upon the slave<span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[134]</span> -woman and her two little children whom she had -succored two nights before, forced herself to think -of the dozen others whom she had helped to conceal -in the house and to further secretly on their -way, of the desperate, fleeing bondman whose -freedom she had won from Jefferson Delavan in -the woods on that June afternoon.</p> - -<p>With a sudden indrawing of her breath she set -her teeth upon her lip and said within herself, -“No, no, I will not fail you!”</p> - -<p>But the dear thought of her lover and his need -of her still drew her heart. Well, she would tell -him there must be no more of love between them -and that only upon that understanding would she -stay beside him in his sick-chamber. Then he -could have no false hopes and the way before them -would be fair and clear. At this capitulation she -was conscious of a thrill of happiness and she -could not resist dwelling for an instant upon a -sweet premonition of their hours together. Just -then she saw Charlotte down in the yard and her -sister’s proposal of the day before recurred to her, -as it had already done several times. She knew -there was no telling how far Charlotte might -choose to carry her teasing of Horace Hardaker.</p> - -<p>“Poor Horace! It’s a shame!” was her -thought, but a smile went with it. “Such a good -friend as he is, and he does take things so much -in earnest!” Why shouldn’t Charlotte go in and -out of the room as freely as she did? The idea<span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[135]</span> -brought a sharp pang with it—Charlotte had -such a way with her, and if she chose—well, what -right had she herself to Jeff’s love when she would -not marry him? What a mean thing it would be -to stand in her sister’s way if Jeff should choose -to transfer his affections. Something seemed -clutching at her heart, but she turned quickly -round to her mother, who had been waiting with -a pleased smile on her face, scarcely doubting -what would be the result of her daughter’s few -minutes of thought.</p> - -<p>But Mrs. Ware had not yet learned, although -Rhoda had been giving her constant proof of it -for more than twenty years, how different were -their viewpoints, their modes of thought, the results -toward which their temperaments bade them -aim. Rhoda was always surprising and disappointing -her, and yet she had such faith in Rhoda’s -good sense that she could never believe, beforehand, -that the girl would fail to see things just as -they appeared to her. And one such surprise was -even now awaiting her.</p> - -<p>“Maybe you’re right, mother, and I’ll do as -you like about it, only it seems to me that Charlotte -ought to go into the room as much as I do.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Ware looked at her daughter in blank -surprise. “Charlotte! Why, Rhoda, that would -be the greatest mistake! You know how trying -Charlotte is, and Jeff needs rest and quiet!”</p> - -<p>“His nervousness won’t last long, and it will be<span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[136]</span> -good for him to have some one there as lively and -entertaining as Charlotte is. It doesn’t look, -right, mother, it isn’t quite nice, when there are -two of us, to allow only one to go inside his room. -I’ll be chief nurse if you want me to,” and she -flashed her sudden smile upon her mother, “but -I want Charlotte for my assistant.”</p> - -<p>And finally, with many misgivings and much -inward wondering why Rhoda did not know -better than to give Charlotte such an advantage, -Mrs. Ware gave up her determination. And -Charlotte, her eyes sparkling over the triumph -she had gained and her cheeks glowing with -pleased excitement, helped Rhoda to take in the -invalid’s supper.</p> - -<p>The next day they were both in Jeff’s room, -Rhoda with some sewing at which she worked -while all three talked and jested together. But -Charlotte was making much pretense of putting -things to rights. She was of small stature, like -her mother, and had a dainty figure, supple and -well rounded. It showed to best advantage when -she flitted about, as she was doing then, with -quick, graceful movements, her body seeming to -take unconsciously just the right poses and her -arms and neck and head to move as if with some -pleasing rhythm. Rhoda, who was tall and inclined -to thinness and had long arms, knew with -inward bitterness that when she moved about a -room it was with no such pleasing effect. As she<span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[137]</span> -glanced now and then at Charlotte she could not -keep a touch of envy out of the admiration with -which she regarded her sister.</p> - -<p>Charlotte noted her side glances, made instant -inference as to their cause, and at once became -busier than ever. She had a way of tilting her -hoopskirts as she walked, of which her mother -had voiced frequent disapproval, so that with -every step they showed her feet and ankles, and -seemed to emphasize the grace and daintiness of -her figure, with whose movements they swayed in -harmony. The accomplishment had cost her a -deal of practice before her mirror, and she usually -reserved its exercise for occasions when she -wished to be especially provoking. But she began -it now, although her mother was not present, -and tilted back and forth across the big room, -tossing every now and then to Jeff Delavan a -smile, a saucy look, a laugh, or a gay rejoinder. -His eyes followed her and he joined in her gaiety -with evident entertainment. A dull, pained foreboding -began to creep into Rhoda’s heart, but she -said firmly to herself, “It’s all right, whatever -happens, for if I won’t marry him I’ve no right -to try to keep his love,” and held it down and -laughed and talked with them.</p> - -<p>After a little Mrs. Ware came in for her morning -call upon her “dear boy” and when she left -the room she summoned Charlotte to go down the -hill upon an errand for her. As the door closed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[138]</span> -upon them Delavan turned to Rhoda with a -smile.</p> - -<p>“What a spoiled child that little sister of yours -is!” he said. “I rather think she needs a lesson, -and some of these days she’s bound to get it. It’s -to be hoped,” and his voice became gentler, “that -it won’t be too hard on her.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I’ve an idea,” Rhoda replied, “that -Charlotte would be pretty well able to take care -of herself and would be likely to give back a -better lesson than she got!”</p> - -<p>He gazed at her a moment in silence, and she, -seeing the look that was coming into his eyes, -turned her attention to her sewing and tried not -to feel the trembling in her bosom and the warming -of her cheeks. “How loyal you are, Rhoda,” -he said presently, “except to your own heart—and -to me!”</p> - -<p>“Don’t, Jeff! Please don’t say those things -to me any more! I mustn’t listen to them, no -matter how much I’d like to, for I’m not going -to marry you—you know that. Give it all up, -Jeff, and let’s see if we can’t be just good friends!”</p> - -<p>“No,” he broke in, “I shall not give it up, as -long as I can see and hear in your eyes and your -voice that you love me! You’ve no right, Rhoda, -to deny your heart and mine like this!”</p> - -<p>“Oh, Jeff, I’ve gone over that, and over and -over it, so many times with myself, and there’s -only one right way, the way my conscience points<span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[139]</span> -out to me! I can’t marry you, Jeff, I can’t, and -that’s all there is about it! It’s only painful to -us both to talk about it, so please don’t do it again! -We enjoy each other’s society so much, both of -us, so let’s just have what comfort we can out of -being together while you’re here, and not spoil it -by talking about what can’t be!”</p> - -<p>“It’s because we love each other, dear heart, -that we like being together! Oh, Rhoda, if -you’d only admit—”</p> - -<p>She bent toward him with her sudden, flashing -smile, that he had come to know as the signal of -some equally sudden and unexpected face-about -in her thought, and he stopped, expectant.</p> - -<p>“I do admit it, Jeff!” came to him demurely in -the wake of the smile.</p> - -<p>“Rhoda!” he cried, and his whole being tried -to leap toward her. But he had no more than -lifted his head from the pillow than she sprang -up with a cry of alarm, her hand thrust out to hold -him back.</p> - -<p>“Jeff, you mustn’t!” she exclaimed, her face suddenly -serious again and her voice all anxiety. -“You’ll break that rib over again if you don’t lie -still, and father says it’s knitting together so -nicely!”</p> - -<p>In her alarm she had put one hand against his -chest to push him back upon his pillow. Quickly -his hand imprisoned it and held it against his -heart. For a moment neither spoke and as she<span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[140]</span> -bent above him feeling his heart throb beneath her -hand, looking down into his eyes and seeing love -and longing there, response crept into her own -and a warmer color into her cheeks. Unconsciously -she bent nearer, swayed toward him, and -he threw up both arms, sure that they would enclose -her in the embrace for which they were -longing. But realization flashed upon her and -she sprang back. He held his empty arms toward -her for a moment, then let them fall upon the -bed. She could not bear the look upon his face -and sank down into her chair, her own hidden in -her hands.</p> - -<p>Presently she began gathering up her sewing, -scattered upon the floor. “Rhoda,” he said -humbly, “I beg your pardon!”</p> - -<p>She would not meet his eyes, but kept her own -steadily upon her sewing, as she neatly folded it -together. “It wasn’t your fault any more than -mine,” she answered in subdued accents, “but it -mustn’t happen again, or I shall have to stay out -of here entirely. I must go now. Father is usually -home by this time, and I always go to his -office when he comes to see if he needs me for -anything.”</p> - -<p>“But you’ll come back, dear, as soon as you -can? And you’ll forgive me?” he begged.</p> - -<p>“Yes, I’ll come back, when I can, but I’ll be -busy now, for a while. And I’ll forgive you—if -you’ll forgive me!” She smiled at him, not the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[141]</span> -radiant flash which he loved, but just a tender -curving of the lips which sent no merry light up -into her serious eyes.</p> - -<p>“Rhoda! What a dear girl you are! Forgive -you! You’ll come back soon?”</p> - -<p>“As soon as I can.” She turned at the door, -still smiling gently, and held up at him a warning -finger. “But you must promise not to talk about -love!”</p> - -<p>“All right, Rhoda. If you won’t stay away -long, I’ll promise—for next time!”</p> - -<p>Outside the door a trembling seized her and -she leaned against the wall. “I didn’t give up,” -she told herself, “I didn’t, that time. But could -I—again?”</p> - -<p>She went into her own room and knelt beside -the window, whence, a few nights before she had -seen the mulatto refugee and her babies come -trudging up the street. Vividly the picture came -before her mind and with it once more the thought -of all that such a flight must mean to a woman, -alone and in the dark, with two helpless children, -herself almost as helpless as they. She bowed -her head upon the window sill and whispered: -“O God! Dear God in heaven, give me strength -to keep myself away from that accursed thing! -Save me from my own heart, which tempts me so, -and keep me, O God, keep me from giving up!”</p> - -<p>When she rose from her knees, she did not go -at once downstairs, but moved about the room,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[142]</span> -doing little things that did not need to be done, -straightening a pillow on the bed, moving a chair, -raising the window shade, then lowering it again, -rearranging the things on her bureau. And at -last, irresolutely, she opened a drawer and took -out the little box tied with white ribbon. She -held the withered rose in her palm, kissed it, and -said softly, “Good-by, dear love, good-by.”</p> - -<p>Perhaps she believed at that moment that she -would never again allow herself to caress and to -brood over this little symbol of her love, that she -would never again give up to her heart even in a -privacy where none but herself could know that -she had yielded. But she carefully put the box -away again in the same hiding place, which she -knew so well that her hand could go straight -thither with her eyes shut. For her years numbered -but two and twenty and they had fallen -from her along an easy path, marked as yet by -struggles too few to have taught her that God -helps only him who helps himself to the uttermost, -and that perhaps far more of God is in his -own strivings than in the distant heaven to which -he prays.</p> - -<p>On the stairway she met her father. “I’ve -been looking for you, Rhoda,” he said. “Come -into the office.” There he carefully shut the -doors, after a hurried glance round about. “I’ve -just had a letter,” he went on in a lowered voice,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[143]</span> -“from Alexander Wilson. You remember him, -don’t you?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, father. The young Canadian who was -here a month or so ago, to study the Underground -Road, and went on south to stir up the slaves. -Did I tell you that the woman I took to Gilbertson’s -the other night had been started by him?”</p> - -<p>“No! Was she? He’s doing a good work -down there, at tremendous risks, too! If they -find out what he’s up to it will mean tarring and -feathering, and lynching afterward, and all of it -on the spot. He’s a brave fellow, Rhoda! -Where did he send this woman from?”</p> - -<p>Rhoda colored. In the excitement and the unusual -press of duties that followed the steamboat -explosion there had been little time for private -talk with her father and beyond the bare -information that the three refugees had been there -and that she had taken them on she had told him -nothing of the incidents of that night. It had -come about that she shrank from saying anything -about Delavan’s being a slaveholder, especially -to her father. It seemed to her a moral obliquity -which her love instinctively yearned to hide from -others. But there was only a moment’s hesitation -before her earnest eyes met his frankly.</p> - -<p>“She came from Jeff’s plantation, and she is -the wife of the man, Andrew, to whom Jeff gave -his freedom last summer—you remember? Mr. -Wilson saw him in Canada and he sent word and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[144]</span> -some money to his wife for her to follow him. -She said Mr. Wilson got eleven slaves together, -from different plantations, and started them all -off on the same night. The rest went by other -routes,—mostly, I think, through Philadelphia. -She wanted to come the same way her husband -had taken. Wasn’t it brave of her, father, to -start off alone with those two little children, without -knowing a thing about how or where to go, -except just as she is told, from one station to the -next! She seemed so passive and so trustful! I -haven’t felt so sorry for any of the others that -we’ve helped as I did for her!”</p> - -<p>In Dr. Ware’s heart some uneasiness had begun -to make itself manifest lest the presence of -the young man in that room upstairs might yet -influence his daughter more than he wished. Perhaps -he craved reassurance that she did not regret -her decision. Perhaps also unspoken sympathy -with the struggle between her conscience and her -heart moved him as he asked:</p> - -<p>“You do not regret, do you, Rhoda, that you -went into this work?”</p> - -<p>She looked at him in some surprise and met his -gray, calm eyes bent upon her with something -more like wistfulness in their expression than she -had ever seen in them before.</p> - -<p>“No, father, I do not. I am very glad.” -There was no mistaking the truth of her quiet -tones. But the next instant her lip began to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[145]</span> -tremble. By sheer force of will she held it firm, -closely pressed against the other, and fought down -the lump that was rising in her throat. That look -in her father’s eyes had made her long to throw -herself upon his breast, and sobbing her heart -out there tell him how hard the struggle had become. -Surely he would sympathize and give her -comfort and strength. For an instant the vision -came back of him and her mother, in their passionate -youth, galloping, galloping, on that wild -ride to their heart’s rest—oh, surely he would -understand both sides of her trouble! But the -habit of years was strong upon them both, and they -sat in silence for a moment longer, while Rhoda -battled down her emotion and her father looked -through a bunch of letters he had taken from his -breast pocket. It was she who spoke first.</p> - -<p>“You said you had a letter from Mr. Wilson, -father. Was it about that you wanted to see -me?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. Here it is. He writes from Vicksburg:</p> - -<p>“‘<span class="smcap">Dear Friend Ware</span>: On this same date -I am forwarding to you six copies of “The Burning -Question,” three bound in black and three in -tan. If there have been any changes as to handlers -and forwarders since I was in your neighborhood -can you send some one to the south side of -the river to watch out for them and see that they -do not fall into too appreciative hands? They -are billed to go in the usual way and ought to be<span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[146]</span> -on hand within a week after this letter reaches -you.’”</p> - -<p>He put the letter away and looked at her -anxiously. “Can we take care of them, Rhoda?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, we must, father! We must manage to -do it in some way!” She bent forward, looking -at him intently, and into her face crept the expression -he was beginning to see there whenever they -talked or planned or worked together upon this -matter, a strained, eager look, with something in -it of exaltation.</p> - -<p>“Walter Kimball and his brother Lewis would -probably be able to go across and keep watch for -them,” he began.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” she broke in, “and one of them could -hurry back and let Horace know, as soon as they -get there, and then go over again and help the -other row them across, and Horace could rush up -here and tell us, so that we could be ready for -them. It will be difficult to hide so many,” she -ended doubtfully.</p> - -<p>“The boys must arrange to get them here in -the night and then we can manage it. I’ll get -word to Chaddle Wallace to be in the neighborhood -with his peddler’s wagon and he can take -four of them in that. Perhaps one of the Kimball -boys can drive two in our carriage.”</p> - -<p>“Or I can, if you want me to. I’ll see that -Lizzie has plenty of things cooked ready for their -supper. Oh, it will go off all right, father, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[147]</span> -we won’t need to keep them here more than an -hour!”</p> - -<p>“We’ll have to make some different arrangement -now that winter will soon be here,” he said -thoughtfully. “We’ll have to contrive some sort -of hiding place in the house or the barn, so that -we can keep them over night if necessary.”</p> - -<p>“I’ve been wondering, father, if a sort of little -room couldn’t be hidden in the woodshed, with -the wood piled around it close.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, that could be done,” he nodded slowly, -“and it would be a pretty safe place. The slave -chasers would hardly think of investigating an -innocent-looking woodpile. That’s a good suggestion, -Rhoda, and I’ll have it done, and the -winter’s wood stacked all around it. Marshal -Hanscomb has got a pretty keen nose and I think -he’s suspicious about me anyway, just because of -my sentiments. But I reckon that would be too -much for Hanscomb!”</p> - -<p>He smiled at his daughter with quiet exultation -in his manner and she smiled back at him proudly -and said it surely would.</p> - -<p>“Your mother wants to make a trip down to -Cincinnati soon and Charlotte, of course, would -be glad to go with her.” A trace of embarrassment -suddenly appeared in his manner and, as if -to conceal or to distract himself from some disconcerting -thought, he began looking over and -sorting the letters and papers on his desk. “I’ll<span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[148]</span> -have this done while she’s gone,” he added -abruptly.</p> - -<p>Rhoda rose, feeling dismissal in the sudden -change in her father’s manner and went slowly -toward the door. She felt what was in his mind. -It had brought discomfort into her own thought, -and more than once she had wondered if she might -not speak to him about it. But unwillingness -even to seem to question his attitude in a matter -so peculiarly intimate between him and her -mother had held her back. Now she knew that -it was in his mind as well as in hers and she felt -that it would grow and become an embarrassment -between them. For herself it was already a stumbling -block whose importance seemed graver with -every episode of her work in the Underground. -Why not meet it at once and get the question settled?</p> - -<p>She stopped with her hand on the door knob -and looked back. To her surprise his eyes were -following her, those calm, clear, cool eyes that in -her mind were a sort of embodiment of her father. -They seemed to sum up and express his whole -character and temperament. She could never -think of him without seeing his gray eyes looking -at her, kind, but dispassionate and judicial.</p> - -<p>“What is it, Rhoda?” he asked.</p> - -<p>She came slowly back, looking down, and conscious -that there must be something almost like -shamefacedness in her manner.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[149]</span>“I was wondering, father—is it necessary—do -you think—must we keep it from mother always? -Charlotte—it’s just as well—and that’s no matter—but -mother—” She stopped, confused, and -fingered the chair-back beside which she stood. -Her eyes were upon it or she might have seen a -slight flush color his usually pale skin. There -was a moment’s silence before he spoke.</p> - -<p>“Don’t misunderstand me about that, daughter,” -he said gently. He did not often address -her except by her name and when he did sometimes -call her “daughter” or “child” it stirred in -her a shy warmth toward him and awoke a half-realized -impulse to cling to his hand or stroke his -hair. The impulse always died away in self-consciousness, -but the warmth remained in her -heart and made her glad.</p> - -<p>“If I don’t take your mother into my confidence -about this it is because I want to spare her any -worry or embarrassment or divided feeling that -it might cause her. Don’t think for a minute,” -and his tones were earnest, “that I don’t think she -would be loyal. I know well enough how true -to my interests she would be. But, do you -understand, it might grieve her, or give her some -uneasiness, or even pain, if she knew what we are -doing. Her sympathies are all on the other side. -But I must do this work. It isn’t much, but it -will help, and it seems to me the best that is possible -for me. But I want to do it, if I can, without<span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[150]</span> -adding—without giving her any discomfort. -I’m glad you spoke about it, Rhoda, for I wanted -you to understand.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you, father. I understand how you -feel, but—” she had reached the door again, “but, -I wish it didn’t have to be so. I wish we could -tell her.”</p> - -<p>“So do I, daughter.” She looked back, surprised -at the unusual sadness in his voice, and saw -him sitting at his desk, his head on one hand and -his eyes on the floor. The sight of him thus -smote her heart. She hesitated an instant, then -went out softly and left him alone.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[151]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XII</h2> -</div> - -<p>Mid-October came, and the day of local elections -in three of the northern states. The whole -country was waiting on the tiptoe of expectancy -for the result. Pennsylvania was the keystone -of the situation. The party that would win the -presidential contest would have to have her -twenty-seven electoral votes, and this state poll -was looked upon as a sure indication of how the -commonwealth would go three weeks later. It -was everywhere admitted that the issue would be -close. Sectional and party feeling and consequent -excitement ran so high and hot that there were -dark forebodings of what might happen. All -men knew that they walked upon a thin crust over -volcanic fires that might burst through at any -moment, upon any pretext.</p> - -<p>The Republican party was surprising itself and -the entire country by its showing of remarkable -strength and its brilliant prospects of success. -From the South were coming threats of disunion -louder and more frequent and more positive. In -many of the slave states there was already the stir -of endeavor to agree upon concerted action in -case Frémont should be elected. Through the -north the Democratic and the Whig parties made<span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[152]</span> -much of these portents as showing the danger -Republican success would mean to the united -country. But the Republican leaders, jubilant -over the proofs of their strength which the campaign -had developed, and secretly recognizing -the weight of this argument, made light of both -it and the southern threats.</p> - -<p>And so the whole country waited in breathless -anxiety on that cold and drizzling October day, -with its attention centered on tumultuous Philadelphia, -both sides fearing defeat, both sides -hoping for victory, and all dreading the spark with -which some chance word or untoward accident -might kindle the smoldering passions in that city -into flames that would quickly involve the whole -nation.</p> - -<p>Rhoda moved restlessly about the house, showing -little interest in her usual duties and disregarding -her mother’s hints that she was neglecting -their invalid guest. Delavan had almost recovered -from his injuries and in a few days would -return home. Mrs. Ware was sorely disappointed -that his presence in the house had not -affected her daughter’s determination. She began -to feel sure that it must be her husband’s influence -over Rhoda that balked all her own efforts -and nullified the effect of the constant association -from which she had hoped so much.</p> - -<p>Jeff asked her advice that morning and they -talked the matter over intimately. She promised<span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[153]</span> -him once more the full measure of her influence -with Rhoda. “I’m afraid it isn’t much,” she -said, a little tremulously. “But I’ll do my best, -Jeff.”</p> - -<p>“I thank you, Mrs. Ware, madam, and I assure -you I shall not go away without trying again -to win her consent.”</p> - -<p>“You and little Emmy used to call me ‘Aunt -Emily,’ when I was at Fairmount,” she said with -a suggestion of reproof, half motherly, half coquettish, -if the chastened ghost of a manner that -sometimes remembered its alluring youth might -still be called coquettish.</p> - -<p>“It is the dearest wish of my heart to call you -‘mother,’ some day,” he answered, kissing her -hand.</p> - -<p>“And of mine to hear you call me so,” she -added, bending over and touching her lips to his -forehead. Then they fell to talking of his -mother and she was deeply interested in the many -little things Jeff remembered of her life at Fairmount. -He recalled that she had always shown -concern for the welfare of the slaves and had -given training in their duties and deportment to -the housemaids and had allowed them and also -the men who served about the house and gardens -to acquire a little education if they wanted it.</p> - -<p>“You must tell Rhoda about that,” Mrs. Ware -exclaimed. “Let her see that there is some virtue in -slaveholders. It’s just her notion about slavery being<span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[154]</span> -wrong that keeps you apart, Jeff. If you could -only convince her that there is as much right in -it as there is in anything in this world, where nothing -is all right, I believe she’d give up. I’ve tried -to, but she seems to think I don’t know enough -about it, in general, for what I say to have any -influence. Talk to her about it, Jeff, and make -her see plainly how we of the South feel about it. -You know how necessary slave labor is to the -South, and all that side of it. She has heard only -the things the abolitionists say, here in the North, -and she’s all taken up with that. But you can give -her the other side, as a southern man with one of -the best and kindest of hearts, who has studied the -question thoroughly. If you can only convince -her that slavery is right, dear boy, or even best for -the niggers, as we know it is, you’ll win the day—and -make me almost as happy as you will Rhoda, -or yourself!”</p> - -<p>“It is good advice, madam, and I shall follow -it. I have begun to understand that I must win -Rhoda’s head before she will give up her heart. -But I shall win them both, and call you ‘mother’ -yet!”</p> - -<p>“Heaven grant it, dear boy, for you were made -for each other, you and my dear girl!”</p> - -<p>She rose to take her leave, but Charlotte came -with fresh medicines for the invalid and bustled -about the room preparing his draughts. Mrs. -Ware, with an eye upon her daughter’s graceful<span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[155]</span> -movements, sat down again and talked of ordinary -affairs until she thought Charlotte had spent -as much time there as was needful. Then she -summoned that young lady to go with her and -assist at certain rites in the kitchen.</p> - -<p>But Rhoda would not visit the sick-chamber -through all the forenoon. Why she was staying -away she scarcely knew, except that she said to -herself several times during the long hours of the -morning, “He won’t miss me if Charlotte’s there.” -Jeff had obeyed her injunction that he must not -speak of love, and during the last two days had -kept careful curb upon his tongue and close watch -upon the language of his eyes. And she missed -more than she would admit to herself the outbreaks -of those heretofore unruly members. She -shared her father’s suspense over the election that -was going on and during the forenoon, whenever -he was alone in his office, she went in to ask him -if he had heard any news and to talk over the -situation.</p> - -<p>More than ever, this fall, he was making a -companion of her and discussing with her as freely -as he did with Horace Hardaker and his other -anti-slavery friends, the plans and movements of -the anti-slavery people, and the prospects of the -Republican party. She was a good listener, rarely -making comments unless she had something worth -while to say, and usually he found what she did -say clear-thoughted and sensible.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[156]</span>On this morning it was not only her interest in -what was going on in Pennsylvania that sent her -every now and again to seek her father’s society. -Of equal force was her desire to escape from the -tormenting questions that filled her mind as to -what Jeff was doing, whether Charlotte was with -him, and whether or not he was wishing she were -there. And so, between her political zeal and -her love, she passed a restless, fruitless morning.</p> - -<p>Her mother noted her frequent visits to her -father’s office and, coupling with these the fact -that she had all the morning ignored Delavan’s -presence in the house, made instant inference. -“It’s Amos’s influence over her,” she told herself, -resentment rising bitter in her heart. “He’s urging -her against it and spoiling my dear girl’s life, -just for the sake of his own whims! It’s most -selfish of him—and wicked. But I’ll see what I -can do!”</p> - -<p>Knocking at Rhoda’s bedroom door after dinner -she found her daughter sitting at the eastern window, -hands idly folded in her lap, and eyes upon -the wooded hills, whose autumn colors glowed -softly through the gray, dripping mist. It was -so unusual to see her doing absolutely nothing that -Mrs. Ware stared at her in blank surprise.</p> - -<p>“Why, Rhoda, you look lonely sitting here all -by yourself,” she said briskly. “Why don’t you -go in and stay with Jeff for a while?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[157]</span>“I don’t know—I guess I don’t feel like it,” -Rhoda responded, a forlorn note in her voice.</p> - -<p>“Jeff has been asking for you, dear. In fact, -he’s fretting himself into a fever because you -haven’t even looked into the room all this morning. -And you were there only a little while yesterday—”</p> - -<p>“Twice, yesterday, mother.”</p> - -<p>“But such a little while each time. It isn’t -kind to leave the poor boy alone all day, on such -a dreary day as this.”</p> - -<p>“But Charlotte—”</p> - -<p>“No, I want Charlotte to help me to-day. It’s -time she was learning to do more things about -the house. Put on your pink frock, honey, you -look so pretty in that, and go in and cheer Jeff -up for a while.”</p> - -<p>Rhoda did not answer, but looked out at the -wet earth and the drizzling rain. Through her -soul there surged such a forceful longing to follow -her mother’s advice that for a moment it -seemed to arrest her powers of both action and -speech.</p> - -<p>“Don’t sit here and mope any longer,” her -mother went on with tender cheerfulness, “and -don’t be so unkind to poor, sick Jeff. Come on, -honey, I’ll help you dress.” And opening the -wardrobe she took out the pink gown. Its wide -skirt was covered with tiny flounces and when it -was adjusted over a ruffled petticoat and her<span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[158]</span> -largest hoopskirt, her slender waist and her head -and shoulders rose out of its spreading folds as if -they were emerging from a huge, many-petaled -rose.</p> - -<p>Jeff Delavan’s face brightened as she floated -into the room. He was dressed, for the first time -since his accident, and sitting by the window.</p> - -<p>“Rhoda! How good of you to come—and to -wear that dress! You’re like a ray of sunshine -on this dark day! I’ve listened and hoped for -you all day, and at last you’re here! You’re such -a busy person, Rhoda, that I ought to feel fortunate -to get even a little of your time. What have -you been doing all the morning? All manner of -things?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,—no—that is—yes, I’ve been busy,—I -always am, you know,” she stammered, confused, -remembering how idle her morning had been. -“I’ve been with father part of the time,” she went -on, recovering her self-possession, “talking about -the elections to-day.”</p> - -<p>“What do you care about the elections?” he -demanded, in bantering gaiety.</p> - -<p>She turned to him with proud gravity. “More -than I do about anything else in the world.”</p> - -<p>Quickly his expression changed to one as serious -as her own, and he began to speak of the situation -in Pennsylvania and of his own belief in the -success of the Democratic state ticket. She listened -for a few sentences and then her heart began<span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">[159]</span> -to clamor for signs of love in his face and voice -and words. She ignored the fact that she had forbidden -all such manifestation and knew only that -she wanted it and it was not there. All unknown -to her, in his gladness at her coming her lover -was having his own battle with himself to do her -bidding, and was so fearful lest he should overstep -the line she had drawn and lose her dear -presence that he was plunging into this political -discourse as the safest thing he could do.</p> - -<p>She seemed to be paying close attention, but she -heard only a word or a part of a sentence here and -there. Instead, vague fears, half-realized doubts, -uncertain questions filled her brain. Would she -ever again see that look in his face? Did he -ever look at Charlotte like that? Was his love -for her all gone so soon? And then the spirit -of the eternal feminine began to assert itself in -her breast. She was, after all, her mother’s daughter, -and although the spirit of coquetry lay deep -within her breast, so deep that only the call of -truest love could bring it to the surface, yet it -was there and it came now to do her heart’s -bidding.</p> - -<p>It was all done instinctively, without conscious -intention. But if her mother or sister could have -looked through the wall they would have been -surprised by the sight of a different Rhoda from -the one they knew. This tender creature of coquettish -graces and alluring smiles and eyelids<span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">[160]</span> -quickly lowered over ardent glances—was she -the practical, efficient daughter of the house, -upon whom they were both so dependent?</p> - -<p>Delavan gazed at her, began to stumble over -his sentences, confused the names of the people -of whom he spoke, broke off for an instant, went -back and started anew, then stopped abruptly in -the middle of a sentence. “Rhoda Ware,” he -exclaimed in a low voice that shook with feeling.</p> - -<p>At the sound of it Rhoda’s little, half-conscious -coquetries dropped from her instantly. It was a -serious face that his gaze encountered as he surveyed -her with dark eyes glowing and about his -mouth the baffled but determined look that had -become for her a sign of his strength—measure -alike of his self-control and of his determination. -She had seen it in every one of their struggles and -it had seemed always to be saying to her, “You’ve -conquered this time, but I shall win you yet!” -She watched for it and loved it because it told -her alike of her power over him and of his forceful -masculine will, and perhaps also because deep down -in her heart she half believed and almost hoped -it would yet be stronger than her own resolution.</p> - -<p>“Why do you insist upon keeping us apart?” -he demanded, an imperious note in his voice. -“You are doing a wicked thing. You’ve no right -to starve both our hearts of the love that belongs -to us, because of a mere whim!”</p> - -<p>“Listen to me, Jeff, while I tell you the truth,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">[161]</span> -and then you won’t want to marry me!” She was -sitting straight and stiff, her face pale, and in it -something of the same exaltation he had seen there -on that June day in the arbor—the outward glow -of the sacrificial fires she had lighted for the consuming -of her love.</p> - -<p>“You don’t know what I am, Jeff! I am a -nigger-thief and I am proud of it! I am stealing -your slaves, anybody’s slaves that want their freedom, -and helping them to find their way to Canada, -where they will be safe! Jefferson Delavan, of -Fairmount, Kentucky, doesn’t want to marry a -woman who does that sort of thing and means to -keep it up as long as there are slaves and she has -power to help them!”</p> - -<p>He looked at her a moment in silent amazement. -“Rhoda, you don’t realize the full significance of -what you are saying, and doing!”</p> - -<p>“If I could I would run off every slave from -your plantations and send them all to Canada, -where you could never touch one of them again. -That is how much I realize it!”</p> - -<p>A slow smile crept over his face while he regarded -her with a look that was half surprise, -half overleaping love, and was not without a touch -of tender amusement. “But if you were to take -away all my slaves, dear heart, you wouldn’t do -me nearly the harm that you are doing now by -stealing yourself from me!”</p> - -<p>Her serious eyes looked straight into his for a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">[162]</span> -moment in silence, and then her flashing smile -broke over her face. “I won’t ask you to put -your words to the proof,” she said in a quizzical -tone.</p> - -<p>He flushed a little. “I know what you mean,” -he answered tenderly, “and if there were no more -in this matter than the mere question of having or -not having slaves I would willingly free all that -I own—ask Emily to divide the property and give -their freedom to all the niggers that might fall -to my share—for your sake, Rhoda, dear, for the -sake of making you my wife. But the South needs -slave labor—has got to have it in order to be -prosperous—and I would be as untrue to my duty -to my state and to my section if I were to do that -as you think you would be to your conscience if -you were to accept slavery.”</p> - -<p>She followed quickly upon his last word: “There -can be no need of property or prosperity, as you -call it, equal to the need, the right, of every human -being to his freedom. When you make your comfort -and wealth,—I mean all of you in the South,—of -more importance than that first human right -you are outraging one of God’s laws, and God’s -curse will yet fall heavily upon you because of it.”</p> - -<p>“You speak in that way, Rhoda, because—pardon -me—you really know nothing about economic -conditions in the South. You are merely repeating -the words of these abolition fanatics at the North, -where the industrial conditions are such that slave<span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">[163]</span> -labor would not be profitable. If it were, there’d -be a different tune sung north of Mason and -Dixon’s line!”</p> - -<p>She shook her head at him. “You say that because -you don’t understand the feeling that is at -the bottom of the anti-slavery movement. It -places human rights above business profits.”</p> - -<p>“As to that, we of the South have our human -rights and civil rights, too. We are trying to keep -faith and you of the North are struggling to break -it. You abolitionists forget the big share, the -equal share, the southern states had in the making -of this country, and you forget that they bore -more than their share of the burden and loss of -making it into a nation. There was more blood -shed in South Carolina during the Revolution, -Rhoda, than in Massachusetts, yes, more than in -all New England. And now Massachusetts has the -presumption, the insolence, to try to dictate to us -how we shall order our affairs! We let her alone -to work out her own destiny, and we demand the -same right!”</p> - -<p>“But we northerners see farther and see clearer -into the way things are going than you can, because -your eyes are blinded by what you believe -to be your present interests. We want you to -recognize the truth, that this nation was created -to be a free country, that those who made it meant -it to be the hope of the whole world, and it can<span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">[164]</span> -never, never, be that as long as you of the South -insist upon making it half slave.”</p> - -<p>“You are quite mistaken, Rhoda, as to what -they meant, or, rather, as to the way in which they -meant it. When this nation was created North -and South joined in sworn faith to a written contract. -That contract recognized the rights of the -south in its peculiar, its necessary, institution, and -provided for their safeguarding. And now the -North is trying to break that sworn faith, to force -us out of our constitutional rights. It is not only -our property but our honor that is at stake, and -we should be craven indeed if we did not resent -this combination of despotism and insult! Preston -Brooks was right when he said the other day that -if Frémont is elected the people of the South ought -to march to Washington and seize the archives and -the treasury of the government!”</p> - -<p>She was leaning eagerly forward, her eyes shining, -her lips parted, her face, paled by her excitement, -vivid with the feeling that had swept her -up into the regions where soul and body breathe the -elixir of supreme conviction. But when she spoke, -breaking in quickly upon his first pause, it was -not only the fulness of her belief that thrilled in -her low, tense tones. Their lower notes were sweet -with the love that burned in her heart.</p> - -<p>“Oh, Jeff, can’t you see— Oh, I wish I could -make you see that there can be no rights that are -founded on wrong.” She paused a moment, her<span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">[165]</span> -voice on a suspended accent, as she gathered her -thoughts together. Delavan’s eyes devoured the -fair picture that she made and his heart leaped in -response to those sweet notes in her voice. His -mind was full of the ideas he had just uttered, -tense with the conviction of their truth, and his -nerves were thrilling with the emotions they had -bred. And this dear girl, leaning toward him with -spirit-lit face, as tense with her convictions as he -with his, was the embodiment of all that northern -feeling and activity which he so much resented, -against which he protested with all his force as a -base invasion of Southern rights.</p> - -<p>But, even as his body throbbed with love and -admiration for her fairness and sweetness, his -spirit yearned toward the loftiness of hers. Ah, -they were akin, they were mates, their spirits, even -though they were opposed! He recognized in her -that same fervency of faith, that same power of -devotion to the mind’s ideal, that were bone and -sinew of his own temperament. And they were -on opposing sides of this vital question—so intensely -vital, he felt, to him, to his section, to the -nation, to the whole of civilization! If only -they were joined in their ideals!</p> - -<p>“You see, Jeff, when they signed the Constitution, -they hadn’t come to realize yet how wrong slavery -is. Men grow in knowledge of right and wrong, -and we in the North have grown faster on this -question than you have, because we haven’t had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">[166]</span> -the comfort and the luxury and the wealth produced -by that awful wrong to blind and hinder -us. Our eyes have been opened—God has opened -them for us, and we see slavery for what it is—a -hideous, cruel, horrible thing that keeps human -beings down and makes beasts of them, brutalizes -the souls God made in his image!”</p> - -<p>She clasped her hands and began to extend her -arms beseechingly toward her listener. Her pink -sleeves fell back a little and his heart swelled with -longing to see the warm roundness of those arms -reaching out to him in love and surrender. “Oh, -Jeff, it is so wicked, so evil,” she began. “I wish -I could make you see—” her voice broke, she drew -back her arms and dropped her face into her hands, -then sprang to her feet. “And—and—oh, Jeff—” -her voice was thrilling with love, but it trembled -upon sobs and she rushed to the door. “It is -keeping us apart!” she cried, and the door closed -behind her.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">[167]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XIII</h2> -</div> - -<p>Charlotte ran upstairs from the veranda and -dashed into her sister’s room. “Do look out, -Rhoda,” she called. “It’s that crazy peddler, -Chad Wallace. He’s asking father if he can keep -his wagon in our barn to-night. Now there’ll be -some fun this evening—he’s so comical, with his -songs and dances!”</p> - -<p>Rhoda moved to the window and saw a little, -wiry-looking man talking with Dr. Ware beside -the east gate. A short, sparse growth of graying -whiskers covered his face to the middle of his -cheeks, and pale-colored hair curled around his -neck below his shabby, bell-crowned hat. His -wagon, with side curtains rolled up displaying -boxes piled inside, was at the hitching post.</p> - -<p>“He looks just the same as ever, doesn’t he,” -she said calmly, as they stood beside the window -with their arms about each other’s waists. But -her heart was beating faster, for she knew what -his coming meant. She knew that in his dingy -old wagon he was accustomed to make long trips -on the Kentucky side of the river, ostensibly selling -his wares in villages and at farms, but picking up, -whenever opportunity offered, some fugitive slave -and concealing him in a vacant space in the center,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">[168]</span> -around which the boxes and packages were carefully -arranged. Then he would cross the river -at the nearest ferry and put the runaway into the -charge of an Underground “station.” Or, sometimes, -he would remain for months at a time in the -neighborhood of one or another of the Underground -routes through Ohio, apparently selling his -stock of notions, but really conveying the fleeing -slaves from one station to another.</p> - -<p>Rhoda knew from her father that the people -engaged in the Underground work considered him -one of the safest of the “conductors.” The commonplace -character of his occupation and his -eccentricities, which Dr. Ware told her were mainly -assumed in order that he might appear all the more -innocent, had proved so efficient a disguise as to -prevent, even in pro-slavery communities, the least -suspicion of his real business.</p> - -<p>Word had come that afternoon that the expected -half-dozen fugitives had safely reached the Kentucky -shore and would cross the river in a rowboat -after dark. Chad Wallace ate supper with -the Ware household and entertained them with -stories of his travels told with so many touches -of eccentric humor that he kept the table in a -breeze of laughter. Jeff Delavan, who was to leave -for his home the next day, enjoyed them so much -that he invited the peddler if he ever journeyed -as far south as Lexington to drive on to Fairmount,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">[169]</span> -where he would be glad to see him and -listen to more of his amusing stories.</p> - -<p>On the veranda after supper Charlotte begged -Wallace for some of his funny dances, and he did -negro shuffles and antics and sang negro melodies -down the front walk to the gate. There he kept -up the entertainment, interspersing the negro songs -with doggerel of his own composition, until a delighted -audience of children, young people and a -few of their elders had gathered. Finally, waving -his old hat at them, he walked away, breaking into -a song that was much heard in those days at anti-slavery -meetings:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="first2">“Then lift that manly right hand, bold plowman of the wave,</div> -<div class="verse">Its branded palm shall prophesy ‘Salvation to the Slave!’”</div> -</div></div> - -<p>Jeff Delavan, listening on the veranda, started -angrily, the amused smile died from his face and -his brows knit in a frown. The tenor voice, still -surprisingly good, though somewhat cracked by -age, rang back from down the street as the slender, -wiry figure disappeared in the dusk:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="first2">“Hold up its fire-wrought language that whoso reads may feel</div> -<div class="verse">His heart swell strong within him, his sinews change to steel.”</div> -</div></div> - -<p>“Is he that sort of a crank?” Jeff exclaimed in -a low voice to Mrs. Ware, who sat beside him. “If -he is, I don’t care about his coming to Fairmount.”</p> - -<p>“There’s no harm in Chaddle Wallace,” she -responded assuringly. “He isn’t much more than<span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">[170]</span> -half-witted, and nobody ever takes seriously anything -he says or does. But he has this quaint vein -of humor, so that people are always glad to see -him and hear him talk. He loves music, too, but -I don’t suppose he cares at all about the meaning -of the words. As for that abolition thing, why, -he’s just as likely to break into ‘Dixie’ and sing it -with just as much gusto. Oh, no, Jeff, Chad Wallace -is a harmless creature!”</p> - -<p>It was some hours later and the house was -dark, save for a light in Dr. Ware’s office, when -Rhoda, watching at her bedroom window, discerned -some shapes in the darkness hurrying up -the hill. As they emerged into the dim circle of -light from the lantern at their east gate, she saw -that it was Chad Wallace and his little band of -runaway slaves. Softly she ran downstairs to admit -them into the office. Her father was there, -but asleep on the lounge. With the utmost caution, -walking on tiptoe and speaking only in whispers, -she and Lizzie brought into the office their supper -of bread and meat and hot coffee and in half an -hour they were ready to start again upon their way. -As they stole silently out of the house Dr. Ware -bundled three of them into his carriage, which Jim -had ready at the gate, and the other three were -quickly concealed in the peddler’s wagon. With -even less of noise than was usually occasioned by -the physician’s response to a night call, the party -set forth on its journey to the next station.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">[171]</span>Hurriedly extinguishing the lights and locking -the doors, Rhoda stole back to her room and leaning -from her window listened to the distant sound -of wheels for assurance that, so far, all was well. -Her heart beat high, as it always did after they -had passed successfully through one of these night -episodes. For she knew the never-ceasing danger -that the fugitive might have been followed and -trailed to their house. All along the southern -border of the state there were numbers of men, -from both sides of the river, who spent most of -their time hunting runaway slaves, for the sake of -the rewards for their capture. She and her father -were well aware that their succoring of fugitives -might be interrupted at any moment by the entrance -of the United States marshal and his band -of armed men, with consequent arrest, trial, and -imprisonment.</p> - -<p>The words that the peddler had sung were running -insistently through her brain and as she lighted -her candle she softly hummed:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="first2">“Hold up its fire-wrought language that whoso reads may feel</div> -<div class="verse">His heart swell strong within him, his sinews change to steel.”</div> -</div></div> - -<p>“Yes, that’s just it,” she nodded to her reflection -in the mirror, as she placed her hand against her -heart. “That’s just how it makes me feel whenever -I think of any of the horrible things that -slavery means.”</p> - -<p>She knew the history of the incident that had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">[172]</span> -given to the Quaker poet inspiration for the lines—the -branding by a southern court with the letters -“S. S.”—“slave stealer”—of the captain of a -little coastwise vessel for attempting to carry some -slaves from Florida to the Bahamas and freedom -under English law. Holding up her own long, -slender hand with knitted brows and lips compressed -she gazed at the palm, as if trying to -imagine how it would seem to feel the red-hot -iron searing her own flesh. Then with a disdainful -gesture she threw out her arm, her head high and -eyes shining. “They may brand me on my palms -and my cheeks and my forehead too if they like—what -would that be beside this work!”</p> - -<p>Counting on her fingers she murmured, “This -makes twenty-five we’ve sent on to liberty—and in -such a little time! Oh, we’re helping the slaves, -and oh, please God”—she dropped on her knees -beside her bed with her face in her hands, “please -God, we’re doing something to help kill slavery!”</p> - -<p>At the breakfast-table the next morning Delavan -asked concerning the entertaining peddler and -was told that he must have made an early start, as -Jim on his first errand to the stables had reported -his wagon already gone.</p> - -<p>“Does he travel at night?” the young man -asked. “Sometime in the night, when I wakened -after my first sleep, I thought I heard his wagon -leaving the barn.”</p> - -<p>Rhoda hastened to say that perhaps it was her<span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">[173]</span> -father’s carriage he had heard, as he had had to -make a night trip. Charlotte, chancing to look at -her sister as Delavan asked his question, thought -that Rhoda started and changed color ever so little. -Immediately her alert mind began to wonder why, -and she fixed her eyes sharply upon her sister’s -face. Rhoda felt her gaze and endeavored to -change the subject quickly in order to ward off the -insistent questions which it would be like Charlotte -to begin to ask. But at that moment Bully Brooks -came unexpectedly to her assistance. Passing -under her chair he emerged from beneath her skirt -and playfully leaped at a bit of string on the -floor. Charlotte saw him and, remembering certain -kittenish tricks which he had not yet grown -too old to play beneath her own hoopskirts, she -smiled knowingly at her sister and dropped the -subject from her thought.</p> - -<p>Later in the day Jefferson Delavan took his departure, -and under his escort Mrs. Ware and Charlotte -went down the river to Cincinnati. Since -their argument on election day Rhoda had given -him no opportunity to renew his love siege. Nevertheless, -her heart was like lead in her breast, -now that he was really going, and she was afraid -to trust herself alone with him lest she would find -herself saying, “Stay, oh, stay a little longer!” -And yet she felt relief at the thought that the dear -torment would now be lessened, glad that she<span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">[174]</span> -might rest from the keener strife within herself -that his presence provoked.</p> - -<p>When he bade her good-by he held her hand -closely and said, “We’ve not spoken the last word -yet, Rhoda Ware! I’m coming again some day,—though -I hope I won’t be exploded into your -house the next time!”</p> - -<p>Her eyes were serious upon his face, but she -felt her cheeks growing warmer with the pressure -of his hand. She told herself that she ought to -withdraw her own, but afterwards she knew that -she had not even tried to take it out of his clasp. -“You’d better not come,” she said gravely. “What -is the use?”</p> - -<p>“But at least I may come—to see your mother!” -he exclaimed, smiling, and an answering ripple of -mirth drove the gravity from her countenance.</p> - -<p>It was nearly a week after the state elections -before it was known certainly that the Democratic -ticket in Pennsylvania had won, by a narrow -margin, over the candidates upon whom the three -other parties had united. Rhoda listened as her -father, Hardaker, and the two Kimballs discussed -the result. They were gathered around a cheerful -blaze in the sitting-room fireplace, for the evenings -had grown chill. Her mother and Charlotte had -not yet returned.</p> - -<p>“Oh, we’ve lost,” said Dr. Ware calmly, “and -among ourselves we may as well admit it, though<span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">[175]</span> -of course we’ll keep up a hopeful appearance in -public.”</p> - -<p>But Hardaker was more buoyant. “There’s -hope yet,” he insisted. “Pennsylvania has always -reversed her state victory at a following presidential -election. And there’s no reason to suppose -that she’ll do otherwise this time. I still -believe we’re going to win.”</p> - -<p>Rhoda saw her father suddenly compress his lips -and throw a quick glance around their little circle. -“To tell the truth,” he said slowly in a low tone, -“just here among ourselves, though I wouldn’t admit -it outside, I hope we are defeated this time.”</p> - -<p>The rest started with surprise and Walter Kimball -exclaimed, “For God’s sake, Dr. Ware! What -do you mean?”</p> - -<p>“Frémont is not the man we need. He hasn’t -the capacity, he hasn’t the strength of character to -meet the crisis the country would have to face if he -should be elected. He’s served a good purpose -in this campaign—he’s created enthusiasm and -stimulated the growth of Republican sentiment. -But that’s all he’s good for.”</p> - -<p>“Well, we’ve made a marvelous showing, anyway,” -said Hardaker in a triumphant tone, “and -we’ve got the South scared and their northern allies -shaking in their boots over the safety of their pet -institution. In another four years,” he straightened -up, his eyes glowing, and went on in a voice -of jubilant prophecy, “we’ll sweep the country<span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">[176]</span> -and show the South that there’s got to be an end -of slavery!”</p> - -<p>“Yes, we’ll do it next time, if we haven’t this!” -exclaimed Lewis Kimball with enthusiasm. “But, -as Dr. Ware says, we’ll have to have the best man -possible to lead the procession. Who’ll it be? -Frémont again? Seward? Governor Chase? -What do you think, doctor?”</p> - -<p>Rhoda watched her father anxiously as he gazed -into the fire. “No, not Frémont—heaven forbid!” -he began slowly. “He has revealed his weakness. -Governor Chase is with us, heart and soul, but I’m -afraid he isn’t quite big enough. Seward?—Perhaps, -if he hasn’t proved too conservative by that -time. Well, we’ll have to work with all our might -during the next four years and trust to God to -raise up some man as a leader who’ll have the wisdom -of Solomon and the backbone of a granite -mountain!”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">[177]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XIV</h2> -</div> - -<p>Almost as much heartened by the result of the -presidential election as if it had been a victory, -Dr. Ware and his friends and political co-workers -in Hillside lost no time in renewing and extending -the work of the campaign.</p> - -<p>“If we have polled such a tremendous vote as -this,” they said, “when the party in many northern -states was no more than a year old, what can we -not do in the next four years?”</p> - -<p>The Rocky Mountain Club, through which they -had carried on the Frémont propaganda, was reorganized -and every member went zealously to -work again to win converts to their faith and add -to their membership. Joshua Giddings, ardent -apostle of the anti-slavery cause, journeyed down -from his home in the Western Reserve during a -recess of Congress and made for them a stirring -speech. To another meeting came Governor Chase -with words of hope and encouragement and practical -advice. And on one memorable night Henry -Ward Beecher roused an overflowing hall to a -pitch of enthusiastic resolution hardly equaled even -during the campaign.</p> - -<p>Rhoda attended the meetings with her father -and shared his zeal in the work the club was doing.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">[178]</span> -She and Mrs. Hardaker, Horace’s mother, and -Marcia Kimball organized an “Anti-Slavery Sewing -Circle” which met at the houses of the members -and made clothing for such of the refugees -as reached the Hillside station ragged and shivering.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Ware knew only in a general way of her -daughter’s interest and work in connection with -this society, and of Rhoda’s connection with the -Underground she knew nothing at all. Deeply -grieved, but not yet despairing, over the girl’s refusal -to marry the son of her old friend, she set -herself to combat, in gentle, unobtrusive ways, -what she believed to be the harmful influence -exerted by her husband over their first-born.</p> - -<p>She talked much with Rhoda about the delightfulness -of plantation life and she dwelt long and -lovingly upon Jeff Delavan’s passionate devotion -and upon his ambition and capacities which, she -was sure, would result in a career of national -renown. Rhoda hearkened with interest, saying -but little in opposition, for her heart had begun to -ache for her mother almost as much as it did for -herself and she shrank from bringing the hurt look -into those gentle eyes any oftener than she found -necessary. But sometimes, when evasion was no -longer possible, she would say, with caresses, and -humble manner:</p> - -<p>“Dear mother, you don’t know how much all -you tell me makes me long for that kind of life<span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">[179]</span> -and surroundings. I think the wish for them must -have been born in me. But, mother, dear mother, -I couldn’t endure them if they meant being a part -of slavery. Perhaps I should feel different about -it if I had been born there, as you were, and had -grown up in it.”</p> - -<p>Dr. Ware knew of the efforts his wife was -making to win Rhoda’s consent and, perceiving -that her arguments and presentations made a strong -appeal to their daughter’s temperament, set himself -to counteract any effect they might have by appeals -to her conscience. But he openly urged no argument -against the marriage, and in all his talk with -her he took it for granted that the question was -settled for good.</p> - -<p>Once he told her the story of Fanny Kemble, -then at the zenith of her fame,—of how, for -love’s sake, she had married a slaveholder, although -herself convinced of the wrongfulness of -slavery, and of how life on the plantation, in close -contact with the system, had filled her with such -loathing that she had not long been able to endure -it.</p> - -<p>“I am very glad, Rhoda,” he added, “that you -were able to appreciate, before it was too late, just -what it would mean to marry into the South’s ‘peculiar -institution.’ You have saved yourself a great -deal of unhappiness.”</p> - -<p>But especially did Dr. Ware have confidence in -anti-slavery work as a preventive of possible weakening<span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">[180]</span> -in his daughter’s determination. To that -end he encouraged her in her sewing-circle activities, -enlisted her help in the sending out of -pamphlets, newspapers and other literature which -was a part of the work of the Rocky Mountain -Club, and entrusted largely to her care the refugee -slaves who sought the shelter of their house.</p> - -<p>Husband and wife said not a word to each other -of their opposing desires. Silence upon the question -of Rhoda and Delavan was a part of their -lifelong habit of ignoring the question of slavery -in their mutual relations. But each felt so much -at stake in their silent struggle that gradually it -forced them apart, and as the winter months wore -on there grew up between them the first alienation -of their married life.</p> - -<p>Rhoda was soon sensible of the growing coldness -between her father and mother and guessed its -cause. Her heart ached over the unhappiness she -had so unintentionally brought about and she spent -much thought and many secret tears upon the endeavor -to find some way out of the intolerable -situation. Sometimes, in her misery over having -brought such disaster into her home, she felt that, -if it would only heal the breach, she could even -sacrifice her scruples against becoming a part of -the system of slavery.</p> - -<p>“But it wouldn’t do any good,” was the conclusion -to which she had always to come. “For if -I were to marry Jeff it would make father bitterly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">[181]</span> -unhappy and he would blame mother for having -influenced me to give way. And as long as I don’t -marry him mother will keep on feeling that it is -father’s fault and being angry with him because -of it.”</p> - -<p>The hiding place for runaway slaves was completed -during the stay of Mrs. Ware and Charlotte -in Cincinnati, in October. It was a little, -narrow room, or cell, long enough for a man to -stretch himself at length on the floor and high -enough for him to sit upright on a bench. On -three sides and across the top, cords of wood for -the winter fires were stacked in orderly array. But -on the third side, containing the entrance, where -there was only a little space between the room and -the back wall of the shed, the wood was piled -irregularly. From any but a very searching eye -these apparently haphazard sticks would conceal -the tiny, boarded structure, while in a moment they -could be thrown aside and passage in or out made -easy. Within, a pile of straw and some old quilts -and carriage rugs made a bed comfortable enough, -save on the worst of winter nights, for those who -had seldom known a better.</p> - -<p>If a wayfarer gave the four signal knocks on a -night too bitterly cold for him to be housed in -the woodpile shelter Rhoda, into whose charge her -father had given most of the work of conducting -their “station,” risked discovery by making some -arrangement for him within the house. Once,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">[182]</span> -when the traveler was a man alone, she bedded -him for the rest of the night on the lounge in the -office, until early morning, when Jim hurried him -to the woodshed. Another time, when the suppliants -were a husband and wife and little child, -a bed was improvised for them in Jim and Lizzie’s -room.</p> - -<p>But, zealously absorbed though she was in this -work and convinced that it was righteous and -would have a good result, Rhoda was never free -from twinges of conscience because it was being -carried on without her mother’s knowledge. “It -is her home and it isn’t fair for her not to know -about it,” she thought, time after time, as the -winter went by. “Of course, she wouldn’t like it -and it would make her most unhappy to know -about it, and it is very dear in father to want to -save her the pain of knowing. I know it’s right -for us to do it—we must— Oh, dear! It’s just -another of these dreadful knots of right and -wrong all mixed up that the North and South have -tangled themselves into! And slavery is at the -bottom of it all,—and slavery is the thing we must -get rid of—tear it all out—no matter—no matter -who is hurt!”</p> - -<p>The winter months, with their likelihood of -cold and storms, greatly lessened the Underground -traffic. But even so, rarely a week went by without -the coming of at least one dark-faced runaway -from the South, trusting to find, at “the white<span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">[183]</span> -house on the top of the hill with a lantern at the -gate,” shelter, food, and help for the next stage -of his journey.</p> - -<p>For Rhoda it was a busy winter and its weeks -sped by rapidly until the warming sun brought -promise that the spring was already on her way. -Then there came a night of cold and blustering -wind with dashes of rain. It was near daylight -when Rhoda was roused from sound sleep by Lizzie, -who was bending over her bed and softly -calling her name. A fugitive was downstairs, tired -out and wet to the skin.</p> - -<p>The runaway was a young mulatto, scarcely -more than a lad, who had absconded from his -owner, a horse dealer in a Kentucky town, because -he had learned that he was about to be sold to a -trader who was collecting a party of negroes for -the owner of a Louisiana cotton plantation. He -was already planning to earn enough money in -Canada to buy “free papers” for his mother, who -was owned by a merchant in the same town. But -he was oppressed by the fear that she might be -sold “down south” before he would be able to -rescue her. From her box of clothing, kept on -hand for such emergencies, Rhoda gave him new, -dry garments, he was fed and warmed, and then -taken to the woodshed shelter where, since he was -so wearied, he was left to rest and sleep through -all the next day.</p> - -<p>Notwithstanding her many activities and her<span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">[184]</span> -zeal for the anti-slavery cause, Jeff Delavan was -never absent long from Rhoda’s mind, nor did she -even try to banish him from her thoughts. Every -now and then came a long letter from him which -she read and re-read and pondered over, and finally -answered at equal length. These letters she -frankly read, with now and then a reservation, to -her mother, who, as the months went by, began to -hope that finally she and Jeff together would overcome -the girl’s resolution. Rhoda entered into -the social gaieties of the town much less that -winter than had formerly been her custom. Her -days were so fully occupied and the nights were -so likely to bring responsibility that she was reluctant -to leave her post. Moreover, since she -had become so much absorbed in anti-slavery work, -social pleasures had for her less attraction. Charlotte -gibed at her frequently on this account.</p> - -<p>“You’re no better than an old maid already, -Rhoda,” she complained that same morning when -the mulatto boy was sleeping in the woodshed. -They were working together, dusting and tidying -the big, bright living-room. Charlotte had been -to a party the night before with Billy Saunders -and his sister Susie, who was her particular friend. -But it had taken much coaxing of her mother, with -a final appeal to her father’s indulgence, to win a -reluctant consent for her to go without the watchful -care of her elder sister.</p> - -<p>“Really, I think it’s unkind of you to stay at<span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">[185]</span> -home so much when you know mother doesn’t like -me to go without you.”</p> - -<p>“But she let you go last night.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, because father asked her to. But she -didn’t want to do it.” Charlotte paused in her -work and regarded her sister with brown eyes -sparkling. “Say, Rhoda,” she giggled, “do you -suppose father would have sided with me if he’d -known about—Horace, last fall?”</p> - -<p>Rhoda laughed, then drew her face into admonishing -seriousness. “Aren’t you ever going to -be ashamed of yourself about that, Charlotte? -You ought to be!”</p> - -<p>“Indeed I’m not! And I’ll do it again some -day, if you don’t quit being such an old maid and -sticking at home so much!”</p> - -<p>“I guess Horace would know better another -time.”</p> - -<p>“Well, he’s not the only one!” Charlotte tossed -her head and her saucy countenance twinkled with -mischief. Rhoda noted her expression and wondered -what it might portend, but said nothing. “If -you’re not going to marry Jeff Delavan,” she went -on, “it’s time somebody else did! The idea of -letting such a fine young man, with a beautiful old -estate like Fairmount, pine away in single misery!”</p> - -<p>“Jeff is free to marry any one he likes, who’ll -have him.”</p> - -<p>“Who’ll have him! The idea! Rhoda, I never -heard of such a simpleton as you are! Well, if<span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">[186]</span> -you’re determined to be an old maid, after such a -chance as that, you don’t deserve a bit of sympathy, -no matter what happens.”</p> - -<p>Charlotte pursed her lips to the tune of “Comin’ -thro’ the Rye” and started toward the door. “Jeff -was exceedingly nice to me on the boat going down -to Cincinnati,” she threw back with a bright glance -over her shoulder.</p> - -<p>“Jeff is a gentleman and is always very courteous -and attentive to ladies.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, is he?” was Charlotte’s response with a -significant intonation. “Well, I’m awfully tired of -all the young men in Hillside and—Horace isn’t -the only one, Rhoda!” she ended in her most teasing -accents as she danced away, waving her duster.</p> - -<p>In spite of all her efforts to drive it away, a dull -ache settled in Rhoda’s breast as she thought over -Charlotte’s words. She felt sure that behind them -lay some intention of more moment than were that -young lady’s ordinary vagaries. As she had so -often done before, she told herself sharply that she -had no right to stand in Charlotte’s way, that if -she did not intend to marry Jefferson Delavan she -ought not to try to hold his love. And her heart -answered back triumphantly that Jeff knew very -well he could not hope to make her his wife and -that if he nevertheless chose to remain faithful to -her she could not be blamed.</p> - -<p>As she straightened the piano cover and set -the chairs against the wall Rhoda’s lips curved in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">[187]</span> -a proud little smile at the thought that his love -for her was strong enough, her attraction for him -potent enough, to hold his heart thus steadily -against her constant refusal of his wish. For herself, -she knew that she would never marry any one -else. But it was different, she told herself, with -a man. Naturally, she reflected, no one could -expect him to remain true very long to a girl who -told him “no” over and over again, and it would -be no more than any man would be likely to do if -he consoled himself with some other girl’s love. -It would be much harder to bear, she confessed -to herself, if that girl should be her own sister -than if she were some far-away being who would -take Jeff entirely out of her life and leave him and -their unfortunate love a mere memory.</p> - -<p>The thought of such an ending of their romance, -wherein she would be compelled to see her sister in -the place which by right of love ought to be her -own, made more insistent the ache in her heart and -presently drove her upstairs to lock her door and -take from her bureau the box tied with white ribbon. -A number of letters lay in it now, beneath the -faded rose. She took them out, caressingly, turning -each one over in her hands, noting its date, -glancing with soft eyes at its closely written pages. -Then she began to read them as carefully as if she -had not already pored over them a dozen times. -For the most part they were arguments in defense -of the institution of slavery and the interests of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">[188]</span> -his section. But these were interspersed with -items of personal interest, little accounts of what -he and his sister were doing, comments upon the -duties and the pleasures of their life, and now and -then an audacious mention, which would make -Rhoda at first frown and then smile tenderly, of -some holiday they would make or something they -would do when she should be installed as mistress -at Fairmount. But evidently her lover was hoping -to win her by appeals to her intelligence, by trying -to convince her that the ideals which he and his -section cherished were righteous and desirable.</p> - -<p>“I do not yet understand,” she read in the latest -letter, still unanswered, “how any one possessing -a nature as noble and upright as I know yours -to be can yet engage in that work in which you told -me you glory so much. (I refer to the assisting of -runaway slaves). I do not see how you can reconcile -the deliberate breaking of the laws of your -country and the taking of other people’s property -with the dictates of a scrupulous conscience. But -I am well assured that you would not engage in this -course if you did not believe it to be thoroughly -honorable and right. And therefore I merely -accept the fact and marvel at it.”</p> - -<p>“The negro is on a moral and intellectual plane -so much lower than the white man,” met her eyes -in another letter, “that it is evident he was designed -by an all-wise God to be the white man’s -servitor, just as are the other domestic animals.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">[189]</span> -The Almighty meant the white man to use him -for his own benefit in order that he might the more -easily mount to higher spheres of cultivation and -achievement. Between the races there is a natural -relation, ordained by God himself when he created -the black so much inferior to the white, and -we are but carrying out His decrees when we embody -that natural, heaven-declared superiority and -inferiority into the legal relation of master and -slave.”</p> - -<p>Presently her attention was attracted by farther -development of the same theme in a more recent -missive: “The idea that it is possible for the -negro to profit by civilization, to advance or develop, -is a monstrous delusion, held only by a few -people at the North who know nothing about his -real character. To attempt to force him into -channels of life and into efforts for which he is -by nature unfitted, as they are bent on doing, would -be to turn the natural order of things topsy-turvy -and bring destruction upon the whole nation. For -a free Negrodom in the midst of our republic -would swamp it in savagery.”</p> - -<p>Over the concluding page of the last letter she -pored thoughtfully, stopping now and then to consider -again the ideas it contained. For she could -not deny to herself the seductive appeal of the aims -it set forth, whatever she thought of the arguments -upon which they were based. Interested though -she was in these lines, she yet remembered to keep<span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">[190]</span> -her hand over the bottom of the page. She knew -what was there, but she knew too that if she hid -it from eyes that would be drawn in that direction -it would leap at her, when suddenly disclosed, with -a fresh thrill of happiness.</p> - -<p>“In this beautiful Southland,” she read, “we are -working out what will prove to be the crowning -glory of civilization. Here man, free to reach his -highest possible development, enjoying political -liberty, delivered by the divine institution of slavery -from the hampering, benumbing effects of -labor, surrounded by comfort, beauty, affluence, -can produce the finest fruits of human effort. Here -a refined and beautiful social order is being established, -learning encouraged, chivalrous feeling and -living made possible, womanhood reverenced, all -intellectual achievement honored and sought after, -and here letters and art will flourish as they have -not flourished anywhere on the face of the earth -since the Christian era began. Here will it be -possible, and here only in all the world, for a -modern Greece to grow into the fulness of beautiful -flower. Here poets and artists and orators -and statesmen and men of science and women, -whose beauty and grace and talent will make them -social queens as powerful as were the ladies of the -French salons, will be appreciated and honored -and find it possible to reach their finest, fairest -development. Here in the new world, in our own -native land, will be made possible a reincarnation<span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">[191]</span> -of all that ‘glory that was Greece, and grandeur -that was Rome,’ as our own lamented southern -poet has so beautifully sung.”</p> - -<p>Thus far she read, and then, lifting her eyes -from the page, looked steadily away for a moment. -A soft and tender light shone in their -gray depths as, smiling gently, she dropped them -again upon the page and removed her concealing -hand.</p> - -<p>“Is it not a glorious prospect, and is it not worth -while, my own dear heart, to have some share in -bringing about so grand a consummation? What -better can I do in the world than to help my beloved -South to maintain and extend her social order -in which the negro, a mere animal, does the work -for which he is fitted and to which he was appointed -by the Creator, and the white man, created -by God in His own image, is left unhampered to -develop his own God-given talents and so produce -such splendid results? But I am lonely, my dear -one, and I long always for the presence and the -companionship of the mate God made for me. -Rhoda, darling, do not be cruel any longer! Tell -me I can come and claim her! Always, your friend -and lover, Jefferson Delavan.”</p> - -<p>For a little while Rhoda sat gazing at those -closing lines, and then, with a sigh, she prepared -to write her answer. She made several beginnings -that did not suit her and tossed the pages to one -side. “Dear Friend Jeff,” she finally wrote. “Concerning<span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">[192]</span> -what you say about my doing things that -are contrary to law, I must tell you that when men -make laws that outrage every sense of right and -justice in my own heart then I think that to disobey -them is the only right and honorable course. -The law of God is higher than the law of man. -The law of God commands us to help the needy, -to succor the oppressed, to aid the wayfarer, to -deal justly by all men. That is what I have been -doing and what I shall continue to do, although I -break a whole houseful of man’s unjust and wicked -laws.”</p> - -<p>She worked on through his letter, seriously answering -an argument here, gaily deriding a point -there, now displaying a hint of tenderness in some -inquiry concerning his welfare, and again replying -with vivacious but evasive sallies to personal remarks -in which the lover seemed to overbalance -the friend, until at last she came to the closing -page. Then she laid down her pen and read it -over again, realizing fully the enthusiasm, ambition -and youthful energy which stirred and fed -his devotion to this ideal of his section, and feeling -also to the depths of her soul how completely it -parted them. Her lips were trembling and her -eyes dim with tears as she took up her pen again.</p> - -<p>“I will not deny,” she wrote, “that the picture -you draw of a South in which men and women -would make the highest and finest kind of civilization, -is very attractive to me. Or, rather, it<span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">[193]</span> -would be if your beautiful social order were not -rooted in the hideous slime of slavery. I cannot believe -that it would endure, or that it would be anything -but a curse to the world as long as beneath -it were the groans, the chains, the unpaid toil and -misery of so many thousands of other men and -women unfortunate enough to have been born with -black skins. It will never be possible for you to -claim me as long as you are a part of such a -system. But I hope you will always remember -me as your truest friend, Rhoda Adeline Ware.”</p> - -<p>She always signed her name thus in her letters to -him, although she never used her middle name -elsewhere, because it was a token of their mothers’ -friendship and so it seemed to her to belong -specially to their intercourse and to give to it a shy -little fragrance of exclusion, of separateness from -everything else.</p> - -<p>But when she had finished she pushed it all aside -and dropped her face on her arm and her whole -body trembled with a long, deep sob. Her heart -was answering the call of his, which she had heard -and refused to heed, through every line of his letters. -They were so far apart, their faces were set -toward such hostile ideals! And yet across that -deep gulf their spirits clamored and their bodies -yearned for presence, for companionship, each for -its mate. Through a blur of tears she took up -her pen and groped for a fresh sheet of paper.</p> - -<p>“Oh, Jeff, Jeff,” her pen was flying across the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">[194]</span> -page, “how will it be possible to endure this separation -longer? Surely it is wrong for people who -love as we do to tear themselves apart like this. -I cannot endure it, and yet I cannot consent. Come -then, and carry me away in spite of myself.” Ah, -it was a relief to give way to her feelings, to -write the things she longed to say, even though -she did not intend that he should ever read them. -The pain in her face, the drawn look of mental -suffering, began to fade out of it. “Tie my feet -and my arms, if you must, so that I cannot run -from you. Stop my lips with kisses, so that I -cannot say I will not go. Take me in your arms -and carry me away, anywhere, but do not let me -deny our love any longer.”</p> - -<p>It was the cry of the primitive woman, whose -sane instinct for the strong mate lives on through -all the thousand and one denials and perversions of -civilization. From the days when courtship was -seizure, and first choice belonged to the strongest, -has the wish to be won in spite of herself lived on -in the heart of woman. It has been buried deep -and ever deeper beneath the accruing refinements -of humanity, and forced to find dwarfed expression -in the subterfuges with which the civilized -woman evades and refuses her wooer, that finally -she may make pretense of her unwilling capture. -But now, from beneath the depths of a million -years, it rose suddenly to the surface of a strong -woman’s heart and overpowered all her strength.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">[195]</span>Her hand was shaking and her bosom heaving -as she put the sheet to one side. There was a -knock at the door and Charlotte’s voice called -out: “Rhoda! Please let me have some of your -paper. I’ve used mine all up.”</p> - -<p>Opening her door a mere crack she handed out -paper and envelopes, for she had no wish to give -her sister’s inquiring mind a chance to speculate -upon the reason for her agitated countenance. But -it was only a moment more, with a little resolute -drawing in of her breath and a pressure of her -lips, and a minute or two before the mirror, until -her composure was restored. Then she heard her -mother in the hall: “Come, Rhoda! Come, Charlotte! -Dinner’s ready!”</p> - -<p>“Yes, mother, in just a minute,” she called back. -Jeff’s letters were quickly laid away in their box. -Then she gathered up the sheets of her own letter -and hurriedly folded them into the envelope, which -she addressed and sealed. For after dinner she -was going to a meeting of the anti-slavery sewing -circle. The discarded sheets she twisted together -and tossed into the fire.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">[196]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XV</h2> -</div> - -<p>At the dinner table Mrs. Ware’s eyes rested -with loving anxiety upon her first-born. “She is -surely growing thinner and paler,” was her motherly -thought. “Poor child! If she would only -give up to her love how much happier she would -be! It’s just eating out her heart, I know it is! -If Jeff would take hold of her as Amos did of -me—” and she glanced across the table at her -husband, who in the grave responsibility of his -middle age seemed far enough removed from the -impetuous and masterful lover of her girlhood.</p> - -<p>Quickly trailing upon the thought came recollection -of that ride of which she had told Rhoda -and Jeff, and then a wave of memories of his -ardent courtship swept over and softened her heart. -The coldness and resentment of the last few -months were buried, for the moment, underneath -their warmth and color, and her eyes sought his -face again with more of fondness in their expression -than he had seen there in many a day. Then -her mind went back to her daughter.</p> - -<p>“But I reckon that wouldn’t answer with Rhoda, -after all,” she told herself. “She’s so different. -But I really believe she’s beginning to feel more -like giving up. The way she looked when she<span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">[197]</span> -read his last letter to me and when we talked about -him yesterday—yes, she’s surely finding out how -much she really cares. If Jeff were to come up -again now, perhaps—I’ll write to him and tell -him to come!”</p> - -<p>The persuasion that perhaps the matter would -come out all right added to the good feeling toward -her husband already induced by her memories, and -when they rose from the table she moved to his side -and looked up into his face with a little glow of -tenderness and affection in her own. With quick -response he rested a hand upon her shoulder.</p> - -<p>“Which way are you going this afternoon, -Amos?” she asked.</p> - -<p>“First to the Winslows, after I keep my office -hour. Harriet is sick.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, poor little thing! I’ll go over with you. -I must write a letter now, but if you’ll call me when -you’re ready to go I’ll come down at once and we -can drive past the post-office.”</p> - -<p>It was the first time in many weeks that she had -wished to drive with him and he stooped and -kissed her, saying, “I’ll be glad to have you, -Emily.”</p> - -<p>With her letter in her pocket Rhoda hurried -away, past the post-office, to the meeting of the -sewing circle, at Mrs. Hardaker’s home. The -members had planned to put in a particularly busy -afternoon, for the coming of spring would be sure -to bring with it an increase in the number of refugees<span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">[198]</span> -and they must have ready plenty of clothing -suitable for warm weather.</p> - -<p>Charlotte went back to her room and was soon -absorbed in a composition that seemed to perplex -her much. She wrote a few lines or words upon -sheet after sheet, then frowned and shook her -head and tore up and threw aside one after another -until her table was littered with them. But at -last, after much knitting of her brows and tapping -with her gold pencil, she appeared satisfied with -what she had done and copied it, in a few lines -across the middle of the page, upon a sheet of -the paper borrowed from Rhoda.</p> - -<p>As she read it again, her eyes twinkled and her -chin tilted to its most rebellious angle. “I reckon -mother would put her foot down hard if she knew -about it,” she said to herself, and then pursed her -lips and whistled a few notes. “And Rhoda would -think it a very shocking thing for me to do. But I -don’t care, I’m going to. I reckon father wouldn’t -mind—indeed, I’m sure he’d be pleased. Yes, -father would be glad enough if Jeff should— So -it’s all right.” She giggled softly and the look of -amusement deepened on her face as she addressed -the envelope.</p> - -<p>“There!” she exclaimed as she sealed the letter, -“now there’ll be some fun!” Springing to her -feet she danced about the room, stopping in front -of the mirror after a few steps to practise tilting<span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">[199]</span> -her hoopskirts, without seeming to do so, at a -higher angle than she had ever dared before.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Ware, starting downstairs, in bonnet and -shawl, with her letter in her pocket, heard a shriek -from Charlotte’s room. “What’s the matter, -dearie?” she called in quick alarm, and opened -the door.</p> - -<p>Charlotte was standing on a chair in front of -her closet door, her skirts drawn up to her knees, -her two plump calves and slender ankles and trim -little feet trembling with the agitation which shrilled -in her voice: “Oh, mother, there’s a mouse in -my closet!”</p> - -<p>“Oh, is that all, honey! My heart was in my -throat, for I thought you must have half-killed -yourself. Get Bully Brooks and shut him up in -your room. He’s getting to be a fine mouser. -Dress yourself, honey, and look for him. I’d -bring him up for you, but your father’s waiting -for me and I must hurry. Good-by, dear. I’ll -be back in two or three hours.”</p> - -<p>With anxious haste and many apprehensive -glances at the harboring closet, now closed and -locked, Charlotte dressed herself and hurried down -stairs. “Do you know where Bully Brooks is?” -she asked of Lizzie in the kitchen.</p> - -<p>“Dat good-fo’-nuthin’ cat?” teased Lizzie, -with a broad grin at Charlotte’s pantomimic threats -of displeasure and retaliation. “I done see him -jess now streakin’ out to’d de bahn wif his tail in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">[200]</span> -de air, like he was totin’ a flag at de head of a -percession.”</p> - -<p>Charlotte sped down the walk to the barn and -looked all about and called softly, “Bully Brooks! -Bully Brooks!” The door leading from the barn -into the woodshed was open and she thought, -“Maybe he’s gone in there.”</p> - -<p>“My! What a lot of wood we’ve used this -winter!” she said to herself. “The last time I -was in here, last fall, the shed was nearly full. -And now there’s only that pile in the middle.” She -moved toward the back of the inclosure, her gaze -searching the corners, then falling upon the irregularly -piled sticks at the back of the neat cords.</p> - -<p>“There he is!” she exclaimed softly, as she saw -a gray tail sticking out from between the logs. -Speedily she bore down upon him. “Here, ‘yo’ -good-fo’-nuthin’ cat,’” she muttered, “come out -here.” She made a grab for his tail, but he -whisked it suddenly aside, and went on, threading -his way between the chunks of wood, his head -stretched out and nostrils working.</p> - -<p>“Oh, you think you smell something, do you? -Well, just come right along with me and see what -you can smell in my room.” But she could not -quite reach him, and she began tossing to one side -the smaller sticks. In a moment her eyes fell upon -the boarding of the hidden room. “What can -that be?” she wondered, pausing in her work. -With Charlotte, to have her curiosity aroused was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">[201]</span> -only to fire her determination to have it assuaged. -So now she eagerly threw out of the way the remaining -pieces and saw plainly the tiny house. -“There’s a door in it!” she whispered, and straight-way -stepped up and peeped in.</p> - -<p>There she saw the negro runaway asleep upon -the straw pallet. On the bench were the remains -of his dinner, with pans and plates and cups which -she recognized as having come from their own -cupboard.</p> - -<p>For a moment she stared, bewildered. Then, -as the boy stirred in his sleep, she picked up Bully -Brooks, shut the door softly and hurried back to -her room. Her thoughts darted at once to the -heart of the mystery.</p> - -<p>“They’re stealing niggers, that’s what they’re -doing, father and Rhoda! My! It’s worse than -stealing horses, or money!” Her face was hot -with indignation and her eyes blazing. “They -ought to be arrested, even if they are my father -and sister. Why, it might be one of Jeff’s niggers -they’re stealing. Just think of it! Nigger thieves! -They ought to be punished—they deserve to go to -prison—and they would, too, if it was known!”</p> - -<p>She stopped in the midst of her fuming as an -idea flashed across her mind. It took her breath -away for a moment. Then she drew back from it -with a little feeling of repugnance. But in a -moment more her busy, resentful thought was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">[202]</span> -hovering around it, experimenting with it, considering -it with more and more of favor.</p> - -<p>“There’s no telling how many slaves they’ve -hidden in there and sent on to Canada. Thousands -of dollars worth, it’s likely. And their -owners just raking the country and spending money -trying to find them. Oh, it’s a shame the way -these black abolitionists act! Father and Rhoda -are just as bad as any of them. Nigger thieves! -O, my! And that nigger out in the woodshed, he -belongs to somebody just exactly the same as if he -was a horse or a cow. He ought to be taken back. -He’s somebody’s property, and it’s wrong and -against the law to steal him, or to help anybody -else to steal him. If I don’t tell somebody that -he’s here, so he can be taken back to his owner, -I’ll be a nigger-thief, just the same as they are.”</p> - -<p>She tied her bonnet under her chin, adjusted her -cape around her shoulders, took a last look in the -glass, and turned toward the door. Her eyes -chanced to fall upon the letter, lying on the table.</p> - -<p>“O, my goodness, I’m about to forget that!” -she exclaimed, seizing the missive. She giggled -and tilted her chin and said aloud, “Yes, I shall, -I shall do it!” Then she touched her lips to the -superscription and airily waved the envelope toward -the south. With another gay little laugh she -tucked it into her pocket. And so it happened -that when the mail-bag left the Hillside post-office<span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">[203]</span> -that afternoon it carried three letters for Jefferson -Delavan.</p> - -<p>As she came out of the post-office Charlotte -found herself face to face with her admirer, Billy -Saunders. “Is Susie at home?” she asked.</p> - -<p>“Yes, and expecting you. Are you going -there?” He turned and walked up the street at -her side. Her cheeks still showed a heightened -color and the fires of her indignation glowed in -her eyes. “You’re looking mighty pretty this -afternoon, Charlotte. What’s happened?”</p> - -<p>“What’s happened, indeed!” Charlotte tossed -her head. “Does there have to be a wedding, or -a funeral, or a steamboat accident before I deserve -a compliment?”</p> - -<p>“No, indeed! You always deserve more compliments -than I have sense enough to think of. -But you look excited, as if something unusual had -happened.”</p> - -<p>Charlotte turned toward him, her heart swelling -with excitement over the momentous secret she -had discovered. At this final moment it was chiefly -the childish need of sharing her knowledge that -urged her to speech. “Say, Billy, can you keep -a secret?”</p> - -<p>“As well as you can, I reckon.”</p> - -<p>“I’ve just got to tell somebody, or I’ll fly into -a thousand pieces!”</p> - -<p>“Don’t do that!” he begged in mock alarm. -“Out with it, and save the pieces!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">[204]</span>“Well, then, there’s a nigger in our woodpile!”</p> - -<p>A flash crossed his face. “What do you mean?” -he ejaculated, stopping short.</p> - -<p>“Just what I say. He’s hid among the wood in -our woodshed. There’s a little house there.”</p> - -<p>“Well—” he hesitated over his answer as they -walked on. “I reckon it’s all right,” he hazarded. -But he was thinking rapidly. Here, in all likelihood, -was the proof for which the pro-slavery -sympathizers had long been watching. Dr. Ware’s -outspoken sentiments and his activity in the anti-slavery -movement had caused them to suspect -he was connected with Underground operations.</p> - -<p>“Are you sure you weren’t dreaming?” he asked -jocularly. “When did you see him and what was -he doing?”</p> - -<p>“Do I usually dream around in the daytime, -Billy Saunders? I saw him about an hour ago and -he was sound asleep. And if you think I don’t -know a nigger when I see one you can go and look -for yourself!”</p> - -<p>They had reached the Saunders gate and he -lifted his hat in farewell. “Remember you’re to -keep that secret,” she called after him, in appeasement -of a sudden compunction.</p> - -<p>“Oh, I can keep a secret as well as you can,” he -laughed back. Secretly a little troubled by his -answer, but saying to herself defiantly, “Well, they -deserve whatever happens, anyway!” she went into<span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">[205]</span> -the house. He quickened his steps to the office of -the United States marshal.</p> - -<p>At the home of Mrs. Hardaker the members of -the anti-slavery sewing circle were busy over their -needles when Rhoda, from her seat near a front -window, saw Horace dash up the street in a buggy. -Springing out, he came up the front walk almost -on a run. He saw her face at the window and -beckoned. She went out and met him at the front -door.</p> - -<p>“Is there any U. G. baggage at your house, -Rhoda?” he asked at once in low, anxious tones.</p> - -<p>“Yes. A young man came late last night and -has been sleeping all day.”</p> - -<p>“Then that’s it! I just now discovered that -Marshal Hanscomb was on the track of something, -and I was afraid it might be there! I’ve got a case -in court that will be called in ten minutes, but I -borrowed this buggy from my client and rushed -over here. Is your father at home?”</p> - -<p>“No. I’ve got to go and get him away.” She -was hurrying into her bonnet and wrap.</p> - -<p>“You’d better let me—”</p> - -<p>“No, no. You can’t leave your case. That -would be too suspicious. I’ll manage it.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t walk home—take this buggy.” They -were already rushing to the gate and he went on -as he assisted her to the seat: “There’s not a minute -to lose. Hanscomb’s getting ready now to -start out with his men.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_206">[206]</span>She was soon in the cross street upon which -backed their row of outbuildings. Here a wide -door gave entrance to the woodshed. It was kept -padlocked and she had to waste a few minutes -finding Jim to unlock the door. The young negro, -dazed by this sudden awakening to danger, was -hustled into the buggy, a small, uncovered, box-seated -vehicle. Rhoda made him double up in -the little space at her feet and covered him with a -carriage rug. Then over her own lap and down -over him she spread an ample robe, which Jim -hastily tucked in at the sides.</p> - -<p>“I’ll try to reach Gilbertson’s with him,” she -said to the faithful black man as the horse sprang -forward at her whip’s touch. She made a détour -around several blocks and struck into the street -leading to the country in the first valley beyond -the house. This lost several minutes at the start, -but she reflected that if the marshal should arrive -in time to see her driving straight away from -the house he might be suspicious enough to make -chase at once. As it was, one of his men, on guard -at their gate, saw her buggy as it turned from a -cross street into the country road, but, at the moment, -thought nothing of it. Looking back, she -saw the men ride up to their gate and knew that -they would search the house.</p> - -<p>“They’ll have their trouble for their pains,” she -thought. “But wasn’t it a narrow chance! You -poor boy, I’m going to save you, anyway!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_207">[207]</span>She wondered what hint had come to the marshal’s -ears, and decided it must have been suspicion -rather than actual knowledge that had brought him -to search their house at this particular time. Most -likely the fugitive had been seen on his way to -their house by some of the many eyes ever on -the alert for such as he, and her father’s reputation -as a strong anti-slavery man and abolitionist had -given Marshal Hanscomb a pretext.</p> - -<p>“But he’ll never think of looking in the woodpile,” -she told herself with a smile of satisfaction. -“That secret is perfectly safe, for nobody knows -it but us and Horace. Our little hiding place -will be as safe as ever, even if they do search the -house!”</p> - -<p>She looked back anxiously from the top of the -high hill, whence the road entered a sparsely -wooded belt of country, and saw that the horses -were still hitched at their side gate. “I’m getting -a good start, even if they do follow me,” she reflected, -“and I guess I can make Gilbertson’s.”</p> - -<p>But the horse was a slow traveler and, although -she urged him constantly with voice and whip, to -Rhoda’s anxious eyes they seemed to cover the -ground at but a snail’s pace. She thought they -must have been on the road nearly an hour when, -from the top of a long, sloping hill, she glanced -backward and saw a party of four mounted men -crossing the rise she had just left behind. She -recognized it at once as Marshal Hanscomb and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_208">[208]</span> -his aids. They were riding at a much faster pace -than her horse could equal and she knew that in -a few minutes they would surely overtake her and, -in all probability, stop her and search the buggy.</p> - -<p>For one brief flash the thought crossed her mind -what that would mean—arrest, trial, and afterward -imprisonment. But that fleeting picture was -instantly gone and in its place came the vision of -the lad at her feet being carried back to scourging -and slavery. As she urged the horse down the hill -at a reckless pace she remembered that he was -about to be sold “down south”—that land of fears -and terrors which to the negroes of the border -states was a doom almost as awful as was the fiery -gulf which threatened the impenitent sinner. It -occurred to her that the hill was the same one -where she had met the slave, Andrew, on that -momentous day of the previous summer.</p> - -<p>“If I can make the bottom, and get him safe -on that path to the cave before they see him— O, -God, help me!” She thought of the boy’s old slave -mother, waiting and trusting for his promised help -to rescue her from bondage, and lashed her horse -again. With a firm hand she held the lines, her -eyes on the road ahead and her touch guiding the -horse along the safest track. With a jerk they -stopped short at the bottom of the hill and she -pulled away the coverings.</p> - -<p>“Get up, quick!” she warned. “They’ve followed -us, and you must hide. Climb that fence—do<span class="pagenum" id="Page_209">[209]</span> -you see that path over there? Run down that—it -will bring you to a thicket of hazel bushes. -Behind them, in the hill, there is a cave. You’ll -be safe there, until I or some one comes for you. -But don’t stir out of it until you hear the word, -‘Canada,’ three times. They’re right behind us—run -fast!”</p> - -<p>He needed no more warning, but was over the -fence and speeding like a deer along the faint -pathway. There was no foliage now to screen his -figure and he would have to get beyond the bend -in the hill, where the path dropped downward -again, before he would be safe from sight. Rhoda -gave one quick backward glance—they had not yet -come into view. The fleeing mulatto reached the -big rock, turned it, and disappeared. With a little -catch in her breath she gathered up her lines, -straightened the carriage robes and urged her horse -forward again. There was no need of haste now, -and the sooner the interview with the marshal was -over the sooner he would go back and leave her -free to bring the boy from his hiding place and go -on her way. So she let the horse slowly climb the -rise, while she heard the pursuing party clattering -down the other slope. Presently they were beside -her.</p> - -<p>“Miss Ware, by authority of the law, I shall -have to search your buggy,” said the marshal’s -voice, at the wheel. One of his men rode to the -horse’s head and seized the bridle.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_210">[210]</span>“What for?” she asked, with well-simulated -surprise.</p> - -<p>“You are under suspicion of concealing in it -a fugitive slave. I know that he was hidden in -your woodshed”—Rhoda’s heart sank and she felt -her eyelids quiver—“as late as this afternoon. But -you got him out before we reached there, and came -out on this road by a roundabout way. We’ve -had our eyes on your father for a long time. And -now I reckon we’ve caught him, and you too!”</p> - -<p>Rhoda looked at him and was able to command -a smile. “Excuse me,” she said politely, “but -how many did you say you thought I had concealed -in this buggy?”</p> - -<p>“Only one,” the marshal answered curtly. “You -can get out if you want to while we examine it.”</p> - -<p>She jumped to the ground and stood by, smiling, -while they took out the rugs and looked under -the seat.</p> - -<p>Disappointed glances passed from one to another. -Evidently, they had felt sure they would -find the missing slave in her buggy. Rhoda took -off her wrap and shook it ostentatiously. “You -see, I haven’t got him concealed about my clothing. -You can search my pocket too, if you like,” she -added innocently.</p> - -<p>“You’ve beat us this time, young lady,” he responded -angrily, “but we know what your father -is up to, and you with him, and we’ll get you yet.”</p> - -<p>She turned upon him with dignity. “May I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_211">[211]</span> -ask, Mr. Hanscomb, that you will finish your examination -of this little buggy where there is scarcely -room for one, as soon as possible, so that I can -go on. I am on an errand for my father, and I -would like to finish it and get home before dark. -Perhaps you would like to look under the horse’s -collar and split open the whip-stock.”</p> - -<p>The marshal flushed with annoyance. “All -right. You can go on now. But you’d better be -careful about taking in any more niggers.”</p> - -<p>She drove slowly on up the hill and they brought -their horses’ heads together for a conference. She -was trembling with anxiety lest it might occur to -them to search the woodland on the west of the -road, and she wanted to know what they were -going to do before she would have to pass out of -sight down the other side of the hill. To gain -time she dropped her whip, and jumped out to -get it. Then she adjusted a buckle in the harness -and examined a thill strap. A stolen glance let -her see that they were starting back toward the -town.</p> - -<p>But now a new anxiety filled her. Did they -know of the cave? Would they think of it as a -possible hiding place? The cave was such a little -one,—it was of no interest to any one but children—perhaps -they had never heard of it, or had -forgotten it if they had. She longed to look -around and see if they stopped, but she feared to -show interest in their movements, lest she might<span class="pagenum" id="Page_212">[212]</span> -renew their suspicions. Had the boy left footprints -as he ran from the buggy to the fence? She -tried to remember whether the ground there was -hard or muddy, but could recall nothing. In an -agony of apprehension she reached the top of the -hill and started down the descent.</p> - -<p>“I must know, whatever happens,” she presently -said to herself. Stopping the horse she sprang out -and ran back a little way, to where her eyes could -command the opposite hill. The horsemen were -disappearing over its crest. Her knees were shaking -as she hurried back to the buggy, but she pulled -herself together and considered what would be the -best plan to get the fugitive out of the cave and on -to the next station. For she feared to go back -openly now, lest some member of the marshal’s -party might return. A little farther on, she remembered, -was a cross way and striking off from -this, a short distance to the westward, an old wood -road which ended near the cave. “It used to be -there,” she thought anxiously, “but I haven’t been -down it since—oh, I don’t know when! I’ll have -to take chances on its being there yet.”</p> - -<p>But on the cross road she met farmer Gilbertson, -in a big, deep-bedded wagon filled with a load of -loose hay. She told him of her narrow escape.</p> - -<p>“You better drive in and get him in your little -buggy,” he advised, “and I’ll wait out here and -take him home with me, under the hay. It’ll be -safe enough—this road ain’t traveled much.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_213">[213]</span>It was not long until Rhoda was driving homeward -again, deep joy in her heart that the fugitive -had escaped such imminent danger, but wondering -much how the marshal had discovered the secret -of their woodshed.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_214">[214]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XVI</h2> -</div> - -<p>When Mrs. Ware reached home that afternoon -she found Marshal Hanscomb and his men, baffled -and angry, completing their search of the -house.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Hanscomb, what does this mean?” she -demanded.</p> - -<p>“It means that runaway niggers have been making -a hiding place of your house and that we’ve -been barely too late to catch one.”</p> - -<p>“I assure you, Mr. Hanscomb, that nothing -of the sort has been going on in my house. Dr. -Ware’s sympathies, it is true, are with the anti-slavery -cause, but he is not a nigger-stealer.”</p> - -<p>“If you think so, madam,”—there was the hint -of a sneer in his tone—“you’d better go out to the -woodshed and look at that room built into the -middle of your woodpile and see how lately it’s -been occupied.”</p> - -<p>She turned upon him a face of offended dignity. -Her small, plump figure, in its balloon-like skirt, -stiffened with a haughtiness which impressed even -the angry marshal. “I trust, sir, that you have -satisfied yourself there is no one concealed in the -house or on the premises.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_215">[215]</span>“We have, madam, for the present. We happened -to be a few minutes too late.”</p> - -<p>“Then I will bid you good-evenin’.” With a -stately nod she left him, going at once to her own -room, behind whose closed door she remained until -her husband’s return.</p> - -<p>Rhoda and her father, coming from opposite -directions, drove up to their east gate at the same -moment, in the red glow of a March sunset. She -told him hurriedly of the happenings of the afternoon -and of the narrow chance by which she had -finally saved the mulatto lad from recapture. At -the veranda steps Jim met them, with an excited -account of the marshal’s visit and his search of -the house. He evidently knew of the woodshed -hiding place, the man said, for he went to it at -once.</p> - -<p>“Was any one at home?”</p> - -<p>“No, sah, nobody but Lizzie and me. But -Mrs. Ware, she done come before they leave.”</p> - -<p>“Then she knows now,” Rhoda told herself. -“Oh, to think she had to find it out that way!”</p> - -<p>They walked silently down the veranda, avoiding -each other’s eyes, and entered at the front -door. Mrs. Ware was coming down the stairs. -Rhoda stopped short, but her father walked swiftly -past her and held out his hand to his wife. She -could not see his face, but the look on her mother’s -countenance stabbed her to the heart. In it the -girl read resentful inquiry, wounded faith, reproachful<span class="pagenum" id="Page_216">[216]</span> -love. They seemed oblivious of her, -as Mrs. Ware stood looking into her husband’s -face with that hurt look upon her own. She did -not take the hand he held out. Then Rhoda saw -him sweep her close to his side and heard him say -in a choking voice, “Come, Emily!” He led her -into the living-room and closed the door.</p> - -<p>What passed between them there Rhoda never -knew—what confessions of outraged rights, what -heart-barings of living tenderness, what recognitions -of inner imperatives, what renewals of the -bonds of love and trust. She crouched where she -had dropped on the stair step, miserably conscious -that this was the climax of the estrangement over -her between her father and mother, feeling keenly -that it had been her mother’s right to know the use -that was being made of her home, appreciating -her father’s motive in wishing to keep it hidden, -remorseful for the wound her share in it would -deal her mother’s heart, but unable to give up one -jot of her conviction that what she and her father -had been doing had been demanded of them by -the highest laws of God and the most sacred rights -of man.</p> - -<p>In a jumble of thought and feeling, swept by -waves of passionate sympathy and compassion for -both of the two within that closed door, Rhoda -sat huddled on the stairs until her mother came -out. “Mother!” she called, springing up and -holding out her hands.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_217">[217]</span>Mrs. Ware came up and took them, saying simply, -“How cold they are, honey!” and pressed -them to her breast. In the dim light the girl -could see that her face was very pale but that her -eyes were shining with calm happiness.</p> - -<p>“Oh, mother! We both felt that you ought to -know about it—”</p> - -<p>“It’s all right, dear child. I would rather your -father had confided in me from the first—”</p> - -<p>“It wasn’t that he doubted you, mother! Oh, -don’t think that! He knew you would be loyal to -him—but he thought it might give you pain to -know—”</p> - -<p>“Yes, honey, I understand—I appreciate all -that. But don’t you see, dear, I would have liked -to be trusted by my husband, even if it had hurt—a -little?”</p> - -<p>“It was your right to know, mother.”</p> - -<p>“Perhaps I don’t think so much about that as -you would, Rhoda, but—a woman who loves needs -to feel that she is trusted as well as loved. But -it’s all right now. I know how you and your -father feel about it, that you are doing only what -seems to you right, although to me, dear child, it -seems very wrong. I don’t want to know any -more about it than I must, and you mustn’t expect -me to help you in the least, but not for the world, -dearie, would I hinder you and your father from -doing what you think is right.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_218">[218]</span>Rhoda bowed her head upon her mother’s shoulder -whispering, “Dear mother!”</p> - -<p>“Your father and I understand each other better now,” -Mrs. Ware went on in tender tones. -“There has been some misunderstanding between -us about you and Jeff, but this has cleared it all -up, and so I am glad it happened. He has promised -me that he will not try to influence you in -any way against marrying Jeff. So you see now, -dearie, that it is possible, after all, for husband -and wife to live together in love and trust and -happiness, even though they do hold opposite -opinions about slavery!”</p> - -<p>There was a sound of quick, light footsteps -across the veranda and Charlotte came in breezily, -cheeks glowing and eyes sparkling. “What’s the -matter?” she exclaimed. “What’s happened?” -Then sudden recollection came to her of what -probably had happened and of her own share in -it, and a look of confusion crossed her face. -Rhoda saw it and instant suspicion was born in her -mind that here was the medium through which -information had reached the marshal.</p> - -<p>“Sister, was it you?” she asked on the impulse, -her tone gentle but reproachful.</p> - -<p>“Was what me?” Charlotte flared back.</p> - -<p>“I think you know what I mean.”</p> - -<p>Dr. Ware had come out of the living-room and -was standing in the doorway. Charlotte threw at -him a coaxing, appealing glance.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_219">[219]</span>“You’d better tell the truth about it, Charlotte,” -he responded. The girl shrank back a little at his -tone and something of surprise crossed her face. -Never before had he spoken to her with so near an -approach to sternness. His large, calm eyes were -upon her, dispassionate but disapproving. She -could not withstand their compulsion.</p> - -<p>“Well, then, I did,” she exclaimed defiantly, -tossing her head as she took a step forward. “And -I think I did no more than was right and I’m glad -I did it. When people are disobeying the laws -and are criminals, even if they are your own -people—”</p> - -<p>“There, child, that will do,” her father interrupted, -lifting an admonishing hand. “Remember, -please, that you are only eighteen, and that your -father is in no need of moral instruction at your -hands. I understand how you feel about this question -and I am perfectly willing for you to believe -as seems to you right. I expect you to grant the -same privilege to me and to every other member -of my family. And as long as you live under your -father’s roof, my daughter, he has the right also -to expect from you loyalty to his interests. Do -you think I shall have it hereafter?”</p> - -<p>Charlotte burst into tears. In all her saucy -little life no one had ever spoken to her with such -severity. “I only told Billy Saunders,” she sobbed, -“and I told him not to tell!”</p> - -<p>Instantly her father was beside her, patting her<span class="pagenum" id="Page_220">[220]</span> -shoulder, an arm about her waist. “There, there!” -he soothed. “I didn’t suppose you realized what -you were doing. As it happened, no great harm -came of it. Just remember, after this, that it -is not your duty to sit in judgment on my actions. -Then we shall all move along as happily as ever.”</p> - -<p>When Rhoda went to her room and her eyes -fell upon her writing table, sudden misgiving -caught her breath. She had not stopped to make -it tidy, after her letter-writing in the morning, -because of her hurried departure for the sewing -circle, and its unaccustomed disorder brought -sharply to her mind the letter she had written. -And that other sheet—had she destroyed it, as she -meant to do? She looked the table over hastily, -shuffling the clean sheets of paper in her hand. -“How silly!” she thought. “Of course I destroyed -it! I remember, I picked up several sheets together -that I didn’t want, and burned them, and that was -among them!”</p> - -<p>Still, for a moment, the uneasy fear persisted -that perhaps she had put it into her letter. She -burned with shame at the thought that her lover -might read those words. Then with a sudden -vault her mind faced about and she felt herself -almost exulting that at last he might know how -much she cared, that at last, in spite of herself -she had surrendered.</p> - -<p>“If I did send it,” she thought as she sat at<span class="pagenum" id="Page_221">[221]</span> -her window, in the dark, “he will come and I shall -have to give up.”</p> - -<p>Her mother’s words recurred to her: “You see -that it is possible for husband and wife to live together -in love and trust and happiness, even though -they do hold opposite opinions about slavery.” -They would be happy—ah, no doubt about that! -And perhaps, if they were married and constantly -together, she could make Jeff see the wrongs of -slavery. She could point out to him specific instances -of injustice and rouse that side of his conscience -which now seemed to be dead. He had -such a fine, noble nature in all other things—it -was only because he had been brought up in this -belief and had always been accustomed to taking -slavery for granted. With his great love for -her she would surely be able to exert some influence -over him, and she would use it all to one end.</p> - -<p>She knew of other men who had been slaveholders -but, becoming convinced that it was wrong, -had freed their slaves and joined the anti-slavery -ranks. Some, even, worked with the Underground -Railroad. What a splendid thing it would be -if she could win him over to the side of liberty! -For such a result, she told herself, she would be -willing to crucify her conscience for a little while -and be a part of the thing she abhorred.</p> - -<p>She slept that night with a smile on her face -and when she wakened in the morning her first -consciousness was of an unusual lightness and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_222">[222]</span> -happiness in her heart. Then she remembered, -and flushed to her brows.</p> - -<p>“But it was all true,” she whispered. “I didn’t -mean to send it, and I’m sure I didn’t. But I—almost—wish -I had.”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_223">[223]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XVII</h2> -</div> - -<p>When Jefferson Delavan received the mail containing -the three letters from Hillside his lover’s -eye saw at once the envelope bearing the handwriting -of Rhoda Ware. Everything else was -pushed aside and this was hastily torn open. He -turned the sheets over and swept them with a -hungry look, as though he would devour all their -contents at one glance. And so it happened that -before he had read another line his eyes fell upon -the page on which she had poured out her heart, -which she thought she had burned—but almost -wished she had not.</p> - -<p>He had to read it twice before he could believe -that his eyes were not playing him some trick. -Then he sprang up joyously, with a great light in -his face, and ordered his horse. The rest of his -mail, even to Rhoda’s letter, was thrust into his -pocket, while he made ready for immediate -journey. Slaves went scurrying hither and thither, -urged to unaccustomed speed by their master’s -impetuous commands, and in less than half an hour -he was in his saddle.</p> - -<p>He struck across the country on the turnpike -road straight for the Kentucky shore of the Ohio -river opposite Hillside. Quicker time might have<span class="pagenum" id="Page_224">[224]</span> -been possible by the more roundabout route by -railroad to Cincinnati, but his only thought was -that thus he was headed directly toward the white -house on the hill.</p> - -<p>He galloped his horse for an hour or two before -he remembered that it would be the part of wisdom -not to take too much out of it at the start, -laughed aloud as he slowed down, slapped its neck -in sheer joy, and sang lustily the tale of “Lord -Lovell.” Then he remembered, that he had not -read the whole of Rhoda’s letter. He drew it -forth, and was reminded in so doing that he had -other letters in his pocket. But they could wait. -He plunged into hers and read it eagerly through, -dropping the bridle and allowing his horse to take -a slower pace. Now and then he smiled or gave a -little, tender laugh, as he came upon a mirthful -sally, or again he frowned thoughtfully and shook -his head at her argument. And presently he was -staring in bewilderment at the closing paragraph -with its denial of his suit. His heart sank as he -hastily searched out the other sheet for reassurance. -Yes, there it was, and there could be no mistaking -the longing call of her heart that spoke so piteously -through its brief lines.</p> - -<p>“This other, she wrote with her head,” he told -himself, “and then her heart gave up and made -her write this. Ah, the dear, dear girl! It’s like -her to surrender like this, so completely, and even -against herself when she lets her heart get the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_225">[225]</span> -upper hand. Oh, my arms will be all the tying -she’ll need, and there’ll be kisses enough to stop -her mouth as long as we live!”</p> - -<p>With a caressing touch he put the missive away -in an inner pocket and urged his horse on again, -smiling and humming softly. At last he recalled -the other letters. Mrs. Ware’s he read first and -found in it confirmation of the view he had already -taken of Rhoda’s surprising message. The girl -was evidently longing for sight of him once more, -her mother said, and if he were to come soon -perhaps he could storm her stubborn heart. He -laughed again and exclaimed aloud, “Yes, indeed, -I’m coming, and if there’s any more storming -necessary—” and the sentence broke off into another -exultant laugh.</p> - -<p>Then he bethought him of the other letter. It -was without date line or signature and with puzzled -eyes he read its few lines, in the middle of the -page: “When true hearts pine and gallants stay -away, then what can ladies do? Alas the day, -they can but pine when cruel gallants come no -more!”</p> - -<p>He looked the sheet all over and examined the -envelope inside and out to find some clue to its -authorship. But there was not the least sign, and -the postmark was indistinct. It was written upon -the same kind of paper and inclosed in the same -kind of envelope as Rhoda always used, but the -handwriting was not Rhoda’s, and it seemed so<span class="pagenum" id="Page_226">[226]</span> -unlike her to send such an indirect, silly little -message that he said at once, “No, it’s not from -Rhoda.” But who could there be among his -friends or acquaintance likely to take such interest -in his courtship, of which so few of them knew, -and send him this sort of romantic hint? Of -course, it might be from some friend of Rhoda’s -in whom she had confided.</p> - -<p>“It must be that little rogue of a Charlotte!” -he presently exclaimed. “She has sharp eyes in -her head, that’s plain enough, always, and she -has seen how it is with her sister and thought she -might help things along by giving me a hint. Bless -her heart! She’s a dear little thing, if she does -like to flirt, and after Rhoda and I are married -we’ll bring her down to Fairmount and give her -the best time she’s had in all her life and perhaps -marry her to Lloyd Corey or Frank Morehead.”</p> - -<p>While this was not the outcome of her anonymous -message which Charlotte hoped to bring -about when she penned it, she would perhaps have -been as willing to accept it, had her thoughts -ranged so far ahead, as the one she planned to -compass. Nor would she have been taken aback -had she known, while she fluttered about on the -tiptoe of expectancy for whatever might happen, -with what ardor Jefferson Delavan’s thoughts were -turning toward Rhoda on his northward ride.</p> - -<p>If her missive induced him to come again to -their house what did it matter whether he thought<span class="pagenum" id="Page_227">[227]</span> -its words referred to Rhoda or to some one else? -Since Rhoda was determined she would not marry -him, he would soon find out his mistake and would -be quite willing to look for consolation elsewhere. -Had he not shown her every attention on the trip -to Cincinnati? And when had she failed to set -a man’s heart aflame, if she had really wanted to -witness the conflagration? Let her once more -have the opportunity—and she smiled at the brown -eyes reflected back from her mirror, confident that -they had lost none of their power.</p> - -<p>He would be able to reach the Ohio river by -the morrow’s night, Delavan thought, and the -next morning he would cross over and hasten up -the hill to claim the sweet promise that beckoned -to him from that glimpse of Rhoda’s secret heart. -As he mused over her words, and the wonder of it -that she should at last have called him, it occurred -to him that perhaps she had not meant to put that -sheet into her letter. Perhaps she had merely -written down that revelation of her feelings as -ease to her own aching heart. But he laughed -joyously.</p> - -<p>“She’s let me know how it is with her, whether -she meant to send it or not, and I’ll do just as she -begs me to, this time!”</p> - -<p>And so he urged his horse onward, his glowing -heart beating high in his breast, sure of the happiness -waiting for him at the end of his journey, -and counting off the lessening hours that lay between<span class="pagenum" id="Page_228">[228]</span> -him and the banks of the river. But that -night there came a violent rainstorm that carried -away bridges and left swollen streams rushing -through overflowed valleys. It delayed him two -days, so that it was not until the sixth day after -Rhoda penned her letter that he reached Hillside.</p> - -<p>And in the meantime the Supreme Court had -announced its decision in the Dred Scott case, delighting -the South, staggering the North, and -fanning to still higher and hotter flame the fires -of contention over the ever-burning question of -slavery. Jefferson Delavan heard the news as -he fumed over his delay, storm-bound in the hotel -of a country town. He and half a dozen other -slave owners from the town and near-by plantations, -who dropped into the hotel during the -evening, rejoiced over the victory as they sat -around a bowl of punch.</p> - -<p>“This will put an end to the whole controversy -and give the country peace at last,” said Delavan.</p> - -<p>“It knocks the feet from under the Republican -party,” declared another. “They’ll be capable -of no more mischief now!”</p> - -<p>“Yes, gentlemen,” exclaimed a third, “it surely -ties the hands of the northern fanatics. They can -no longer stop our growth!”</p> - -<p>“Under the protection of this decision,” Delavan -followed on, “we can take our slaves wherever -we like, and, with the northern Democracy becoming<span class="pagenum" id="Page_229">[229]</span> -more and more favorable to us, we shall -soon win back the ground we have lost!”</p> - -<p>“Nor will our growth be all in that direction!” -said another, slowly and significantly.</p> - -<p>“No, indeed!” was Delavan’s quick response. -“Mexico and Central America will be ours for -the taking as soon as we realize our strength. -Gentlemen!” He sprang to his feet, his face -glowing with enthusiasm, his glass held high. -“Gentlemen, I give you a toast: To the Republic -of the South, our own fair Land of Dixie, firm -footed on the foundation of slavery, and spreading -wide wings North, South, East and West; her -day shall come soon and endure forever!”</p> - -<p>With shouts of approval the others were on their -feet at once, drinking the toast, cheering the sentiment, -and waving hats, pipes, glasses, whatever -their hands could seize. And no ghost of a misgiving -visited Jefferson Delavan, in the midst of -their exultant rejoicing, as to how that decision -might affect his personal fate.</p> - -<p>To Rhoda Ware, as she looked back upon them, -the days following that of her adventure with the -negro lad were like a beautiful dream. After her -one moment of apprehension she did not believe -that she had put into her letter the telltale sheet -whereon she had poured out her heart. She was -sure she had burned it. But that instant of anxious -fear that her lover would read her confession had -given to her traitor heart its opportunity. In the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_230">[230]</span> -brief respite of secret rejoicing she had allowed -it to take, it had leaped to the saddle and it would -not give up again to her mind and conscience the -right of command. So she submitted to the sway -of her love and battled with it no more.</p> - -<p>“He will know—he will feel it, even though -I didn’t send what I wrote,” she whispered to herself. -“And if he doesn’t come soon, I will write -to him—and tell him—yes, I’ll tell him to come!”</p> - -<p>She spent much time alone in her room, seated -at a southern window that commanded a view of -the street leading up from the steamboat landing, -the little bundle of letters and the faded rose held -caressingly in her hands. It happened that no -fugitives came to their door during this time, or -she might have suffered sudden awakening from -her dream.</p> - -<p>As it was, she thought of nothing but the coming -of her lover and her surrender to his suit. Now -and then her reverie strayed on into the future -and she pictured their life together in Jeff’s beautiful -home at Fairmount, with the slaves all freed -and giving faithful service for wages. Staying so -much apart and living in her own rose-colored -dreams, the strenuous enthusiasms of the recent -months, even her immediate surroundings, seemed -to lose their reality. The same emotional force in -her character which enabled her to enter with -such zeal into the anti-slavery work and to be -so absorbed by it that she could sacrifice her love<span class="pagenum" id="Page_231">[231]</span> -upon its altar made it possible now,—indeed, -made it inevitable,—when she had once given up -to the opposing influence, that she should be swept -by its forceful current to the other extreme.</p> - -<p>A new expression came into her face. Her -dreams drew a soft and tender veil across the usually -intent and serious look of her eyes, and all her -countenance glowed with her inner happiness. Her -mother saw the change in expression and demeanor -with inward delight. For when it came to the -affections Mrs. Ware was able to interpret her -daughter’s feelings and actions with more surety -than in matters of the mind and conscience.</p> - -<p>Charlotte, in whose heart rankled resentment -against her father and sister for their anti-slavery -views, their Underground work, and the reproach -that had been administered to her, noted the new -look on Rhoda’s face and said bitterly to herself: -“Yes, I suppose she’s getting hold of a whole pack -of niggers to steal and send on to Canada!” She -told herself petulantly that she was no longer of -any consequence in their home and began to feel -an angry sense of injury at the bonds tacitly imposed -upon her conduct by the ideas and actions -of her father and sister. She longed for some -happening that would take her away and put her -into surroundings where she could feel her accustomed -sense of freedom and personal importance.</p> - -<p>And so, the wish being father to the conviction, -Charlotte felt every day more and more sure<span class="pagenum" id="Page_232">[232]</span> -that Jefferson Delavan would soon reappear, that -Rhoda would refuse him again, and that then she -could capture his repulsed heart and speedily win -from him a proposal of marriage. She would -hold him off a little while, and make him all the -more eager—that would be easy enough—and -when at last she did consent, he would of course -want an early marriage, and to that, too, she -would reluctantly consent—“Oh, the sooner the -better,” her thoughts broke into sudden storm, -“so that I can get away from this black abolition -hole!”</p> - -<p>Dr. Ware observed with surprise the look upon -his daughter’s face and the change in her manner. -He felt the lessening of her ardor in their mutual -interests and was not slow to attribute her silence, -her drawing away from the life of the household -and her self-absorbed, dreamlike demeanor to its -true cause.</p> - -<p>“Something has happened,” he said to himself, -“that, for the time being, has made her give up the -struggle against her heart, and, like a river that -has burst through its dam, her love is overflowing -everything else in her nature. Well, I’m glad -Delavan isn’t here now, and I hope her conscience -will get its head above water again before she -sees him. The good Lord grant that something -happens to bring her back to herself before it’s too -late!”</p> - -<p>But he said nothing to his daughter, faithfully<span class="pagenum" id="Page_233">[233]</span> -observing the pledge he had made to his wife at -their recent reconciliation. Nor did he and Mrs. -Ware speak to each other about it, although it -was uppermost in both their thoughts. The renewed -tenderness between them was too sacred -for either to dare the risk of marring its bloom -by even so much as an allusion to a subject upon -which they were so widely divided.</p> - -<p>On the fourth day of her surrender Rhoda sat -at her window reading a letter from her friend, -Julia Hammerton. Her active spirit was beginning -to bestir itself again and as she finished the -epistle she stretched her arms above her head and -with a little frown remembered that she had that -morning neglected one of her usual duties. Then, -“Dear me,” she exclaimed, “I’ve forgotten all -about that for— Oh, it must be several days! I -suppose mother has attended to it,” she rebuked -herself, and then smiled tenderly at the sunshine -which filled all her inner consciousness.</p> - -<p>“I’ve been very happy, these days,” she thought, -“but I’m afraid I’ve been awfully lazy and selfish -too. I must go down now and get to work.”</p> - -<p>She looked out of the window and saw Horace -Hardaker and the elder Kimball, father of Walter -and Lewis, coming up the hill. Her thought reverted -to the missive from Horace’s sister.</p> - -<p>“I’ll take Julia’s letter down and read it to -them. There’s such a lot of news from Kansas -in it that will interest them. Dear Julia! Horace<span class="pagenum" id="Page_234">[234]</span> -ought to be proud of her—and he is, I know. -She’s been so brave and so true!”</p> - -<p>The hint of a shadow crossed her face as she -looked absently at the letter in her hand. From -somewhere far back in her mind seemed to come -a faint question, Had she also been true? But she -lifted her head proudly with the quick answering -thought:</p> - -<p>“Of course I am true. I shall not change my -convictions the least little bit, even if I do marry -Jeff. And perhaps I can do more good as his -wife than I could in any other way.”</p> - -<p>“As the mistress of slaves!” came back the -accusing whisper.</p> - -<p>In the office she found her father and the two -others deeply engrossed in conversation, their -looks anxious and gloomy, but their manner showing -excitement.</p> - -<p>“Come in, Rhoda,” said Dr. Ware, as she hesitated -at the door, “and hear the bad news.”</p> - -<p>“Bad news! Oh, father, what is it?”</p> - -<p>“The Supreme Court has decided the Dred Scott -case and the result is even worse than we have -feared. Chief Justice Taney has dragged his -official robes through slavery filth and given to -the pro-slaveryites everything they want!”</p> - -<p>“Oh, father—Horace! What does he say?”</p> - -<p>“The decision is,” answered Hardaker, “that -a slave cannot be a citizen—practically, that a -nigger has no rights a white man is bound to respect—that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_235">[235]</span> -Congress has no right to prohibit -slavery in the territories, and that therefore the -Missouri Compromise is unconstitutional and -void.”</p> - -<p>“It knocks the very breath out of the Republican -party,” added Dr. Ware. “Its existence is -based on the effort to get Congress to forbid slavery -in the territories. So, now—where is it? -Where are we?”</p> - -<p>“We are done for, all of us,” said Kimball, in -hopeless tones. “It has knocked the footing from -under the whole anti-slavery fight. It binds us -hand and foot, and it looks now as if we might -as well stop fighting.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no, Mr. Kimball!” Rhoda exclaimed. -“Don’t say that! We must keep on fighting as -long as there’s one of us left!”</p> - -<p>“She’s right, Kimball!” said Dr. Ware, his -glance resting for a moment upon his daughter’s -face. She looked up in some confusion at having -broken in so abruptly, and met his eyes. Cool -and clear, they seemed to be looking into her very -heart and down in their gray depths as they turned -away she felt rather than saw a gleam of gratification. -The hot blood flushed her face, and conscience, -that had just now barely stirred under its -rose-leaf coverlet, roused and began to tell her that -she too must keep on fighting. Had her father -guessed how near she had been to deserting their -cause, she wondered.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_236">[236]</span>“Yet, she’s right,” Dr. Ware was repeating, -with a thump of his fist on the table. “We’ve -got to find standing ground somewhere, and somehow -keep up the fight!”</p> - -<p>“Their next step will be to reopen the slave -trade—they’re demanding that already,” Kimball -went on. “And then we shall have once more all -the horrors of the slave ships sheltered under the -law and people taught to regard the traffic as right -because it is legal.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” broke in Hardaker, “that’s the worst -of these legalized wrongs—the way they debauch -the consciences of people. Look at the way the -northern Democrats are defending the right of -property in slaves! A few years ago they admitted -slavery was wrong, but said it was here and -so we must make the best of it. Now they say it -is all right and must be protected and are tumbling -over one another in their eagerness to give the -South everything she wants!”</p> - -<p>“Well, this decision gives her everything she -wants now, and opens the door for her to take -anything else she may want later.”</p> - -<p>Kimball’s thin old hands were clenched together -and his gray-bearded face was sad with the hopelessness -of age. For thirty years he had been -fighting with all his strength in the cause of the -slave and he had seen the anti-slavery sentiment -grow from the conviction of a mere handful of -people to the determination of a mighty multitude.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_237">[237]</span> -And now, when at last it seemed as if they had -almost reached the point where at least the thing -could be penned up in small space and its political -power taken from it, now had come this deadly -blow, to nullify every effort they could make.</p> - -<p>Rhoda knew what long years of endeavor and -sacrifice he had spent in the anti-slavery cause and -how ardent had been his hope that he might live -to see slavery ended and the whole country made -free. She watched him now, her cheeks flushing -and her heart responding with full sympathy to -the grief and despair that filled his breast.</p> - -<p>“If Congress,” he went on bitterly, “must recognize -and defend the master’s right to his slave -wherever he takes him, then there can be no hindrance -to slavery in any part of this country, and -Toombs and Davis and all the rest of them can yet -call the roll of their slaves in the shadow of Bunker -Hill monument, or any place else they wish. That, -my friends, is what this decision means!”</p> - -<p>His voice trembled and Rhoda saw in his eyes -the tears of an old man whose dearest hope had -come to naught. She was conscious of a remorseful -shame, as though she herself had been in some -measure responsible for his grief and despair. For -had she not, was her swift, self-accusing thought, -been ready to compromise with this monster?</p> - -<p>“No, no, Mr. Kimball, you mustn’t give up -like that,” Hardaker was exclaiming, “not while -there’s one of us left to die fighting. And the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_238">[238]</span> -election last fall showed that there are more than -a million of us, who at least are ready to help. -Rhoda’s got the right idea,” and he looked at her -with smiling approval.</p> - -<p>Again she blushed and turned her eyes away, -feeling acutely that she did not deserve this praise -and miserably wondering if they would despise -her were she to tell them that she had been willing, -only an hour before, to become a slaveholder’s -wife.</p> - -<p>“It seem to me,” Horace went on, “that we’ve -got to go right on with the popular propaganda -against slavery. Why, this very decision of Chief -Justice Taney—it’s so atrocious and inhuman, it -will be the best campaign document we’ve ever -had. We ought to circulate it by the thousand! -I’m not sure, friends, but it will be a good thing -for us, in the long run!”</p> - -<p>Dr. Ware smiled slightly. He was accustomed -to the enthusiasm with which Hardaker, in a dozen -sentences, could convince himself of the truth of a -proposition which, five minutes before, he would -have flouted. Nevertheless, this idea appealed -to him.</p> - -<p>“There’s a good deal in that, Horace,” he acquiesced, -“and I think we’d better take it up in the -Rocky Mountain Club. But while we’re appealing -to the northern voters we mustn’t forget the South. -We must extend and increase our Underground -work, because it is making slave property most precarious<span class="pagenum" id="Page_239">[239]</span> -all along the border states. The more -slaves we can run off the more uncertain the whole -institution becomes, and the more angry we make -the South—and there’s nothing irritates them so -much as this—the sooner the crisis will come. -War is the only possible solution of this problem, -friends. So I say, let’s bring on the crisis as soon -as possible, and fight it out!”</p> - -<p>At that moment there was a knock at the office -door and a request for Dr. Ware’s services in -another part of the town. The two visitors went -down the hill again and Rhoda, invited by the -bright sunshine, strolled down the veranda and -across the yard to the grape arbor. She wanted to -be alone and think matters over, find where she -stood and allay the turmoil between her heart and -her conscience.</p> - -<p>As she walked down the path she saw that Jim -was already making preparations for the spring. -This great bed was to be filled again with white -petunias—they had liked it so much last year. -Again she seemed to sense their odor, as on that -June night, and to hear a voice vibrant with tones -of love. No, she could not think here,—her heart -would not let her. She turned away and hurried -to her room. But there too every inch of space -was like a seductive voice calling to her with the -memories of the last few days. With a sudden -grip upon herself—a quick indrawing of breath -and a pressure of teeth upon her lip, the outward<span class="pagenum" id="Page_240">[240]</span> -signs of inner process of taking herself in hand—she -went deliberately downstairs and out into -the woodshed.</p> - -<p>There she sat down upon a chunk of wood and -faced the little room, with its door heedlessly exposed -and open, just as the marshal had left it. -The sight stung her, as she had known it would, -with an accusation of apostasy. But her spirit -rose up quickly in self-defense.</p> - -<p>“No, I didn’t desert our cause, even in thought,” -she declared to herself. “I’m not so bad as that, -I hope. I only thought I could marry Jeff and -still help it along. But I’m afraid I couldn’t. -Yes, I know what mother said, and for a little -while it did seem possible—just because I wanted -it so much, I suppose. But mother and I are so -different. I couldn’t be in the midst of things that -I thought were wrong without trying to make them -right. Jeff would free his slaves if I asked him to—I’m -sure he would.”</p> - -<p>She lingered over the thought a moment and -a fond smile curved her lips. “Yes, I’m sure he -would, and I wouldn’t have to be a mistress of -slaves. But that isn’t the whole of it. He told -me once, and it’s been in all his letters, how wrapped -up he is in the interests of the South. And -that means slavery. It’s his own section and what -they think are their rights, against all the rest of -us and against freedom, and eternal right, and the -upward progress of the world. We’d still be just<span class="pagenum" id="Page_241">[241]</span> -as much divided and opposed to each other as -ever.”</p> - -<p>The memory returned to her of her father sitting -at his desk, his face drawn with sadness and -sadness in his voice, as she had seen him on that -evening in the previous autumn when she had -asked if her mother could not be told what they -were doing. She shivered a little.</p> - -<p>“No, I shouldn’t like to think of my husband -feeling like that, knowing that he couldn’t tell me -of his dearest hopes and plans and ambitions, and -feel sure of my sympathy. No, that wouldn’t be -being married, really married.”</p> - -<p>A little longer she sat with her chin in her hand -and stared at the open door of the tiny room. Her -face gradually took on a stern expression that -made it, notwithstanding its youthful smoothness, -curiously like her father’s.</p> - -<p>“No,” she said aloud as she rose, “it can’t be. -It’s just as impossible still as it has been all the -time—even if I did think for a little while—”</p> - -<p>Her face suddenly melted into tenderness and -her voice sank to a whisper. “It was a lovely -dream while it lasted, and I’m glad—it didn’t do -anybody, not even me, any harm, and I’m glad—yes, -I’m glad—I had it!” The little lines at the -corners of her mouth deepened, her upper lip lifted, -and her flashing smile lit up her countenance and -shone in her eyes. “It’s almost like looking back -on having been married for a little while!” she -thought.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_242">[242]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XVIII</h2> -</div> - -<p>“Rhoda,” called Mrs. Ware from the veranda -steps, “will you come here, please?”</p> - -<p>Rhoda was standing between the rows of lilac -that hedged the walk to the front gate, inspecting -the swelling buds and saying to herself with pleasure -that they looked as if they would bloom early -that year. The lilac was her best-loved flower -and these two lines of bushes had been planted -because of her pleading, ten years before. Every -season she watched anxiously for the buds to show -sign of returning life, and Charlotte declared that -after they began to swell she measured them with -a tape line every day to mark their growth. When -they bloomed she kept bowls of the flowers all -over the house and was rarely without a spray -in her hair or her dress.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Ware noted that her daughter’s step was -not as brisk as usual and saw that the glow was -gone from her face, while into her eyes had come a -look of wistfulness. Believing she knew the cause, -she longed to take the girl in her arms and say, -“Don’t worry, dear. He’ll be here soon, I’m -sure, for I wrote to him to come.” But she -thought it best to keep her own secrets and so what -she said was:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_243">[243]</span>“Mrs. Winston has just sent word that little -Harriet is worse and she wants your father to -come at once. He’s not likely to be back here -before noon. So I want you to drive me over to -their house and then take the message to your -father—I know where he is—so he can stop there -before he comes home. Get ready at once, honey. -I’ve told Jim to harness up, and I’ve only to put -on my bonnet.”</p> - -<p>Charlotte watched them as they drove down the -hill, thinking discontentedly, “Mother doesn’t care -half as much about me as she does about Rhoda. -She’d just give her eyes to have Rhoda marry -Jeff, and she never shows the least interest that -way in me. I don’t believe she’d care if I was to -be an old maid. An old maid! Oh, la! Well, -I’m not going to, and I’ll not marry anybody in -Hillside, either.”</p> - -<p>Looking rather pleased with herself at this ultimatum -she sauntered into the house and the notes -of the “Battle of Prague” were soon resounding -through the silent rooms. But the clanging of the -knocker at the front door presently crashed them -into discord. A moment later she crossed the hall -into the parlor, whither Lizzie had shown Jefferson -Delavan, thinking:</p> - -<p>“What good luck there’s nobody at home but -me! I wish Rhoda had refused him again first. -Well, I’ll tell him she’s going to.”</p> - -<p>A twinkle of amusement came now and then<span class="pagenum" id="Page_244">[244]</span> -into Delavan’s eyes as he watched the airs and -graces, the sidelong glances, and all the dainty -feminine tricks of movement and gesture and poise -with which Charlotte accompanied her conversation. -It was not her physical habit ever to remain -quietly seated, or even in the same position for -more than a few minutes. Her restless spirits, -her active body and her native vivacity of manner -combined to keep her in motion almost as incessant -and quite as unconscious as that of a bird flitting -about in a tree. Although she did not know it -this habit was one of her most charming characteristics. -She had a certain dignity of carriage, like -her mother’s, which made itself manifest, notwithstanding -her absurdly large hoopskirt, and this, -with her grace of action and of posture, made -her movements always pleasing to look at, while -her bird-like flights gave an elusiveness to her manner -that enhanced her charm.</p> - -<p>She saw the admiration in Delavan’s face as -his eyes followed her, and tilted her skirts in a way -that would have scandalized her mother, although -she observed that her companion seemed not at -all dismayed by the glimpses of slender foot and -ankle that she made possible. That occasional -twinkle of amusement she took as a tribute to her -gaiety and laughed and chattered all the more.</p> - -<p>“Has your true heart been pining, Miss Charlotte?” -he presently asked in a quizzical tone, as<span class="pagenum" id="Page_245">[245]</span> -he leaned upon the back of her chair, looking down -smilingly into her pretty, upturned face.</p> - -<p>She flushed a little, but made wide eyes at him -and said, “What do you mean?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I was given to understand that some hearts -in Hillside are in a rather bad way. Is yours true -and does it pine?”</p> - -<p>She made a graceful little gesture and turned -upon him with a merry face and a look distinctly -provocative: “Suppose it was, either or both, what -would it matter to you?”</p> - -<p>She looked up at him, smiling, with saucy lips -and inviting eyes, and before she knew what he -was doing he had slipped an arm around her -waist and lifted her to her feet. She struggled to -free herself, but he held her against his breast, -pushed back her head and kissed her squarely upon -the lips, once, twice, and thrice. With her hands -against his chest she tried to push him away and -struggled to turn her face from his. But she was -helpless in his grasp until he released her.</p> - -<p>“You brute!” she exclaimed, dashing the angry -tears from her eyes. “How dare you!”</p> - -<p>He leaned against the back of the chair, hand in -pocket, and laughed indulgently. “Didn’t you -want me to? It looked that way.”</p> - -<p>“Of course I didn’t,” she stormed. “You’re -a horrid thing, and I hate you!”</p> - -<p>“Well, I’m glad to know you didn’t. It’s much -better that you were only pretending.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_246">[246]</span>“How do you think Rhoda will take it, when I -tell her? And I shall!”</p> - -<p>“Oh, tell her if you like. But how do <i>you</i> think -she will take your trying to persuade a kiss from -her lover?”</p> - -<p>Her eyes blazed angrily and she stamped her -foot, but said nothing.</p> - -<p>“Never mind, little sister,” he went on, patting -her shoulder. “I was only giving you a lesson, -and it’s much better to keep such things in the -family. Remember after this that if you ask a -man so plainly to kiss you he’s very likely to do -it.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t call me ‘sister,’ you horrid thing! I’m -not!” she exclaimed, turning away.</p> - -<p>“I hope you will be some day.”</p> - -<p>“I won’t! Rhoda isn’t going to marry you!”</p> - -<p>“So she’s told me a number of times!” and he -laughed again, an easy, happy, self-satisfied laugh.</p> - -<p>She faced about, curiosity in her heart. Had -something happened without her knowledge? -Would he seem so sure, would he wear openly that -look of confident love if Rhoda had not accepted -him? The imp of mischief stirred once more in -her breast. She moved a step nearer.</p> - -<p>“Say, do you know, Jeff, that’s the first time a -man ever kissed me!”</p> - -<p>“You’ve had better luck than you deserve, little -sister.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_247">[247]</span>“If you’re so much in love with Rhoda what did -you want to do it for?”</p> - -<p>“Why did you look as if you wanted me to if -you didn’t?”</p> - -<p>“I didn’t look that way!”</p> - -<p>“Oh, didn’t you? Then my previous observations -have been at fault. Perhaps I thought I’d -like to find out why you sent me that anonymous -letter. At first I thought you meant it as a hint -for Rhoda’s sake. But after you’d been five minutes -in this room it seemed to me that you were -taking very queer means for advancing her interests. -If you had unfortunately fallen in love with -me yourself it wouldn’t have been quite so bad. -But you haven’t, little sister, you haven’t. You’d -have wanted me to kiss you again if you had.”</p> - -<p>“You’re a horrid brute, that’s what you are, -and I hate you!”</p> - -<p>“I’m sorry to hear it, for I’ve always liked -you, and you’re Rhoda’s sister. But I hope you’ll -remember that treachery isn’t a nice thing, in either -love or war.”</p> - -<p>She moved uncertainly toward the door and, -glancing through the window, saw her sister drive -past the front gate. “There’s Rhoda!” she exclaimed, -casting back at him a fiery glance. “I -shall tell her just the sort of man you are!” But -she did not forget to give her hoopskirt an extra -tilt as she dashed out. Delavan, noting it, smiled -as he followed her to the door and cast a glance<span class="pagenum" id="Page_248">[248]</span> -after her figure, hurriedly retreating up the stairs.</p> - -<p>Rhoda did not know that Jeff was there until she -came into the hall through the office and saw him -standing in the parlor door. “Sweetheart!” he -called in low tones, and moved toward her, with -outstretched hand. A glad light came into her -face at sight of him, but she stood still and did -not speak, until he was at her side.</p> - -<p>“Don’t, Jeff! When I have told you so many -times it can’t be!” she pleaded, and drew away -from him as he would take her in his arms.</p> - -<p>“I know, dearest! But it’s different now, when -I know what you really want!”</p> - -<p>She turned so that he could not see her face and -asked with a sort of gasp, “What do you mean?”</p> - -<p>If he could have seen her countenance as she -stood with face averted, finger on lip, listening -breathlessly for his reply, nothing would have prevented -him from seizing her in his arms and doing -as she had begged in the letter she had not meant -him to see. For it glowed with love and trembled -upon surrender and shone with gladness that he -knew her inmost heart.</p> - -<p>“Ah, Rhoda Ware, I know your secret now!” -He was bending near her, his hands hovering over -her, but still he would not touch her while she -seemed unwilling. “I know, now, how much you -love me, and how ready at last you are to give -up to your heart. Come then, dear one, or I shall -surely do as you bade me in your letter!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_249">[249]</span>A sudden stiffening and shrinking in her attitude -made him fall back a step and look at her anxiously. -Slowly, very slowly, she turned, lifting her -head, until she faced him. And slowly the love-light -and the trembling nearness to surrender -faded out of her countenance and left it drawn -with the effort by which she had forced herself -once more to the point of denial, with lips compressed -and gray eyes steely with resolution.</p> - -<p>“Jeff,” she began, and her voice was unsteady, -“it’s not fair to either of us that you saw what -I wrote. I didn’t mean to put that into my letter—I -wrote it out only because my heart ached so -and it seemed some relief. But I thought I’d -burned it. I’m sorry it got mixed in with the other -sheets. But it was a mistake, and you’ll forgive -me, won’t you, dear Jeff, and you won’t feel that -it was a promise?”</p> - -<p>Her voice fell away into pleading tones and -she stood hesitating, poised, as if wishing him to -stand aside and let her pass. With instinctive -deference he stepped aside and she moved quickly -to the foot of the stairs. But he sprang after her -and seized her hand, exclaiming, as he drew her -into the parlor, “No, Rhoda! I shall not let you -ruin both our lives and break both our hearts, -after that glimpse you gave me of yours!”</p> - -<p>She steadied herself for the struggle she knew -must come, and suddenly felt her nerves grow firm -and her brain clear, as they always did when she<span class="pagenum" id="Page_250">[250]</span> -faced great need. She was calmer than he and -more mistress of herself as she said:</p> - -<p>“I can’t say anything different to what I’ve always -said, and said in that letter, that I feel to the -bottom of my heart that slavery is such a wrong, -such a curse, such a horrible thing that I can’t -marry you because you believe in it and are a part -of it.”</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_250.jpg" alt=""></div> -<p class="caption">“‘Don’t, Jeff, please don’t!’ she pleaded.”</p> - -<p>He gazed at her silently a moment, and the love -in his face, that had but just now been more of the -body than of the soul, was transfused with admiration -of her spirit. “And you can still say -that to me,” he marveled in hushed accents, “after -your heart has ached as it must have when you -wrote those lines?”</p> - -<p>She dropped her eyes lest he see the sudden -start of tears. It was a subtle undermining of her -defenses, had he known it, thus to cease demanding -and reveal such understanding and sympathy. Of -such sort was her ideal love, and it hurt more than -ever to put it from her. One hand was pressed -against her heart, as if she could thus lessen the -physical pain, and she said piteously, “It’s aching -now, Jeff!”</p> - -<p>He looked at her irresolutely. Her drooping -figure, her averted face, her trembling voice—they -were all such a plea of weakness to strength, of -feminine trust to masculine power to help, that -even if he had not loved her the impulse to take -her in his arms and comfort her would have been<span class="pagenum" id="Page_251">[251]</span> -well-nigh overpowering. But he knew not what -unexpected visage her spirit might next reveal and -he had already learned that, although the primitive -woman in her might call loudly one moment, -in the next the civilized woman would thrust her -into her cave and in dignity and strength stand -guard at the door. For a moment he wavered, -then with clenched hands turned on his heel and -walked across the room, exclaiming:</p> - -<p>“And you won’t let me stop it, you won’t let -me comfort you!” Then he faced about and as -his eyes fell again upon her, he cried, “By heaven, -I will!” And he sprang toward her.</p> - -<p>But already she had gathered up her resolution -once more and it was the civilized woman, not to be -won save with her own consent, who moved aside -and eluded the embrace with which he would have -swept her to his breast. He dropped on his knees -at her feet and buried his face in her dress. A -moment she stood with both hands clenched against -her heart. Then she bent over him and laid them -as softly upon his head as a compassionate mother -might have done.</p> - -<p>“Don’t Jeff, please don’t!” she pleaded. “It’s -so hard already—don’t make it harder, for both -of us. We’ll have to just recognize what is, and -accept it.”</p> - -<p>He rose again, seizing one of her hands as it -fell from his head. “But what is, Rhoda, except -that we love each other with such strength that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_252">[252]</span> -God who made us must have meant us to be -husband and wife? What else is there that matters, -beside that?”</p> - -<p>“I’ve told you so often, dear, what it is that -matters!”</p> - -<p>“What do you want me to do, dear heart? -I’ll free my slaves, if you wish, and pay them -wages.”</p> - -<p>Her face lighted and she smiled wistfully at -him, but shook her head. “It’s deeper than that, -Jeff, deeper than just the ownership of a few slaves. -I knew you would do that, for my sake. I told -myself so—” she broke off, smiled fondly upon -him, then laid her free hand upon the two already -clasped.</p> - -<p>“Listen, Jeff, let me tell you—I didn’t intend -to, but perhaps it’s best. After I sent you that -last letter, I had a sudden fear that I had put in -the sheet I didn’t mean you to see. It was only -a second, and then I felt sure I had burned it. -But for a little while I—I almost wished I had, -and in my heart I said I would give up and that -I would write you to come. It seemed as if you -would know anyway, and as if you were coming, -without my telling you. And for three or four -days I sat at my window and watched for you and -dreamed about our love, and about our life together -at beautiful Fairmount—” she hesitated -an instant and blushed faintly, but the true woman -in her sent her on—“with our children growing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_253">[253]</span> -up around us, and we so happy and growing old -together— Oh, Jeff, it was such a beautiful -dream!”</p> - -<p>“Not half so beautiful or happy as the reality -would be, sweetheart! Oh, Rhoda, won’t you -make it true!”</p> - -<p>“We’d be happy for a while, dear, but we’d -wake up, sooner or later, just as I did, and then -we’d find out that there was no true marriage between -us, and our happiness would end.”</p> - -<p>Denial was in his face and voice as he quickly -answered: “Never, Rhoda! I can’t believe it! -Why should we waken? Why did you?”</p> - -<p>“It was the Dred Scott decision.”</p> - -<p>He smiled incredulously. “I suppose I would -have anyway, after a little,” she went on, “if you -hadn’t got here first—” and she smiled up at him -ingenuously.</p> - -<p>“O, how I wish I had! If it hadn’t been for -that storm—”</p> - -<p>“It’s better to wake up too soon than too late,” -she broke in. “As soon as I knew about that decision -and all that the chief justice had said, and -understood how delighted the South is over it, -and how it has saddened and discouraged all of -us up here at the North who hate slavery, then I -saw once more that I couldn’t compromise with -my conscience, not the least little bit.”</p> - -<p>“But, Rhoda, you won’t have to, if I free my -slaves. And I will!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_254">[254]</span>“I’ve thought that all out, and it wouldn’t help -us any—though I’d be glad for the slaves. Don’t -you see, Jeff, that if you should free them, still -believing in slavery as you do, and still being devoted -to the South and wanting with all your soul -to further her interests, which you think are bound -up in slavery—don’t you see that after a while you -would begin to feel that for my sake you had -done something wrong, had been false to your -own ideals? And I would know it and it would -make me unhappy. I don’t think, Jeff, that I’d -want you to free your negroes, except as you might -be convinced that it’s wrong to keep them enslaved.”</p> - -<p>She stopped and looked up at him with her -flashing smile. “I’ll run every one of them off to -freedom that I can get a chance to, but—”</p> - -<p>He smiled back at her indulgently, and then -they both laughed a little, glad of the relief from -the high tension which had held them.</p> - -<p>“Rhoda, you are such a dear girl!” he murmured -fondly. Her hands were imprisoned, one -in each of his, but he did not attempt to lessen the -distance between them. The earthly side of their -love was fading out of their mutual consciousness, -for the moment, as their thoughts mounted to the -things of the spirit.</p> - -<p>“It’s such a wide gulf between us, although we -are so near,” she went on. “Your letters have -shown me that. To the bottom of your heart you<span class="pagenum" id="Page_255">[255]</span> -believe that all that the South is struggling for -is right and good and is her just right and will be -for the good of the world.”</p> - -<p>He threw back his head and his eyes shone. “I -do, Rhoda,” he exclaimed with emphasis. “I love -the South, and her ideals are mine and her ambitions -are mine! They are just and right and -the more widely they are spread the better it will -be for civilization and the whole world!”</p> - -<p>She nodded. “Yes, I understand how you feel, -though I didn’t at first. And I believe to the -bottom of my heart that the enslavement of man -by man”—her face was glowing now with the -inner fires of conviction and her low voice thrilled -with the intensity of her feeling—“is wrong and -degrades both of them and is the cause of no end -of horrible things. And I don’t believe that anything -good can ever come out of it.”</p> - -<p>“But you don’t know, Rhoda—you never have -seen—” he began earnestly.</p> - -<p>“Ah, but I have seen, Jeff,” she broke in sadly. -“I’ve seen the poor negroes that my father and I -have helped on their way to Canada taking such -desperate risks and enduring such awful sufferings -in the hope of winning their freedom that I don’t -need to see anything else. Divided like that, dear, -on a matter that goes so deep with both of us, there -could be no real understanding and sympathy between -us, no true marriage. I think your convictions -and your ideals are wrong—they are hateful<span class="pagenum" id="Page_256">[256]</span> -to me—but I honor you for being true to them. -I honor you more and love you more than I would -if you gave them up, while you still believed in -them, for love of me.”</p> - -<p>“You are right, dear heart,” he said, the pain -of baffled and hopeless love sounding in his voice. -“I could not be false to my convictions and my -principles, even for you, my sweet, any more than -you could be false to yours. You make me understand, -as I haven’t before, what this means to you.”</p> - -<p>“No, Jeff, I can’t see that there’s any hope for -us, for our happiness, on this earth, as long as -this thing lasts that lies between us. Perhaps, in -heaven—”</p> - -<p>Their eyes met, and her voice trembled and -ceased. They stood with hands clasped, looking -through open windows into each other’s souls, gazing -deep into the warm and lovely depths of love, -which they were putting behind them, and turning -their vision upward along the heights where material -aims crumbled away and hope and aspiration -became only the essence of the soul’s ideals. And -as they gazed it seemed to them that somewhere -up in that dim region of eternal truth their spirits -met and were joined.</p> - -<p>A faint sigh fluttered from Rhoda’s lips. With -a start Delavan dropped her hands and sank upon -the sofa beside them. His head bowed on his -breast and a deep, shuddering breath, that was -almost a sob, shook his body.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_257">[257]</span>“I think I’ll go now,” said Rhoda tremulously.</p> - -<p>“No, don’t go. I want you beside me a little -while. Sit down here. No, don’t be afraid—give -me your hand.”</p> - -<p>For a little space they sat in silence, like two -children venturing into some unknown region and -gaining courage by clasp of hands. At last he -rose.</p> - -<p>“I will leave you now, dear heart. But it’s -not good-by, even yet. I still believe that sometime -I shall call you wife. I’m proud to have won -your love, Rhoda, prouder than of anything else -I shall ever do.”</p> - -<p>He pressed her hand to his lips, bowed ceremoniously, -and a moment later she was listening -to the sound of his footsteps as he walked down -the path to the gate.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_258">[258]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XIX</h2> -</div> - -<p>After the discovery of the hiding place in the -woodshed, Dr. Ware and his Underground co-workers -thought it best for a little while to receive -no runaways in his house. For it was closely -watched, not only by the officers whose duty it -was to enforce the Fugitive Slave law, but also -by the slave hunters who made it a business to -trail and capture northward-bound chattels for the -sake of the rewards offered by their owners. In -order to divert suspicion Walter and Lewis Kimball -and several other young men who were in -the habit of keeping a lookout for the fugitives -contrived to secrete them elsewhere until surveillance -upon the white house on the hilltop was -relaxed.</p> - -<p>In the meantime Dr. Ware made ready a new -place of concealment. An end of the cellar extending -beneath the room occupied by the two black -servants was separated from the rest by a solid -wall. A trap door was cut in the floor and a flight -of stairs set in. Carpet concealed the door and -over it was usually set a table, chairs, or other -furniture. The cellar room was dark and had -little ventilation, but Dr. Ware and Rhoda congratulated<span class="pagenum" id="Page_259">[259]</span> -themselves that it would be perfectly -safe.</p> - -<p>“Why, father, it’s like a dungeon in a castle,” -the girl exclaimed with a laughing face as she -came up after making it ready with pallets and -cots and a generous supply of old quilts and -blankets. “While they are shut up in there they -can rest and sleep, and so can we, without the -least fear that they’ll be discovered!”</p> - -<p>Dr. Ware cast an observant look at her alert -and smiling countenance. Not since the adventure -with the marshal had she seemed so like her usual -self. Following those self-absorbed days, when -she had seemed to be going about in a happy -dream, had come a period of depression. His professional -eye had noted that she did not eat as a -healthy young creature should and his fatherly -solicitude had made him quickly conscious of her -lessened vivacity of spirit. The changes in her -demeanor cost him a good deal of anxious thought—much -more, indeed, than she supposed he ever -bestowed upon her. He knew that Jefferson Delavan -had been there again, but Rhoda told him -nothing of what had passed between them. So -he merely guessed that his daughter had struggled -once more with her heart and had paid dearly for -the victory.</p> - -<p>He watched her anxiously, but shrank from -speaking to her about her physical state because -he felt sure of its emotional cause and could foresee<span class="pagenum" id="Page_260">[260]</span> -the trend the conversation would take. For the -leading-strings of habit were strong upon them -both, and even stronger was the constraint of -self-consciousness in a middle-aged man who all -his life had cultivated the intellectual side of his -nature at the expense of the emotional. Only -toward the wife who had woven so strong a mesh -about his heart in the days when the blood of -young manhood was hot and winey and, in different -scope and color, toward the child who so much -resembled her, had he ever been able to express -in words and actions the inner warmth and tenderness -of his heart.</p> - -<p>Of Rhoda he made a companion much more -than he did of either his wife or Charlotte. When -she settled down at home after the three years she -had spent, in her latter teens, at Dr. Scott’s Female -Institute, he had been much pleased to find that -he could talk with her seriously upon most subjects -that interested him. And since then they -had grown into a deep and wide intellectual understanding -and sympathy. But between them -there was no emotional expression of their mutual -feeling.</p> - -<p>During this last year he had watched with pride -her rapid development in character and intellect. -Her Underground work had stimulated her sympathies -and trained her in self-reliance and her -increased interest in political affairs had broadened -and developed her intellectually until, from an<span class="pagenum" id="Page_261">[261]</span> -attractive girl of rather more than average endowment -she had become a woman whose companionship -her father enjoyed upon an equal footing. -Blind babies, if the windows of sense perception -are not opened into their minds, become imbecile. -Perhaps—but everybody knows that argument by -analogy is the most deceptive of all the paths by -which human beings endeavor to find truth.</p> - -<p>So, to go back to Rhoda and the new place of -concealment in the cellar. Dr. Ware was much -gratified to see her more lively demeanor that -morning and began to hope that, with the renewal -of their Underground operations and the constant -call they would make upon both heart and head, -she would soon forget the pain that had been benumbing -her energies. She told him she was going -to a meeting of the sewing circle that afternoon at -which they were to consider the question of enlarging -its sphere and turning it into an anti-slavery -society. He thought it a good idea and -encouraged her to do all she could toward that -end.</p> - -<p>She went early to Mrs. Hardaker’s house, where -the meeting was to be held, and proved to be the -first arrival. Horace was there, not having yet -returned to his office after dinner, and as she -entered he greeted her with—</p> - -<p>“Rhoda, here’s a grand thing! Just listen!”</p> - -<p>She saw that he had the New York “Tribune” -in his hands, and as he began to read her attention<span class="pagenum" id="Page_262">[262]</span> -was at once absorbed by the bitter and mournful -eloquence of Horace Greeley’s lament over the -Dred Scott decision—a bit of literature that ought -to be among the classics of American journalism -and studied by every aspirant for its honors. But -it is buried too deep among the yellowing sheets -of forgotten newspaper files to be known, in these -busy days of a later generation, to any but an occasional -investigator. It had its own brief day -of vigorous life, when it stirred profoundly the -minds and hearts of tens upon tens of thousands -of earnest men and women. And then like a dead -leaf it fluttered down to earth, to become a part -of that debris of the centuries that makes a richer -soil for the growth of human souls.</p> - -<p>With quickening pulse Rhoda listened to the -stately march of the sentences, as Hardaker’s -fluent, oratorical voice gave to each its full significance. -As he came to the closing lines his -listener’s breath was catching now and then and -her eyes and cheeks were aflame:</p> - -<p>“The star of freedom and the stripes of bondage -are henceforth one. American republicanism -and American slavery are in the future to be -synonymous. This, then, is the final fruit. In -this all the labors of our statesmen, the blood of -our heroes, the lifelong cares and toils of our forefathers, -the aspirations of our scholars, the prayers -of good men, have finally ended. America the -slave breeder and slaveholder!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_263">[263]</span>As Hardaker looked up and saw her countenance -aglow with the fires of her soul it occurred -to him that, after all, Rhoda Ware was beautiful. -Like the tuned strings of a musical instrument her -emotional nature had responded to the touch upon -her convictions, and behind this mingled glow of -indignation and aspiring soul he felt all the forces -of her woman’s heart, her powers of loving, her -wealth of compassion and tenderness. As he left -the house he muttered to himself:</p> - -<p>“A girl like that—she ought to be a Joan of -Arc!” For the first time in his rather long and -somewhat spasmodic suit for her heart hope of -final success almost fell away from him. If such -a rare, fine creature mated at all, he felt rather -than put into definite thought, it surely ought to -be with some being of finer clay than the average -man. And then he jammed his hat down hard -and said to himself, definitely and savagely: “The -idea of her marrying a damned slaveholder!” -Horace Hardaker was a church member in good -standing, and it was only in the intimacy of his soul -and upon most infrequent occasions that he allowed -himself such lapses of speech. When he did it -was a sure sign that his indignation had a strong -personal tang.</p> - -<p>The band of women in Mrs. Hardaker’s parlor -talked while they sewed, discussing the proposition -of turning themselves into a more ambitious -society. Some were averse, saying they already<span class="pagenum" id="Page_264">[264]</span> -did as much as they could and that, moreover, to -venture outside the sphere of their homes and -attempt to do things that men could do better -would not be a proper and becoming course. -Rhoda, stitching busily, now and then put in an -argument or answered an objection. Her ardor, -pleasant demeanor, and practical capacity had -made her a favorite with all the members of the -society, old and young. Her unfortunate love -affair, of which all of them knew something, invested -her with a romantic interest and set her a -little apart, because of her opportunity and her -sacrifice.</p> - -<p>Of a sudden Rhoda felt her heart swell with -the desire for utterance. She began speaking, at -first with her needle still busy. But, after the first -two or three sentences, her work dropped from -her hands and she leaned forward, her face glowing, -as she dwelt upon the discouragement which -had fallen upon all who hoped for either the ending -or the staying of the progress of slavery, and -of the greater need than ever before that every -one who believed slavery to be an evil should work -against it with zeal. She spoke quietly and simply, -with the intense and moving earnestness of a strong -personality in the grip of a passionate conviction. -One after another the women dropped their needles -and listened with rapt attention. For a few minutes -she talked and then she caught up the paper -and read the article in the “Tribune.” At its close<span class="pagenum" id="Page_265">[265]</span> -the utter silence of the room was broken only by -a half-suppressed sob here and there. After a -moment she said modestly:</p> - -<p>“Well, friends, what are we going to do about -this matter?”</p> - -<p>A woman in the back of the room began clapping -her hands softly, and presently Rhoda was -shrinking back, blushing and abashed, before the -storm of applause. Immediately and enthusiastically, -and perhaps not in strict accord with parliamentary -rules, it was decided to change their -circle into a “Female Anti-Slavery Society,” to -continue their present work and to add to it -whatever their hands might find to do, and to make -Rhoda Ware its president. Surprised and embarrassed, -she tried to decline the honor. But the -women, crowding around her with praise and -caresses, would not let her refuse.</p> - -<p>At home she said nothing of the affair to her -mother or sister, to neither of whom did she ever -make mention of any of her anti-slavery activities. -All that portion of her life, which, indeed, had -come to be the major part, had as little community -with them as if there had been between them no -bond of love and use and relationship. To her -father she related the bare facts of the occasion. -But he soon heard from Horace Hardaker, whose -mother had told him all about it, a full and enthusiastic -account of what had taken place.</p> - -<p>Rhoda grieved much over the growing alienation<span class="pagenum" id="Page_266">[266]</span> -between herself and her mother and sister. -Charlotte held herself plainly aloof, and Rhoda -was puzzled by an evident resentment in her attitude. -She did not know that Charlotte held her -responsible for her own failure to capture the -fancy of Jefferson Delavan.</p> - -<p>“She’s no right to keep him dangling after her -if she doesn’t intend to marry him,” was the vexed -young woman’s summing up of the situation, having -quite decided that if her sister would only move -out of the way she herself would soon be mistress -of Fairmount.</p> - -<p>As the spring and summer went by Mrs. Ware’s -hope for a marriage between Jeff and Rhoda -dwindled into profound disappointment. A sadness -came into her face and voice that smote her -daughter to the heart. The sick-headaches, to -which she had long been subject, became more frequent, -and other ailments began to manifest themselves. -Fearing remorsefully that her anti-slavery -work and her refusal to marry Delavan were at -the bottom of her mother’s failing health, the girl -strove in all tender, care-taking ways of which -she could think to make amends for the double -hurt and disappointment. In the conduct of the -house Mrs. Ware leaned upon her more than ever. -But as the months wore on Rhoda felt keenly that -the old tenderness and intimacy between them were -disappearing.</p> - -<p>The warm weather brought much increase of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_267">[267]</span> -Underground traffic. At that time and during the -years immediately following the work of the Road -was at its height. For its operations there were -friends, money, workers in plenty, and slaves -were gathered up even before they reached the -free-state border, and hurried on from hand to -hand in such secrecy and safety that they had -hardly a care or a responsibility until they found -themselves secure on British soil.</p> - -<p>To Rhoda her father gave over most of the -care of the fugitives upon their arrival and while -they were secreted in the cellar. Not infrequently -also she drove them on to the next station, sometimes -in the night, sometimes by day, in a spring -wagon with a false bottom which he had bought -for this purpose. Occasionally Chad Wallace appeared -in the neighborhood with his peddler’s -wagon at their service, if it did not already contain -its complement of hidden chattels. Now and then -farmer Gilbertson, on a trip to town, hauled back -some “baggage” well concealed in his wagon bed, -to be stowed away in his hollow haystack until it -could be sent on to the next station. A man who -had a market garden out on the same road and -drove back and forth a good deal with vegetables -for the Hillside market and for steamboat supplies, -and another who traveled about ostensibly selling -reeds often carried black passengers.</p> - -<p>With hands and head and heart all so full -Rhoda found little time to spend in thinking of her<span class="pagenum" id="Page_268">[268]</span> -own unhappiness. Nevertheless, the day never -went by that had not a little space saved out from -other things and held apart for thought of her -lover. Now and then a letter passed between them. -But from these missives was dropped all mention -of both slavery and love, although on both sides -the correspondence breathed a sense of mutual -tenderness and understanding that amounted to a -sort of spiritual intimacy. To Rhoda these letters -were the treasure of her heart. They were read -over and over again, held caressingly in her hands -during the brief minutes of each day when she -gave herself up to thought of him, and kept under -her pillow or upon her breast while she slept. Every -night, when she knelt at her bedside, her petitions -to the Heavenly Father begged for His -blessing upon her efforts in behalf of the slaves, -pleaded that He would soon put forth His hand -and make an end of slavery, and implored the -safety and the happiness of her lover.</p> - -<p>In the late summer there came a message from -Fairmount. Emily Delavan, Mrs. Ware’s namesake, -was to be married in October and the Ware -family was bidden to the festivities. The news -set Charlotte upon the borders of ecstatic delight. -The visit, which was to be prolonged through several -weeks, would not only be filled with no end of -alluring pleasures and amusements, but it should -open, she decided at once, the door of escape from -her home into more congenial surroundings. It<span class="pagenum" id="Page_269">[269]</span> -would be just the sort of environment,—a gay -crowd of people with nothing to do but enjoy themselves—in -which she knew she always appeared to -best advantage. Two or three uninterrupted weeks -of it, with Jefferson Delavan always there to feel -the effects of her charms, and she could be quite -sure of the result. But—there was Rhoda.</p> - -<p>“If she’s there,” Charlotte grumbled to herself, -“she’ll just keep on making Jeff think she’s going -to marry him some day, and have him dangling -after her all the time.”</p> - -<p>Why should Rhoda want to go at all, if she -really meant to play fair with Jeff? The girl soon -came to the conclusion, with which she promptly -acquainted her sister, that the other ought not to -attend the wedding.</p> - -<p>“It will be very unkind to me if you insist on -going, Rhoda,” she complained. “It will spoil -all my pleasure.”</p> - -<p>“Sister! Why do you say that?”</p> - -<p>“Because you’ll keep Jeff hanging around you -all the time, just as he does when he’s here. Somehow -you manage to make him think that you’re -going to marry him sometime when you know you -don’t intend to at all. It isn’t fair to me, Rhoda, -you know it isn’t.”</p> - -<p>Rhoda had already begun to plan ways and -means by which her duties and responsibilities -could be cared for during her absence, for she -wished much to make the visit. Her youthful<span class="pagenum" id="Page_270">[270]</span> -spirit, so much neglected and denied of late, was -asserting itself once more and eagerly anticipating -the new experience and the promised social gaieties. -But above all she wished to go in order that -she might be with her lover in his own home, and -afterward be able to picture his daily life more -vividly in her thought.</p> - -<p>“You’re not being fair to me now, Charlotte,” -she replied. “I’ve told Jeff over and over that I -can’t marry him. And I’m sure I don’t want to -hinder him from marrying any one else, if he -wants to.”</p> - -<p>“Then be as good as your word, Rhoda, and -stay away from where he is. He’s attentive enough -to me when you’re not around, and if you’ll just -give me a fair chance—you’ll see—I’ll come back -engaged!”</p> - -<p>Rhoda threw up her head and answered, with -a calm intensity in her tone that made Charlotte -look at her curiously: “Very well. I’ll stay at -home. I’ve no claim on Jeff, and you can do whatever -you like.”</p> - -<p>Charlotte flew across the room, threw her arms -around Rhoda’s neck, kissed her and declared she -was a “dear old thing.” And Rhoda, warming -in response and comforted a little for her own -hurt, smiled with pleasure at this outburst of -affection, returned her caresses and called her -“silly little sister.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_271">[271]</span>“You can be an old maid if you want to and -spend your life working for niggers,” Charlotte -exclaimed, dancing about the room, “but I mean to -have a good time and make the niggers work for -me!” She stopped suddenly and with head on one -side regarded Rhoda anxiously. “Will you promise,” -she broke out, “that you won’t tell mother -why you don’t go?”</p> - -<p>“Of course I won’t tell her!”</p> - -<p>“Nor anybody else?”</p> - -<p>“No!”</p> - -<p>“Good sister! Then I’ll love you more than -ever!”</p> - -<p>When Rhoda declared, and her mother could -not induce her to change her decision, that it would -be impossible for her to go, the disappointment -was so keen that it sent Mrs. Ware to bed with -one of her severest headaches. Rhoda cared for -her with all tenderness, and, in secret bitterness -and tears that her mother must now think more -hardly of her than she deserved, wished that Charlotte -would offer to give back her promise. But -she would not ask it of her sister, and to that -young woman, in the height of girlish spirits, busy -with the dressmaker and her own plans, there -never occurred the faintest idea of making the -offer.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Ware knew, even before she tried, that she -could not induce her husband to accept the hospitality<span class="pagenum" id="Page_272">[272]</span> -of a slave owner, and so, finally, it was -only herself and her younger daughter who made -the journey. As they were saying good-by Charlotte -whispered to her sister:</p> - -<p>“This time next year, Rhoda, I’ll be inviting -you to Fairmount!”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_273">[273]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XX</h2> -</div> - -<p>Letters from Mrs. Ware and Charlotte told of -much gaiety and of days that were an unceasing -round of enjoyment. Charlotte wrote that it was -“heaven upon earth” and that never before had -she “even imagined how happy a girl could be.” -But in her mother’s letters Rhoda detected a note -of melancholy. Although at one with the life -around her in memory, training, sympathy and belief, -she yet seemed to feel herself an alien while -in the midst of it and to be saddened by her own -lack of complete accord.</p> - -<p>“Poor mother!” thought Rhoda. “She loves -father and me so much that she can’t help feeling -loyal to us with a part of her heart. Dear, dear -mother!”</p> - -<p>Moreover, Mrs. Ware was not well, and declared -she would be glad to return home. She -related briefly that Jeff and Emily had divided the -estate, two thirds of which, according to their -father’s will, belonged to the brother. Emily had -chosen some land and a number of slaves and, as -her husband already has as many negroes as he -needed, it was their intention to realize upon these -at once and put the money into improvements upon -his estate.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_274">[274]</span>“They’ll be sold ‘down south,’ I suppose,” said -Rhoda, as she read the letter aloud to her father.</p> - -<p>“Very likely. Those big cotton, cane and rice -plantations are an insatiable market for slaves. -They can’t get enough labor. That is why the -South is so anxious to reopen the African slave -trade. It’s an open secret, which the North winks -at, as it does at everything the South chooses to -do, that the traffic is already going on. Since the -Dred Scott decision there is nothing they stop at. -It’s a pity Chad Wallace or Alexander Wilson -isn’t in the neighborhood of Fairmount just now. -If they were, Emily’s husband wouldn’t be able to -make so many improvements!”</p> - -<p>A few days later Dr. Ware called Rhoda into -his office, anxiety in his demeanor. “I’ve just received -this letter from Wilson,” he exclaimed, -“written in Louisville. See what he says:</p> - -<p>“‘<span class="smcap">Dear Friend Ware</span>: Am sending you to-day -by express one blackbird, a fine specimen, -securely boxed. I was fortunate enough to secure -a live one, as I knew you would find the specimen -more interesting alive than dead.’”</p> - -<p>“Father!” cried Rhoda, her eyes wide and horrified. -“He’s sent some one in a box! All the -way from Louisville! Oh, we must see about it -at once!”</p> - -<p>“The letter was evidently written in great haste,” -Dr. Ware continued, “on a dirty scrap of paper -and,—yes, it was mailed on the boat.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_275">[275]</span>“Then the box came on the steamboat with the -letter!”</p> - -<p>“Yes, and will be at the express office now. Jim -must take the spring wagon and go after it.”</p> - -<p>Rhoda waited in extreme anxiety for Jim’s return, -fearful lest the poor creature should be dead -in the box. Even Dr. Ware showed a lessening -of his usual calm. They said little to each other -during the man’s absence, but together made ready -everything that might be necessary if the “blackbird” -should be unconscious. They knew of more -than one daring escape from slavery by similar -methods. And they knew too of the recent release -from a southern penitentiary, after an eight years’ -term, of a man who had been convicted of attempting -to rescue a slave by this same means.</p> - -<p>The box, short and narrow and looking hardly -large enough to contain a human being, was hurried -into Jim’s room and the cover quickly removed. -Within was the huddled figure of a woman, her -knees drawn up to her chin, and all her body held -in the close confines as tightly as in a vise. She did -not move and when they spoke to her there was -no answer.</p> - -<p>“No, she’s not dead,” said Dr. Ware, his finger -on her pulse. They lifted her out and restorative -measures soon brought her back to consciousness. -But she was ghastly pale and trembling from head -to foot.</p> - -<p>“You poor thing! You’re safe now,” Rhoda<span class="pagenum" id="Page_276">[276]</span> -soothed, patting her arm, as she began to sob -hysterically. “We are your friends and we’ll take -care of you.”</p> - -<p>She was young and comely, perhaps one-fourth -colored, with neither complexion nor features -showing more than a faint trace of her negro heritage. -Presently they were able to give her food -and water, and a little later she told them her -story. As she talked Rhoda sat beside her, clasping -her hand and now and then patting her arm in -sympathy and encouragement. Her speech was -simple, but good, showing intelligence and some -training.</p> - -<p>“How did Mr. Wilson happen to send you in -a box?” asked Dr. Ware.</p> - -<p>“It was the only way. They had to get rid of -me quick. I’d been sold to a trader from New -Orleans and he’d brought me and a lot of others -to Louisville to take us on the steamboat. I knew -he’d paid a big price for me, and from that and -the way he talked me over I knew what he’d -bought me for. I made up my mind I’d rather -die, or do anything. A chance happened to come, -on the street in Louisville, as he was taking us to -the boat, and in a crowd I give him the slip.</p> - -<p>“I didn’t know what I’d do or where I’d go, -but I just hurried along down another street, and -then I saw the man who’d been at master’s plantation -last year and told us about going to Canada -if we wanted to try it.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_277">[277]</span>“Yes—Mr. Wilson,” Dr. Ware interrupted.</p> - -<p>“I knew him right away, though he looked different, -and I spoke to him and told him what I -wanted. He said to follow him and we walked -fast and turned up and down streets, and came to -a free woman’s house. But they’d followed us, -and in two or three minutes they were at the door. -The woman took me into the back room and told -me to jump into that box. Then she put the cover -down quick and went back and I heard the men -go all round the house looking for me and they -swore at the woman and told her they’d seen me -come in and they’d watch the house and keep on -searching it till they got me. Then the man—Mr. -Wilson, you said?—spoke up right loud and -said he couldn’t wait any longer and would she -have his clothes ready if he’d send for the box -right away, ’cause he wanted to catch the boat -for Cincinnati. I ’spected he meant me, and he -did. She put a pillow in the box and some biscuits -and a bottle of water, and cut a little hole in the -side, so I could breathe.</p> - -<p>“I thought I was gwine die in the box,” the -woman went on, again showing signs of hysteria, -as memory of her experience returned. “It was -such a little box I had to be all crunched up and I -got awful pains, and sometimes it seemed as if I’d -just have to scream right out. And then I’d think -what would happen if I did, and I’d be caught and -they’d flog me and send me—where they’d bought<span class="pagenum" id="Page_278">[278]</span> -me for, and then I’d bite hard on the pillow and -keep still. And once the box was turned up so I -was on my head till I knew I was gwine die in -another minute, but they turned it down again and -I didn’t.”</p> - -<p>She stopped speaking, as long, nervous sobs -shook her frame. The tears were streaming down -Rhoda’s face and her bosom was heaving as with -trembling hands she administered the draught her -father had prepared. Dr. Ware noted her agitation -and admonished her gently to calm herself. -The old fear of displeasing him by showing too -much emotion quickly steadied her nerves. To -distract her thoughts from the fugitive’s harrowing -experience he began to question the woman, -as she grew quiet once more, about her life in -slavery.</p> - -<p>“You must have had a hard master to be -willing to take such chances to gain your freedom.”</p> - -<p>“It was the trader I run away from, ’cause I -knew what he’d bought me for. Master was a -kind man.”</p> - -<p>“But he sold you.”</p> - -<p>“It wasn’t master that sold us. He never does. -It was Miss Emily, ’cause she married.”</p> - -<p>A chill struck to Rhoda’s heart. Was her fate -to be forever linked in this way with that of the -slaves from Fairmount? She was glad her father -did not even look at her as he passed, with apparent -unconcern, to the logical next question:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_279">[279]</span>“Who was your master?”</p> - -<p>“Jefferson Delavan, of Fairmount, just beyond -Lexington. He was a kind man and never sold -any of the slaves. His mother, old mistress, was -kind too, when she was alive, and she took pains -with some of us. She was teaching me to be her -maid. But Miss Emily’s different. She’s sold -nearly all of us that fell to her share.”</p> - -<p>Dr. Ware stole an anxious glance at Rhoda. -She was sitting at the bedside, with the woman’s -hand clasped in hers, her eyes straight in front, -her lips pressed together and her face stern.</p> - -<p>“It’s hardly fair to make the blame personal,” -he ventured. She flashed up at him indignant -eyes and her voice was bitter with scorn as she -replied:</p> - -<p>“But he allowed her to be sold, father, and for -such a purpose!”</p> - -<p>He hesitated, considering a temptation. In his -daughter’s present mood it would be easy to deepen -this impulse of condemnation and so perhaps undermine -her love for Delavan. But the next instant -he told himself that it would not be fair. -“The man has enough to answer for—let him at -least have justice,” was his thought.</p> - -<p>Rhoda felt his calm eyes upon her, but she -would not meet them. “You must remember,” -he was saying judicially, “that no man can be better -than the system of which he is a part. It is -quite possible that Delavan knew nothing of all<span class="pagenum" id="Page_280">[280]</span> -this, except that his sister chose certain slaves as -her share. I don’t know very much about him, -but I think he’s decent enough to have protested -if he had known of this woman’s fate. I also -think it’s most unlikely it would have done any -good if he had. And there it is, Rhoda! No -matter how well-intentioned an individual slaveholder -may be, he is likely to be swept along any -minute by his system into its worst abominations. -Our indictment must always be against the system, -not against individuals.”</p> - -<p>When Rhoda knelt at her bedside that night -the look of scorn had faded from her countenance -and in its place were tears. “Dear Father in -Heaven,” she prayed, “do not let Thy punishment -fall upon him. He knows not what he does. His -eyes are so blinded that he cannot see how evil -these things are. Do not punish him, do not let -Thy vengeance fall upon him, until his eyes are -opened and he sees that they are evil. And grant, -O God, I beg of Thee, grant me this, that I may -make amends to this poor creature for his wrong. -If Thy vengeance is ripe and can be stayed no -longer, let it fall upon my head. Let me bear -his punishment. But grant me first that I may -save her.”</p> - -<p>The fugitive, whose name, Lear White, it was -decided should be changed to Mary Ellen Dunstable, -had been so unnerved by her sufferings that -for several days she sorely needed Rhoda’s care<span class="pagenum" id="Page_281">[281]</span> -and Dr. Ware’s medical attention. Rhoda would -not permit her to go into the cellar hiding place, -but made a bed for her in her own room and -watched over her with every solicitude. A dust -of powder over her light-colored face was enough -to give her the appearance of a white girl of -brunette complexion. Only a close observer would -be likely to note that the whites of her eyes and -the form of her nose gave a hint of negro origin.</p> - -<p>“Father,” said Rhoda, when the girl had been -two days in the house, “I can’t bear to think of -sending Mary Ellen on in the usual way. She took -such awful chances to escape from a horrible fate, -and she came so near to death in that box, that it -seems to me almost as if God had put her into my -charge, and meant for me to make up to her for -all that she has suffered. I feel as if I ought not -to let her out of my hands until she is safe in -Canada.”</p> - -<p>“Well, what have you thought of doing? Have -you a plan?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. Mary Ellen looks so much like a white -woman that I’m sure she and I could travel together, -as two girl friends, and go to Cleveland -by the canal. There I can put her on one of our -friendly boats and the captain will take charge -of her till she is safe on the ferry at Detroit.”</p> - -<p>They talked the matter over at length, Rhoda -dwelling upon the girl’s nervous condition, which -had so lessened her self-reliance and her courage<span class="pagenum" id="Page_282">[282]</span> -as to make doubtful the wisdom of sending her on -alone by the ordinary methods. But another reason -of equal strength in her own mind, although -she did not mention it to her father, was her -conviction that here was an opportunity to make -atonement for what she felt to be her lover’s sin. -Moreover, the girl clung to her with such implicit -confidence in her power to shield and save that -Rhoda’s heart rose high with a passion of resoluteness, -like a mother’s for her threatened offspring.</p> - -<p>It was finally decided that her plan should be -carried out. The Female Anti-Slavery Society -offered its little store of cash—pitifully small since -the money panic of two months previous—to help -defray Mary Ellen’s expenses. Several of the -members donated material they had bought for -their own winter wardrobes and helped Rhoda -make it up into gowns for the fugitive.</p> - -<p>On her way downtown one day Rhoda saw a -new handbill on the trunk of a tree at the crossing -of the two main streets. It was of a sort that -had been familiar to her since her childhood. At -one side was a crude woodcut of a negro on the -run, a bundle on the end of a stick across his -shoulder. She stopped to read it, wondering if it -concerned any of the blacks who had been sheltered -under their roof. It offered three hundred -dollars reward, told of the running away of “my -negro girl, Lear White,” gave a detailed and accurate -description of her, saying she was “light-colored<span class="pagenum" id="Page_283">[283]</span> -and good-looking,” and was signed, “William -H. Burns,” with his address in Louisville. -Rhoda walked on, smiling, thinking in what a -little while that poster would be of no consequence -whatever to Lear White, for they were to start -the next morning.</p> - -<p>In the afternoon Marcia Kimball came, to help -Rhoda with the final preparations. They tried -upon Mary Ellen the gown, in which they had -just set the last stitches, that she was to wear on -the journey. Much pleased with its effect, Marcia -whitened her face with a fresh dusting of powder, -and she stood before them a handsome brunette -with a pale complexion, big, soft, black eyes and -coal-black, waving hair. Marcia clapped her -hands, exclaiming:</p> - -<p>“Splendid, Rhoda! Nobody would ever guess! -Oh, you’ll get through all right!”</p> - -<p>Rhoda, standing beside the window, glanced out -and her face grew grave. “Come here a minute, -Marcia,” she said. Some men were entering at -the side gate. Miss Kimball paled. “Marshal -Hanscomb!” she whispered.</p> - -<p>“Yes, but I don’t believe they suspect that she’s -here. There are three men in the cellar, that Mr. -Gilbertson is going to stop for this evening. We -must put on a bold front. Don’t let Mary Ellen -know—she’d be scared to death, and they might -guess. Come,” she exclaimed in a louder voice, -turning gaily from the window, “let’s go downstairs<span class="pagenum" id="Page_284">[284]</span> -and have some music. Marcia, you ought -to hear Mary Ellen sing ‘Nellie Gray’! Come -down and you and she sing it together, and I’ll -play!”</p> - -<p>Laughing and talking, with every appearance -of gaiety, though the hearts of two of them were -beating fast, the three went down to the living-room -and took their places at the piano. With -ears strained to catch the sounds from the other -parts of the house, Rhoda struck the opening -notes and the two voices sang:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="first2">“There’s a low green valley on the old Kentucky shore,</div> -<div class="verse">Where I’ve whiled many happy hours away,</div> -<div class="verse">A-sitting and a-singing by the little cottage door</div> -<div class="verse">Where lived my darling Nellie Gray.”</div> -</div></div> - -<p>Rhoda stopped for a moment and heard the -tramp of the men as they came up the stairs from -the cellar. Then she laughed merrily.</p> - -<p>“Why, Marcia, you’re singing all out of tune! -I never heard you do that before. Come, now, -let’s all sing the chorus together!”</p> - -<p>Mary Ellen’s voice rose, rich and melodious, -above the other two as the music made its mournful -plaint through the simple lines:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="first2">“Oh, my poor Nellie Gray,</div> -<div class="verse">They have taken her away,</div> -<div class="verse">And I’ll never see my darling any more!”</div> -</div></div> - -<p>The men were going through the rooms upstairs -and one of them said to another, as he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_285">[285]</span> -stopped to listen, “That girl can sing, can’t she?”</p> - -<p>Rhoda heard them coming downstairs and -knew that Marcia was looking at her with eyes -wide and face a little pale. Would they come in? -Suddenly she was aware that her nerves were -steady and strong as steel and that her heart was -beating as calmly as ever. “Now for the next -verse, Marcia!” and her fingers moved across the -keys. Then she heard the men at the door.</p> - -<p>“There’s some one in the hall. I must see what -they want,” she said, rising and casting an encouraging -smile at Miss Kimball. Marcia gazed -at her wonderingly as she moved calmly across -the room and then, feeling the contagion of her -courage, turned quickly to Mary Ellen, and to -draw her attention away from the door so that she -would not face it, began asking her what other -songs she knew.</p> - -<p>“Excuse me, Miss Ware, for disturbing you and -your friends,” Marshal Hanscomb was saying, -“but my duties under the law make it necessary for -me to search your house.”</p> - -<p>“Certainly, Mr. Hanscomb. Come in if you -wish to. Miss Kimball is here—I think you know -her—and the other lady is my friend, Miss Dunstable, -from Cincinnati, who has been visiting me -for the last week.”</p> - -<p>The marshal stepped inside, his assistants close -behind him. Rhoda cast a single glance toward -the piano and saw thankfully that Marcia was still<span class="pagenum" id="Page_286">[286]</span> -holding Mary Ellen’s attention. “If only she -won’t look around,” was her anxious thought. -Then turning to the marshal she said seriously, -with a gentle smile:</p> - -<p>“You see, there’s no one else visible in here, -Mr. Hanscomb, but if you want to look under -the piano and up the chimney—” she stopped on -a rising inflection and looked at him gravely. His -eyes flashed, but he merely sent an inquiring glance -around the room, saw that there were no closets -or recesses, and then moved toward the door, saying, -“Thank you, Miss Ware.”</p> - -<p>Rhoda closed the door behind him and leaned -against it while she drew a long breath and pressed -her lips together tightly for a moment. Then -she went back to the piano saying, “Now, Marcia, -suppose we let Mary Ellen sing that next verse all -alone. I want you to hear her.”</p> - -<p>The men on the veranda steps, taking their -departure, paused and listened to the closing lines -as Mary Ellen, in a voice of mournful sweetness, -sang on alone:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="first2">“They have taken her to Georgia,</div> -<div class="verse">For to wear her life away,</div> -<div class="verse">As she toils in the cotton and the cane.”</div> -</div></div> - -<p>“That girl makes a right good imitation of the -way a darkey’s voice sounds,” said the one who -had spoken before. “I reckon she’s practised it.”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_287">[287]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXI</h2> -</div> - -<p>Rhoda’s heart was high with expectation of -success when she and Mary Ellen started upon the -journey to Cleveland. The runaway, in her new -gown and a bonnet and veil, played her part perfectly, -and Rhoda told her father that he might -expect her back in a few days with the news that -all had gone well. “And I,” she added to herself, -“shall then be able to feel that I have paid off -Jeff’s debt of wrongdoing to this poor girl.”</p> - -<p>As they were going on board the steamboat Jim -came hurrying down to the landing from the post-office -with the morning mail, which contained a -letter for Rhoda. She saw that it was from Charlotte, -and put it unopened into her pocket to read -later. For, notwithstanding her inward assurance -that her adventure could not fail, she felt anxious -about the short time they would have to remain -on the river boat. Slave traders and their agents -and slave catchers were constantly journeying up -and down the river, and if one of these who had -appraised Mary Ellen in her days of bondage -should happen to see her he might recognize her -as Lear White. She kept her charge engaged in -conversation, the better to carry out the pretense<span class="pagenum" id="Page_288">[288]</span> -that they were two ladies traveling together, and -warned her not to raise her veil.</p> - -<p>The transfer to the canal boat safely made, -Rhoda felt much less anxious and relaxed a little -of her care. They sat upon the deck, and Mary -Ellen lifted her veil now and then, the better to -see the succession of charming views through which -they passed. The wooded hills were ablaze with -autumn foliage and these alternated with open -lands where fields of brown stubble, acres of -ripened corn, pasturing cattle and busy farm yards -told of autumn’s rewards for the year’s labor. -Mary Ellen was much interested in all this and had -many questions to ask as to how the work was -done and whether or not it would be the same in -Canada. Several hours passed in this way before -Rhoda bethought her again of the letter from -Charlotte. Smiling at thought of the enthusiastic -account it would contain of the round of pleasures -since her last missive, she took it from her pocket -and drew a little apart, while Mary Ellen became -engrossed in looking at a town which they were -approaching. A number of people were at the -landing and she gazed at them, the tree-shaded -streets, the buildings and the church spires with -the self-forgetfulness of a child amid new surroundings.</p> - -<p>Instead of the long letter she expected Rhoda -found in the envelope a single sheet and dashed -across the middle of it the one sentence, “I told<span class="pagenum" id="Page_289">[289]</span> -you I’d soon be engaged, and I am! Charlotte.”</p> - -<p>The words danced and blurred before her eyes -as she stared at them, all her attention indrawn -to the pain in her breast. This, then, was all love -meant to a man—the whim of a moment or a -month, ready to be captured by the first pretty -girl who made the effort. Had it not been the -same with Horace Hardaker? Why should she -have expected Jeff’s love to be of any more substantial -fiber? And, moreover, what right had she -to expect or wish him to be faithful to her? But -her quivering heart cried out that if he had loved -as she did he would have been faithful, even unto -death. And down in the bottom of her soul she -knew that her pain was not all for his lost love, -that some of it, much of it, was for her ideal of his -love and faith and chivalrous heart, stabbed to -death by this immediate surrender to Charlotte’s -allurements.</p> - -<p>“Miss Rhoda! Miss Rhoda! Miss Rhoda!”</p> - -<p>The frightened cry, repeated over and over, -seeming at first to come out of some far-off space, -pierced her indrawn consciousness. She looked -up in a dazed way, her thoughts stumbling back -slowly to her surroundings. Then she saw that -Mary Ellen, between two men, was being hustled -off the boat.</p> - -<p>She sprang after them and seized the arm of -one of the men. “What are you doing?” she demanded.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_290">[290]</span>“You’ll soon find out what you’ve been doing!” -the man replied.</p> - -<p>“This is an outrage!” Rhoda exclaimed. “Let -this woman go, or I shall have you arrested! She -is Miss Dunstable of Cincinnati, and is traveling -with me. Let her go, I say!”</p> - -<p>The man laughed and pushed on. “No, she -ain’t. She’s Lear White and she’s a slave and -belongs to William H. Burns. I’m his agent and -I was with him when he bought her and helped to -take her and the rest of his gang to Louisville, -where she give him the slip. I come up through -this black abolition country to watch for her, and -I knew her the minute I set eyes on her, though -you have got her fixed up so fine.”</p> - -<p>With one sweep of his handkerchief across her -cheek, he exposed a broad stripe of browner skin. -He laughed contemptuously, and a number of -others who had gathered round them on the landing -laughed also. Rhoda heard the epithet, -“nigger-thief,” in derisive tones passed from one -to another. She knew well that if the crowd’s -sympathies were with him there was no telling -what it might do. Gripping his arm with both -hands and bracing herself against his effort to -move on, she faced about, head high and eyes -flashing, and cried:</p> - -<p>“Is there no one here who will help me to save -this poor girl?”</p> - -<p>Then she was aware that from the back of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_291">[291]</span> -concourse some men were pushing their way toward -her. She struggled against the efforts of Mary -Ellen’s captors to go on and would not release -her hold of the one next her, thinking that here -might be deliverance, or, at least, help. As they -came nearer she saw that one was in Quaker garb, -and her hopes rose. In the matter of a runaway -slave there was no doubting on which side would -be the active sympathy and assistance of a Friend. -In response to his inquiry she told him her own -and her father’s name.</p> - -<p>“Yes, yes,” he said heartily, “I’ve heard of -Dr. Ware.” He glanced at Mary Ellen, dumb and -patient between her captors, then back at Rhoda, -and understanding flashed between their eyes.</p> - -<p>“Don’t be afraid,” he said. “Thee’ll soon find -friends here, who’ll do their best to bring things -out all right for thee and for her too.”</p> - -<p>They moved on, the mob around them rapidly -increasing. By the looks of the men and the -remarks which reached her ears she knew that it -was, for the most part, pro-slavery in feeling. The -Quaker was walking beside her, but his companions -had disappeared. Presently he whispered:</p> - -<p>“The marshal will be here soon. Perhaps thee -could slip away and hide. There’ll be help if thee -wants to try it.”</p> - -<p>Rhoda shook her head and whispered back: -“No, no. I mustn’t leave her.”</p> - -<p>In a whisper so low it barely reached her ears<span class="pagenum" id="Page_292">[292]</span> -she heard him say: “Never mind her. She’ll be -looked after.”</p> - -<p>But before Rhoda could reply three men, pushing -their way authoritatively, were beside them, -and a moment later she found herself under arrest -and being marched along between the marshal’s -two assistants.</p> - -<p>Soon she saw that a change was taking place in -the character of the crowd. Its numbers were -being rapidly augmented, but most of those who -were joining it now were silent, and Rhoda guessed -by their looks and by the glint of an eye here and -there that they were moved by a determined purpose. -The marshal surveyed them anxiously, spoke -to his aids, and they, with Rhoda between them, -held back, then edged their way into a cross street -and let the throng surge on past them. Then they -rushed her along until they came to a two-story -brick building, where they gave her into the charge -of another official, who locked her into an upstairs -room.</p> - -<p>Through the barred windows she could see the -mob, now at a standstill half a block down the -street, eddying round the center where stood Mary -Ellen between her two captors, a drooping figure -of despair and resignation. On the outskirts and -apparently merely looking on was the Quaker, -who had told her his name was Daniel Benedict. -And still farther away her eye caught sight of a -familiar form, old and shabby, topped by a bell-crowned<span class="pagenum" id="Page_293">[293]</span> -hat, standing beside a dingy peddler’s -wagon and watching the proceedings with an interest -which broke out now and then in shrill calls -and shuffling capers.</p> - -<p>Rhoda leaned against the bars, her hands wrung -together, and waited breathlessly for what might -happen next. The men were surging and pushing -this way and that, and she soon made out a resolute -movement on the part of those who were on the -outside to force their way to the center. Many -of those who made up the nucleus had been moved -apparently by idle curiosity, and they were now -falling back, out of the way of the onward efforts -of the others.</p> - -<p>“There’s the marshal,” Rhoda exclaimed to -herself, pressing her face against the bars, “right -in front of Mary Ellen! Oh, poor, poor girl! -Surely, God won’t let them take her back! Those -men are pushing up closer! What’s the marshal -saying? Oh, he’s calling for a posse! There, -they’re fighting! Oh, see, they’ve got hold of -him!”</p> - -<p>In her excitement she was breaking into speech. -“Oh, oh! They’ve knocked down the trader!—and -the other man—Mary Ellen—they’ve got her! -They’ve got her! And they’re shooting! Oh, -again! Again!”</p> - -<p>Hands clasped hard against her heart, she stood -breathless, silent, watching the struggle, while the -sound of shots, the cries of the mob, and the shouts<span class="pagenum" id="Page_294">[294]</span> -of the officers broke the stillness of the room. -“There, they are getting her out! Oh, don’t hurt -her! Now—oh, run, Mary Ellen, run, run! Oh, -they’re helping her—two men—and another running -ahead— Oh, God, help her, help her to -safety!”</p> - -<p>She leaned against the side of the window, sight -swimming and lips trembling, as Mary Ellen and -her body-guard of rescuers, dashing down another -street, passed from her view. Then she turned -her attention back to the throng of men who -seemed now to be intricately struggling with one -another. But presently the mass began to resolve -itself. A number, which seemed to contain both -parties, for some were evidently trying to stop -or hinder the others, rushed after the slave girl -and her protectors. Many others fell back and -stood near to be on hand for the next development. -They had not long to wait, for the marshal and -his assistants, regaining their feet, speedily began -arresting their assailants. Rhoda presently saw -them marching up to the jail door with a dozen -men under guard, of whom several were wounded.</p> - -<p>A few minutes later she heard a tenor voice, -surprisingly good though somewhat cracked with -age, singing loudly in the street, “In Dixie land -I’ll take my stand.” She smiled, for she knew -the voice at once, and hurried back to the window. -Chad Wallace in his dingy peddler’s wagon was -passing the jail. His eyes were roving carelessly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_295">[295]</span> -over the front of the building and she felt sure -he saw her, although he made no sign. But he -flourished his whip in a wide circle round his head -and held it poised for a moment above his shoulder, -pointing back into the middle of his wagon.</p> - -<p>Later in the day Daniel Benedict came to see -her and gave her explanation of what had happened. -His wrinkled, benignant face and silver -gray hair seemed to her distraught heart to carry -assurance of fatherly protection.</p> - -<p>“Thy friend is safe now,” he told her, “and -not much the worse for her experience.”</p> - -<p>“I saw from that window,” she exclaimed, “the -way they got her out of the crowd. It was wonderful—just -pushing a way for her and handing -her on from one to another and protecting her with -their bodies!”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” assented the Quaker, calmly, “it was -good work, and quickly done—else, they would -not have succeeded. I could take no part in it, for, -as thee doubtless knows, it is against my principles -to offer violent resistance to the law. But,” -he hesitated a moment and Rhoda saw a twinkle -flicker across his kindly eyes, “I do not feel that -it is necessary to hinder those who think differently. -There is a pretty strong anti-slavery sentiment -here, although there is plenty for the other side -too, and we determined some time ago that not -another seeker after freedom should ever be sent -back to his chains from this place. Those who had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_296">[296]</span> -no scruples against violent resistance were to be -free to do whatever they might think best and, for -the rest of us,”—and his eyes twinkled again,—“there -would not be lacking work for us, either.”</p> - -<p>“But Mary Ellen? How did the trader get hold -of her? Do you know how it happened? I had -been so watchful, and had let her raise her veil -only now and then, when it seemed safe. I had not -left her side since we started, until just before -the awful thing happened. Then I heard her -call and they were dragging her off the boat. I -was hardly three feet away and had had my hand -off her arm, oh, it seemed hardly a minute! Have -you talked with her? Has she told you?”</p> - -<p>He nodded gravely and the suggestion of a -smile appeared about his lips. Rhoda guessed -that Mary Ellen was hidden in his house. “Yes, -I have talked with the fugitive. She was leaning -on the rail, so interested in looking at the town -and at the landing as the boat came up that she -forgot about her veil. Then, among the people -on shore she recognized the trader and was so -frightened that she seemed to lose the power of -motion. He saw her the same instant, rushed upon -the boat and seized her.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, the fault is all mine!” moaned Rhoda. -“I should not have left her, I should not have taken -my eyes off her, for one single minute! I was too -proud, Mr. Benedict, and this is my punishment. -For I thought nobody but me could get her safely<span class="pagenum" id="Page_297">[297]</span> -to Cleveland and I had been so successful with -others—and with her too—that I thought I -couldn’t fail!”</p> - -<p>“Well, she is safe again. But thee is likely to -suffer sadly for thy one moment of forgetfulness.”</p> - -<p>She told him Mary Ellen’s story, dwelling especially -upon her sufferings during her long hours -in the box. When she ended he brought his fist -down on his knee and exclaimed solemnly:</p> - -<p>“She has earned her freedom twenty times over -and she shall have it—fugitive slave law, constitution, -marshals, or presidents notwithstanding, -even if—if—Daniel Benedict has to forget his -principles for once!”</p> - -<p>The next day he came again to see her, bringing -with him his wife, a little woman in Quaker bonnet -and gown, with a strong face and a sweet smile. -Mary Ellen, they told her, had been safely started -on her way again at midnight. Chaddle Wallace -had taken her in his peddler’s wagon. Their news -well-nigh dissipated Rhoda’s anxiety. For, of all -the many fugitives he had hauled part or all the -way to the northern boundary she knew that not -one had failed to reach Canada in safety.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_298">[298]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXII</h2> -</div> - -<p>In the depths of humiliation Rhoda mourned -over the fiasco of her attempt to guide Mary Ellen -to freedom. But she soon found that the fiasco -itself was bearing a rich crop of results. She was -indicted for aiding and abetting the escape of a -runaway slave and a dozen men of the rescuing -party for obstructing the United States marshal in -the performance of his duties and preventing him -from rendering back the fugitive. The anti-slavery -side retorted by arresting Gordon, the slave trader’s -agent, and the slave catcher accompanying -him, under the state’s personal liberty law, for -kidnaping, and several members of the marshal’s -posse, who had used fire-arms, for assault with intent -to kill.</p> - -<p>As the news spread, meeting after meeting was -held all through the central and eastern part of -the state and up into the Western Reserve, denouncing -the law, expressing sympathy with its -victims and declaring the righteousness of setting -at naught its provisions. Through the southern -portion of the state and wherever there was sufficient -pro-slavery feeling to crystallize into such -action, counter-meetings were held, which reprobated -the unfairness to the South, characterized<span class="pagenum" id="Page_299">[299]</span> -in contemptuous terms the actions and principles -of believers in the “higher law,” declared them to -be traitors and called upon the Federal Government -to use stern measures in upholding the Fugitive -Slave Act.</p> - -<p>On the advice of Horace Hardaker, who was -to conduct her case, and that of the counsel for -her fellow prisoners, both Rhoda and they refused -to enter recognizance that they would appear -in court when wanted, and therefore were -compelled to remain in jail.</p> - -<p>“It’s an unrighteous law in every respect,” said -Hardaker, “and our contention will be that it is -unconstitutional and void. To consent to return -for trial under it would make tacit recognition of -its validity. And that we won’t do. Besides, -staying in jail will make martyrdom out of it, and -the effect will be all the more potent.”</p> - -<p>But Rhoda, although she saw that her failure, -in the outcome, would be of more consequence -than success would have been, felt the pangs of -humbled pride. She talked the matter over with -Rachel, Daniel Benedict’s wife. For between -her and the Quakeress a warm affection had quickly -developed. Rachel Benedict visited her as often -as the prison officials would allow, and Rhoda -soon found that the little, dove-gray figure, with -the sweet, strong face and the silver hair, was -sure to bring assuaging of her heartaches and renewal -of her spiritual strength. Without making<span class="pagenum" id="Page_300">[300]</span> -any mention of her personal affairs, Rhoda yet -found it possible to talk with her new friend with -more intimacy and with greater surety of understanding -and response than she had ever been able -to do with her mother.</p> - -<p>“I was so proud, so self-complacent,” she said, -“that I thought I could make amends to Mary -Ellen for the wrongs that had been done to her. -And I showed myself unworthy even to try. I -let her be taken, just by being wrapped up for a -few minutes in my own affairs, in something that -troubled me. Oh, it has been a bitter lesson!”</p> - -<p>“Thee seems to me to be too much troubled by -thy repentance. If thee lets it engross thee it too -will become a sin. And perhaps the sin for which -thee is repenting does not deserve so much repentance, -after all. If thee did this thing believing -in thy inmost soul that it was right and -wishing in thy inmost soul to do good to others -by means of it, then don’t disturb thy heart, Rhoda -Ware, with how it seems to have come out. It -hasn’t ended yet. And thee can be sure there is -plenty of time yet for more good to come out of -it than thee ever dreamed of.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, it didn’t make any difference to Mary -Ellen,” Rhoda answered thoughtfully, “for she -reached Canada just as safely as if I’d taken her -all the way myself. But such an awful wrong -had been done to her,—it seemed more horrible -than any other case I had known about, and I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_301">[301]</span> -wanted to suffer for it myself. I wanted to make -atonement for another person’s sin. And it has -all ended in failure!”</p> - -<p>“Well, isn’t thee suffering for it? Isn’t thee -suffering a great deal more than if thee had been -successful? But don’t delude thyself, Rhoda -Ware, by thinking thee can do any good by suffering -for another person’s sins. We have got -to sweat and suffer stripes ourselves for the evil -that is in us if we are to be purged of our sins!”</p> - -<p>At her window that night, Rhoda pondered -long upon these words. “I suppose Mrs. Benedict -is right,” she said to herself finally. “It was -only my pride—and my love, that made me think -I could atone for even this one bit of his wrongdoing. -He will have to suffer for it, for all of -it, himself, before he can see that it is wrong. -And we shall all have to suffer, North and South -alike, for this awful sin of slavery, for the North -is to blame almost as much as the South.</p> - -<p>“‘Sweat and suffer stripes’! Bloody sweat, -father thinks it will be,—he is so sure that it will -end in war. Will it come in our time? Oh, -surely, things cannot go on like this much longer! -So much anger on both sides, so much indignation -in the North, so many threats in the South—and -all getting worse and worse every year—Oh, if -war is to be the end, we must be getting nearly -there! War!”</p> - -<p>She shivered and pressed her hands against her<span class="pagenum" id="Page_302">[302]</span> -face. As the grisly specter of blood and smoke -passed vaguely before her mind’s eye her anxious -thoughts hovered with instant anxiety over the -dear image of him who she knew would be among -the first to challenge the issue. Then with a little -cry she sprang to her feet.</p> - -<p>“Shall I never remember I must not think of -him like that!” she asked herself with bitterness. -“My sister’s husband! O, God, help me to forget!” -She paced about the room with frowning -brows and lips pressed hard together, telling herself, -as she had already done a hundred times, that -she must learn to forget, as it had been so easy for -him to do. And there she touched upon her -deepest wound, that his love had not been as fine -and as true as she had thought it.</p> - -<p>“How could he love another—so different—and -wish to marry her, after all that has passed between -us? I could not—how could he?” was -the question that would come back, again and -again. She tried to subdue it by telling herself -that since he could, since his love and faith were -not equal to hers, he was not worthy of her love -and deserved only forgetfulness complete, eternal. -But her heart cried out fiercely against this edict -of her brain and clung to its need of believing in -him.</p> - -<p>“He is fine and noble in many, many ways,” at -last she said to herself, “in nearly all ways the -finest and the noblest man I’ve ever known, and if<span class="pagenum" id="Page_303">[303]</span> -his love fell short of all I thought it was, I must -try to forgive him that, as I forgive him his blindness -about the wickedness of slavery, which kept -us apart, and, I suppose—deep down in my heart—I -suppose—I’ll always love him. But I’ll try, -oh, I’ll try from this minute, always to think of -him as Charlotte’s husband. He mustn’t be Jeff -to me any more—just Charlotte’s husband! Charlotte’s -husband!”</p> - -<p>During her days in jail she spent much time -embroidering dainty things for Charlotte’s trousseau, -and into these she found herself able to -stitch, along with the tears that would fall now -and then, prayers and hopes for Charlotte’s happiness -and earnest desires, since the marriage must -be, that she would make her husband happy. But -on this latter question she found herself haunted -by a doubt that would yield to no arguments based -on the sequence of love and happiness.</p> - -<p>Charlotte and Mrs. Ware returned home immediately -after Rhoda’s arrest and it was some -time, after her sister’s first brief announcement of -her engagement, before she heard again from -either of them. And afterward their letters -were filled mainly with accounts of their plans and -preparations for Charlotte’s trousseau and wedding. -In her replies she could not bring herself -to write Jeff’s name and so referred to him only -as “Charlotte’s lover,” or “Charlotte’s intended.” -She noticed too that her mother spoke of him only<span class="pagenum" id="Page_304">[304]</span> -in the same way while her sister wrote of him as -“he,” in capital letters.</p> - -<p>“They are afraid of hurting my feelings by -mentioning his name,” I suppose, Rhoda said to -herself. “I must get used to it, but—I’m glad -they don’t.”</p> - -<p>Charlotte’s letters were brief and infrequent -and each one contained, in addition to talk about -her bridal plans, advice in plenty on the propriety -of Rhoda’s giving up her “nigger thieving” and -her black abolition acquaintance, now that the -family was identified with southern interests.</p> - -<p>“Dear little sister!” Rhoda would say to herself -with an indulgent smile as she read these -admonitions. “She’s such a child, and she’s so -positive she knows all about it! I wonder if she’ll -ever really grow up!”</p> - -<p>But her mother’s letters gave her much concern. -Her arrest and imprisonment had caused -Mrs. Ware severe shock and deep grief and her -heart was wrung that the necessity was upon her -to cause so much suffering.</p> - -<p>“I must do whatever I can,” she moaned. “It’s -on my conscience and I must, and I can’t be sorry -I did this, dear, dear mother, even for your sake. -I couldn’t live if I didn’t do my best to fight this -awful evil!”</p> - -<p>Evidently, too, Mrs. Ware was not well. The -physical ailments that had interfered with her -enjoyment of her visit to Fairmount had grown<span class="pagenum" id="Page_305">[305]</span> -worse since her return. Notwithstanding all this -the mother heart of her yearned over and wished -to be with her first-born. But to this desire Rhoda -gave constant denial, lest her burden of grief and -pain be made harder to bear.</p> - -<p>Dr. Ware came to see his daughter as often as -his practice would allow, but his visits were necessarily -brief and infrequent. He spoke occasionally -of Charlotte’s engagement and Rhoda thought -he seemed pleased with it.</p> - -<p>“It’s a very good thing, I guess,” he said one -day, with a cheerfulness that gave Rhoda a little -twinge of unhappiness.</p> - -<p>“But he always has loved Charlotte so much,” -she thought, “and wanted her to have everything -she wanted that he’d be glad to have her happy -no matter if—”</p> - -<p>“She’ll be in harmony with her surroundings -and he seems to be very much in love with her,” -Dr. Ware went on. Rhoda turned quickly away -lest he see the little spasm of pain that she felt -sure was showing itself upon her countenance.</p> - -<p>“Your mother, of course, is deeply pleased,” -he continued. “I don’t know but it is giving her -almost as much pleasure as your marriage would -have done. It will be a good thing for Charlotte -to be married happily and settled down. She’ll -come out all right. I never have had any doubts -about her, in the long run, because she’s so much -like what her mother was at her age.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_306">[306]</span>Horace Hardaker came often to consult with -Rhoda in the preparation of her case. He hoped -to make a telling presentment and was enthusiastic -over the excitement that already had been aroused.</p> - -<p>“Of course,” he said to her one day in the early -winter, when the date set for her trial was almost -at hand, “the law and the facts are all against us. -The only thing we can do is to appeal to the sentiment -against the law. Whether we lose or win, -the affair is making a big breeze that’s going to -be bigger yet!”</p> - -<p>“You know, Horace,” she replied, “that I -don’t care in the least what they do with me,—except -on mother’s account. What I want most is -to help all I can in the fight against slavery and if -it will do more good for me to stay in jail than to -go home and work with the Underground again, -why then—” she looked straight at him and a -smile flashed from her lips up into her eyes—“in -jail let me stay!”</p> - -<p>He smiled back at her and his blue eyes lighted -with admiration as he laid one hand for a moment -over hers. “Rhoda, I’ve told you this before, -but I must say it again, and I shall always say it—you’re -the grandest girl there is anywhere!”</p> - -<p>After he was gone she sat with a tender smile -on her lips. “Dear Horace!” she was thinking. -“Such a good friend as he is! Sound and true to -the bottom of his heart! Why didn’t I happen -to fall in love with him?... Well, it seems to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_307">[307]</span> -be getting nearly time—for me to refuse him -again!”</p> - -<p>It was within a day or two of the opening of -her trial, which was to be the first of the series, -when Rhoda finally brought herself to the point -of writing to Jefferson Delavan. Many times -she had told herself that, since he was to marry her -sister, she ought to let him know that in her heart -were only wishes for his happiness. But it had -been a hard thing to do and she had postponed it -from week to week. At last, her sense of duty -would be put off no longer and she resolutely faced -the heartache that she knew the task would make -all the more poignant.</p> - -<p>“Dear Friend,” she wrote. “Charlotte has -told me of the happiness that came to her and to -you during her visit to Fairmount. I am sure -you will believe me when I say it is my most -earnest wish that that happiness will never be any -less than it is now and that it will grow greater -during the many long years of wedded life that I -hope are before you. In your and her feelings -and convictions there is nothing to divide you, -nothing to prevent the complete union of hearts -and souls which is the only thing that can make -marriage worth while. I am sure, since you love -her, that you will always be very tender to Charlotte. -To me she has always been just ‘little -sister’ and it is difficult for me to realize that she -is really a woman and about to become a wife.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_308">[308]</span> -At home we have always spoiled her and that has -made her, sometimes, in a merry way, rather ruthless -of other people’s feelings. But I have no -doubt your love will make you understand that -this is only on the surface and that her heart is -true and loving. For you both, dear friend, soon -to be brother, my heart is full of every good wish. -Always your friend, Rhoda”—she paused here, -on the point of signing her name in the old way, -but “Adeline” seemed sacred to those other days -and to the love that had been between them then, -and she could not write it here. So she added -only “Ware” and quickly folded and sealed the -letter.</p> - -<p>As she looked at the envelope it seemed as if it -were the coffin of her love, ready for burial, as if -she had said a last good-by to all the pleasure it -had brought into her heart. Now only the pain -was left. She bowed her head upon her hands -and some scalding drops trickled through her -fingers. Her jailer’s knock sounded at the door -and she sprang to her feet and dried her eyes. -Hardly had she time to control her sobs when it -opened and Jefferson Delavan crossed the threshold.</p> - -<p>His look was deeply earnest and intent upon -her as he moved forward, holding out both hands -and saying, “Rhoda! I could stay away no longer!”</p> - -<p>“Jeff!” she faltered, stepping back. “I—I—had -just written to you!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_309">[309]</span>“Written to me! Rhoda! Did you ask me -to come?”</p> - -<p>There was no mistaking the look of glad surprise -and love that suddenly broke over his countenance. -Rhoda gazed at him in perplexity and -instinctively pressed one hand against her heart, -as if to keep down the responsive love that was -trying to leap upward, as she said to herself, -“Charlotte’s husband! Charlotte’s husband!”</p> - -<p>Still moving backward, away from him, as he -followed her across the room exclaiming again, -“Sweetheart, did you ask me to come?” her bewildered, -apprehensive thought sprang to the conclusion -that she must make him be true to Charlotte, -that she must not let him betray the “little -sister.”</p> - -<p>“Charlotte—” she ejaculated—“your engagement—I -wrote to wish you happiness!”</p> - -<p>He stopped short and stared at her with puzzled -eyes. “What under heaven do you mean?”</p> - -<p>“Why, your engagement to my sister! Aren’t -you going to marry Charlotte?”</p> - -<p>“Assuredly, I’m not!” was his quick and -emphatic answer.</p> - -<p>“Have you—have you—broken it off, then—so -soon?” She was moving her trembling hands -over each other, unable to keep them still, and -holding her face half averted, afraid to look at -him save in brief glances, lest her eyes might -betray the love that was swelling in her heart.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_310">[310]</span>“You are talking in puzzles, Rhoda! I’ve -never had the faintest desire to marry Charlotte, -or anybody but you.”</p> - -<p>Her face dropped lower and her bosom heaved. -What could it all mean? Had they been deceiving -her? And why? “She said—that is—I -understood—” she stumbled. Then he broke in -upon her embarrassed bewilderment.</p> - -<p>“She didn’t say she was going to marry me, did -she? Lloyd Corey is the happy man. It was -love at first sight, of the most violent sort, with -him, and he would take nothing but an outright -‘yes’ for his answer, and that inside of two weeks. -It was a pretty little love comedy, and I wished -a hundred times that you were there to watch it -with me.”</p> - -<p>She moved unsteadily to a chair and sank down, -her face in her hands. It had been such tragedy -to her! And now it was taking all her self-control -to hold herself firmly in hand under the reaction. -At once he was beside her, dropping -upon one knee and trying to take her hands from -her face. “What is it, Rhoda? What is the -matter? Look at me, dearest!”</p> - -<p>“Yes, Jeff—let me realize—wait—one moment!” -He watched her anxiously, her hands in -his, as with a deep, long breath, a tension of the -muscles and a pressing together of her lips she -regained control of herself. She withdrew her<span class="pagenum" id="Page_311">[311]</span> -hands and slowly lifted her face as he rose to his -feet.</p> - -<p>“It’s nothing, Jeff—no, I don’t mean that—it -is so much. But—I thought—Charlotte led me -to think that—she was going to marry you—and -now—to find that you’re not—that you still—” -She stopped and half turned away her face, trying -to hide the confession she knew was there of all -it meant to find that his love was still her own. -But already he had seen enough to set his heart on -fire and he sprang toward her, as if to take her -in his arms.</p> - -<p>“And you cared so much? Rhoda, deny me -no longer!”</p> - -<p>She drew away from him and said humbly: -“Can you forgive me, Jeff? Indeed, I would not -have thought it possible, but it seemed to have -happened. It was just one of Charlotte’s tricks.”</p> - -<p>“Forgive you, dear heart? I do not think you -could do anything that I would not forgive!”</p> - -<p>Her glance swept the room. Then she looked -up at him with a smile and said significantly, -“Even this?”</p> - -<p>“Even this, Rhoda, else I would not be here. -I held out against the pleading of my heart as long -as I could. But I longed so much to see you and -wanted so much to help you, that I couldn’t stay -away any longer. I’ve come, dear, to beg you -once more to be my wife. Let me give you, at -once, the protection of my name—”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_312">[312]</span>She drew back and lifted her head proudly. -“I have already the protection of my father’s -name and the approval of my conscience. I should -feel myself a coward, and a traitor to myself, if I -tried to crawl under any other now.”</p> - -<p>“I understand what you mean—and I beg your -pardon. But we both know now, more surely than -we knew before, how necessary we are to each -other, how deep and true and everlasting our love -is. Don’t you realize that neither of us can ever -be happy until we have joined our lives together? -What are the days and the weeks for us now but -just a constant yearning for each other’s presence. -Look forward, Rhoda, to months and years of -that, think of how much more life will mean for -us both, if only you will give up and listen to -what your heart tells you.”</p> - -<p>She had risen and was standing beside her chair, -one hand on its back. He came close to her and -rested his hand near hers. She was conscious too -that his other arm was outstretched behind her, -hovering close, ready to sweep her into his embrace. -The struggle in her heart, longing to -heed the call of his, quick with desire to make -amends for the injustice she had done him, -tumultuous with rejoicing that his love had been -all she had thought it, was almost more than she -could bear. He was so near—she had only to -lean toward him a little, and his arm would be -around her and her head upon his breast. Ah,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_313">[313]</span> -the blessed peace there would be in that haven of -repose! Already she could feel its stilling waters -wrapping round her, numbing the power of resistance.</p> - -<p>He leaned a little nearer and his voice was low -and compellingly sweet, “Rhoda! Come to my -arms, where you belong! Do not deny our love -any longer!”</p> - -<p>She saw his hand on the back of the chair moving -instinctively toward her own,—a sinewy, -brown, masterful hand, which held her eyes as it -drew nearer, little by little, as if drawn by some -irresistible attraction. She knew that his eyes in -that same way were fixed upon her own, long, -slender, nervous, the sort of hand that works out -the behests of a strenuous soul. And she knew, -also, as she waited, silent, trying to force herself -to voice once more the dictates of her conscience, -she knew that, if his hand touched hers before she -could bring herself to speak, she could resist no -longer. Still she stood, speechless, her fascinated -eyes upon his masterful hand, her body thrilling -with the surety that if she did not speak now, at -once, in another moment she would be in his arms, -and the struggle over.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="first2">“Oh, my poor Nellie Gray,</div> -<div class="verse">They have taken her away,</div> -<div class="verse">And I’ll never see my darling any more!”</div> -</div></div> - -<p>The words of the negro song, in a negro<span class="pagenum" id="Page_314">[314]</span> -woman’s voice, came floating into the room, -mingled with the sounds of broom and scrubbing -brush. They brought to Rhoda instant memory -of Mary Ellen’s melodious tones, singing in happy -unconsciousness of peril, and of her own strained -and fearful attention as she listened to the footsteps -steps of the marshal’s posse. And then like a -flash passed before her mind’s eye the ashen face -and shaking figure of Mary Ellen, as her father -and Jim lifted her from the box that had almost -been her deathbed.</p> - -<p>The numbing waters fell away, she raised her -hand and pressed it against her heart with the -impulsive, unconscious gesture he knew so well, -and moved apart.</p> - -<p>“Jeff, it’s no use talking any more about this,” -she said in tremulous accents. “The last time we -said all that is to be said.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t say that! It makes everything so bare -and hopeless! It makes me fear that you have -killed your love. Rhoda, you do love me, yet?”</p> - -<p>She turned slowly toward him and lifted her -downcast face, alight with all the glow that was -in her heart. “Jeff,” and the word as it came -from her tenderly smiling lips was a caress, “Jeff, -I love you so much that my heart has made me -forgive you even that you allowed Mary Ellen—Lear -White—to be sold.”</p> - -<p>“My sweet! And I love you so much that my<span class="pagenum" id="Page_315">[315]</span> -heart has made me forgive even your stealing her -away!”</p> - -<p>For a moment it seemed to them that gray eyes -and brown melted into each other. And then the -comedy of their cross-conscienced hearts struck -her sense of humor, the corners of her mouth -trembled and deepened and a smile flashed over -her face and sparkled in her eyes. At that they -both laughed, softly, in the tenderness of perfect -understanding. Then she saw the old baffled, -determined look overspread his face as turning -sharply he strode across the room and back.</p> - -<p>“My God, Rhoda! Why have our hearts -snared us into this misery? Why don’t you -loathe me as you do all that I believe in and stand -for? Why can’t I condemn and scorn you as I -do all the rest of your tribe? Why must I, when -I detest and am injured by what is dearest to you, -still see in you my ideal of all that is lovable and -womanly? My love, my love, why can’t I hate -you instead of loving you so that you are the only -woman in all the world I want for my wife? Must -our love be forever a curse instead of a blessing?”</p> - -<p>He flung himself into a chair beside the table, -every muscle of his body expressive of anger and -rebellion at the mysterious forces of human life -that had played this scurvy trick upon them, -pitted against each other loving heart and steadfast -conscience and left them, like two cocks in a -pit, to fight it out in a struggle to the death.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_316">[316]</span>Did they laugh at him and at her, those Caliban -spirits of the universe, that with grim and -cruel humor are forever setting human purpose -awry and sending it, lop-sided and ludicrous, far -aside its mark? Did they laugh and cheer and -find pleasure in that struggle, the sure result of -the innate upward-strivingness of the human soul, -like human beings around a cock-pit betting upon -which instinct, which spirit, which physique, shall -prove the stronger? Or, perhaps, was Caliban -pushed aside by some Angel of the Sword, infinitely -just and infinitely merciful, that with stern -lips whispered to pitying eyes, “No, let them -struggle, for only by struggling, even to the uttermost, -can their souls grow!”</p> - -<p>Softly Rhoda came near, hesitatingly put forth -one hand and let it rest for an instant upon his -arm. At her touch he straightened up and unconsciously -one hand sought the place upon his -arm where hers had lain. “I don’t believe, dear, -it will be forever. I don’t believe it will be very -much longer.”</p> - -<p>“What do you mean, Rhoda?” he cried, springing -up. “Do you really think there is hope for -us?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, Jeff, I do. But I don’t suppose you’ll -see it as I do. It’s only that I think,” she was -speaking timidly, and yet with a grave eagerness -of voice and manner, “and so do a good many of -us, that slavery can’t last much longer. We feel<span class="pagenum" id="Page_317">[317]</span> -sure that its end is bound to come, in one way or -another, and that before long. And when slavery -is swept away, Jeff, and the whole country is clean -of it, then there will be no gulf between us!”</p> - -<p>Her serious eyes were luminous as they met his -unbelieving ones and in her face was the subdued -glow of one who looks afar off upon a land of -promise and knows that toward it his feet are set. -Love and disbelief were mingled in the somber -countenance he bent upon her.</p> - -<p>“No, Rhoda, I do not agree with you. And -much as I love you, sweet, I would not, if I could, -purchase our happiness at such a cost. I would -not, if I could, be such a traitor to the South. But -I shall always love you, dear heart, and I shall -always hope that you will yet be mine.” He -held her hand tenderly for a moment in both of -his, pressed it to his lips, bowed gravely, and left -the room.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_318">[318]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXIII</h2> -</div> - -<p>“It’s going to be a good speech, Horace, and it -will surely attract attention,” said Rhoda Ware -to her counsel on the day before the opening of -her trial.</p> - -<p>Hardaker had just gone over with her an outline -of the address he would make in summing up -her case. It was intended for the people outside -the court room, near and far, who would talk -about it and read it in the newspapers, quite as -much as for the ears of the jurors. So high and -strong had risen the feeling on the slavery question -that in some parts of Ohio, as well as elsewhere, -the lawyer who devoted energy and ability -to the defense of captured fugitives and their helpers -could be sure of early and ample political reward. -Hardaker was ambitious. He meant, as -soon as he could reach an opening door, to enter -upon a public career and he had mapped out for -himself election to Congress, and after that a -steady ascent to high places in national affairs—such -a career as, half a century ago, engaged the -talents and aspirations of ten times as many eager -and capable young men as now think it worth -consideration. The fact is an ugly one and not -creditable to the quality of our national growth.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_319">[319]</span>But for Horace Hardaker in this present case -the spurrings of ambition were only an added incentive. -His conviction was profound that slavery -was an evil and the Fugitive Slave Act a monstrous -law and his desire to oppose either or both -or anything that tended to strengthen the institution -of slavery amounted to a passion. And, in -addition to these motives, his intimate friendship -with Dr. Ware and his love for Rhoda incited him -to exert himself to the utmost in her defense.</p> - -<p>“I hope it will, Rhoda,” he replied, “but I’m -doubtful if it will do you any good. Your violation -of the law was open and flagrant and we -don’t want to deny it or attempt to mitigate it in -the least.”</p> - -<p>“Indeed we don’t.”</p> - -<p>“The decision in the case, then, will depend -entirely on the political sympathies of the jury, -and the other side is not likely to allow any man -on it who has anti-slavery convictions. It would -be a victory worth while, Rhoda, if I could get -you off! Not only for you, which would gratify -me enough, but for the anti-slavery cause! To -have conviction refused in a case as bare-faced as -this would be a big blow toward making the Fugitive -Slave law a dead letter!”</p> - -<p>“If I could think,” said Rhoda earnestly, “that -any act of mine would help to bring that about, -I’d be willing to undergo this all over again.”</p> - -<p>He looked at her admiringly and drew his chair<span class="pagenum" id="Page_320">[320]</span> -nearer, as he said: “Well, you can rest assured -that your attempt to help Mary Ellen is having -important results. And the waves are spreading -out and getting bigger, Rhoda!” Another hitch -brought his chair still closer.</p> - -<p>“I’m glad of that, and I want you to remember, -Horace, when you are making your speech, that -you are not to consider me or my sentence at all. -Say the thing that will help toward what we all -want. Don’t think about me—just think about -Mary Ellen and what she was willing to undergo, -and all the rest of those poor black creatures that -are longing so for their freedom.”</p> - -<p>His chair was beside hers now and he was seizing -her hand. “Rhoda! Not think about you! -How can I help it? Don’t you know I’m always -thinking about you and always hoping that some -day you’ll think better about what I’ve been hoping -for so long? Isn’t there any chance, any -prospect of a chance, for me yet?”</p> - -<p>She laid her free hand upon his two that were -clasping hers. “I’m sorry, Horace! You know -how much I like you, how much I prize your -friendship—but you are like a dear brother to -me, Horace, and I can’t think of you any other -way!”</p> - -<p>“But isn’t it possible that sometime—don’t you -think, Rhoda, that after a while you’ll learn to -like me the other way too? You know what I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_321">[321]</span> -am, you know how much I love you—won’t my -heart’s love draw yours, after a while?”</p> - -<p>She shook her head and drew her hands away. -“No, Horace, there isn’t any hope, not the least -in the world. And I wish, dear Horace, I wish -you would put it quite out of your mind. Don’t -waste any more time thinking about me. There -is many a nice girl who would make you a good -wife, and I do wish, Horace, for your own sake, -you would fall in love with one and marry her.”</p> - -<p>He looked at her searchingly. “When a girl -talks that way she really means it.”</p> - -<p>“You know I mean it, Horace.”</p> - -<p>“I mean, Rhoda, that she knows her own heart, -clear through, and feels sure about it.”</p> - -<p>“That’s the way I know mine,” she answered -softly.</p> - -<p>He seized her hand again as he exclaimed, -“Does that mean, Rhoda, that there is some one -else and that your heart is full already?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, Horace. It means that I love some one -else so deeply that I can never have a love thought -for any other man. I love him with all my heart, -although I don’t suppose I shall ever marry him. -But I shall never marry any one else, and I could -no more think of you or any one else with the kind -of love you want than I could if I were his wife.”</p> - -<p>There was something like reverence in the -gesture with which he put down her hand. “Then -that is the end of it for me, Rhoda. Would you<span class="pagenum" id="Page_322">[322]</span> -mind telling me, is it that”—he paused an instant, -supplying mentally the adjective with which he -usually thought of Rhoda’s lover—“slaveholder, -Delavan, from Kentucky?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, Horace.”</p> - -<p>He rose and took up his hat. “If that’s the -way it is with you,” he began, then stopped, looking -fixedly. “Poor girl!” he went on, resting his -hand lightly for an instant upon her head. “You -ought to have had a happier fate!”</p> - -<p>“It’s as good as I deserve, Horace,” she replied -cheerfully. Then her face lighted with the -glow that had been in her heart since Delavan’s -visit, and she went on: “And it might have been -so much worse!”</p> - -<p>That same glow, as of profound inward happiness, -was upon her countenance the next day as -she sat in the court room. On one side of her -was her father and on the other sat Rachel Benedict, -with wrinkled hands primly folded in the lap -of her plain gray gown, her kindly, bright old -eyes and sweet smile bent now and then upon her -young friend as she whispered some encouraging -word. Behind her were Mrs. Hardaker and -Marcia Kimball and other friends from the Hillside -Female Anti-Slavery Society.</p> - -<p>In the back of the room, throughout the trial, -sat Jefferson Delavan. He was always in his -place in the same seat, when she entered, and -their eyes would meet once and a faint smile play<span class="pagenum" id="Page_323">[323]</span> -around her lips for an instant. Then she would -not look again in his direction, but her face kept -always its glow of inward happiness.</p> - -<p>Horace Hardaker sat with his gaze moodily -fixed upon Delavan’s dark head. Jeff’s eyes were -upon Rhoda’s face and Hardaker felt resentfully -that within their depths must lie some hint of the -lover’s yearning. It was almost time for him to -begin his address. But his thoughts were not -upon what he was about to say nor upon how he -could most move the jury. Instead they were -busy, with indignant wonder, upon how “that -damned slaveholder” had contrived to win the rich -and undying love of such a girl as Rhoda Ware.</p> - -<p>For the way of a man with a maid is always a -sealed book to other men. A woman can guess, -or she knows instinctively, how and why another -woman has won a man’s love. But the side of a -man’s nature with which he does his wooing is so -different from any manifestation of himself that -he makes among his fellows that to them it is an -unknown land. Therefore they are inclined to -be skeptical as to its attractiveness.</p> - -<p>But Hardaker was much more than skeptical. -He was irritated, and even angry, that “such a -man as that” should have dared to think himself -worthy of Rhoda’s love. And when he presently -rose to address the jury the rankling in his heart -lent sharper vigor to every thrust he made against -the slave power and put into his tones a savage<span class="pagenum" id="Page_324">[324]</span> -indignation as, with eyes fixed upon Delavan’s -face, he thundered his indictments.</p> - -<p>An audience of character and intelligence -crowded the court room to the doors, while outside, -in the hall and around the windows people -stood on benches, listening intently, for hours at -a time. From all over the county, from surrounding -counties, and from as far away as Cleveland, -men of substance and of prominence had -left their homes and business and journeyed hither -to listen to the proceedings and to testify by their -presence their sympathy with the defense.</p> - -<p>But the pro-slavery side also had its representatives, -although in the minority, who were of equal -consequence and standing. It was such an audience -as would gratify any attorney, wishing to -influence the community as well as the jury.</p> - -<p>As he rose for his address Hardaker presented -a manly, attractive figure and a vigorous, almost -a magnetic, personality. Sweeping the court -room with his eyes, he waited for a moment and -then began with a couplet from a popular anti-slavery -song, a song that had roused the echoes -in thousands of enthusiastic gatherings, all over -the North. No one within the reach of his voice -needed any explanation of its meaning:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="first2">“’Tis the law of God in the human soul,</div> -<div class="verse">’Tis the law in the Word Divine.”</div> -</div></div> - -<p>He quoted the injunction of the Mosaic law -against the returning of an escaped servant and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_325">[325]</span> -the commands of the New Testament for the succor -of the oppressed, and in vivid language set -them forth as the law of the Divine Word, the -command of God, and therefore infinitely more -binding upon men and women who believed in God -and accepted the Bible as his Word than any law -made by man in defiance of the Almighty’s command. -In a voice that gave full value to its -pathetic appeal he told the story of Mary Ellen’s -heroic endeavor to escape from bondage and a -fate “like unto the fires of hell.” Then he called -upon the fathers and mothers of all young girls -to tell him if the command of Christ, “Do unto -others as you would that others do unto you,” had -lost all its meaning, if humanity, Christianity, -fatherhood—even ordinary manhood—no longer -felt its force. Following the precedent set by a -number of lawyers of wide reputation he analyzed -the relation of the Fugitive Slave Act to the Constitution -and concluded that it violated the rights -guaranteed by the basic law of the country, and -therefore, since it was unconstitutional, to disregard -its provisions was not unlawful and his client -had committed no crime.</p> - -<p>“This law was passed at the behest of the -slave power,” he declared. “It was conceived in -iniquity, the iniquity of the South’s determination -to put upon slavery the seal of national approval; -it was begotten in corruption, the corruption of -compromise and bargain; and it was born in the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_326">[326]</span> -dastardly willingness of misrepresentatives of -the people to truckle to Southern arrogance and -betray the convictions and the conscience of the -North.</p> - -<p>“Shall we then, free men and women of Ohio, -betrayed as we have been and misrepresented as -we are by this so-called law, be expected to cast -aside the commands of Christianity and the obligations -of common brotherhood, transform ourselves -into bloodhounds to chase the panting fugitive -and send him back to his chains and, as in this -case, to such a hell of lust and vice as all decent -manhood and womanhood must shudder at? In -the name of all that humanity holds sacred, I -answer, no! A thousand times, no!</p> - -<p>“The learned counsel for the prosecution has -seen fit to sneer at our belief in the higher law,” -Hardaker went on, with body erect and hand upraised, -his full, melodious, resonant voice filling -the court room and the corridors and carrying -his words even into the street. “I answer that -that law has my entire allegiance and that I stand -here to defend and uphold it and to demand the -rights of those who feel bound, as I do, by its commands. -I feel assured, and you well know, gentlemen -of the jury, that I voice the sentiments of -thousands upon thousands of Christ-loving and -God-fearing men and women when I say that if -any fleeing bondman comes to me in need of -help, protection, and means of flight, so help me<span class="pagenum" id="Page_327">[327]</span> -the living God in my hour of greatest need, he -shall have them all, even to the last drop of my -life’s blood!”</p> - -<p>Like the sudden upburst of a volcano, the court room -broke into resounding applause. Men -sprang to their feet, swung their hats and cheered. -Women stood upon benches, waved handkerchiefs -and clapped their hands. The rapping of the -judge’s gavel and the cries of the officers for -“order in the court” were drowned in the uproar -and hardly reached even their own ears. Then -the sharp insistence of hisses began to be heard. -Jefferson Delavan, who had been listening with -hands clenched, frowning brows and angry eyes, -added his voice to the sounds of disapproval. For -a few minutes the tumult continued, and then, at -the judge’s order, the court officers began forcing -the people out.</p> - -<p>They poured into the street and organized a -mass-meeting in the square in front of the court -house. Numbers of men came running from all -directions and while the meeting was in progress -word filtered out that the jury had found the -prisoner guilty and the judge’s sentence had imposed -a fine of one thousand dollars and costs and -imprisonment for thirty days.</p> - -<p>Resolutions were at once passed denouncing the -judge and deciding, “since the courts no longer -dispensed justice,” to proceed to the jail, liberate -the other prisoners and protect them from the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_328">[328]</span> -operations of “an outrageously unjust and tyrannous -enactment.”</p> - -<p>Delavan, looking on at the outskirts of the -gathering, heard the resolutions. He knew that -Rhoda would soon be conducted back to her -quarters in the jail and he ran thither, hoping to -arrive before the crowd of rescuers. In custody -of the marshal she had just reached the jail -entrance.</p> - -<p>“Rhoda!” he exclaimed. “You are in danger -here! A mob is coming to break in the doors. -Marshal, bring her with me, so we can find a -place of safety for her.”</p> - -<p>She drew herself up and looked at him with the -same pale face and brilliant eyes with which in -the woods, so long ago, she had opposed his quest -for his fugitive slave. Scarcely she seemed the -same being who, only a few days before, had -almost trembled into his embrace.</p> - -<p>“No,” she said slowly, “these are my people -and with them is where I belong. This is where -your law has sent me and while I am in its power -I want no place of safety. Marshal, take me -in!”</p> - -<p>The marshal was doubtful, asked Delavan -what he meant and what he purposed to do, and -while he hesitated the mob came rushing up the -street and his only course was to hurry inside with -her and bar the door.</p> - -<p>The mass of men surged against the jail entrance<span class="pagenum" id="Page_329">[329]</span> -and with pieces of timber and bars of iron -soon forced their way in. Then they trooped -through the building, sweeping along all the prisoners -who were awaiting trial under the Fugitive -Slave law. They urged Rhoda to walk out into -freedom and defiance of her sentence. But she -smilingly shook her head and told them:</p> - -<p>“No, thank you. It’s better to serve out my -sentence, and then I’ll be free to defy the law again -in my own way.”</p> - -<p>Exultantly the throng poured out into the street -again with the prisoners, and faced two companies -of militia, ready to fire. Even the hottest heads -among them paused at this and after some parleying -they agreed to disperse and allow the men to -be taken back to confinement.</p> - -<p>Among those awaiting trial for aiding in Mary -Ellen’s rescue and escape were the pastor of the -leading Presbyterian church in the town, the -superintendent of a Methodist Sunday School, a -professor from Oberlin College who had happened -to be in the place on that day, a merchant, -two lawyers and a physician, together with some -clerks, laboring men, a farmer and several free -negroes. The day following the conclusion of -Rhoda’s trial was Sunday, and the Presbyterian -minister preached from the jail yard to a large -concourse of people who stood for two hours in a -biting wind, for it was now well on in the winter, -listening with the closest attention. The sermon,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_330">[330]</span> -which was mainly an anti-slavery address, added -fuel to the already flaming excitement.</p> - -<p>Meetings were held and bands of men began -to organize and arm themselves. Militia guarded -the jail night and day. The pro-slavery sympathizers, -though in the minority in this region, -yet made up a considerable share of the populace, -and, angered and uneasy, they also began to prepare -for whatever might happen. To hints that -the Fugitive Slave law prisoners might yet be -delivered from jail they retaliated with threats -that those of their own party who were under -durance for infraction of state laws should no -longer suffer imprisonment.</p> - -<p>So acute did the situation become that Governor -Chase hurried to Washington to consult with -President Buchanan, assuring him that while he -intended to support the federal government, as -long as its authority was exercised legitimately, -nevertheless he felt it his duty to protect the state -officials and the state courts and that this should -be done, though it took every man in the state to -do it.</p> - -<p>Finally, a compromise was arranged by which -the federal government dropped the remaining -prosecutions for the escape of Mary Ellen and -released the prisoners, while the state authorities -dismissed the suits against the slave trader’s agent -and his companion and the members of the marshal’s -posse.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_331">[331]</span>The episode was amicably settled, but the flames -of contention had been so fed by it that they -mounted higher and higher. Meetings continued -to be held all over those portions of the state -where anti-slavery sentiment was strong. They -culminated, soon after Rhoda’s release, in an immense -mass-convention at Cleveland attended by -many thousand people and addressed by public -men of distinction, where, amid the greatest -enthusiasm, resolutions were passed denouncing -the Dred Scott decision and declaring the Fugitive -Slave Act unconstitutional and therefore void.</p> - -<p>In the pocket of the dress she had worn on the -day of her arrest Rhoda chanced to find, soon after -this convention, Charlotte’s note telling of her -engagement. She smiled soberly as she thought -of all the consequences that had resulted from -this manifestation of her sister’s puckish spirit.</p> - -<p>“If she hadn’t misled me this way,” Rhoda’s -thoughts ran, “I wouldn’t have forgotten about -everything else the way I did for a few minutes, -and I would have kept watch of Mary Ellen and -made her keep her veil down, and then that man -wouldn’t have recognized her, and we’d have gone -right on and nothing would have happened!”</p> - -<p>Rhoda’s trial aroused the keenest interest all -over the North. But it was an interest that cared -only for principles. The personalities of those -engaged in the matter were of the slightest consequence. -Everywhere, in newspapers and in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_332">[332]</span> -conversation, there was discussion of the affair, -and of the consequences to which it might lead. -But the people concerned in it were only so many -cogs in a mighty Wheel of Fate, turning resistlessly, -and ever about to bring into the present, -out of the unknown future, no man could tell what.</p> - -<p>To the South and its northern sympathizers -the whole affair was irritating and alarming in high -degree. Democratic newspapers and their readers -declared the attitude of “Chase and his abolition -crew” to be equivalent to a declaration of -war against the United States and welcomed the -prospect, while the compromise by which the difficulty -was finally settled they described with bitterness -as “another triumph” for the creed of the -“traitorous higher law with its open sanction of -treason and rebellion.”</p> - -<p>But there was one element in the North to whom -Rhoda Ware’s share in these events was not a -matter of indifference. In the eyes of the abolitionists -she was a martyr to the cause to which -they were zealously devoted and during the month -in which she served out her sentence letters poured -in upon her containing money for the payment of -her fine and warm words of praise. The Female -Anti-Slavery Society of Hillside sent her the whole -of their small store, saying, “we shall be proud to -share even so little in the martyrdom of our beloved -president.” Rhoda wept over it, knowing -well at what cost of personal sacrifice the little<span class="pagenum" id="Page_333">[333]</span> -hoard had been gathered. But she knew, too, -that to beg them to take back their offering would -be to stab their very hearts. Other anti-slavery -societies in Ohio and elsewhere sent contributions. -There were checks from rich men in New York, -New England and Pennsylvania, whose purses -were always open for the anti-slavery cause and -whose custom it was to give brotherly encouragement -to Underground operators who fell into the -toils of the Fugitive Slave Act by helping to pay -their fines. The amount in which Rhoda had -been mulcted was entirely paid, as was the assessment -in many another case, by these enthusiastic -co-workers.</p> - -<p>Most precious to her, however, were the letters -which came from abolitionists all over the country -with their words of praise, sympathy, encouragement -and hope. Many of them were from men -and women whose names will be found in the -pages of American history as long as the conflict -over slavery holds a place therein. Long afterward, -when many years of peace had enabled all -the people of the land to look back with calm -philosophy upon those heated years of contention, -and the impartial muse of history had given to the -Underground Railroad a high place among the -causes which brought on the Civil War and abolished -servitude, Rhoda Ware held these letters -among her most prized mementos of those stirring -days of which she was a part.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_334">[334]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXIV</h2> -</div> - -<p>The lilac bushes were again in bud and Rhoda -Ware was looking at them, pulling down here and -there a tall one to see if it was not farther advanced -than the rest, and reckoning how soon they -would burst into flower, when she saw a tall, erect -old man enter the gate. He came up the walk -with a peculiar directness of manner, as of one -accustomed to go forward with eyes and will upon -a single aim. As he approached and asked for -Dr. Ware, Rhoda saw in his face something of -that same quality of underlying sternness, a sternness -expressive rather of uncompromising moral -sense than of severity of feeling or of judgment, -that marked her father’s countenance. His silver-white -beard, long and full, lent to this austereness -a patriarchal dignity.</p> - -<p>She took him to her father’s door, but Dr. -Ware was engaged with a patient. The stranger -asked if it were not she who had been concerned, -the previous autumn, in the escape of the slave -girl, Lear White, and they talked of that affair -and of the consequences to which it led. She felt -a magnetic quality in his grave and mellow tones, -and in the steady gaze of his deep-set eyes, alert, -luminous, penetrating, she was conscious of that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_335">[335]</span> -compelling force that lies in the look of all men -able to impress themselves upon others. Presently -he told her who he was and she thrilled as she -heard him speak the words, “Captain John Brown, -of Kansas.”</p> - -<p>“My father and I have spoken of you often, -Captain Brown,” she said, her eyes and face lighting -with the admiration which abolitionists felt -for the man whom already they regarded as a -hero.</p> - -<p>“Yes. We have known each other for many -years, and we have been agreed about slavery -since a time when there were so few of us that we -all felt as brothers.”</p> - -<p>She had many questions to ask of matters in -Kansas, where, she found, he knew the husband of -her friend, Julia Hammerton. As they talked -she saw presently that his eyes were fixed upon -Bully Brooks, who, in full grown feline dignity, -was sunning himself on the veranda. The cat’s -air of complacent ease disappeared and, after some -worried movements, it suddenly sprang up with -arched back and swelling tail, spat its displeasure -and ran away. Charlotte, coming in at the east -gate, saw her pet’s performance and shot a questioning -glance at Rhoda and the stranger as she -passed them.</p> - -<p>A little later, when her father had taken Captain -Brown into his office, Rhoda found Charlotte -with Bully Brooks in her lap, alternately soothing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_336">[336]</span> -his ruffled dignity and stirring him to angry protest.</p> - -<p>“Rhoda, who is that horrid old man?” she -demanded.</p> - -<p>“Why do you call him horrid? He is the -finest, noblest-looking old man I’ve ever seen, and -his character is as noble as his appearance.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, la! I asked you who he is.”</p> - -<p>Rhoda hesitated, considering whether or not -it would be prudent to let Charlotte know the -identity of her father’s visitor. For there was -much pro-southern sentiment in Hillside and, although -John Brown was not yet an outlaw with -a price on his head, he was detested and considered -an active enemy by all friends of the South. -Charlotte noted her pause and bent upon her a -keen gaze. Apparently Rhoda did not want to -tell her who he was and therefore it became at -once an urgent necessity for her to find out. -Rhoda felt those intent brown eyes studying her -face and decided it would be better not to give -her sister reason for suspecting any mystery.</p> - -<p>“I suppose he’s some old nigger-stealer,” -Charlotte was saying, still watching Rhoda’s expression, -“and that’s why you think he’s such a -noble character. Lloyd thinks, and so do I, that -nigger-stealing ought to be punished by hanging.”</p> - -<p>Rhoda smiled at her. “Would my little sister -like to see me hanging from a limb of that maple -tree yonder?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_337">[337]</span>“But you’d quit if you knew you were going to -be hung for it.”</p> - -<p>“No, I wouldn’t.”</p> - -<p>Charlotte regarded her with wide eyes. In -her secret heart she was beginning to feel not a -little awe of this quiet elder sister upon whose -countenance she sometimes surprised a look of exaltation. -And therefore, to save her own sense of -dignity, immensely increased by the prospect of her -marriage, she had taken refuge in a patronizing -manner.</p> - -<p>“Of course you would,” she said, with a superior -air and a toss of her pretty head. “You say that -just to brave it out. Has old Mr. White-Beard -come to help you make plans to get arrested -again?”</p> - -<p>“No. He wanted to see father.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, well! Who is he? John Brown, or -Horace Greeley, or Governor Chase? One of -them is as bad as another and they’re all tarred -with the same brush.”</p> - -<p>“Which do you think?” asked Rhoda calmly.</p> - -<p>Charlotte leaned forward, all eagerness, her -intuitions, as they so often did, flashing straight -to the truth. “Not John Brown?” she ejaculated. -Rhoda nodded, and Charlotte drew back with a -little gasp and then seized the cat in her lap with -extravagant exclamations of pride and affection.</p> - -<p>“My precious Bully Brooks! You knew who -he was, didn’t you, and you told him what you<span class="pagenum" id="Page_338">[338]</span> -thought of him! He’s a regular old ogre, Rhoda, -and Bully Brooks felt it, didn’t you, you darling -cat! And you shall go with Charlotte, when she’s -married, to Corey’s Hall, so you shall, where there -won’t be any nigger-stealers to make you angry.”</p> - -<p>Rhoda looked on with amusement. Not even -yet, although Charlotte’s wedding day was fast -approaching, could she think of her sister as other -than a merry sprite, a spoiled child, of whom it -would be too much to expect the sense of ordinary -responsibilities. But now a feeling of uneasiness -grew upon her, and when presently both rose to -go into the house she said:</p> - -<p>“By the way, sister, please remember that it is -not necessary for you to tell any one about Captain -Brown’s being here, either now or after he -has gone.”</p> - -<p>Charlotte tilted her chin saucily and laughed. -“Don’t you know, Rhoda, that I never make -promises—except for the fun of breaking them? -Besides, I’m a southerner now.”</p> - -<p>Rhoda laid her hand gently upon the other’s -shoulder. “Stop, sister. This is a serious matter. -I can’t forget that once you played the -traitor—pardon me, there is no other word for it, -although I don’t think you meant it that way—but -it was the traitor to father and to me. You -know how much father loves you and how he’ll -miss you after you’re married. Do you want to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_339">[339]</span> -make him feel so much safer then that he can’t -help being glad you’re gone?”</p> - -<p>It was a new experience for even Rhoda to take -her reckless audacities with so much seriousness, -and she looked up wonderingly, at first with pouting -and then with trembling lips. “I don’t see -why you want to make me so unhappy at home, -when I’m soon going to leave it,” she sobbed. -“Do you want to make me hate my home and be -glad to go away?”</p> - -<p>Rhoda longed to take the dainty, drooping little -figure into her arms and speak words of soothing. -But she held to her purpose. “Do you want to -make father, who loves you so much, glad to have -you go away?”</p> - -<p>Charlotte stamped her foot. “Of course I -don’t!” she exclaimed, her fists in her eyes. “And -you’re perfectly horrid to say such things!”</p> - -<p>At once Rhoda gave way to compassion, for -she felt that she had gained her point. She drew -her sister within her arm, patting her shoulder and -kissing her forehead. “There, there, dear! Never -mind. I only wanted to make sure we could trust -you.”</p> - -<p>In the afternoon when Dr. Ware was ready to -make his round of visits, he asked Rhoda to go -with him upon a trip he had to make into the -country. As they drove through the glistening -young spring he told her of his conversation with -his morning’s visitor.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_340">[340]</span>“Captain Brown gave me permission to talk it -over with you,” he said. “I assured him you -could be trusted.” Rhoda’s heart swelled with -pleasure at her father’s words and at the matter-of-fact -way in which he spoke them, for both -words and manner made her know how habitual -with him their companionship had become.</p> - -<p>“I’ve known him for a good many years,” Dr. -Ware went on, “and I’ve always believed that -some day he’d strike a big blow, square on slavery’s -head, do some big thing that would help -immensely to get rid of it. For a man of Brown’s -intelligence, character and personality can’t live -half his lifetime absorbed by one idea without -making something happen. He and I agree on -one point, that slavery can be wiped out only by -violence. We both see that its roots have gone -so deep that to pull them up will make a terrible -upheaval. He hasn’t the faith that I have, hasn’t -any, in fact, in political measures and the Republican -party. He doesn’t believe, as I do, that all -this is helping to keep the roots from spreading -and getting stronger, and that it will make our -victory quicker and easier, when the time for -violence does come.</p> - -<p>“He thinks that time is nearly here and that he -is going to bring it about. He proposes to -establish himself, before long, somewhere along -the free-state border, with a band of picked followers, -drilled in arms, and gather into his fortified<span class="pagenum" id="Page_341">[341]</span> -camp all the negroes from the near-by plantations. -Such of these as wish to go to Canada will -be passed on by the Underground, while those -who prefer will stay with him and help gather in -more slaves from greater distances. As the success -of his forays becomes known he thinks that -other men will join him from all over the North, -until his army, increased also by daring spirits -from among the fugitive slaves, will be so large -and formidable and slave property be made so -insecure that slavery will collapse like the shell of -a ruined house.”</p> - -<p>Rhoda’s cheeks were flushed and her eyes shining. -“What a daring scheme, father! Do you -think it will succeed?”</p> - -<p>Dr. Ware smiled doubtfully and shook his -head. “I don’t think he can carry it through to -the end he feels sure of, and I told him so this -morning. But his heart is set on it. He has been -slowly maturing the plan for twenty-five years, -and has even made a tour of the great battlefields -and important fortifications of Europe, studying -them in the light of this purpose. It seems to me -impossible that he can succeed. But he’ll scare -the South out of its wits and make it angrier and -more determined than ever, and that will be a -good thing. With the rising tide of public opinion -in the North, it will bring the clash that’s bound -to come a big notch nearer.”</p> - -<p>“Did he want you to join him, father?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_342">[342]</span>“Yes. I knew about his plan—we’ve talked -of it before. I have so much faith in the power -of the one-ideaed man to achieve things that I’ve -always told him he could call on me for any help -it was in my power to give. I’ve contributed -what I could to his Kansas campaign, and I gave -him this morning for this scheme all I could spare. -I told him, too,” Dr. Ware hesitated a little over -his words now, “that I might join him in person -somewhat later, if his first attempts prove successful, -and that perhaps you would come too. For -with your knowledge of nursing you would be -useful. Do you think you would care to throw -yourself into such a scheme as his, full of danger -and sure to fail, but likely to deliver an effective -blow?”</p> - -<p>His eyes were upon her, clear and calm as -usual, but brilliant now with the fires of zeal. As -they searched her face her own looked back at -him, as glowing with zeal as his. “You know I -would, father—you did right to tell him so. I’m -always ready to go anywhere or do anything that -will help our cause. But—mother—what about -mother?”</p> - -<p>He shook his head sadly and turned away. -“Your mother, Rhoda, is incurably ill. She cannot -be with us much longer. I had her consult -two physicians in Cincinnati on her way home -from Fairmount, and they both told her it is only -a question of time.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_343">[343]</span>“Oh, father! Can’t we do anything for her? -Why didn’t you tell me before?”</p> - -<p>“There is nothing we can do but make her as -comfortable and care free as possible while she is -with us. I didn’t tell you before because she -didn’t want you to know about it until after -Charlotte’s wedding, and she doesn’t want Charlotte -to know it at all. She wants everything to -be as cheerful and happy as possible while Charlotte -is here. Please don’t let her guess that you -know.”</p> - -<p>Charlotte was to be married in May, and during -the remaining weeks of that time Rhoda -watched her mother with anxious and loving care, -taking upon herself, as Mrs. Ware seemed willing -to relinquish it, every household responsibility, -and noted with aching heart the wasting of her -face and figure.</p> - -<p>“I believe she is just keeping up by her will -power,” Rhoda said to Dr. Ware, “so that there -shall be nothing to make Charlotte unhappy during -her last weeks at home.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” assented her father, “she wants Charlotte -to remember the months of her engagement -as the happiest time in her life. We must be prepared -for a reaction after it is all over.”</p> - -<p>After Rhoda’s trial and imprisonment no mention -of that matter was ever made between her -and her mother. When she returned home Mrs. -Ware received her with the utmost love and tenderness,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_344">[344]</span> -but without the least reference to the reasons -for her absence. In neither words nor manner -did she recognize that that absence had been anything -other than an ordinary social visit and if it -had to be spoken of she referred to it merely as -the time “when you were away.”</p> - -<p>So, now, she made no sign to either her husband -or her daughter that she had any knowledge of -the Underground activities in which they were -engaged or of the fugitive slaves who were sheltered -in the house. Rhoda was never able to -guess whether she knew much or little of what -went on under her roof nor whether or not she -resented it or was grieved by it. But the girl’s -heart ached constantly with sympathy for what -she felt must be her mother’s pain.</p> - -<p>Her compassion and sorrow, however, did not -lead her to consider for a moment the idea of -giving up the work. Rather, they inspired her -to greater zeal, in both thought and action, and -to more intense desire to aid in the destruction of -slavery. For, in her mind, whatever grief her -mother felt, whatever alienation there was between -them, were among the evil results of the -slave system, just as was the division between her -and Jefferson Delavan, and the only way of rightfully -fully meeting them was to attack their cause.</p> - -<p>At the wedding Rhoda was bridesmaid and -Delavan was groomsman. As she saw her -mother’s eyes fixed wistfully upon them she felt<span class="pagenum" id="Page_345">[345]</span> -fresh twinges of self-reproach. She knew the -deep pleasure that Charlotte’s marriage to a -southerner had brought to the ailing woman, and -she knew that this would be as nothing beside her -satisfaction and delight could she see her other -daughter united in marriage to the son of her old -friend. Could it be, after all, Rhoda began to -ask herself, that here was where her highest duty -lay? Ought she, at whatever cost to herself, -make happy her mother’s last days?</p> - -<p>It seemed to Rhoda that everything conspired, -throughout the wedding festivities, to bring her -and Delavan alone together, although she knew -that they were both trying to avoid such meetings. -But he forebore to speak of love, and afterward -the merry friendliness of these brief occasions, -just touched as they were with the fragrance of -intimacy, were among her dearest memories.</p> - -<p>When he bade her good-by she felt the lover in -his manner and his voice as he said: “It has been -two years, Rhoda, but I shall wait two years more, -and ten times that, before I give up hope of our -wedding!”</p> - -<p>Rhoda looked at him with her flashing smile, -that lifting of her short upper lip and trembling -at its corners and lighting of her eyes, which always -sent through his veins a fresh thrill of love, -and answered: “Oh, Jeff! What a long time to -prepare for a wedding in!”</p> - -<p>After it was all over Mrs. Ware failed rapidly.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_346">[346]</span> -Rhoda watched her wasting cheeks and growing -feebleness with an agony of compassion and -constant tumultuous questioning of herself. Her -mother had not spoken to her for a long time -about Delavan’s suit, but she knew that the wish -was gathering strength in her breast as she came -nearer and nearer to death’s door. Rhoda felt -it in the wistful look with which the brown eyes, -grown so large and childlike in the peaked face, -followed her about the room. It spoke to her in -the plaintive appeal of the soft southern voice -and it pulled mightily at her heartstrings in the -clinging to hers of the thin hands, a little while -ago so plump and fair.</p> - -<p>With her own heart playing traitor, as it always -did with every weakening of her resolution, with -love and compassion for the invalid pleading incessantly, -with a remorse-wrung conscience recalling -every hurt she had ever given to her mother -and urging that she ought to salve those many -wounds with this final atonement, the torment of -it became almost greater than she could bear.</p> - -<p>One day she found her father alone in his office -and, impelled by her distraught heart, she forgot -her usual restraints, flung herself on her knees -beside his chair and laid her face against his knee.</p> - -<p>“Oh, father,” she begged, “help me to see what -I ought to do! I know mother wants me to marry -Jeff—she doesn’t say a word about it, but I feel -all the time that it is making her last days full of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_347">[347]</span> -sorrow. It seems to me sometimes that I can’t -stand it another minute, that I must give up, because -it will make her happy. Would it help her, -father, if I did?”</p> - -<p>Dr. Ware laid his hand upon her shoulder. -Even in her wretchedness the action gave her a -little thrill of pleasure, for it was nearer a caress -than she could remember he had ever given her.</p> - -<p>“Nothing can help your mother now, child. -With her, it is a matter of a few months, or -weeks, or, perhaps, even days. It would make -her happy for that little time—I know it as well -as you do. You could feel that you had enabled -her to end her days in peace. But whether or not -you ought to sacrifice your sense of right to your -sense of duty to her is something that only you -can decide.”</p> - -<p>“I know it, father,” she answered in low tones -as she rose to her feet and wiped the tears from -her eyes.</p> - -<p>She went out into the yard, gay with the luxuriant -blooms of early summer. The white petunias -sent up their fragrance and the memories it -brought pierced her very heart with poignant -sweetness. She went on into the grape arbor and -sat down in its cool shadows, asking herself why -it was that she could keep her own soul clean only -at the expense of another’s happiness.</p> - -<p>“My happiness, Jeff’s happiness,” she thought, -“they are of our own making and we can choose<span class="pagenum" id="Page_348">[348]</span> -our own conditions. But mother, poor, dear, -little mother, so sick, with such a little while to -live, and her happiness so bound up in this! And -if I do it I shall feel all my life that it was wrong, -that my soul isn’t clean. Oh, mother, how can I -become a part of this abomination of slavery, this -vile, accursed thing! I’d be glad to die, a hundred -times over, for you—but to live and be a -part of such wickedness— Oh, mother, how can -I? How can I?”</p> - -<p>The end came sooner than they expected. On -a hot afternoon in midsummer, when the late, red -rays of the sun, shining through the half-closed -shutters, lay in bands across the floor, Mrs. Ware -called Rhoda. “Come close, honey, down beside -me,” she said, and Rhoda knelt at the bedside. -Her mother slipped a feeble arm around her neck.</p> - -<p>“You’ve been a dear, loving daughter to me,” -she said, “even if we’ve thought so differently -about some things. You are like your father, -Rhoda, and that has always been a pleasure to -me. You’ve wanted to make me happy, just as -he always has, and in almost everything you have. -No mother ever had a better, dearer daughter than -you, honey.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, mother,” Rhoda exclaimed, the tears welling -into her eyes, for in the pale, pitiful face she -saw the shadow of the death angel’s wing and felt -his near approach in the chill that struck into her -own breast. “Dear mother, I’ve never done half<span class="pagenum" id="Page_349">[349]</span> -enough for you, never been half as good and loving -to you as you deserved!”</p> - -<p>“Always you have, dear, except in one thing. -You know how much for two years I’ve wanted -you to marry Adeline’s son, dear Jeff. And you -would not. I haven’t much longer to live, and if -you want to make my deathbed happy promise me -that you will. Oh, Rhoda, send for Jeff and marry -him here beside my bed and have your dying -mother’s blessing!”</p> - -<p>Rhoda was sobbing with her face upon her -mother’s shoulder. “Dearest mother,” she -pleaded, “don’t ask that of me.”</p> - -<p>“It’s the only thing in all the world that I want, -honey. You love Jeff, and he adores you, and I -know that you’ll be happy together, if you’ll only -give up that nonsensical idea that has taken possession -of you. It’s your happiness that I want, -Rhoda, yours and Jeff’s. And I know, oh, so -much better than you do, what makes a woman -happy. I can’t die feeling that I have done my -duty to my little girl and made sure of her happiness, -unless she will promise me this. Will you -do it, Rhoda?”</p> - -<p>“Let me be the judge of my happiness, mother, -as you were the judge of yours!”</p> - -<p>“Your mother knows best, child! Take her -word for it, and let her bless you with her last -breath, as you’ll always bless her if you do. It’s -the last thing she’ll ever ask of you.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_350">[350]</span>The invalid’s tones were growing weaker and -something querulous sounded in them as she repeated, -“Promise me, Rhoda, promise!”</p> - -<p>The linked hands upon Rhoda’s neck loosened -their hold and the tired arms slipped down. She -bowed her head upon her mother’s breast as she -sobbed, “Let me think for a minute, mother, dear! -It breaks my heart not to do what you want!”</p> - -<p>“It breaks mine, Rhoda, that you don’t. Oh, -honey, let me die in peace and happiness! Promise -me that you’ll marry Jeff!”</p> - -<p>Rhoda saw that her father had entered the room -and was standing at her side. She sprang to her -feet, threw her arms about his neck and with her -head upon his shoulder burst into a passion of -tears.</p> - -<p>“Father, tell me what to do!” she wailed.</p> - -<p>His arms were about her, his face upon her hair, -and his tears were mingling with hers. In that -supreme moment of grief, compassion and struggle -the icy barriers that had kept their hearts -apart melted away and they clung together in their -common despair, groping through their sobs for -the right thing to say and do.</p> - -<p>Suddenly they were startled by a gay little laugh -from the bed. “You’ve come at last, have you, -Adeline, dearest! How late you are!” the dying -woman exclaimed, holding out her hands in welcome. -From her face the shadow had passed and -in its place shone a girlish happiness. She was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_351">[351]</span> -back again among the friends of her youth, chatting -and laughing with “dearest Adeline,” and -calling upon “mammy” to do this and that. And -so, babbling of her girlhood’s pleasures, she passed -into the dark beyond.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_352">[352]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXV</h2> -</div> - -<p>During the late summer and autumn of that -year Rhoda and her father and their friends -watched with the keenest interest, as did people -all over the country, the struggle in Illinois between -Lincoln and Douglas. In the Cincinnati -and New York papers they read the speeches, -printed at length, of both the aspirants for senatorial -honors, and on many an evening, gathered -on the veranda of the Ware home or, after the -evenings grew cool, around the fireplace in the -living-room, they discussed all the features of that -famous intellectual wrestling match.</p> - -<p>Horace Hardaker had been nominated for Congress -by the Republican party and was conducting -a vigorous campaign. Nevertheless, he found -time to come frequently up the hill to Dr. Ware’s -house for these talks. Marcia Kimball came also, -at first with her brothers, but after a little Rhoda -observed that it was oftener with Hardaker that -she made her appearance and always upon his -arm that she leaned when they went away. With -an inward smile Rhoda noticed too that Horace, -with apparent unconsciousness, began to address -his conversation mainly toward Marcia.</p> - -<p>“I don’t expect to be elected,” he said one<span class="pagenum" id="Page_353">[353]</span> -evening, “that is, not this time. But I’m giving -the ground a good, deep plowing, and there’ll be -a different crop to reap two years from now.”</p> - -<p>His opponent, a Douglas Democrat, won the -day, but by so narrow a margin that Hardaker -was almost as exultant as if he had been successful. -“Two years more of the way things are -going now,” he declared, “and we’ll sweep the -country!”</p> - -<p>“Suppose you do, what good will it do?” said -old Mr. Kimball. “Your Republican party expressly -says it won’t interfere with slavery in the -South.”</p> - -<p>“It will bring on a crisis,” interjected Dr. Ware, -“and a crisis is exactly the thing we want. The -South won’t stand a Republican president. And -when she tries to leave the Union the upheaval -will come.”</p> - -<p>Not long after the election Hardaker sought -Rhoda in more buoyant mood than ever, to tell -her that he and Marcia were to be married. She -assured him that she was heartily glad, and really -felt all that she said, and even more. But her -sincere rejoicing did not prevent her from looking -sadly out of her window that night and feeling -that something very dear and pleasant had gone -out of her life beyond all recovery. She would -not, if she could, have held Hardaker’s love in -fruitless thrall, but it had been so comforting, so -gratifying, to know how surely it was hers and she<span class="pagenum" id="Page_354">[354]</span> -had so grown to expect one of his recurrent proposals -every year or so that it cost her a little -wrench now to give it all up.</p> - -<p>“He’ll make Marcia a good, loving husband,” -she thought, “and with his talent and ambition -he’ll succeed. Oh, they’ll be happy, and I’m -glad.”</p> - -<p>Her eyes grew sad and the lines of her face -drooped as she sat beside her window. And after -a while she took out the little box with its treasure -of letters and withered flower. She did not read -the letters, of which there was now nearly a box -full, but turned them over caressingly in her hands -and now and then pressed one to her lips.</p> - -<p>Rhoda was bridesmaid when Horace and Marcia -were married in the early spring. “It’s your -third time, isn’t it, dear,” said Marcia as her friend -draped about her shoulders the folds of her bridal -veil. “I do hope it will be you yourself, next -time!”</p> - -<p>“So do I, Marcia!” said Rhoda frankly, looking -up with a smile. “There isn’t a girl anywhere -who’d more willingly be a bride than I, if—if—if!”</p> - -<p>“Rhoda, you’re the dearest, bravest girl!” -cried Marcia, squeezing her hand. “If I was in -your place I’d be crying my eyes out instead of -laughing like that!”</p> - -<p>“Then I wouldn’t have you for my bridesmaid<span class="pagenum" id="Page_355">[355]</span> -if you couldn’t give your eyes a rest that long,” -rejoined Rhoda gaily.</p> - -<p>Spring and summer came and went, and for -Rhoda Ware the weeks passed with uneventful -flow. Through their house there trickled a thin -stream of slaves fleeing northward, sometimes -half a dozen or more within a week and sometimes -not more than one or two. The trouble and cost -of recovering their runaway negroes, even when -they were infrequently able to get possession of -them again, had caused the southern slaveholders -to give over their efforts. In these last years of -the decade it was unusual for a fugitive to be pursued -and therefore the traffic of the Underground -was carried on with little risk.</p> - -<p>Rhoda busied herself with these duties, the -ordering of her father’s household, her anti-slavery -work and her reading. Gradually the thought -grew up in her breast that she would like to study -medicine. She talked the matter over with her -father and he offered, if she wished, to send her -to one of the medical colleges that within a few -years had been opened for women. But she would -not leave him alone and so, under his guidance, -she spent her leisure time reading in his medical -library, discussing his cases with him, and often -going with him upon his visits.</p> - -<p>Dr. Ware received an occasional brief letter -from John Brown in which his scheme was referred -to with cautious phrasing as a speculation in sheep.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_356">[356]</span> -Toward midsummer he wrote that he was getting -his shepherds together and expected to collect a -band of sheep in the Virginia mountains, where he -thought there would be good pasturage, about the -middle of October.</p> - -<p>“He is bound to come into collision with the -federal government very soon,” said Dr. Ware -to his daughter as they talked this letter over together. -“Of course he knows that will be the end -of his enterprise and of him too.”</p> - -<p>“He won’t care,” answered Rhoda, “what becomes -of him if he can make just one thrust at -slavery.”</p> - -<p>“That’s true. And the more I think of it the -more I believe that even if he fails in his first -attempt, as he is very likely to do, it will be a good -strong thrust that will make the South fairly stagger. -I told him I’d wait to see whether or not he -made a beginning before I decided about joining -him. But I doubt very much, Rhoda, whether -you and I will have a chance to work under John -Brown.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll be ready to go whenever you say the word, -father,” she said with grave earnestness.</p> - -<p>Now and then a letter passed between Rhoda -and Jefferson Delavan, a letter of intimate friendliness, -telling of personal matters and mutual -interests. Once only did he touch upon the slavery -question, which formerly they had argued with -such earnestness, and then he filled a long letter<span class="pagenum" id="Page_357">[357]</span> -with an endeavor to prove to her that the negro -race had been benefited by slavery, that in taking -it from its barbarous state and bringing it in contact -with civilization the slaveholders had lifted -it to a higher plane of moral and intellectual life.</p> - -<p>When she replied she said merely, “No more -of that, please, if you still love me! Each of us -knows that the other’s convictions are honest and -deeply rooted. We can’t agree, so let’s not argue, -but just enjoy our friendship.”</p> - -<p>Nor was there in their correspondence any -mention of love, or of possible or impossible marriage. -But toward the end of summer, when a -little band of men was warily gathering in a -Maryland farmhouse, one of Jeff’s letters set -Rhoda’s heart to fluttering. There was in it, -save for some terms of endearment which seemed -to have flowed unconsciously from his pen, no -putting into words of a lover’s hopes. But she -felt through every line the burning of the lover’s -heart. And a few weeks later there came a brief -note saying, “I shall be in Hillside soon and shall -count on seeing you.”</p> - -<p>For a day Rhoda’s heart sang with joy, “He is -coming, he is coming! I shall see him, have him -here beside me!” and would listen to no warnings -of her mind.</p> - -<p>Then she wrote, “Don’t come! I beg of you, -Jeff, don’t come! What is the use!” And lest<span class="pagenum" id="Page_358">[358]</span> -her courage might fail her, she quickly sealed and -posted her missive.</p> - -<p>But when the October woods were bright with -flaming color, and the little band of men in the -Maryland farmhouse were waiting for the order -to march, and Rhoda and her father were saying -to each other every morning, “There may be news -to-day,” Jefferson Delavan appeared at her door.</p> - -<p>“I told you not to come!” she said, and gave -him her hand, while face and eyes belied the meaning -of her words. His heart gladdened at their -sweet shining as he held her hand in both of his -and answered, “And I disobeyed—because I -couldn’t help it.” Then, for a moment, their -starving, delighted gaze fed upon each other’s -eyes, until Rhoda suddenly felt that he was about -to break into lover’s speech. Impulsively she -laid a finger across his lips. He seized and held -it there while she exclaimed:</p> - -<p>“Don’t speak, Jeff, don’t say anything. It’s -such a lovely day—the hills are so beautiful—let’s -have a ride together!”</p> - -<p>He agreed, glad of anything that would insure -her presence near him, and they were soon galloping -over country roads and across the wooded -hills, brilliant in the gala robes with which Nature -celebrates her thanksgiving for another year of -sun and life and growth.</p> - -<p>As they rode, the motion and the wine-like air -and the joy in her heart lifted Rhoda into exultant<span class="pagenum" id="Page_359">[359]</span> -mood, deepened the wild rose-bloom in her cheeks -and kindled her serious eyes into sparkling gaiety. -“Let me have this little time!” her heart pleaded. -“It may be the last. After <i>that</i> has happened he -may never come again!”</p> - -<p>And so, with thrilling nerves and singing heart, -the Cavalier in her breast dominated the Puritan -and sent to the four winds warnings of conscience -and thought of to-morrow. Forgotten was the -safety of the three fugitive slaves, at that moment -hiding in her cellar, forgotten the fateful Thing -for whose birth in the Virginia mountains she had -been waiting, cast away from her mind was all -thought of the anti-slavery contest, nor was there -room in her heart for zeal in its cause. She was -mere woman, loving and beloved, and glorying inwardly -in her power over her lover. Her Cavalier -inheritance took possession of her and bade -her snatch the pleasure of the hour. Her father’s -offspring dwindled away into the smallest recesses -of her nature and it was her mother’s daughter -who sat in the saddle, slender and graceful, and -with starry eye and alluring smile kindled fresh -fires in her lover’s breast.</p> - -<p>With pride and pleasure she saw them burning -in his face and eyes as he drew beside her and -murmured, “Rhoda, you are so beautiful!” Her -mirror had told her many times, and she had -agreed in its verdict, that she was not beautiful. -And so all the more precious to her was this tribute<span class="pagenum" id="Page_360">[360]</span> -of love, and more than once did she win it, as -they rode and rode, during the long afternoon.</p> - -<p>A sudden memory came of the tale of courtship -her mother had told to her and Jeff, on that -June night so long ago, and across her mind’s eye -there flitted the vision she had often called up, -of the pretty, wilful girl and the resolute young -man with his hand on her bridle, galloping, galloping— “And -that was love—and this is love, and -it is mine!” her heart sang. Quickly her brain -flashed back the question, “Would I yield, as -mother did, if—if—if—” And the Cavalier in -her heart sang back, exulting, “I would! I would!”</p> - -<p>On their way home they came to an old wood -road and turned into it from the cross-country -way upon which they had been galloping. Checking -their horses they rode slowly down the brilliant -avenue of gold and russet and crimson, talking, -now earnestly, now gaily, upon one or another -of the multitude of things, personal and impersonal, -which to lovers can bourgeon instantly into -matters of moment and interest by the mere fact -of mention in the loved one’s voice. Gradually -the road dwindled away and they came upon -steeper hills and a rocky surface. But Rhoda -knew where they were and said that by turning -sharply to the eastward they could gain the high -road. Dismounting they led their horses across -the hills, the fallen autumnal glories billowing -beneath their feet.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_361">[361]</span>Already Rhoda’s mood had begun to sober. -The Puritan was claiming his own again. Down -that wood road she had driven her buggy, on a -winter day, to bring out the fugitive negro lad -whom she had sent flying to the cave for safety -from the pursuing marshal. They passed the -cave itself, where, more than three years previous, -she had hidden the mulatto, running for the freedom -dearer than life from this very man who was -bending near her now with ardent looks of love. -She shivered a little as she remembered the slave’s -sullen resolution, the pistol in his hand, and the -tone in which he had said, “I won’t go back.” As -Jeff bent with loving solicitude to draw her wrap -closer about her shoulders she was thinking, “And -he said they were brothers.”</p> - -<p>They struck a path which climbed a steep hill, -and when they came to a jutting rock Delavan -looked around him with sudden recollection. -“Why, I’ve been here before!” he exclaimed. “It -was here I met you, dear, that day—don’t you -remember? What a long time you have made -me wait, sweetheart, for your promise!” His -lover’s longing, made a hundredfold more imperious -by the allurement there had been all the -afternoon in her laugh, her voice, her smile, her -lips, her eyes, her manner, would be put aside no -longer, and he turned upon her with an impetuosity -that would brook no protest.</p> - -<p>“Do you, remember, dearest, the proof of my<span class="pagenum" id="Page_362">[362]</span> -love I gave you that day? I’m ready to give you, -here on this same spot, another proof, a thousand -times greater! It will sweep away everything -that keeps us apart, Rhoda! Everything!”</p> - -<p>She looked at him silently, sweet wonder parting -her lips and shining starlike in her big gray eyes. -Her cheeks were paler now, with the ebbing of -the exultant tide that had kept her all the afternoon -on its crest. But to him this soft, subdued -mood bespoke the sweetheart ready to tremble into -his embrace and made her all the more adorable. -He seized her hand and she let it lie in his close, -warm grasp as he went on:</p> - -<p>“I have made up my mind to give up everything -to our love. I will free all my niggers—for -the sake of your dear conscience not one shall -be sold—and see that they find places where they -can earn their livings. Then I will sell my property -and we will put this country and its accursed -contentions behind us. We will go to England, -dear heart, or France, and live where there will -come hardly an echo of all this strife to disturb -our blessed content and happiness!”</p> - -<p>She dropped her eyes from his and for a long -moment stood motionless while it seemed to her -that her very heart stood still. With swift inner -vision, like that of a drowning man, she saw those -years of wedded life, long years of comradeship -and love and deepest joy, with dear children growing -up beside them, and her heart yearned toward<span class="pagenum" id="Page_363">[363]</span> -its peace and happiness with such urgency that -she dared not try to speak.</p> - -<p>“Think, Rhoda, dear,” he was pleading, “think -of the quiet, blissful years that are waiting for us! -Our two hearts together, and nothing, nothing -at all to come between them!”</p> - -<p>Her very lips were pale with desire of it as she -whispered: “I am thinking, and, oh, Jeff, the -thought of it, the joy of it, almost makes my heart -stop beating. But have you thought, dear, dear -Jeff, what a sacrifice this will be for you? I know -how much you love the South. Would you never -regret it, never wish to come back and throw yourself -into her service? If that should happen, it -would be the end of happiness for us both, for I -should know it—our hearts would be so close -together—even if you didn’t say a word. Have -you thought of that, dear Jeff?”</p> - -<p>He smiled at her with loving confidence. “I’ve -thought that all out, dear heart. For weeks I’ve -been thinking of it, and threshing it all out in my -mind, until I feel quite sure of myself. I do love -my dear Southland and as you know so well my -ambition has always been to spend my life in her -service. But there are plenty of other men who -can do her work as well as I can, and not at the -cost of their heart’s love and life’s happiness. I -am willing to let them do it while I take my love -and my happiness. My sweet! I knew your -dear, generous heart would ask me that!” He<span class="pagenum" id="Page_364">[364]</span> -bowed over her hand, which he still held in his, -and pressed it to his lips.</p> - -<p>Her heart was pleading: “He is right. There -are plenty of others who can do his work, and -there are surely many, many who can do what -little is possible for me better than I. Why not -put it all aside and take the love and happiness -that belong to us?” And then, like an icy grip -upon her softening, yielding heart came remembrance -of the Thing that was about to happen in -the Virginia mountains.</p> - -<p>She drew her hand from his and in sudden dismay -walked apart a few paces, saying, “Let me -think for a minute, Jeff!” She dropped her riding -skirt, whose fulness she had been carrying -over one arm, and its long black folds swept around -her slender figure as she leaned against a tree with -her face in her hands. So tall and straight and -slim she looked, drooping against the tree trunk, -that the fancy crossed his mind she was like some -forsaken, grieving wood nymph, and all his body -ached with the longing to enfold her in his arms -and comfort whatever pain was in her heart. But -his love as well as his courtesy forbade him to intrude -upon her while she stood apart, and he -waited for her to turn to him again.</p> - -<p>Rhoda was thinking of what she knew was -about to happen and of what it would mean to -him. Her father had said that it would be like -the sudden ringing of an alarm bell and that, however<span class="pagenum" id="Page_365">[365]</span> -this initial attempt turned out, it might cause -the whole South to take up arms at once and declare -war. She knew how her lover’s spirit would -leap at such an emergency. Did she wish to put -his love and his promise to such a test at the very -beginning? Slowly she walked back and stood -in front of him.</p> - -<p>“Jeff, this is truly a wonderful proof of your -love that you have given me!” Her voice was -tremulous with desire of all she felt she was putting -away, but she went bravely on: “I don’t believe -any other woman ever had such proof! Indeed,” -and she smiled tenderly at him, “I don’t -believe any other woman was ever loved quite so -much. It makes me feel your love in my heart, -oh, so much more precious than even it was before! -But I want you to be quite sure, dear Jeff!”</p> - -<p>“I am sure, sweetheart!” he broke in.</p> - -<p>“But won’t you wait a little while, two weeks, -no, three weeks, before I—we decide? I ask you -to go home, at once, and not to see me or write -to me for three weeks more. And then you can -let me know whether or not you still wish to put -your ideals and ambitions aside for the sake of -love. But I want you to consider the question -then just exactly as if we had never talked of it -before. You are not to feel yourself in the least -bound by what you have told me to-day. If anything -should happen between now and then that -makes you feel that the South still has a claim upon<span class="pagenum" id="Page_366">[366]</span> -you, anything that would make you in the very -least unwilling to—to carry out this plan, then I -want you to tell me so frankly—with perfect frankness, -dear Jeff, as perfect as our love.”</p> - -<p>“And is that all the hope you will give me, -dearest?” he pleaded. “No promise to take back -with me?”</p> - -<p>She was standing beside the path, on the rising -ground a little above him, and she leaned toward -him, resting her hands lightly upon his shoulders -as she said, her face all tenderness:</p> - -<p>“Dear Jeff, it is for your sake I am asking it!”</p> - -<p>He seemed scarcely to hear what she said, and -touched her cheek with a caressing palm as he -exclaimed, “Rhoda, my sweet, your face is like a -guardian angel’s!”</p> - -<p>Before Jefferson Delavan reached Fairmount -again the Thing had happened that made the -North gasp with wonder and set the South beside -itself with fear and rage. The amazing audacity -of John Brown’s attack upon Harper’s Ferry -and the rankling distrust between the two sections -make reasonable, to impartial eyes of a later day, -the alarming significance which the southern people, -especially those in the border states, saw in -Brown’s foredoomed enterprise. The slaveholders -of Kentucky were aroused to almost as extreme -a pitch of angry apprehension and defiance as were -the people of Virginia.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_367">[367]</span>Rhoda Ware had not to wait even three weeks -for the expected letter from Jefferson Delavan.</p> - -<p>“You were right,” he wrote. “You saw the -obstacles that lie between us more clearly than I -did—or, perhaps, you had more information than -I of the treacherous lengths to which the North -would dare to go in the desire to overthrow the -ordinary rights of a state and to undermine the -power of the government under which both sections -have solemnly sworn to live. This attempt -to incite the slaves to insurrection and the butchery -of their masters proves to all of us that neither -property nor life is safe in the South. At any -moment another plot may break forth, no man can -tell where, and be more successful than this one -was. The South needs now, more than she ever -did before, every one of her sons whom she can -trust. I cannot desert her in her hour of peril. -From the bottom of my heart I thank you, Rhoda, -that you made it possible for me to remain, without -dishonor, in the position where every instinct -of duty and honor and loyalty demands that I -stay. It was like you to know that, much as I -love you, love would have to yield to honor if it -came to a test between the two, and it has made -me love you all the more, if that were possible, to -know that your love is so rich and noble and generous.</p> - -<p>“God knows what the future may hold for us -two. For the first time since our love began I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_368">[368]</span> -can see no hope for us. The feeling between the -North and the South grows intolerable and the -bonds between them cannot last much longer. As -long as the South and her interests are in danger, -my conscience, my sense of duty, my loyalty, all -my ideals and aspirations, bid me stay here. And -here I know you will not come.</p> - -<p>“But whatever happens, dear, I shall always -thank God that I have had the privilege of knowing -and loving you, while the knowledge that you, -such a peerless woman as you, have loved me will -be as long as I live the most precious treasure of -my heart. I have many dear memories of our -love, but the dearest of them all is of that last day -we had together, that splendid ride, when you -were so adorable, and of all the sweet pictures of -you that I cherish the sweetest of all is of your -face as you leaned toward me in the wood and -said, ‘It is for your sake, dear Jeff.’</p> - -<p>“Only God knows whether or not we shall ever -see each other again. But I shall always love -you, and as long as we both live I shall treasure -in my heart the belief that you still love me. -Good-by, dear heart.”</p> - -<p>“At last, it is all over,” Rhoda said to herself -when she had read the letter. “He sees, at last, -as I did so long ago, that there is no hope for us. -No—he sees none, now, but I can a little. John -Brown has brought the war ten years nearer, -father says, and any time it may come. And the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_369">[369]</span> -war will end slavery. But it’s best not to hope -too much.”</p> - -<p>She took out the box of his letters and read -them all over again, touching them tenderly and -kissing the withered rose. “I’d better burn them -all now,” she told herself, “and try not to think so -much about it after this.”</p> - -<p>With such pain in her heart as might have been -in Abraham’s when he led Isaac to the altar, she -carried her little love treasure to the fire. But -even as she held it poised over the flames her resolution -failed her. It was too much a part of herself -and she could not do it. The little box was -put away again in its hiding place and in the -months that followed, whenever the ache in her -breast would not be hushed in any other way, she -solaced her love and longing by reading the letters -over and over again, until she almost knew them, -word for word.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_370">[370]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXVI</h2> -</div> - -<p>A year and a half and more went by before -Rhoda again saw Delavan. The campaign of -1860, with its grim earnestness and sober exaltation, -had passed. She had been stirred by it to -her heart’s core, as had all men and women of -the North, and had shared her father’s satisfaction -over the result. Hers was indeed an even -deeper and gladder satisfaction than his, for to -passionate abhorrence of slavery and the belief -that now was the beginning of its end was added -her secret small hope that afterward might come -the fulfilment of her long denied love.</p> - -<p>“We mustn’t forget, Rhoda,” her father said -as they talked over the results of the election, “that -probably only a rather small percentage of those -who voted for Lincoln want to have slavery abolished -in the states where it already exists. They -really think the national government has no right -to interfere. But if there is war, and undoubtedly -there will be, a man of Lincoln’s shrewd common-sense -will know that by freeing the slaves he will -cut off the South’s right hand. With such a man -as he is in the president’s chair I feel confident, -though a good many abolitionists don’t, that we -can look forward to the end of slavery.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_371">[371]</span>The southern states were leaving the Union and -the Confederacy had been organized. Rhoda -knew that Kentucky was rent almost to her every -hearthstone with discussion of whether North or -South should have her loyalty. Charlotte had -lately written: “Everybody is all torn into strips -over the question whether or not Kentucky shall -join the Confederacy. Nobody talks or thinks -or dreams of anything else. But Lloyd and I are -going to secede, whether Kentucky does or not.”</p> - -<p>Now and then, at long intervals, had come a -brief letter from Jefferson Delavan. But he said -nothing in any of these missives of love and but -little of the mighty questions that were absorbing -the minds and hearts and souls of men, women and -children, North and South, and her replies were -of the same sort. It was as if two loving but far -divided souls, journeying through space, sought -now and then by a faint call to bridge the distance -between them.</p> - -<p>The tense, dark days of Lincoln’s inauguration -were over, the guns of Sumter had cleared away -the last clouds of uncertainty, and war was at hand.</p> - -<p>The lilacs were in bloom again and Rhoda, -moving slowly down the path, broke off here and -there a branch and presently stood at the front -gate, her fragrant burden gathered loosely into -one arm against her white dress. In her delight -in their delicate beauty and savor she bent her -face to the flowers, forgetting for the moment the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_372">[372]</span> -things of the outside world. When she lifted it -again Jefferson Delavan stood before her.</p> - -<p>“I have come to say good-by, Rhoda,” was his -greeting, as he entered the gate.</p> - -<p>“Good-by?— You are—going—” she stammered.</p> - -<p>“I am going to join the fortunes of the South,” -he replied, as they walked up the path. “Kentucky -has been false to her sister states and deserted -them when they need her most. By a single vote -she has decided upon neutrality. You, Rhoda, -can understand what a bitter dose that is for me.”</p> - -<p>“You can’t endure it?” she hesitated as they -turned into the walk to the grape arbor.</p> - -<p>“No, I can’t, and there are many other Kentuckians -who feel as I do. I am going at once -to join the southern army, and Corey and Morehead -and a dozen others that I know are going -too.”</p> - -<p>“Father has joined the Union army as a surgeon -and I am going as a nurse.”</p> - -<p>They had reached the arbor and stood facing -each other, she with her armful of lilacs still held -against her white dress, both too much absorbed -to be quite conscious of their actions. A sober -smile curved by ever so little the grim line of his -lips.</p> - -<p>“Then you will be fighting for your side as well -as I for mine, though in a different way. But -across the battlefields, Rhoda, I shall hear your<span class="pagenum" id="Page_373">[373]</span> -heart calling mine, and I shall know too that it is -telling me to fight right on.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” she broke out earnestly, “I know that -you are fighting for your convictions and your -ideals and you will not be worthy of my love if -you don’t fight until you either win or are conquered. -I don’t want you to compromise, or to -yield, until you have fought to the last drop of -your strength.”</p> - -<p>“It’s going to be a bitter struggle and a long -one, whatever the most of them, on both sides, -think now. In the South there isn’t much belief -that the North will fight, or can fight. But I -know better, Rhoda. You have taught me better, -you and your father. You have made me understand -what determination there is at the bottom of -all this.”</p> - -<p>“It’s a war between two ideals,” she said, “whatever -else they may say it is. But it’s really that, -between two ideals of civilization.”</p> - -<p>“And men,” he added quickly, “always fight -for their ideals as they do for nothing else. It -will be to the last gasp.”</p> - -<p>She looked away and shuddered. “Oh, it is all -so horrible, even to think of! But it is a long -and horrible iniquity that has caused it and must -now be paid for. Rachel Benedict told me once -that we must ourselves pay with sweat and stripes -for the evil that we do. I believe it’s true, and -the North and the South must pay together for<span class="pagenum" id="Page_374">[374]</span> -all this long evil of slavery, for they are both -responsible. But this war will end it.”</p> - -<p>He smiled upon her indulgently. “Can you -think so, Rhoda, you, who understand how we -feel and how determined we are?”</p> - -<p>She stepped back and proudly lifted her head. -Into her face came the look of exaltation he had -seen there, in this same arbor, long before. It -seemed to remove her far from him, and therefore -set his heart to throbbing all the more with -longing for her.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” she said, “this war will end it, because -God is on our side. And afterward—oh, Jeff!”—her -face melted to tenderness again—“beyond—after -the end, after God has spoken and slavery -has been ended, then there will be peace, and for -us—” her voice dropped low—“happiness!”</p> - -<p>“God be the judge between us, Rhoda Ware,” -he exclaimed, “as to which is right! Will you -accept His judgment, as He speaks it in battle, -and promise to be my wife when the war is over, -whatever He has said?”</p> - -<p>Again her face was lifted, glowing with exaltation. -“God will never allow such an atonement -for evil-doing as this war will be,” she said -solemnly, “to be crowned by that very evil itself. -With faith in Him—I promise!”</p> - -<p>Scarcely had the words left her tongue when -she found herself swept to his breast and his lips -upon her brow, her eyes, her mouth.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_375">[375]</span>“Rhoda, my love, my love,” he whispered, -“it is a long good-by that lies before us, perhaps -even as long as it has been since I first begged for -your love, here among these vines.”</p> - -<p>“And there are battles and dangers, oh, so -many,” she whispered back, “between now and—the -end.”</p> - -<p>“But I have a talisman that will carry me safe -through it all, to the end—and you. See, my -sweet, how long I have kept it!” From an inner -pocket he took a little package and showed her a -withered rose, the mate of the one she herself so -treasured. “I have kept it there, next to my -heart, ever since the night you gave it me, for my -thoughts, five years ago!”</p> - -<p>She looked at it with wondering love, pressed -it to her lips and listened with a sweet smile upon -them as he said, putting it back again: “It shall -lie there always, dear heart, until all my thoughts -are yours and yours are mine. And it will always -tell me, as plainly as if with your own dear lips, to -fight to the uttermost!”</p> - -<p>Again she lifted her head proudly. “Yes, to -the uttermost, Jeff! For that way only can your -eyes be opened!”</p> - -<hr class="tb"> - -<p>He was gone, and she sat alone in the arbor, -with her lilacs pressed to her bosom, and listened -as the strains of martial music came to her ears. -It was a band playing, downtown, where volunteers<span class="pagenum" id="Page_376">[376]</span> -were being drilled. She could hear the -tramp of feet, the rattle of musketry, and the -words of command.</p> - -<p>Louder and louder the sound seemed to grow -in her ears until it became the booming of unnumbered -cannon and the tramp, tramp, tramp of -a million men. The smoke of battle dimmed her -eyes and all around her she seemed to hear the -cries and groans of mangled and dying men. -With white lips she whispered to herself, “With -bloody sweat and stripes we must pay—it is God’s -law!”</p> - -<p>Slowly her features relaxed, and presently, with -a tender smile curving her lips, she buried her face -in the lilac blooms. For the awful sights and -sounds had faded away and she had seen a vision -of the afterward.</p> - -<p class="center">THE END</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<div class="transnote"> -<p class="ph1">TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:</p> - -<p>Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.</p> - -<p>Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.</p> - -<p>Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.</p> - -<p>The cover image for this eBook was created by the transcriber using the original cover and is entered into the public domain.</p> -</div></div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RHODA OF THE UNDERGROUND ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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