An Original Belle By: E. P. Roe 1900 PREFACE. No race of men, scarcely an individual, is so devoid of intelligenceas not to recognize power. Few gifts are more courted. Power isalmost as varied as character, and the kind of power most desiredor appreciated is a good measure of character. The pre-eminencefurnished by thew and muscle is most generally recognized; but, asmen reach levels above the animal, other qualities take the lead. It is seen that the immaterial spirit wins the greater triumphs, --thatthe brainless giant, compared with the dwarf of trained intelligence, can accomplish little. The scale runs on into the moral qualities, until at last humanity has given its sanction to the Divine words, "Whosoever will be chief among you, let him be your servant. " Thefew who have successfully grasped the lever of which Archimedesdreamed are those who have attained the highest power to serve theworld. Among the myriad phases of power, perhaps that of a gifted andbeautiful woman is the most subtile and hard to define. It is notthe result of mere beauty, although that may be an important element;and if wit, intelligence, learning, accomplishments, and goodnessare added, all combined cannot wholly explain the power that somewomen possess. Deeper, perhaps more potent, than all else, is anindividuality which distinguishes one woman from all others, andimparts her own peculiar fascination. Of course, such words do notapply to those who are content to be commonplace themselves, andwho are satisfied with the ordinary homage of ordinary minds, orthe conventional attention of men who are incited to nothing better. One of the purposes of this story is to illustrate the power of ayoung girl not so beautiful or so good as many of her sisters. Shewas rather commonplace at first, but circumstances led her to theendeavor to be true to her own nature and conscience and to adopta very simple scheme of life. She achieved no marvellous success, nothing beyond the ability of multitudes like herself. I have also sought to reproduce with some color of life and realitya critical period in our civil war. The scenes and events of thestory culminate practically in the summer of 1863. The novel wasnot written for the sake of the scenes or events. They are employedmerely to illustrate character at the time and to indicate itsdevelopment. The reader in the South must be bitter and prejudiced indeed ifhe does not discover that I have sought to be fair to the impulsesand motives of its people. In touching upon the Battle of Gettysburg and other historicalevents, I will briefly say that I have carefully consulted authenticsources of information. For the graphic suggestion of certaindetails I am indebted to the "History of the 124th Regt. N. Y. S. V. , "by Col. Charles H. Weygant, to the recollections of Capt. ThomasTaft and other veterans now living. Lieut. -Col. H. C. Hasbrouck, commandant of Cadets at West Point, has kindly read the proof of chapters relating to the battle ofGettysburgh. My story is also related to the New York Draft Riots of 1863, anhistorical record not dwelt upon before in fiction to my knowledge. It is almost impossible to impart an adequate impression of thatreign of terror. I have not hoped to do this, or to give anythinglike a detailed and complete account of events. The scenes andincidents described, however, had their counterpart in fact. Rev. Dr. Howard Crosby of New York saw a young man face and dispersea mob of hundreds, by stepping out upon the porch of his home andshooting the leader. This event took place late at night. I have consulted "Sketches of the Draft Riots in 1863, " by Hon. J. T. Headley, the files of the Press of that time, and other records. The Hon. Thomas C. Acton. Superintendent of the Metropolitan Policeduring the riot, accorded me a hearing, and very kindly followedthe thread of my story through the stormy period in question. E. P. R CORNWALL-ON-HUDSON, N. Y. , AUG. 7, 1885. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. A RUDE AWAKENING CHAPTER II. A NEW ACQUAINTANCE CHAPTER III. A NEW FRIEND CHAPTER IV. WOMAN'S CHIEF RIGHT CHAPTER V. "BE HOPEFUL, THAT I MAY HOPE" CHAPTER VI. A SCHEME OF LIFE CHAPTER VII. SURPRISES CHAPTER VIII. CHARMED BY A CRITIC CHAPTER IX. A GIRL'S LIGHT HAND CHAPTER X. WILLARD MERWYN CHAPTER XI. AN OATH AND A GLANCE CHAPTER XII. "A VOW" CHAPTER XIII. A SIEGE BEGUN CHAPTER XIV. OMINOUS CHAPTER XV. SCORN CHAPTER XVI. AWAKENED AT LAST CHAPTER XVII. COMING TO THE POINT CHAPTER XVIII. A GIRL'S STANDARD CHAPTER XIX. PROBATION PROMISED CHAPTER XX. "YOU THINK ME A COWARD" CHAPTER XXI. FEARS AND PERPLEXITIES CHAPTER XXII. A GIRL'S THOUGHTS AND IMPULSES CHAPTER XXIII. "MY FRIENDSHIP IS MINE TO GIVE" CHAPTER XXIV. A FATHER'S FORETHOUGHT CHAPTER XXV. A CHAINED WILL CHAPTER XXVI. MARIAN'S INTERPRETATION OF MERWYN CHAPTER XXVII. "DE HEAD LINKUM MAN WAS CAP'N LANE" CHAPTER XXVIII. THE SIGNAL LIGHT CHAPTER XXIX. MARIAN CONTRASTS LANE AND MERWYN CHAPTER XXX THE NORTH INVADED CHAPTER XXXI. "I'VE LOST MY CHANCE" CHAPTER XXXII. BLAUVELT CHAPTER XXXIII. A GLIMPSE OF WAR CHAPTER XXXIV. A GLIMPSE OF WAR, CONTINUED CHAPTER XXXV. THE GRAND ASSAULT CHAPTER XXXVI. BLAUVELT'S SEARCH FOR STRAHAN CHAPTER XXXVII. STRAHAN'S ESCAPE CHAPTER XXXVIII. A LITTLE REBEL CHAPTER XXXIX. THE CURE OF CAPTAIN LANE CHAPTER XL. LOVE'S TRIUMPH CHAPTER XLI. SUNDAY'S LULL AND MONDAY'S STORM CHAPTER XLII. THAT WORST OF MONSTERS, A MOB CHAPTER XLIII. THE "COWARD" CHAPTER XLIV. A WIFE'S EMBRACE CHAPTER XLV. THE DECISIVE BATTLE CHAPTER XLVI. "I HAVE SEEN THAT YOU DETEST ME" CHAPTER XLVII. A FAIR FRIEND AND FOUL FOES CHAPTER XLVIII. DESPERATE FIGHTING CHAPTER XLIX. ONE FACING HUNDREDS CHAPTER L. ZEB CHAPTER LI. A TRAGEDY CHAPTER LII. "MOTHER AND SON" CHAPTER LIII. "MISSY S'WANEE" AN ORIGINAL BELLE. CHAPTER I. A RUDE AWAKENING. MARIAN VOSBURGH had been content with her recognized positionas a leading belle. An evening spent in her drawing-room revealedthat; but at the close of the particular evening which it was ourprivilege to select there occurred a trivial incident. She was ledto think, and thought is the precursor of action and change in allnatures too strong and positive to drift. On that night she wasan ordinary belle, smiling, radiant, and happy in following thetraditions of her past. She had been admired as a child, as a school-girl, and given aplace among the stars of the first magnitude since her formal debut. Admiration was as essential as sunshine; or, to change the figure, she had a large and a natural and healthful appetite for it. She wasalso quite as much entitled to it as the majority of her class. Thus far she had accepted life as she found it, and was in themain conventional. She was not a deliberate coquette; it was nother recognized purpose to give a heartache to as many as possible;she merely enjoyed in thoughtless exultation her power to attractyoung men to her side. There was keen excitement in watching them, from the moment of introduction, as they passed through the phasesof formal acquaintanceship into relations that bordered on sentiment. When this point was reached experiences sometimes followed whichcaused not a little compunction. She soon learned that society was full of men much like herself insome respects, ready to meet new faces, to use their old complimentsand flirtation methods over and over again. They could look unutterablethings at half a dozen different girls in the same season, whiletheir hearts remained as invulnerable as old-fashioned pin-cushions, heart-shaped, that adorn country "spare rooms. " But now and thena man endowed with a deep, strong nature would finally leave herside in troubled wonder or bitter cynicism. Her fair, young face, her violet eyes, so dark as to appear almost black at night, hadgiven no token that she could amuse herself with feelings thattouched the sources of life and death in such admirers. "They should have known better, that I was not in earnest, " shewould say, petulantly, and more or less remorsefully. But these sincere men, who had been so blind as to credit her withgentle truth and natural intuition, had some ideal of womanhoodwhich had led to their blunder. Conscious of revealing so muchthemselves by look, tone, and touch of hand, eager to supplementone significant glance by life-long loyalty, they were slow inunderstanding that answering significant glances meant only, "Ilike you very well, --better than others, just at present; but thenI may meet some one to-morrow who is a great deal more fun thanyou are. " Fun! With them it was a question of manhood, of life, and ofthat which gives the highest value and incentive to life. It wasinevitable, therefore, that Marian Vosburgh should become a mirageto more than one man; and when at last the delusion vanished, therewas usually a flinty desert to be crossed before the right, safepath was gained. From year to year Mr. Vosburgh had rented for his summer residencea pretty cottage on the banks of the Hudson. The region aboundedin natural beauty and stately homes. There was an infusion ofKnickerbocker blood in the pre-eminently elect ones of society, andfrom these there was a gradual shading off in several directions, until by some unwritten law the social line was drawn. Strangersfrom the city might be received within the inner circle, or theymight not, as some of the leaders practically decreed by theirown action. Mr. Vosburgh did not care in the least for the circleor its constituents. He was a stern, quiet man; one of the strongexecutive hands of the government at a time when the vital questionsof the day had come to the arbitrament of the sword. His callinginvolved danger, and required an iron will. The questions whichchiefly occupied his mind were argued by the mouths of cannon. As for Marian, she too cared little for the circle and its socialdignitaries. She had no concessions to make, no court to pay. She was not a dignitary, but a sovereign, and had her own court. Gentleman friends from the city made their headquarters at aneighboring summer hotel; young men from the vicinity were attractedlike moths, and the worst their aristocratic sisters could sayagainst the girl was that she had too many male friends, and wasnot "of their set. " Indeed, with little effort she could have wonrecognition from the bluest blood of the vicinage; but this was nother ambition. She cared little for the ladies of her neighborhood, and less for their ancestors, while she saw as much of the gentlemenas she desired. She had her intimates among her own sex, however, and was on the best terms with her good-natured, good-hearted, but rather superficial mother, who was a discreet, yet indulgentchaperon, proud of her daughter and of the attention she received, while scarcely able to comprehend that any serious trouble couldresult from it if the proprieties of life were complied with. Marian was never permitted to give that kind of encouragementwhich compromises a girl, and Mrs. Vosburgh felt that there herduty ceased. All that could be conveyed by the eloquent eye, theinflection of tones, and in a thousand other ways, was unnoted, and beyond her province. The evening of our choice is an early one in June. The air isslightly chilly and damp, therefore the parlor is preferable tothe vine-sheltered piazza, screened by the first tender foliage. We can thus observe Miss Vosburgh's deportment more closely, andtake a brief note of her callers. Mr. Lane is the first to arrive, perhaps for the reason that he isa downright suitor, who has left the city and business, in orderto further the interests nearest his heart. He is a keen-eyed, strong-looking fellow, well equipped for success by knowledge ofthe world and society; resolute, also, in attaining his desiredends. His attentions to Marian have been unmistakable for somemonths, and he believes that he has received encouragement. Intruth, he has been the recipient of the delusive regard that she isin the habit of bestowing. He is one whom she could scarcely failto admire and like, so entertaining is he in conversation, andendowed with such vitality and feeling that his words are not airynothings. He greets her with a strong pressure of the hand, and his firstglance reveals her power. "Why, this is an agreeable surprise, Mr. Lane, " she exclaims. "Agreeable? I am very glad to hear that, " he says, in his customarydirect speech. "Yes, I ran up from the city this afternoon. On myway to lunch I became aware of the beauty of the day, and as mythoughts persisted in going up the river I was led to follow them. One's life does not consist wholly of business, you know; at leastmine does not. " "Yet you have the reputation of being a busy man. " "I should hope so. What would you think of a young fellow not busyin these times?" "I am not sure I should think at all. You give us girls too muchcredit for thinking. " "Oh, no; there's no occasion for the plural. I don't give 'us girls'anything. I am much too busy for that. But I know you think, MissMarian, and have capacity for thought. " "Possibly you are right about the capacity. One likes to think onehas brains, you know, whether she uses them or not. I don't thinkvery much, however, --that is, as you use the word, for it impliesthe putting of one's mind on something and keeping it there. I liketo let thoughts come and go as the clouds do in our June skies. Idon't mean thunder-clouds and all they signify, but light vaporsthat have scarcely beginning or end, and no very definite being. I don't seem to have time or inclination for anything else, exceptwhen I meet you with your positive ways. I think it is very kindof you to come from New York to give me a pleasant evening. " "I'm not so very disinterested. New York has become a dull place, and if I aid you to pass a pleasant evening you insure a pleasanterone for me. What have you been doing this long June day, that youhave been too busy for thought?" "Let me see. What have I been doing? What an uncomfortable questionto ask a girl! You men say we are nothing but butterflies, youknow. " "I never said that of you. " "You ask a question which makes me say it virtually of myself. Thatis a way you keen lawyers have. Very well; I shall be an honestwitness, even against myself. That I wasn't up with the lark thismorning goes without saying. The larks that I know much about areon the wing after dinner in the evening. The forenoon is a variablesort of affair with many people. Literally I suppose it ends at 12M. , but with me it is rounded off by lunch, and the time of thatevent depends largely upon the kitchen divinity that we can lure tothis remote and desolate region. 'Faix, ' remarked that potentate, sniffing around disdainfully the day we arrived, 'does yez expectsthe loikes o' me to stop in this lonesomeness? We're jist at theind of the wourld. ' Mamma increased her wages, which were alreadydouble what she earns, and she still condescends to provide ourdaily food, giving me a forenoon which closes at her convenience. During this indefinite period I look after my flowers and birds, sing and play a little, read a little, entertain a little, and thusreveal to you a general littleness. In the afternoon I take a nap, so that I may be wide awake enough to talk to a bright man likeyou in case he should appear. Now, are you not shocked and painedat my frivolous life?" "You have come to the country for rest and recuperation, MissMarian?" "Oh, what a word, --'recuperation!' It never entered my head thatI had come into the country for that. Do I suggest a crying needfor recuperation?" "I wouldn't dare tell you all that you suggest to me, and I readmore than you say between your lines. When I approached the houseyou were chatting and laughing genially with your mother. " "Oh, yes, mamma and I have as jolly times together as two girls. " "That was evident, and it made a very pleasant impression on me. One thing is not so evident, and it indicates a rather one-sidedcondition of affairs. I could not prevent my thoughts from visitingyou often to-day before I came myself, but I fear that among yourJune-day occupations there has not been one thought of me. " She had only time to say, sotto voce, "Girls don't tell everything, "when the maid announced, from the door, "Mr. Strahan. " This second comer was a young man precociously mature after acertain style. His home was a fine old place in the vicinity, butin his appearance there was no suggestion of the country; nor didhe resemble the violet, although he was somewhat redolent of theextract of that modest flower. He was dressed in the extreme ofthe prevailing mode, and evidently cultivated a metropolitan air, rather than the unobtrusive bearing of one who is so thoroughly agentleman that he can afford to be himself. Mr. Strahan was quitesure of his welcome, for he felt that he brought to the littlecottage a genuine Madison-avenue atmosphere. He was greeted withthe cordiality which made Miss Vosburgh's drawing-room one of thepleasantest of lounging-places, whether in town or country; andunder his voluble lead conversation took the character of fashionablegossip, which would have for the reader as much interest asthe presentation of some of the ephemeral weeds of that period. But Mr. Strahan's blue eyes were really animated as he venturedperilously near a recent scandal in high life. His budget of newswas interspersed with compliments to his hostess, which, like theextract on his handkerchief, were too pronounced. Mr. Lane regardedhim with politely veiled disgust, but was too well-bred not tosecond Miss Vosburgh's remarks to the best of his ability. Before long two or three more visitors dropped in. One from the hotelwas a millionnaire, a widower leisurely engaged in the selection ofa second wife. Another was a young artist sketching in the vicinity. A third was an officer from West Point who knew Mr. Vosburgh. There were also callers from the neighborhood during the evening. Mrs. Vosburgh made her appearance early, and was almost as skilfula hostess as her daughter. But few of the guests remained long. They had merely come to enjoy a pleasant half-hour or more undercircumstances eminently agreeable, and would then drive on and payone or two visits in the vicinity. That was the way in which nearlyall Marian's "friendships" began. The little parlor resounded with animated talk, laughter, and music, that was at the same time as refined as informal. Mrs. Vosburghwould seat herself at the piano, that a new dancing-step or a newsong might be tried. The gentlemen were at liberty to light theircigars and form groups among themselves, so free from stiffnesswas Marian's little salon. Brief time elapsed, however, without aword to each, in her merry, girlish voice, for she had the instinctsof a successful hostess, and a good-natured sense of honor, whichmade her feel that each guest was entitled to attention. She wasnot much given to satire, and the young men soon learned that shewould say more briery things to their faces than behind their backs. It was also discovered that ill-natured remarks about callers whohad just departed were not tolerated, --that within certain limitsshe was loyal to her friends, and that, she was too high-minded tospeak unhandsomely of one whom she had just greeted cordially. Ifshe did not like a man she speedily froze him out of the ranks ofher acquaintance; but for such action there was not often occasion, since she and her mother had a broad, easy tolerance of thosegenerally accepted by society. Even such as left her parlor finallywith wounds for which there was no rapid healing knew that no onewould resent a jest at their expense more promptly than the girlwhom they might justly blame for having smiled too kindly. Thus she remained a general favorite. It was recognized that she hada certain kind of loyalty which could be depended upon. Of coursesuch a girl would eventually marry, and with natural hope andegotism each one felt that he might be the successful competitor. At any rate, as in war, they must take their chances, and it seemsthat there is never a lack of those willing to assume such risks. Thus far, however, Marian had no inclination to give up her presentlife of variety and excitement. She preferred incense from manyworshippers to the devotion of one. The secret of this was perhapsthat her heart had remained so untouched and unconscious that shescarcely knew she had one. She understood the widower's preference, enjoyed the compliment, and should there be occasion would, inperfect good taste, beg to be excused. Her pulse was a little quickened by Mr. Lane's downright earnestness, and when matters should come to a crisis she would say lovelythings to him of her esteem, respect, regret, etc. She would wishthey might remain friends--why could they not, when she liked himso much? As for love and engagement, she did not, could not, thinkof that yet. She was skilful, too, in deferring such crises, and to-night, inobedience to a signal, Mrs. Vosburgh remained until even Mr. Lanedespaired of another word in private, and departed, fearing to puthis fate to the test. At last the dainty apartment, the merry campaigning-ground, wasdarkened, and Marian, flushed, wearied, and complacent, steppedout on the piazza to breathe for a few moments the cool, fragrantair. She had dropped into a rustic seat, and was thinking overthe events of the evening with an amused smile, when the followingstartling words arose from the adjacent shrubbery:-- "Arrah, noo, will ye niver be sinsible? Here I'm offerin' ye meheart, me loife. I'd be glad to wourk for ye, and kape ye loike aleddy. I'd be thrue to ye ivery day o' me loife, --an' ye knows it, but ye jist goes on makin' eyes at this wan an' flirtin' wid thatwan an' spakin' swate to the t'other, an' kapin' all on the stringtill they can nayther ate nor slape nor be half the min they weretill ye bewildered 'em. Ye're nothin' but a giddy, light-minded, shallow crather, a spoilin' min for your own fun. I've kep' companywid ye a year, and ye've jist blowed hot and cowld till I'm notmeself any more, and have come nigh losin' me place. Noo, by St. Patrick, ye must show whether ye're a woman or a heartless jadethat will sind a man to the divil for sport. " These words were poured out with the impetuosity of longsufferingendurance finally vanquished, and before the speaker had concludedMarian was on her way to the door, that she might not listen to aconversation of so delicate a nature. But she did not pass beyondhearing before part of the reply reached her. "Faix, an' I'm no wourse than me young mistress. " It was a chance arrow, but it went straight to the mark, aad whenMarian reached her room her cheeks were aflame. CHAPTER II. A NEW ACQUAINTANCE. Gross matter can change form and character in a moment, when merelytouched by the effective agent. It is easy to imagine, therefore, how readily a woman's quick mind might be influenced by a truthor a thought of practical and direct application. All the homiliesever written, all the counsel of matrons and sages, could nothave produced on Marian so deep an impression as was made by thesefew chance words. They came as a commentary, not only on her pastlife, but on the past few hours. Was it true, then, that she was nobetter than the coquettish maid, the Irish servant in the family'semploy? Was she, with her education and accomplishments, her socialposition and natural gifts, acting on no higher plane, influencedby no worthier motives and no loftier ambition? Was the ignorantgirl justified in quoting her example in extenuation of a coursethat to a plain and equally ignorant man seemed unwomanly to thelast degree? Wherein was she better? Wherein lay the difference between her andthe maid? She covered her hot face with her hands as the question took theform: "Wherein am I worse? Is not our principle of action the same, while I have greater power and have been crippling higher typesof men, and giving them, for sport, an impulse towards the devil?Fenton Lane has just gone from my side with trouble in his eyes. He will not be himself to-morrow, not half the man he might be. He left me in doubt and fear. Could I do anything oppressed withdoubt and fear? He has set his heart on what can never be. Could Ihave prevented him from doing this? One thing at least is certain, --Ihave not tried to prevent it, and I fear there have been many littlenameless things which he would regard as encouragement. And heis only one. With others I have gone farther and they have faredworse. It is said that Mr. Folger, whom I refused last winter, isbecoming dissipated. Mr. Arton shuns society and sneers at women. Oh, don't let me think of any more. What have I been doing thatthis coarse kitchen-maid can run so close a parallel between herlife and mine? How unwomanly and repulsive it all seems, as thatman put it! My delight and pride have been my gentleman friends, and what one of them is the better, or has a better prospect forlife, because of having known me? Could there be a worse satire onall the fine things written about woman and her influence than myhitherto vain and complacent self?" Sooner or later conscience tells the truth to all; and the soonerthe better, unless the soul arraigned is utterly weak, or elsebelongs essentially to the criminal classes, which require almosta miracle to reverse their evil gravitation. Marian Vosburghwas neither weak nor criminal at heart. Thus far she had yieldedthoughtlessly, inconsiderately, rather than deliberately, to thecircumstances and traditions of her life. Her mother had been abelle and something of a coquette, and, having had her career, wasin the main a good and sensible wife. She had given her husbandlittle trouble if not much help. She had slight interest in that whichmade his life, and slight comprehension of it, but in affectionateindifference she let him go his way, and was content with her domesticaffairs, her daughter, and her novel. Marian had unthinkingly lookedforward to much the same experience as her natural lot. To-nightshe found herself querying: "Are there men to-day who are not halfwhat they might have been because of mamma's delusive smiles? Haveany gone down into shadows darker than those cast by misfortune anddeath, because she permitted herself to become the light of theirlives and then turned away?" Then came the rather painful reflection: "Mamma is not one to betroubled by such thoughts. It does not even worry her that she isso little to papa, and that he virtually carries on his life-workalone. I don't see how I can continue my old life after to-night. I had better shut myself up in a convent; yet just how I can changeeverything I scarcely know. " The night proved a perturbed and almost sleepless one from the chaosand bitterness of her thoughts. The old was breaking up; the new, beginning. The morning found her listless, discontented, and unhappy. Theglamour had faded out of her former life. She could not continuethe tactics practised in coarse imitation by the Irish servant, whotook her cue as far as possible from her mistress. The repugnancewas due as much to the innate delicacy and natural superiority ofMarian's nature as to her conscience. Her clear, practical senseperceived that her course differed from the other only in beingveneered by the refinements of her social position, --that the evilresults were much greater. The young lady's friends were capable ofreceiving more harm than the maid could inflict upon her acquaintances. There would be callers again during the day and evening, and shedid not wish to see them. Their society now would be like a glassof champagne from which the life had effervesced. At last in her restlessness and perplexity she decided to spend aday or two with her father in their city home, where he was campingout, as he termed it. She took a train to town, and sent a messengerboy to his office with a note asking him to dine with her. Mr. Vosburgh looked at her a little inquiringly as he entered hishome, which had the comfortless aspect of a city house closed forthe summer. "Am I de trop, papa? I have come to town for a little quiet, andto do some shopping. " "Come to New York for quiet?" "Yes. The country is the gayest place now, and you know a goodmany are coming and going. I am tired, and thought an evening ortwo with you would be a pleasant change. You are not too busy?" "It certainly will be a change for you, Marian. " "Now there's a world of satire in that remark, and deserved, too, I fear. Mayn't I stay?" "Yes, indeed, till you are tired of me; and that won't be long inthis dull place, for we are scarcely in a condition now to receivecallers, you know. " "What makes you think I shall be tired of you soon, papa?" "Oh--well--I'm not very entertaining. You appear to like variety. I suppose it is the way with girls. " "You are not consumed with admiration for girls' ways, are you, papa?" "I confess, my dear, that I have not given the subject much research. As a naturalist would say, I have no doubt that you and your classhave curious habits and interesting peculiarities. There is agreat deal of life, you know, which a busy man has to accept in ageneral way, especially when charged with duties which are a severeand constant strain upon his mind. I try to leave you and yourmother as free from care as possible. You left her well, I trust?" "Very well, and all going on as usual. I'm dissatisfied with myself, papa, and you unconsciously make me far more so. Is a woman to beonly a man's plaything, and a dangerous one at that?" "Why, Marian, you ARE in a mood! I suppose a woman, like a man, canbe very much what she pleases. You certainly have had a chance tofind out what pleases most women in your circle of acquaintances, and have made it quite clear what pleases you. " "Satire again, " she said, despondently. "I thought perhaps youcould advise and help me. " He came and took her face between his hands, looking earnestly intoher troubled blue eyes. "Are you not content to be a conventional woman?" he asked, aftera moment. "No!" was her emphatic answer. "Well, there are many ways of being a little outre in this ageand land, especially at this stormy period. Perhaps you want acareer, --something that will give you a larger place in the publiceye?" She turned away to hide the tears that would come. "O papa, youdon't understand me at all, and I scarcely understand myself, " shefaltered. "In some respects you are as conventional as mamma, andare almost a Turk in your ideas of the seclusion of women. The ideaof my wanting public notoriety! As I feel now, I'd rather go to aconvent. " "We'll go to dinner first; then a short drive in the park, for youlook pale, and I long for a little fresh air myself. I have beenat my desk since seven this morning, and have had only a sandwich. " "Why do you have to work so hard, papa?" "I can give you two reasons in a breath, --you mentioned 'shopping, 'and my country is at war. They don't seem very near of kin, dothey? Documents relating to both converge in my desk, however. " "Have I sent you more bills than usual?" "Not more than usual. " "I believe I'm a fool. " "I know you are a very pretty little girl, who will feel betterafter dinner and a drive, " was the laughing reply. They were soon seated in a quiet family restaurant, but the younggirl was too perturbed in mind to enjoy the few courses ordered. With self-reproach she recognized the truth that she was engagedin the rather unusual occupation of becoming acquainted withher father. He sat before her, with his face, generally stern andinscrutable, softened by a desire to be companionable and sympathetic. According to his belief she now had "a mood, " and after a day ortwo of quiet retirement from the world she would relapse into herold enjoyment of social attention, which would be all the deeperfor its brief interruption. Mr. Vosburgh was of German descent. In his daily life he had becomeAmericanized, and was as practical in his methods as the shrewdpeople with whom he dealt, and whom he often outwitted. Apartfrom this habit of coping with life just as he found it, he had aninner nature of which few ever caught a glimpse, --a spirit and animagination deeply tinged with German ideality and speculation. Often, when others slept, this man, who appeared so resolute, hard, and uncompromising in the performance of duties, and who wasunderstood by but few, would read deeply in metaphysics and romanticpoetry. Therefore, the men and women who dwelt in his imaginationwere not such as he had much to do with in real life. Indeed, he hadcome to regard the world of reality and that of fancy as entirelydistinct, and to believe that only here and there, as a man or womanpossessed something like genius, would there be a marked deviationfrom ordinary types. The slight differences, the little characteristicmeannesses or felicities that distinguished one from another, didnot count for very much in his estimation. When a knowledge ofsuch individual traits was essential to his plans, he mastered themwith singular keenness and quickness of comprehension. When suchknowledge was unnecessary, or as soon as it ceased to be of service, he dismissed the extraneous personalities from his mind almostas completely as if they had had no existence. Few men were lessembarrassed with acquaintances than he; yet he had an observanteye and a retentive memory. When he wanted a man he rarely failedto find the right one. In the selection and use of men he appearedto act like an intelligent and silent force, rather than as a manfull of human interests and sympathies. He rarely spoke of himself, even in the most casual way. Most of those with whom he mingledknew merely that he was an agent of the government, and that hekept his own counsel. His wife was to him a type of the averageAmerican woman, --pretty, self-complacent, so nervous as to requirekind, even treatment, content with feminalities, and sufficientlyintelligent to talk well upon every-day affairs. In her society hesmiled at her, said "Yes, " good-humoredly, to almost everything, and found slight incentive to depart from his usual reticence. Shehad learned the limits of her range, and knew that within it therewas entire liberty, beyond it a will like adamant. They got on admirablytogether, for she craved nothing further in the way of liberty andcompanionship than was accorded her, while he soon recognized thatthe prize carried off from other competitors could no more followhim into his realm of thought and action than she could accompanyhim on a campaign. At last he had concluded philosophically thatit was just as well. He was engaged in matters that should not beinterfered with or babbled about, and he could come and go withoutquestioning. He had occasionally thought: "If she were such a womanas I have read of and imagined, --if she could supplement my reasonwith the subtilty of intuition and the reticence which some of hersex have manifested, --she would double my power and share my innerlife, for there are few whom I can trust. The thing is impossible, however, and so I am glad she is content. " As for Marian, she had promised, in his view, to be but a charmingrepetition of her mother, with perhaps a mind of larger calibre. She had learned more and had acquired more accomplishments, but allthis resulted, possibly, from her better advantages. Her drawing-roomconversation seemed little more than the ordinary small talk of theday, fluent and piquant, while the girl herself was as undisturbedby the vital questions of the hour and of life, upon which he dwelt, as if she had been a child. He knew that she received much attention, but it excited little thought on his part, and no surprise. He believed that her mother was perfectly competent to look afterthe proprieties, and that young fellows, as had been the case withhimself, would always seek pretty, well-bred girls, and take theirchances as to what the women who might become their wives shouldprove to be. Marian looked with awakening curiosity and interest at the facebefore her, yet it was the familiar visage of her father. She hadseen it all her life, but now felt that she had never before seenit in its true significance--its strong lines, square jaw, andquiet gray eyes, with their direct, steady gaze. He had come andgone before her daily, petted her now and then a little, met herrequests in the main good-humoredly, paid her bills, and wouldprotect her with his life; yet a sort of dull wonder came over heras she admitted to herself that he was a stranger to her. She knewlittle of his work and duty, less of his thoughts, the mental realmin which the man himself dwelt. What were its landmarks, what itscharacteristic features, she could not tell. One may be familiarwith the outlines of a country on a map, yet be ignorant of thescenery, productions, inhabitants, governing forces, and principles. Her very father was to her but a man in outline. She knew little ofthe thoughts that peopled his brain, of the motives and principlesthat controlled his existence, giving it individuality, and evenless of the resulting action with which his busy life abounded. Although she had crossed the threshold of womanhood, she was stillto him the self-pleasing child that he had provided for sinceinfancy; and he was, in her view, the man to whom, according to thelaw of nature and the family, she was to look for the maintenanceof her young life, with its almost entire separation in thoughts, pleasures, and interests. She loved him, of course. She had alwaysloved him, from the time when she had stretched forth her baby handsto be taken and fondled for a few moments and then relinquished toothers. Practically she had dwelt with others ever since. Now, asa result, she did not understand him, nor he her. She would misshim as she would oxygen from the air. Now she began to perceivethat, although he was the unobtrusive source of her life, home, education, and the advantages of her lot, he was not impersonal, but a human being as truly as herself. Did he want more from herthan the common and instinctive affection of a child for its parent?If to this she added intelligent love, appreciation, and sympathy, would he care? If she should be able to say, "Papa, I am kin to you, not merely in flesh and blood, but in mind, hope, and aspiration;I share with you that which makes your life, with its success andfailure, not as the child who may find luxurious externals curtailedor increased, but as a sympathetic woman who understands the morevital changes in spiritual vicissitude, "--if she could truthfullysay all this, would he be pleased and reveal himself to her? Thoughts like these passed through her mind as they dined togetherand drove in the park. When at last they returned and sat in thedimly-lighted parlor, Mr. Vosburgh recognized that her "mood" hadnot passed away. CHAPTER III. A NEW FRIEND. "MARIAN, " asked her father, after smoking awhile in silence, "whatdid you mean by your emphatic negative when I asked you if you werenot content to be a conventional woman? How much do you mean?" "I wish you would help me find out, papa. " "How! don't you know?" "I do not; I am all at sea. " "Well, my dear, to borrow your own illustration, you can't be farfrom shore yet. Why not return? You have seemed entirely satisfiedthus far. " "Were you content with me, papa?" "I think you have been a very good little girl, as girls go. " "'Good little girl, as girls go;' that's all. " "That's more than can be said of many. " "Papa, I'm not a little girl; I am a woman of twenty years. " "Yes, I know; and quite as sensible as many at forty. " "I am no companion for you. " "Indeed you are; I've enjoyed having you with me this eveningexceedingly. " "Yes, as you would have enjoyed my society ten years ago. I've beenbut a little girl to you all the time. Do you know the thought thathas been uppermost in my mind since you joined me?" "How should I? How long does one thought remain uppermost in agirl's mind?" "I don't blame you for your estimate. My thought is this, --we arenot acquainted with each other. " "I think I was acquainted with you, Marian, before this mood began. " "Yes, I think you were; yet I was capable of this 'mood, ' as youcall it, before. " "My child, " said Mr. Vosburgh, coming to her side and stroking herhair, "I have spoken more to draw you out than for anything else. Heaven forbid that you for a moment should think me indifferent toanything that relates to your welfare! You wish me to advise, tohelp you. Before I can do this I must have your confidence, I mustknow your thoughts and impulses. You can scarcely have a purposeyet. Even a quack doctor will not attempt diagnosis or prescribehis nostrum without some knowledge of the symptoms. When I lastsaw you in the country you certainly appeared like a conventionalsociety girl of an attractive type, and were evidently satisfiedso to remain. You see I speak frankly, and reveal to you my habitof making quick practical estimates, and of taking the world as Ifind it. You say you were capable of this mood--let us call it anaspiration--before. I do not deny this, yet doubt it. When peoplechange it is because they are ripe, or ready for change, asare things in nature. One can force or retard nature; but I don'tbelieve much in intervention. With many I doubt whether there iseven much opportunity for it. They are capable of only the gradualmodification of time and circumstances. Young people are apt tohave spasms of enthusiasm, or of self-reproach and dissatisfaction. These are of little account in the long run, unless there is fibreenough in character to face certain questions, decide them, andthen act resolutely on definite lines of conduct. I have now givenyou my views, not as to a little child, but as to a mature womanof twenty. Jesting apart, you ARE old enough, Marian, to thinkfor yourself, and decide whether you will be conventional or not. The probabilities are that you will follow the traditions of yourpast in a very ladylike way. That is the common law. You are toowell-bred and refined to do anything that society would condemn. " "You are not encouraging, papa. " "Nor am I discouraging. If you have within you the force to breakfrom your traditions and stop drifting, you will make the factevident. If you haven't it would be useless for me to attemptto drag, drive, or coax you out of old ways. I am too busy a manto attempt the useless. But until you tell me your present mentalattitude, and what has led to it, we are talking somewhat at random. I have merely aimed to give you the benefit of some experience. " "Perhaps you are taking the right course; I rather think you are. Perhaps I prove what a child I am still, because I feel that Ishould like to have you treat me more as you did when I was learningto walk. Then you stretched out your hands, and sustained me, andshowed me step by step. Papa, if this is a mood, and I go backto my old, shallow life, with its motives, its petty and unworthytriumphs, I shall despise myself, and ever have the humiliatingconsciousness that I am doing what is contemptible. No matter howone obtains the knowledge of a truth or a secret, that knowledgeexists, remains, and one can't be the same afterwards. It makes mycheeks tingle that I obtained my knowledge as I did. It came likea broad glare of garish light, in which I saw myself;" and she toldhim the circumstances. He burst into a hearty laugh, and remarked, "Pat did put the ethicsof the thing strongly. " "He made 'the thing, ' as you call it, odious then and forever. I'vebeen writhing in self-contempt ever since. When to be conventionalis to be like a kitchen-maid, and worse, do you wonder at my revoltfrom the past?" "Others won't see it in that light, my dear. " "What does it matter how others see it? I have my own life to live, to make or mar. How can I go on hereafter amusing myself in whatnow seems a vulgar, base, unwomanly way? It was a coarse, rudehand that awakened me, papa, but I am awake. Since I have met youI have had another humiliation. As I said, I am not even acquaintedwith you. I have never shown any genuine interest in that whichmakes your life, and you have no more thought of revealing yourselfand your work to me than to a child. " "Marian, " said her father, slowly, "I think you are not only capableof a change, but ripe for it. You inspire hope within me, and thisfact carries with it the assurance that you also inspire respect. No, my dear, you don't know much about me; very few do. No manwith a nature like mine reveals himself where there is no desirefor the knowledge, no understanding, no sympathy, or even whereall these exist, unless prompted by his heart. You know I am thelast one in the world to put myself on exhibition. But it wouldbe a heavenly joy to me--I might add surprise--if my own daughterbecame like some of the women of whom I have read and dreamed; andI do read and dream of that in which you little imagine me to beinterested. To the world I am a stern, reticent, practical man I mustbe such in my calling. In my home I have tried to be good-natured, affectionate, and philosophical. I have seen little opportunity foranything more. I do not complain, but merely state a fact whichindicates the general lot. We can rarely escape the law of heredity, however. A poet and a metaphysician were among our German ancestry;therefore, leading from the business-like and matter-of-fact apartmentof my mind, I have a private door by which I can slip away intothe realm of speculation, romance, and ideals. You perceive thatI have no unnatural or shame-faced reticence about this habit. Itell you of it the moment you show sufficient interest to warrantmy speaking. " "But, papa, I cannot hope to approach or even suggest the idealsof your fancy, dressed, no doubt, in mediaeval costume, and talkingin blank verse. " "That's a superficial view, Marian. Neither poetic or outlandishcostume, nor the impossible language put into the mouths of theircreations by the old bards, makes the unconventional woman. Thereis, in truth, a conventionality about these very things, only itis antiquated. It is not a woman's dress or phraseology that makesher an ideal or an inspiration, but what she is herself. No twoleaves are alike on the same tree, but they are all enough aliketo make but one impression. Some are more shapely than others, and flutter from their support with a fairer and more conspicuousgrace to the closely observant; but there is nothing independentabout them, nothing to distinguish them especially from theircompanions. They fulfil their general purpose, and fall away. Thissimile applies to the majority of people. Not only poetry and romance, but history also, gives us instances wherein men and women differand break away from accepted types, some in absurd or grotesqueways, others through the sheer force of gifted selfishness, andothers still in natural, noble development of graces of heart andmind. " "Stop generalizing, and tell me, your silly, vain, flirtatiousdaughter, how I can be unconventional in this prosaic midday ofcivilization. " "Prosaic day? You are mistaken, Marian. There never was a periodlike it Barbaric principles, older than Abraham, are now to triumph, or give place to a better and more enlightened human nature. Wealmost at this moment hear the echoes of a strife in which specimensof the best manhood of the age are arrayed against one another ina struggle such as the world has never witnessed. I have my partin the conflict, and it brings to me great responsibilities anddangers. " "Dangers! You in danger, papa?" "Yes, certainly. Since you wish to be treated like a woman, and nota child, --since you wish me to show my real life, --you shall knowthe truth. I am controlled by the government that is engaged in alife-and-death struggle to maintain its own existence and preservefor the nation its heritage of liberty. Thus far I have been ableto serve the cause in quiet, unrecognized ways that I need not nowexplain; but I am one who must obey orders, and I wish to do so, for my heart is in the work. I am no better than other men whoare risking all. Mamma knows this in a way, but she does not fullycomprehend it. Fortunately she is not one of those who take veryanxious thought for the morrow, and you know I am inclined to letthings go on quietly as long as they will. Thus far I have merelygone to an office as I did before the war, or else have been absenton trips that were apparently civilian in character, and it hasbeen essential that I should have as little distraction of mindas possible. I have lived long in hope that some decisive victorymight occur; but the future grows darker, instead of lighter, andthe struggle, instead of culminating speedily, promises to becomemore deadly and to be prolonged. There is but one way out ofit for me, and that is through the final triumph of the old flag. Therefore, what a day will bring forth God only knows. There havebeen times when I wished to tell you something of this, but thereseemed little opportunity. As you said, a good many were coming andgoing, you seemed happy and preoccupied, and I got into the habitof reasoning, 'Every day that passes without a thought of troubleis just so much gained; and it may be unnecessary to cloud her lifewith fear and anxiety;' yet perhaps it would be mistaken kindnessto let trouble come suddenly, like an unexpected blow. I confess, however, that I have had a little natural longing to be more to myonly child than I apparently was, but each day brought its increasingpress of work and responsibility, its perplexing and far-reachingquestions. Thus time has passed, and I said, 'Let her be alight-hearted girl as long as she can. '" "O papa, what a blind, heartless fool I've been!" "No, my dear, only young and thoughtless, like thousands ofothers. It so happened that nothing occurred to awaken you. Oneday of your old life begat another. That so slight a thing shouldmake you think, and desire to be different, promises much to me, for if your nature had been shallow and commonplace, you wouldn'thave been much disturbed. If you have the spirit your words indicateto-night, it will be better for you to face life in the height anddepth of its reality, trusting in God and your own womanhood forstrength to meet whatever comes. Those who live on this higherplane have deeper sorrows, but also far richer joys, than those whoexist from hand to mouth, as it were, in the immediate and materialpresent. What's more, they cease to be plebeian in the meaner senseof the word, and achieve at one step a higher caste. They have brokenthe conventional type, and all the possibilities of developmentopen at once. You are still a young, inexperienced girl, and havedone little in life except learn your lessons and amuse yourself, yet in your dissatisfaction and aspiration you are almost infinitelyremoved from what you were yesterday, for you have attained thepower to grow and develop. " "You are too philosophical for me. How shall I grow or develop?" "I scarcely know. " "What definite thing shall I do to-morrow?" "Do what the plant does. Receive the influence that tends to quickenyour best impulses and purposes; follow your awakened consciencenaturally. Do what seems to you womanly, right, noble in little thingsor in great things, should there be opportunity. Did Shakespeare, as a child, propose to write the plays which have made him chiefamong men? He merely yielded to the impulse when it came. The lawholds good down to you, my little girl. You have an impulse whichis akin to that of genius. Instead of continuing your old indolent, strolling gait on the dead level of life, you have left the beatentrack and faced the mountain of achievement. Every resolute stepforward takes you higher, even though it be but an inch; yet Icannot see the path by which you will climb, or tell you the heightyou may gain. The main thing is the purpose to ascend. For ihosebent on noble achievement there is always a path. God only knowsto what it may bring you. One step leads to another, and you willbe guided better by the instincts and laws of your own nature thanif I tried to lead you step by step. The best I can do is to giveyou a little counsel, and a helping hand now and then, as theoccasion requires. " "Now in truth, papa, do not all your fine words signify about whatyou and mamma used to say years ago, --'You must be a good littlegirl, and then you will be happy'? It seems to me that many goodpeople are conventionality itself. " "Many are, and if they ARE good, it is a fortunate phase ofconventionality. For instance, I know of a man who by the law ofheredity and the force of circumstances has scarcely a bad habitor trait, and has many good ones. He meets the duties of life inan ordinary, satisfactory way, and with little effort on his part Iknow of another man who externally presents nearly the same aspectto society, who is quiet and unobtrusive in his daily life, andyet he is fighting hereditary taint and habit with a daily heroism, such as no soldier in the war can surpass. He is not conventional, although he appears to be so. He is a knight who is not afraid toface demons. Genuine strength and originality of character do notconsist in saying or doing things in an unusual way. Voluntaryeccentrics are even worse than the imitators of some model or thecareless souls which take . Their coloring from chance surroundings. Conventionality ceases when a human being begins the resolutedevelopment of his own. Natural law of growth to the utmost extent. This is true because nature in her higher work is not stereotyped. I will now be as definite as you can desire. You, for instance, Marian Vosburgh, are as yet, even to yourself, an unknown quantity. You scarcely know what you are, much less what you may become. Thisconversation, and the feeling which led to it, prove this. Thereare traits and possibilities in your nature due to ancestors ofwhom you have not even heard. These combine with your own individualendowments by nature to make you a separate and distinct being, andyou grow more separate and distinct by developing nature's gifts, traits, powers, --in brief, that which is essentially your own. Thusnature becomes your ally and sees to it with absolute certainty thatyou are not like other people. Following this principle of actionyou cannot know, nor can any one know, to just what you may attain. All true growth is from within, outward. In the tree, natural lawprevents distortion or exaggeration of one part over another. Inyour case reason, conscience, good taste, must supervise and directnatural impulses. Thus following nature you become natural, andcease to be conventional. If you don't do this you will be eitherconventional or queer. Do you understand me?" "I think I begin to. Let me see if I do. Let me apply your words toone definite problem, --How can I be more helpful and companionableto you?" "Why, Marian, do you not see how infinitely more to me you arealready, although scarcely beyond the wish to be different fromwhat you were? I have talked to you as a man talks to a woman in thedearest and most unselfish relation of life. There is one thing, however, you never can know, and that is a father's love for adaughter: it is essentially a man's love and a man's experience. Iam sure it is very different from the affection I should have fora son, did I possess one. Ever since you were a baby the phrase, 'my little girl, ' has meant more than you can ever know; and nowwhen you come voluntarily to my side in genuine sympathy, and seekto enter INTELLIGENTLY into that which makes my life, you changeeverything for the better, precisely as that which was in cold, gray shadow before is changed by sunlight. You add just so much byyour young, fresh, womanly life to my life, and it is all the morewelcome because it is womanly and different from mine. You ceaseto be a child, a dependant to be provided for, and become a friend, an inspiration, a confidante. These relations may count little toheavy, stolid, selfish men, to whom eating, drinking, excitement, and money-making are the chief considerations, but to men of mindand ideals, especially to a man who has devoted, his heart, brain, and life to a cause upon which the future of a nation depends, theyare pre-eminent. You see I am a German at heart, and must have myworld of thought and imagination, as well as the world in which menlook at me with cold, hard, and even hostile eyes. Thus far thisideal world has been peopled chiefly by the shadows of those whohave lived in the past or by the characters of the great creatorsin poetry. Now if my blue-eyed daughter can prove to me that shehas too much heart and brain to be an ordinary society-girl likehalf a million of others, and will share my interest in the greatthoughts and achievements of the past and the greater questionsof to-day, --if she can prove that when I have time I may enjoy atryst with her in regions far remote from shallow, coarse, commonplaceminds, --is not my whole life enriched? We can read some of myfavorite authors together and trace their influence on the thoughtof the world. We can take up history and see how to-day's struggleis the result of the past. I think I could soon give you anintelligent idea of the questions of the time, for which men arehourly dying. The line of battle stretches across the continent, and so many are engaged that every few moments a man, and too oftena woman from heart-break, dies that the beloved cause may triumph. Southern girls and women, as a rule, are far more awake to the eventsof the time than their sisters in the North. Such an influence onthe struggle can scarcely be over-estimated. They create a publicsentiment that drives even the cowardly into the ranks, and theirwords and enthusiasm incite brave young men to even chivalric courage. It is true that there are very many like them in the North, butthere are also very many who restrain the men over whom they haveinfluence, --who are indifferent, as you have been, or in sympathywith the South, --or who, as is true in most instances, do not yetsee the necessity for self-sacrifice. We have not truly felt thewar yet, but it will sooner or later come home to every one who hasa heart. I have been in the South, and have studied the spirit ofthe people. They are just as sincere and conscientious as we are, and more in earnest as yet. Christian love and faith, there, lookto Heaven for sanction with absolute sincerity, and mothers sendtheir sons, girls their lovers, and wives their husbands, to dieif need be. For the political conspirators who have thought firstand always of their ambition I have only detestation, but for thepeople of the South--for the man I may meet in the ranks and killif I can--I have profound respect. I should know he was wrong, Ishould be equally sure that he believed himself right. "Look at the clock, my dear, and see how long I have talked toyou. Can you now doubt that you will be companionable to me? Mendown town think I am hard as a rock, but your touch of sympathyhas been as potent as the stroke of Moses' rod. You have had aninundation of words, and the future is rosy to me with hope becauseyou are not asleep. " "Have I shown lack of interest, papa?" "No, Marian, your intent eyes have been eloquent with feeling. Therefore I have spoken so long and fully. You have, as it were, drawn the words from me. You have made this outpouring of my heartseem as natural as breathing, for when you look as you do to-night, I can almost think aloud to you. You have a sympathetic face, mychild, and when expressing intelligent sympathy it grows beautiful. It was only pretty before. Prettiness is merely a thing of outlineand color; beauty comes from the soul. " She came and stood at his side, resting her arm lightly on hisshoulder. "Papa, " she said, "your words are a revelation to me. Your worldis indeed a new one, and a better one than mine. But I must ceaseto be a girl, and become a woman, to enter it. " "You need not be less happy; you do not loset anything. A pictureis ever finer for shadows and depth of perspective. You can't getanything very fine, in either art or life, from mere bright surfaceglare. " "I can't go back to that any more; something in my very soul tellsme that I cannot; and your loneliness and danger would render eventhe wish to do so base. No, I feel now that I would rather bea woman, even though it involves a crown of thorns, than to be ashallow creature that my own heart would despise. I may never beeither wise or deep, but I shall be to you all I can. " "You do very much for me in those words alone, my darling. AsI said before, no one can tell what you may become if you developyour own nature naturally. " CHAPTER IV. WOMAN'S CHIEF RIGHT. It was late when Marian and her father parted, and each felt that anew era had begun in their lives. To the former it was like a deepreligious experience. She was awed and somewhat depressed, as wellas resolute and earnest. Life was no pleasure excursion to herfather. Questions involving the solemnity of danger, possibly death, occupied his mind. Yet it was not of either that he thought, butof the questions themselves. She saw that he was a large-hearted, large-brained man, who entered into the best spirit of his age, and found recreation in the best thought of the past, and she feltthat she was still but a little child beside him. "But I shall no longer be a silly child or a shallow, selfish, unfeeling girl. I know there is something better in my nature thanthis. Papa's words confirm what I have read but never thought ofmuch: the chief need of men who can do much or who amount to muchis the intelligent sympathy of women who understand and care forthem. Why, it was the inspiration of chivalry, even in the darkages. Well, Marian Vosburgh, if you can't excel a kitchen-maid, it would be better that you had never lived. " The sun was shining brightly when she wakened on the followingmorning, and when she came to breakfast their domestic handed hera note from her father, by which she was informed that he woulddine with her earlier than usual, and that they would take a saildown the bay. Brief as it was, it breathed an almost lover-like fondness andhappiness. She enjoyed her first exultant thrill at her sense ofpower as she comprehended that he had gone to his work that day astronger and more hopeful man. She went out to do her shopping, and was soon in a Broadway templeof fashion, but found that she was no longer a worshipper. A weekbefore the beautiful fabrics would have absorbed her mind and awakenedintense desires, for she had a passion for dress, and few knew howto make more of it than she. But a new and stronger passion wasawakening. She was made to feel at last that she had not only awoman's lovely form and features, but a woman's mind. Now she beganto dream of triumphs through the latter, and her growing thought washow to achieve them. Not that she was indifferent to her costume;it should be like the soldier's accoutrements; her mind the weapon. As is common with the young to whom any great impulse or new, deepexperience comes, she was absorbed by it, and could think of littleelse. She went over her father's words again and again, dwelling onthe last utterance, which had contained the truth uppermost in allthat he had said, --"Develop the best in your own nature naturally. " What was her own nature, her starting-point? Her introspectionwas not very reassuring. She felt that perhaps the most hopefulindication was her strong rebound from what she at last recognizedas mean and unworthy. She also had a little natural curiosity andvanity to see if her face was changing with changing motives. Wasthere such a difference between prettiness and beauty? She wasperfectly sure she would rather be beautiful than pretty. Her mirror revealed a perplexed young face, suggestinginterrogation-points. The day was ending as it had begun, with adissatisfaction as to the past, amounting almost to disgust, andwith fears, queries, and uncertainties concerning the future. Howshould she take up life again? How should she go on with it? More importunate still was the question, "What has the future instore for me and for those I love? Papa spoke of danger; and whenI think of his resolute face, I know that nothing in the line ofduty will daunt him. He said that it might not be kindness to leaveme in my old, blind, unthinking ignorance, --that a blow, shatteringeverything, might come, finding us all unprepared. Oh, why don'tmamma feel and see more? We have been just like comfortable passengerson a ship, while papa was facing we knew not what. I may not beof much use, but I feel now as if I wanted to be with him. To staybelow with scarcely any other motive than to have a good time, andthen to be paralyzed, helpless, when some shock of trouble comes, now seems silly and weak to the last degree. I am only too gladthat I came to my senses in time, for if anything should happen topapa, and I had to remember all my days that I had never been muchto him, and had left him to meet the stress of life and dangeralone, I am sure I should be wretched from self-reproach. " When he came at six o'clock, she met him eagerly, and almost herfirst words were, "Papa, there hasn't been any danger to-day?" "Oh, no; none at all; only humdrum work. You must not anticipatetrouble. Soldiers, you know, jest and laugh even when going intobattle, and they are all the better soldiers for the fact. No; Ihave given you a wrong impression. Nothing has been humdrum to-day. An acquaintance down town said: 'What's up, Vosburgh? Heard goodnews? Have our troops scored a point?' You see I was so brightenedup that he thought nothing but a national victory could account forthe improvement. Men are like armies, and are twice as effectivewhen well supported. " "The idea of my supporting you!" "To me it's a charming idea. Instead of coming back to a dismal, empty house, I find a blue-eyed lassie who will go with me todinner, and add sauce piquante to every dish. Come, I am not sucha dull, grave old fellow as you imagine. You shall see how gallantI can become under provocation. We must make the most of a coupleof hours, for that is all that I can give you. No sail to-night, asI had planned, for a government agent is coming on from Washingtonto see me, and I must be absent for at least an hour or two aftereight o'clock. You won't mope, will you? You have something toread? Has the day been very long and lonely? What have you beendoing and thinking about?" "When are you going to give me a chance to answer?" "Oh, I read your answer, partly at least, in your eyes. You canamplify later. Come, get ready for the street. Put on what youplease, so that you wear a smile. These are not times to worry overslight reverses as long as the vital points are safe. " The hour they passed at dinner gave Marian a new revelation ofher father. The quiet man proved true the words of Emerson, "Amongthose who enjoy his thought, he will regain his tongue. " At first he drew her out a little, and with his keen, quick insighthe understood her perplexity, her solicitude about him and herselfand the future, her resolute purpose to be a woman, and thedifficulties of seeing the way to the changes she desired. Insteadof replying directly to her words, he skilfully led their talk tothe events of the day, and contemporaneous history became romanceunder his version; the actors in the passing drama ceased to benames and officials, and were invested with human interest. Shewas made to see their motives, their hopes, fears, ambitions; sheopened her eyes in surprise at his knowledge of prominent people, their social status, relations, and family connection. A geniallight of human interest played over most of his words, yet now andthen they touched on the depths of tragedy; again he seemed to beindulging in sublimated gossip, and she saw the men and women whoposed before the public in their high stations revealed in theiractual daily life. She became so interested that at times she left her food untasted. "How can you know all this?" she exclaimed. "It is my business to know a great deal, " he replied. "Then naturalcuriosity leads me to learn more. The people of whom I have spokenare the animated pieces on the chess-board. In the tremendous gamethat we are playing, success depends largely on their strength, weakness, various traits, --in brief, their character. The stakethat I have in the game leads me to know and watch those who areexerting a positive influence. It is interesting to study the menand women who, in any period, made and shaped history, and to learnthe secrets of their success and failure. Is it not natural thatmen and women who are making history to-day--who in fact are shapingone's own history--should be objects of stronger attention? Now, asin the past, women exert a far greater influence on current eventsthan you would imagine. There are but few thrones of power behindwhich you will not find a woman. What I shall do or be during thecoming weeks and months depends upon some of the people I havesketched, free-handed, for you alone. You see the sphinx--for assuch I am regarded by many--opens his mouth freely to you. Can youguess some of my motives for this kind of talk?" "You have wanted to entertain me, papa, and you have succeeded. You should write romances, for you but touch the names one sees inthe papers and they become dramatic actors. " "I did want to entertain you and make a fair return for yoursociety; I wish to prove that I can be your companion as truly asyou can become mine; but I have aimed to do more. I wish you torealize how interesting the larger and higher world of activity is. Do not imagine that in becoming a woman, earnest and thoughtful, you are entering on an era of solemn platitudes. You are ratherpassing from a theatre of light comedy to a stage from whichShakespeare borrowed the whole gamut of human feeling, passion, and experience. I also wished to satisfy you that you have mindenough to become absorbed as soon as you begin to understand thesignificance of the play. After you have once become an intelligentspectator of real life you can no more go back to drawing-roomchit-chat, gossip, and flirtation than you can lay down Shakespeare's'Tempest' for a weak little parlor comedy. I am too shrewd a man, Marian, to try to disengage you from the past by exhortations andhomilies; and now that you have become my friend, I shall be toosincere with you to disguise my purposes or methods. I propose toco-operate frankly with you in your effort, for in this way I provemy faith in you and my respect for you. Soon you will find yourselfan actor in real life, as well as a spectator. " "I fear I have been one already, --a sorry one, too. It is possibleto do mischief without being very intelligent or deliberate. Youare making my future, so far as you are concerned, clearer thanI imagined it could be. You do interest me deeply. In one eveningyou make it evident how much I have lost in neglecting you--for Ihave neglected you, though not intentionally. Hereafter I shall beonly too proud if you will talk to me as you have done, giving meglimpses of your thoughts, your work, and especially your dangers, where there are any. Never deceive me in this respect, or leaveme in ignorance. Whatever may be the weaknesses of my nature, nowthat I have waked up, I am too proud a girl to receive all that Ido from your hands and then give almost my whole life and thoughtto others. I shall be too delighted if you are happier for mymeddling and dropping down upon you. I'll keep your secrets too, you see;" and she confirmed her words by an emphatic little nod. "You can talk to me about people, big and little, with whom youhave to do, just as serenely as if you were giving your confidenceto an oyster. "But, papa, I am confronted by a question of real life, just asdifficult for me as any that can perplex you. I can't treat thisquestion any more as I have done. I don't see my way at all. NowI am going to be as direct and straightforward as a man, and notbeat around the bush with any womanish finesse. There is a gentlemanin this city who, if he knew I was in town to-night, would call, andI might not be able to prevent him from making a formal proposal. He is a man whom I respect and like very much, and I fear I havebeen too encouraging, --not intentionally and deliberately you know, but thoughtlessly. He was the cleverest and the most entertainingof my friends, and always brought a breezy kind of excitement withhim. Don't you see, papa? That is what I lived for, pleasure andexcitement, and I don't believe that anything can be so excitingto a girl as to see a man yielding to her fascinations, whateverthey may be. It gives one a delicious sense of power. I shall befrank, too. I must be, for I want your advice. You men like power. History is full of the records of those who sold their own soulsfor it, and walked through blood and crime to reach it. I think itis just as natural for a woman to love power also, only now I seethat it is a cruel and vile thing to get it and use it merely foramusement. To me it was excitement. I don't like to think how itmay all end to a man like Fenton Lane, and I am so remorseful thatI am half inclined to sacrifice myself and make him as good a wifeas I can. " "Do you love him?" "No. I don't think I know what love is. When a mere girl I had afoolish little flame that went out with the first breath of ridicule. Since that time I have enjoyed gentlemen's society as naturallyas any other girl of our set, perhaps more keenly. Their talk andways are so different from those of girls! Then my love of powercame in, you see. The other girls were always talking about theirfriends and followers, and it was my pride to surpass them all. Iliked one better than another, of course, but was always as readyfor a new conquest as that old fool, 'Alexander the Little, 'who ran over the world and especially himself. What do you think, papa? Shall I ever see one who will make all the others appear asnothing? Or, would it be nobler to devote myself to a true, fineman, like Mr. Lane, no matter how I felt?" "God forbid! You had better stay at your mother's side till youare as old and wrinkled as Time himself. " "I am honestly glad to hear you say so. But what am I to do? Sooneror later I shall have to refuse Mr. Lane, and others too. " "Refuse them, then. He would be less than a man who would ask agirl to sacrifice herself for him. No, my dear, the most inalienableright of your womanhood is to love freely and give yourself whereyou love. This right is one of the issues of this war, --that thepoorest woman in this land may choose her own mate. Slavery is thecorner-stone of the Confederacy, wherein millions of women can begiven according to the will of masters. Should the South triumph, phases of the Old-World despotism would creep in with certainly, and in the end we should have alliances, not marriages, as is thecase so generally abroad. Now if a white American girl does notmake her own choice she is a weak fool. The law and public sentimentprotect her. If she will not choose wisely, she must suffer theconsequences, and only under the impulse of love can a true choicebe made. A girl must be sadly deficient in sense if she loves a weak, bad, disreputable man, or a vulgar, ignorant one. Such mesalliancesare more in seeming than in reality, for the girl herself is usuallynear in nature to what she chooses. There are few things that Iwould more earnestly guard you against than a loveless marriage. You would probably miss the sweetest happiness of life, and youwould scarcely escape one of its worst miseries. " "That settles it, then. I am going to choose for myself, --to staywith you and mamma, and to continue sending you my bills indefinitely. " "They will be love letters, now. " "Very dear ones, you will think sometimes. But truly, papa, you mustnot let me spend more than you can afford. You should be frank onthis point also, when you know I do not wish to be inconsiderate. The question still remains, What am I to do with Mr. Lane?" "Now I shall throw you on your own resources. I believe your woman'stact can manage this question better than my reason; only, if youdon't love him and do not think you can, be sure to refuse him. I have nothing against Mr. Lane, and approve of what I know abouthim; but I am not eager to have a rival, or to lose what I haveso recently gained. Nevertheless, I know that when the true knightcomes through the wood, my sleeping beauty will have anotherawakening, compared with which this one will seem slight indeed. Then, as a matter of course, I will quietly take my place as 'secondfiddle' in the harmony of your life. But no discordant first fiddle, if you please; and love alone can attune its strings. My time isup, and, if I don't return early, go to bed, so that mamma may notsay you are the worse for your days in town. This visit has mademe wish for many others. " "You shall have them, for, as Shakespeare says, your wish 'jumps'with mine. " CHAPTER V. "BE HOPEFUL, THAT I MAY HOPE. " LEFT to herself Marian soon threw down the book she tried to read, and thought grew busy with her father's later words. Was there thena knight--a man--somewhere in the world, so unknown to her thatshe would pass him in the street without the slightest premonitionthat he was the arbiter of her destiny? Was there some one, towhom imagination could scarcely give shadowy outline, so real andstrong that he could look a new life into her soul, set all hernerves tingling, and her blood coursing in mad torrents throughher veins? Was there a stranger, whom now she would sweep with acasual glance, who still had the power to subdue her proud maidenhood, overcome the reserve which seemed to reach as high as heaven, andlay a gentle yet resistless grasp, not only on her sacred form, buton her very soul? Even the thought made her tremble with a vagueyet delicious dread. Then she sprung to her feet and threw back herhead proudly as she uttered aloud the words, "If this can ever betrue, my power shall be equal to his. " A moment later she was evoking half-exultant chords from the piano. These soon grew low and dreamy, and the girl said softly to herself:"I have lived more in two days than in months of the past. Trulyreal life is better than a sham, shallow existence. " The door-bell rang, and she started to her feet. "Who can know Iam in town?" she queried. Fenton Lane entered with extended hand and the words: "I was passingand knew I could not be mistaken in your touch. Your presence wasrevealed by the music as unmistakably as if I had met you on thestreet. Am I an intruder? Please don't order me away under an houror two. " "Indeed, Mr. Lane, truth compels me to say that I am here in deepretirement. I have been contemplating a convent. " "May I ask your motive?" "To repent of my sins. " "You would have to confess at a convent. Why not imagine me avenerable father, dozing after a good dinner, and make your firstessay at the confessional?" "You tax my imagination too greatly. So I should have to confess;therefore no convent for me. " "Of course not. I should protest against it at the very altar, andin the teeth of the Pope himself. Can't you repent of your sins insome other way?" "I suppose I shall have to. " "They would be a queer lot of little peccadilloes. I should liketo set them all under a microscope. " "I would rather that your glass should be a goblet brimmed fromLethe. " "There is no Lethe for me, Miss Marian, so far as you are concerned. " "Come, tell me the news from the seat of war, " she said, abruptly. "This luxurious arm-chair is not a seat of war. " "Papa has been telling me how Southern girls make all the menenlist. " "I'll enlist to-morrow, if you ask me to. " "Oh, no. You might be shot, and then you would haunt me all mylife. " "May I not haunt you anyway?" said Lane, resolutely, for he haddetermined not to let this opportunity pass. She was alone, and hewould confirm the hope which her manner for months had inspired. "Come, Miss Marian, " he continued, springing to his feet andapproaching her side, his dark eyes full of fire and entreaty; "youcannot have misunderstood me. You know that while not a soldier Iam also not a carpet-knight and have not idled in ladies' bowers. I have worked hard and dreamed of you. I am willing to do all thata man can to win you. Cowardice has not kept me from the war, butyou. If it would please you I would put on the blue and shouldera musket to-morrow. If you will permit more discretion and time, I can soon obtain a commission as an officer. But before I fightother battles, I wish to win the supreme victory of my life. Whateverorders I may take from others, you shall ever be my superior officer. You have seen this a long time; a woman of your mind could not helpit. I have tried to hope with all a lover's fondness that you gaveme glimpses of your heart also, but of this nothing would satisfya man of my nature but absolute assurance. " He stood proudly yet humbly before her, speaking with strong, impassioned, fluent utterance, for he was a man who had both thepower and the habit of expression. She listened with something like dismay. Her heart, instead ofkindling, grew only more heavy and remorseful. Her whole natureshrunk, while pity and compunction wrung tears from her eyes. Thiswas real life in very truth. Here was a man ready to give up safe, luxurious existence, a career already successful, and face deathfor her. She knew him well enough to be sure that if he could wearher colors he would march away with the first regiment that wouldreceive him. He was not a man to be influenced by little things, but yielded absolutely to the supreme impulses of his life. Ifshe said the word, he would make good his promise with chivalrous, straightforward promptness, facing death, and all that death couldthen mean to him, with a light, half-jaunty courage characteristicof the ideal soldier. She had a secret wonder at herself that shecould know all this and yet be so vividly conscious that what heasked could never be. Her womanly pity said yes; her woman's heartsaid no. He was eager to take her in his arms, to place the kiss oflife-long loyalty on her lips; but in her very soul she felt thatit would be almost sacrilege for him to touch her; since the divineimpulse to yield, without which there can be no divine sanction, was absent. She listened, not as a confused, frightened girl, while he spokethat which she had guessed before. Other men had sued, althoughnone had spoken so eloquently or backed their words by such weightof character. Her trouble, her deep perplexity, was not due to amere declaration, but was caused by her inability to answer him. The conventional words which she would have spoken a few days beforedied on her lips. They would be an insult to this earnest man, who had the right to hope for something better. What was scarcelyworse--for there are few emergencies in which egotism is whollylost--she would appear at once to him and to herself in an odiouslight. Her course would be well characterized by the Irish servant'slover, for here was a man who from the very fineness of his nature, if wronged, might easily go to the devil. His words echoed her thought, for her hesitation and the visibledistress on her face led him to exclaim, in a voice tense withsomething like agony: "O Marian, since you hesitate, hesitatelonger. Think well before you mar--nay, spoil--my life. For God'ssake don't put me off with some of the sham conventionalities currentwith society girls. I could stand anything better than that. Iam in earnest; I have always been in earnest; and I saw from thefirst, through all your light, graceful disguises, that you were nota shallow, brainless, heartless creature, --that a noble woman waswaiting to be wakened in your nature. Give me time; give yourselftime. This is not a little affair that can be rounded off accordingto the present code of etiquette; it is a matter of life or deathto me. Be more merciful than a rebel bullet. " She buried her face in her hands and sobbed helplessly. He was capable of feeling unknown depths of tenderness, but therewas little softness in his nature. As he looked down upon her, hisface grew rigid and stern. In her sobs he read his answer, --theunwillingness, probably the inability, of her heart to respond tohis, --and he grew bitter as he thought of the past. With the cold, quiet tones of one too strong, controlled, andwell-bred to give way violently to his intense anger, he said:"This is a different result from what you led me to expect. Allyour smiles end in these unavailing tears. Why did you smile sosweetly after you understood me, since you had nothing better instore? I was giving you the homage, the choice of my whole manhood, and you knew it. What were you giving me? Why did your eyes drawout my heart and soul? Do you think that such a man as I can existwithout heart and soul? Did you class me with Strahan, who cantake a refusal as he would lose a game of whist? No, you did not. I saw in your very eyes a true estimate of Strahan and all hiskind. Was it your purpose to win a genuine triumph over a man whocared nothing for other women? Why then don't you enjoy it? Youcould not ask for anything more complete. " "Trample on me--I deserve it, " she faltered. After a moment's pause, he resumed: "I have no wish to trampleon you. I came here with as much loyalty and homage as ever a manbrought to a woman in any age. I have offered you any test of mylove and truth that you might ask. What more could a man do? As soonas I knew what you were to me, I sought your father's permissionto win you, and I told you my secret in every tone and glance. Ifyour whole nature shrunk from me, as I see it does, you could havetold me the truth months since, and I should have gone away honoringyou as a true-hearted, honest girl, who would scorn the thought ofdeceiving and misleading an earnest man. You knew I did not belongto the male-flirt genus. When a man from some sacred impulse of hisnature would give his very life to make a woman happy, is it toomuch to ask that she should not deliberately, and for mere amusement, wreck his life? If she does not want his priceless gift, a womanwith your tact could have revealed the truth by one glance, by oneinflection of a tone. Not that I should have been discouraged soeasily, but I should have accepted an unspoken negative long sincewith absolute respect. But now--" and he made a gesture eloquentwith protest and despair. "But now, " she said, wearily, "I see it all in the light in whichyou put it. Be content; you have spoiled my life as truly as I haveyours. " "Yes, for this evening. There will be only one less in yourdrawing-room when you return. " "Very well, " she replied, quietly. Her eyes were dry and hot now, and he could almost see the dark lines deepening under them, andthe increasing pallor of her face. "I have only this to say. I nowfeel that your words are like blows, and they are given to one whois not resisting, who is prostrate;" and she rose as if to indicatethat their interview should end. He looked at her uneasily as she stood before him, with her pallidface averted, and every line of her drooping form suggesting defeatrather than triumph; yes, far more than defeat--the apathetichopelessness of one who feels himself mortally wounded. "Will you please tell me just what you mean when you say I havespoiled your life?" he asked. "How should I know? How should anyone know till he has lived outits bitterness? What do you mean by the words? Perhaps you willremember hereafter that your language has been inconsistent as wellas merciless. You said I was neither brainless nor heartless; thenadded that you had spoiled my life merely for one evening. Butthere is no use in trying to defend myself: I should have littleto urge except thoughtlessness, custom, the absence of evilintention, --other words should prove myself a fool, to avoid beinga criminal. Go on and spoil your life; you seem to be wholly bentupon it. Face rebel bullets or do some other reckless thing. Ionly wish to give you the solace of knowing that you have made meas miserable as a girl can be, and that too at a moment when I wasawakening to better things. But I am wasting your valuable time. You believe in your heart that Mr. Strahan can console me with hisgossip to-morrow evening, whatever happens. " "Great God! what am I to believe?" She turned slowly towards him and said, gravely: "Do not use thatname, Mr. Lane. He recognizes the possibility of good in the weakestand most unworthy of His creatures. He never denounces those whoadmit their sin and would turn from it. " He sprung to her side and took her hand. "Look at me, " he pleaded. His face was so lined and eloquent with suffering that her own lipquivered. "Mr. Lane, " she said, "I have wronged you. I am very sorry now. I've been sorry ever since I began to think--since you last called. I wish you could forgive me. I think it would be better for us bothif you could forgive me. " He sunk into a chair and burying his face in his hands groaned aloud;then, in bitter soliloquy, said: "O God! I was right--I knew I wasnot deceived. She is just the woman I believed her to be. Oh, thisis worse than death!" No tears came into his eyes, but a convulsive shudder ran throughhis frame like that of a man who recoils from the worst blow offate. "Reproach--strike me, even, " she cried. "Anything is better thanthis. Oh, that I could--but how can I? Oh, what an unutterable foolI have been! If your love is so strong, it should also be a littlegenerous. As a woman I appeal to you. " He rose at once and said: "Forgive me; I fear that I have beenalmost insane, --that I have much to atone for. " "O Mr. Lane, I entreat you to forgive me. I did admire you; I wasproud of your preference, --proud that one so highly thought ofand coveted by others should single me out. I never dreamt thatmy vanity and thoughtlessness could lead to this. If you had beenill or in trouble, you would have had my honest sympathy, and fewcould have sacrificed more to aid you. I never harbored one thoughtof cold-blooded malice. Why must I be punished as if I had committeda deliberate crime? If I am the girl you believe me to be, whatgreater punishment could I have than to know that I had harmed aman like you? It seems to me that if I loved any one I could sufferfor him and help him, without asking anything in return. I couldgive you honest friendship, and take heart-felt delight in everymanly success that you achieved. As a weak, faulty girl, who yetwishes to be a true woman, I appeal to you. Be strong, that I maybe strong; be hopeful, that I may hope; be all that you can be, that I may not be disheartened on the very threshold of the betterlife I had chosen. " He took her hand, and said: "I am not unresponsive to your words. I feel their full force, and hope to prove that I do; but there isa tenacity in my nature that I cannot overcome. You said, 'if youloved'--do you not love any one?" "No. You are more to me--twice more--than any man except my father. " "Then, think well. Do not answer me now, unless you must. Is therenot a chance for me? I am not a shadow of a man, Marian. I fearI have proved too well how strong and concentrated my nature is. There is nothing I would not do or dare--" "No, Mr. Lane; no, " she interrupted, shaking her head sadly, "I willnever consciously mislead a man again a single moment. I scarcelyknow what love is; I may never know; but until my heart promptsme, I shall never give the faintest hope or encouragement of thisnature. I have been taught the evil of it too bitterly. " "And I have been your remorseless teacher, and thus perhaps havedestroyed my one chance. " "You are wrong. I now see that your words were natural to one likeyou, and they were unjust only because I was not deliberate. Mr. Lane, let me be your friend. I could give you almost a sister'slove; I could be so proud of you!" "There, " he said. "You have triumphed after all. I pledge you myword--all the manhood I possess--I will do whatever you ask. " She took his hand in both her own with a look of gratitude henever forgot, and spoke gladly: "Now you change everything. Oh, Iam so glad you did not go away before! What a sad, sleepless nightI should have had, and sad to-morrows stretching on indefinitely! Iask very much, very much indeed, --that you make the most and bestof yourself. Then I can try to do the same. It will be harderfor you than for me. You bring me more hope than sadness; I havegiven you more sadness than hope. Yet I have absolute faith in youbecause of what papa said to me last night. I had asked him how Icould cease to be what I was, be different, you know, and he said, 'Develop the best in your own nature naturally. ' If you will dothis I shall have no fears. " "Yet I have been positively brutal to you to-night. " "No man can be so strong as you are and be trifled with. I understandthat now, Mr. Lane. You had no sentimentality to be touched, andmy tears did not move you in the least until you believed in myhonest contrition. " "I have revealed to you one of my weaknesses. I am rarely angry, but when I am, my passion, after it is over, frightens me. Marian, you do forgive me in the very depths of your heart?" "I do indeed, --that is, if I have anything to forgive under thecircumstances. " "Poor little girl! how pale you are! I fear you are ill. " "I shall soon be better, --better all my life for your forgivenessand promise. " "Thank God that we are parting in this manner, " he said. "I don'tlike to think of what might have happened, for I was in the devil'sown mood. Marian, if you make good the words you have spokento-night, if you become the woman you can be, you will have a powerpossessed by few. It was not your beauty merely that fascinated me, but a certain individuality, --something all your own, which givesyou an influence apparently absolute. But I shall speak no morein this strain. I shall try to be as true a friend as I am capableof becoming, although an absent one. I must prove myself by deeds, not words, however. May I write to you sometimes? I will directmy letters under the care of your father, and you may show them tohim or your mother, as you wish. " "Certainly you may, and you will be my first and only gentlemancorrespondent. After what has passed between us, it would beprudery to refuse. Moreover, I wish to hear often of your welfare. Never for a moment will my warm interest cease, and you can see mewhenever you wish. I have one more thing to ask, --please take upyour old life to-morrow, just where you left off. Do nothing hastily, or from impulse. Remember you have promised to make the most andbest of yourself, and that requires you to give conscience andreason fair hearing. Will you also promise this?" "Anything you asked, I said. " "Then good-by. Never doubt my friendship, as I shall not doubtyours. " Her hand ached from the pressure of his, but the pain was thusdrawn from her heart. CHAPTER VI. A SCHEME OF LIFE. MARIAN waited for her father's return, having been much too deeplyexcited for the speedy advent of quiet sleep. When at last he cameshe told him everything. As she described the first part of theinterview his brow darkened, but his face softened as she drewtoward the close. When she ceased he said:-- "Don't you see I was right in saying that your own tact would guideyou better than my reason? If I, instead of your own nature, haddirected you, we should have made an awful mess of it. Now let methink a moment. This young fellow has suggested an idea to me, --ageneral line of action which I think you can carry out. There isnothing like a good definite plan, --not cast-iron, you know, butflexible and modified by circumstances as you go along, yet soclear and defined as to give you something to aim at. Confound it, that's what's the matter with our military authorities. If McClellanis a ditch-digger let them put a general in command; or, if heis a general, give him what he wants and let him alone. There isno head, no plan. I confess, however, that just now I am chieflyinterested in your campaigns, which, after all, stand the best chanceof bringing about union, in spite of your negative mood manifestedto-night. Nature will prove too strong for you, and some day--soonprobably--you will conquer, only to surrender yourself. Be that asit may, the plan I suggest need not be interfered with. Be patient. I'm only following the tactics in vogue, --taking the longest wayaround to the point to be attacked. Lane said that if you carriedout your present principle of action you would have a power possessedby few. I think he is right. I'm not flattering you. Little powerof any kind can co-exist with vanity. The secret of your fascinationis chiefly in your individuality. There are other girls more beautifuland accomplished who have not a tithe of it. Now and then a womanis peculiarly gifted with the power to influence men, --strong men, too. You had this potency in no slight degree when neither yourheart nor your brain was very active. You will find that it willincrease with time, and if you are wise it will be greater whenyou are sixty than at present. If you avoid the Scylla of vanityon the one hand, and the Charybdis of selfishness on the other, andif the sympathies of your heart keep pace with a cultivated mind, you will steadily grow in social influence. I believe it for thisreason: A weak girl would have been sentimental with Lane, would haveyielded temporarily, either to his entreaty or to his anger, onlyto disappoint him in the end, or else would have been conventionalin her refusal and so sent him to the bad, probably. You recognizedjust what you could be to him, and had the skill--nature, rather, for all was unpremeditated--to obtain an influence by which youcan incite him to a better manhood and a greater success, perhaps, than if he were your accepted lover. Forgive this long preamble:I am thinking aloud and feeling my way, as it were. What did youask him to promise? Why, to make the most and best of himself. Why not let this sentence suggest the social scheme of your life?Drop fellows who have neither brains nor heart, --no good mettlein them, --and so far as you have influence strive to inspire theothers to make the most and best of themselves. You would not findthe kitchen-maid a rival on this plan of life; nor indeed, I regretto say, many of your natural associates. Outwardly your life willappear much the same, but your motive will change everything, andflow through all your action like a mountain spring, rendering itimpossible for you to poison any life. " "O papa, the very possibility of what you suggest makes life appearbeautiful. The idea of a convent!" "Convents are the final triumph of idiocy. If bad women could beshut up and made to say prayers most of the time, no harm at leastwould be done, --the good, problematical; but to immure a woman ofsweet, natural, God-bestowed impulses is the devil's worst practicaljoke in this world. Come, little girl, it's late. Think over thescheme; try it as you have a chance; use your power to incite men tomake the most and best of themselves. This is better than levyingyour little tribute of flattery and attention, like other belles, --aphase of life as common as cobble-stones and as old as vanity. Forinstance, you have an artist among your friends. Possibly you canmake him a better artist and a better fellow in every way. Drop allmuffs and sticks; don't waste yourself on them. Have considerablecharity for some of the wild fellows, none for their folly, and fromthe start tolerate no tendencies toward sentimentality. You willfind that the men who admire girls bent on making eyes rather thanmaking men will soon disappear. Sensible fellows won't misunderstandyou, even though prompted to more than friendship; and you will havea circle of friends of which any woman might be proud. Of courseyou will find at times that unspoken negatives will not satisfy;but if a woman has tact, good sense, and sincerity, her position isimpregnable. As long as she is not inclined to love a man herself, she can, by a mere glance, not only define her position, butdefend it. By simple dignity and reserve she can say to all, 'Thusfar and no farther. ' If, without encouragement, any one seeks tobreak through this barrier he meets a quiet negative which he mustrespect, and in his heart does respect. Now, little girl, to sum upyour visit, with its long talks and their dramatic and unexpectedillustration, I see nothing to prevent you from going forward andmaking the best and most of your life according to nature and truth. You have a good start, and a rather better chance than falls tothe lot of the majority. " "Truly, " said Marian, thoughtfully, "we don't appear to grow oldand change by time so much as by what happens, --by what we thinkand feel. Everything appears changed, including you and myself. " "It's more in appearance than in reality. You will find the impetusof your old life so strong that it will be hard even to change thedirection of the current. You will be much the same outwardly, asI said before. The stream will flow through the same channel ofcharacteristic traits and habits. The vital change must be in thestream itself, --the motive from which life springs. " How true her father's words seemed on the following evening afterher return! Her mother, as she sat down, to their dainty littledinner, looked as if her serenity had been undisturbed by a singleperplexing thought during the past few days. There was the sameelegant, yet rather youthful costume for a lady of her years; thesame smiling face, not yet so full in its outline as to have lostall its girlish beauty. It was marred by few evidences of care andtrouble, nor was it spiritualized by thought or deep experience. Marian observed her closely, not with any disposition towards coldor conscious criticism, but in order that she might better understandthe conditions of her own life. She also had a wakening curiosityto know just what her mother was to her father and he to her. Thehope was forming that she could make them more to each other. Shehad too much tact to believe that this could be done by generalexhortations. If anything was to be accomplished it must be bymethods so fine and unobtrusive as to be scarcely recognized. Her father's inner life had been a revelation to her, and she wasled to query: "Why does not mamma understand it? CAN she understandit?" Therefore she listened attentively to the details of what hadhappened in her absence. She waited in vain for any searching andintelligent questions concerning the absent husband. Beyond thathe was well, and that everything about the house was just as shehad left it, Mrs. Vosburgh appeared to have no interest. She wasvoluble over little household affairs, the novel that just thenabsorbed her, and especially the callers and their chagrin atfinding the young girl absent. "Only the millionnaire widower remained any length of time whenlearning that you were away, " said the lady, "and he spent most ofthe evening with me. I assure you he is a very nice, entertainingold fellow. " "How did he entertain you? What did he talk about?" "Let me remember. Now I think of it, what didn't he talk about? Heis one of the most agreeable gossips I ever met, --knows everybodyand everything. He has at his finger-ends the history of all whowere belles in my time, and" (complacently) "I find that few havedone better than I, while some, with all their opportunities, chosevery crooked sticks. " "You are right, mamma. It seems to me that neither of us halfappreciates papa. He works right on so quietly and steadily, andyet he is not a machine, but a man. " "Oh, I appreciate him. Nine out of ten that he might have marriedwould have made him no end of trouble. I don't make him any. Well, after talking about the people we used to know, Mr. Lanniere begana tirade against the times and the war, which he says have cost hima hundred thousand dollars; but he took care in a quiet way to letme know that he has a good many hundred thousands left. I declare, Marian, you might do a great deal worse. " "Do you not think I might do a great deal better?" the young girlasked, with a frown. "I have no doubt you think so. Girls will be romantic. I was, myself; but as one goes on in life one finds that a million, moreor less, is a very comfortable fact. Mr. Lanniere has a fine housein town, but he's a great traveller, and an habitue of the besthotels of this country and Europe. You could see the world withhim on its golden side. " "Well, mamma, I want a man, --not an habitue. What's more, I mustbe in love with the man, or he won't stand the ghost of a chance. So you see the prospects are that you will have me on your handsindefinitely. Mr. Lanniere, indeed! What should I be but a part ofhis possessions, --another expensive luxury in his luxurious life?I want a man like papa, --earnest, large-brained, and large-hearted, --who, instead of inveighing against the times, is absorbed in the vitalquestions of the day, and is doing his part to solve them rightly. I would like to take Mr. Lanniere into a military hospital orcemetery, and show him what the war has cost other men. " "Why, Marian, how you talk!" "I wish I could make you know how I feel. It seems to me that onehas only to think a little and look around in order to feel deeply. I read of an awful battle while coming up in the cars. We havebeen promised, all the spring, that Richmond would be taken, thewar ended, and all go on serenely again; but it doesn't look likeit. " "What's the use of women distressing themselves with such things?"said Mrs. Vosburgh, irritably. "I can't bear to think of war andits horrors, except as they give spice to a story. Our whole troubleis a big political squabble, and you know I detest politics. Itis just as Mr. Lanniere says, --if our people had only let slaveryalone all would have gone on veil. The leaders on both sides willfind out before the summer is over that they have gone too farand fast, and they had better settle their differences with wordsrather than blows. We shall all be shaking hands ana making upbefore Christmas. " "Papa doesn't think so. " "Your father is a German at heart. He has the sense to be practicalabout every-day affairs and enjoy a good dinner, but he amuseshimself with cloudy speculations and ideals and vast questionsabout the welfare of the world, or the 'trend of the centuries, 'as he said one day to me. I always try to laugh him out of suchvague nonsense. Has he been talking to you about the 'trend of thecenturies'?" "No, mamma, he has not, " replied Marian, gravely; "but if he doesI shall try to understand what he means and be interested. I knowthat papa feels deeply about the war, and means to take the mosteffective part in it that he can, and that he does not think itwill end so easily as you believe. These facts make me feel anxious, for I know how resolute papa is. " "He has no right to take any risks, " said the lady, emphatically. "He surely has the same right that other men have. " "Oh, well, " concluded Mrs. Vosburgh, with a shrug, "there is no usein borrowing trouble. When it comes to acting, instead of dreamingand speculating on vast, misty questions, I can always talk yourfather into good sense. That is the best thing about him, --he iswell-balanced, in spite of his tendency to theories. When I showhim that a thing is quixotic he laughs, shrugs his shoulders, andgood-naturedly goes on in the even tenor of his way. It was theluckiest thing in the world for him when he married me, for I soonlearned his weak points, and have ever guarded him against them. As a result he has had a quiet, prosperous career. If he wishes toserve the government in some civilian capacity, and is well paidfor it, why shouldn't he? But I would never hear of his going tothe front, fighting, and marching in Virginia mud and swamps. Ifhe ever breathes such a thought to you, I hope you will aid me inshowing him how cruel and preposterous it is. " Marian sighed, as she thought: "I now begin to see how well papaunderstands mamma, but has she any gauge by which to measure him?I fear he has found his home lonely, in spite of good dinners. " "Come, my dear, " resumed Mrs. Vosburgh, "we are lingering too long. Some of your friends may be calling soon, although I said I didnot know whether you would be at home to-night or not. Mr. Lannierewill be very likely to come, for I am satisfied that he has seriousintentions. What's more, you might do worse, --a great deal worse. " "Three times you have said that, mamma, and I don't like it, " saidMarian, a little indignantly. "Of course I might do worse; I mightkill him, and I should be tempted to if I married him. You knowthat I do not care for him, and he knows it, too. Indeed, I scarcelyrespect him. You don't realize what you are saying, for you wouldnot have me act from purely mercenary motives?" "Oh, certainly not; but Mr. Lanniere is not a monster or a decrepitcentenarian. He is still in his prime, and is a very agreeable andaccomplished man of the world. He is well-connected, moves in thebest society, and could give his wife everything. " "He couldn't give me happiness, and he would spoil my life. " "Oh well, if you feel so, there is nothing more to be said. I cantell you, though, that multitudes of girls would be glad of yourchance; but, like so many young people, you have romantic ideas, and do not appreciate the fact that happiness results chiefly fromthe conditions of our lot, and that we soon learn to have plentyof affection for those who make them all we could desire;" and shetouched a bell for the waitress, who had been temporarily dismissed. The girl came in with a faint smile on her face. "Has she beenlistening?" thought Marian. "That creature, then, with her vain, pretty, yet vulgar face, is the type of what I was. She has beenlighting the drawing-room for me to do what she proposes to dolater in the evening. She looks just the same. Mamma is just thesame. Callers will come just the same. How unchanged all is, aspapa said it would be! I fear much may be unchangeable. " She soon left the dining-room for the parlor, her dainty, merrylittle campaigning-ground. What should be its future record? Couldshe carry out the scheme of life which her father had suggested?"Well, " she concluded, with an ominous flash in her eyes at her fairreflection in the mirror, "whether I can incite any one to betterthings or not, I can at least do some freezing out. That gossipy, selfish old Mr. Lanniere must take his million to some other market. I have no room in my life for him. Neither do I dote on the futureacquaintance of Mr. Strahan. I shall put him on probation. If mendon't want my society and regard on the new conditions, they canstay away; if they persist in coming, they must do something finerand be something finer than in the past. The friendship of one manlike Fenton Lane is worth more than the attention of a wildernessof muffs and sticks, as papa calls them. What I fear is that I shallappear goody-goody, and that would disgust every one, includingmyself. " CHAPTER VII. SURPRISES. MR. Lanniere evidently had serious intentions, for he cameunfashionably early. He fairly beamed on the young girl when hefound her at home. Indeed, as she stood before him in her radiantyouth, which her evening costume enhanced with a fine taste quicklyrecognized by his practised eyes, he very justly regarded her asbetter than anything which his million had purchased hitherto. Itmight easily be imagined that he had added a little to the couleurde rose of the future by an extra glass of Burgundy, for he positivelyappeared to exude an atmosphere of affluence, complacency, andgracious intention. The quick-witted girl detected at once hisKing-Cophetua air, and she was more amused than embarrassed. Thenthe eager face of Fenton Lane arose in her fancy, and she heardhis words, "I would shoulder a musket and march away to-morrow ifyou bade me!" How insignificant was all that this man could offer, as compared with the boundless, self-sacrificing love of the other, before whom her heart bowed in sincere homage if nothing more! Whatwas this man's offer but an expression of selfishness? And whatcould she ever be but an accessory of his Burgundy? Indeed, as hiseyes, humid from wine, gloated upon her, and he was phrasing hiswell-bred social platitudes and compliments, quite oblivious ofthe fact that HER eyes were taking on the blue of a winter sky, her cheeks began to grow a little hot with indignation and shame. He knew that she did not love him, that naturally she could not, and that there had been nothing in their past relations to inspireeven gratitude and respect towards him. In truth, his only efforthad been to show his preference and to indicate his wishes. Whatthen could his offer mean but the expectation that she would takehim as a good bargain, and, like any well-bred woman of the world, comply with all its conditions? Had she given him the impression thatshe could do this? While the possibility made her self-reproachful, she was conscious of rising resentment towards him who was socomplacently assuming that she was for sale. "Indeed, Miss Vosburgh, " was the conclusion of his rather longpreliminaries, "you must not run away soon again. June days maybe charming under any circumstances, but your absence certainlyinsures dull June evenings. " "You are burdening your conscience without deceiving me, " the younggirl replied, demurely, "and should not so wrong yourself. Mammasaid that you were very entertaining, and that last evening was adelightful one. It could scarcely be otherwise. It is natural thatpeople of the same age should be congenial. I will call mamma atonce. " "I beg you will not, --at least not just yet. I have something tosay to which I trust you will listen kindly and favorably. Do youthink me so very old?" "No older than you have a perfect right to be, Mr. Lanniere, " saidthe girl, laughing. "I can think of no reason for your reproachfultone. " "Let me give you one then. Your opinions are of immense importanceto me. " "Truly, Mr. Lanniere, this is strange beyond measure, especiallyas I am too young to have formed many opinions. " "That fact only increases my admiration and regard One must reachmy years in order to appreciate truly the dewy freshness of youth. The world is a terra incognita to you yet, and your opinions oflife are still to be formed. Let me give you a chance to see theworld from lofty, sunny elevations. " "I am too recently from my geography not to remember that whileelevations may be sunny they are very cold, " was the reply, witha charming little shiver. "Mont Blanc has too much perspective. " "Do not jest with me or misunderstand me, Miss Vosburgh, " he said, impressively. "There is a happy mean in all things. " "Yes, Mr. Lanniere, and the girl who means to be happy should takecare to discover it. " "May it not be discovered for her by one who is better acquaintedwith life? In woman's experience is not happiness more oftenthrust upon her than achieved? I, who know the world and the richpleasures and triumphs it affords to one who, in the military phraseof the day, is well supported, can offer you a great deal, --morethan most men, I assure you. " "Why, Mr. Lanniere, " said the young girl, looking at him withdemure surprise, "I am perfectly contented and happy. No ambitionfor triumphs is consuming me. What triumphs? As for pleasure, eachday brings all and more than I deserve. Young as one may be, onecan scarcely act without a motive. " "Then I am personally nothing to you?" he said stiffly, and rising. "Pardon me, Mr. Lanniere. I hope my simple directness may not appearchildish, but it seems to me that I have met your suggestions withnatural answers; What should you be to me but an agreeable friendof mamma's?" He understood her fence perfectly, and was aware that the absenceof a mercenary spirit on her part made his suit appear almostridiculous. If her clear young eyes would not see him through agolden halo, but only as a man and a possible mate, what could hebe to her? Even gold-fed egotism could not blind him to the truththat she was looking at HIM, and that the thought of barteringherself for a little more of what she had to her heart's contentalready was not even considered. There was distressing keenness inthe suggestion that, not wanting the extraneous things he offered, no motive was left. He was scarcely capable of suspecting herindignation that he should deem her capable of sacrificing her fairyoung girlhood for greater wealth and luxury, even had she covetedthem, --an indignation enhanced by her new impulses. The triumphs, happiness, and power which she now was bent on achieving couldnever be won under the dense shade of his opulent selfishness. Heembodied all that was inimical to her hopes and plans, all that wasopposed to the motives and inspiration received from her father, and she looked at him with unamiable eyes. While he saw this to some extent, he was unaccustomed to denial byothers or by himself. She was alluringly beautiful, as she stoodbefore him, --all the more valued because she valued herself sohighly, all the more coveted because superior to the sordid motivesupon which even he had counted as the chief allies in his suit. In the intense longing of a self-indulgent nature he broke out, seizing her hand as he spoke: "O Miss Marian, do not deny me. I know I could make you happy. I would give you everything. Yourslightest wish should be law. I would be your slave. " "I do not wish a slave, " she replied, freezingly, withdrawing herhand. "I am content, as I told you; but were I compelled to makea choice it should be in favor of a man to whom I could look up, and whom I could aid in manly work. I shall not make a choice untilcompelled to by my heart. " "If your heart is still your own, give me a chance to win it, "resumed the suitor, seeking vainly to take her hand again. "I amin my prime, and can do more than most men. I will put my wealthat your disposal, engage in noble charities, patriotic--" This interview had been so absorbing as to make them oblivious ofthe fact that another visitor had been admitted to the hall. Hearingvoices in the drawing-room, Mr. Strahan entered, and now stood justbehind Mr. Lanniere, with an expression in which dismay, amusement, and embarrassment were so comically blended that Marian, who firstsaw him, had to cover her face with her handkerchief to hide hersense of the ludicrous. "Pardon me, " said the inopportune new-comer, "I--I--" "Maledictions on you!" exclaimed the goaded millionnaire, nowenraged beyond self-control, and confronting the young fellow withglaring, bloodshot eyes. This greeting put Strahan entirely at his ease, and a glimpse ofMarian's mirth had its influence also. She had turned instantlyaway, and gone to the farther side of the apartment. "Come now, Mr. Lanniere, " he said, with an assumption of muchdignity; "there is scant courtesy in your greeting, and withoutreason. I have the honor of Miss Vosburgh's acquaintance as trulyas yourself. This is her parlor, and she alone has the right toindicate that I am unwelcome. I shall demand no apologies here andnow, but I shall demand them. I may appear very young--" "Yes, you do; very young. I should think that ears like yours mighthave--" And then the older man paused, conscious that the violenceof his anger was carrying him too far. Strahan struck a nonchalant attitude, as he coolly remarked: "Myvenerable friend, your passion is unbecoming to your years. MissVosburgh, I humbly ask your pardon that my ears were not long enoughto catch the purport of this interview. I am not in the habit oflistening at a lady's door before I enter. My arrival at a momentso awkward for me was my misfortune. I discovered nothing to yourdiscredit, Mr. Lanniere. Indeed, your appreciation of Miss Vosburghis the most creditable thing I know about you, --far more so thanyour insults because I merely entered the door to which I was shownby the maid who admitted me. Miss Vosburgh, with your permissionI will now depart, in the hope that you will forgive the annoyance--" "I cannot give you my permission under the circumstances, Mr. Strahan. You have committed no offence against me, or Mr. Lanniere, either, as he will admit after a little thought. Let us regard thewhole matter as one of those awkward little affairs over which goodbreeding can speedily triumph. Sit down, and I will call mamma. " "Pardon me, Miss Vosburgh, " said Mr. Lanniere, in a choking voice, for he could not fail to note the merriment which the mercurialStrahan strove in vain to suppress; "I will leave you to morecongenial society. I have paid you the highest compliment in mypower, and have been ill-requited. " As if stung, the young girl took a step towards him, and said, indignantly: "What was the nature of your compliment? What have youasked but that I should sell myself for money? I may have appearedto you a mere society girl, but I was never capable of that. Good-evening, sir. " Mr. Lanniere departed with tingling ears, and a dawning consciousnessthat he had over-rated his million, and that he had made a fool ofhimself generally. All trace of mirth passed from Strahan's expression, as he lookedat the young girl's stern, flushed face and the angry sheen of hereyes. "By Jove!" he exclaimed, "that's magnificent. I've seen a girl nowto whom I can take off my hat, not as a mere form. Half the girlsin our set would have given their eyes for the chance of capturingsuch a man. Think what a vista of new bonnets he suggests!" "You are probably mistaken. One girl has proved how she regardedthe vista, and I don't believe you had any better opinion of methan of the others. Come now, own up. Be honest. Didn't you regardme as one of the girls 'in our set' as you phrase it, that wouldjump at the chance?" "Oh, nonsense, Miss Marian. The idea--" She checked him by a gesture. "I wish downright sincerity, and Ishall detect the least false note in your words. " Strahan looked into her resolute, earnest eyes a moment, andthen revealed a new trait. He discarded the slight affectationthat characterized his manner, stood erect, and returned her gazesteadily. "You ask for downright sincerity?" he said. "Yes; I will take nothing less. " "You have no right to ask it unless you will be equally sincerewith me. " "Oh, indeed; you are in a mood for bargains, as well as Mr. Lanniere. " "Not at all. You have stepped out of the role of the mere societygirl. In that guise I shall be all deference and compliments. Onthe basis of downright sincerity I have my rights, and you haveno right to compel me to give an honest opinion so personal in itsnature without giving one in return. " "I agree, " she said, after a moment's thought. "Well, then, while I was by no means sure, I thought it was possible, even probable, that you would accept a man like Lanniere. I haveknown society girls to do such things, haven't you?" "And I tell you, Mr. Strahan, that you misjudge a great many societygirls. " "Oh, you must tell me a great deal more than that. Have I not justdiscovered that I misjudged one? Now pitch into Arthur Strahan. " "I am inclined to think that I have misjudged you, also; butI will keep my compact, and give you the impression you made, andyou won't like it. " "I don't expect to; but I shall expect downright sincerity. " "Very well. I'll test you. You are not simple and manly, even inyour dress and manner; you are an anomaly in the country; you areinclined to gossip; and it's my belief that a young man should domore in life than amuse himself. " Strahan flushed, but burst out laughing as he exclaimed, "Myphotograph, by Jupiter!" "Photographs give mere surface. Come, what's beneath it?" "In one respect, at least, I think I am on a par with yourself. Ihave enough honest good-nature to listen to the truth with thanks. " "Is that all?" "Come, Miss Marian, what is the use of words when I have had suchan example of deeds? I have caught you, red-handed, in the act ofgiving a millionnaire his conge. In the face of this stern factdo you suppose I am going to try to fish up some germs of manhoodfor your inspection? As you have suggested, I must do something, or I'm out of the race with you. I honestly believe, though, I amnot such a fool as I have seemed. I shall always be something ofa rattle-brain, I suppose, and if I were dying I could not helpseeing the comical side of things. " He hesitated a moment, and thenasked, abruptly, "Miss Marian, have you read to-day's paper?" "Yes, I have, " with a tinge of sadness in her tone. "Well, so have I. Think of thousands of fine young fellows lyingstiff and stark in those accursed swamps!" "Yes, " she cried, with a rush of tears, "I WILL think of them. I will try to see them, horrible as the sight is, even in fancy. When they died so heroically, shame on me if I turn away in weak, dainty disgust! Oh, the burning shame that Northern girls don'tthink more of such men and their self-sacrifice!" "You're a trump, Miss Marian; that's evident. Well, one little bitof gossip about myself, and then I must go. I have another engagementthis evening. Old Lanniere was right. I'm young, and I've beenvery young. Of late I've made deliberate effort to remain a fool;but a man has got to be a fool or a coward down to the very hard-panof his soul if the logic of recent events has no effect on him. Idon't think I am exactly a coward, but the restraint of army-life, and especially roughing it, is very distasteful. I kept thinkingit would all soon be over, that more men were in now than wereneeded, and that it was a confounded disagreeable business, andall that. But my mind wasn't at rest; I wasn't satisfied with theambitions of my callow youth; and, as usual when one is in troubleand in doubt about a step, I exaggerated my old folly to disguisemy feelings. But this Richmond campaign, and the way StonewallJackson has been whacking our fellows in the Shenandoah, made mefeel that I was standing back too long, and the battle describedin to-day's paper brought me to a decision. I'm in for it, MissMarian. You may think I'm not worth the powder required to blow meup, but I'm going to Virginia as soon as I can learn enough not tobe more dangerous to those around me than to the enemy. " She darted to his side, and took his hand, exclaiming, "Mr. Strahan!forgive me; I've done you a hundred-fold more injustice than youhave me!" He was visibly embarrassed, a thing unusual with him, and hesaid, brusquely: "Oh, come now, don't let us have any pro patriaexaltation. I don't resemble a hero any more than I do a doctor ofdivinity. I'm just like lots of other young fellows who have gone, only I have been slower in going, and my ardor won't set the riveron fire. But the times are waking up all who have any wake-up inthem, and the exhibition of the latest English cut in coats andtrousers is taking on a rather inglorious aspect. How ridiculousit all seems in the light of the last battle! Jove! but I HAVE beenyoung!" He did look young indeed, with his blond mustache and flushed face, that was almost as fair as a girl's. She regarded him wonderingly, thinking how strangely events were applying the touchstone to oneand another. But the purpose of this boyish-appearing exquisitewas the most unexpected thing in the era of change that had begun. She could scarcely believe it, and exclaimed, "You face a cannon?" "I don't look like it, do I? I fancy I would. I should be toobig a coward to run away, for then I should have to come back toface you, which would be worse, you know. I'm not going to do anybragging, however. Deeds, deeds. Not till I have laid out a Johnny, or he has laid me out, can I take rank with you after your rout ofthe man of millions. I don't ask you to believe in me yet. " "Well, I do believe in you. You are making an odd yet vividimpression on me. I believe you will face danger just as you didMr. Lanniere, in a half-nonchalant and a half-satirical mood, whileall the time there will be an undercurrent of downright earnestnessand heroism in you, which you will hide as if you were ashamed ofit. " He flushed with pleasure, but only laughed, "We'll see. " Then aftera moment he added, "Since we are down to the bed-rock in our talkI'll say out the rest of my say, then follow Lanniere, and givehim something more to digest before he sleeps. " "Halt, sir--military jargon already--how can you continue yourquarrel with Mr. Lanniere without involving my name?" Strahan looked blank for a second, then exclaimed: "Another evidence, of extreme youth! Lanniere may go to thunder before I risk annoyingyou. " "Yes, thank you; please let him go to thunder. He won't talk ofthe affair, and so can do you no harm. " "Supposing he could, that would be no excuse for annoying you. " "I think you punished him sufficiently before he went, and withoutceasing to be a gentleman, too. If you carry out your brave purposeyou need not fear for your reputation. " "Well, Miss Marian, I shall carry it out. Society girl as I believedyou to be, I like you better than the others. Don't imagine I'mgoing to be sentimental. I should stand as good a chance of winninga major-general's stars as you. I've seen better fellows raisingthe siege and disappearing, you know. Well, the story I thoughtwould be short is becoming long. I wanted to tell you first whatI proposed; for, hang it all! I've read it in your eyes that youthought I was little better than a popinjay, and I wished to proveto you that I could be a man after my fashion. " "I like your fashion, and am grateful for your confidence. What'smore, you won't be able to deceive me a bit hereafter. I shallpersist in admiring you as a brave man, and shall stand up for youthrough thick and thin. " "You always had a kind of loyalty to us fellows that we recognizedand appreciated. " "I feel now as if I had not been very loyal to any one, not evenmyself. As with you, however, I must let the future tell a differentstory. " "If I make good my words, will you be my friend?" "Yes, yes indeed, and a proud one. But oh!"--she clasped her handover her eyes, --"what is all this tending to? When I think of thedanger and suffering to which you may--" "Oh, come now, " he interrupted, laughing, but with a littlesuspicious moisture in eyes as blue as her own; "it will be harderfor you to stay and think of absent friends than for them to go. I foresee how it will turn out. You will be imagining high tragedyon stormy nights when we shall be having a jolly game of poker. Good-night. I shall be absent for a time, --going to West Point tobe coached a little by my friend Captain Varrum. " He drew himself up, saluted her a la militaire, right-about-facedwith the stiffness of a ramrod, and was departing, when a lighthand touched his arm, and Marian said, with a look so kind andsympathetic that his eyes fell before it: "Report to me occasionally, Captain Strahan. There are my colors;" and she gave him a whiterose from her belt. His mouth quivered slightly, but with a rather faltering laughhe replied, as he put the rose to his lips, "Never let the colorsuggest that I will show the white feather;" and then he began hismilitary career with a precipitate retreat. CHAPTER VIII. CHARMED BY A CRITIC. "WHAT next?" was Marian's wondering query after Mr. Strahan'sdeparture. The change of motive which already had had no slightinfluence on her own action and feeling had apparently ushered ina new era in her experience; but the sense of novelty in personalaffairs was quite lost as she contemplated the transformation inthe mercurial Strahan, who had apparently been an irredeemable fop. That the fastidious exquisite should tramp through Virginia mud, and face a battery of hostile cannon, appeared to her the mostmarvellous of human paradoxes. An hour before she would have declaredthe idea preposterous. Now she was certain he would do all that hehad said, and would do it in the manner satirical and deprecatorytowards himself which she had suggested. Radical as the change seemed, she saw that it was a natural oneas he had explained it. If there was any manhood in him the timeswould evoke it. After all, his chief faults had been youth anda nature keenly sensitive to certain social influences. Belongingto a wealthy and fashionable clique in the city, he had early beenimpressed by the estimated importance of dress and gossip. To excelin these, therefore, was to become pre-eminent. As time passed, however, the truth, never learned by some, that his clique was notthe world, began to dawn on him. He was foolish, but not a fool;and when he saw young fellows no older than himself going to thefront, when he read of their achievements and sufferings, he drewcomparisons. The result was that he became more and more dissatisfied. He felt that he was anomalous, in respect not only to the ruralscenery of his summer home, but to the times, and the convictionwas growing that the only way to right himself was to follow thehost of American youth who had gone southward. It was a conviction towhich he could not readily yield, and which he sought to disguiseby exaggerating his well-known characteristics. People of histemperament often shrink from revealing their deeper feelings, believing that these would seem to others so incongruous as to callforth incredulous smiles. Strahan was not a coward, except in thepresence of ridicule. This had more terrors for him than all theguns of the Confederacy; and he knew that every one, from his ownfamily down, would laugh at the thought of his going to the war. In a way that puzzled him a little he felt that he would not careso much if Marian Vosburgh did not laugh. The battle of which hehad read to-day had at last decided him; he must go; but if Marianwould give him credit for a brave, manly impulse, and not think ofhim as a ludicrous spectacle when he donned the uniform, he wouldmarch away with a light heart. He did not analyze her influenceover him, but only knew that she had a peculiar fascination whichit was not in his impressionable nature to resist. Thus it may be seen that he only gave an example of the truth thatgreat apparent changes are the result of causes that have long beensecretly active. Marian, like many others, did not sufficiently take this fact intoaccount, and was on the qui vive for other remarkable manifestations. They did not occur. As her father had predicted, life, in itsoutward conditions, resumed its normal aspects. Her mother laugheda little, sighed a little, when she heard the story of Mr. Lanniere'sfinal exit; the coquettish kitchen-maid continued her career withundisturbed complacency; and Marian to her own surprise found that, after the first days of her enthusiasm had passed, it required theexertion of no little will-power to refrain from her old motivesand tactics. But she was loyal to herself and to her implied promiseto her father. She knew that he was watching her, --that he had sethis heart on the development, in a natural way, of her best traits. She also knew that if she faltered she must face his disappointmentand her own contempt. She had a horror, however, of putting on what she called "goody-goodyairs, " and under the influence of this feeling acted much likeher old self. Not one of her callers could have charged her withmanifesting a certain kind of misleading favor, but her little salonappeared as free from restraint as ever, and her manner as genialand lively. It began to be observed by some, however, that whileshe participated unhesitatingly in the light talk of others, sheherself would occasionally broach topics of more weight, especiallysuch as related to the progress of the war; and more than once shegave such direction to her conversation with the artist as madehis eyes kindle. Her father was satisfied. He usually came home late on Saturday, and some of her gentleman friends who were in the habit of droppingin of a Sunday evening, were soon taught that these hours wereengaged. "You need not excuse yourself on my account, " her father had saidto her. "But I shall, " was her prompt response. "After all you have doneand are doing for me, it's a pity if I can't give you one eveningin the week. You are looking after other people in New York;I'm going to look after you; and you shall find that I am a sharpinquisitor. You must reveal enough of the secrets of that mysteriousoffice of yours to satisfy me that you are not in danger. " He soon began to look forward with glad anticipation to his rambleby her side in the summer twilight. He saw that what he had doneand what he had thought during the week interested her deeply, andto a girl of her intelligence he had plenty to tell that was farfrom commonplace. She saw the great drama of her country's historyunfolding, and not only witnessed the events that were presentedto the world, but was taken behind the scenes and shown many ofthe strange and secret causes that were producing them. Moreoverexpectation of something larger and greater was constantly raised. After their walk they would return to the house, and she would singor read to him until she saw his eyes heavy with the sleep thatsteals gradually and refreshingly into a weary man's brain. Mrs. Vosburgh observed this new companionship with but little surpriseand no jealousy. "It was time, " she said, "that Marian should beginto do something for her father, and not leave everything to me. " One thing puzzled Marian: weeks were passing and she neither sawnor heard anything of Lane or Strahan. This fact, in view of whathad been said at parting, troubled her. She was not on callingterms with the latter's family, and therefore was unable to learnanything from them. Even his male friends in the neighborhood didnot know where he was or what he was doing. Her father had takenthe pains to inform himself that Lane was apparently at work inhis law-office as usual. These two incipient subjects of the powershe hoped to wield seemed to have dropped her utterly, and she wasdiscouraged. On the last day of June she was taking a ramble in a somewhatwild and secluded place not far from her home, and thinking ratherdisconsolately that her father had overrated her influence, --thatafter all she was but a pretty and ordinary girl, like millionsof others, --a fact that Lane and Strahan had at last discovered. Suddenly she came upon the artist, sketching at a short distancefrom her. As she turned to retreat a twig snapped under her foot, revealing her presence. He immediately arose and exclaimed, "MissVosburgh, is it I that you fear, or a glimpse of my picture?" "Neither, of course. I feared I might dispel an inspired mood. Why should I intrude, when you have nature before you and the muselooking over your shoulder?" "Over my left shoulder, then, with a mocking smile. You aremistaken if you fancy you can harm any of my moods. Won't you stayand criticise my picture for me?" "Why, Mr. Blauvelt, I'm not an art critic. " "Yes, you are, --one of the class I paint for. Our best critics areour patrons, cultivated people. " "I should never think of patronizing you. " "Perhaps you might entertain the thought of encouraging me a little, if you felt that I was worth it. " "Now, Mr. Blauvelt, notwithstanding the rural surroundings, youmust remember that I was bred in the city. I know the sovereigncontempt that you artists have for the opinions of the people. Whenit comes to art, I'm only people. " "No such generalization will answer in your case. You have asdistinct an individuality as any flower blooming on this hillside. " "There are flowers and flowers. Some are quite common. " "None are commonplace to me, for there is a genuine bit of naturein every one. Still you are right: I was conscious of the fragrancefrom this eglantine-bush here, until you came. " "Oh, then let me go at once. " "I beg that you will not. You are the eglantine in human form, andoften quite as briery. " "Then you should prefer the bush there, which gives you its beautyand fragrance without a scratch. But truly your comparison is toofar-fetched, even for an artist or a poet, for I suppose they arenear of kin. To sensible, matter-of-fact girls, nothing is moreabsurd than your idealization of us. See how quickly and honestlyI can disenchant you. In the presence of both nature and art Iam conscious that it is nearly lunch-time. You are far from yourboarding-place, so come and take your luck with us. Mamma will beglad to see you, and after lunch I may be a more amiable critic. " "As a critic, I do not wish you to be amiable, but honest severityitself. That you stumbled upon me accidentally in your presentmood is my good fortune. Tell me the faults in my picture in theplainest English, and I will gratefully accept your invitation; forthe hospitality at your cottage is so genial that bread and cheesewould be a banquet. I have a strong fancy for seeing my work throughyour eyes, and so much faith in you that I know you will tell mewhat you think, since I ask you to do so. " "Why have you faith in me?" she asked, with a quick, searchingglance. "I belong somewhat to the impressionist school, and my impressionof you leads to my words. " "If you compel me to be honest, I must say I'm not capable ofcriticising your picture. I know little of art, and nothing of itsTECHNIQUE. " "Eyes like yours should be able to see a great deal, and, as I said, I am possessed by the wish to know just what they do see. There isthe scene I was sketching, and here the canvas. Please, Miss Marian. " "It will be your own fault, now, if you don't like what I say, "laughed the young girl, with ready tact, for a quick glance or twohad already satisfied her that the picture was not to her taste. "My only remark is this, Mr. Blauvelt, --Nature does not make thesame impression on me that it does on you. There is the scene, asyou say. How can I make you understand what I feel? Nature alwayslooks so natural to me! It awakens within me various emotions, butnever surprise, --I mean that kind of surprise one has when seeinga lady dressed in colors that do not harmonize. To my eye, even ingaudy October, Nature appears to blend her effects so that thereis nothing startling or incongruous. " "Is there anything startling and incongruous in my picture?" "I have not said that. You see you have brought me into perplexity, youhave taken me beyond my depth, by insisting on having my opinion. I have read a good many art criticisms first and last. Art is gabbledabout a good deal in society, you know, and we have to keep a setof phrases on hand, whether we understand them or not. But sinceyou believe in impressions, and will have mine, it is this as nearlyas I can express it. You are under the influence of a school ora fashion in art, and perhaps unconsciously you are controlled bythis when looking at the scene there. It seems to me that if I werean artist I should try to get on my canvas the same effects thatnature produces, and I would do it after my own fashion and notafter some received method just then prevailing. Let me illustratewhat I mean by a phase of life that I know more about. There aresome girls in society whose ambition it is to dress in the lateststyle. They are so devoted to fashion that they appear to forgetthemselves, and are happy if their costume reflects the mode of thehour, even though it makes them look hideous. My aim would be tosuggest the style rather unobtrusively, and clothe myself becomingly. I'm too egotistical to be ultra-fashionable. Since I, who am inlove chiefly with myself, can so modify style, much more shouldyou, who are devoted to nature, make fashion in art subservient tonature. " "You are right. I have worked too much in studios and not enoughout of doors. Ever since I have been sketching this summer, I havehad a growing dissatisfaction, and a sense of being trammelled. Ido believe, as you say, that a certain received method or fashionof treatment has been uppermost in my mind, and I have been tryingto torture--nature into conformity. I'll paint this thing all outand begin again. " "No, don't do that. Are not pictures like people a little? IfI wanted to improve in some things, it wouldn't do for me to bepainted all out. Cannot changes for the better come by softeningfeatures here and bringing out others there, by colorings a littlemore like those before us, and--pardon me--by not leaving so muchto the imagination? You artists can see more between the lines thanwe people can. " "Let me try;" and with eager eyes he sat down before his easelagain. "Now see if I succeed a little, " he added, after a moment. His whole nature appeared kindled and animated by hope. He workedrapidly and boldly. His drawing had been good before, and, as timepassed, nature's sweet, true face began to smile upon him fromhis canvas. Marian grew almost as absorbed as himself, learning byactual vision how quick, light strokes can reproduce and preserveon a few square inches the transitory beauty of the hour and theseason. At times she would stimulate his effort by half-spoken sentencesof satisfaction, and at last he turned and looked up suddenly ather flushed, interested face. "You are the muse, " he exclaimed, impetuously, "who, by lookingover my shoulder, can make an artist of me. " She instinctively stepped farther away, saying, decisively, "Becareful then to regard me as a muse. " She had replied to his ardent glance and tone, even more than tohis words. There was not a trace of sentiment in her clear, directgaze. The quiet dignity and reserve of her manner sobered himinstantly. Her presence, her words, the unexpected success in thenew departure which she had suggested, had excited him deeply; yeta moment's thought made it clear that there had been nothing onher part to warrant the hope of more than friendly interest. Thisinterest might easily be lost by a few rash words, while therewas slight reason that he should ever hope for anything more. Thenalso came the consciousness of his straitened circumstances and theabsurdity of incurring obligations which he might never be able tomeet. He had assured himself a thousand times that art should behis mistress, yet here he was on the eve of acting like a fool bymaking love to one who never disguised her expensive tastes. He wasnot an artist of the olden school, --all romance and passion, --andthe modishly dressed, reserved maiden before him did not, in theremotest degree, suggest a languishing heroine in days of yore, certain to love against sense and reason. The wild, sylvan shade, the June atmosphere, the fragrance of the eglantine, even thepresence of art, in whose potent traditions mood is the highest law, could not dispel the nineteenth century or make this independent, clear-headed American girl forget for a moment what was sensibleand right. She stood there alone under the shadow of the chestnuts, and by a glance defined her rights, her position towards her companion, and made him respect them. Nor was he headlong, passionate, absurd. He was a part of his age, and was familiar with New York society. The primal instincts of his nature had obtained ascendency fora mordent. Ardent words to the beautiful girl who looked overhis shoulder and inspired his touch seemed as natural as breath. She had made herself for the moment a part of his enthusiasm. Butwhat could be the sequel of ardent words, even if successful, butprosaic explanations and the facing of the inexorable problem ofsupporting two on an income that scarcely sufficed for the Bohemianlife of one? He had sufficient self-control, and was mentally agile enough tocome down upon his feet. Rising, he said, quietly: "If you will bemy muse, as far as many other claims upon your time and thoughtspermit, I shall be very grateful. I have observed that you havea good eye for harmony in color, and, what is best of all, I haveinduced you to be very frank. See how much you have helped me. Inbrief--Bless me! how long have you been here?" He pulled out his watch in comic dismay, and held it towards her. "No lunch for us to-day, " he concluded, ruefully. "Well, " exclaimed Marian, laughing, "this is the first symptomI have ever had of being an artist. It was quite natural that youshould forget the needs of sublunary mortals, but that I should doso must prove the existence of an undeveloped trait. I could becomequite absorbed in art if I could look on and see its wonders likea child. You must come home with me and take your chance. If lunchis over, we'll forage. " He laughingly shouldered his apparatus, and walked by her sidethrough the June sunshine and shade, she in the main keeping upthe conversation. At last he said, rather abruptly: "Miss Vosburgh, you do not look on like a child, --rather, with more intelligencethan very many society girls possess; and--will you forgive me?--youdefend yourself like a genuine American woman. I have lived abroad, you know, and have learned how to value such women. I wish you toknow how much I respect you, how truly I appreciate you, and howgrateful and honored I shall feel if you will be simply a frank, kind friend. You made use of the expression 'How shall I makeyou understand?' So I now use it, and suggest what I mean by aquestion, --Is there not something in a man's nature which enableshim to do better if some woman, in whom he believes, shows thatshe cares?" "I should be glad if this were true of some men, " she said, gently, "because I do care. I'll be frank, too. Nothing would give me amore delicious sense of power than to feel that in ways I scarcelyunderstood I was inciting my friends to make more of themselvesthan they would if they did not know me. If I cannot do a littleof what you suggest, of what account am I to my friends?" "Your friends can serve a useful purpose by amusing you. " "Then the reverse is true, and I am merely amusing to my friends. Is that the gist of your fine words, after all?" and her faceflushed as she asked the question. "No, it is not true, Miss Vosburgh. You have the power of entertainingyour friends abundantly, but you could make me a better artist, and that with me would mean a better man, if you took a genuineinterest in my efforts. " "I shall test the truth of your words, " was her smiling response. "Meanwhile you can teach me to understand art better, so that Ishall know what I am talking about. " Then she changed the subject. CHAPTER IX. A GIRL'S LIGHT HAND. ON the evening of the 3d of July Marian drove down in her phaetonto the station for her father, and was not a little surprised tosee him advancing towards her with Mr. Lane. The young man shookhands with her cordially, yet quietly, and there was something inhis expression that assured her of the groundlessness of all thefears she had entertained. "I have asked Mr. Lane to dine with us, " said her father. "He willwalk over from the hotel in the course of half an hour. " While the gentlemen had greeted her smilingly, there had been anexpression on their faces which suggested that their minds werenot engrossed by anticipation of a holiday outing. Marian knew wellwhat it meant. The papers had brought to every home in the land thetidings of the awful seven days' fighting before Richmond. So farfrom taking the city, McClellan had barely saved his army. Thousandsof men were dead in the swamps of the Chickahominy; thousands weredying in the sultry heat of the South and on the malarial banks ofthe James. Mr. Vosburgh's face was sad and stern in its expression, and whenMarian asked, "Papa, is it so bad as the papers say?" he replied:"God only knows how bad it is. For a large part of our army it isas bad as it can be. The most terrible feature of it all to me isthat thick-headed, blundering men are holding in their irresolutehands the destinies of just such brave young fellows as Mr. Lanehere. It is not so dreadful for a man to die if his death furthersa cause which he believes to be sacred, but to die from the sheerstupidity and weakness of his leaders is a bitter thing. Instead ofbrave action, there is fatal blundering all along the line. For along time the President, sincere and true-hearted as he is, couldnot learn that he is not a military man, and he has permitted alarge part of our armies to be scattered all over Virginia. Theyhave accomplished next to nothing. McClellan long since proved thathe would not advance without men enough to walk over everything. He is as heavy as one of his own siege guns. He may be sure, if hehas all he wants, but is mortally slow, and hadn't brains enoughto realize that the Chickahominy swamps thinned his army fasterthan brave fighting. He should have been given the idle, uselessmen under McDowell and others, and then ordered to take Richmond. If he wouldn't move, then they should have put a man in his placewho would, and not one who would sit down and dig. At last he hasreceived an impetus from Richmond, instead of Washington, and hehas moved at a lively pace, but to the rear. His men were as braveas men could be; and if the courage shown on the retreat, or changeof base, as some call it, had been manifested in an advance, weeksago, Richmond would have been ours. The 'change of base' has carriedus well away from the point attacked, brave men have suffered anddied in vain, and the future is so clouded that only one thing iscertain. " "What is that, papa?" was the anxious query. "We must never give up. We must realize that we are confrontingsome of the best soldiers and generals the world has known. TheNorth is only half awake to its danger and the magnitude of its task. We have sent out comparatively few of our men to do a disagreeableduty for us, while we take life comfortably and luxuriously asbefore. The truth will come home to us soon, that we are engagedin a life-and-death struggle. " "Papa, these events will bring no changes to you? In your work, Imean?" "Not at present. I truly believe, Marian, that I can serve my countrymore effectively in the performance of the duties with which I amnow charged. But who can tell what a day will bring forth? Lane isgoing to the front. He will tell you all about it. He is a manlyfellow, and no doubt will explain why you have not heard from him. " "Real life has come in very truth, " thought Marian, as she went toher room to prepare for dinner; "but on every side it also bringsthe thought of death. " Her face was pale, and clouded with apprehension, when she joinedthe gentlemen; but Lane was so genial and entertaining at dinneras to make it difficult for her to believe that he had resolved ona step so fraught with risk. When at last they were alone in thedrawing-room she said, "Is it true that you intend to enter thearmy?" "Yes, and it is time that it was true, " was his smiling reply. "I don't feel like laughing, Mr. Lane. Going to Virginia does notstrike me as a pleasure excursion. I have thought a great dealsince I saw you last. You certainly have kept your promise to bea distant and absent friend. " He looked at her eagerly, as he said, "You have thought a greatdeal--have you thought about me?" "Certainly, " she replied, with a slight flush; "I meant all thatI said that evening. " That little emphasized word dispelled the hope that had for a momentasserted itself. Time and a better acquaintance with her own hearthad not brought any change of feeling to her, and after a momenthe said, quietly: "I think I can prove that I have been a sincereand loyal friend as well as an absent one. Having never felt--well, you cannot know--it takes a little time for a fellow to--pardonme; let all that go. I have tried to gain self-control, and I haveobeyed your request, to do nothing rash, literally. I remainedsteadily at work in my office a certain number of hours everyday. If the general hope that Richmond would be taken, and the warpractically ended, had proved well founded, for the sake of othersI should have resisted my inclination to take part in the struggle. I soon concluded, however, that it would be just as well to preparefor what has taken place, and so gave part of my afternoons andevenings to a little useful training. I am naturally very fondof a horse, and resolved that if I went at all it should be as acavalry-man, so I have been giving not a little of my time to horsebackexercise, sabre, pistol, and carbine practice, and shall not bequite so awkward as some of the other raw recruits. I construedMcClellan's retreat into an order for me to advance, and have cometo you as soon as I could to report progress. " "Why could you not have come before?--why could you not have toldme?" she asked, a little reproachfully. "Some day perhaps you will know, " he replied, turning away for amoment. "I feared that maturer thought had convinced you that I could notbe much of a friend, --that I was only a gay young girl who wouldn'tappreciate an earnest man's purposes. " "Miss Marian, you wrong me in thinking that I could so wrong you. Never for a moment have I entertained such a thought. I can't explainto you all my experience. I wished to be more sure of myself, tohave something definite to tell you, that would prove me more worthyof your friendship. " "My faith in you has never faltered a moment, Mr. Lane. While yourwords make me proud indeed, they also make me very sad. I don'twonder that you feel as you do about going, and were I a manI should probably take the same course. But I am learning at lastwhat this war means. I can't with a light heart see my friends go. " "Let it be with a brave heart, then. There are tears in your eyes, Miss Marian. " "Why should there not be? O Mr. Lane, I am not coldhearted andcallous. I am not so silly and shallow as I seemed. " "I never thought you so--" By a gesture she stopped him, as she continued: "I recognized theexpression on papa's face and yours the moment I saw you, and Iknow what it means. " "Yes, Miss Marian; and I recognize the expression on your face. Were you a man you would have gone before this. " "I think it would be easier to go than to stay and think of allone's friends must face. " "Of course it would be for one like you. You must not look on thedark side, however. You will scarcely find a jollier set of menthan our soldiers. " "I fear too many are reckless. This you have promised me not tobe. " "I shall keep my promise; but a soldier must obey orders, you know. O Miss Marian, it makes such a difference with me to know that youcare so much! Knowing you as I do now, it would seem like blacktreason to do or be anything unmanly. " Callers were now announced, and before an hour had passed therewere half a dozen or more young men in the drawing-room. Some werestaying at the hotel, but the majority were from the villas in theneighborhood, the holiday season permitting the return of thosein business. However dark and crimson might be the tide of thoughtthat flowed through the minds of those present, in memory of whathad occurred during the last few days, the light of mirth playedon the surface. The times afforded themes for jest, rather thandoleful predictions. Indeed, in accordance with a principle in humannature, there was a tendency to disguise feelings and anxiety bywords so light as to border on recklessness. Questions as to futureaction were coming home to all the young men, but not for the worldwould they permit one another, or especially a spirited young girl, to suspect that they were awed, or made more serious even, by thethought that the battle was drawing nearer to them. Lane was aleader in the gayety. His presence was regarded by some with bothsurprise and surmise. It had been thought that he had disappearedfinally below Miss Vosburgh's horizon, but his animated face andmanner gave no indication of a rejected and despondent suitor. The mirth was at its height when Strahan entered, dressed plainlyin the uniform of a second lieutenant. He was greeted with a shoutof laughter by the young men, who knew him well, and by a cordialpressure from Marian's hand. This made the gauntlet which he knewhe must run of little consequence to him. All except Lane drew upand gave him a military salute. "Pretty fair for the awkward squad, " he remarked, coolly. "Come, report, report, " cried several voices; "where have you been?" "In Virginia. " "Why, of course, fellows, he's been arranging the change of basewith McClellan, only the army went south and he came north. " "I've been farther south than any of you. " "See here, Strahan, this uniform is rather new for a veteran's. " "Yes; never dealt in old clothes. " "Where's your command?" "Here, if you'll all enlist. I think I could make soldiers of someof you. " "Why, fellows, what a chance for us! If Strahan can't teach us theetiquette of war, who can?" "Yes, gentlemen; and I will give you the first rule in advance. Always face the music. " "Dance music, you mean. Strahan has been at West Point and knowsthat a fellow in civilian togs stands no chance. How he eclipsesus all to-night with the insignia of rank on his shoulders! Wherewill you make headquarters?" "At home, for the present. " "That's right. We knew you would hit upon the true theoryof campaigning. Never was there a better strategic point for youroperations, Strahan, than the banks of the Hudson. " "I shall try to prove you right. A recruiting sergeant will joinme in a day or two, and then I can accommodate you all with muskets. " "All? Not Miss Marian?" "Those possessing her rank and influence do not carry muskets. " "Come, fellows, let us celebrate the 4th by enlisting under Strahan, "cried the chief spokesman, who was not a very friendly neighbor ofthe young officer. "It won't be long before we shall know all thegossip of the Confederacy. " "You will certainly have to approach near enough to receive somevery direct news. " "Gentlemen, " cried Marian, "a truce! Mr. Strahan has proved thathe can face a hot fire, and send back good shots, even when greatlyoutnumbered. I have such faith in him that I have already given himmy colors. You may take my word for it that he will render a goodaccount of himself. I am now eager to hear of his adventures. " "I haven't had any, Miss Marian. What I said about Virginia wasmere bluff, --merely made an excursion or two on the Virginia sideof the Potomac, out of curiosity. " "But what does this uniform mean?" "Merely what it suggests. I went to Washington, which is a greatcamp, you know. Through relatives I had some influence there, andat last obtained a commission at the bottom of the ladder in a newregiment that is to be recruited. Meanwhile I was put through themanual of arms, with a lot of other awkward fellows, by a drillofficer. I kept shady and told my people to be mum until somethingcame out of it all. Come, fellows, thirteen dollars a month, hardtack, and glory! Don't all speak at once!" "I'm with you as far as going is concerned, " said Lane, shakingStrahan's hand warmly, "only I've decided on the cavalry. " "Were I a man, you should have one recruit for your regiment to-night, "said Marian. "You have gone to work in a way that inspires confidence. " "I foresee, fellows, that we shall all have to go, or else MissMarian will cross us out of her books, " remarked one of the youngmen. "No, indeed, " she replied. "I would not dare urge any one to go. But those who, like Mr. Lane and Mr. Strahan, decide the questionfor themselves, cannot fail to carry my admiration with them. " "That's the loudest bugle call I expect to hear, " remarked Mr. Blauvelt, who entered at that moment. "Here's the place to open your recruiting-office, " added another, laughing. "If Miss Marian would be free with her colors, she couldraise a brigade. " "I can assure you beforehand that I shall not be free with them;much less will I hold them out as an inducement. Slight as may betheir value, they must be earned. " "What chivalrous deed has Strahan performed?" was asked, in chorus. "One that I appreciate, and I don't give my faith lightly, " "Mr. Strahan, I congratulate you, " said Lane, with a swift andsomewhat reproachful glance at Marian; "you have already achievedyour best laurels. " "I've received them, but not earned them yet. Miss Marian gives afellow a good send-off, however, and time will tell the story withus all. I must now bid you good-evening, " he said to the younggirl. "I merely stopped for a few moments on my way from the train. " She followed him to the door, and said, sotto voce: "You held yourown splendidly. Your first report is more than satisfactory;" andhe departed happier than any major-general in the service. When the rest had gone, Lane, who had persistently lingered, began:"No doubt it will appear absurd to you that a friend should bejealous. But Strahan seems to have won the chief honors. " "Perhaps he has deserved them, Mr. Lane. I know what your opinionof him was, and I think you guessed mine. He has won the chief battleof life, --victory over himself. Ever since I have known you, youhave inspired my respect as a strong, resolute man. In resolvingupon what you would do instinctively Mr. Strahan has had such astruggle that he has touched my sympathies. One cannot help feelingdifferently toward different friends, you know. Were I in trouble, I should feel that I could lean upon you. To encourage and sustainwould always be my first impulse with Mr. Strahan. Are you content?" "I should try to be, had I your colors also. " "Oh, I only gave him a rose. Do you want one?" "Certainly. " "Well, now you are even, " she said, laughing, and handing him oneof those she wore. He looked at it thoughtfully for a moment, and then said, quietly:"Some would despise this kind of thing as the merest sentiment. With others it would influence the sternest action and the suprememoments of life. " CHAPTER X. WILLARD MERWYN. DURING her drives Marian had often passed the entrance to one ofthe finest old places in the vicinity, and, although aware that thefamily was absent in Europe, she had observed that the fact madeno difference in the scrupulous care of that portion of the groundswhich was visible. The vista from the road, however, was soon lostamong the boles and branches of immense overshadowing oaks. Even tothe passer-by an impression of seclusion and exclusion was given, and Marian at last noted that no reference was made to the familyin the social exchanges of her little drawing-room. The dwellingto which the rather stiff and stately entrance led was not visiblefrom the car-windows as she passed to and from the city, so abruptwas the intervening bluff, but upon one occasion from the deck ofa steamboat she had caught glimpses through the trees of a largeand substantial brick edifice. Before Strahan had disappeared for a time, as we have related, herslight curiosity had so far asserted itself that she had asked forinformation concerning the people who left their beautiful homeuntenanted in June. "I fancy I can tell you more about them than most people in thisvicinity, but that is not so very much. The place adjoins ours, and as a boy I fished and hunted with Willard Merwyn a good deal. Mrs. Merwyn is a widow and a Southern-bred woman. A Northern manof large wealth married her, and then she took her revenge on therest of the North by having as little to do with it as possible. She was said to own a large property in the South, --plantation, negroes, and all that. The place on the Hudson belonged to theMerwyn side of the house, and the family have only spent a fewsummers here and have been exclusive and unpopular. My mother madetheir acquaintance abroad, and they knew it would be absurd to puton airs with us; so the ladies of the two families have exchangedmore or less formal visits, but in the main they have little to dowith the society of this region. As boys Willard and myself did notcare a fig for these things, and became very good friends. I havenot seen him for several years; they have all been abroad; and Ihear that he has become an awful swell. " "Why then, if he ever returns, you and he will be good friendsagain, " Marian had laughingly replied and had at once dismissedthe exclusive Merwyns from her mind. On the morning of the 4th of July Strahan had come over to have aquiet talk with Marian, and had found Mr. Lane there before him. By feminine tactics peculiarly her own, Marian had given them tounderstand that both were on much the same footing, and that theirunited presence did not form "a crowd;" and the young men, havinga common ground of purpose and motive, were soon at ease together, and talked over personal and military matters with entire freedom, amusing the young girl with accounts of their awkwardness in drilland of the scenes they had witnessed. She was proud indeed of hertwo knights, as she mentally characterized them, --so different, yet both now inspiring a genuine liking and respect. She saw thather honest goodwill and admiration were evoking their best manhoodand giving them as much happiness as she would ever have the powerto bestow, and she felt that her scheme of life was not a falseone. They understood her fully, and knew that the time had passedforever when she would amuse herself at their expense. She hadbecome an inspiration of manly endeavor, and had ceased to be theobject of a lover's pursuit. If half-recognized hopes lurked intheir hearts, the fulfilment of these must be left to time. "By the way, " remarked Strahan, as he was taking his leave, "I hearthat these long-absent Merwyns have deigned to return to their nativeland, --for their own rather than their country's good though, Ifancy. I suppose Mrs. Merwyn feels that it is time she looked afterher property and maintained at least the semblance of loyalty. Ialso hear that they have been hob-nobbing with the English aristocracy, who look upon us Yankees as a 'blasted lot of cads, you know. 'Shall I bring young Merwyn over to see you after he arrives?" "As you please, " she replied, with an indifferent shrug. Strahan had a half-formed scheme in his mind, but when he calledupon young Merwyn he was at first inclined to hesitate. Great aswas his confidence in Marian, he had some vaguely jealous fears, more for the young girl than for himself, in subjecting her to theinfluence of the man that his boyhood's friend had become. Willard Merwyn was a "swell" in Strahan's vernacular, but even inthe early part of their interview he gave the impression of beingsomething more, or rather such a superior type of the "swell" genus, that Marian's friend was conscious of a fear that the young girlmight be dazzled and interested, perhaps to her sorrow. Merwyn had developed into a broad-shouldered man, nearly six feetin height. His quiet, courteous elegance did not disguise from onewho had known him so well in boyhood an imperious, self-pleasingnature, and a tenacity of purpose in carrying out his own desires. He accepted of his quondam friend's uniform without remark. Thatwas Strahan's affair and not his, and by a polite reserve, he madethe mercurial fellow feel that his affairs were his own. Strahanchafed under this polished reticence, this absence of all curiosity. "Blast him!" thought the young officer, "he acts like a superiorbeing, who has deigned to visit America to look after his rents, and intimates that the country has no further concern with him orhe with it. Jove! I'd give all the pay I ever expect to get to seehim a rejected suitor of my plucky little American girl;" and heregarded his host with an ill-disposed eye. At last he resolved totake the initiative boldly. "How long do you expect to remain here, Merwyn?" "I scarcely know. It depends somewhat on my mother's plans. " "Thunder! It's time you had plans of your own, especially when aman has your length of limb and breadth of chest. " "I have not denied the possession of plans, " Merwyn quietly remarked, his dark eye following the curling, upward flight of smoke fromhis cigar. "You certainly used to be decided enough sometimes, when I wantedyou to pull an oar. " "And you so good-naturedly let me off, " was the reply, with a slightlaugh. "I didn't let you off good-naturedly, nor do I intend to now. Goodheavens, Merwyn! don't you read the papers? There's a chance nowto take an oar to some purpose. You were brave enough as a boy. " Merwyn's eyes came down from the curling smoke to Strahan's facewith a flash, and he rose and paced the room for a moment, thensaid, in his old quiet tones, "They say the child is father of theman. " "Oh well, Merwyn, " was the slightly irritable rejoinder, "I haveand ever had, you remember, a way of expressing my thoughts. If, while abroad, you have become intolerant of that trait, why, thesooner we understand each other the better. I don't profess to beanything more than an American, and I called to-day with no othermotive than the obvious and natural one. " A shade of annoyance passed over Merwyn's face, but as Strahanceased he came forward and held out his hand, saying: "I like youall the better for speaking your thoughts, --for doing just as youplease. You must be equally fair and yield to me the privilege ofkeeping my thoughts, and doing as I please. " Strahan felt that there was nothing to do but to take the profferedhand, so irresistible was the constraint of his host's courtesy, although felt to be without warmth or cordiality. Disguising hisinward protest by a light laugh he said: "I could shake hands withalmost any one on such a mutual understanding. Well, since we havebegun on the basis of such absolute frankness on my part, my nextthought is, What shall be our relations while you are here? I am abusier fellow than I was at one time, and my stay is also uncertain, and sure to be brief. I do not wish to be unneighborly in remembranceof old times, nor do I wish to be obtrusive. In the natural orderof things, I should show you, a comparative stranger, some attention, inform you about the natives and transient residents, help youamuse yourself, and all that. But I have not the slightest desireto make unwelcome advances. I have plenty of such in prospect southof Mason and Dixon's line. " Merwyn laughed with some heartiness as he said: "You have attainedone attribute of a soldier assuredly, --bluntness. Positively, Strahan, you have developed amazingly. Why, only the other day wewere boys squabbling to determine who should have the first shotat an owl we saw in the mountains. The result was, the owl tookflight. You never gave in an inch to me then, and I liked you allthe better for it. Come now, be reasonable. I yield to you yourfull right to be yourself; yield as much to me and let us beginwhere we left off, with only the differences that years have made, and we shall get on as well as ever. " "Agreed, " said Strahan, promptly. "Now what can I do for you? Ihave only certain hours at my disposal. " "Well, " replied Merwyn, languidly, "come and see me when you can, and I'll walk over to your quarters--I suppose I should so callthem--and have a smoke with you occasionally. I expect to be awfullydull here, but between the river and the mountains I shall haveresources. " "You propose to ignore society then?" "Why say 'ignore'? That implies a conscious act. Let us supposethat society is as indifferent to me as I to it. " "There's a little stutterer down at the hotel who claims to be anEnglish lord. " "Bah, Strahan! I hope your sword is sharper than your satire. I'vehad enough of English lords for the present. " "Yes, Merwyn, you appear to have had enough of most things, --perhapstoo much. If your countrymen are uninteresting, you may possiblywish to meet some of your countrywomen. I've been abroad enough toknow that you have never found their superiors. " "Well, that depends upon who my countrywoman is. I should preferto see her before I intrude--" "Risk being bored, you mean. " "As you please. Fie, Strahan! you are not cultivating a soldier'spenchant for women?" "It hasn't needed any cultivating. I have my opinion of a man whodoes not admire a fine woman. " "So have I, only each and all must define the adjective forthemselves. " "It has been defined for me. Well, my time is up. We'll be twofriendly neutral powers, and, having marked out our positions, canmaintain our frontiers with diplomatic ease. Good-morning. " Merwyn laughingly accompanied his guest to the door, but on thepiazza, they met Mrs. Merwyn, who involuntarily frowned as she sawStrahan's uniform, then with quiet elegance she greeted the youngman. But he had seen her expression, and was somewhat formal. "We shall hope to see your mother and sisters before long, " thelady remarked. Strahan bowed, and walked with military erectness down the avenue, his host looking after him with cynical and slightly contemptuousgood-nature; but Mrs. Merwyn followed the receding figure with anexpression of great bitterness. Her appearance was that of a remarkable woman. She was tall, andslight; every motion was marked by grace, but it was the grace ofa person accustomed to command. One would never dream of woman'sministry when looking at her. Far more than would ever be true ofMarian she suggested power, but she would govern through her will, her pride and prejudices. The impress of early influences had sunkdeep into her character. The only child of a doting father, shehad ruled him, and, of course, the helpless slaves who had watchedher moods and trembled at her passion. There were scars on humanbacks to-day, which were the results of orders from her girlishlips. She was not greatly to blame. Born of a proud and imperiousancestry, she had needed the lessons of self-restraint and gentlenessfrom infancy. Instead, she had been absolute, even in the nursery;and as her horizon had widened it had revealed greater numbers towhom her will was law. From childhood she had passed into maidenhoodwith a dower of wealth and beauty, learning early, like Marian, that many of her own race were willing to become her slaves. In the South there is a chivalric deference to women far exceedingthat usually paid to the sex at the North, and her appearance, temperament, and position evoked that element to the utmost. Heknows little of human nature who cannot guess the result. Yet, bya common contradiction, the one among her many suitors who won suchlove as she could give was a Northern man as proud as herself. Hestood alone in his manner of approach, made himself the object ofher thoughts by piquing her pride, and met her varying moods bya quiet, unvarying dignity that compelled her respect. The resultwas that she yielded to the first man who would not yield unduedeference to her. Mr. Merwyn employed his power charily, however, or rather withprinciple. He quietly insisted on his rights; but as he granted herswithout a word, and never irritated her by small, fussy exactions, good-breeding prevented any serious clashing of wills, and theirmarried life had passed in comparative serenity. As time elapsedher will began, in many ways, to defer to his quieter and strongerwill, and then, as if life must teach her that there is no truecontrol except self-control, Mr. Merwyn died, and left her mistressof almost everything except herself. It must not be supposed, however, that her self-will was apassionate, moody absolutism. She had outgrown that, and was toowell-bred ever to show much temper. The tendency of her maturepurposes and prejudices was to crystallize into a few distinctforms. With the feminine logic of a narrow mind, she made her husbandan exception to the people among whom he had been born and bred. Widowed, she gave her whole heart to the South. Its institutions, habits, and social code were sacred, and all opponents thereofsacrilegious enemies. To that degree that they were hostile, oreven unbelieving, she hated them. During the years immediately preceding the war she had been abroadsuperintending the education of Willard and two younger daughters, and when hostilities began she was led to believe that she couldserve the cause better in England than on her remote plantation. In her fierce partisanship, or rather perverted patriotism, --forin justice it must be said that she knew no other country than theSouth, --she was willing to send her son to Richmond. He thwartedthis purpose by quietly manifesting one of his father's traits. "No, " he said, "I will not fight against the section to which myfather belonged. To my mind it's a wretched political squabble atbest, and the politicians will settle it before long. I have mylife before me, and don't propose to be knocked on the head forthe sake of a lot of political John Smiths, North or South. " In vain she tried to fire his heart with dreams of Southern empire. He had made up that part of himself derived from Northern birth--hismind--and would not yield. Meantime his Southern, indolent, pleasure-loving side was appealed to powerfully by aristocraticlife abroad, and he felt it would be the sheerest folly to abandonhis favorite pursuits. He was little more then than a gracefulanimal, shrewd enough to know that his property was chiefly at theNorth, and that it would be unwise to endanger it. Mrs. Merwyn's self-interest and natural affection led her to yieldto necessity with fairly good grace. The course resolved uponby Willard preserved her son and the property. When the Southhad accomplished its ambitious dreams she believed she would haveskill enough to place him high among its magnates, while, if hewere killed in one of the intervening battles, --well, she was loyalenough to incur the risk, but at heart she did not deeply regretthat she had escaped the probable sacrifice. Thus time passed on, and she used her social influence in behalfof her section, but guardedly, lest she should jeopardize theinterests of her children. In May of the year in which our storyopened, the twenty-first birthday of Willard occurred, and wascelebrated with befitting circumstance. He took all this quietly, but on the morning of the day following he said to his mother:-- "You remember the provisions of my father's will. My share of theproperty was to be transferred to me when I should become of age. We ought to return to New York at once and have the necessary papersmade out. " In vain she protested that the property was well managed, that theincome was received regularly, that he could have this, and thatit would be intensely disagreeable for her to visit New York. He, who had yielded indifferently to all her little exactions, wasinexorable, and the proud, self-willed woman found that he had somuch law and reason on his side that she was compelled to submit. Indeed, she at last felt that she had been unduly governed by herprejudices, and that it might be wise to go and see for themselvesthat their affairs were managed to the best advantage. Deepin her heart was also the consciousness that it was her husband'sindomitable will that she was carrying out, and that she couldnever escape from that will in any exigency where it could justlymake itself felt. She therefore required of her son the promisethat their visit should be as unobtrusive as possible, and thathe would return with her as soon as he had arranged matters to hismind. To this he had readily agreed, and they were now in the landfor which the mother had only hate and the son indifference. CHAPTER XI. AN OATH AND A GLANCE. As Strahan disappeared in the winding of the avenue a sudden andterrible thought occurred to Mrs. Merwyn. She glanced at her son, who had walked to the farther end of the piazza, and stood for amoment with his back towards her. His manly proportions made herrealize, as she had never done before, that he had attained hismajority, --that he was his own master. He had said he would notfight against the North, but, as far as the South was concerned, he had never committed himself. And then his terrible will! She went to her room and thought. He was in a land seething withexcitement and patriotic fervor. She knew not what influences aday might bring to bear upon him. Above all else she feared tauntsfor lack of courage. She knew that her own passionate pride sleptin his breast and on a few occasions she had seen its manifestations. As a rule he was too healthful, too well organized and indolent, to be easily irritated, while in serious matters he had not beencrossed. She knew enough of life to be aware that his manhood hadnever been awakened or even deeply moved, and she was eager indeedto accomplish their mission in the States and return to conditionsof life not so electrical. In the mean time she felt that she must use every precaution. Shesummoned a maid and asked that her son should be sent to her. The young man soon lounged in, and threw himself into an easy chair. His mother looked at him fixedly for a moment, and then asked, "Whyis young Strahan in THAT uniform?" "I didn't ask him, " was the careless reply. "Obviously, however, because he has entered the service in some capacity. " "Did he not suggest that it would be a very proper thing for youto do, also?" "Oh, of course. He wouldn't be Strahan if he hadn't. He has a highappreciation of a 'little brief authority, ' especially if vested inhimself. Believing himself to be so heroic he is inclined to callothers to account. " "I trust you have rated such vaporings at their worth. " "I have not rated them at all. What do I care for little Strahanor his opinions? Nil. " "Shall you see much of him while we are compelled to remain in thisdetestable land?" "More of him than of any one else, probably. We were boys together, and he amuses me. What is more to the point, if I make a Union officermy associate I disarm hostile criticism and throw an additionalsafeguard around my property. There is no telling to what desperatestraits the Northern authorities may be reduced, and I don't proposeto give them any grounds for confiscation. " "You are remarkably prudent, Willard, for a young man of Southerndescent. " "I am of Northern descent also, " he replied, with a light laugh. "Father was as strong a Northern man--so I imagine--as you are aSouthern woman, and so, by a natural law, I am neutral, brought toa standstill by two equal and opposite forces. " The intense partisan looked at him with perplexity, and for a momentfelt a strange and almost superstitious belief in his words. Wasthere a reciprocal relation of forces which would render her schemesfutile? She shared in the secret hopes and ambitions of the Southernleaders. Had Northern and Southern blood so neutralized the heartof this youth that he was indifferent to both sections? and had she, by long residence abroad, and indulgence, made him so cosmopolitanthat he merely looked upon the world as "his oyster"? She wasnot the first parent who, having failed to instil noble, naturalprinciples in childhood, is surprised and troubled at the outcomeof a mind developing under influences unknown or unheeded. Thatthe South would be triumphant she never doubted a moment. It wouldnot merely achieve independence, but also a power that would growlike the vegetation of its genial climate, and extend until thetapering Isthmus of Panama became the national boundary of theempire. But what part would be taken by this strange son who seemedequally endowed with graceful indolence and indomitable will? Werehis tireless strength and energy to accomplish nothing better thanthe climbing of distant mountains? and would he maintain indifferencetowards a struggle for a dominion beyond Oriental dreams? Physicallyand mentally he seemed capable of doing what he chose; practicallyhe chose to do what he pleased from hour to hour. Amusing himselfwith a languid, good-natured disregard of what he looked upon astrivial affairs, he was like adamant the moment a supreme and justadvantage was his. He was her husband over agaim, with strangedifferences. What could she do at the present moment but the thingshe proposed to do? "Willard, " she said, slowly, and in a voice that pierced hisindifference, "have you any regard for me?" "Certainly. Have I shown any want of respect?" "That is not the question at all. You are young, Willard, and youlive in the future. I live much in the past. My early home was inthe South, where my family, for generations, has been eminent. Isit strange, then, that I should love that sunny land?" "No, mamma. " "Well, all I ask at present is that you will promise me never, under any motive, to take up arms against that land of my ancestors. " "I have not the slightest disposition to do so. " "Willard, what to-day is, is. Neither you nor I know what shall beon the morrow. I never expected to marry a Northern man, yet I didso; nor should I regret it if I consulted my heart only. He wasdifferent from all his race. I did not foresee what was coming, or I could have torn my heart out before involving myself in theseNorthern complications. I cannot change the past, but I must providefor the future. O Willard, to your eyes your Northern fortune seemslarge. But a few years will pass before you will be shown whata trifle it is compared with the prizes of power and wealth thatwill be bestowed upon loyal Southerners. You have an ancestry, anability, that would naturally place you among the foremost. Terribleas would be the sacrifice on my part, I could still give you myblessing if you imitated young Strahan in one respect, and devotedyourself heart, soul, and sword to our cause. " "The probable result would be that you and my sisters wouldbe penniless, I sleeping in mud, and living on junk and hoe-cake. Another result, probable, only a little more remote, is that thebuzzards would pick my bones. Faugh! Oh, no. I've settled thatquestion, and it's a bore to think a question over twice. Thereare thousands of Americans in Europe. Their wisdom suits me untilthis tea-pot tempest is over. If any one doubts my courage I'llprove it fast enough, but, if I had my way, the politicians, Northand South, should do their own fighting and starving. " "But, Willard, our leaders are not mere politicians. They are menof grand, far-reaching schemes, and when their plans are accomplished, they will attain regal power and wealth. " "Visions, mamma, visions. I have enough of my father's blood inmy veins to be able to look at both sides of a question. Strahanasked me severely if I did not read the papers;" and he laughedlightly. "Well, I do read them, at least enough of them to pickout a few grains of truth from all the chaff. The North and Southhave begun fighting like two bull-dogs, and it's just a questionwhich has the longer wind and the more endurance. The chances areall in favor of the North. I shall not throw myself and propertyaway for the sake of a bare possibility. That's settled. " "Have you ice-water in your veins?" his mother asked, passionately. "I have your blood, madam, and my father's, hence I am what I am. " "Well, then you must be a man of honor, of your word. Will youpromise never to take arms against the South?" "I have told you I have no disposition to do so. " "The promise, then, can cost you little, and it will be a reliefto my mind. " "Oh, well, mamma, if it will make you feel any easier, I promisewith one exception. Both South and North must keep their hands offthe property my father gave me. " "If Southern leaders were dictating terms in New York City, as theywill, ere long, they would never touch your property. " "They had better not. " "You know what I mean, Willard. I ask you never to assume thishated Northern uniform, or put your foot on Southern soil with ahostile purpose. " "Yes, I can promise that. " "Swear it to me then, by your mother's honor and your father'smemory. " "Is not my word sufficient?" "These things are sacred to me, and I wish them treated in a sacredmanner. If you will do this my mind will be at rest and I may beable to do more for you in the future. " "To satisfy you, I swear never to put on the Northern uniform orto enter the South with a hostile purpose. " She stepped forward and touched his forehead with her lips, as shesaid: "The compact is sealed. Your oath is registered on earth andin heaven. Your simple word as a man of honor will satisfy me asto one other request. I wish you never to speak to any one of thissolemn covenant between us. " "I'm not in the habit of gossiping over family affairs, " he replied, haughtily. "I know that, and also that your delicacy of feeling would keepyou from speaking of a matter so sacred to me. But I am older andmore experienced than you, and I shall feel safer if you promise. You would not gossip about it, of course. You might refer to itto some friend or to the woman who became your wife. I can foreseecomplications which might make it better that it should be utterlyunknown. You little know how I dream and plan for you, and I onlyask you never to speak of this interview and its character to aliving soul. " "Certainly, mother, I can promise this. I should feel it smallbusiness to babble about anything which you take so to heart. Thesevisions of empire occupy your mind and do no harm. I only hope youwill meet your disappointment philosophically. Good-by now tilllunch. " "Poor mamma!" thought the young man, as he started out for a walk;"she rails against Northern fanatics, forgetting tnat it is justpossible to be a little fanatical on the Southern side of the line. " As he strode along in the sunshine his oath weighed upon him nomore than if he had promised not to go out in his sail-boat thatday. At last, after surmounting a rather steep hill, he threw himselfon the grass under the shade of a tree. "It's going to be awfullyslow and stupid here, " he muttered, "and it will be a month ortwo before we can return. I hoped to be back in time to join theMontagues in climbing Mont Blanc, and here I am tied up betweenthese mole-hill mountains and city law-offices. How shall I everget through with the time?" A pony-phaeton, containing two ladies, appeared at the foot ofthe hill and slowly approached. His eyes rested on it in languidindifference, but, as it drew nearer, the younger of the two ladiesfixed his attention. Her charming summer costume at first satisfiedhis taste, and, as her features became distinct, he was surprisedat their beauty, as he thought at first; but he soon felt thatanimation redeemed the face from mere prettiness. The young girlwas talking earnestly, but a sudden movement of the horse causedher to glance toward the road-side, and she encountered the darkeyes of a stranger. Her words ceased instantly. A slight frowncontracted her brow, and, touching her horse with her whip, shepassed on rapidly. "By Jove! Strahan is right. If I have many such countrywomen inthe neighborhood, I ought to find amusement. " He rose and sauntered after the phaeton, and saw that it turned inat a pretty little cottage, embowered in vines and trees. Making amental note of the locality, he bent his steps in another direction, laughing as he thought: "From that one glance I am sure that thoseblue eyes will kindle more than one fellow before they are quenched. I wonder if Strahan knows her. Well, here, perhaps, is a chancefor a summer lark. If Strahan is enamored I'd like to cut him out, for by all the fiends of dulness I must find something to do. " Strahan had accepted an invitation to lunch at the Vosburghs' thatday, and arrived, hot and flushed, from his second morning's drill. "Well!" he exclaimed, "I've seen the great Mogul. " "I believe I have also, " replied Marian. "Has he not short andslightly curly hair, dark eyes, and an impudent stare?" "I don't recognize the 'stare' exactly. Merwyn is polite enoughin his way, and confound his way! But the rest of your descriptiontallies. Where did you see him?" She explained. "That was he, accomplishing his usual day's work. O ye dogs of war!how I would like to have him in my squad one of these July days!Miss Marian, I'd wear your shoe-tie in my cap the rest of my life, if you would humble that fellow and make him feel that he neverspoke to a titled lady abroad who had not her equal in some Americangirl. It just enrages me to see a New-York man, no better born thanmyself, putting on such superior and indifferent airs. If he'd cometo me and say, 'Strahan, I'm a rebel, I'm going to fight and killyou if I can, ' I'd shake hands with him as I did not to-day. I'dtreat him like a jolly, square fellow, until we came face to facein a fair fight, and then--the fortune of war. As it was, I feltlike taking him by the collar and shaking him out of his languidgrace. He told me to mind my own business so politely that Icouldn't take offence, although he gave scarcely any other reasonthan that he proposed to mind his. When I met his Southern motheron the piazza, she looked at me in my uniform at first as if I hadbeen a toad. They are rebels at heart, and yet they stand aloof andsneer at the North, from which they derive protection and revenue. I made his eyes flash once though, " chuckled the young fellow inconclusion. Marian laughed heartily as she said: "Mr. Strahan, if you fightas well as you talk, I foresee Southern reverses. You have no ideahow your indignation becomes you. 'As well-born, ' did you say? Why, my good friend, you are worth a wilderness of such lackadaisicalfellows. Ciphers don't count unless they stand after a significantfigure; neither do such men, unless stronger men use them. " "Your arithmetic is at fault, Miss Marian. Ciphers do have thepower of pushing a significant figure way back to the right ofthe decimal point, and, as a practical fact, these elegant humanciphers usually stand before good men and true in society. I don'tbelieve it would be so with you, but few of us would stand a chancewith most girls should this rich American, with his foreign airsand graces, enter the lists against us. " In her sincerity and earnestness, she took his hand and said: "Ithank you for your tribute. You are right. Though this person hadthe wealth of the Indies, and every external grace, he could not bemy friend unless he were a MAN. I've talked with papa a good deal, and believe there are men in the Southern army just as honest andpatriotic as you are; but no cold-blooded, selfish betwixt-and-betweensshall ever take my hand. " "Make me a promise, " cried Strahan, giving the hand he held a heartyand an approving shake. "Well?" "If opportunity offers, make this fellow bite the dust. " "We'll see about that. I may not think it worth the while, and Icertainly shall not compromise myself in the slightest degree. " "But if I bring him here you will be polite to him?" "Just about as polite as he was to you, I imagine. " "Miss Marian, I wouldn't have any harm come to you for the wideworld. If--if anything should turn out amiss I'd shoot him, Icertainly would. " The girl's only answer was a merry peal of laughter. CHAPTER XII. "A VOW. " BENT, as was Strahan, upon his scheme of disturbing Merwyn's prideand indifference, he resolved to permit several days to pass beforerepeating his call. He also, as well as Marian, was unwillingto compromise himself beyond a certain point, and it was his hopethat he might receive a speedy visit. He was not disappointed, foron the ensuing day Merwyn sauntered up the Strahan avenue, and, learning that the young officer had gone to camp, followed himthither. The cold glance from the fair stranger in the phaeton dweltin his memory, and he was pleased to find that it formed sufficientincentive to action. Strahan saw him coming with a grim smile, but greeted him withoff-hand cordiality. "Sorry, Merwyn, " he said, "I can give you onlya few moments before I go on duty. " "You are not on duty evenings?" "Yes, every other evening. " "How about to-night?" "At your service. " "Are you acquainted with the people who reside at a cottage--" andhe described Marian's abode. "Yes. " "Who are they?" "Mr. Vosburgh has rented the place as a summer residence for hisfamily. His wife and daughter are there usually, and he comes whenhe can. "And the daughter's name?" "Miss Marian Vosburgh. " "Will you introduce me to her?" "Certainly. " "I sha'n't be poaching on your grounds, shall I?" "Miss Vosburgh honors me with her friendship, --nothing more. " "Is it so great an honor?" "I esteem it as such. " "Who are they, anyway?" "Well, as a family I regard them as my equals, and Miss Marian asmy superior. " "Oh come, Strahan, gossip about them a little. " The officer burst out laughing. "Well, " he said, "for a man of yourphenomenal reticence you are asking a good many questions. " Merwyn colored slightly and blundered: "You know my motive, Strahan;one does not care to make acquaintances that are not quite--" andthen the expression of his host's eyes checked him. "I assure you the Vosburghs are 'QUITE, '" Strahan said, coldly. "DidI not say they were my equals? You may esteem yourself fortunateif Miss Vosburgh ever permits you to feel yourself to be her equal. " "Why, how so?" a little irritably. "Because if a man has brains and discernment the more he sees ofher the more will he be inclined to doubt his equality. " Merwyn smiled in a rather superior way, and, with a light laugh, said: "I understand, Strahan. A man in your plight ought to feelin that way; at least, it is natural that he should. Now see here, old fellow, I'll keep aloof if you say so. " "Why should you? You have seen few society queens abroad whoreceived so much and so varied homage as Miss Vosburgh. There arehalf a dozen fellows there, more or less, every evening, and youcan take your chances among them. " "Oh, she's a bit of a coquette, then?" "You must discover for yourself what she is, " said the young man, buckling on his sword. "She has my entire respect. " "You quite pique my curiosity. I'll drive in for you this evening. " At the hour appointed, Strahan, in civilian's dress, stepped intoMerwyn's carriage and was driven rapidly to the cottage. Throwingthe reins to a footman, the young fellow followed the officer with aconfidence not altogether well founded, as he soon learned. Manyguests were present, and Lane was among them. When Merwyn waspresented Marian was observed to bow merely and not give her hand, as was her custom when a friend of hers introduced a friend. Someof the residents in the vicinity exchanged significant smileswhen they saw that the fastidious and exclusive Willard Merwyn hadjoined their circle. Mrs. Vosburgh, who was helping to entertainthe guests, recognized nothing in his presence beyond a new socialtriumph for her daughter, and was very gracious. To her offices, as hostess, he found himself chiefly relegated for a time. This suited him exactly, since it gave him a chance for observation;and certainly the little drawing-room, with its refined freedom, was a revelation to him. Conversation, repartee, and jest wereunrestrained. While Lane was as gay as any present, Merwyn wasmade to feel that he was no ordinary man, and it soon came out inthe natural flow of talk that he, too, was in the service. Merwynwas introduced also to a captain of the regular army, and, whateverbe might think of these people, he instinctively felt that theywould no more permit themselves to be patronized than would the sonsof noble houses abroad. Indeed, he was much too adroit to attemptanything of the kind, and, with well-bred ease, made himself athome among them in general conversation. Meanwhile, he watched Marian with increasing curiosity. To him shewas a new and very interesting type. He had seen no such vivacityand freedom abroad, and his experience led him to misunderstandher. "She is of the genus American girl, middle class, " he thought, "who, by her beauty and the unconventionality of her drawing-room, has become a quasi-belle. None of these men would think of marryingher, unless it is little Strahan, and he wouldn't five years hence. Yet she is piquant and fascinating after her style, a word and ajest for each and all, and spoken with a sort of good-comradeship, rather than with an if-you-please-sir air. I must admit, however, that there is nothing loud in tone, word, or manner. She is asdelicate and refined as her own beauty, and, although this ratherflorid mamma is present as chaperon, the scene and the actors arepeculiarly American. Well, I owe Strahan a good turn. I can amusemyself with this girl without scruple. " At last he found an opportunity to say, "We have met once before, I believe, Miss Vosburgh. " "Met? Where?" "Where I was inclined to go to sleep, and you gave me such a charmingfrown that I awakened immediately and took a long ramble. " "I saw a person stretched at lazy length under the trees yesterday. You know the horror ladies have of intoxicated men on the road-side. " "Was that the impression I made? Thanks. " "The impression made was that we had better pass as quickly aspossible. " "You made a very different impression. Thanks to Strahan I am herethis evening in consequence, and am delighted that I came. " "'Delighted' is a strong word, Mr. Merwyn. Now that we are speakingof impressions, mine is that years have elapsed since you weregreatly delighted at anything. " "What gives you such an impression?" "Women can never account for their intuitions. " "Women? Do not use such an elderly word in regard to one appearingas if just entering girlhood. " "O Mr. Merwyn! have you not learned abroad that girls of my ageare elderly indeed compared with men of yours?" He bit his lip. "English girls are not so--" "Fast?" "I didn't say that. They certainly have not the vivacity andfascination that I am discovering in your drawing-room. " "Why, Mr. Merwyn! one would think you had come to America on a voyageof discovery, and were surprised at the first thing you saw. " "I think I could show you things abroad that would interest you. " "All Europe could not tempt me to go abroad at this time. In yourestimation I am not even a woman, --only a girl, and yet I have enoughgirlhood to wish to take my little part in the events of the day. " He colored, but asked, quietly, "What part are you taking?" "Such questions, " she replied, with a merry, half-mocking flash ofher eyes, "I answer by deeds. There are those who know;" and then, being addressed by Mr. Lane, she turned away, leaving him withconfused, but more decided sensations than he had known for a longtime. His first impulse was to leave the house, but this course wouldonly subject him to ridicule on the part of those who remained. After a moment or two of reflection he remembered that she had notinvited him, and that she had said nothing essentially rude. He hadmerely chosen to occupy a position in regard to his country thatdiffered radically from hers, and she had done little more thandefine her position. "She is a Northern, as mamma is a Southern fanatic, with thedifference that she is a young, effervescing creature, bubblingover with the excitement of the times, " he thought. "That fellow inuniform, and the society of men like Strahan and Lane, haye turnedher head, and she has not seen enough of life to comprehend a manof the world. What do I care for her, or any here? Her briery talkshould only amuse me. When she learns more about who I am and whatI possess she will be inclined to imitate her discreet mamma andthink of the main chance; meanwhile I escape a summer's dulnessand ennui;" and so he philosophically continued his observationsand chatted with Mrs. Vosburgh and others until, with Strahan, hetook his departure, receiving from Marian a bow merely, while toStrahan she gave her hand cordially. "You seem to be decidedly in Miss Vosburgh's good graces, " saidMerwyn, as they drove away. "I told you she was my friend. " "Is it very difficult to become her friend?" "Well, that depends. You should not find it difficult, since youare so greatly my superior. " "Oh, come, Strahan. " "Pardon me, I forgot I was to express only my own thoughts, notyours. " "You don't know my thoughts or circumstances. Come now, let us begood comrades. I will begin by thanking you cordially for introducing meto a charming young girl. I am sure I put on no airs this evening. " "They would not have been politic, Merwyn, and, for the life ofme, I can see no reason for them. " "Very well. Therefore you didn't see any. How like old times weare! We were always together, yet always sparring a little. " "You must take us as we are in these times, " said Strahan, with alight laugh, for he felt it would jeopardize his scheme, or hoperather, if he were too brusque with his companion. "You see it ishard for us to understand your cosmopolitan indifference. Americanfeeling just now is rather tense on both sides of the line, and ifyou will recognize the fact you will understand us better. " "I think I am already aware of the fact. If Miss Vosburgh were ofour sex you would soon have another recruit. " "I'd soon have a superior officer, you mean. " "I fancy you are rather under her thumb already. " "It's a difficult position to attain, I assure you. " "How so?" "I have observed that, towards a good many, Miss Vosburgh is quiteyour equal in indifference. " "I like her all the better for that fact. " "So do I. " "How is it that you are so favored?" "No doubt it seems strange to you. Mere caprice on her part, probably. " "You misunderstand me. I would like to learn your tactics. " "Jove! I'd like to teach you. Come down to-morrow and I'll giveyou a musket. " "You are incorrigible, Strahan. Do you mean that her good-will canbe won only at the point of the bayonet?" "No one coached me. Surely you have not so neglected your educationabroad that you do not know how to win a lady's favor. " "You are a neutral, indeed. " "I wouldn't aid my own brother in a case of this kind. " "You are right; in matters of this kind it is every one for himself. You offered to show me, a stranger, some attention, you know. " "Yes, Merwyn, and I'll keep my word. I will give you just as goodcourtesy as I receive. The formalities have been complied with andyou are acquainted with Miss Vosburgh. You have exactly the samevantage that I had at the start, and you certainly cannot wish formore. If you wish for further introductions, count on me. " Merwyn parted from his plain-spoken companion, well content. Strahan's promise to return all the courtesy he received left avariable standard in Merwyn's hands that he could employ accordingto circumstances or inclination. He was satisfied that his neighbor, in accordance with a trait very common to young men, cherished forMiss Vosburgh a chivalric and sentimental regard at which he wouldsmile when he became older. Merwyn, however, had a certain senseof honor, and would not have attempted deliberately to supplant oneto whom he felt that he owed loyalty. His mind having been relievedof all scruples of this character, he looked forward complacentlyto the prospect of winning--what? He did not trouble himself to definethe kind of regard he hoped to inspire. The immediate purpose tokill time, that must intervene before he could return to England, was sufficient. There was promise of occupation, mild excitement, and an amusing triumph, in becoming the foremost figure in Marian'sdrawing-room. There is scarcely need to dwell upon the events of a few subsequentweeks and the gradual changes that were taking place. Life withits small vicissitudes rarely results from deliberate action. Circumstances, from day to day, color and shape it; yet beneaththe rippling, changing surface a great tide may be rising. Strahanwas succeeding fairly well in his recruiting service, and, makingallowances for his previous history, was proving an efficientofficer. Marian was a loyal, steadfast friend, reprimanding withmirthful seriousness at times, and speaking earnest and encouragingwords at others. After all, the mercurial young fellow daily won herincreased respect and esteem. He had been promoted to a captaincy, and such was the response of the loyal North, during that drearysummer of disaster and confused counsels, that his company was nearlyfull, and he was daily expecting orders for departure. His drillground had become the occasional morning resort of his friends, andeach day gave evidence of improved soldierly bearing in his men. Merwyn thus far had characteristically carried out his plans to"kill time. " Thoroughly convinced of his comparative superiority, he had been good-naturedly tolerant of the slow recognition accordedto it by Marian. Yet he believed he was making progress, and thefact that her favor was hard to win was only the more incitement. If she had shown early and decided preference his occupation wouldhave been gone; for what could he have done in those initiatoryweeks of their acquaintance if her eyes and tones had said, "I amready to take you and your wealth"? The attitude she maintained, although little understood, awakened a kind of respect, while thebarriers she quietly interposed aroused a keener desire to surmountthem. By hauteur and reserve at times he had made those with whomhe associated feel that his position in regard to the civil conflictwas his own affair. Even Marian avoided the subject when talkingwith him, and her mother never thought of mentioning it. Indeed, that thrifty lady would have been rather too encouraging had nother daughter taken pains to check such a spirit. At the same timethe young girl made it emphatically understood that discussion ofthe events of the war should be just as free when he was presentas when he was absent. Yet in a certain sense he was making progress, in that he awakenedanger on her part, rather than indifference. If she was a new typeto him so was he to her, and she found her thoughts reverting to himin hostile analysis of his motives and character. She had receivedtoo much sincere homage and devotion not to detect something cynicaland hollow in his earlier attentions. She had seen glances towardher mother, and had caught in his tones an estimate which, howevertrue, incensed her greatly. Her old traits began to assert themselves, and gradually her will accorded with Strahan's hope. If, withoutcompromising herself, she could humble this man, bringing him toher feet and dismissing him with a rather scornful refusal, such anexertion of power would give her much satisfaction. Yet her pride, as well as her principle, led her to determine that he should suewithout having received any misleading favor on her part. Merwyn had never proposed to sue at all, except in the way ofconventional gallantry. For his own amusement he had resolved tobecome her most intimate and familiar friend, and then it wouldbe time to go abroad. If false hopes were raised it would not muchmatter; Strahan or some one else would console her. He admittedthat his progress was slow, and her reserve hard to combat. Shewould neither drive nor sail with him unless she formed one of aparty. Still in this respect he was on the same footing with herbest friends. One thing did trouble him, however; she had nevergiven him her hand, either in greeting or in parting. At last he brought about an explanation that disturbed his equanimitynot a little. He had called in the morning, and she had chattedcharmingly with him on impersonal matters, pleasing him by herintelligent and gracefully spoken ideas on the topics broached. As a society girl she met him on this neutral ground without theslightest restraint or embarrassment. As he also talked well she hadno scruple in enjoying a pleasure unsought by herself, especiallyas it might lead to the punishment which she felt that he deserved. Smilingly she had assured herself, when he was announced, "If he'sa rebel at heart, as I've been told, I've met the enemy beforeeither Mr. Lane or Mr. Strahan. " When Merwyn rose to take his leave he held out his hand and said:"I shall be absent two or three days. In saying good-by won't youshake hands?" She laughingly put her hands behind her back and said, "I can't. " "Will not, you mean?" "No, I cannot. I've made a vow to give my hand only to my ownfriends and those of my country. " "Do you look upon me as an enemy?" "Oh, no, indeed. " "Then not as a friend?" "Why, certainly not, Mr. Merwyn. You know that you are not myfriend. What does the word mean?" "Well, " said he, flushing, "what does it mean?" "Nothing more to me than to any other sincere person. One usesdownright sincerity with a friend, and would rather harm himselfthan that friend. " "Why is not this my attitude towards you?" "You, naturally, should know better than I. " "Indeed, Miss Vosburgh, you little know the admiration you haveexcited, " he said, gallantly. An inscrutable smile was her only response. "That, however, has become like the air you breathe, no doubt. " "Not at all. I prize admiration. What woman does not? But thereare as many kinds of admiration as there are donors. " "Am I to infer that mine is of a valueless nature?" "Ask yourself, Mr. Merwyn, just what it is worth. " "It is greater than I have ever bestowed upon any one else, " hesaid, hastily; for this tilt was disturbing his self-possession. Again she smiled, and her thought was, "Except yourself. " He, thinking her smile incredulous, resumed: "You doubt this?" "I cannot help thinking that you are mistaken. " "How can I assure you that I am not?" "I do not know. Why is it essential that I should be so assured?" He felt that he was being worsted, and feared that she had detectedthe absence of unselfish good-will and honest purpose toward her. Hewas angry with himself and her because of the dilemma in which hewas placed. Yet what could he say to the serene, smiling girl beforehim, whose unflinching blue eyes looked into his with a keennessof insight that troubled him? His one thought now was to achievea retreat in which he could maintain the semblance of dignity andgood breeding. With a light and deferential laugh he said: "I am taught, unmistakably, Miss Vosburgh, that my regard, whatever it may be, is of littleconsequence to you, and that it would be folly for me to try toprove a thing that would not interest you if demonstrated. I feel, however, that one question is due to us both, --Is my society adisagreeable intrusion?" "If it had been, Mr. Merwyn, you would have been aware of the factbefore this. I have enjoyed your conversation this morning. " "I hope, then, that in the future I can make a more favorableimpression, and that in time you will give me your hand. " Her blue eyes never left his face as he spoke, and they grew darkwith a meaning that perplexed and troubled him. She merely bowedgravely and turned away. Never had his complacency been so disturbed. He walked homeward withsteps that grew more and more rapid, keeping pace with his swift, perturbed thoughts. As he approached his residence he yielded toan impulse; leaped a wall, and struck out for the mountains. CHAPTER XIII. A SIEGE BEGUN. "EITHER she is seeking to enhance her value, or else she is not thegirl I imagined her to be at all, " was Willard Merwyn's conclusionas he sat on a crag high upon the mountain's side. "Whicheversupposition is true, I might as well admit at once that she is themost fascinating woman I ever met. She IS a woman, as she claims tobe. I've seen too many mere girls not to detect their transparentdeceits and motives at once. I don't understand Marian Vosburgh;I only half believe in her, but I intend to learn whether there isa girl in her station who would unhesitatingly decline the wealthand position that I can offer. Not that I have decided to offerthese as yet, by any means, for I am in a position to marry wealthand rank abroad; but this girl piques my curiosity, stirs my blood, and is giving wings to time. At this rate the hour of our departuremay come before I am ready for it. I was mistaken in one respectthe first evening I met her. Lane, as well as Strahan and others, would marry her if they could. She might make her choice from almostany of those who seek her society, and she is not the pretty littleBohemian that I imagined. Either none of them has ever touched herheart, or else she knows her value and vantage, and she means tomake the most of them. If she knew the wealth and position I couldgive her immediately, would not these certainties bring a differentexpression into her eyes? I am not an ogre, that she should shrinkfrom me as the only incumbrance. " Could he have seen the girl's passion after he left her he wouldhave understood her dark look at their parting. Hastily seekingher own room she locked the door to hide the tears of anger andhumiliation that would come. "Well, " she cried, "I AM punished for trifling with others. Hereis a man who seeks me in my home for no other purpose than his ownamusement and the gratification of his curiosity. He could not denyit when brought squarely to the issue. He could not look me in theeyes and say that he was my honest friend. He would flirt with me, if he could, to beguile his burdensome leisure; but when I definedwhat some are to me, and more would be, if permitted, he found nobetter refuge than gallantry and evasion. What can he mean? whatcan he hope except to see me in his power, and ready to accept anyterms he may choose to offer? O Arthur Strahan! your wish now iswholly mine. May I have the chance of rejecting this man as I neverdismissed one before!" It must not be supposed that Willard's frequent visits to theVosburgh cottage had escaped Mrs. Merwyn's vigilant solicitude, buther son spoke of them in such a way that she obtained the correctimpression that he was only amusing himself. Her chief hope wasthat her son would remain free until the South had obtained thepower it sought. Then an alliance with one of the leading familiesin the Confederacy would accomplish as much as might have resultedfrom active service during the struggle. She had not hesitated toexpress this hope to him. He had smiled, and said: "One of the leading theories of the day isthe survival of the fittest. I am content to limit my theory to asurvival. If I am alive and well when your great Southern empire takesthe lead among nations there will be a chance for the fulfilmentof your dream. If I have disappeared beneath Southern mud therewon't be any chance. In my opinion, however, I should have tenfoldgreater power with our Southern friends if I introduced to them anEnglish heiress. " His mother had sighed and thought: "It is strange that thiscalculating boy should be my son. His father was self-controlledand resolute, but he never manifested such cold-blooded thought ofself, first and always. " She did not remember that the one lesson taught him from hisvery cradle had been that of self-pleasing. She had carried outher imperious will where it had clashed with his, and had weaklycompensated him by indulgence in the trifles that make up a child'slife. SHE had never been controlled or made to yield to others inthoughtful consideration of their rights and feelings, and did notknow how to instil the lesson; therefore--so inconsistent is humannature--when she saw him developing her own traits, she was troubledbecause his ambitions differed from her own. Had his hopes anddesires coincided with hers he would have been a model youth inher eyes, although never entertaining a thought beyond personal andfamily advantage. Apparently there was a wider distinction betweenthem, for she was capable of suffering and sacrifice for the South. The possibilities of his nature were as yet unrevealed. His course and spirit, however, set her at rest in regard to hisvisits to Marian Vosburgh, and she felt that there was scarcelythe slightest danger that he would compromise himself by seriousattentions to the daughter of an obscure American official. Willard returned from his brief absence, and was surprised at hiseager anticipation of another interview with Marian. He calledthe morning after his arrival, and learning that she had just goneto witness a drill of Strahan's company, he followed, and arrivedalmost as soon as she did at the ground set apart for militaryevolutions. He was greeted by Marian in her old manner, and by Strahan inhis off-hand way. The young officer was at her side, and a numberof ladies and gentlemen were present as spectators. Merwyn took acamp-stool, sat a little apart, and nonchalantly lighted a cigar. Suddenly there was a loud commotion in the guard-house, accompaniedby oaths and the sound of a struggle. Then a wild figure, armed witha knife, rushed toward Strahan, followed by a sergeant and two orthree privates. At a glance it was seen to be the form of a tall, powerful soldier, half-crazed with liquor. "--you!" exclaimed the man; "you ordered me to be tied up. I'lllarn you that we ain't down in Virginny yet!" and there was recklessmurder in his bloodshot eyes. Although at that moment unarmed, Strahan, without a second's hesitation, sprung at the man's throat and sought to catch his uplifted hand, but could not reach it. The probabilities are that the youngofficer's military career would have been ended in another second, had not Merwyn, without removing his cigar from his mouth, caughtthe uplifted arm and held it as in a vise. "Stand back, Strahan, " he said, quietly; but the young fellow wouldnot loosen his hold. Therefore Merwyn, with his left hand upon thecollar of the soldier, jerked him a yard away, and tripped him upso that he fell upon his face. Twisting the fellow's hands acrosshis back, Merwyn said to the sergeant, "Now tie him at your leisure. " This was done almost instantly, and the foul mouth was also stoppedby a gag. Merwyn returned to his camp-stool, and coolly removed the cigarfrom his mouth as he glanced towards Marian. Although white andagitated, she was speaking eager, complimentary, and at the sametime soothing words to Strahan, who, in accordance with his excitablenature, was in a violent passion. She did not once glance towardsthe man who had probably saved her friend's life, but Strahan cameand shook hands with him cordially, saying: "It was handsomely andbravely done, Merwyn. I appreciate the service. You ought to be anofficer, for you could make a good one, --a better one than I am, for you are as cool as a cucumber. " Others, also, would have congratulated Merwyn had not his mannerrepelled them, and in a few moments the drill began. Long beforeit was over Marian rose and went towards her phaeton. In a momentMerwyn was by her side. "You are not very well, Miss Vosburgh, " he said. "Let me drive youhome. " She bowed her acquiescence, and he saw that she was pale and alittle faint; but by a visible effort she soon rallied, and talkedon indifferent subjects. At last she said, abruptly: "I am learning what war means. It wouldseem that there is almost as much danger in enforcing disciplineon such horrible men as in facing the enemy. " "Of course, " said Merwyn, carelessly. "That is part of the risk. " "Well, " she continued, emphatically, "I never saw a braver act thanthat of Mr. Strahan. He was unarmed. " "I was also!" was the somewhat bitter reply, "and you did not eventhank me by a look for saving your friend from a bad wound to saythe least. " "I beg your pardon, Mr. Merwyn, you were armed with a strengthwhich made your act perfectly safe. Mr. Strahan risked everything. " "How could he help risking everything? The infuriated beast wascoming towards you as well as him. Could he have run away? You arenot just to me, or at least you are very partial" "One can scarcely help being partial towards one's friends. Iagree with you, however; Mr. Strahan could not have taken any othercourse. Could you, with a friend in such peril?" "Certainly not, with any one in such peril. Let us say no moreabout the trifle. " She was silent a moment, and then said, impetuously: "You shallnot misunderstand me. I don't know whether I am unjust or not. I doknow that I was angered, and cannot help it. You may as well knowmy thoughts. Why should Mr. Strahan and others expose themselvesto such risks and hardships while you look idly on, when you soeasily prove yourself able to take a man's part in the struggle?You may think, if you do not say it, that it is no affair of mine;but with my father, whom I love better than life, ready at anymoment to give his life for a cause, I cannot patiently see utterindifference to that cause in one who seeks my society. " "I think your feelings are very natural, Miss Vosburgh, nor doI resent your censure. You are surrounded by influences that leadyou to think as you do. You can scarcely judge for me, however. Be fair and just. I yield to you fully--I may add, patiently--theright to think, feel, and act as you think best. Grant equal rightsto me. " "Oh, certainly, " she said, a little coldly; "each one must choosehis own course for life. " "That must ever be true, " he replied, "and it is well to rememberthat it is for life. The present condition of affairs is temporary. It is the hour of excited impulses rather than of cool judgment. Ambitious men on both sides are furthering their own purposes atthe cost of others. " "Is that your idea of the war, Mr. Merwyn?" she asked, lookingsearchingly into his face. "It is indeed, and time will prove me right, you will discover. " "Since this is your view, I can scarcely wonder at your course, "she said, so quietly that he misunderstood her, and felt that shehalf conceded its reasonableness. Then she changed the subject, nor did she revert to it in his society. As August drew to its close, Marian's circle shared the feverishsolicitude felt in General Pope's Virginia campaign. Throughoutthe North there was a loyal response to the appeal for men, andStrahan's company was nearly full. He expected at any hour theorders which would unite the regiment at Washington. One morning Mr. Lane came to say good-by. It was an impressivehour which he spent with Marian when bidding her perhaps a finalfarewell. She was pale, and her attempts at mirthfulness were forcedand feeble. When he rose to take his leave she suddenly coveredher face with her hand, and burst into tears. "Marian!" he exclaimed, eagerly, for the deep affection in hisheart would assert itself at times, and now her emotion seemed towarrant hope. "Wait, " she faltered. "Do not go just yet. " He took her unresisting hand and kissed it, while she stifled hersobs. "Miss Marian, " he began, "you know how wholly I am yours--" "Please do not misunderstand me, " she interrupted. "I scarcelyknow how I could feel differently if I were parting with my twinbrother. You have been such a true, generous friend! Oh, I am allunstrung. Papa has been sent for from Washington, and we don't knowwhen he'll return or what service may be required of him. I onlyknow that he is like you, and will take any risk that duty seemsto demand. I have so learned to lean upon you and trust you that ifanything happened--well, I felt that I could go to you as a brother. You are too generous to blame me that I cannot feel in any otherway. See, I am frank with you. Why should I not be when the futureis so uncertain? Is it a little thing that I should think of youfirst and feel that I shall miss you most when I am so distraughtwith anxiety?" "No, Miss Marian. To me it is a sacred thing. I want you to knowthat you have a brother's hand and heart at your disposal. " "I believe you. Come, " she added, rising and dashing away hertears, "I must be brave, as you are. Promise me that you will takeno risks beyond those required by duty, and that you will write tome. " "Marian, " he said, in a low, deep voice, "I shall ever try to dowhat, in your heart, you would wish. You must also promise that ifyou are ever in trouble you will let me know. " "I promise. " He again kissed her hand, like a knight of the olden time. At the last turn of the road from which he was visible she wavedher handkerchief, then sought her room and burst into a passion oftears. "Oh, " she sobbed, "as I now feel I could not refuse him anything. I may never see him again, and he has been so kind and generous!" The poor girl was indeed morbid from excitement and anxiety. Herpale face began to give evidence of the strain which the timesimposed on her in common with all those whose hearts had much atstake in the conflict. In vain her mother remonstrated with her, and told her that she was"meeting trouble half-way. " Once the sagacious lady had venturedto suggest that much uncertainty might be taken out of the futureby giving more encouragement to Mr. Merwyn. "I am told that he isalmost a millionnaire in his own right, " she said. "What is he in his own heart and soul?" had been the girl's indignantanswer. "Don't speak to me in that way again, mamma. " Meanwhile Merwyn was a close observer of all that was taking place, and was coming to what he regarded as an heroic resolution. Exceptas circumstances evoked an outburst of passion, he yielded to habit, and coolly kept his eye on the main chances of his life, and thesemeant what he craved most. Two influences had been at work upon his mind during the summer. One resulted from his independent possession of large property. Hehad readily comprehended the hints thrown out by his lawyer that, if he remained in New York, the times gave opportunity for arapid increase in his property, and the thought of achieving largewealth for himself, as his father had done before him, was growingin attractiveness. His indolent nature began to respond to vitalAmerican life, and he asked himself whether fortune-making in hisown land did not promise more than fortune-seeking among Englishheiresses; moreover, he saw that his mother's devotion to the Southincreased daily, and that feeling at the North was running higherand becoming more and more sharply defined. As a business man inNew York his property would be safe beyond a doubt, but if he wereabsent and affiliating with those known to be hostile to the North, dangerous complications might arise. Almost unconsciously to himself at first the second influence wasgaining daily in power. As he became convinced that Marian wasnot an ordinary girl, ready for a summer flirtation with a wealthystranger, he began to give her more serious thought, to study hercharacter, and acknowledge to himself her superiority. With everyinterview the spell of her fascination grew stronger, until at lasthe reached the conclusion which he regarded as magnanimous indeed. Waiving all questions of rank and wealth on his part he would becomea downright suitor to this fair countrywoman. It did not occur tohim that he had arrived at his benign mood by asking himself thequestion, "Why should I not please myself?" and by the oft-recurringthought: "If I marry rank and wealth abroad the lady may eventuallyremind me of her condescension. If I win great wealth here and liftthis girl to my position she will ever be devoted and subservientand I be my own master. I prefer to marry a girl that pleases mein her own personality, one who has brains as well as beauty. Whenthese military enthusiasts have disappeared below the Southernhorizon, and time hangs more heavily on her hands, she will findleisure and thought for me. What is more, the very uncertaintiesof her position, with the advice of her prudent mamma, will inclineher to the ample provision for the future which I can furnish. " Thus did Willard Merwyn misunderstand the girl he sought, so strongare inherited and perverted traits and lifelong mental habits. He knew how easily, with his birth and wealth, he could arrange amatch abroad with the high contracting powers. Mrs. Vosburgh hadimpressed him as the chief potentate of her family, and not at allaverse to his purpose. He had seen Mr. Vosburgh but once, and thequiet, reticent man had appeared to be a second-rate power. He hadalso learned that the property of the family was chiefly vested inthe wife. Of course, if Mr. Vosburgh had been in the city, Merwynwould have addressed him first, but he was absent and the time ofhis return unknown. The son knew his mother would be furious, but he had alreadydiscounted that opposition. He regarded this Southern-born lady asa very unsafe guide in these troublous times. Indeed, he cherisheda practical kind of loyalty to her and his sisters. "Only as I keep my head level, " he said to himself, "are they safe. Mamma would identify herself with the South to-day if she could, and with a woman's lack of foresight be helpless on the morrow. Let her dream her dreams and nurse her prejudices. I am my father'sson, and the responsible head of the family; and I part with nosolid advantage until I receive a better one. I shall establishmamma and the girls comfortably in England, and then return to acity where I can soon double my wealth and live a life independentof every one. " This prospect grew to be so attractive that he indulged, like Mr. Lanniere, in King Cophetua's mood, and felt that one American girlwas about to become distinguished indeed. Watching his opportunity he called upon Mrs. Vosburgh while Marianwas out of the way, formally asking her, in her husband's absence, for permission to pay his addresses; and he made known his financialresources and prospects with not a little complacent detail. Mrs. Vosburgh was dignified and gracious, enlarged on her daughter'sworth, hinted that she might be a little difficult to win byreason of the attentions she had received and her peculiar views, yet left, finally, the impression that so flattering proposalscould not be slighted. Merwyn went home with a sigh of relief. He would no longer approachMarian with doubtful and ill-defined intentions, which he believedchiefly accounted for the clever girl's coldness towards him. CHAPTER XIV. OMINOUS. SUBORDINATE only to her father and two chief friends, in Marian'sthoughts, was her enemy, for as such she now regarded Willard Merwyn. She had felt his attentions to be humiliating from the first. Theyhad presented her former life, in which her own amusement and pleasurehad been her chief thought, in another and a very disagreeablelight. These facts alone would have been sufficient to awaken avindictive feeling, for she was no saint. In addition, she bitterlyresented his indifference to a cause made so dear by her father'sdevotion and her friends' brave self-sacrifice. Whatever hismotive might be, she felt that he was cold-blooded, cowardly, ordisloyal, and such courtesy as she showed him was due to little elsethan the hope of inflicting upon him some degree of humiliation. She had seen too many manifestations of honest interest and ardentlove to credit him with any such emotion, and she had no scruplesin wounding his pride to the utmost. Meanwhile events in the bloody drama of the war were culminating. The Union officers were thought to have neither the wisdom to fightat the right time nor the discretion to retreat when fighting wasworse than useless. In consequence thousands of brave men werebelieved by many to have died in vain once more on the ill-fatedfield of Bull Run. One morning, the last of August, Strahan galloped to the Vosburghcottage and said to Marian, who met him at the door: "Orders havecome. I have but a few minutes in which to say good-by. Thingshave gone wrong in Virginia, and every available man is wanted inWashington. " His flushed face was almost as fair as her own, and gave him a boyishaspect in spite of his military dress, but unhesitating resolutionand courage beamed from his eyes. "Oh, that I were a man!" Marian cried, "and you would have company. All those who are most to me will soon be perilling their lives. " "Guess who has decided to go with me almost at the last moment. " "Mr. Blauvelt?" "Yes; I told him that he was too high-toned to carry a musket, but he said he would rather go as a private than as an officer. Hewishes no responsibility, he says, and, beyond mere routine duty, intends to give all his time and thoughts to art. I am satisfiedthat I have you to thank for this recruit. " "Indeed, I have never asked him to take part in the war. " "No need of your asking any one in set terms. A man would have tobe either a coward, or else a rebel at heart, like Merwyn, to resistyour influence. Indeed, I think it is all the stronger becauseyou do not use it openly and carelessly. Every one who comes hereknows that your heart is in the cause, and that you would have beenalmost a veteran by this time were you of our sex. Others, besidesBlauvelt, obtained the impulse in your presence which decided them. Indeed, your drawing-room has been greatly thinned, and it almostlooks as if few would be left to haunt it except Merwyn. " "I do not think he will haunt it much longer, and I should prefersolitude to his society. " "Well, " laughed Strahan, "I think you will have a chance to putone rebel to rout before I do. I don't blame you, remembering yourfeeling, but Merwyn probably saved my life, and I gave him myhand in a final truce. Friends we cannot be while he maintains hispresent cold reserve. As you told me, he said he would have doneas much for any one, and his manner since has chilled any gratefulregard on my part. Yet I am under deep obligations, and hereafterwill never do or say anything to his injury. " "Don't trouble yourself about Mr. Merwyn, Arthur. I have my ownpersonal score to settle with him. He has made a good foil foryou and my other friends, and I have learned to appreciate you themore. YOU have won my entire esteem and respect, and have taught mehow quickly a noble, self-sacrificing purpose can develop manhood. O Arthur, Heaven grant that we may all meet again! How proud Ishall then be of my veteran friends! and of you most of all. Youare triumphing over yourself, and you have won the respect of everyone in this community. " "If I ever become anything, or do anything, just enter half thecredit in your little note-book, " he said, flushing with pleasure. "I shall not need a note-book to keep in mind anything that relatesto you. Your courage has made me a braver, truer girl. Arthur, please, you won't get reckless in camp? I want to think of youalways as I think of you now. When time hangs heavy on your hands, would it give you any satisfaction to write to me?" "Indeed it will, " cried the young officer. "Let me make a suggestion. I will keep a rough journal of what occurs and of the scenes wepass through, and Blauvelt will illustrate it. How should you likethat? It will do us both good, and will be the next best thing torunning in of an evening as we have done here. " Marian was more than pleased with the idea. When at last Strahansaid farewell, he went away with every manly impulse strengthened, and his heart warmed by the evidences of her genuine regard. In the afternoon Blauvelt called, and, with Marian and her mother, drove to the station to take part in an ovation to Captain Strahanand his company. The artist had affairs to arrange in the citybefore enlisting, and proposed to enter the service at Washington. The young officer bore up bravely, but when he left his mother andsisters in tears, his face was stern with effort. Marian observed, however, that his last glance from the platform of the cars restedupon herself. She returned home depressed and nervously excited, and there found additional cause for solicitude in a letter fromher father informing her of the great disaster to Union arms whichpoor generalship had invited. This, as she then felt, would havebeen bad enough, but in a few tender, closing words, he told her thatthey might not hear from him in some time, as he had been orderedon a service that required secrecy and involved some danger. Mrs. Vosburgh was profuse in her lamentations and protests against herhusband's course, but Marian went to her room and sobbed untilalmost exhausted. Her nature, however, was too strong, positive, and unchastened tofind relief in tears, or to submit resignedly. Her heart was fullof bitterness and revolt, and her partisanship was becoming almostas intense as that of Mrs. Merwyn. The afternoon closed with a dismal rain-storm, which added to herdepression, while relieving her from the fear of callers. "O dear!"she exclaimed, as she rose from the mere form of supper, "I haveboth head-ache and heart-ache. I am going to try to get throughthe rest of this dismal day in sleep. " "Marian, do, at least, sit an hour or two with me. Some one maycome and divert your thoughts. " "No one can divert me to-night. It seems as if an age had passedsince we came here in June. " "Your father knows how alone we are in the world, with no nearrelatives to call upon. I think he owes his first duty to us. " "The men of the North, who are right, should be as ready tosacrifice everything as the men of the South, who are wrong; and soalso should Northern women. I am proud of the fact that my fatheris employed and trusted by his government. The wrong rests withthose who caused the war. " "Every man can't go and should not go. The business of the countrymust be carried on just the same, and rich business men areas important as soldiers. I only wish that, in our loneliness andwith the future so full of uncertainty, you would give sensibleencouragement to one abundantly able to give you wealth and thehighest position. " "Mr. Merwyn?" "Yes, Mr. Merwyn, " continued her mother, with an emphasis somewhatirritable. "He is not an old, worn-out millionnaire, like Mr. Lanniere. He is young, exceedingly handsome, so high-born that heis received as an equal in the houses of the titled abroad. He hascome to me like an honorable man, and asked for the privilege ofpaying his addresses. He would have asked your father had he beenin town. He was frank about his affairs, and has just received, in his own name, a very large property, which he proposes to doubleby entering upon business in New York. " "What does his mother think of his intentions toward me?" the younggirl asked, so quietly, that Mrs. Vosburgh was really encouraged. "He says that he and his mother differ on many points, and willdiffer on this one, and that is all he seemed inclined to say, except to remark significantly that he had attained his majority. " "It was he whom you meant, when you said that some one might comewho would divert my thoughts?" "I think he would have come, had it not been for the storm. " "Mamma, you have not given him any encouragement? You have notcompromised yourself, or me?" Mrs. Vosburgh bridled with the beginnings of resentment, and said, "Marian, you should know me too well--" "There, there, mamma, I was wrong to think of such a thing; I askyour pardon. " "I may have my sensible wishes and preferences, " resumed the lady, complacently, "but I have never yet acted the role of the anxious, angling mamma. I cannot help wishing, however, that you wouldconsider favorably an offer like this one, and I certainly couldnot treat Mr. Merwyn otherwise than with courtesy. " "That was right and natural of you, mamma. You have no controversywith Mr. Merwyn; I have. I hate and detest him. Well, since he maycome, I shall dress and be prepared. " "O Marian! you are so quixotic!" "Dear mamma, you are mistaken. Do not think me inconsiderate ofyou. Some day I will prove I am not by my marriage, if I marry;"and she went to her mother and kissed her tenderly. Then by a sudden transition she drew herself up with the dark, inscrutable expression that was becoming characteristic since deeperexperiences had entered into her life, and said, firmly:-- "Should I do as you suggest, I should be false to those true friendswho have gone to fight, perhaps to die; false to my father; falseto all that's good and true in my own soul. As to my heart, " sheconcluded, with a contemptuous shrug, "that has nothing to do withthe affair. Mamma, you must promise me one thing. I do not wishyou to meet Mr. Merwyn to-night. Please excuse yourself if he asksfor you. I will see him. " "Mark my words, Marian, you will marry a poor man. " "Oh, I have no objection to millionnaires, " replied the girl, with a short, unmirthful laugh, "but they must begin their suit ina manner differing from that of two who have favored me;" and shewent to her room. As Merwyn resembled his deceased parent, so Marian had inheritednot a little of her father's spirit and character. Until withinthe last few months her mother's influence had been predominant, and the young girl had reflected the social conventionalities towhich she was accustomed. No new traits had since been created. Herincreasing maturity had rendered her capable of revealing qualitiesinherent in her nature, should circumstances evoke them. The flower, as it expands, the plant as it grows, is apparently very different, yet the same. The stern, beautiful woman who is arraying herselfbefore her mirror, as a soldier assumes his arms and equipments, isthe same with the thoughtless, pleasure-loving girl whom we firstmet in her drawing-room in June; but months of deep and almosttragic experience have called into activity latent forces receivedfrom her father's soul, --his power of sustained action, of resolutepurpose, of cherishing high ideals, and of white, quiet anger. Her toilet was scarcely completed when Willard Merwyn was announced. CHAPTER XV. SCORN. IT is essential that we should go back several hours in our story. On the morning of the day that witnessed the departure of Strahanand his company Merwyn's legal adviser had arrived and had beencloseted for several hours with his client. Mr. Bodoin was extremelyconservative. Even in youth he had scarcely known any leaningstoward passion of any kind or what the world regards as folly. Histraining had developed and intensified natural characteristics, and now to preserve in security the property intrusted to hiscare through a stormy, unsettled period had become his controllingmotive. He looked upon the ups and downs of political men and measureswith what seemed to him a superior and philosophical indifference, and he was more than pleased to find in Merwyn, the son of his oldclient, a spirit so in accord with his own ideas. They had not been very long together on this fateful day before heremarked: "My dear young friend, it is exceedingly gratifying tofind that you are level-headed, like your father. He was a man, Willard, whom you do well to imitate. He secured what he wantedand had his own way, yet there was no nonsense about him. I washis intimate friend as well as legal adviser, and I know, perhaps, more of his life than any one else. Your mother, to-day, is thehandsomest woman of her years I ever saw, but when she was of yourage her beauty was startling, and she had almost as many slavesamong the first young men of the South as there were darkies on theplantation, yet your father quietly bore her away from them all. What is more, he so managed as to retain her respect and affectionto the last, at the same time never yielding an inch in his justrights or dignity, and he ever made Mrs. Merwyn feel that her justrights and dignity were equally sacred. Proud as your mother was, she had the sense to see that his course was the only proper one. Their marriage, my boy, always reminded me of an alliance betweentwo sovereign and alien powers. It was like a court love-matchabroad. Your father, a Northern man, saw the beautiful Southernheiress, and he sued as if he were a potentate from a foreign realm. Well-born and accustomed to wealth all his life, he matched herpride with a pride as great, and made his offer on his feet as ifhe were conferring as much as he should receive. That, in fact, was the only way to win a woman who had been bowed down to allher life. After marriage they lived together like two independentsovereigns, sometimes here, then in the city house, and, whenMrs. Merwyn so desired it, on the Southern plantation, or abroad. He always treated her as if she were a countess or a queen in herown right and paid the utmost deference to her Southern ideas, butnever for a moment permitted her to forget that he was her equal andhad the same right to his Northern views. In regard to financialmatters he looked after her interests as if he were her prime minister, instead of a husband wishing to avail himself of anything. In hisown affairs he consulted me constantly and together we planted hisinvestments on the bed-rock. These reminiscences will enable youto understand the pleasure with which I recognize in you the sametraits. Of course you know that the law gives you great power overyour property. If you were inclined to dissipation, or, what wouldbe little better in these times, were hot-headed and bent on takingpart in this losing fight of the South, I should have no end oftrouble. " "You, also, are satisfied, then, that it will be a losing fight?"Merwyn had remarked. "Yes, even though the South achieves its independence. I am off atone side of all the turmoil, and my only aim is to keep my trustssafe, no matter who wins. I see things as they are up to date andnot as I might wish them to be if under the influence of passionor prejudice. The South may be recognized by foreign powers andbecome a separate state, although I regard this as very doubtful. In any event the great North and West, with the immense tides ofimmigration pouring in, will so preponderate as to be overshadowing. The Southern empire, of which Mrs. Merwyn dreams, would dwindlerather than grow. Human slavery, right or wrong, is contrary to thespirit of the age. But enough of this political discussion. I onlytouch upon it to influence your action. By the course you arepursuing you not only preserve all your Northern property, butyou will also enable me to retain for your mother and sisters theSouthern plantation. This would be impossible if you were seeking'the bubble, reputation, at the cannon's mouth' on either side. Whatever happens, there must still be law and government. Bothsides will soon get tired of this exhausting struggle, and thenthose who survive and have been wise will reap the advantage. Now, as to your own affairs, the legal formalities are nearly completed. If you return and spend the winter in New York I can put you inthe way of vastly increasing your property, and by such presenceand business activity you will disarm all criticism which yourmother's Southern relations may occasion. " "Mamma will bitterly oppose my return. " "I can only say that what I advise will greatly tend to conserveMrs. Merwyn's interests. If you prefer, we can manage it in thisway: after you have safely established your mother and sistersabroad I can write you a letter saying that your interests requireyour presence. " And so it had been arranged, and the old lawyer sat down to dinnerwith Mrs. Merwyn, paying her the courtly deference which, while itgratified her pride, was accepted as a matter of course--as a partof her husband's legacy. He had soon afterwards taken his departure, leaving his young client in a most complacent and satisfactorymood. It may thus be seen that Merwyn was not an unnatural product ofthe influences which had until now guided his life and formed hischaracter. The reminiscences of his father's friend had greatlyincreased his sense of magnanimity in his intentions towardsMarian. In the overweening pride of youth he felt as if he werealmost regally born and royally endowed, and that a career wasopening before him in which he should prove his lofty superiorityto those whose heads were turned by the hurly-burly of the hour. Young as he was, he had the sense to be in accord with wise old age, that looked beyond the clouds and storm in which so many would bewrecked. Nay, even more, from those very wrecks he would gatherwealth. "The time and opportunity for cool heads, " he smilingly assuredhimself, "is when men are parting with judgment and reason. " Such was his spirit when he sought the presence of the girl whosesoul was keyed up to almost a passion of self-sacrifice. His mindbelittled the cause for which her idolized father was, at thatmoment, perilling his life, and to which her dearest friends hadconsecrated themselves. He was serene in congratulating himselfthat "little Strahan" had gone, and that the storm would preventthe presence of other interlopers. Although the room was lighted as usual, he had not waited manymoments before a slight chill fell upon his sanguine mood. The housewas so still, and the rain dripped and the wind sighed so dismallywithout, that a vague presentiment of evil began to assert itself. Heretofore he had found the apartment full of life and mirth, andhe could not help remembering that some who had been its guestsmight now be out in the storm. Would she think of this also? The parlor was scarcely in its usual pretty order, and no flowersgraced the table. Evidently no one was expected. "All the better, "he assured himself; "and her desolation will probably incline herthe more to listen to one who can bring golden gleams on such adreary night. " A daily paper, with heavy headlines, lay on a chair near him. Theburden of these lines was DEFEAT, CARNAGE, DEATH. They increased the slight chill that was growing upon him, and madehim feel that possibly the story of his birth and greatness whichhe had hoped to tell might be swallowed up by this other storywhich fascinated him with its horror. A slight rustle caused him to look up, and Marian stood before him. Throwing aside the paper as if it were an evil spell, he rose, would have offered his hand had there been encouragement, but thegirl merely bowed and seated herself as she said: "Good-evening, Mr. Merwyn. You are brave to venture out in such a storm. " Was there irony in the slight accent on the word "brave"? Howsingularly severe was her costume, also!--simple black, without anornament. Yet he admitted that he had never seen her in so effectivea dress, revealing, as it did, the ivory whiteness of her arms andneck. "There is only one reason why I should not come this evening, --youmay have hoped to escape all callers. " "It matters little what one hopes in these times, " she said, "forevents are taking place which set aside all hopes and expectations. " In her bitter mood she was impatient to have the interview over, sothat she accomplished her purpose. Therefore she proposed, contraryto her custom with him, to employ the national tragedy, to whichhe was so indifferent, as one of her keenest weapons. "It is quite natural that you should feel so, Miss Vosburgh, inregard to such hopes as you have thus far entertained--" "Since they are the only hopes I know anything about, Mr. Merwyn, I am not indifferent to them. I suppose you were at the depot tosee your friend, Mr. Strahan, depart?" and the question was askedwith a steady, searching scrutiny that was a little embarrassing. Indeed, her whole aspect produced a perplexed, wondering admiration, forshe seemed breathing marble in her cold self-possession. He felt, however, that the explanation which he must give of his absencewhen so many were evincing patriotic good-will would enable him toimpress her with the fact that he had superior interests at stakein which she might have a share. Therefore he said, gravely, as if the reason were ample: "I shouldhave been at the depot, of course, had not my legal adviser comeup from town to-day and occupied me with very important business. Mr. Bodoin's time is valuable to him, and he presented, for myconsideration, questions of vital interest. I have reached thatage now when I must not only act for myself, but I also have verydelicate duties to perform towards my mother and sisters. " "Mr. Strahan had a sad duty to perform towards his mother andsisters, --he said good-by to them. " "A duty which I shall soon have to perform, also, " Merwyn said. She looked at him inquiringly. Had he at last found his manhood, and did he intend to assert it? Had he abandoned his calculatingpolicy, and was he cherishing some loyal purpose? If this weretrue and she had any part in his decision, it would be a triumphindeed; and, while she felt that she could never respond to anysuch proposition as he had made through her mother, she could forgetthe past and give him her hand in friendly encouragement towardssuch a career as Lane and Strahan had chosen. She felt that it wouldbe well not to be over-hasty in showing resentment, but if possibleto let him reveal his plans and character fully. She listenedquietly, therefore, without show of approval or disapproval, as hebegan in reply to her questioning glance. "I am going to be frank with you this evening, Miss Vosburgh. Thetime has come when I should be so. Has not Mrs. Vosburgh told yousomething of the nature of my interview with her?" The young girl merely bowed. "Then you know how sincere and earnest I am in what--in what Ishall have to say. " To his surprise he felt a nervous trepidation that he would nothave imagined possible in making his magnanimous offer. He foundthis humble American girl more difficult to approach than any otherwoman he had ever met. "Miss Vosburgh, " he continued, hesitatingly, "when I first enteredthis room I did not understand your true worth and superiority, but a sense of these has been growing on me from that hour to this. Perhaps I was not as sincere as I--I--should have been, and youwere too clever not to know it. Will you listen to me patiently?" Again she bowed, and lower this time to conceal a slight smile oftriumph. Encouraged, he proceeded: "Now that I have learned to know you well, I wish you to know me better, --to know all about me. My father wasa Northern man with strong Northern traits; my mother, a Southernwoman with equally strong Southern traits. I have been educatedchiefly abroad. Is it strange, then, that I cannot feel exactly asyou do, or as some of your friends do?" "As we once agreed, Mr. Merwyn, each must choose his own coursefor life. " "I am glad you have reminded me of that, for I am choosing for lifeand not for the next ten months or ten years. As I said, then, allthis present hurly-burly will soon pass away. " Her face darkened, but in his embarrassment and preoccupation he did not perceive it. "I have inherited a very large property, and my mother's affairsare such that I must act wisely, if not always as she would wish. " "May I ask what Mrs. Merwyn would prefer?" "I am prepared to be perfectly frank about myself, " he replied, hesitatingly, "but--" "Pardon me. It is immaterial. " "I have a perfect right to judge and act for myself, " resumedMerwyn, with some emphasis. "Thank you. I should remember that. " The words were spoken in a low tone and almost as if in soliloquy, and her face seemed to grow colder and more impassive if possible. With something approaching dismay Merwyn had observed that theannouncement of his large fortune had had no softening influence onthe girl's manner, and he thought, "Truly, this is the most drearyand business-like wooing that I ever imagined!" But he had gone too far to recede, and his embarrassment wasbeginning to pass into something like indignation that he and allhe could offer were so little appreciated. Restraining this feeling, he went on, gravely and gently: "You onceintimated that I was young, Miss Vosburgh, yet the circumstancesand responsibilities of my lot have led me to think more, perhaps, than others of my age, and to look beyond the present hour. I regardthe property left me by my father as a trust, and I have learnedto-day that I can greatly increase and probably double it. It ismy intention, after taking my mother and sisters abroad, to returnto New York and to enter cautiously into business under the guidanceof my legal adviser, who is a man of great sagacity. Now, as youknow, I have said from the first that it is natural for you tofeel deeply in regard to the events of the day; but I look beyondall this turmoil, distraction, and passion, which will be astemporary as it is violent. I am thinking for you as truly as formyself. Pardon me for saying it; I am sure I am in a better conditionof mind to think for you than you are to judge for yourself. I can give you the highest social position, and make your futurea certainty. From causes I can well understand the passion of thehour has been swaying you--" She rose, and by an emphatic gesture stopped him, and there was afire in the blue eyes that had been so cold before. She appearedto have grown inches as she stood before him and said, in tonesof concentrated scorn: "You are indeed young, yet you speak thecalculating words of one so old as to have lost every impulse ofyouth. Do you know where my father is at this moment?" "No, " he faltered. "He is taking part, at the risk of his life, in this temporaryhurly-burly, as you caricature it. It is he who is swaying me, andthe memory of the brave men whom you have met here and to whom youfancied yourself superior. Did not that honored father exist, orthose brave friends, I feel within my soul that I have womanhoodenough to recognize and feel my country's need in this supreme hourof her peril. You thoughtful beyond your years?--you think for me?What did you think of me the first evening you spent here? What wereyour thoughts as you came again and again? To what am I indebtedfor this honor, but the fact that you could only beguile a summer'sennui by a passing flirtation which would leave me you little caredwhere, after you had joined your aristocratic friends abroad? Nowyour plans have changed, and, after much deliberation, you havecome to lift me to the highest position! Never dream that I candescend to your position!" He was fairly trembling with anger and mortification, and she wasabout to leave the apartment. "Stay!" he said, passing his hand across his brow as if to brushaway confusion of mind; "I have not given you reason for suchcontempt, and it is most unreasonable. " "Why is it unreasonable?" she asked, her scornful self-controlpassing into something like passion. "I will speak no more of theinsult of your earlier motives towards me, now that you think youcan afford to marry me. In your young egotism you may think a girlforgets and forgives such a thing easily if bribed by a fortune. Iwill let all that be as if it were not, and meet you on the groundof what is, at this present hour. I despise you because you haveno more mind or manhood--take it as you will--than to think thatthis struggle for national life and liberty is a mere passing fracasof politicians. Do you think I will tamely permit you to call mynoble father little better than a fool? He has explained to me whatthis war means--he, of twice your age, and with a mind as largeas his manhood and courage. You have assumed to be his superior, also, as well as that of Mr. Lane and Mr. Strahan, who are aboutto peril life in the 'hurly-burly. ' What are your paltry thousandsto me? Should I ever love, I will love a MAN; and had I your sexand half your inches, I should this hour be in Virginia, instead ofdefending those I love and honor against your implied aspersions. Had you your mother's sentiments I should at least respect you, although she has no right to be here enjoying the protection of agovernment that she would destroy. " He was as pale as she had become flushed, and again he passed hishand over his brow confusedly and almost helplessly. "It is alllike a horrid dream, " he muttered. "Mr. Merwyn, you have brought this on yourself, " she said, morecalmly. "You have sought to wrong me in my own home. Your words andmanner have ever been an insult to the cause for which my fathermay die--O God!" she exclaimed, with a cry of agony--"for whichhe may now be dead! Go, go, " she added, with a strong repellentgesture. "We have nothing in common: you measure everything withthe inch-rule of self. " As if pierced to the very soul he sprung forward and seized her handwith almost crushing force, as he cried: "No, I measure everythinghereafter by the breadth of your woman's soul. You shall not castme off in contempt. If you do you are not a woman, --you are afanatic, worse than my mother;" and he rushed from the house likeone distraught. Panting, trembling, frightened by a volcanic outburst such as shehad never dreamed of, Marian sunk on a lounge, sobbing like a child. CHAPTER XVI. AWAKENED AT LAST. IT may well be imagined that Mrs. Vosburgh was not far distantduring the momentous interview described in the last chapter, and, as Merwyn rushed from the house as if pursued by the furies, sheappeared at once on the scene, full of curiosity and dismay. Exclamations, questionings, elicited little from Marian. The strainof the long, eventful day had been too great, and the young girl, who might have been taken as a type of incensed womanhood a fewmoments before, now had scarcely better resources than such remediesas Mrs. Vosburgh's matronly experience knew how to apply. Few remainlong on mountain-tops, physical or metaphorical, and deep valleyslie all around them. Little else could be done for the poor girlthan to bring the oblivion of sleep, and let kindly Nature nurseher child back to a more healthful condition of body and mind. But it would be long before Willard Merwyn would be amenable to thegentle offices of nature. Simpson, the footman, flirting desperatelywith the pretty waitress in the kitchen below, heard his master'sswift, heavy step on the veranda, and hastened out only in time toclamber into his seat as Merwyn drove furiously away in the rainand darkness. Every moment the trembling lackey expected they wouldall go to-wreck and ruin, but the sagacious animals were giventheir heads, and speedily made their way home. The man took the reeking steeds to the stable, and Merwyn disappeared. He did not enter the house, for he felt that he would stifle there, and the thought of meeting his mother was intolerable. Therefore, he stole away to a secluded avenue, and strode back and forthunder the dripping trees, oblivious, in his fierce perturbation, of outward discomfort. Mrs. Merwyn waited in vain for him to enter, then questioned theattendant. "Faix, mum, I know nothin' at all. Mr. Willard druv home loike onepossessed, and got out at the door, and that's the last oi've seenuv 'im. " The lady received the significant tidings with mingled anxiety andsatisfaction. Two things were evident. He had become more interestedin Miss Vosburgh than he had admitted, and she, by strange goodfortune, had refused him. "It was a piece of folly that had to come in some form, I suppose, "she soliloquized, "although I did not think Willard anything likeso sure to perpetrate it as most young men. Well, the girl hassaved me not a little trouble, for, of course, I should have beencompelled to break the thing up;" and she sat down to watch andwait. She waited so long that anxiety decidedly got the better ofher satisfaction. Meanwhile the object of her thoughts was passing through an experienceof which he had never dreamed. In one brief hour his complacency, pride, and philosophy of life had been torn to tatters. He sawhimself as Marian saw him, and he groaned aloud in his loathing andhumiliation. He looked back upon his superior airs as ridiculous, and now felt that he would rather be a private in Strahan's companythan the scorned and rejected wretch that he was. The passionatenature inherited from his mother was stirred to its depths. Eventhe traits which he believed to be derived from his father, andwhich the calculating lawyer had commended, had secured the younggirl's most withering contempt; and he saw how she contrasted himwith her father and Mr. Lane, --yes, even with little Strahan. Inher bitter words he heard the verdict of the young men with whomhe had associated, and of the community. Throughout the summer hehad dwelt apart, wrapped in his own self-sufficiency and fanciedsuperiority. His views had been of gradual growth, and he had cometo regard them as infallible, especially when stamped with theapproval of his father's old friend; but the scathing words, yetringing in his ears, showed him that brave, conscientious manhoodwas infinitely more than his wealth and birth. As if by a revelationfrom heaven he saw that he had been measuring everything with thelittle rule of self, and in consequence he had become so mean andsmall that a generous-hearted girl had shrunk from him in loathing. Then in bitter anger and resentment he remembered how he wastrammelled by his oath to his mother. It seemed to him that hislife was blighted by this pledge and a false education. There wasno path to her side who would love and honor only a MAN. At last the mere physical manifestations of passion and excitementbegan to pass away, and he felt that he was acting almost like oneinsane as he entered the house. Mrs. Merwyn met him, but he said, hoarsely, "I cannot talk withyou to-night. " "Willard, be rational. You are wet through. You will catch yourdeath in these clothes. " "Nothing would suit me better, as I feel now;" and he broke away. He was so haggard when he came down late the next morning that hismother could not have believed such a change possible in so shorta time. "It is going to be more serious than I thought, " was hermental comment as she poured him out a cup of coffee. It was indeed; for after drinking the coffee in silence, he lookedfrowningly out of the window for a time; then said abruptly to thewaiter, "Leave the room. " The tone was so stern that the man stole out with a scared look. "Willard, " began Mrs. Merwyn, with great dignity, "you are actingin a manner unbecoming your birth and breeding. " Turning from the window, he fixed his eyes on his mother with alook that made her shiver. At last he asked, in a low, stern voice, "Why did you bind me withthat oath?" "Because I foresaw some unutterable folly such as you are nowmanifesting. " "No, " he said, in the same cold, hard tone. "It was becauseyour cursed Confederacy was more to you than my freedom, than mymanhood, --more to you than I am myself. " "O Willard! What ravings!" "Was my father insane when he quietly insisted on his rights, yielding you yours? What right had you to cripple my life?" "I took the only effective means to prevent you from doing justthat for yourself. " "How have you succeeded?" "I have prevented you, as a man of honor, from doing, under a gustof passion, what would spoil all my plans and hopes. " "I am not a man. You have done your best to prevent me from beingone. You have bound me with a chain, and made me like one of theslaves on your plantation. Your plans and hopes? Have I no rightto plans and hopes?" "You know my first thought has been of you and for you. " "No, I do not know this. I now remember that, when you bound me, a thoughtless, selfish, indolent boy, you said that you would havetorn your heart out rather than marry my father had you foreseenwhat was coming. This miserable egotist, Jeff Davis, and his schemeof empire, cost what it may, are more to you than husband or child. A mother would have said: 'You have reached manhood and have therights of a man. I will advise you and seek to guide you. You knowmy feelings and views, and in their behalf I will even entreatyou; but you have reached that age when the law makes you free, and holds you accountable to your own conscience. ' Of what valueis my life if it is not mine? I should have the right to make myown life, like others. " "You have the right to make it, but not to mar it. " "In other words, your prejudices, your fanaticism, are to take theplace of my conscience and reason. You expect me to carry a sham ofmanhood out into the world. I wish you to release me from my oath. " "Never, " cried Mrs. Merwyn, with a passion now equal to his own. "You have fallen into the hands of a Delilah, and she has shornyou of your manhood. Infatuated with a nameless Northern girl, youwould blight your life and mine. When you come to your senses youwill thank me on your knees that I interposed an oath that cannotbe broken between you and suicidal folly;" and she was about toleave the room. "Stop, " he said, huskily. "When I bound myself I did so withoutrealizing what I did. I was but a boy, knowing not the future. Idid it out of mere good-will to you, little dreaming of the fettersyou were forging. Since you will not release me and treat me as aman I shall keep the oath. I swore never to put on the uniform ofa Union soldier, or to step on Southern soil with a hostile purpose, but you have taught me to detest your Confederacy with implacablehate; and I shall use my means, my influence, all that I am, toaid others to destroy it. " "What! are you not going back to England with us?" "Yes. " "Before you have been there a week this insane mood will pass away. " "Did my father's moods pass away?" "Your father--" began the lady, impetuously, and then hesitated. "My father always yielded you your just rights and maintained hisown. I shall imitate his example as far as I now may. The oath isa thing that stands by itself. It will probably spoil my life, butI cannot release myself from it. " "You leave me only one course, Willard, --to bear with you as if youwere a passionate child. You never need hope for my consent to analliance with the under-bred creature who has been the cause ofthis folly. " "Thank you. You now give me your complete idea of my manhood. Irequest that these subjects be dismissed finally between us. I makeanother pledge, --I shall be silent whenever you broach them;" andwith a bow he left the apartment. Half an hour later he was climbing the nearest mountain, resolvedon a few hours of solitude. From a lofty height he could seethe little Vosburgh cottage, and, by the aid of a powerful glass, observed that the pony phaeton did not go out as usual, althoughthe day was warm and beautiful after the storm. The mists of passion were passing from his mind, and in strongreaction from his violent excitement he sunk, at first, into deepdepression. So morbid was he that he cried aloud: "O my father!Would to God that you had lived! Where are you that you can giveno counsel, no help?" But he was too young to give way to utter despondency, and at lasthis mind rallied around the words he had spoken to Marian. "I shall, hereafter, measure everything by the breadth of your woman's soul. " As he reviewed the events of the summer in the light of recentexperience, he saw how strong, unique, and noble her character was. Faults she might have in plenty, but she was above meannesses andmercenary calculation. The men who had sought her society had beenincited to manly action, and beneath all the light talk and badinageearnest and heroic purposes had been formed; he meanwhile, poorfool! had been too blinded by conceited arrogance to understandwhat was taking place. He had so misunderstood her as to imaginethat after she had spent a summer in giving heroic impulses shewould be ready to form an alliance that would stultify all heraction, and lose her the esteem of men who were proving their regardin the most costly way. He wondered at himself, but thought:-- "I had heard so much about financial marriages abroad that I hadgained the impression that no girl in these days would slight anoffer like mine. Even her own mother was ready enough to meet myviews. I wonder if she will ever forgive me, ever receive me againas a guest, so that I can make a different impression. I fear shewill always think me a coward, hampered as I am by a restraintthat I cannot break. Well, my only chance is to take up life fromher point of view, and to do the best I can. There is something inmy nature which forbids my ever yielding or giving up. So far asit is now possible I shall keep my word to her, and if she has awoman's heart she may, in time, so far relent as to give me a placeamong her friends. This is now my ambition, for, if I achieve this, I shall know I am winning such manhood as I can attain. " When Merwyn appeared at dinner he was as quiet and courteous asif nothing had happened; but his mother was compelled to note thatthe boyishness had departed out of his face, and in its stronglines she recognized his growing resemblance to his father. Two weeks later he accompanied his mother and sisters to England. Before his departure he learned that Marian had been seriously ill, but was convalescent, and that her father had returned. Meantime and during the voyage, with the differences natural tothe relation of mother and son, his manner was so like that of hisfather towards her that she was continually reminded of the past, and was almost led to fear that she had made a grave error in theact she had deemed so essential. But her pride and her hopes forthe future prevented all concession. "When he is once more in society abroad this freak will pass away, "she thought, "and some English beauty will console him. " But after they were well established in a pretty villa nearcongenial acquaintances, Merwyn said one morning, "I shall returnto New York next week. " "Willard! how can you think of such a thing? I was planning tospend the latter part of the winter in Rome. " "That you may easily do with your knowledge of the city and yourwide circle of friends. " "But we need you. We want you to be with us, and I think it mostunnatural in you to leave us alone. " "I have taken no oath to dawdle around Europe indefinitely. Ipropose to return to New York and go into business. " "You have enough and more than enough already. " "I certainly have had enough of idleness. " "But I protest against it. I cannot consent. " "Mamma, " he said, in the tone she so well remembered, "is not mylife even partially my own? What is your idea of a man whom bothlaw and custom make his own master? Even as a woman you chose foryourself at the proper age. What strange infatuation do you cherishthat you can imagine that a son of Willard Merwyn has no life ofhis own to live? It is now just as impossible for me to idle awaymy best years in a foreign land as it would be for me to returnto my cradle. I shall look after your interests and comfort to thebest of my ability, and, if you decide to return to New York, youshall be received with every courtesy. " "I shall never return to New York. I would much prefer to go to myplantation and share the fortunes of my own people. " "I supposed you would feel in that way, and I will do all inmy power to further your wishes, whatever they may be. My wishes, in personal matters, are now equally entitled to respect. I shallcarry them out;" and with a bow that precluded all further remonstrancehe left the room. A day or two later she asked, abruptly, "Will you use your meansand influence against the South?" "Yes. " Mrs. Merwyn's face became rigid, but nothing more was said. Whenhe bade her good-by there was an evident struggle in her heart, but she repressed all manifestations of feeling, and mother andson parted. CHAPTER XVII. COMING TO THE POINT. WHEN the tide has long been rising the time comes for it to recede. From the moment of Marian's awakening to a desire for a betterwomanhood, she had been under a certain degree of mental excitementand exaltation. This condition had culminated with the eventsthat wrought up the loyal North into suspense, anguish, and stern, relentless purpose. While these events had a national and world-wide significance, theyalso pressed closely, in their consequences, on individual life. It has been shown how true this was in the experience of Marian. Her own personal struggle alone, in which she was combating thehabits and weakness of the past, would not have been a trivialmatter, --it never is when there is earnest endeavor, --but, inaddition to this, her whole soul had been kindling in sympathy withthe patriotic fire that was impelling her dearest friends towardsdanger and possible death. Lane's, Strahan's, and Blauvelt'sdeparture, and her father's peril, had brought her to a point thatalmost touched the limit of endurance. Then had come the man whoseattentions had been so humiliating to her personally, and whorepresented to her the genius of the Rebellion that was bringingher such cruel experience. She saw his spirit of condescension evenin his offer of marriage; worse still, she saw that he belittledthe conflict in which even her father was risking his life; and herindignation and resentment had burst forth upon him with a powerthat she could not restrain. The result had been most unexpected. Instead of slinking awayoverwhelmed with shame and confusion, or departing in haughty anger, Merwyn had revealed to her that which is rarely witnessed by anyone, --the awakening of a strong, passionate nature. In the cynical, polished, self-pleasing youth was something of which she had notdreamed, --of which he was equally unaware. Her bitter words piercedthrough the strata of self-sufficiency and pride that had beenaccumulating for years. She stabbed with truth the outer man andslew it, but the inner and possible manhood felt the sharp thrustand sprung up wounded, bleeding, and half desperate with pain. Thatwhich wise and kindly education might have developed was evoked insudden agony, strong yet helpless, overwhelmed with the humiliatingconsciousness of what had been, and seeing not the way to whatshe would honor. Yet in that supreme moment the instinct asserteditself that she, who had slain his meaner self, had alone the powerto impart the impulse toward true manhood and to give the truemeasure of it. Hence a declaration so passionate, and an appeal sofull of his immense desire and need, that she was frightened, andfaltered helplessly. In the following weary days of suffering and weakness, she realizedthat she was very human, and not at all the exalted heroine thatshe had unconsciously come to regard herself. The suitor whom shehad thought to dismiss in contempt and anger, and to have done with, could not be banished from her mind. The fact that he had provedhimself to be all that she had thought him did not satisfy her, for the reason that he had apparently shown himself to be so muchmore. She had judged him superficially, and punished him accordingly. She had condemned him unsparingly for traits which, except for a fewshort months, had been her own characteristics. While it was truethat they seemed more unworthy in a man, still they were essentiallythe same. "But he was not a man, " she sighed. "He was scarcely more than theselfish boy that wealth, indulgence, and fashionable life had madehim. Why was I so blind to this? Why could I not have seen thatnothing had ever touched him deeply enough to show what he was, or, at least, of what he was capable? What was Strahan before hismanhood was awakened? A little gossiping exquisite. Even Mr. Lane, who was always better than any of us, has changed wonderfullysince he has had exceptional motives for noble action. What was I, myself, last June, when I was amusing myself at the expense of aman whom I knew to be so good and true? In view of all this, insteadof having a little charity for Mr. Merwyn, who, no doubt, is onlythe natural product of the influences of his life, I only toleratedhim in the vindictive hope of giving the worst blow that a woman caninflict. I might have seen that he had a deeper nature; at least, I might have hoped that he had, and given him a chance to revealit. Perhaps there has never been one who tried to help him towardtrue manhood. He virtually said that his mother was a Southernfanatic, and his associations have been with those abroad whosympathized with her. Is it strange that a mere boy of twenty-oneshould be greatly influenced by his mother and her aristocraticfriends? He said his father was a Northern man, and he may haveimbibed the notion that he could not fight on either side. Well, if he will give up such a false idea, if he will show that he isnot cold-blooded and calculating, as his last outbreak seemed toprove, and can become as brave and true a soldier as Strahan, Iwill make amends by treating him as I do Strahan, and will try tofeel as friendly towards him. He shall not have the right to sayI'm 'not a woman but a fanatic. '" She proved herself a woman by the effort to make excuses for onetowards whom she had been severe, by her tendency to relent aftershe had punished to her heart's content. "But, " added the girl aloud, in the solitude of her room, "while Imay give him my hand in some degree of kindliness and friendship, if he shows a different spirit, he shall never have my colors, nevermy loyal and almost sisterly love, until he has shown the courageand manhood of Mr. Lane and Mr. Strahan. They shall have the firstplace until a better knight appears. " When, one September evening, her father quietly entered his homehe gave her an impulse towards convalescence beyond the power ofall remedies. There were in time mutual confidences, though hiswere but partial, because relating to affairs foreign to her life, and tending to create useless anxieties in respect to the future. He was one of those sagacious, fearless agents whom the government, at that period, employed in many and secret ways. For obvious reasonsthe nature and value of their services will never be fully known. Marian was unreserved in her relation of what had occurred, andher father smiled and reassured her. "In one sense you are right, " he said. "We should have a broader, kindlier charity for all sorts of people, and remember that, sincewe do not know their antecedents and the influences leading totheir actions, we should not be hasty to judge. Your course mighthave been more Christian-like towards young Merwyn, it is true. Coming from you, however, in your present state of development, it was very natural, and I'm not sure but he richly deserved yourwords. If he has good mettle he will be all the better for them. If he spoke from mere impulse and goes back to his old life andassociations, I'm glad my little girl was loyal and brave enoughto lodge in his memory truths that he won't forget. Take the goodold doctrine to your relenting heart and don't forgive him untilhe 'brings forth fruits meet for repentance. ' I'm proud of you thatyou gave the young aristocrat such a wholesome lesson in regard togenuine American manhood and womanhood. " Mrs. Vosburgh's reception of her husband was a blending of welcomeand reproaches. What right had he to overwhelm them with anxiety, etc. , etc. ? "The right of about a million men who are taking part in thestruggle, " he replied, laughing at her good-naturedly. "But I can't permit or endure it any longer, " said his wife, andthere was irritation in her protest. "Well, my dear, " he replied, with a shrug, "I must remain amongthe eccentric millions who continue to act according to their ownjudgment. " "Mamma!" cried Marian, who proved that she was getting well by atendency to speak sharply, "do you wish papa to be poorer-spiritedthan any of the million? What kind of a man would he be should hereply, 'Just as you say, my dear; I've no conscience, or will of myown'? I do not believe that any girl in the land will suffer morethan I when those I love are in danger, but I'd rather die thanblockade the path of duty with my love. " "Yes, and some day when you are fatherless you may repent thosewords, " sobbed Mrs. Vosburgh. "This will not answer, " said Mr. Vosburgh, in a tone that quietedboth mother and daughter, who at this stage were inclined to be alittle hysterical. "A moment's rational thought will convince youthat words cannot influence me. I know exactly what I owe to you andto my country, and no earthly power can change my course a hair'sbreadth. If I should be brought home dead to-morrow, Marian wouldnot have the shadow of a reason for self-reproach. She would haveno more to do with it than with the sunrise. Your feelings, inboth instances, are natural enough, and no doubt similar scenes aretaking place all over the land; but men go just the same, as theyshould do and always have done in like emergencies. So wipe awayyour tears, little women. You have nothing to cry about yet, whilemany have. " The master mind controlled and quieted them. Mrs. Vosburgh lookedat her husband a little curiously, and it dawned upon her moreclearly than ever before that the man whom she managed, as shefancied, was taking his quiet, resolute way through life with hisown will at the helm. Marian thought, "Ah, why does not mamma idolize such a man and findher best life in making the most of his life?" She had, as yet, scarcely grasped the truth that, as diseaseenfeebles the body, so selfishness disables the mind, robbing it ofthe power to care for others, or to understand them. In a senseMr. Vosburgh would always be a stranger to his wife. He hadphilosophically and patiently accepted the fact, and was makingthe best of the relation as it existed. It was now decided that the family should return at once to theircity home. Mr. Vosburgh had a few days of leisure to superintendthe removal, and then his duties would become engrossing. The evening before their departure was one of mild, charmingbeauty, and as the dining-room was partially dismantled, it was Mr. Vosburgh's fancy to have the supper-table spread on the veranda. The meal was scarcely finished when a tall, broad-shouldered manappeared at the foot of the steps, and Sally, the pretty waitress, manifested a blushing consciousness of his presence. "Wud Mr. Vosburgh let me spake to him a moment?" began the stranger. Marian recognized the voice that, from the shrubbery, hadgiven utterance to the indignant protest against traits which hadonce characterized her own life and motives. Thinking it possiblethat her memory was at fault, she glanced at Sally's face and theimpression was confirmed. "What ages have passed since that Juneevening!" she thought. "Is it anything private, my man?" asked Mr. Vosburgh, pushing backhis chair and lighting a cigar. "Faix, zur, it's nothin' oi'm ashamed on. I wish to lave the countryand get a place on the perlace force, " repeated the man, with analacrity which showed that he wished Sally to hear his request. "You look big and strong enough to handle most men. " "Ye may well say that, zur; oi've not sane the man yit that oi wasafeared on. " Sally chuckled over her knowledge that this was not true in respectto women, while Marian whispered to her father: "Secure him theplace if you can, papa. You owe a great deal to him and so do I, although he does not know it. This is the man whose words, spokento Sally, disgusted me with my old life. Don't you remember?" Mr. Vosburgh's eyes twinkled, as he shot a swift glance at Sally, whose face was redder than the sunset. The man's chief attractionto the city was apparent. "What's your name?" the gentleman asked. "Barney Ghegan, zur. " "Are you perfectly loyal to the North? Will you help carry out thelaws, even against your own flesh and blood, if necessary?" "Oi'll 'bey orders, zur, " replied the man, emphatically. "Oi'vecome to Amarekay to stay, and oi'll stan' by the goovernment. " "Can you bring me a certificate of your character?" "Oi can, zur, for foive years aback. " "Bring it then, Barney, and you shall go on the force; for you'rea fine, strong-looking man, --the kind needed in these days, " saidMr. Vosburgh, glad to do a good turn for one who unwittingly hadrendered him so great a service, and also amused at this lateraspect of the affair. This amusement was greatly enhanced by observing Barney's proud, triumphant glance at Sally. Turning quickly to note its effect onthe girl, Mr. Vosburgh caught the coquettish maid in the act ofmaking a grimace at her much-tormented suitor. Sally's face again became scarlet, and in embarrassed haste shebegan to clear the table. Barney was retiring slowly, evidently wishing for an interviewwith his elusive charmer before he should return to his presentemployers, and Mr. Vosburgh good-naturedly put in a word in hisfavor. "Stay, Barney, and have some supper before you go home. In behalfof Mrs. Vosburgh I give you a cordial invitation. " "Yes, " added the lady, who had been quietly laughing. "Now that youare to be so greatly promoted we shall be proud to have you stay. " Barney doffed his hat and exclaimed, "Long loife to yez all, espacially to the swate-faced young leddy that first spoke a goodwourd for me, oi'm a-thinkin';" and he stepped lightly around tothe rear of the house. "Sally, " said Mr. Vosburgh, with preternatural gravity. The girl courtesied and nearly dropped a dish. "Mr. Barney Ghegan will soon be receiving a large salary. " Sally courtesied again, but her black eyes sparkled as she whiskedthe rest of the things from the table and disappeared. She maintainedher old tactics during supper and before the other servants, exultingin the fact that the big, strong man was on pins and needles, devoidof appetite and peace. "'Afeared o' no mon, ' he says, " she thought, smilingly. "He's soafeared o' me that he's jist a tremblin'. " After her duties were over, Barney said, mopping his brow: "Faix, but the noight is warm. A stroll in the air wudn't be bad, oi'ma-thinkin'. " "Oi'm cool as a cowcumber, " remarked Sally. "We'll wait for ye tillye goes out and gits cooled off;" and she sat down complacently, while the cook and the laundress tittered. An angry sparkle began to assert itself in Barney's blue eyes, andhe remarked drily, as he took his hat, "Yez moight wait longer thanyez bargained for. " The shrewd girl saw that she was at the length of her chain, andsprung up, saying: "Oh, well, since the mistress invited ye sopolitely, ye's company, and it's me duty to thry to entertain ye. Where shall we go?" she added, as she passed out with him. "To the rustic sate, sure. Where else shud we go?" "A rustic sate is a quare place for a stroll. " "Oi shall have so much walkin' on me bate in New York, that it'swell to begin settin' down aready, oi'm a-thinkin'. " "Why, Barney, ye're going to be a reg'lar tramp. Who'd 'a thoughtthat ye'd come down to that. " "Ah! arrah, wid ye nonsense! Sit ye down here, for oi'm a-goin' tospake plain the noight. Noo, by the Holy Vargin, oi'm in arenest. Are ye goin' to blow hot, or are ye goin' to blow could?" "Considerin' the hot night, Barney, wouldn't it be better for meto blow could?" Barney scratched his head in perplexity. "Ye know what I mane, " heejaculated. "Where will ye foind the girl that tells all she knows?" "O Sally, me darlint, what's the use of batin' around the bush?Ye know that a cat niver looked at crame as oi look on ye, " saidBarney, in a wheedling tone, and trying the tactics of coaxing oncemore. He sat down beside her and essayed with his insinuating arm tofurther his cause as his words had not done. "Arrah, noo, Barney Ghegan, what liberties wud ye be takin' wid arespectable girl?" and she drew away decidedly. He sprung to his feet and exploded in the words: "Sally Maguire, will ye be me woife? By the holy poker! Answer, yis or no. " Sally rose, also, and in equally pronounced tones replied: "Yes, Barney Ghegan, I will, and I'll be a good and faithful one, too. It's yeself that's been batin' round the bush. Did ye think a womanwas a-goin' to chase ye over hill and down dale and catch ye bythe scruff of the neck? What do ye take me for?" "Oi takes ye for better, Sally, me darlint;" and then followedsounds suggesting the popping of a dozen champagne corks. Mr. Vosburgh, his wife, and Marian had been chatting quietlyon the piazza, unaware of the scene taking place in the screeningshrubbery until Barney's final question had startled the night likea command to "stand and deliver. " Repressing laughter with difficulty they tiptoed into the houseand closed the door. CHAPTER XVIII. A GIRL'S STANDARD. THE month of September, 1862, was a period of strong excitementand profound anxiety on both sides of the vague and shifting linewhich divided the loyal North from the misguided but courageousSouth. During the latter part of August Gen. Pope had beenoverwhelmed with disaster, and what was left of his heroic armywas driven within the fortifications erected for the defence ofWashington. Apparently the South had unbounded cause for exultation. But a few weeks before their capital had been besieged by an immensearmy, while a little to the north, upon the Rappahannock, restedanother Union army which, under a leader like Stonewall Jackson, would have been formidable enough in itself to tax Lee's skill andstrength to the utmost. Except in the immediate vicinity of thecapital and Fortress Monroe scarcely a National soldier had beenleft in Virginia. The Confederates might proudly claim that thegeneralship of Lee and the audacity of Jackson had swept the Northerninvaders from the State. Even more important than the prestige and glory won was the factthat the Virginian farmers were permitted to gather their cropsunmolested. The rich harvests of the Shenandoah Valley and otherregions, that had been and should have been occupied by Nationaltroops, were allowed to replenish the Confederate granaries. Therewere rejoicings and renewed confidence in Southern homes, and smilesof triumph on the faces of sympathizers abroad and throughout theNorth. But the astute leaders of the Rebellion were well aware that theend had not yet come, and that, unless some bold, paralyzing blowwas struck, the struggle was but fairly begun. In response to therequest for more men new armies were springing up at the North. Thecontinent shook under the tread of hosts mustering with the sternpurpose that the old flag should cover every inch of the heritageleft by our fathers. Therefore, Lee was not permitted to remain on the defensive a moment, but was ordered to cross the Potomac in the rear of Washington, threatening that city and Baltimore. It was supposed that the adventof a Southern army into Maryland would create such an enthusiasticuprising that thinned ranks would be recruited, and the Statebrought into close relation with the Confederate Government. Theseexpectations were not realized. The majority sympathized withBarbara Frietchie, "Bravest of all in Frederick town, " rather than with their self-styled deliverers; and Lee lost moreby desertion from his own ranks than he gained in volunteers. Inthis same town of Frederick, by strange carelessness on the partof the rebels, was left an order which revealed to McClellan Lee'splans and the positions which his divided army were to occupy duringthe next few days. Rarely has history recorded such opportunitiesas were thus accidentally given to the Union commander. The ensuing events proved that McClellan's great need was not thereinforcements for which he so constantly clamored, but decisionand energy of character. Had he possessed these qualities he couldhave won for himself, from the fortuitous order which fell into hishands, a wreath of unfading laurel, and perhaps have saved almostcountless lives of his fellow-countrymen. As it was, if he hadonly advanced his army a little faster, the twelve thousand Unionsoldiers, surrendered by the incompetent and pusillanimous Gen. Miles, would have been saved from the horrors of captivity andsecured as a valuable reinforcement. To the very last, fortuneappeared bent on giving him opportunity. The partial success wonon the 17th of September, at the battle of Antietam, might easilyhave been made a glorious victory if McClellan had had the vigorto put in enough troops, especially including Burnside's corps, earlier in the day. Again, on the morning of the 18th, he had onlyto take the initiative, as did Grant after the first day's fightingat Shiloh, and Lee could scarcely have crossed the Potomac with acorporal's guard. But, as usual, he hesitated, and the enemy thatrobbed him of one of the highest places in history was not theConfederate general or his army, but a personal trait, --indecision. In the dawn of the 19th he sent out his cavalry to reconnoitre, andlearned that his antagonist was safe in Virginia. Fortune, weariedat last, finally turned her back upon her favorite. The desperateand bloody battle resulted in little else than the ebb of thetide of war southward. Northern people, it is true, breathed morefreely. Philadelphia, Baltimore, and Washington were safe for thepresent, but this seemed a meagre reward for millions of treasureand tens of thousands of lives, especially when the capture of Richmondand the end of the Rebellion had been so confidently promised. If every village and hamlet in the land was profoundly stirred bythese events, it can well be understood that the commercial centreof New York throbbed like an irritated nerve under the telegraphwires concentring there from the scenes of action. Every possibleinterest, every variety of feeling, was touched in its vast andheterogeneous population, and the social atmosphere was electricalwith excitement. From her very constitution, now that she had begun to comprehendthe nature of the times, Marian Vosburgh could not breathe this airin tranquillity. She was, by birthright, a spirited, warm-heartedgirl, possessing all a woman's disposition towards partisanship. Everything during the past few months had tended to awaken a deepinterest in the struggle, and passing events intensified it. Notonly in the daily press did she eagerly follow the campaign, butfrom her father she learned much that was unknown to the generalpublic. To a girl of mind the great drama in itself could not failto become absorbing, but when it is remembered that those who hadthe strongest hold upon her heart were imperilled actors in thetragedy, the feeling with which she watched the shifting scenesmay in some degree be appreciated. She often saw her father's browclouded with deep anxiety, and dreaded that each new day mightbring orders which would again take him into danger. While the letters of her loyal friend, Lane, veiled all that washard and repulsive in his service, she knew that the days of drilland equipment would soon be over, and that the new regiment mustparticipate in the dangers of active duty. This was equally true ofStrahan and Blauvelt. She laughed heartily over their illustratedjournal, which, in the main, gave the comic side of their life. Butshe never laid it aside without a sigh, for she read much betweenthe lines, and knew that the hour of battle was rapidly approaching. Thus far they had been within the fortifications at Washington, for the authorities had learned the folly of sending undisciplinedrecruits to the front. At last, when the beautiful month of October was ended, and Lee'sshattered army was rested and reorganized, McClellan once morecrossed the Potomac. Among the reinforcements sent to him were theregiments of which Lane and Strahan were members. The letters ofher friends proved that they welcomed the change and with all theardor of brave, loyal men looked forward to meeting the enemy. Inheart and thought she went with them, but a sense of their dangerfell, like a shadow, across her spirit. She appeared years olderthan the thoughtless girl for whom passing pleasure and excitementhad been the chief motives of life; but in the strengthening linesof her face a womanly beauty was developing which caused evenstrangers to turn and glance after her. If Merwyn still retained some hold upon her thoughts and curiosity, so much could scarcely be said of her sympathy. He had disappearedfrom the moment when she had harshly dismissed him, and she wasbeginning to feel that she had been none too severe, and to believethat his final words had been spoken merely from impulse. If hewere amusing himself abroad, Marian, in her intense loyalty, woulddespise him; if he were permitting himself to be identified withhis mother's circle of Southern sympathizers, the young girl'scontempt would be tinged with detestation. He had approached hertoo nearly, and humiliated her too deeply, to be readily forgottenor forgiven. His passionate outbreak at last had been so intenseas to awaken strong echoes in her woman's soul. If return to acommonplace fashionable life was to be the only result of the past, she would scarcely ever think of him without an angry sparkle inher eyes. After she had learned that her friends were in the field andtherefore exposed to the dangers of battle at any time, she hadsoliloquized, bitterly: "He promised to 'measure everything by thebreadth of my woman's soul. ' What does he know about a true woman'ssoul? He has undoubtedly found his selfish nature and his pursemore convenient gauges of the world. Well, he knows of one girlwho cannot be bought. " Her unfavorable impression was confirmed one cold November morning. Passing down Madison Avenue, her casual attention was attracted bythe opening of a door on the opposite side of the street. She onlypermitted her swift glance to take in the fact that it was Merwynwho descended the steps and entered an elegant coupe driven bya man in a plain livery. After the vehicle had been whirled away, curiosity prompted her to retrace her steps that she might lookmore closely at the residence of the man who had asked her to behis wife. It was evidently one of the finest and most substantialhouses on the avenue. A frown contracted. The young girl's brow as she muttered: "Heaspired to my hand, --he, who fares sumptuously in that brown-stonepalace while such men as Mr. Lane are fortunate to have a canvasroof over their heads. He had the narrowness of mind to half-despiseArthur Strahan, who left equal luxury to face every danger andhardship. Thank Heaven I planted some memories in his snobbishsoul!" Thereafter she avoided that locality. In the evening, with words scarcely less bitter, she mentioned toher father the fact that she had seen Merwyn and his home. Mr. Vosburgh smiled and said, "You have evidently lost all compunctionsin regard to your treatment of the young fellow. " "I have, indeed. The battle of Antietam alone would place a RedSea between me and any young American who can now live a life ofselfish luxury. Think how thousands of our brave men will sleepthis stormy night on the cold, rain-soaked ground, and then thinkof his cold-blooded indifference to it all!" "Why think of him at all, Marian?" her father asked, with a quizzicalsmile. The color deepened slightly in her face as she replied: "Whyshouldn't I think of him to some extent? He has crossed my path inno ordinary way. His attentions at first were humiliating, and heawakened an antipathy such as I never felt towards any one before. He tried to belittle you, my friends, and the cause to which youare devoted. Then, when I told him the truth about himself, heappeared to have manhood enough to comprehend it. His words made methink of a man desperately wounded, and my sympathies were touched, and I felt that I had been unduly severe and all that. In fact, Iwas overwrought, ill, morbid, conscience-stricken as I rememberedmy own past life, and he appeared to feel what I said so awfullythat I couldn't forget it. I had silly dreams and hopes that hewould assert his manhood and take a loyal part in the struggle. But what has been his course? So far as I can judge, it has beenin keeping with his past. Settling down to a life of ease andmoney-making here would be little better, in my estimation, thanamusing himself abroad. It would be simply another phase of followinghis own mood and inclinations; and I shall look upon his outburstand appeal as hysterical rather than passionate and sincere. " Mr. Vosburgh listened, with a half-amused expression, to his daughter'sindignant and impetuous words, but only remarked, quietly, "Supposeyou find that you have judged Mr. Merwyn unjustly?" "I don't think I have done so. At any rate, one can only judge fromwhat one knows. " "Stick to that. Your present impressions and feelings do you credit, and I am glad that your friends' loyal devotion counts for morein your esteem than Merwyn's wealth. Still, in view of your schemeof life to make the most and best of men of brains and force, I donot think you have given the young nabob time and opportunity toreveal himself fully. He may have recently returned from England, and, since his mother was determined to reside abroad, it was hisduty to establish her well before returning. You evidently havenot dismissed him from your thoughts. Since that is true, do notcondemn him utterly until you see what he does. What if he againseeks your society?" "Well, I don't know, papa. As I feel to-night I never wish to seehim again. " "I'm not sure of that, little girl. You are angry and vindictive. If he were a nonentity you would be indifferent. " "Astute papa! That very fact perplexes me. But haven't I explainedwhy I cannot help thinking of him to some extent?" "No, not even to yourself. " Marian bit her lip with something like vexation, then said, reproachfully, "Papa, you can't think that I care for him?" "Oh, no, --not in the sense indicated by your tone. But your sillydreams and hopes, as you characterize them, have taken a strongerhold upon you than you realize. You are disappointed as well asangry. You have entertained the thought that he might do something, or become more in harmony with the last words he spoke to you. " "Well, he hasn't. " "You have not yet given him sufficient time, perhaps. I shall notseek to influence you in the matter, but the question still presentsitself: What if he again seeks your society and shows a dispositionto make good his words?" "I shall not show him, " replied Marian, proudly, "greater favorthan such friends as Mr. Lane and Mr. Strahan required. Withoutbeing influenced by me, they decided to take part in the war. Afterthey had taken the step which did so much credit to their manlycourage and loyalty, they came and told me of it. If Mr. Merwynshould show equal spirit and patriotism and be very humble in viewof the past, I should, of course, feel differently towards him. Ifhe don't--"and the girl shook her head ominously. Her father laughed heartily. "Why!" he exclaimed; "I doubt whetherin all the sunny South there is such a little fire-eater as we havehere. " "No, papa, no, " cried Marian, with suddenly moistening eyes. "Iregret the war beyond all power of expression. I could not ask, much less urge, any one to go, and my heart trembles and shrinkswhen I think of danger threatening those I love. But I honor--Ialmost worship--courage, loyalty, patriotism. Do you think I canever love any one as I do you? Yet I believe you would go to Richmondto-morrow if you were so ordered. I ask nothing of this Merwyn, orof any one; but he who asks my friendship must at least be braveand loyal enough to go where my father would lead. Even if I loved aman, even if I were married, I would rather that the one _I_ loveddid all a man's duty, though my heart was broken and my life blightedin consequence, than to have him seeking safety and comfort in someeminently prudent, temporizing course. " Mr. Vosburgh put his arm around his daughter, as he looked, for amoment, into her tear-dimmed eyes, then kissed her good-night, andsaid, quietly, "I understand you, Marian. " "But, papa!" she exclaimed, in sudden remorsefulness, "you won'ttake any risks that you can honorably escape?" "I promise you I won't go out to-night in search of the nearestrecruiting sergeant, " replied her father, with a reassuring laugh. CHAPTER XIX. PROBATION PROMISED. MERWYN had been in the city some little time when Marian, unknownto him, learned of his presence. He, also, had seen her more thanonce, and while her aspect had increased his admiration and afeeling akin to reverence, it had also disheartened him. To a degreeunrecognized by the girl herself, her present motives and strongercharacter had changed the expression of her face. He had seen herwhen unconscious of observation and preoccupied by thoughts whichmade her appear grave and almost stern, and he was again assuredthat the advantages on which he had once prided himself were asnothing to her compared with the loyalty of friends now in Virginia. He could not go there, nor could he explain why he must apparentlyshun danger and hardship. He felt that his oath to his mother wouldbe, in her eyes, no extenuation of his conduct. Indeed, he believedthat she would regard the fact that he could give such a pledgeas another proof of his unworthiness to be called an American. Howcould it be otherwise when he himself could not look back upon theevent without a sense of deep personal humiliation? "I was an idiotic fool when I gave away manhood and its rights, "he groaned. "My mother took advantage of me. " In addition to the personal motive to conceal the fact of his oath, he had even a stronger one. The revelation of his pledge would beproof positive of his mother's disloyalty, and might jeopardizethe property on which she and his sisters depended for support. Moreover, while he bitterly resented Mrs. Merwyn's course towardshim he felt that honor and family loyalty required that he shouldnever speak a word to her discredit. The reflection implied inhis final words to Marian had been wrung from him in the agony ofa wounded spirit, and he now regretted them. Henceforth he wouldhide the fetters which in restraining him from taking the part inthe war now prompted by his feelings also kept him from the side ofthe girl who had won the entire allegiance of his awakened heart. He did not know how to approach her, and feared lest a false stepshould render the gulf between them impassable. He saw that herpride, while of a different character, was greater than his ownhad ever been, and that the consideration of his birth and wealth, which he had once dreamed must outweigh all things else, would notinfluence her in the slightest degree. Men whom she regarded as hisequals in these respects were not only at her feet but also facingthe enemy as her loyal knights. How pitiable a figure in her eyeshe must ever make compared with them! But there is no gravitation like that of the heart. He felt thathe must see her again, and was ready to sue for even the privilegeof being tolerated in her drawing-room on terms little better thanthose formerly accorded him. When he arrived in New York he had hesitated as to his course. Hisfirst impulse had been to adopt a life of severe and inexpensivesimplicity. But he soon came to look upon this plan as an affectation. There was his city home, and he had a perfect right to occupy it, and abundant means to maintain it. After seeing Marian's resolute, earnest face as she passed in the street unconscious of hisscrutiny, and after having learned more about her father from hislegal adviser, the impression grew upon him that he had lost hischance, and he was inclined to take refuge in a cold, proud reticenceand a line of conduct that would cause no surmises and questioningson the part of the world. He would take his natural position, andlive in such a way as to render curiosity impertinent. He had inherited too much of his father's temperament to sit downin morbid brooding, and even were he disposed toward such weaknesshe felt that his words to Marian required that he should do allthat he was now free to perform in the advancement of the cause towhich she was devoted. She might look with something like contempton a phase of loyalty which gave only money when others were givingthemselves, but it was the best he could do. Whether she would everrecognize the truth or not, his own self-respect required that heshould keep his word and try to look at things from her point ofview, and, as far as possible, act accordingly. For a time he wasfully occupied with Mr. Bodoin in obtaining a fuller knowledge ofhis property and the nature of its investment. Having learned moredefinitely about his resources he next followed the impulse to aidthe cause for which he could not fight. A few mornings after the interview between Marian and her fatherdescribed in the previous chapter, Mr. Vosburgh, looking over hispaper at the breakfast-table, laughed and said: "What do you thinkof this, Marian? Here is Merwyn's name down for a large donationto the Sanitary and Christian Commissions. " His daughter smiled satirically as she remarked, "Such heroismtakes away my breath. " "You are losing the power, Marian, " said her mother, irritably, "of taking moderate, common-sense views of anything relating tothe war. If the cause is first in your thoughts why not recognizethe fact that Mr. Merwyn can do tenfold more with his money thanif he went to the front and 'stopped a bullet, ' as your officerfriends express themselves? You are unfair, also. Instead of givingMr. Merwyn credit for a generous act you sneer at him. " The girl bit her lip, and looked perplexed for a moment. "Well, then, " she said, "I will give him credit. He has put himself to theinconvenience of writing two checks for amounts that he will missno more than I would five cents. " "Ask your father, " resumed Mrs. Vosburgh, indignantly, "if themen who sustain these great charities and the government are notjust as useful as soldiers in the field. What would become of thesoldiers if business in the city should cease? Your ideas, carriedout fully, would lead your father to start to the front with amusket, instead of remaining where he can accomplish the most good. " "You are mistaken, mamma. My only fear is that he will incur toomany risks as it is. I have never asked any one to go to the front, and I certainly would not ask Mr. Merwyn. Indeed, when I think ofthe cause, I would rather he should do as you suggest. I should beglad to have him give thousands and increase the volume of businessby millions; but if he gave all he has, he could not stand in myestimation with men who offer their lives and risk mutilation anduntold suffering from wounds. I know nothing of Mr. Merwyn's presentmotives, and they may be anything but patriotic. He may think it tohis advantage to win some reputation for loyalty, when it is wellknown that his mother has none at all. Those two gifts, paltryfor one of his means, count very little in these days of immenseself-sacrifice. I value, in times of danger, especially when greatprinciples are at stake, self-sacrifice and uncalculating heroismabove all things, and I prefer to choose my friends from amongthose who voluntarily exhibit these qualities. No man living couldwin my favor who took risks merely to please me. Mr. Merwyn isnothing to me, and if I should ever meet him again socially, whichis not probable, I should be the last one to suggest that he shouldgo to the war; but if he, or any one, wishes my regard, theremust be a compliance with the conditions on which I give it. I amcontent with the friends I have. " Mr. Vosburgh looked at his daughter for a moment as if she werefulfilling his ideal, and soon after departed for his office. A few days after, when the early shadows of the late autumn weregathering, he was interrupted in his preparations to return up townby the entrance of the subject of the recent discussion. Merwyn was pale and evidently embarrassed as he asked, "Mr. Vosburgh, have you a few moments of leisure?" "Yes, " replied the gentleman, briefly. He led the way to a private office and gave his caller a chair. The young man was at a loss to begin a conversation necessarily ofso delicate a nature, and hesitated. Mr. Vosburgh offered no aid or encouragement, for his thought was, "This young fellow must show his hand fully before I commit myselfor Marian in the slightest degree. " "Miss Vosburgh, no doubt, has told you of the character of our lastinterview, " Merwyn began at last, plunging in medias res. "My daughter is in the habit of giving me her confidence, " was thequiet reply. "Then, sir, you know how unworthy I am to make the request to whichI am nevertheless impelled. In justice I can hope for nothing. Ihave forfeited the privilege of meeting Miss Vosburgh again, and Ido not feel that it would be right for me to see her without yourpermission. The motives which first led me into her society wereutterly unworthy of a true man, and had she been the ordinarysociety girl that I supposed she was, the results might have beenequally deserving of condemnation. I will not plead in extenuationthat I had been unfortunate in my previous associations, and inthe influences that had developed such character as I had. Can youlisten to me patiently?" The gentleman bowed. "I eventually learned to comprehend Miss Vosburgh's superiority insome degree, and was so fascinated by her that I offered marriagein perfect good faith; but the proposal was made in a complacentand condescending spirit that was so perfectly absurd that now Iwonder at my folly. Her reply was severe, but not so severe as Ideserved, and she led me to see myself at last in a true light. Itis little I can now ask or hope. My questions narrow down to these:Is Miss Vosburgh disposed to give me only justice? Have I offendedher so deeply that she cannot meet me again? Had my final words noweight with her? She has inspired in me the earnest wish to achievesuch character as I am capable of, --such as circumstances permit. During the summer I saw her influence over others. She was thefirst one in the world who awakened in my own breast the desireto be different. I cannot hope that she will soon, if ever, lookupon me as a friend; but if she can even tolerate me with some degreeof kindliness and good-will, I feel that I should be the betterand happier for meeting her occasionally. If this is impossible, please say to her that the pledge implied among the last wordsuttered on that evening, which I shall never forget, shall be kept. I shall try to look at right and duty as she would. " As he concluded, Mr. Vosburgh's face softened somewhat. For a whilethe young man's sentences had been a little formal and studied, evidently the result of much consideration; they had neverthelessthe impress of truth. The gentleman's thought was: "If Mr. Merwynmakes good his words by deeds this affair has not yet ended. Mylittle girl has been much too angry and severe not to be in dangerof a reaction. " After a moment of silence he said: "Mr. Merwyn, I can only speak formyself in this matter. Of course, I naturally felt all a father'sresentment at your earlier attentions to my daughter. Since youhave condemned them unsparingly I need not refer to them again. Irespect your disposition to atone for the past and to enter on alife of manly duty. You have my hearty sympathy, whatever may be theresult. I also thank you for your frank words to me. Nevertheless, Miss Vosburgh must answer the questions you have asked. She issupreme in her drawing-room, and alone can decide whom she willreceive there. I know she will not welcome any one whom she believesto be unworthy to enter. I will tell her all that you have said. " "I do not hope to be welcomed, sir. I only ask to be received withsome degree of charity. May I call on you to-morrow and learn MissVosburgh's decision?" "Certainly, at any hour convenient to you. " Merwyn bowed and retired. When alone he said, with a deep sigh ofrelief: "Well, I have done all in my power at present. If she hasa woman's heart she won't be implacable. " "What kept you so late?" Mrs. Vosburgh asked, as her husband camedown to dinner. "A gentleman called and detained me. " "Give him my compliments when you see him again, " said Marian, "and tell him that I don't thank him for his unreasonable hours. You need more recreation, papa. Come, take us out to hear somemusic to-night. " A few hours later they were at the Academy, occupying balconyseats. Marian was glancing over the house, between the acts, withher glass, when she suddenly arrested its motion, and fixed it ona lonely occupant of an expensive box. After a moment she handedthe lorgnette to her father, and directed him whither to look. Hesmiled and said, "He appears rather pensive and preoccupied, doesn'the?" "I don't fancy pensive, preoccupied men in these times. Why didn'the fill his box, instead of selfishly keeping it all to himself?" "Perhaps he could not secure the company he wished. " "Who is it?" Mrs. Vosburgh asked. She was told, and gave Merwyn a longer scrutiny than the others. "Shall I go and give him your compliments and the message you spokeof at dinner?" resumed Mr. Vosburgh, in a low tone. "Was it Mr. Merwyn that called so late?" she asked, with a suddenintelligence in her eyes. Her father nodded, while the suggestion of a smile hovered abouthis mouth. "Just think of it, Marian!" said Mrs. Vosburgh. "We all might nowbe in that box if you had been like other girls. " "I am well content where I am. " During the remainder of the evening Mr. Vosburgh observed someevidences of suppressed excitement in Marian, and saw that shemanaged to get a glimpse of that box more than once. Long beforethe opera ended it was empty. He pointed out the fact, and said, humorously, "Mr. Merwyn evidently has something on his mind. " "I should hope so; and so have you, papa. Has he formally demandedmy hand with the condition that you stop the war, and inform thepoliticians that this is their quarrel, and that they must fightit out with toothpicks?" "No; his request was more modest than that. " "You think I am dying with curiosity, but I can wait until we gethome. " When they returned, Mr. Vosburgh went to his library, for he wassomewhat owlish in his habits. Marian soon joined him, and said: "You must retire as soon as youhave finished that cigar. Even the momentous Mr. Merwyn shall notkeep us up a second longer. Indeed, I am so sleepy already that I mayask you to begin your tale to-night, and end with 'to be continued. '" He looked at her so keenly that her color rose a little, then said, "I think, my dear, you will listen till I say 'concluded;'" and herepeated the substance of Merwyn's words. She heard him with a perplexed little frown. "What do you think Iought to do, papa?" "Do you remember the conversation we had here last June?" "Yes; when shall I forget it?" "Well, since you wish my opinion I will give it frankly. It thenbecame your ambition to make the most and best of men over whomyou had influence, if they were worth the effort. Merwyn has beenfaulty and unmanly, as he fully admits himself, but he has provedapparently that he is not commonplace. You must take your choice, either to resent the past, or to help him carry out his betterpurposes. He does not ask much, although no doubt he hopes for farmore. In granting his request you do not commit yourself to hishopes in the least. " "Well, papa, he said that I couldn't possess a woman's heart andcast him off in utter contempt, so I think I shall have to put himon probation. But he must be careful not to presume again. I canbe friendly to many, but a friend to very few. Before he suggeststhat relation he must prove himself the peer of other friends. " CHAPTER XX. "YOU THINK ME A COWARD. " MERWYN had not been long in the city before he was waited uponand asked to do his share towards sustaining the opera, and he hadcarelessly taken a box which had seldom been occupied. On the eveningafter his interview with Mr. Vosburgh, his feeling of suspense wasso great that he thought he could beguile a few hours with music. He found, however, that the light throng, and even the harmonioussounds, irritated, rather than diverted, his perturbed mind, andhe returned to his lonely home, and restlessly paced apartmentsrendered all the more dreary by their magnificence. He proved his solicitude in a way that led Mr. Vosburgh to smileslightly, for when that gentleman entered his office, Merwyn wasawaiting him. "I have only to tell you, " he said, in response to the young man'squestioning eyes, "that Miss Vosburgh accedes to your request asyou presented it to me;" and in parting he gave his hand with somesemblance of friendliness. Merwyn went away elated, feeling that he had gained all for whichhe had a right to hope. Eager as he was for the coming interviewwith Marian, he dreaded it and feared that he might be painfullyembarrassed. In this eagerness he started early for an eveningcall; but when he reached his destination, he hesitated, passingand repassing the dwelling before he could gather courage to enter. The young girl would have smiled, could she have seen her formersuitor, once so complacent and condescending. She certainly couldnot complain of lack of humility now. At last he perceived that two other callers had passed in, and hefollowed them, feeling that their presence would enable both himand the object of his thoughts to take refuge in conventionalities. He was right in this view, for with a scarcely perceptible increaseof color, and a polite bow, Marian received him as she would anyother mere calling acquaintance, introduced him to the two gentlemenpresent, and conversation at once became general. Merwyn did notremain long under constraint. Even Marian had to admit to herselfthat he acquitted himself well and promised better for the future. When topics relating to the war were broached, he not only talkedas loyally as the others, but also proved himself well informed. Mrs. Vosburgh soon appeared and greeted him cordially, for thelady was ready enough to entertain the hopes which his presenceagain inspired. He felt that his first call, to be in good taste, should be rather brief, and he took his departure before the others, Marian bowing with the same distant politeness that had characterizedher greeting. She made it evident that she had granted just what hehad asked and nothing more. Whether he could ever inspire anythinglike friendliness the future only would reveal. He had seriousdoubts, knowing that he suffered in contrast with even the guestsof the present evening. One was an officer home on sick-leave; theother exempted from military duty by reason of lameness, which didnot extend to his wit and conversational powers. Merwyn also knewthat he would ever be compared with those near friends now inVirginia. What did he hope? What could he hope? He scarcely knew, and wouldnot even entertain the questions. He was only too glad that the doorwas not closed to him, and, with the innate hopefulness of youth, he would leave the future to reveal its possibilities. He was sothoroughly his father's son that he would not be disheartened, andso thoroughly himself that the course he preferred would be theone followed, so far as was now possible. "Well?" said Mr. Vosburgh, when Marian came to the library to kisshim good-night. "What a big, long question that little word contains!" she cried, laughing, and there was a little exhilaration in her manner whichdid not escape him. "You may tell me much, little, or nothing. " "I will tell you nothing, then, for there is nothing to tell. I received and parted with Mr. Merwyn on his terms, and those youknow all about. Mamma was quite gracious, and my guests were politeto him. " "Are you willing to tell me what impression he made in respect tohis loyalty?" "Shrewd papa! You think this the key to the problem. Perhaps itis, if there is any problem. Well, so far as WORDS went he provedhis loyalty in an incidental way, and is evidently informing himselfconcerning events. If he has no better proof to offer than words, his probation will end unfavorably, even though he may not beimmediately aware of the fact. Of course, now that I have grantedhis request, I must be polite to him so long as he chooses to come. " "Was he as complacent and superior as ever?" "Whither is your subtlety tending? Are you, as well as mamma, anally of Mr. Merwyn? You know he was not. Indeed, I must admit that, in manner, he carried out the spirit of his request. " "Then, to use your own words, he was 'befittingly humble'? No, I amnot his ally. I am disposed to observe the results of your experiment. " "There shall be no experimenting, papa. Circumstances have enabledhim to understand me as well as he ever can, and he must act inview of what he knows me to be. I shall not seek to influence him, except by being myself, nor shall I lower my standard in his favor. " "Very well, I shall note his course with some interest. It isevident, however, that the uncertainties of his future action willnot keep either of us awake. " When she left him, he fell into a long revery, and his concludingthoughts were: "I doubt whether Marian understands herself in respectto this young fellow. She is too resentful. She does not feel theindifference which she seeks to maintain. The subtle, and, as yet, unrecognized instinct of her womanhood leads her to stand aloof. This would be the natural course of a girl like Marian towards a manwho, for any cause, had gained an unusual hold upon her thoughts. I must inform myself thoroughly in regard to this Mr. Merwyn. Thusfar her friends have given me little solicitude; but here is one, towards whom she is inclined to be hostile, that it may be well toknow all about. Even before she is aware of it herself, she is onthe defensive against him, and this, to a student of human nature, is significant. She virtually said to-night that he must win hisway and make his own unaided advances toward manhood. Ah, my littlegirl! if it was not in him ever to have greater power over you thanMr. Strahan, you would take a kindlier interest in his efforts. " If Marian idolized her father as she had said, it can readilybe guessed how much she was to him, and that he was not forgetfulof his purpose to learn more about one who manifested so deep aninterest in his daughter, and who possibly had the power to createa responsive interest. It so happened that he was acquainted withMr. Bodoin, and had employed the shrewd lawyer in some governmentaffairs. Another case had arisen in which legal counsel was required, and on the following day advice was sought. When this part of the interview was over, Mr. Vosburgh remarked, casually, "By the way, I believe you are acquainted with Mr. WillardMerwyn and his affairs. " "Yes, " replied the lawyer, at once on the alert. "Do your relations to Mr. Merwyn permit you to give me someinformation concerning him?" The attorney thought rapidly. His client had recently been inquiringabout Mr. Vosburgh, and, therefore, the interest was mutual. On general principles it was important that the latter should befriendly, for he was a secret and trusted agent of the government, and Mrs. Merwyn's course might render a friend at court essential. Although the son had not mentioned Marian's name, Mr. Bodoinshrewdly guessed that she was exerting the influence that had sogreatly changed the young man's views and plans. The calculatinglawyer had never imagined that he would play the role of match-maker, but he was at once convinced that, in the stormy and uncertaintimes, Merwyn could scarcely make a better alliance than the onehe meditated. Therefore with much apparent frankness the astutelawyer told Mr. Vosburgh all that was favorable to the young man. "I think he will prove an unusual character, " concluded the lawyer, "for he is manifesting some of his father's most characteristictraits, " and these were mentioned. "When, after attaining hismajority, the son returned from England, he was in many respectslittle better than a shrewd, self-indulgent boy, indifferentto everything but his own pleasure, but, for some reason, he hasgreatly changed. Responsibility has apparently sobered him and madehim thoughtful. I have also told him much about my old friend andclient, his father, and the young fellow is bent on imitating him. While he is very considerate of his mother and sisters, he hasidentified himself with his father's views, and has become a Northernman to the backbone. Even to a degree contrary to my advice, heinsists on investing his means in government bonds. " This information was eminently satisfactory, and even sagaciousMr. Vosburgh did not suspect the motives of the lawyer, whom heknew to be eager to retain his good-will, since it was in his powerto give much business to those he trusted. "I may become Merwyn's ally after all, if he makes good his ownand Mr. Bodoin's words, " was his smiling thought, as he returnedto his office. He was too wise, however, to use open influence with his daughter, or to refer to the secret interview. Matters should take their owncourse for the present, while he remained a vigilant observer, forMarian's interest and happiness were dearer to him than his ownlife. Merwyn sought to use his privilege judiciously, and concentratedall his faculties on the question of his standing in Marian'sestimation. During the first few weeks, it was evident that hisprogress in her favor was slow, if any were made at all. She waspolite, she conversed with him naturally and vivaciously on topicsof general interest, but there appeared to be viewless and impassablebarriers between them. Not by word or sign did she seek to influencehis action. She was extremely reticent about herself, and took pains to seemindifferent in regard to his life and plans, but she was beginningto chafe under what she characterized as his "inaction. " Givingto hospitals and military charities and buying United-States bondscounted for little in her eyes. "He parades his loyalty, and would have me think that he looks uponthe right to call on me as a great privilege, but he does not careenough about either me or the country to incur any risk or hardship. " Thoughts like these were beginning not only to rekindle her oldresentment, but also to cause a vague sense of disappointment. Merwyn had at least accomplished one thing, --he confirmed herfather's opinion that he was not commonplace. Travel, residenceabroad, association with well-bred people, and a taste for reading, had given him a finish which a girl of Marian's culture could notfail to appreciate. Because he satisfied her taste and eye, shewas only the more irritated by his failure in what she deemed theessential elements of manhood. In spite of the passionate wordshe had once spoken, she was beginning to believe that a cold, calculating persistency was the corner-stone of his character, thateven if he were brave enough to fight, he had deliberately decidedto take no risks and enjoy his fortune. If this were true, sheassured herself, he might shoulder the national debt if he chose, but he could never become her friend. Then came the terrible and useless slaughter of Fredericksburg. With the fatuity that characterized the earlier years of the war, the heroic army of the Potomac, which might have annihilated Lee onprevious occasions, was hurled against heights and fortificationsthat, from the beginning, rendered the attack hopeless. Marian's friends were exposed to fearful perils, but passed throughthe conflict unscathed. Her heart went out to them in a deeper andstronger sympathy than ever, and Merwyn in contrast lost correspondingly. During the remaining weeks of December, she saw that her fatherwas almost haggard from care and anxiety, and he was compelled tomake trips to Washington and even to the front. "The end has not come yet, " he had said to her, after one of theseflying visits. "Burnside has made an awful blunder, but he iseager to retrieve himself, and now has plans on foot that promisebetter. The disaffection among his commanding officers and troopsis what I am most afraid of--more, indeed, than of the rebel army. Unlike his predecessor, he is determined to move, to act, and Ithink we may soon hear of another great battle. " Letters from her friends confirmed this view, especially a briefnote from Lane, in which the writer, fearing that it might be hislast, had not wholly veiled his deep affection. "I am on the eveof participating in an immense cavalry movement, " it began, "andit may be some time before I can write to you again, if ever. " The anxiety caused by this missive was somewhat relieved bya humorous account of the recall of the cavalry force. She thenlearned, through her father, that the entire army was again on themove, and that another terrific battle would be fought in a day ortwo. "Burnside should cross the Rappahannock to-day or to-morrow, atthe latest, " Mr. Vosburgh had remarked at breakfast, to which hehad come from the Washington owl-train. It was the 20th of December, and when the shadows of the earlytwilight were gathering, Burnside had, in fact, massed his armyat the fords of the river, and his troops, "little Strahan" amongthem, were awaiting orders to enter the icy tide in the stealthyeffort to gain Lee's left flank. There are many veterans now livingwho remember the terrific "storm of wind, rain, sleet, and snow"that assailed the unsheltered army. It checked further advance moreeffectually than if all the rebel forces had been drawn up on thefarther shore. After a frightful night, the Union army was discoveredin the dawn by Lee. Even then Burnside would have crossed, and, in spite of his opponent'spreparations and every other obstacle, would have fought a battle, had he not been paralyzed by a foe with which no general couldcope, --Virginia mud. The army mired helplessly, supply trains couldnot reach it. With difficulty the troops were led back to theirold quarters, and so ended the disastrous campaigns of the year, so far as the army of the Potomac was concerned. The storm that drenched and benumbed the soldiers on the Rappahannockwas equally furious in the city of New York, and Mr. Vosburghsat down to dinner frowning and depressed. "It seems as if fate isagainst us, " he said. "This storm is general, I fear, and may provemore of a defence to Lee than his fortifications at Fredericksburg. It's bad enough to have to cope with treachery and disaffection. " "Treachery, papa?" "Yes, treachery, " replied her father, sternly. "Scoundrels in ourown army informed Washington disunionists of the cavalry movementof which Captain Lane wrote you, and these unmolested enemiesat the capital are in constant communication with Lee. When willour authorities and the North awake to the truth that this is alife-and-death struggle, and that there must be no more nonsense?" "Would to Heaven I were a man!" said the young girl. "At this verymoment, no doubt, Mr. Merwyn is enjoying his sumptuous dinner, whilemy friends may be fording a dark, cold river to meet their death. Oh! I can't eat anything to-night. " "Nonsense!" cried her mother, irritably. "Come, little girl, you are taking things too much to heart. I amvery glad you are not a man. In justice, I must also add that Mr. Merwyn is doing more for the cause than any of your friends. It sohappens that I have learned that he is doing a great deal of whichlittle is known. " "Pardon me, " cried the girl, almost passionately. "Any man whovoluntarily faces this storm, and crosses that river to-night orto-morrow, does infinitely more in my estimation. " Her father smiled, but evidently his appetite was flagging also, and he soon went out to send and receive some cipher despatches. Merwyn was growing hungry for some evidence of greater friendlinessthan he had yet received. Hitherto, he had never seen Marian alonewhen calling, and the thought had occurred that if he braved thestorm in paying her a visit, the effort might be appreciated. Onepart of his hope was fulfilled, for he found her drawing-room empty. While he waited, that other stormy and memorable evening when hehad sought to find her alone flashed on his memory, and he fearedthat he had made a false step in coming. This impression was confirmed by her pale face and distant greeting. In vain he put forth his best efforts to interest her. She remainedcoldly polite, took but a languid part in the conversation, and attimes even permitted him to see that her thoughts were preoccupied. He had been humble and patient a long time, and now, in spite ofhimself, his anger began to rise. Feeling that he had better take his leave while still underself-control, and proposing also to hint that she had failed somewhatin courtesy, he arose abruptly and said: "You are not well thisevening, Miss Vosburgh? I should have perceived the fact earlier. I wish you good-night. " She felt the slight sting of his words, and was in no mood toendure it. Moreover, if she had failed in such courtesy as he hada right to expect, he should know the reason, and she felt at themoment willing that he should receive the implied reproach. Therefore she said: "Pardon me, I am quite well. It is natural thatI should be a little distraite, for I have learned that my friendsare exposed to this storm, and will probably engage in anotherterrible battle to-morrow, or soon. " Again the old desperate expression, that she remembered so well, came into his eyes as he exclaimed, bitterly: "You think me a cowardbecause I remain in the city? What is this storm, or that battle, compared with what I am facing! Good-night;" and, giving her nochance for further words, he hastened away. CHAPTER XXI. FEARS AND PERPLEXITIES. MERWYN found the storm so congenial to his mood that he breastedit for hours before returning to his home. There, in weariness andreaction, he sank into deep dejection. "What is the use of anger?" he asked himself, as he renewed thedying fire in his room. "In view of all the past, she has morecause for resentment than I, while it is a matter of indifferenceto her whether I am angry or not. I might as well be incensed atice because it is cold, and she is ice to me. She has her standardand a circle of friends who come up to it. This I never have doneand never can do. Therefore she only tolerates me and is more thanwilling that I should disappear below her horizon finally. I was afool to speak the words I did to-night. What can they mean to herwhen nothing is left for me, apparently, but a safe, luxurious life?Such outbreaks can only seem hysterical or mere affectations, andthere shall be no more of them, let the provocation be what it may. Indeed, why should I inflict myself on her any more? I cannot saythat she has not a woman's heart, but I wronged and chilled itfrom the first, and cannot now retrieve myself. If I should go toher to-morrow, even in a private's uniform, she would give me herhand cordially, but she compares me with hundreds of thousands whoseem braver men than I. It is useless for me to suggest that I amdoing more than those who go to fight. Her thought would be: 'Ihave all the friends I need among more knightly spirits who arenot afraid to look brave enemies in the face, and without whom theNorth would be disgraced. Let graybeards furnish the sinews of war;let young men give their blood if need be. It is indeed strangethat a man's arm should be paralyzed, and his best hope in lifeblighted, by a mother!'" If he could have known Marian's thoughts and heard the conversationthat ensued with her father, he would not have been so despondent. When he left her so abruptly she again experienced the compunctionsshe had felt before. Whether he deserved it or not she could notshut her eyes to the severity of the wound inflicted, or to hissuffering. In vain she tried to assure herself that he did deserve it. Granting this, the thoughts asserted themselves: "Why am I calledupon to resent his course? Having granted his request to visit me, I might, at least, be polite and affable on his own terms. Becausehe wishes more, and perhaps hopes for more, this does not, as papasays, commit me in the least. He may have some scruple in fightingopenly against the land of his mother's ancestry. If that scruplehas more weight with him than my friendly regard, that is his affair. His words to-night indicated that he must be under some strongrestraint. O dear! I wish I had never known him; he perplexes andworries me. The course of my other friends is simple and straightforwardas the light. Why do I say other friends? He's not a friend at all, yet my thoughts return to him in a way that is annoying. " When her father came home she told him what had occurred, andunconsciously permitted him to see that her mind was disturbed. He did not smile quizzically, as some sagacious people would havedone, thus touching the young girl's pride and arraying it againsther own best interests, it might be. With the thought of herhappiness ever uppermost, he would discover the secret causes of herunwonted perturbation. Not only Merwyn--about whom he had satisfiedhimself--should have his chance, but also the girl herself. Mrs. Vosburgh's conventional match-making would leave no chance foreither. The profounder man believed that nature, unless interferedwith by heavy, unskilful hands, would settle the question rightly. He therefore listened without comment, and at first only remarked, "Evidently, Marian, you are not trying to make the most and bestof this young fellow. " "But, papa, am I bound to do this for people who are disagreeableto me and who don't meet my views at all?" "Certainly not. Indeed, you may have frozen Merwyn out of the listof your acquaintances already. " "Well, " replied the girl, almost petulantly, "that, perhaps, willbe the best ending of the whole affair. " "That's for you to decide, my dear. " "But, papa, I FEEL that you don't approve of my course. " "Neither do I disapprove of it. I only say, according to our bondto be frank, that you are unfair to Merwyn. Of course, if he isessentially disagreeable to you, there is no occasion for you tomake a martyr of yourself. " "That's what irritates me so, " said the girl, impetuously. "Hemight have made himself very agreeable. But he undervalued andmisunderstood me so greatly from the first that it was hard toforgive him. " "If he hadn't shown deep contrition and regret for that course Ishouldn't wish you to forgive him, even though his antecedents hadmade anything better scarcely possible. " "Come down to the present hour, then. What he asked of you is onething. I see what he wishes. He desires, at least, the friendshipthat I give to those who fulfil my ideal of manhood in these times. He has no right to seek this without meeting the conditions whichremove all hesitation in regard to others. It angers me that he doesso. I feel as if he were seeking to buy my good-will by donationsto this, that, and the other thing. He still misunderstands me. Why can't he realize that, to one of my nature, fording the icyRappahannock to-night would count for more than his writing checksfor millions?" "Probably he does understand it, and that is what he meant byhis words to-night, when he said, 'What is this storm, or what abattle?'" She was overwrought, excited, and off her guard, and spoke from adeep impulse. "A woman, in giving herself, gives everything. If hecan't give up a scruple--I mean if his loyalty is so slight thathis mother's wishes and dead ancestors--" "My dear little girl, you are not under the slightest obligationto give anything, " resumed her father, discreetly oblivious to thesignificance of her words. "If you care to give a little good-willand kindness to one whom you have granted the right to visit you, they will tend to confirm and develop the better and manly qualitieshe is now manifesting. You know I have peculiar faculties of findingout about people, and, incidentally and casually, I have informedmyself about this Mr. Merwyn. I think I can truly say that he isdoing all and more than could be expected of a young fellow in hiscircumstances, with the one exception that he does not put on ouruniform and go to the front. He may have reasons--very possibly, asyou think, mistaken and inadequate ones--which, nevertheless, arebinding on his conscience. What else could his words mean to-night?He is not living a life of pleasure-seeking and dissipation, like somany other young nabobs in the city. Apparently he has not soughtmuch other society than yours. Pardon me for saying it, but youhave not given him much encouragement to avoid the temptations thatare likely to assail a lonely, irresponsible young fellow. In onesense you are under no obligation to do this; in another, perhapsyou are, for you must face the fact that you have great influenceover him. This influence you must either use or throw away, asyou decide. You are not responsible for this influence; neither areyour friends responsible for the war. When it came, however, theyfaced the disagreeable and dangerous duties that it brought. " "O papa! I have been a stupid, resentful fool. " "No, my dear; at the worst you have been misled by generous andloyal impulses. Your deep sympathy with recent events has made youmorbid, and therefore unfair. To your mind Mr. Merwyn representedthe half-hearted element that shuns meeting what must be met atevery cost. If this were true of him I should share in your spirit, but he appears to be trying to be loyal and to do what he can inthe face of obstacles greater than many overcome. " "I don't believe he will ever come near me again!" she exclaimed. "Then you are absolved in the future. Of course we can make noadvances towards a man who has been your suitor. " Merwyn's course promised to fulfil her fear, --she now acknowledgedto herself that it was a fear, --for his visits ceased. She triedto dismiss him from her thoughts, but a sense of her unfairnessand harshness haunted her. She did not see why she had not takenher father's view, or why she had thrown away her influence thataccorded with the scheme of life to which she had pledged herself. The very restraint indicated by his words was a mystery, andmysteries are fascinating. She remembered, with compunction, thatnot even his own mother had sought to develop a true, manly spiritin him. "Now he is saying, " she thought, bitterly, "that I, too, am a fanatic, --worse than his mother. " Weeks passed and she heard nothing from him, nor did her fathermention his name. While her regret was distinct and positive, it must not be supposed that it gave her serious trouble. Indeed, the letters of Mr. Lane, and the semi-humorous journal of Strahanand Blauvelt, together with the general claims of society and herinterest in her father's deep anxieties, were fast banishing itfrom her mind, when, to her surprise, his card was handed to herone stormy afternoon, late in January. "I am sorry to intrude upon you, Miss Vosburgh, " he began, as sheappeared, "but--" "Why should you regard it as an intrusion, Mr. Merwyn?" "I think a lady has a right to regard any unwelcome society as anintrusion. " "Admitting even so much, it does not follow that this is an intrusion, "she said, laughing. Then she added, with slightly heightened color:"Mr. Merwyn, I must at least keep my own self-respect, and thisrequires an acknowledgment. I was rude to you when you last called. But I was morbid from anxiety and worry over what was happening. I had no right to grant your request to call upon me and then failin courtesy. " "Will you, then, permit me to renew my old request?" he asked, withan eagerness that he could not disguise. "Certainly not. That would imply such utter failure on my part! Youshould be able to forgive me one slip, remembering the circumstances. " "You have the most to forgive, " he replied, humbly. "I asked forlittle more than toleration, but I felt that I had not the rightto force even this upon you. " "I am glad you are inclined to be magnanimous, " she replied, laughing. "Women usually take advantage of that trait in men--whenthey manifest it. We'll draw a line through the evening of the 20thof December, and, as Jefferson says, in his superb impersonationof poor old Rip, 'It don't count. ' By the way, have you seen him?"she asked, determined that the conversation should take a differentchannel. "No; I have been busy of late. But pardon me, Miss Vosburgh, I'm forgetting my errand shamefully. Do not take the matter tooseriously. I think you have no reason to do so. Mr. Strahan is inthe city and is ill. I have just come from him. " Her face paled instantly, and she sank into a chair. "I beg of you not to be so alarmed, " he added, hastily. "I shallnot conceal anything from you. By the merest chance I saw himcoming up Broadway in a carriage, and, observing that he lookedill, jumped into a hack and followed him to his residence. You hadreason for your anxiety on December 20th, for he took a severe coldfrom exposure that night. For a time he made light of it, but atlast obtained sick-leave. He asked me to tell you--" "He has scarcely mentioned the fact that he was not well;" andthere was an accent of reproach in the young girl's tones. "I understand Strahan better than I once did, perhaps because betterable to understand him, " was Merwyn's quiet reply. "He is a brave, generous fellow, and, no doubt, wished to save you from anxiety. There has been no chance for him to say very much to me. " "Was he expected by his family?" "They were merely informed, by a telegram, that he was on his way. He is not so well as when he started. Naturally he is worse for thejourney. Moreover, he used these words, 'I felt that I was goingto be ill and wished to get home. '" "Has a physician seen him yet?" "Yes, I brought their family physician in the hack, which I had keptwaiting. He fears that it will be some time before his patient isout again. I have never been seriously ill myself, but I am sure--Imean, I have heard--that a few words often have great influence inaiding one in Strahan's condition to triumph over disease. It isoften a question of will and courage, you know. I will take a noteto him if you wish. Poor fellow! he may have his biggest fight onhand while the others are resting in winter quarters. " "I shall be only too glad to avail myself of your offer. Pleaseexcuse me a moment. " When she returned he saw traces of tears in her eyes. She asked, eagerly, "Will you see him often?" "I shall call daily. " "Would it be too much trouble for you to let me know how he is, should he be very seriously ill?" Then, remembering that this mightlead to calls more frequent than she was ready to receive, or thanhe would find it convenient to make, she added: "I suppose youare often down town and might leave word with papa at his office. I have merely a formal acquaintance with Mrs. Strahan and herdaughters, and, if Mr. Strahan should be very ill, I should haveto rely upon you for information. " "I shall make sure that you learn of his welfare daily until heis able to write to you, and I esteem it a privilege to render youthis service. " He then bowed and turned away, and she did not detain him. Indeed, her mind was so absorbed by her friend's danger that she could notthink of much else. The next day a note, addressed to Mr. Vosburgh, was left athis office, giving fuller particulars of Strahan's illness, whichthreatened to be very serious indeed. High fever had been developed, and the young soldier had lost all intelligent consciousness. Daysfollowed in which this fever was running its course, and Merwyn'sreports, ominous in spite of all effort to disguise the deep anxietyfelt by Strahan's friends, were made only through Mr. Vosburgh. Marian began to regret her suggestion that the information shouldcome in this way, for she now felt that Merwyn had received theimpression that his presence would not be agreeable. She was eagerfor more details and oppressed with the foreboding that she wouldnever see her light-hearted friend again. She was almost temptedto ask Merwyn to call, but felt a strange reluctance to do so. "I gave him sufficient encouragement to continue his visits, " shethought, "and he should distinguish between the necessity of comingevery day and the privilege of coming occasionally. " One evening her father looked very grave as he handed Marian thenote addressed to him. "O papa!" exclaimed the girl, "he's worse!" "Yes, I fear Strahan is in a very critical condition. I happenedto meet Merwyn when he left the note to-day, and the young fellowhimself looked haggard and ill. But he carelessly assured me thathe was perfectly well. He said that the crisis of Strahan's feverwas approaching, and that the indications were bad. " "Papa!" cried the girl, tearfully, "I can't endure this suspenseand inaction. Why would it be bad taste for us to call on Mrs. Strahan this evening? She must know how dear a friend Arthur is tome. I don't care for conventionality in a case like this. It seemscold-blooded to show no apparent interest, and it might do Arthurgood if he should learn that we had been there because of ouranxiety and sympathy. " "Well, my dear, what you suggest is the natural and loyal course, and therefore outweighs all conventionality in my mind. We'll goafter dinner. " Marian's doubt as to her reception by Mrs. Strahan was speedilydispelled, for the sorrow-stricken mother was almost affectionatein her welcome. "Arthur, in his delirium, often mentions your name, " she said, "andthen he is in camp or battle again, or else writing his journal. I have thought of sending for you, but he wouldn't have known you. He does not even recognize me, and has not for days. Our physiciancommands absolute quiet and as little change in those about him aspossible. What we should have done without Mr. Merwyn I scarcelyknow. He is with him now, and has watched every night since Arthur'sreturn. I never saw any one so changed, or else we didn't understandhim. He is tireless in his strength, and womanly in his patience. His vigils are beginning to tell on him sadly, but he says that hewill not give up till the crisis is past. If Arthur lives he willowe his life largely to one who, last summer, appeared too indolentto think of anything but his own pleasure. How we often misjudgepeople! They were boys and playmates together, and are both greatlychanged. O Miss Vosburgh, my heart just stands still with dreadwhen I think of what may soon happen. Arthur had become so manly, and we were so proud of him! He has written me more than once ofyour influence, and I had hoped that the way might open for ourbetter acquaintance. " "Do you think the crisis may come to-night?" Marian asked, withquivering lips. "Yes, it may come now at any hour. The physician will remain allnight. " "Oh, I wish I might know early in the morning. Believe me, I shallnot sleep. " "You shall know, Miss Vosburgh, and I hope you will come and seeme, whatever happens. You will please excuse me now, for I cannotbe away from Arthur at this time. I would not have seen any onebut you. " At one o'clock in the morning there was a ring at Mr. Vosburgh'sdoor. He opened it, and Merwyn stood there wrapped in his furcloak. "Will you please give this note to Miss Vosburgh?" he said. "I think it contains words that will bring welcome relief and hope. I would not have disturbed you at this hour had I not seen yourlight burning;" and, before Mr. Vosburgh could reply, he liftedhis hat and strode away. The note ran as follows: "MY DEAR MISS VOSBURGH:--Arthur became conscious a little beforetwelve. He was fearfully weak, and for a time his life appearedto flicker. I alone was permitted to be with him. After a while Iwhispered that you had been here. He smiled and soon fell into aquiet sleep. Our physician now gives us strong hopes. "Sincerely and gratefully yours, "CHARLOTTE STRAHAN. " Marian, who had been sleepless from thoughts more evenly dividedbetween her friend and Merwyn than she would have admitted evento herself, handed the note to her father. Her face indicated bothgladness and perplexity. He read and returned it with a smile. "Papa, " she said, "you have a man's straightforward common-sense. I am only a little half-girl and half-woman. Do you know, I almostfear that both Mrs. Strahan and Mr. Merwyn believe I am virtuallyengaged to Arthur. " "Their belief can't engage you, " said her father, laughing. "YoungStrahan will get well, thanks to you and Merwyn. Mrs. Strahan saidthat both were greatly changed. Merwyn certainly must have a hardynature, for he improves under a steady frost. " "Papa!" cried Marian, with a vivid blush, "you are a deeper and moredangerous ally of Mr. Menvyn than mamma. I am on my guard againstyou both, and I shall retire at once before you begin a panegyricthat will cease only when you find I am asleep. " "Yes, my dear, go and sleep the sleep of the unjust!" CHAPTER XXII. A GIRL'S THOUGHTS AND IMPULSES. SLEEP, which Marian said would cut short her father's threatenedpanegyrics of Merwyn, did not come speedily. The young girl hadtoo much food for thought. She knew that Mrs. Strahan had not, during the past summer, misunderstood her son's faithful nurse. In spite of all prejudiceand resentment, in spite of the annoying fact that he would intrudeso often upon her thoughts, she had to admit the truth that he wasgreatly changed, and that, while she might be the cause, she couldtake to herself no credit for the transformation. To others she hadgiven sincere and cordial encouragement. Towards him she had beenharsh and frigid. He must indeed possess a hardy nature, or elsea cold persistence that almost made her shiver, it was so indomitable. She felt that she did not understand him; and she both shrunk fromhis character and was fascinated by it. She could not now chargehim with disregard of her feelings and lack of delicacy. His visitshad ceased when he believed them to be utterly repugnant; he hadnot availed himself of the opportunity to see her often affordedby Strahan's illness, and had been quick to take the hint that hecould send his reports to her father. There had been no effort tomake her aware of his self-sacrificing devotion to her friend. Thething that was irritating her was that he could approach so nearlyto her standard and yet fail in a point that to her was vital. Hiscourse indicated unknown characteristics or circumstances, and shefelt that she could never give him her confidence and unreservedregard while he fell short of the test of manhood which she believedthat the times demanded. If underneath all his apparent changesfor the better there was an innate lack of courage to meet dangerand hardship, or else a cold, calculating purpose not to take theserisks, she would shrink from him in strong repulsion. She knewthat the war had developed not a few constitutional cowards, --mento be pitied, it is true, but with a commiseration that, in hercase, would be mingled with contempt. On the other hand, if hereasoned, "I will win her if I can; I will do all and more thanshe can ask, but I will not risk the loss of a lifetime's enjoymentof my wealth, " she would quietly say to him by her manner: "Enjoyyour wealth. I can have no part in such a scheme of existence; Iwill not give my hand, even in friendship, to a man who would doless than I would, were I in his place. " If her father was right, and he had scruples of conscience, or someother unknown restraint, she felt that she must know all beforeshe would give her trust and more. If he could not satisfy her onthese points, as others had done so freely and spontaneously, hehad no right to ask or expect more from her than ordinary courtesy. Having thus resolutely considered antidotes for a tendency towardsrelentings not at all to her mind, and met, as she believed, herfather's charge of unfairness, her thoughts, full of sympathy andhope, dwelt upon the condition of her friend. Recalling the pastand the present, her heart grew very tender, and she found that heoccupied in it a foremost place. Indeed, it seemed to her a speciesof disloyalty to permit any one to approach his place and that ofMr. Lane, for both formed an inseparable part of her new and moreearnest life. She, too, had changed, and was changing. As her nature deepened andgrew stronger it was susceptible of deeper and stronger influences. Under the old regime pleasure, excitement, triumphs of power thatministered to vanity, had been her superficial motives. To the degreethat she had now attained true womanhood, the influences that actupon and control a woman were in the ascendant. Love ceased to dwellin her mind as a mere fastidious preference, nor could marriageever be a calculating choice, made with the view of securing thegreatest advantages. She knew that earnest men loved her without athought of calculation, --loved her for herself alone. She calledthem friends now, and to her they were no more as yet. But theirdownright sincerity made her sincere and thoughtful. Her esteem andaffection for them were so great that she was not at all certainthat circumstances and fuller acquaintance might not develop herregard towards one or the other of them into a far deeper feeling. In their absence, their manly qualities appealed to her imagination. She had reached a stage in spiritual development where her woman'snature was ready for its supreme requirement. She could be morethan friend, and was conscious of the truth; and she believed thather heart would make a positive and final choice in accord withher intense and loyal sympathies. In the great drama of the warcentred all that ideal and knightly action that has ever been sofascinating to her sex, and daily conversation with her father hadenabled her to understand what lofty principles and great destinieswere involved. She had been shown how President Lincoln's proclamation, freeing the slaves, had aimed a fatal blow at the chief enemiesof liberty, not only in this land, but in all lands. Mr. Vosburghwas a philosophical student of history, and, now that she had becomehis companion, he made it clear to her how the present was linkedto the past. Instead of being imbued with vindictiveness towardsthe South, she was made to see a brave, self-sacrificing, but misledpeople, seeking to rivet their own chains and blight the future oftheir fair land. Therefore, a man like Lane, capable of appreciatingand acting upon these truths, took heroic proportions in her fancy, while Strahan, almost as delicate as a girl, yet brave as the best, won, in his straightforward simplicity, her deepest sympathy. Thefact that the latter was near, that his heart had turned to hereven from under the shadow of death, gave him an ascendency forthe time. "To some such man I shall eventually yield, " she assured herself, "and not to one who brings a chill of doubt, not to one unmasteredby loyal impulses to face every danger which our enemies dare meet. " Then she slept, and dreamt that she saw Strahan reaching out hishands to her for help from dark, unknown depths. She awoke sobbing, and, under the confused impulse of the moment, exclaimed: "He shall have all the help I can give; he shall live. While he is weaker, he is braver than Mr. Lane. He triumphed overhimself and everything. He most needs me. Mr. Lane is strong inhimself. Why should I be raising such lofty standards of self-sacrificewhen I cannot give love to one who most needs it, most deservesit?" CHAPTER XXIII. "MY FRIENDSHIP IS MINE TO GIVE. " STRAHAN'S convalescence need not be dwelt upon, nor the subtle aidgiven by Marian through flowers, fruit, and occasional calls uponhis mother. These little kindnesses were tonics beyond the physician's skill, and he grew stronger daily. Mrs. Strahan believed that things weretaking their natural course, and, with the delicacy of a lady, was content to welcome the young girl in a quiet, cordial manner. Merwyn tacitly accepted the mother's view, which she had not whollyconcealed in the sick-room, and which he thought had been confirmedby Marian's manner and interest. With returning health Strahan'sold sense of humor revived, and he often smiled and sighed overthe misapprehension. Had he been fully aware of Marian's mood, hemight have given his physician cause to look grave over an apparentreturn of fever. In the reticence and delicacy natural to all the actors in thislittle drama, thoughts were unspoken, and events drifted on inaccordance with the old relations. Merwyn's self-imposed duties ofnurse became lighter, and he took much-needed rest. Strahan feltfor him the strongest good-will and gratitude, but grew more andmore puzzled about him. Apparently the convalescent was absolutelyfrank concerning himself. He spoke of his esteem and regard forMarian as he always had done; his deeper affection he never breathedto any one, although he believed the young girl was aware of it, and he did not in the least blame her that she had no power to givehim more than friendship. Of his military plans and hopes he spoke without reserve to Merwyn, but in return received little confidence. He could not doubt thefaithful attendant who had virtually twice saved his life, but hesoon found a barrier of impenetrable reserve, which did not yieldto any manifestations of friendliness. Strahan at last came tobelieve that it veiled a deep, yet hopeless regard for Marian. Thisview, however, scarcely explained the situation, for he found hisfriend even more reticent in respect to the motives which kept hima civilian. "I'd give six months' pay, " said the young officer, on one occasion, "if we had you in our regiment, and I am satisfied that I couldobtain a commission for you. You would be sure of rapid promotion. Indeed, with your wealth and influence you could securea lieutenant-colonelcy in a new regiment by spring. Believe me, Merwyn, the place for us young fellows is at the front in thesetimes. My blood's up, --what little I have left, --and I'm bound tosee the scrimmage out. You have just the qualities to make a goodofficer. You could control and discipline men without bluster orundue harshness. We need such officers, for an awful lot of cadshave obtained commissions. " Merwyn had walked to a window so that his friend could not see hisface, and at last he replied, quietly and almost coldly: "Thereare some things, Strahan, in respect to which one cannot judge foranother. I am as loyal as you are now, but I must aid the cause inmy own way. I would prefer that you should not say anything moreon this subject, for it is of no use. I have taken my course, andshall reveal it only by my action. There is one thing that I cando, and shall be very glad to do. I trust we are such good friendsthat you can accept of my offer. Your regiment has been depleted. New men would render it more effective and add to your chances ofpromotion. It will be some time before you are fit for active service. I can put you in the way of doing more than your brother-officersin the regiment, even though you are as pale as a ghost. Opena recruiting office near your country home again, --you can act atpresent through a sergeant, --and I will give you a check which willenable you to add to the government bounty so largely that you cansoon get a lot of hardy country fellows. No one need know wherethe money comes from except ourselves. " Strahan laughed, and said: "It is useless for me to affectsqueamishness in accepting favors from you at this late day. Ibelieved you saved my life last summer, and now you are almost ashaggard as I am from watching over me. I'll take your offer in goodfaith, as I believe you mean it. I won't pose as a self-sacrificingpatriot only. I confess that I am ambitious. You fellows usedto call me 'little Strahan. ' YOU are all right now, but there aresome who smile yet when my name is mentioned, and who regard myshoulder-straps as a joke. I've no doubt they are already laughingat the inglorious end of my military career. I propose to provethat I can be a soldier as well as some bigger and more bewhiskeredmen. I have other motives also;" and his thought was, "Marian mayfeel differently if I can win a colonel's eagles. " Merwyn surmised as much, but he only said, quietly: "Your motivesare as good as most men's, and you have proved yourself a brave, efficient officer. That would be enough for me, had I not othermotives also. " "Hang it all! I would tell you my motives if you would be equallyfrank. " "Since I cannot be, you must permit me to give other proofsof friendship. Nor do I expect, indeed I should be embarrassed byreceiving, what I cannot return. " "You're an odd fish, Merwyn. Well, I have ample reason to give youmy faith and loyalty, as I do. Your proposition has put new lifeinto me already. I needn't spend idle weeks--" "Hold on. One stipulation. Your physician must regulate all youractions. Remember that here, as at the front, the physician is, attimes, autocrat. " Mervvyn called twice on Marian during his friend's convalescence, and could no longer complain of any lack of politeness. Indeed, hercourtesy was slightly tinged with cordiality, and she took occasionto speak of her appreciation of his vigils at Strahan's side. Beyondthis she showed no disposition towards friendliness. At the same, time, she could not even pretend to herself that she was indifferent. He piqued both her pride and her curiosity, for he made no furthereffort to reveal himself or to secure greater favor than shevoluntarily bestowed. She believed that her father looked upon hercourse as an instance of feminine prejudice, of resentment prolongedunnaturally and capriciously, --that he was saying to himself, "Aman would quarrel and have done with it after amends were made, but a woman--" "He regards this as my flaw, my weakness, wherein I differ from himand his kind, " she thought. "I can't help it. Circumstances haverendered it impossible for me to feel toward Mr. Merwyn as towardother men. I have thought the matter out and have taken my stand. If he wishes more than I now give he must come up to my ground, for I shall not go down to his. " She misunderstood her father. That sagacious gentleman said nothing, and quietly awaited developments. It was a glad day for Arthur Strahan when, wrapped and muffledbeyond all danger, he was driven, in a close carriage, to make anafternoon visit to Marian. She greeted him with a kindness thatwarmed his very soul, and even inspired hopes which he had, as yet, scarcely dared to entertain. Time sped by with all the old easyinterchange of half-earnest nonsense. A deep chord of truth andaffection vibrated through even jest and merry repartee. Yet, soprofound are woman's intuitions in respect to some things, that, now she was face to face with him again, she feared, before an hourpassed, that he could never be more to her than when she had givenhim loyal friendship in the vine-covered cottage in the country. "By the way, " he remarked, abruptly, "I suppose you never punishedMerwyn as we both, at one time, felt that he deserved? He admitsthat he calls upon you quite frequently, and speaks of you in termsof strongest respect. You know I am his sincere, grateful friendhenceforth. I don't pretend to understand him, but I trust him, and wish him well from the depths of my heart. " "I also wish him well, " Marian remarked, quietly. He looked at her doubtfully for a moment, then said, "Well, Isuppose you have reasons for resentment, but I assure you he haschanged very greatly. " "How do you know that, when you don't understand him?" "I do know it, " said the young fellow, earnestly. "Merwyn neverwas like other people. He is marked by ancestry; strong-willed, reticent on one side, proud and passionate on the other. My ownmother was not more untiring and gentle with me than he, yet if Itry to penetrate his reserve he becomes at once distant, and almostcold. When I thought he was seeking to amuse himself with you Ifelt like strangling him; now that I know he has a sincere respectfor you, if not more, I have nothing against him. I wish he wouldjoin us in the field, and have said as much to him more than once. He has the means to raise a regiment himself, and there are fewpossessing more natural ability to transform raw recruits intosoldiers. " "Why does he not join you in the field?" she asked, quickly, andthere was a trace of indignation in her tones. "I do not think he will ever speak of his reasons to any one. Atleast, he will not to me. " "Very well, " she said; and there was significance in her cold, quiet tones. "They result from no lack of loyalty, " earnestly resumed Strahan, who felt that for some reason he was not succeeding as his friend'sadvocate. "He has generously increased my chances of promotion bygiving me a large sum towards recruiting my regiment. " "After your hard experience, are you fully determined to go back?"she asked, with a brilliant smile. "Surely you have proved yourcourage, and, with your impaired health, you have a good reasonnot for leaving the task to stronger men. " "And take my place contentedly among the weaker ones in yourestimation?" he added, flushing. "How could you suggest or thinksuch a thing? Certainly I shall go back as soon as my physicianpermits, and I shall go to stay till the end, unless I am knockedover or disabled. " Her eyes flashed exultantly as she came swiftly to him. "Now youcan understand me, " she said, giving him her hand. "My friendshipand honor are for men like you and Mr. Lane and Mr. Blauvelt, whooffer all, and not for those who offer--MONEY. " "By Jove, Miss Marian, you make me feel as if I could storm Richmondsingle-handed. " "Don't think I say this in any callous disregard of what may happen. God knows I do not; but in times like these my heart chooses friendsamong knightly men who voluntarily go to meet other men as brave. Don't let us talk any more about Mr. Merwyn. I shall always treathim politely, and I have gratefully acknowledged my indebtedness forhis care of you. He understands me, and will give me no opportunityto do as you suggested, were I so inclined. His conversation isthat of a cultivated man, and as such I enjoy it; but there it allends. " "But I don't feel that I have helped my friend in your good gracesat all, " protested Strahan, ruefully. "Has he commissioned you to help him?" she asked, quickly. "No, no, indeed. You don't know Merwyn, or you never would haveasked that question. " "Well, I prefer as friends those whom I do know, who are notinshrouded in mystery or incased in reticence. No, Arthur Strahan, my friendship is mine to give, be it worth much or little. If hedoes not care enough for it to take the necessary risks, when thebare thought of shunning them makes you flush hotly, he cannothave it. All his wealth could not buy one smile from me. Now letall this end. I respect your loyalty to him, but I have my ownstandard, and shall abide by it;" and she introduced another topic. CHAPTER XXIV. A FATHER'S FORETHOUGHT. STRAHAN improved rapidly in health, and was soon able to divide histime between his city and his country home. The recruiting stationnear the latter place was successful in securing stalwart men, who were tempted by the unusually large bounties offered throughMerwyn's gift. The young officer lost no opportunities of visitingMarian's drawing-room, and, while his welcome continued as cordialas ever, she, nevertheless, indicated by a frank and almost sisterlymanner the true state of her feelings toward him. The impulsearising at the critical hour of his illness speedily died away. Hisrenewed society confirmed friendship, but awakened nothing more, and quieter thoughts convinced her that the future must reveal whather relations should be to him and to others. As he recovered health her stronger sympathy went out to Mr. Lane, who had not asked for leave of absence. "I am rampantly well, " he wrote, "and while my heart often travelsnorthward, I can find no plausible pretext to follow. I may receivea wound before long which will give me a good excuse, since, forour regiment, there is prospect of much active service while theinfantry remain in winter quarters. It is a sad truth that thearmy is discouraged and depleted to a degree never known before. Homesickness is epidemic. A man shot himself the other day becauserefused a furlough. Desertions have been fearfully numerous amongenlisted men, and officers have urged every possible excuse forleaves of absence. A man with my appetite stands no chance whatever, and our regimental surgeon laughs when I assure him that I amsuffering from acute heart-disease. Therefore, my only hope is awound, and I welcome our prospective raid in exchange for drearypicket duty. " Marian knew what picket duty and raiding meant in February weather, and wrote words of kindly warmth that sustained her friend throughhard, prosaic service. She also saw that her father was burdened with heavy cares andresponsibilities. Disloyal forces and counsels were increasing inthe great centres at the North, and especially in New York City. Therefore he was intrusted with duties of the most delicate anddifficult nature. It was her constant effort to lead him to forgethis anxieties during such evenings as he spent at home, and whenshe had congenial callers she sometimes prevailed upon him to takepart in the general conversation. It so happened, one evening, thatStrahan and Merwyn were both present. Seeing that the latter felta little de trop, Mr. Vosburgh invited him to light a cigar in thedining-room, and the two men were soon engaged in animated talk, the younger being able to speak intelligently of the feeling inEngland at the time. By thoughtful questions he also drew out hishost in regard to affairs at home. The two guests departed together, and Marian, observing the pleasedexpression on her father's face, remarked, "You have evidentlyfound a congenial spirit. " "I found a young fellow who had ideas and who was not averse toreceiving more. " "You can relieve my conscience wholly, papa, " said the young girl, laughing. "When Mr. Merwyn comes hereafter I shall turn him overto you. He will then receive ideas and good influence at theirfountain-head. You and mamma are inclined to give him so muchencouragement that I must be more on the defensive than ever. " "That policy would suit me exactly, " replied her father, witha significant little nod. "I don't wish to lose you, and I'm moreafraid of Merwyn than of all the rest together. " "More afraid of HIM!" exclaimed the girl, with widening eyes. "Of him. " "Why?" "Because you don't understand him. " "That's an excellent reason for keeping him at a distance. " "Reason, reason. What has reason to do with affairs of this kind?" "Much, in my case, I assure you. Thank you for forewarning me soplainly. " "I've no dark designs against your peace. " Nevertheless, these half-jesting words foreshadowed the future, so far as Mr. Vosburgh and Mr. Merwyn were concerned. Others wereusually present when the latter called, and he always seemed toenjoy a quiet talk with the elder man. Mrs. Vosburgh never failedin her cordiality, or lost hope that his visits might yet lead toa result in accordance with her wishes. Marian made much sport oftheir protege, as she called him, and, since she now treated him withthe same courtesy that other mere calling acquaintances received, the habit of often spending part of the evening at the modest homegrew upon him. Mr. Vosburgh soon discovered that the young manwas a student of American affairs and history. This fact led tooccasional visits by the young man to the host's library, whichwas rich in literature on these subjects. On one stormy evening, which gave immunity from other callers, Marian joined them, and was soon deeply interested herself. Suddenlybecoming conscious of the fact, she bade them an abrupt good-nightand went to her room with a little frown on her brow. "It's simply exasperating, " she exclaimed, "to see a young fellowof his inches absorbed in American antiquities when the honor andliberty of America are at stake. Then, at times, he permits suchan expression of sadness to come into his big black eyes! He isdistant enough, but I can read his very thoughts, and he thinksme obduracy itself. He will soon return to his elegant home andproceed to be miserable in the most luxurious fashion. If he wereriding with Mr. Lane, to-night, on a raid, he would soon distinguishbetween his cherished woe and a soldier's hardships. " Nevertheless, she could do little more than maintain a mentalprotest at his course, in which he persevered unobtrusively, yetunfalteringly. There was no trace of sentiment in his manner towardher, nor the slightest conscious appeal for sympathy. His conversationwas so intelligent, and at times even brilliant, that she could nothelp being interested, and she observed that he resolutely chosesubjects of an impersonal character, shunning everything relatingto himself. She could not maintain any feeling approaching contempt, and the best intrenchment she could find was an irritated perplexity. She could not deny that his face was growing strong in its manlybeauty. Although far paler and thinner than when she had firstseen it, a heavy mustache and large, dark, thoughtful eyes relievedit from the charge of effeminacy. Every act, and even his tones, indicated high breeding, and she keenly appreciated such things. His reserve was a stimulus to thought, and his isolated life wasunique for one in his position, while the fact that he sought herhome and society with so little to encourage him was strong andsubtle homage. More than all, she thought she recognized a traitin him which rarely fails to win respect, --an unfaltering will. Whatever his plans or purposes were, the impression grew strongerin her mind that he would not change them. "But I have a pride and a will equal to his, " she assured herself. "He can come thus far and no farther. Papa thinks I will yieldeventually to his persistence and many fascinations. Were thispossible, no one should know it until he had proved himself thepeer of the bravest and best of my time. " Winter had passed, and spring brought not hope and gladness, butdeepening dread as the hour approached when the bloody strugglewould be renewed. Mr. Lane had participated in more than one cavalryexpedition, but had received no wounds. Strahan was almost readyto return, and had sent much good material to the thinned ranks ofhis regiment. His reward came promptly, for at that late day menwere most needed, and he who furnished them secured a leveragebeyond all political influence. The major in his regiment resignedfrom ill-health, and Strahan was promoted to the vacancy at once. He received his commission before he started for the front, andhe brought it to Marian with almost boyish pride and exultation. He had called for Merwyn on his way, and insisted on having hiscompany. He found the young fellow nothing loath. Merwyn scarcely entertained the shadow of a hope of anything morethan that time would soften Marian's feelings toward him. The warcould not last forever. Unexpected circumstances might arise, anda steadfast course must win a certain kind of respect. At any rateit was not in his nature to falter, especially when her tolerancewas parting with much of its old positiveness. His presence undoubtedlyhad the sanction of her father and mother, and for the former hewas gaining an esteem and liking independent of his fortunes withthe daughter. Love is a hardy plant, and thrives on meagre sustenance. It was evident that the relations between Marian and Strahan werenot such as he had supposed during the latter's illness. Her respectand friendship he would have, if it took a lifetime to acquirethem. He would not be balked in the chief purpose of his life, or retreat from the pledge, although it was given in the agony ofhumiliation and defeat. As long as he had reason to believe thather hand and heart were free, it was not in human nature to abandonall hope. On this particular evening Mr. Vosburgh admitted the young men, and Marian, hearing Strahan's voice, called laughingly from theparlor: "You are just in time for the wedding. I should have beenengaged to any one except you. " "Engaged to any one except me? How cruel is my fate!" "Pardon me, " began Merwyn quickly, and taking his hat again; "Ishall repeat my call at a time more opportune. " Marian, who had now appeared, said, in polite tones: "Mr. Merwyn, stay by all means. I could not think of separating two such friends. Our waitress has no relatives to whom she can go, therefore we aregiving her a wedding from our house. " "Then I am sure there is greater reason for my leave-takingat present. I am an utter stranger to the bride, and feel that mypresence would seem an intrusion to her, at least. Nothing at thistime should detract from her happiness. Good-evening. " Marian felt the force of his words, and was also compelled torecognize his delicate regard for the feelings of one in humblestation. She would have permitted him to depart, but Mr. Vosburghinterposed quickly: "Wait a moment, Mr. Merwyn; I picked up a rarebook, down town, relating to the topic we were discussing the otherevening. Suppose you go up to my library. I'll join you there, forthe ceremony will soon be over. Indeed, we are now expecting thegroom, his best man, and the minister. It so happens that the happypair are Protestants, and so we can have an informal wedding. " "Oh, stay, Merwyn, " said Strahan. "It was I who brought you here, and I shouldn't feel that the evening was complete without you. " The former looked doubtfully at Marian, who added, quickly: "Youcannot refuse papa's invitation, Mr. Merwyn, since it removes theonly scruple you can have. It is, perhaps, natural that the brideshould wish to see only familiar faces at this time, and it wasthoughtful of you to remember this, but, as papa says, the affairwill soon be over. " "And then, " resumed Strahan, "I have a little pie to show you, MissMarian, in which Merwyn had a big finger. " "I thought that was an affair between ourselves, " said Merwyn, throwing off his overcoat. "Oh, do not for the world reveal any of Mr. Merwyn's secrets!"cried the girl. "It is no secret at all to you, Miss Marian, nor did I ever intendthat it should be one, " Strahan explained. "Mr. Merwyn, you labor under a disadvantage in your relationswith Mr. Strahan. He has friends, and friendship is not based onreticence. " "Therefore I can have no friends, is the inference, I suppose. " "That cannot be said while I live, " began the young officer, warmly;but here a ring at the door produced instant dispersion. "I supposeI can be present, " Strahan whispered to Marian. "Barney Ghegan isan older acquaintance of mine than of yours, and your pretty waitresshas condescended to smile graciously on me more than once, althoughmy frequent presence at your door must have taxed her patience. " "You have crossed her palm with too much silver, I fear, to makefrowns possible. Silver, indeed! when has any been seen? But moneyin any form is said to buy woman's smiles. " "Thank Heaven it doesn't buy yours. " "Hush! Your gravity must now be portentous. " The aggressive Barney, now a burly policeman, had again broughtpretty Sally Maguire to terms, and on this evening received thereward of his persistent wooing. After the ceremony and a substantialsupper, which Mrs. Vosburgh graced with her silver, the couple tooktheir brief wedding journey to their rooms, and Barney went on dutyin the morning, looking as if all the world were to his mind. When Mr. Vosburgh went up to his library his step was at firstunnoted, and he saw his guest sitting before the fire, lost in agloomy revery. When observed, he asked, a little abruptly: "Is thematter to which Mr. Strahan referred a secret which you wish kept?" "Oh, no! Not as far as I am concerned. What I have done is abagatelle. I merely furnished a little money for recruiting purposes. " "It is not a little thing to send a good man to the front, Mr. Merwyn. " "Nor is it a little thing not to go one's self, " was the bitterreply. Then he added, hastily, "I am eager to see the book to whichyou refer. " "Pardon me, Mr. Merwyn, your words plainly reveal your inclination. Would you not be happier if you followed it?" "I cannot, Mr. Vosburgh, nor can I explain further. Therefore, I must patiently submit to all adverse judgment. " The words werespoken quietly and almost wearily. "I suppose that your reasons are good and satisfactory. " "They are neither good nor satisfactory, " burst out the young manwith sudden and vindictive impetuosity. "They are the curse of mylife. Pardon me. I am forgetting myself. I believe you are friendlyat least. Please let all this be as if it were not. " Then, as ifthe possible import of his utterance had flashed upon him, he drewhimself up and said, coldly, "If, under the circumstances, you feelI am unworthy of trust--" "Mr. Merwyn, " interrupted his host, "I am accustomed to deal withmen and to be vigilantly on my guard. My words led to what haspassed between us, and it ends here and now. I would not give youmy hand did I not trust you. Come, here is the book;" and he ledthe way to a conversation relating to it. Merwyn did his best to show a natural interest in the subject, butit was evident that a tumult had been raised in his mind difficultto control. At last he said: "May I take the book home? I willreturn it after careful reading. " Mr. Vosburgh accompanied him to the drawing-room, and Mariansportively introduced him to Major Strahan. For a few minutes he was the gayest and most brilliant member ofthe party, and then he took his leave, the young girl remarking, "Since you have a book under your arm we cannot hope to detain you, for I have observed that, with your true antiquarian, the longerpeople have been dead the more interesting they become. " "That is perfectly natural, " he replied, "for we can form all sortsof opinions about them, and they can never prove that we are wrong. " "More's the pity, if we are wrong. Good-night. " "Order an extra chop, Merwyn, and I'll breakfast with you, " criedStrahan. "I've only two days more, you know. " "Well, papa, " said Marian, joining him later in the library, "didyou and Mr. Merwyn settle the precise date when the Dutch tookHolland?" "'More's the pity, if we ARE wrong!' I have been applying yourwords to the living rather than to the dead. " "To Mr. Merwyn, you mean. " "Yes. " "Has he been unbosoming himself to you?" "Oh, no, indeed!" "Why then has he so awakened your sympathy?" "I fear he is facing more than any of your friends. " "And, possibly, fear is the reason. " "I do not think so. " "It appears strange to me, papa, that you are more ready to trustthan I am. If there is nothing which will not bear the light, whyis he so reticent even to his friend?" "I do not know the reasons for his course, nor am I sure that theywould seem good ones to me, but my knowledge of human nature isat fault if he is not trustworthy. I wish we did know what burdenshis mind and trammels his action. Since we do not I will admit, to-night, that I am glad you feel toward him just as you do. " "Papa, you entertain doubts at last. " "No, I admit that something of importance is unknown and bids fairto remain so, but I cannot help feeling that it is something forwhich he is not to blame. Nevertheless, I would have you take nosteps in the dark, were the whole city his. " "O papa! you regard this matter much too seriously. What steps hadI proposed taking? How much would it cost me to dispense with hissociety altogether?" "I do not know how much it might cost you in the end. " "Well, you can easily put the question to the test. " "That I do not propose to do. I shall not act as if what may bea great misfortune was a fault. Events will make everything clearsome day, and if they clear him he will prove a friend whom I, atleast, shall value highly. He is an unusual character, one thatinterests me greatly, whatever future developments may reveal. Itwould be easy for me to be careless or arbitrary, as I fear manyfathers are in these matters. I take you into my confidence andreveal to you my thoughts. You say that your reason has much todo with this matter. I take you at your word. Suspend judgment inregard to Merwyn. Let him come and go as he has done. He will notpresume on such courtesy, nor do you in any wise commit yourself, even to the friendly regard that you have for others. For yoursake, Marian, for the chances which the future may bring, I shouldbe glad if your heart and hand were free when I learn the wholetruth about this young fellow. I am no match-maker in the vulgaracceptation of the word, but I, as well as you, have a deep interestat stake. I have informed myself in regard to Mr. Merwyn, senior. The son appears to have many of the former's traits. If he can nevermeet your standard or win your love that ends the matter. But, inspite of everything, he interests you deeply, as well as myself;and were he taking the same course as your friend who has justleft, he would stand a better chance than that friend. You see howfrank I am, and how true to my promise to help you. " Marian came and leaned her arm on his shoulder as she lookedthoughtfully into the glowing grate. At last she said: "I am grateful for your frankness, papa, andunderstand your motives. Many girls would not make the sad blundersthey do had they such a counsellor as you, one who can be frankwithout being blunt and unskilful. In respect to these subjects, even with a daughter, there must be delicacy as well as precisionof touch. " "There should also be downright common-sense, Marian, a recognitionof tacts and tendencies, of what is and what may be. On one sidea false delicacy often seals the lips of those most interested, until it is too late to speak; on the other, rank, wealth, andlike advantages are urged without any delicacy at all. These havetheir important place, but the qualities which would make yourhappiness sure are intrinsic to the man. You know it is in my lineto disentangle many a snarl in human conduct. Look back on thepast without prejudice, if you can. Merwyn virtually said that hewould make your standard of right and wrong his, --that he wouldmeasure things as you estimate them, with that difference, of course, inherent in sex. Is he not trying to do so? Is he not acting, withone exception, as you would wish? Here comes in the one thing wedon't understand. As you suggest, it may be a fatal flaw in themarble, but we don't know this. The weight of evidence, in my mind, is against it. His course toward Strahan--one whom he might easilyregard as a rival--is significant. He gave him far more thanmoney; he drained his own vitality in seeking to restore his friendto health. A coarse, selfish man always cuts a sorry figure in asick-room, and shuns its trying duties even in spite of the strongestobligations. You remember Mrs. Strahan's tribute to Merwyn. Yetthere was no parade of his vigils, nor did he seek to make capitalout of them with you. Now I can view all these things dispassionately, as a man, and, as I said before, they give evidence of an unusualcharacter. Apparently he has chosen a certain course, and he hasthe will-power to carry it out. Your heart, your life, are stillyour own. All I wish is that you should not bestow them so hastilyas not to secure the best possible guaranties of happiness. Thisyoung man has crossed your path in a peculiar way. You have immenseinfluence over him. So far as he appears free to act you influencehis action. Wait and see what it all means before you come to anydecision about him. Now, " he concluded, smiling, "is my common-senseapplied to these affairs unnatural or unreasonable?" "I certainly can wait with great equanimity, " she replied, laughing, "and I admit the reasonableness of what you say as you put it. Norcan I any longer affect any disguises with you. Mr. Merwyn DOESinterest me, and has retained a hold upon my thoughts which hasannoyed me. He has angered and perplexed me. It has seemed as ifhe said, 'I will give you so much for your regard; I will not give, however, what you ask. ' As you put it to-night, it is the same asif he said, 'I cannot. ' Why can he not? The question opens unpleasantvistas to my mind. It will cost me little, however, to do as youwish, and my curiosity will be on the qui vive, if nothing more. " CHAPTER XXV. A CHAINED WILL. IN due time Strahan departed, hopeful and eager to enter on theduties pertaining to his higher rank. He felt that Marian's farewellhad been more than she had ever given him any right to expect. Her manner had ever been too frank and friendly to awaken delusivehopes, and, after all, his regard for her was characterized moreby boyish adoration than by the deep passion of manhood. To hissanguine spirit the excitement of camp and the responsibilities ofhis new position formed attractions which took all poignant regretfrom his leave-taking, and she was glad to recognize this truth. She had failed signally to carry out her self-sacrificing impulse, when he was so ill, to reward his heroism and supplement his lifewith her own; and she was much relieved to find that he appearedsatisfied with the friendship she gave, and that there was noneed of giving more. Indeed, he made it very clear that he was nota patriotic martyr in returning to the front, and his accounts ofarmy life had shown that the semi-humorous journal, kept by himselfand Blauvelt, was not altogether a generous effort to conceal fromher a condition of dreary duty, hardship, and danger. Life in thefield has ever had its fascinations to the masculine nature, andher friends were apparently finding an average enjoyment equalto her own. She liked them all the better for this, since, to hermind, it proved that that the knightly impulses of the past wereunspent, --that, latent in the breasts of those who had seemed meresociety fellows, dwelt the old virile forces. "I shall prove, " she assured herself, proudly, "that since true menare the same now as when they almost lived in armor, so ladies intheir bowers have favors only for those to whom heroic action issecond nature. " Blauvelt had maintained the journal during Strahan's absence, doingmore with pencil than pen, and she had rewarded him abundantlyby spicy little notes, full of cheer and appreciation. She hadno scruples in maintaining this correspondence, for in it she hadher father's sanction, and the letters were open to her parents'inspection when they cared to see them. Indeed, Mr. And Mrs. Vosburgh enjoyed the journal almost as much as Marian herself. After Strahan's departure, life was unusually quiet in the younggirl's home. Her father was busy, as usual, and at times anxious, for he was surrounded by elements hostile to the government. Aware, however, that the army of the Potomac was being largely reinforced, that General Hooker was reorganizing it with great success, andthat he was infusing into it his own sanguine spirit, Mr. Vosburghgrew hopeful that, with more genial skies and firmer roads, a blowwould be struck which would intimidate disloyalty at the North aswell as in the South. Marian shared in this hopefulness, although she dreaded to thinkhow much this blow might cost her, as well as tens of thousands ofother anxious hearts. At present her mind was at rest in regard to Mr. Lane, for he hadwritten that his regiment had returned from an expedition on whichthey had encountered little else than mud, sleet, and rain. Theprospects now were that some monotonous picket-duty in a regionlittle exposed to danger would be their chief service, and thatthey would be given time to rest and recruit. This lull in the storm of war was Merwyn's opportunity. The inclementevenings often left Marian unoccupied, and she divided her timebetween her mother's sitting-room and her father's library, whereshe often found her quondam suitor, and not infrequently he spentan hour or two with her in the parlor. In a certain sense she hadaccepted her father's suggestions. She was studying the enigma witha lively curiosity, as she believed, and had to admit to herselfthat the puzzle daily became more interesting. Merwyn pleased herfastidious taste and interested her mind, and the possibilitiessuggested by her own and her father's words made him an objectof peculiar and personal interest. The very uniqueness of theirrelations increased her disposition to think about him. It mightbe impossible that he should ever become even her friend; he mightbecome her husband. Her father's remark, "I don't know how much itmight cost you to dismiss him finally, " had led to many questionings. Other young men she substantially understood. She could gauge theirvalue, influence, and attractiveness almost at once; but whatpossibilities lurked in this reticent man who came so near her ideal, yet failed at a vital point? The wish, the effort to understandhim, gave an increasing zest to their interviews. He had asked herto be his wife. She had understood him then, and had replied as shewould again if he should approach her in a similar spirit. Again, at any hour he would ask her hand if she gave him sufficientencouragement, and she knew it. He would be humility itself in suingfor the boon, and she knew this also, yet she did not understandhim at all. His secret fascinated her, yet she feared it. It mustbe either some fatal flaw in his character, or else a powerfulrestraint imposed from without. If it was the former she would shrinkfrom him at once; if the latter, it would indeed be a triumph, aproof of her power, to so influence him that he would make her thefirst consideration in the world. Every day, however, increased her determination to exert thisinfluence only by firmly maintaining her position. If he wishedher friendship and an equal chance with others for more, he mustprove himself the equal of others in all respects. By no wordswould she ever now hint that he should take their course; but sheallowed herself to enhance his motives by permitting him to seeher often, and by an alluring yet elusive courtesy, of which shewas a perfect mistress. This period was one of mingled pain and pleasure to Merwyn. Remembering his interview with Mr. Vosburgh, he felt that he hadbeen treated with a degree of confidence that was even generous. Buthe knew that from Mr. Vosburgh he did not receive full trust, --thatthere were certain topics which each touched upon with restraint. Even with the father he was made to feel that he had reached thelimit of their friendly relations. They could advance no fartherunless the barrier of his reserve was broken down. He believed that he was dissipating the prejudices of the daughter;that she was ceasing to dislike him personally. He exerted everyfaculty of his mind to interest her; he studied her tastes and viewswith careful analysis, that he might speak to her intelligentlyand acceptably. The kindling light in her eyes, and her animatedtones, often proved that he succeeded. Was it the theme wholly thatinterested her? or was the speaker also gaining some place in herthoughts? He never could be quite certain as to these points, andyet the impression was growing stronger that if he came some dayand said, quietly, "Good-by, Miss Vosburgh, I am going to face everydanger which any man dare meet, " she would give him both hands infriendly warmth, and that there would be an expression on her facewhich had never been turned towards him. A stormy day, not far from the middle of April, ended in a stormierevening. Marian had not been able to go out, and had suffereda little from ennui. Her mother had a headache, Mr. Vosburgh hadgone to keep an appointment, and the evening promised to be aninterminable one to the young girl. She unconsciously wished thatMerwyn would come, and half-smilingly wondered whether he wouldbrave the storm to see her. She was not kept long in suspense, for he soon appeared with a bookwhich he wished to return, he said. "Papa is out, " Marian began, affably, "and you will have to becontent with seeing me. You have a morbidly acute conscience, Mr. Merwyn, to return a book on a night like this. " "My conscience certainly is very troublesome. " Almost before she was aware of it the trite saying slipped out, "Honest confession is good for the soul. " "To some souls it is denied, Miss Vosburgh;" and there was a traceof bitterness in his tones. Then, with resolute promptness, heresumed their usual impersonal conversation. While they talked, the desire to penetrate his secret grew strongupon the young girl. It was almost certain that they would not beinterrupted, and this knowledge led her to yield to her mood. Shefelt a strange relenting towards him. A woman to her finger-tips, she could not constantly face this embodied mystery without anincreasing desire to solve it. Cold curiosity, however, was not thechief inspiration of her impulse. The youth who sat on the oppositeside of the glowing grate had grown old by months as if they wereyears. His secret was evidently not only a restraint, but a wearingburden. By leading her companion to reveal so much of his troubleas would give opportunity for her womanly ministry, might she not, in a degree yet unequalled, carry out her scheme of life to makethe "most and best of those over whom she had influence"? "Many brood over an infirmity, a fault, or an obligation till theygrow morbid, " she thought. "I might not be able to show him whatwas best and right, but papa could if we only knew. " Therefore her words and tones were kinder than usual, and she madeslight and delicate references to herself, that he might be led tospeak of himself. At last she hit upon domestic affairs as a safe, natural ground of approach, and gave a humorous account of some ofher recent efforts to learn the mysteries of housekeeping, and shedid not fail to observe his wistful and deeply-interested expression. Suddenly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, sheremarked: "I do not see how you manage to keep house in that great, empty mansion of yours. " "You know, then, where I live?" "Oh, yes. I saw you descend the steps of a house on Madison Avenueone morning last fall, and supposed it was your home. " "You were undoubtedly right. I can tell you just how I manage, orrather, how everything IS managed, for I have little to do with thematter. An old family servant looks after everything and providesme with my meals. She makes out my daily menu according to her 'ownwill, ' which is 'sweet' if not crossed. " "Indeed! Are you so indifferent? I thought men gave much attentionto their dinners. " "I do to mine, after it is provided. Were I fastidious, old Cynthywould give me no cause for complaint. Then I have a man who looksafter the fires and the horses, etc. I am too good a republican tokeep a valet. So you see that my domestic arrangements are simplein the extreme. " "And do those two people constitute your whole household?" sheasked, wondering at a frankness which seemed complete. "Yes. The ghosts and I have the house practically to ourselves mostof the time. " "Are there ghosts?" she asked, laughing, but with cheeks that beganto burn in her kindling interest. "There are ghosts in every house where people have lived and died;that is, if you knew and cared for the people. My father is withme very often!" "Mr. Merwyn, I don't understand you!" she exclaimed, without tryingto disguise her astonishment. The conversation was so utterly unlikeanything that had occurred between them before that she wonderedwhither it was leading. "I fear you are growing morbid, " she added. "I hope not. Nor will you think so when I explain. Of course nothinglike gross superstition is in my mind. I remember my father verywell, and have heard much about him since he died. Therefore hehas become to me a distinct presence which I can summon at will. The same is true of others with whom the apartments are associated. If I wish I can summon them. " "I am at a loss to know which is the greater, your will or yourimagination. " "My imagination is the greater. " "It must be great, indeed, " she said, smiling alluringly, "forI never knew of one who seemed more untrammelled in circumstancesthan you are, or more under the dominion of his own will. " "Untrammelled!" he repeated, in a low, almost desperate tone. "Yes, " she replied, warmly, --"free to carry out every generous andnoble impulse of manhood. I tell you frankly that you have led meto believe that you have such impulses. " His face became ashen in its hue, and he trembled visibly. Heseemed about to speak some words as if they were wrung from him, then he became almost rigid in his self-control as he said, "Thereare limitations of which you cannot dream;" and he introduced atopic wholly remote from himself. A chill benumbed her very heart, and she scarcely sought to preventit from tingeing her words and manner. A few moments later thepostman left a letter. She saw Lane's handwriting and said, "Willyou pardon me a moment, that I may learn that my FRIEND is well?" Glancing at the opening words, her eyes flashed with excitementas she exclaimed: "The campaign has opened! They are on the marchthis stormy night. " "May I ask if your letter is from Strahan?" Merwyn faltered. "It is not from Mr. Strahan, " she replied, quietly. He arose and stood before her as erect and cold as herself. "Willyou kindly give Mr. Vosburgh that book?" he said. "Certainly. " "Will you also please say that I shall probably go to my countryplace in a day or two, and therefore may not see him again verysoon. " She was both disappointed and angry, for she had meant kindly byhim. The very consciousness that she had unbent so greatly, andhad made what appeared to her pride an unwonted advance, incensedher, and she replied, in cold irony: "I will give papa your message. It will seem most natural to him, now that spring has come, thatyou should vary your mercantile with agricultural pursuits. " He appeared stung to the very soul by her words, and his handsclinched in his desperate effort to restrain himself. His white lipsmoved as he looked at her from eyes full of the agony of a woundedspirit. Suddenly his tense form became limp, and, with a slightdespairing gesture, he said, wearily: "It is of no use. Good-by. " CHAPTER XXVI. MARIAN'S INTERPRETATION OF MERWYN. Shallow natures, like shallow waters, are easily agitated, and outwardmanifestations are in proportion to the shallowness. Superficialobservers are chiefly impressed by visible emotion and tumult. With all her faults, Marian had inherited from her father a strongnature. Her intuitions had become womanly and keen, and Merwyn'sdumb agony affected her more deeply than a torrent of impetuouswords or any outward evidence of distress. She went back to her chairand shed bitter tears; she scarcely knew why, until her father'svoice aroused her by saying, "Why, Marian dear, what IS the matter?" "Oh, I am glad you have come, " she said. "I have caused so muchsuffering that I feel as if I had committed a crime;" and she gavean account of the recent interview. "Let me reassure you, " said her father, gravely. "You did meankindly by Merwyn, and you gave him, without being unwomanly, thebest chance he could possibly have to throw off the incubus thatis burdening his life. If, with the opportunity he had to-night, and under the influence of his love, he did not speak, his secretis one of which he cannot speak. At least, I fear it is one ofwhich he dares not speak to you, lest it should be fatal to him andall his hopes. I cannot even guess what it is, but at all eventsit is of a serious nature, too grave to be regarded any longer assecondary in our estimate of Mr. Merwyn's character. The shadow ofthis mystery must not fall on you, and I am glad he is going away. I hoped that your greater kindness and mine might lead him to revealhis trouble, that we could help him, and that a character in manyrespects so unique and strong might be cleared of its shadows. Inthis case we might not only have rendered a fellow-being a greatservice, but also have secured a friend capable of adding much toour happiness. This mystery, however, proves so deep-rooted andinscrutable that I shall be glad to withdraw you from his influenceuntil time and circumstance make all plain, if they ever can. These old families often have dark secrets, and this young man, in attaining his majority and property, has evidently become thepossessor of one of them. In spite of all his efforts to do wellit is having a sinister influence over his life, and this influencemust not extend to yours. The mere fact that he does not take anactive part in the war is very subordinate in itself. Thousandswho might do this as well as he are very well content to stay athome. The true aspect of the affair is this: A chain of circumstances, unforeseen, and uncaused by any premeditated effort on our part, haspresented to his mind the most powerful motives to take a naturalpart in the conflict. It has gradually become evident that thesecret of his restraint is a mystery that affects his whole being. Therefore, whether it be infirmity, fault, or misfortune, he has noright to impose it on others, since it seems to be beyond remedy. Do you not agree with me?" "I could not do otherwise, papa. Yet, remembering how he lookedto-night, I cannot help being sorry for him, even though my mindinclines to the belief that constitutional timidity restrains him. I never saw a man tremble so, and he turned white to his very lips. Papa, have you read 'The Fair Maid of Perth'?" "Yes. " "Don't you remember MacIan, the young chief of Clan Quhele? Thischaracter always made a deep impression on me, awakening at thesame time pity and the strongest repulsion. I could never understandhim. He was high-born, and lived at an age when courage was thecommonest of traits, while its absence was worse than crime. Forthe times he was endowed with every good quality except the powerto face danger. This from the very constitution of his being hecould not do, and he, beyond all others, understood his infirmity, suffering often almost mortal agony in view of it. For some reasonI have been led to reread this story, and, in spite of myself, thatwretched young Scottish chieftain has become associated in my mindwith Willard Merwyn. He said to-night that his imagination wasstronger than his will. I can believe it from his words. His deadfather and others have become distinct presences to him. In thesame way he calls up before his fancy the horrors of a battle-field, and he finds that he has not the power to face them, that he cannotdo it, no matter what the motives may be. He feels that he wouldbe simply overwhelmed with horror and faint-heartedness, and he istoo prudent to risk the shame of exposure. " "Well, " said her father, sighing, as if he were giving up a pleasingdream, "you have thought out an ingenious theory which, if true, explains Merwyn's course, perhaps. A woman's intuitions are subtle, and often true, but somehow it does not satisfy me, even though Ican recall some things which give color to your view. Still, whateverbe the explanation, all MUST be explained before we can give himmore than ordinary courtesy. " It soon became evident that Merwyn had gone to his country place, for his visits ceased. The more Marian thought about him, --and shedid think a great deal, --the more she was inclined to believe thather theory explained everything. His very words, "You think me acoward, " became a proof, in her mind, that he was morbidly sensitiveon this point, and ever conscious of his infirmity. He was tooready to resent a fancied imputation on his courage. She strove to dismiss him from her thoughts, but with only partialsuccess. He gave her the sense of being baffled, defeated. Whatcould be more natural than that a high-spirited young man shouldenter the army of his own free will? He had not entered it evenwith her favor, possibly her love, as a motive. Yet he sought herfavor as if it were the chief consideration of existence. With hertheory, and her ideal of manhood, he was but the mocking shadow ofa man, but so real, so nearly perfect, that she constantly chafedat the defect. Even her father had been deeply impressed by therare promise of his young life, --a promise which she now believedcould never be kept, although few might ever know it. "I must be right in my view, " she said. "He proves his loyalty byan unflagging interest in our arms, by the gift of thousands. Heis here, his own master. He would not shun danger for the sake ofhis cold-hearted mother, from whom he seems almost estranged. Hissisters are well provided for, and do not need his care. He does notlive for the sake of pleasure, like many other young men. MercifulHeaven! I blush even to think the words, much more to speak them. Why does he not go, unless his fear is greater than his love for me?why is he not with Lane and Strahan, unless he has a constitutionaldread that paralyzes him? He is the Scottish chieftain, MacIan, over again. All I can do now is to pity him as one to whom Naturehas been exceedingly cruel, for every fibre in my being shrinksfrom such a man. " And so he came to dwell in her mind as one crippled, from birth, in his very soul. Meanwhile events took place which soon absorbed her attention. Lane's letter announcing the opening of the campaign proved a falsealarm, although, from a subsequent letter, she learned that he hadhad experiences not trifling in their nature. On the rainy night, early in April, that would ever be memorable to her, she had saidto Merwyn, "The army is on the march. " This was true of the cavalry corps, and part of it even crossed theupper waters of the Rappahannock; but the same storm which dashedthe thick drops against her windows also filled the river tooverflowing, and the brave troopers, recalled, had to swim theirhorses in returning. Lane was among these, and his humorous accountof the affair was signed, "Your loyal amphibian!" A young girl of Marian's temperament is a natural hero-worshipper, and he was becoming her hero. Circumstances soon occurred whichgave him a sure place in this character. By the last of April, not only the cavalry, but the whole army, moved, the infantry taking position on the fatal field of Chancellorsville. Then came the bloody battle, with its unspeakable horrors anddefeat. The icy Rappahannock proved the river of death to thousandsand thousands of brave men. Early in May the Union army, baffled, depleted, and discouraged, wasagain in its old quarters where it had spent the winter. Apparentlythe great forward movement had been a failure, but it was the causeof a loss to the Confederate cause from which it never recovered, --thatof "Stonewall" Jackson. So transcendent were this man's boldnessand ability in leading men that his death was almost equivalent tothe annihilation of a rebel army. He was a typical character, theembodiment of the genius, the dash, the earnest, pure, but mistakenpatriotism of the South. No man at the North more surely believedhe was right than General Jackson, no man more reverently asked God'sblessing on efforts heroic in the highest degree. He representedthe sincere but misguided spirit which made every sacrifice possibleto a brave people, and his class should ever be distinguished fromthe early conspirators who were actuated chiefly by ambition andselfishness. His death also was typical, for he was wounded by a volley fired, through misapprehension, by his own men. The time will come whenNorth and South will honor the memory of Thomas J. Jackson, while, at the same time, recognizing that his stout heart, active brain, and fiery zeal were among the chief obstructions to the united andsublime destiny of America. The man's errors were due to causesover which he had little control; his noble character was due tohimself and his faith in God. Many days passed before Marian heard from Lane, and she then learnedthat the raid in which he had participated had brought him withintwo miles of Richmond, and that he had passed safely through greatdangers and hardships, but that the worst which he could say ofhimself was that he was "prone to go to sleep, even while writingto her. " The tidings from her other friends were equally reassuring. Theirregiment had lost heavily, and Blauvelt had been made a captain almostin spite of himself, while Strahan was acting as lieutenant-colonel, since the officer holding that rank had been wounded. There was adash of sadness and tragedy in the journal which the two young menforwarded to her after they had been a few days in their old campat Falmouth, but Strahan's indomitable humor triumphed, and theircrude record ended in a droll sketch of a plucked cock tryingto crow. She wrote letters so full of sympathy and admiration oftheir spirit that three soldiers of the army of the Potomac soonrecovered their morale. The month of May was passing in mocking beauty to those whose hopesand happiness were bound up in the success of the Union armies. Notonly had deadly war depleted Hooker's grand army, but the expirationof enlistments would take away nearly thirty thousand more. Mr. Vosburgh was aware of this, and he also found the disloyal elementsby which he was surrounded passing into every form of hostileactivity possible within the bounds of safety. Men were beginning totalk of peace, at any cost, openly, and he knew that the Southernleaders were hoping for the beginning at any time of a counter-revolutionat the North. The city was full of threatening rumors, intrigues, and smouldering rebellion. Marian saw her father overwhelmed with labors and anxieties, andletters from her friends reflected the bitterness then felt by thearmy because the North appeared so half-hearted. "Mr. Merwyn, meanwhile, " she thought, "is interesting himself inlandscape-gardening. If he has one spark of manhood or courage hewill show it now. " The object of this reproach was living almost the life of a hermitat his country place, finding no better resource, in his desperateunrest and trouble, than long mountain rambles, which broughtphysical exhaustion and sleep. He had not misunderstood Marian's final words and manner. Delicately, yet clearly, she had indicated the steps he must take to vindicatehis character and win her friendship. He felt that he had becomepale, that he had trembled in her presence. What but cowardicecould explain his manner and account for his inability to confirmthe good impression he had made by following the example of herother friends? From both his parents he had inherited a naturesensitive to the last degree to any imputation of this kind. Toreceive it from the girl he loved was a hundred-fold more bitterthan death, yet he was bound by fetters which, though unseen byall, were eating into his very soul. The proud Mrs. Merwyn was aslave-holder herself, and the daughter of a long line of slave-owners;but never had a bondsman been so chained and crushed as was herson. For weeks he felt that he could not mingle with other men, much less meet the girl to whom manly courage was the corner-stoneof character. One evening in the latter part of May, as Mr. Vosburgh and hisfamily were sitting down to dinner, Barney Ghegan, the policeman, appeared at their door with a decent-looking, elderly coloredwoman and her lame son. They were refugees, or "contrabands, " asthey were then called, from the South, and they bore a letter fromCaptain Lane. It was a scrap of paper with the following lines pencilled uponit:-- "MR. VOSBURGH, No. -- -- ST. : I have only time for a line. MammyBorden will tell you her story and that of her son. Their actionand other circumstances have enlisted my interest. Provide thememployment, if convenient. At any rate, please see that they wantnothing, and draw on me. Sincere regard to you all. --In haste, "LANE, Captain. -- --U. S. Cav. " CHAPTER XXVII. "DE HEAD LINKUM MAN WAS CAP'N LANE. " It can be well understood that the two dusky strangers, recommendedby words from Lane, were at once invested with peculiar interestto Marian. Many months had elapsed since she had seen him, butall that he had written tended to kindle her imagination. This hadbeen the more true because he was so modest in his accounts of theservice in which he had participated. She had learned what cavalrycampaigning meant, and read more meaning between the lines thanthe lines themselves conveyed. He was becoming her ideal knight, on whom no shadow rested. From first to last his course had beenas open as the day, nor had he, in any respect, failed to reachthe highest standard developed by those days of heroic action. If this were true when "Mammy Borden" and her son appeared, thereader can easily believe that, when they completed their story, Captain Lane was her Bayard sans peur et sans reproche. Barney explained that they had met him in the street and askedfor Mr. Vosburgh's residence; as it was nearly time for him to berelieved of duty he told them that in a few moments he could guidethem to their destination. Marian's thanks rewarded him abundantly, and Mrs. Vosburgh told him that if he would go to the kitchen heshould have a cup of coffee and something nice to take home to hiswife. They both remained proteges of the Vosburghs, and receivedfrequent tokens of good-will and friendly regard. While these werein the main disinterested, Mr. Vosburgh felt that in the possibilitiesof the future it might be to his advantage to have some men in thepolice force wholly devoted to his interests. The two colored refugees were evidently hungry and weary, and, eager as Marian was to learn more of her friend when informed thathe had been wounded, she tried to content herself with the fact thathe was doing well, until the mother and son had rested a littleand had been refreshed by an abundant meal. Then they were summonedto the sitting-room, for Mr. And Mrs. Vosburgh shared in Marian'sdeep solicitude and interest. It was evident that their humble guests, who took seats deferentiallynear the door, had been house-servants and not coarse plantationslaves, and in answer to Mr. Vosburgh's questions they spoke in abetter vernacular than many of their station could employ. "Yes, mass'r, " the woman began, "we seed Mass'r Lane, --may de Lordbress 'im, --and he was a doin' well when we lef. He's a true Linkumman, an' if all was like him de wah would soon be ended an' decullud people free. What's mo', de white people of de Souf wouldn'tbe so bitter as dey now is. " "Tell us your story, mammy, " said Marian, impatiently; "tell useverything you know about Captain Lane. " A ray of intelligence lighted up the woman's sombre eyes, for shebelieved she understood Marian's interest, and at once determinedthat Lane's action should lose no embellishment which she couldhonestly give. "Well, missy, it was dis away, " she said. "My mass'r and his sonswas away in de wah. He own a big plantation an' a great many slabes. My son, Zeb dar, an' I was kep' in de house. I waited on de missusan' de young ladies, an' Zeb was kep' in de house too, 'kase hewas lame and 'kase dey could trus' him wid eberyting an' dey knewit. "Well, up to de time Cap'n Lane come we hadn't seen any ob deLinkum men, but we'd heared ob de prockermation an' know'd we wasfree, far as Mass'r Linkum could do it, an' Zeb was jus' crazy togit away so he could say, 'I'se my own mass'r. ' I didn't feel dataway, 'kase I was brought up wid my missus, an' de young ladieswas a'most like my own chillen, an' we didn't try to get away likesome ob de plantation han's do. "Well, one ebenin', short time ago, a big lot ob our sogers comemarchin' to our house--dey was hoss sogers--an' de missus an' deyoung ladies knew some of de ossifers, an' dey flew aroun' an' gotup a big supper fo' dem. We all turned in, an' dar was hurry-skurryall ober de big house, fo' de ossifers sed dey would stay all nightif de sogers ob you-uns would let dem. Dey said de Linkum sogerswas comin' dat away, but dey wouldn't be 'long afore de mawnin', an' dey was a-gwine to whip dem. All was light talk an' larfin' an'jingle ob sabres. De house was nebber so waked up afo'. De youngladies was high-strung an' beliebed dat one ob our sogers could whipten Linkum men. In de big yard betwixt de house an' de stables demen was feedin' dere hosses, an' we had a great pot ob coffee bilin'fo' dem, too, an' oder tings, fo' de missus sed dere sogers mus'hab eberyting she had. "Well, bimeby, as I was helpin' put de tings on de table, I hearedshots way off at de foot ob de lawn. Frontin' de house dar was alawn mos' half a mile long, dat slope down to de road, and de Linkumsogers was 'spected to come dat away, an' dere was a lookout fordem down dar. As soon as de ossifers heared de shots dey rush outan' shout to dere men, an' dey saddle up in a hurry an' gallop outin de lawn in front of de house an' form ranks. " "How many were there?" Marian asked, her cheeks already burningwith excitement. "Law, missy, I doesn't know. Dere was a right smart lot--hundredsI should tink. " "Dere was not quite two hundred, missy, " said Zeb; "I counted dem;"and then he looked towards his mother, who continued. "De young ladies an' de missus went out on de verandy dat look downde lawn, and Missy Roberta, de oldest one, said, 'Now, maumy, youcan see the difference between our sogers an' de Linkum men, asyou call dem. ' Missy Roberta had great black eyes an' was allusa-grievin' dat she wasn't a man so she could be a soger, but MissyS'wanee had blue eyes like her moder, an' was as full ob frolicas a kitten. She used ter say, 'I doesn't want ter be a man, fer Ikin make ten men fight fer me. ' So she could, sho' 'nuff, fer allde young men in our parts would fight de debil hisself for de sakeob Missy S'wanee. " "Go on, go on, " cried Marian; "the Northern soldiers were coming--" "Deed, an' dey was, missy, --comin' right up de lawn 'fore our eyes, an' dribin' in a few ob our sogers dat was a-watchin' fer dem byde road; dey come right 'long too. I could see dere sabres flashin'in de sunset long way off. One ossifer set dere men in ranks, andden de oder head ossifer come ridin' up to de verandy, an' MissyRoberta gave de ribbin from her ha'r to de one dey call cunnel, an' de oder ossifer ask Missy S'wanee fer a ribbin, too. She larfan' say, 'Win it, an' you shall hab it. ' Den off dey gallop, MissyRoberta cryin' arter dem, 'Don't fight too fa' away; I want to seede Linkum hirelin's run. ' Den de words rung out, 'For'ard, march, trot, ' an' down de lawn dey went. De Linkum men was now in plainsight. Zeb, you tell how dey look an' what dey did. I was so afeardfer my missus and de young ladies, I was 'mos' out ob my mind. " "Well, mass'r and ladies, " said Zeb, rising and making a respectfulbow, "I was at an upper window an' could see eberyting. De Linkummen was trottin' too, an' comin' in two ranks, one little way'hind de toder. Right smart way afore dese two ranks was a lineof calvary-men a few feet apart from each oder, an' dis line reachacross de hull lawn to de woods on de oder side. I soon seed datdere was Linkum sogers in de woods, too. Dey seemed sort ob outsidesogers all aroun' de two ranks in de middle. Dey all come on fas', not a bit afeard, an' de thin line in front was firin' at oursogers dat had been a-watchin' down by de road, an' our sogers wasa-firin' back. "Bimeby, soon, bofe sides come nigh each oder, den de thin lineob Linkum men swept away to de lef at a gallop, an' our sogers an'de fust rank ob Linkum men run dere hosses at each oder wid loudyells. 'Clar to you, my heart jus' stood still. Neber heard suchhorrid noises, but I neber took my eyes away, for I beliebed I sawmy freedom comin'. Fer a while I couldn't tell how it was gwine;dere was nothin' but clash ob sabres, an' bofe sides was all mixedup, fightin' hand ter hand. "I was wonderin' why de second rank of Linkum men didn't do nothin', for dey was standin' still wid a man on a hoss, out in front obdem. Suddenly I heard a bugle soun', an' de Linkum men dat wasfightin' gave way to right an' lef, an' de man on de hoss wave hissword an' start for'ard at a gallop wid all his men arter him. Denour sogers 'gan to give back, fightin' as dey came. Dey was brave, dey was stubborn as mules, but back dey had to come. De head Linkumossifer was leadin' all de time. I neber seed such a man, eberytingan' eberybody guv way afo' him. De oder Linkum sogers dat I thoughtwas whipped wasn't whipped at all, fer dey come crowdin' aroun'arter de head ossifer, jes' as peart as eber. "Front ob de house our ossifers an' sogers made a big stan', ferde missus an' de young ladies stood right dar on de verandy, wabin'dere hankerchiefs an' cryin' to dem to dribe de Yankee back. I knowedmy moder was on de verandy, an' I run to her, an' sho' 'nuff, darshe was stan'in' right in front of Missy S'wanee an' 'treating demissus an' de young ladies ter go in, fer de bullets was now flyin'tick. But dey wouldn't go in, an' Missy Roberta was wringin' herhan's, an' cryin', 'Oh, dat I was a man!' De cunnel, de oder ossifer, an' a lot ob our sogers wouldn't give back an inch. Dar dey was, fightin' right afore our eyes. De rest ob dere sogers was givin'way eb'rywhar. De Linkum sogers soon made a big rush togedder. Decunnel's hoss went down. In a minute dey was surrounded; some waskilled, some wounded, an' de rest all taken, 'cept de young ossiferdat Missy S'wanee tole to win her colors. He was on a po'ful bighoss, an' he jes' break right through eb'ryting, an' was off widde rest. De Linkum sogers followed on, firin' at 'em. "De missus fainted dead away, an' my moder held her in her arms. De head Linkum ossifer now rode up to de verandy an' took off hishat, an' he say: 'Ladies, I admire your co'age, but you should not'spose yourselves so needlessly. Should de vict'ry still remainwid our side, I promise you 'tection an 'munity from 'noyance!' "Den he bow an' gallop arter his men dat was chasin' our sogers, leabin' anoder ossifer in charge ob de pris'ners. De head Linkumman was Cap'n Lane. " "I knew it, I knew it, " cried Marian. "Ah! he's a friend to beproud of. " Her father and mother looked at her glowing cheeks and flashingeyes, and dismissed Merwyn from the possibilities of the future. CHAPTER XXVIIL The Signal Light. The colored woman again took up the thread of the story which wouldexplain her presence and her possession of a note from CaptainLane, recommending her and her son to Mr. Vosburgh's protection. "Yes, missy, " she said, "Cap'n Lane am a fren' ter be proud ob. Itinks he mus' be like Mass'r Linkum hisself, fer dere nebber was aman more braver and more kinder. Now I'se gwine ter tell yer whathappen all that drefful night, an' Zeb will put in his word 'boutwhat he knows. While de cap'n was a-speakin' to de young ladies, de missus jes' lay in my arms as ef she was dead. Missy Roberta, as she listen, stand straight and haughty, an' give no sign shehear, but Missy S'wanee, she bow and say, 'Tank you, sir!' Zebcalled some ob de house-servants, an' we carry de missus to herroom, an' de young ladies help me bring her to. Den I stayed widher, a-fannin' her an' a-cheerin' an' a-tellin' her dat I knewCap'n Lane wouldn't let no harm come ter dem. Now, Zeb, you seedwhat happen downstars. " "Yes, mass'r an' ladies, I kep' my eyes out, fer I tinks my chanceis come now, if eber. Cap'n Lane soon come back an' said to deossifer in charge ob de pris'ners, --an' dere was more pris'nersbein' brought in all de time, --sez Cap'n Lane, 'De en'my won'tstand agin. I'se sent Cap'n Walling in pursuit, an' now we mus'make prep'rations fer de night. ' Den a man dey call a sergeant, who'd been a spyin' roun' de kitchen, an' lookin' in de dinin'-roomwinders, come up an' say something to Cap'n Lane; an' he come upto de doah an' say he like ter see one ob de ladies. I call MissyS'wanee, an' she come, cool an' lady-like, an' not a bit afeard, an' he take off his hat to her, an' say:-- "'Madam, I'se sorry all dis yer happen 'bout yer house, but I'secould not help it. Dere's a good many woun'ed, an' our surgeon isgwine ter treat all alike. I'se tole dat yer had coffee a-bilin'an' supper was ready. Now all I ask is, dat de woun'ed on bofesides shall have 'freshments fust, an' den ef dere's anyting lef', I'd like my ossifers to have some supper. ' Den he kinder smile ashe say, 'I know you 'spected oder company dis ebenin', an' when dewoun'ed is provided fer, de ossifers on your side can hab suppertoo. I hab ordered de hospital made in de out-buildin's, an' depriv'cy ob your home shall not be 'truded on. ' "'Cunnel, ' say Missy S'wanee. 'Plain Cap'n, ' he say, interrupting--'Cap'nLane. ' "'Cap'n Lane, she goes on, 'I tanks you fer your courtesy, an 'sideration. I did not 'spect it. Your wishes shall be carriedout. ' Den she says, 'I'se'll hab more supper pervided, an' we'll'spect you wid your ossifers;' for she wanted ter make fren's widhim, seein' we was all in his po'er. He says, 'No, madam, I'setake my supper wid my men. I could not be an unwelcome gues' in anyhouse, What I asks for my ossifers, I asks as a favor; I doesn'tdeman' it. ' Den he bows an' goes away. Missy S'wanee, she larf--shewas allus a-larfin' no matter what happen--an' she says, 'I'se'llget eben wid him. ' Well, de cap'n goes an' speaks to de cunnel, an' de oder captured ossifers ob our sogers, an' dey bow to him, an' den dey comes up an' sits on de verandy, an' Missy Roberta goesout, and dey talk in low tones, an' I couldn't hear what dey say. I was a-helpin' Missy S'wanee, an' she say to me, 'Zeb, could youeber tink dat a Yankee cap'n could be such a gemlin?' I didn't saynuffin', fer I didn't want anybody ter'spect what was in my min', but eb'ry chance I git I keep my eye on Cap'n Lane, fer I believedhe could gib us our liberty. He was aroun' 'mong de woun'ed, an'seein' ter buryin' de dead, an' postin' an' arrangin' his men;deed, an' was all ober eberywhar. "By dis time de ebenin' was growin' dark, de woun'ed and been caredfor, an' our ossifers an' de Linkum ossifers sat down to supper;an' dey talk an' larf as if dey was good fren's. Yer'd tink it wasa supper-party, ef dere hadn't been a strappin' big soger walkin'up an' down de verandy whar he could see in de winders. I help waitson de table, an' Missy Roberta, she was rudder still an' glum-like, but Missy S'wanee, she smiles on all alike, an' she say to deLinkum ossifers, 'I 'predate de court'sy ob your cap'n, eben do'he doesn't grace our board. I shall take de liberty, howsemeber, ob sendin' him some supper;' an' she put a san'wich an' some cakean' a cup ob coffee on a waiter an' sen' me out to him whar hewas sittin' by de fire in de edge ob de woods on de lawn. He smilean' say, 'Tell de young lady dat I drink to her health an' happiertimes. ' Den I gits up my co'age an' says, 'Cap'n Lane, I wants tersee yer when my work's done in de house. ' He say, 'All right, cometer me here. ' Den he look at me sharp an' say, 'Can I trus' yer?'An' I say, 'Yes, Mass'r Cap'n; I'se Linkum, troo an' troo. ' Den hewhisper in my ear de password, 'White-rose. '" Marian remembered that she had given him a white rose when he hadasked for her colors. He had made it his countersign on the eveningof his victory. "Arter supper our ossifers were taken down ter de oder pris'ners, an' guards walk aroun dem all night. I help clar up de tings, an'watch my chance ter steal away. At las' de house seem quiet. Itought de ladies had gone ter dere rooms, an' I put out de lightin de pantry, an' was watchin' an' waitin' an' listenin' to be sho'dat no one was 'roun, when I heared a step in de hall. De pantrydoah was on a crack, an' I peeps out, an' my bref was nigh tookaway when I sees a rebel ossifer, de one dat got away in de fight. He give a long, low whistle, an' den dere was a rustle in de hallabove, an' Missy Roberta came flyin' down de starway. I know dendat dere was mischief up, an' I listen wid all my ears. She say tohim, 'How awfully imprudent!' An' she put de light out in de hall, les' somebody see in. Den she say, 'Shell we go in de parlor?' Hesay, 'No, dere's two doahs here, each end de hall, an' a chanceter go out de winders, too. I mus' keep open ebery line ob retreat. Are dere any Yanks in de house?' She say, 'No, '--dat de Union cap'nvery 'sid'rate. 'Curse him!' sed de reb; 'he spoil my ebenin' widMiss S'wanee, but tell her I win her colors yet, an' pay dis Yankeecap'n a bigger interest in blows dan he eber had afo. ' Den he'splain how he got his men togedder, an' he foun' anoder 'tachment obrebs, an' how dey would all come in de mawnin', as soon as light, an' ride right ober eberyting, an' 'lease de cunnel an' all deoder pris'ners. Den he says, 'We'se a-comin' on de creek-road. Puta dim light in de winder facin' dat way, an' as long as we see itburnin' we'll know dat all's quiet an' fav'able, an' tell MissyS'wanee to hab her colors ready. Dey tought I was one oh de Yanksin de dark, when I come in, but gettin' away'll be more tick'lish. 'Den she say, 'Don't go out ob de doah. Drap from de parlor winderinter de shrub'ry, an' steal away troo de garden. ' While dey wasgone ter de parlor, I step out an' up de starway mighty sudden. Den I whip aroun' to de beginnin' ob de garret starway an' listen. Soon Missy Roberta come out de parlor an' look in de pantry an' deoder rooms, an' she sof'ly call me, 'kase she know I was las' up'round de house; but I'se ain't sayin' nuffin'. Den she go in demissus room, whar my moder was, an' soon she and Missy S'wanee cameout an' whisper, an' Missy S'wanee was a-larfin' how as ef she waspleased. Den Missy S'wanee go back to de missus, an' Missy Robertago to her room. "Now was my chance, an' I tuck off'n my shoes an' carried dem, an'I tank de Lord I heared it all, fer I says, 'Cap'n Lane'll give memy liberty now sho' 'nuff, when I tells him all. ' I'se felt sho'he'd win de fight in de mawnin', fer he seemed ob de winnin' kine. I didn't open any ob de doahs on de fust floah, but stole down inde cellar, 'kase I knowed ob a winder dat I could creep outen. Igot away from de house all right, an' went toward de fire where Ilef Cap'n Lane. Soon a gruff voice said, 'Halt!' I guv de passwordmighty sudden, an' den said, 'I want to see Cap'n Lane. ' De man callanoder soger, an' he come an' question me, an' den took me ter decap'n. An' he was a-sleepin' as if his moder had rocked 'im! Buthe was on his feet de moment he spoke to. He 'membered me, an' askef de mawnin' wouldn't answer. I say, 'Mass'r Cap'n, I'se got bignews fer yer. ' Den he wide awake sho' 'nuff, an' tuck me one side, an' I tole him all. 'What's yer name?' he says. 'Zeb Borden, ' Ianswers. Den he say: 'Zeb, you've been a good fren'. Ef I win defight in de mawnin' you shell hab your liberty. It's yours now, efyou can get away. ' I says I'se lame an' couldn't get away unlesshe took me, an' dat I wanted my moder ter go, too. Den he toughta minute, an' went back ter de fire an' tore out a little bookde paper we brought, an' he says, 'What your moder's name?' An' Isays, 'Dey call her Maumy Borden. ' Den he wrote de lines we bring, an' he says: 'No tellin' what happen in de mawnin'. Here's somemoney dat will help you 'long when you git in our lines. Dis myfust inderpendent comman', an' ef yer hadn't tole me dis I might a'los' all I gained. Be faithful, Zeb; keep yer eyes an' ears open, an' I'll take care ob yer. Now slip back, fer yer might be missed. '" "I got back to my lof' mighty sudden, an' I was jis' a-shakin'wid fear, for I beliebe dat Missy Roberta would a' killed me widher own hands ef she'd knowed. She was like de ole mass'r, mightyhaughty an' despit-like, when she angry. I wasn't in de lof' nonetoo soon, fer Missy Roberta was 'spicious and uneasy-like, an'she come to de head ob de gerret starway an' call my name. At fustI ain't sayin' suffin', an' she call louder. Den I say, 'Dat you, Missy Roberta?' Den she seem to tink dat I was all right. I slippedarter her down de starway an' listen, an' I know she gwine ter putde light in de winder. Den she go to her room again. "A long time pass, an' I hear no soun'. De house was so still datI done got afeard, knowin' dere was mischief up. Dere was a littlewinder in my lof lookin' toward de creek-road, an' on de leabesob some trees I could see a little glimmer ob de light dat MissyRoberta had put dar as a signal. Dat glimmer was jes' awful, ferI knowed it mean woun's and death to de sogers, an' liberty or noliberty fer me. Bimeby I heared steps off toward de creek-road, but dey soon die away. I watched an' waited ter'ble long time, an'de house an' all was still, 'cept de tread ob de guards. Mus' a'been about tree in de mawnin' when I heared a stir. It was veryquiet-like, an' I hear no words, but now an' den dere was a jinglelike a sabre make when a man walk. I stole down de starway an' lookouten a winder in de d'rection whar Cap'n Lane was, an' I see datde Linkum men had let all dere fires go out. It was bery dark. DenI hear Missy Roberta open her doah, an' I whip back ter my lof. She come soon an' had a mighty hard time wakin' me up. An' den shesay: 'Zeb, dere's sumpen goin' on 'mong de Yankee sogers. Listen. 'I says, 'I doesn't hear nuffin'. ' She says: 'Dere is; dey's a-saddlin'up, an' movin' roun'. I want you ter steal outen an' see what deyis doin', an' tell me. ' I says, 'Yes, missy. ' I tought de boleplan would be de bes' plan now, an' I put on my shoes an' went out. Putty soon I comes back and says to her, 'I axed a man, an' he toleme dey was changin' de guard. '--'Did de res' seem quiet?'--'Yes, missy, dey is sleepin' 'round under de trees. ' She seemed greatly'lieved, an' says, 'You watch aroun' an' tell me ef dere's anynews. ' I stole out again an' crep' up 'hind some bushes, an' denI sho' dat de Linkum men was a-slippin' away toward de creek-road, but de guards kep' walkin' 'roun de pris'ners, jes' de same. On asudden dere was a man right 'longside ob me, an' he say, 'Make anoise or move, an' you are dead. What are you doin' here?' I gaspout, 'White-rose, Cap'n Lane. '--'Oh, it's you, ' he say, wid a lowlarf. Fo' I could speak dere come a scream, sich as I neber heared, den anoder an' anoder. 'Dey comes from de missus' room. ' Den hesay, 'Run down dar an' ask de sergeant ob de guard to send treemen wid you, an' come quick!' Now moder kin tell yer what happened. I had lef de back hall doah unlocked, an' de cap'n went in like aflash. " "De good Lor' bress Cap'n Lane, " began the colored woman, "fer hecome just in time. De missus had been wakin' an' fearful-like mos'ob de night, but at las' we was all a-dozin'. I was in a char byher side, an' Missy S'wanee laid on a lounge. She hadn't undress, an' fer a long time seemed as if listenin'. At las' dere come alow knock, an' we all started up. I goes to de doah an' say, 'Who'sdar?'--'A message from Cap'n Lane, ' says a low voice outside. 'Opende doah, ' says Missy S'wanee; 'I'se not afeard ob him. ' De momentI slip back de bolt, a big man, wid a black face, crowds in an'say, 'Not a soun', as you valley your lives: I want yer jewelryan' watches;' an' he held a pistol in his hand. At fust we toughtit was a plantation han', fer he tried ter talk like a cullud man, an' Missy S'wanee 'gan ter talk ter him; but he drew a knife an'says, 'Dis won't make no noise, an' it'll stop yer noise ef yermake any. Not a word, but gib up eberyting. ' De missus was so beatout wid fear, dat she say, 'Gib him eberyting. ' An' Missy S'wanee, more'n half-dead, too, began to gib dere watches an' jewels. De manput dem in his pocket, an' den he lay his hands on Missy S'wanee, to take off her ring. Den she scream, an' I flew at 'im an' triedto tear his eyes out. Missy Roberta 'gan screamin', so we knowedshe was 'tacked too. De man was strong an' rough, an' whedder hewould a' killed us or not de Lord only knows, fer jes' den de doahflew wide open, an' Cap'n Lane stood dere wid his drawn sword. Ina secon' he seed what it all meant, an' sprung in an' grabbed derobber by de neck an' jerked him outen inter de hall. Den de man'gan ter beg fer mercy, an' tole his name. It was one of Cap'nLane's own sogers. At dis moment Missy Roberta rush outen her room, cryin', 'Help! murder!' Den we heared heaby steps rushing up destarway, an' tree ob Cap'n Lane's sogers dash for'ard. As soon asMissy Roberta see de cap'n wid de light from de open doah shinin'on his face, she comes an' ask, 'What does dis outrage mean?'--'Itmean dat dis man shell be shot in de mawnin', he say, in a chokin'kind ob voice, fer he seem almost too angry to speak. Den he ask, 'Were you 'tacked also?'--' Yes, ' she cried, 'dere's a man in myroom. '--'Which room?' An' she pointed to de doah. De fus' robberden made a bolt ter get away, but de cap'n's men cotch 'im. 'Tiehis han's 'hind his back, an' shoot him if he tries to run agin, 'said de cap'n; den he say to Missy Roberta: 'Go in your moder'sroom. Don't leave it without my permission. Ef dere is a man inyour room, he shall shar de fate ob dat villain dat I've 'spectedob bein' a tief afore. ' An' he went an' looken in Missy Roberta'sroom. In a few moments he come back an' say, 'Dere was a man dar, but he 'scape troo de winder on de verandy-roof. Ef I kin discober'im he shall die too. ' Den he say, grave an' sad-like: 'Ladies, dereis bad men in eb'ry army. I'se deeply mort'fied dat dis shouldhappen. You'll bar me witness dat I tried to save you from all'noyance. I know dis man, ' pointin' to a soger dat stood near, 'an' I'll put him in dis hall on guard. His orders are--you heardem--not to let any one come in de hall, an' not to let any oneleabe dis room. As long as yer all stay in dis room, you are safe, eben from a word. ' Missy S'wanee rush for'ard an' take his han', an'say, 'Eben ef you is my en'my you'se a gallant soger an' a gemlin, an' I tanks you. ' De cap'n smile an' bow, an' say, 'In overcomin'your prej'dice I'se 'chieved my bes' vict'ry. ' An' he gib herback all de jewels an' watches, an' drew de doah to, an' lef us toourselves. Den we hear 'im go to a wes' room back ob de house widanoder soger, an' soon he come back alone, an' den de house allstill 'cept de eben tread ob de man outside. Missy Roberta claspher han's an' look wild. Den she whisper to Missy S'wanee, an' deyseem in great trouble. Den she go an' open de doah an' say to desoger dat she want ter go ter her room. 'You cannot, lady, ' saidde soger. 'You heared my orders. '--'I'll only stay a minute, ' shesay. 'You cannot pass dat doah, ' said de soger. 'But I mus' an'will, ' cried Missy Roberta, an' she make a rush ter get out. Desoger held her still. 'Unhan' me!' she almost screamed. He turnher 'roun' an' push her back in de room, an' den says: 'Lady, doesyou tink a soger can disobey orders? Dere ain't no use ob yourtakin' on 'bout dat light. We'se watch it all night as well asyour fren's, an' de cap'n has lef' a soger guardin' it, to keep itburnin'. Ef I should let yer go, yer couldn't put it out, an' efit had been put out any time, we'd a' lighted it agin. So dere'snuffin' fer yer to do but 'bey orders an' shut de doah. Den no onewill say a word to yer, as de cap'n said. ' Den he pulled de doahto hisself. "Missy Roberta 'gan to wring her han's an' walk up an' down likea caged tiger, an' Missy S'wanee larf and cry togedder as shesay, 'Cap'n Lane too bright fer us. '--'No, ' cries Missy Roberta, 'somebody's 'trayed me, an' I could strike a knife inter dereheart fer doin' it. O S'wanee, S'wanee, our fren's is walkin' rightinter a trap. ' Den she run to de winder an' open it ter see ef shecouldn't git down, an' dere in de garden was a soger, a-walkin'up an' down a-watchin'. 'We jes' can't do nuffin', ' she said, an'she 'gan to sob an' go 'sterical-like. Missy S'wanee tole de missus, an' she wrung her han's an' cry, too; an' Missy S'wanee, she wasa-larfin' an' a-cryin', an' a-prayin' all ter once. Suddenly derewas a shot off toward de creek-road, an' den we was bery still. Now. Zeb, you know de res'!" CHAPTER XXIX. MARIAN CONTRASTS LANE AND MERWYN. "Oh, come, this won't do at all, " said Mr. Vosburgh, as Zeb wasabout to continue the story. "It's nearly midnight now. Marian, dear, your cheeks and eyes look as if you had a fever. Let us waitand hear the rest of the story in the morning, or you'll be ill, your mother will have a headache, and I shall be unfit for my workto-morrow. " "Papa, papa, in pity don't stop them till we know all. If CaptainLane could watch all night and fight in the morning, can't we listenfor an hour longer?" "Oh, yes, " cried Mrs. Vosburgh, "let them finish. It's like a story, and I never could sleep well till I knew how a story was going toturn out. " "Wait a moment and I'll bring everybody something nice from thesideboard, and you, also, papa, a cigar from the library, " criedthe young girl. Her father smiled his acquiescence, and in a few moments they wereall ready to listen to the completion of a tragedy not without itsdash of comedy. "Arter Cap'n Lane posted his guards in de house an' sent derobber off, " Zeb resumed, "he jump on a hoss an' gallop toward decreek-road. De light in de winder kep' a-burnin'! I foun' arterwardsdat he an' his ossifers had been down on de creek-road and studiedit all out. At one place--whar it was narrer' wid tick woods onbofe sides--dey had builded a high rail-fence. Den below dat hehad put sogers in de woods each side widout dere hosses, an' farderdown still he had hid a lot of men dat was mounted. Sho' 'nuff, widde fust light of de mawnin', de rebs come ridin' toward de lightin de winder. I'd run out to de hill, not far away, ter see whatwould happen, an' it was so dark yet dat eb'ryting was mixed up widshadders. When de rebs was a-comin' by de Linkum men in de woods ashot was fired. Den I s'pose de rebs tought it would gib de 'larm, fer dey began ter run dere hosses for'ard. An' den de Linkum menlet dem hab it on bofe sides ob de road, but dey kep' on till deycome to de fence 'cross de road, an' den dey git a volley in front. Dis skeered 'em, for dey knowed dat de Linkum men was ready, an'dey tried to git back. Den I heared a great tramplin' an' yellin', an' dere was Cap'n Lane a-leadin' his men an' hosses right in ahinddem. Dere was orful fightin' fer a while, an' de men widout derehosses leap outen de woods and shot like mad. It was flash! bang!on eb'ry side. At las' de Linkum men won de day, an' some ob derebs burst troo de woods an' run, wid Cap'n Lane's men arter dem, an' dey kep' a-chasin' till a bugle call dem back. Den I run tode house, fer dey was bringin' in de pris'ners. Who should I see'mong dese but de bery ossifer dat was wid Missy Roberta de nightafore, de one dat wanted de light in de winder, an' he look berymad, I can tell you. "It was now gettin' broad day, an' de light at las' was outen dewinder. Dere was nuffin' mo' fer it to do. De Linkum soger dat hadbeen in de house was now helpin' guard de pris'ners, an' Missy Robertaan' Missy S'wanee run up to de ossifer dat had been so fooled an'say: 'We'se couldn't help it. Somebody 'trayed us. We was kep'under guard, an' dere was a Yankee soger a-keepin' de light burnin'arter we knew Cap'n Lane was aroun' an' ready. ' Missy Roberta looksharp at me, but I 'peared innercent as a sheep. Missy S'wanee say:'No matter, Major Denham, you did all dat a brave man could do, an' dar's my colors. You hab won dem. ' An' den he cheer up 'mazin'ly. "Den I hear somebody say Cap'n Lane woun'ed, an' I slip out towardde creek-road, an' dar I see dem a-carryin Cap'n Lane, an' de surgeonwalkin' 'longside ob him. My heart jes' stood still wid fear. Hiseyes was shut, an' he look bery pale-like. Dey was a-carryin' himup de steps ob de verandy when Missy S'wanee came runnin' ter seewhat was de matter. Den Cap'n Lane open his eyes an' he say: 'Notin here. Put me wid de oder woun'ed men; 'but Missy S'wanee say, 'No; he protec' us an' act like a gemlin, an' he shall learn datde ladies ob de Souf will not be surpassed. ' De missus say de same, but Missy Roberta frown an' say nuffin'. She too much put out yet'bout dat light in de winder an' de 'feat it brought her fren's. De cap'n was too weak an' gone-like ter say anyting mo', an' deycarry him up ter de bes' company room. I goes up wid dem ter waiton de surgeon, an' he 'zamin' de woun' an' gib de cap'n brandy, an'at las' say dat de cap'n get well ef he keep quiet a few weeks, --dathe weak now from de shock an' loss ob blood. "In de arternoon hundreds more Linkum men come, an' Cap'n Lane'scunnel come wid dem, an' he praise de cap'n an' cheer him up, an'de cap'n was bery peart an' say he feel better. Mos' ob de ossiferstake supper at de house. De missus an' Missy Roberta were perlitebut bery cold-like, but Missy S'wanee, while she show dat she wasa reb down to de bottom ob her good, kine heart, could smile an'say sunshiny tings all de same. Dis night pass bery quiet, an'in de mawnin' de Linkum cunnel say he hab orders ter 'tire towardde Union lines. He feel bery bad 'bout leabin' Cap'n Lane, but desurgeon say he mus' not be moved. He say, too, dat he stay wid decap'n an' de oder badly woun'ed men. De cap'n tell his cunnel 'boutme an' my moder an' what he promise us, an' de cunnel say he takeus wid him an' send us to Washin'on. De missus an' de young ladiestake on drefful 'bout our gwine, but I say, 'I mus' hab my liberty, 'an' moder say she can't part wid her own flesh an' blood--" "Yes, yes, but what did 'Cap'n' Lane say?" interrupted Marian. "He tole me ter say ter you, missy, dat he was gwine ter git well, an' dat you mus'n't worry 'kase you didn't hear from him, an' dathe know you'd be kine to us, 'kase I'd help him win de vict'ry. Desurgeon wrote some letters, too, an' gib dem to de Linkum cunnel. P'raps you git one ob dem. Dey put us in an army wagon, an' bimebywe reach a railroad, an' dey gib us a pass ter Washin'on, an' wecome right on heah wid Cap'n Lane's money. I doesn't know what deydid with de robber--" "Oh, oh, " cried Marian, "it may be weeks before I hear from myfriend again, if I 'ever do. " "Marian, dear, " said her father, "do not look on the dark side;it might have been a hundred-fold worse. 'Cap'n' Lane was incircumstances of great comfort, with his own surgeon in care ofhis wound. Think how many poor fellows were left on the field ofChancellorsville to Heaven only knows what fate. In such desperatefighting as has been described we have much reason to be thankfulthat he was not killed outright. He has justly earned great creditwith his superiors, and I predict that he will get well and bepromoted. I think you will receive a letter in a day or two fromthe surgeon. I prescribe that you and mamma sleep in the morningtill you are rested. I won't grumble at taking my coffee alone. "Then, to the colored woman and her son: "Don't you worry. We'llsee that you are taken care of. " Late as it was, hours still elapsed before Marian slept. Her herohad become more heroic than ever. She dwelt on his achievementswith enthusiasm, and thought of his sufferings with a tendernessnever before evoked, while the possibility that "Missy S'wanee"was his nurse produced twinges approaching jealousy. As was expected, the morning post brought a letter from the surgeonconfirming the account that had been given by the refugees, andfull of hope-inspiring words. Then for weeks there were no furthertidings from Lane. Meanwhile, events were culminating with terrible rapidity, andtheir threatening significance electrified the North. The Southernpeople and their sympathizers everywhere were jubilant overthe victory of Chancellorsville, and both demanded and expectedthat this success should be followed by decisive victories. Lee'sarmy, General Longstreet said, was "in a condition of strength andmorale to undertake anything, " and Southern public sentiment andthe needs of the Richmond government all pointed towards a secondand more extended invasion of the North. The army was indeed strong, disciplined, a powerful instrument in the hands of a leader likeGeneral Lee. Nevertheless, it had reached about the highest degreeof its strength. The merciless conscription in the South had sweptinto its ranks nearly all the able-bodied men, and food and foragewere becoming so scarce in war-wasted Virginia and other regionswhich would naturally sustain this force, that a bold, decisivepolicy had become a necessity. It was believed that on Northernsoil the army could be fed, and terms of peace dictated. The chief motive for this step was the hope of a counter-revolutionin the North where the peace faction had grown bold and aggressiveto a degree that only stopped short of open resistance. The draftor general conscription which the President had ordered to take placein July awakened intense hostility to the war and the governmenton the part of a large and rapidly increasing class of citizens. This class had its influential and outspoken leaders, who wereevidently in league with a secret and disloyal organization knownas the "Knights of the Golden Circle, " the present object of whichwas the destruction of the Union and the perpetuation of slavery. In the city of New York the spirit of rebellion was as rampant inthe breasts of tens of thousands as in Richmond, and Mr. Vosburgh knewit. His great sagacity and the means of information at his commandenabled him to penetrate much of the intrigue that was taking place, and to guess at far more. He became haggard and almost sleeplessfrom his labors and anxieties, for he knew that the loyal peopleof the North were living over a volcano. Marian shared in this solicitude, and was his chief confidante. Hewished her, with her mother, to go to some safe and secluded placein the country, and offered to lease again the cottage which theyhad occupied the previous summer, but Marian said that she wouldnot leave him, and that he must not ask her to do so. Mrs. Vosburghwas eventually induced to visit relatives in New England, and thenfather and daughter watched events with a hundred-fold more anxietythan that of the majority, because they were better informed andmore deeply involved in the issues at stake than many others. Butbeyond all thought of worldly interests, their intense loyal feelingburned with a pure, unwavering flame. In addition to all that occupied her mind in connection withher father's cares and duties, she had other grounds for anxiety. Strahan wrote that his regiment was marching northward, and thathe soon expected to take part in the chief battle of the war. Everyday she hoped for some news from Lane, but none came. His wishesin regard to Mammy Borden and her son had been well carried out. Mr. Vosburgh had been led to suspect that the man in charge of hisoffices was becoming rather too curious in regard to his affairs, and too well informed about them. Therefore Zeb was installedin his place; and when Mrs. Vosburgh departed on her visit Mariandismissed the girl who had succeeded Sally Maguire, and employedthe colored woman in her stead. She felt that this action wouldbe pleasing to Lane, and that it was the very least that she coulddo. Moreover, Mammy Borden was what she termed a "character, " one towhom she could speak with something of the freedom natural to theladies of the Southern household. The former slave could describea phase of life and society that was full of novelty and romanceto Marian, and "de young ladies, " especially "Missy S'wanee, " weretypes of the Southern girl of whom she never wearied of hearing. From the quaint talk of her new servant she learned to understandthe domestic life of those whom she had regarded as enemies, and wascompelled to admit that in womanly spirit and dauntless patriotismthey were her equals, and had proved it by facing dangers andhardships from which she had been shielded. More than all, the oldcolored woman was a protegee of Captain Lane and was never wearyof chanting his praises. Marian was sincerely perplexed by the attitude of her mind towardsthis young officer. He kindled her enthusiasm and evoked admirationwithout stint. He represented to her the highest type of manhoodin that period of doubt, danger, and strong excitement. Brave tothe last degree, his courage was devoid of recklessness. The simple, untutored description of his action given by the refugees had onlymade it all the more clear that his mind was as keen and bright ashis sword, while in chivalric impulses he had never been surpassed. Unconsciously Mammy Borden and her son had revealed traits in himwhich awakened Marian's deepest respect, suggesting thoughts ofwhich she would not have spoken to any one. She had been shown hiscourse towards beautiful women who were in his power, and who atthe same time were plotting his destruction and that of his command. While he foiled their hostile purpose, no knight of olden timescould have shown them more thoughtful consideration and respect. She felt that her heart ought to go out towards this ideal loverin utter abandon. Why did it not? Why were her pride, exultation, and deep solicitude too near akin to the emotions she would havefelt had he been her brother? Was this the only way in which shecould love? Would the sacred, mysterious, and irresistible impulsesof the heart, of which she had read, follow naturally in due time? She was inclined to believe that this was true, yet, to her surprise, the thought arose unbidden: "If Willard Merwyn were showing likequalities and making the same record--What absurdity is this!"she exclaimed aloud. "Why does this Mr. Merwyn so haunt me, whenI could not give him even respect and friendship, although he sentan army into the field, yet was not brave enough to go himself?Where is he? What is he doing in these supreme hours of his country'shistory? Everything is at stake at the front, yes, and even hereat the North, for I can see that papa dreads unspeakably what eachday may bring forth, yet neither this terrible emergency nor thehope of winning my love can brace his timid soul to manly action. There is more manhood in one drop of the blood shed by Captain Lanethan in Merwyn's whole shrinking body. " CHAPTER XXX. THE NORTH INVADED. Merwyn could scarcely have believed that he had sunk so lowin Marian's estimation as her words at the close of the previouschapter indicated, yet he guessed clearly the drift of her opinionin regard to him, and he saw no way of righting himself. In thesolitude of his country home he considered and dismissed severalplans of action. He thought of offering his services to the SanitaryCommission, but his pride prevented, for he knew that she and otherswould ask why a man of his youth and strength sought a service inwhich sisters of charity could be his equals in efficiency. He alsosaw that joining a regiment of the city militia was but a half-waymeasure that might soon lead to the violation of his oath, sincethese regiments could be ordered to the South in case of an emergency. The prospect before him was that of a thwarted, blighted life. Hemight live till he was gray, but in every waking moment he wouldremember that he had lost his chance for manly action, when suchaction would have brought him self-respect, very possibly happiness, and certainly the consciousness that he had served a cause whichnow enlisted all his sympathies. At last he wrote to his mother an impassioned appeal to be releasedfrom his oath, assuring her that he would never have any part inthe Southern empire that was the dream of her life. He cherishedthe hope that she, seeing how unalterable were his feelings andpurposes, would yield to him the right to follow his own convictions, and with this kindling hope his mind grew calmer. Then, as reason began to assert itself, he saw that he had been absentfrom the city too long already. His pride counselled: "The worldhas no concern with your affairs, disappointments, or sufferings. Be your father's son, and maintain your position with dignity. In afew short weeks you may be free. If not, your secret is your own, and no living soul can gossip about your family affairs, or saythat you betrayed your word or your family interests. Meanwhile, in following the example of thousands of other rich and patrioticcitizens, you can contribute more to the success of the Union causethan if you were in the field. " He knew that this course might not secure him the favor of one forwhom he would face every danger in the world, but it might tend todisarm criticism and give him the best chances for the future. He at once carried out his new purposes, and early in June returnedto his city home. He now resolved no longer to shrink and hide, butto keep his own counsel, and face the situation like one who hada right to choose his own career. Mr. Bodoin, his legal adviser, received the impression that he had been quietly looking afterhis country property, and the lawyer rubbed his bloodless hands insatisfaction over a youthful client so entirely to his mind. Having learned more fully what his present resources were, Merwynnext called on Mr. Vosburgh at his office. That gentleman greetedthe young man courteously, disguising his surprise and curiosity. "I have just returned from my country place, " Merwyn began, "andshall not have to go there very soon again, Can I call upon you asusual?" "Certainly, " replied Mr. Vosburgh; but there was no warmth in histone. "I have also a favor to ask, " resumed Merwyn, with a slightdeepening of color in his bronzed face. "I have not been able tofollow events very closely, but so far as I can judge there is aprospect of severe battles and of sudden emergencies. If there isneed of money, such means as I have are at your disposal. " Even Mr. Vosburgh, at the moment, felt much of Marian's repulsionas he looked at the tall youth, with his superb physique, who spokeof severe battles and offered "money. " "Truly, " he thought, "shemust be right. This man will part with thousands rather than riskone drop of blood. " But he was too good a patriot to reveal his impression, and said, earnestly: "You are right, Mr. Merwyn. There will be heavy fightingsoon, and all the aid that you can give the Sanitary and ChristianCommissions will tend to save life and relieve suffering. " Under the circumstances he felt that he could not use any of theyoung man's money, even as a temporary loan, although at times theemployment of a few extra hundreds might aid him greatly in hiswork. Merwyn went away chilled and saddened anew, yet feeling that hisreception had been all that he had a right to expect. There had been no lack of politeness on Mr. Vosburgh's part, buthis manner had not been that of a friend. "He has recognized that I am under some secret restraint, " Merwynthought, "and distrusts me at last. He probably thinks, with hisdaughter, that I am afraid to go. Oh that I had a chance to provethat I am, at least, not a coward! In some way I shall prove itbefore many weeks pass. " At dinner, that evening, Mr. Vosburgh smiled significantly atMarian, and said, "Who do you think called on me to-day?" "Mr. Merwyn, " she said, promptly. "You are right. He came to offer--" "Money, " contemptuously completing her father's sentence. "You evidently think you understand him. Perhaps you do; and I admitthat I felt much as you do, to-day, when he offered his purse tothe cause. I fear, however, that we are growing a little morbid onthis subject, and inclined to judgments too severe. You and I havebecome like so many in the South. This conflict and its resultsare everything to us, and we forget that we are surrounded byhundreds of thousands who are loyal, but are not ready for verygreat sacrifices. " "We are also surrounded by millions that are, and I cast in my lotwith these. If this is to be morbid, we have plenty of company. " "What I mean is, that we may be too hard upon those who do notfeel, and perhaps are not capable of feeling, as we do. " "O papa! you know the reason why Mr. Merwyn takes the course hedoes. " "I know what you think to be the reason, and you may be right. Yourexplanation struck me with more force than ever to-day; and yet, looking into the young fellow's face, it seems impossible. Heimpresses me strangely, and awakens much curiosity as to his futurecourse. He asked if he could call as usual, and I, with ordinarypoliteness, said, 'Certainly. ' Indeed, there was a dignity aboutthe fellow that almost compelled the word. I don't know that wehave any occasion to regret it. He has done nothing to forfeit merecourtesy on our part. " "Oh, no, " said Marian, discontentedly; "but he irritates me. I wishI had never known him, and that I might never meet him again. I ammore and more convinced that my theory about him is correct, andwhile I pity him sincerely, the ever-present consciousness of hisfatal defect is more distressing--perhaps I should say, annoying--than ifhe presented some strong physical deformity. He is such a superband mocking semblance of a man that I cannot even think of himwithout exasperation. " "Well, my dear, perhaps this is one of the minor sacrifices thatwe must make for the cause. Until Merwyn can explain for himself, he has no right to expect from us more than politeness. While Iwould not take from him a loan for my individual work, I can inducehim to give much material help. In aiding Strahan, and in otherways, he has done a great deal, and he is willing to do more. Theprospects are that everything will be needed, and I do not feellike alienating one dollar or one bit of influence. According toyour theory his course is due to infirmity rather than to fault, and so he should be tolerated, since he is doing the best he can. Politeness to him will not compromise either our principles orourselves. " "Well, papa, I will do my best; but if he had a particle of myintuition he would know how I feel. Indeed, I believe he does knowin some degree, and it seems to me that, if I were a man, I couldn'tface a woman while she entertained such an opinion. " "Perhaps the knowledge that you are wrong enables him to face you. " "If that were true he wouldn't be twenty-four hours in proving it. " "Well, " said her father, with a grim laugh, and in a low voice, "he may soon have a chance to show his mettle without going tothe front. Marian, I wish you would join your mother. The city isfairly trembling with suppressed disloyalty. If Lee marches northwardI shall fear an explosion at any time. " "Leave the city!" said the young girl, hotly. "That would provethat I possess the same traits that repel me so strongly in Mr. Merwyn. No, I shall not leave your side this summer, unless youcompel me to almost by force. Have we not recently heard of twoSouthern girls who cheered on their friends in battle with bulletsflying around them? After witnessing that scene, I should makea pitiable figure in Captain Lane's eyes should I seek safety inflight at the mere thought of danger. I should die with shame. " "It is well Captain Lane does not hear you, or the surgeon wouldhave fever to contend with, as well as wounds. " "O dear!" cried the girl. "I wish we could hear from him. " Mr. Vosburgh had nearly reached the conclusion that if the captainsurvived the vicissitudes of the war he would not plead a secondtime in vain. A few evenings later Merwyn called. Mr. Vosburgh was out, and otherswere in the drawing-room. Marian did not have much to say to him, but treated him with her old, distant politeness. He felt her manner, and saw the gulf that lay between them, but no one unacquainted withthe past would have recognized any lack of courtesy on her part. Among the exciting topics broached was the possibilityof a counter-revolution at the North. Merwyn noticed that Marianwas reticent in regard to her father and his opinions, but he wasstartled to hear her say that she would not be surprised if violentoutbreaks of disloyalty took place any hour, and he recognized hercourage in remaining in the city. One of the callers, an officerin the Seventh Regiment, also spoke of the possibility of all themilitia being ordered away to aid in repelling invasion. Merwyn listened attentively, but did not take a very active part inthe conversation, and went away with the words "counter-revolution"and "invasion" ringing in his ears. He became a close student of the progress of events, and, with hissensitiveness in regard to the Vosburghs, adopted a measure thattaxed his courage. A day or two later he called on Mr. Vosburgh athis office, and asked him out to lunch, saying that he was desirousof obtaining some information. Mr. Vosburgh complied readily, for he wished to give the youngman every chance to right himself, and he could not disguise thefact that he felt a peculiar interest in the problem presented byhis daughter's unfortunate suitor. Merwyn was rather maladroit inaccounting for his questions in regard to the results of a counterrevolution, and gave the impression that he was solicitous abouthis property. Convinced that his entertainer was loyal from conviction andfeeling, as well as from the nature of his pecuniary interests, Mr. Vosburgh spoke quite freely of the dangerous elements rapidlydeveloping at the North, and warned his host that, in his opinion, the critical period of the struggle was approaching. Merwyn's grave, troubled face and extreme reticence in respect to his own coursemade an unfavorable impression, yet he was acting characteristically. Trammelled as he was, he could not speak according to his naturalimpulses. He felt that brave words, not enforced by correspondingaction, would be in wretched taste, and his hope was that by deedshe could soon redeem himself. If there was a counter-revolution hecould soon find a post of danger without wearing the uniform of asoldier or stepping on Southern soil, but he was not one to boastof what he would do should such and such events take place. Moreover, before the month elapsed he had reason to believe that he wouldreceive a letter from his mother giving him freedom. Therefore, Mr. Vosburgh was left with all his old doubts and perplexitiesunrelieved, and Marian's sinister theory was confirmed rather thanweakened. Merwyn, however, was no longer despondent. The swift march of eventsmight give him the opportunities he craved. He was too young not toseize on the faintest hope offered by the future, and the presentperiod was one of reaction from the deep dejection that, for atime, had almost paralyzed him in the country. Even as a boy he had been a sportsman, and a good shot with gun, rifle, and pistol, but now he began to perfect himself in the useof the last-named weapon. He arranged the basement of his house insuch a way that he could practise with his revolvers, and he soonbecame very proficient in the accuracy and quickness of his aim. According to the press despatches of the day, there was muchuncertainty in regard to General Lee's movements and plans. Mr. Vosburgh's means of information led him to believe that the rebelarmy was coming North, and many others shared the fear; but aslate as June 15, so skilfully had the Confederate leader maskedhis purposes, that, according to the latest published news, theindications were that he intended to cross the Rappahannock nearCulpepper and inaugurate a campaign similar to the one that hadproved so disastrous to the Union cause the preceding summer. On the morning of the 16th, however, the head-lines of the leadingjournals startled the people through the North. The rebel advancehad occupied Chambersburg, Pa. The invasion was an accomplishedfact. The same journals contained a call from the President for100, 000 militia, of which the State of New York was to furnish20, 000. The excitement in Pennsylvania was intense, for not onlyher capital, but her principal towns and cities were endangered. The thick-flying rumors of the past few days received terribleconfirmation, and, while Lee's plans were still shrouded in mystery, enough was known to awaken apprehension, while the very uncertaintyproved the prolific source of the most exaggerated and direfulstories. There was immense activity at the various armories, andmany regiments of the city militia expected orders to depart atany hour. The metropolis was rocking with excitement, and wherevermen congregated there were eager faces and excited tones. Behind his impassive manner, when he appeared in the street, noone disguised deeper feeling, more eager hope, more sickening fear, than Willard Merwyn. When would his mother's letter come? If thiscrisis should pass and he take no part in it he feared that hehimself would be lost. Since his last call upon Marian he felt that he could not see heragain until he could take some decided course; but if there wereblows to be struck by citizens at the North, or if his mother'sletter acceded to his wish, however grudgingly, he could act atonce, and on each new day he awoke with the hope that he might beunchained before its close. The 17th of June was a memorable day. The morning press broughtconfirmation of Lee's northward advance. The men of the QuakerCity were turning out en masse, either to carry the musket or forlabor on fortifications, and it was announced that twelve regimentsof the New-York militia were under marching orders. The invasionwas the one topic of conversation. There was an immense revivalof patriotism, and recruiting at the armories went on rapidly. Atthis outburst of popular feeling disloyalty shrunk out of sight fora time, and apparently the invaders who had come north as alliesof the peace party created an uprising, as they had expected, butit was hostile to them. The people were reminded of the threats of the Southern leaders. The speech of Jeff Davis in the winter of 1860-61 was quoted: "Ifwar should result from secession, it will not be our fields thatwill witness its ravages, but those of the North. " The fact that this prediction was already fulfilled stung even thehalf-hearted into action, and nerved the loyalty of others, andwhen it became known that the gallant Seventh Regiment would marchdown Broadway en route for Pennsylvania at noon, multitudes linedthe thoroughfare and greeted their defenders with acclamations. Merwyn knew that Marian would witness the departure, and he watchedin the distance till he saw her emerge from her home and go to abuilding on Broadway in which her father had secured her a place. She was attended by an officer clad in the uniform of a serviceso dear to her, but which HE had sworn never to wear. He hastilysecured a point of observation in a building opposite, for whilethe vision of the young girl awakened almost desperate revolt athis lot, he could not resist a lover's impulse to see her. Pale, silent, absorbed, he saw her wave her handkerchief and smile ather friends as they passed; he saw a white-haired old lady reachout her hands in yearning love, an eloquent pantomime that indicatedthat her sons were marching under her eyes, and then she sank backinto Marian's arms. "Oh, " groaned Merwyn, "if that were my mother I could give her alove that would be almost worship. " CHAPTER XXXI. "I'VE LOST MY CHANCE. " During the remainder of the 17th of June and for the next few days, the militia regiments of New York and Brooklyn were departing forthe seat of war. The city was filled with conflicting rumors. Onthe 19th it was said that the invaders were returning to Virginia. The questions "Where is Lee, and what are his purposes? and whatis the army of the Potomac about?" were upon all lips. On the 20th came the startling tidings of organized resistance tothe draft in Ohio, and of troops fired upon by the mob. Mr. Vosburghfrowned heavily as he read the account at the breakfast-table andsaid: "The test of my fears will come when the conscription beginsin this city, and it may come much sooner. I wish you to join yourmother before that day, Marian!" "No, " she said, quietly, --"not unless you compel, me to. " "I may be obliged to use my authority, " said her father, after somethought. "My mind is oppressed by a phase of danger not properlyrealized. The city is being stripped of its loyal regiments, andevery element of mischief is left behind. " "Papa, I entreat you not to send me away while you remain. I assureyou that such a course would involve far greater danger to me thanstaying with you, even though your fears should be realized. Ifthe worst should happen, I might escape all harm. If you do whatyou threaten, I could not escape a wounded spirit. " "Well, my dear, " said her father, gently, "I appreciate your courageand devotion, and I should indeed miss you. We'll await furtherdevelopments. " Day after day passed, bringing no definite information. There werereports of severe cavalry fighting in Virginia, but the positionof the main body of Lee's army was still practically unknown to thepeople at large. On the 22d, a leading journal said, "The publicmust, with patience, await events in Virginia, and remain inignorance until some decisive point is reached;" and on the 24th, the head-lines of the press read, in effect, "Not much of importancefrom Pennsylvania yesterday. " The intense excitement caused bythe invasion was subsiding. People could not exist at the firstfever-heat. It was generally believed that Hooker's army had broughtLee to a halt, and that the two commanders were manoeuvring forpositions. The fact was that the Confederates had an abundance ofcongenial occupation in sending southward to their impoverishedcommissary department the immense booty they were gathering amongthe rich farms and towns of Pennsylvania. Hooker was seeking, bythe aid of his cavalry force and scouts, to penetrate his opponent'splans, meanwhile hesitating whether to fall on the rebel communicationsin their rear, or to follow northward. Lee and his great army, flushed with recent victories, were not allthat Hooker had to contend with, but there was a man in Washington, whose incapacity and ill-will threatened even more fatal difficulties. Gen. Halleck, Commander-in-Chief, hung on the Union leader likethe "Old Man of the Sea. " He misled the noble President, who, as a civilian. Was ignorant of military affairs, paralyzed tensof thousands of troops by keeping them where they could be of nopractical use, and by giving them orders of which General Hookerwas not informed. The Comte de Paris writes, "Lee's projects couldnot have been more efficiently subserved, " and the disastrous defeatof General Milroy confirms these words. It was a repetition of theold story of General Miles of the preceding year, with the differencethat Milroy was a gallant, loyal man, who did all that a skilfulofficer could accomplish to avert the results of his superior'sblundering and negligence. Hooker was goaded into resigning, and of the army of the Potomac thegifted French author again writes, "Everything seemed to conspireagainst it, even the government, whose last hope it was;" addinglater: "Out of the 97, 000 men thus divided (at Washington, Frederick, Fortress Monroe, and neighboring points) there were 40, 000, perfectlyuseless where they were stationed, that might have been added tothe army of the Potomac before the 1st of July. Thus reinforced, theUnion general could have been certain of conquering his adversary, and even of inflicting upon him an irreparable disaster. " The fortunes of the North were indeed trembling in the balance. We had to cope with the ablest general of the South and his greatarmy, with the peace (?) faction that threatened bloody argumentsin the loyal States, and with General Halleck. The people were asking: "Where is the army of the Potomac? Whatcan it be doing, that the invasion goes on so long unchecked?" AtGettysburg this patient, longsuffering army gave its answer. Meanwhile the North was brought face to face with the direstpossibilities, and its fears, which history has proved to be just, were aroused to the last degree. The lull in the excitement whichhad followed the first startling announcement of invasion wasbroken by the wildest rumors and the sternest facts. The publicpulse again rose to fever-heat. Farmers were flying into Harrisburg, before the advancing enemy; merchants were packing their goodsfor shipment to the North; and the panic was so general that theproposition was made to stop forcibly the flight of able-bodiedmen from the Pennsylvanian capital. As Mr. Vosburgh read these despatches in the morning paper, Mariansmiled satirically, and said: "You think that Mr. Merwyn is undersome powerful restraint. I doubt whether he would be restrainedfrom going north, should danger threaten this city. " And many believed, with good reason, that New York City wasthreatened. Major-General Doubleday, in his clear, vigorous accountof this campaign writes: "Union spies who claimed to have countedthe rebel forces as they passed through Hagerstown made theirnumber to be 91, 000 infantry and 280 guns. This statement, thoughexaggerated, gained great credence, and added to the excitement ofthe loyal people throughout the Northern States, while the disloyalelement was proportionately active and jubilant. " Again he writes:"There was wild commotion throughout the North, and people began tofeel that the boast of the Georgia Senator, Toombs, that he wouldcall the roll of his slaves at the foot of Bunker Hill Monument, might soon be realized. The enemy seemed very near and the army ofthe Potomac far away. " Again: "The Southern people were bent uponnothing else than the entire subjugation of the North and theoccupation of our principal cities. " These statements of sober history are but the true echoes of theloud alarms of the hour. On the morning of the 20th of June, suchwords as these were printed as the leading editorial of the New YorkTribune: "The rebels are coming North. All doubt seems at lengthdispelled. Men of the North, Pennsylvanians, Jerseymen, New-Yorkers, New-Englanders, the foe is at your doors! Are you true men ortraitors? brave men or cowards? If you are patriots, resolved anddeserving to be free, prove it by universal rallying, arming, andmarching to meet the foe. Prove it NOW!" Marian, with flashing eyes and glowing cheeks, read to her fatherthis brief trumpet call, and then exclaimed: "Yes, the issue isdrawn so sharply now that no loyal man can hesitate, and to-dayMr. Merwyn cannot help answering the question, 'Are you a braveman or a coward?' O papa, to think that a MAN should be deaf tosuch an appeal and shrink in such an emergency!" At that very hour Merwyn sat alone in his elegant home, his faceburied in his hands, the very picture of dejection. Before him onthe table lay the journal from which he had read the same wordswhich Marian had applied to him in bitter scorn. An open letterwas also upon the table, and its contents had slain his hope. Mrs. Merwyn had answered his appeal characteristically. "You evidentlyneed my presence, " she wrote, "yet I will never believe that youcan violate your oath, unless your reason is dethroned. When youforget that you have sworn by your father's memory and your mother'shonor, you must be wrecked indeed. I wonder at your blindness toyour own interests, and can see in it the influence which, in allthe past, has made some weak men reckless and forgetful of everythingexcept an unworthy passion. The armies of your Northern friendshave been defeated again and again. I have means of communicationwith my Southern friends, and before the summer is over our gallantleaders will dictate peace in the city where you dwell. What thenwould become of the property which you so value, were it not for myinfluence? My hope still is, that your infatuation will pass awaywith your youth, and that your mind will become clear, so thatyou can appreciate the future that might be yours. If I can onlyprotect you against yourself and designing people, all may yet bewell; and when our glorious South takes the foremost place amongthe nations of the earth, my influence will be such that I can stillobtain for you rank and title, unless you now compromise yourselfby some unutterable folly. The crisis is approaching fast, and theNorth will soon learn that, so far from subduing the South, it willbe subjugated and will gladly accept such terms as we may deem itbest to give. I have fulfilled my mission here. The leading classesare with us in sympathy, and it will require but one or two morevictories like that of Chancellorsville to make England our openally. Then people of our birth and wealth will be the equals of theEnglish aristocracy, and your career can be as lofty as you chooseto make it. Then, with a gratitude beyond words, you will thank mefor my firmness, for you can aspire to the highest positions in anempire such as the world has not seen before. " "No, " said Merwyn, sternly, "if there is a free State left at theNorth, I will work there with my own hands for a livelihood, ratherthan have any part or lot in this Southern empire. Yet what can Iever appear to be but a shrinking coward? An owner of slaves allher life, my mother has made a slave of me. She has fettered myvery soul. Oh! if there are to be outbreaks at the North, let themcome soon, or I shall die under the weight of my chains. " The dark tide of invasion rose higher and higher. At last the tidingscame that Lee's whole army was in Pennsylvania, that Harrisburgwould be attacked before night, and that the enemy were threateningColumbia on the northern bank of the Susquehanna, and would havecrossed the immense bridge which there spans the river, had it notbeen burned. On the 27th, the Tribune contained the following editorial words:"Now is the hour. Pennsylvania is at length arousing, we trust nottoo late. We plead with the entire North to rush to the rescue; thewhole North is menaced through this invasion. It we do not stop itat the Susquehanna, it will soon strike us on the Delaware, thenon the Hudson. " "My chance is coming, " Merwyn muttered, grimly, as he read thesewords. "If the answering counter-revolution does not begin duringthe next few days, I shall take my rifle and fight as a citizen aslong as there is a rebel left on Northern soil. " The eyes of others were turned towards Pennsylvania; he scannedthe city in which he dwelt. He had abandoned all morbid brooding, and sought by every means in his power to inform himself in regardto the seething, disloyal elements that were now manifestingthemselves. From what Mr. Vosburgh had told him, and from what hehad discovered himself, he felt that any hour might witness bloodyco-operation at his very door with the army of invasion. "Should this take place, " he exclaimed, as he paced his room, "ohthat it might be my privilege, before I died, to perform some deedthat would convince Marian Vosburgh that I am not what she thinksme to be!" Each new day brought its portentous news. On the 30th of June, therewere accounts of intense excitement at Washington and Baltimore, for the enemy had appeared almost at the suburbs of these cities. In Baltimore, women rushed into the streets and besought protection. New York throbbed and rocked with kindred excitement. On July 3d, the loyal Tribune again sounded the note of deep alarm:"These are times that try men's souls! The peril of our country'soverthrow is great and imminent. The triumph of the rebelsdistinctly and unmistakably involves the downfall of republicanand representative institutions. " By a strange anomaly multitudes of the poor, the oppressed in otherlands, whose hope for the future was bound up in the cause of theNorth, were arrayed against it. Their ignorance made them dupesand tools, and enemies of human rights and progress were prompt touse them. On the evening of this momentous 3d of July, a manifesto, in the form of a handbill, was extensively circulated throughoutthe city. Jeff Davis himself could not have written anything moredisloyal, more false, of the Union government and its aims, orbetter calculated to incite bloody revolution in the North. For the last few days the spirit of rebellion had been burning likea fuse toward a vast magazine of human passion and intense hatredof Northern measures and principles. If from Pennsylvania had comein electric flash the words, "Meade defeated, " the explosion wouldhave come almost instantly; but all now had learned that the armyof the Potomac had emerged from its obscurity, and had grappledwith the invading forces. Even the most reckless of the so-calledpeace faction could afford to wait a few hours longer. As soon asthe shattered columns of Meade's army were in full retreat, theNorthern wing of the rebellion could act with confidence. The Tribune, in commenting on the incendiary document distributedon the evening of the 3d, spoke as follows: "That the more determinedsympathizers, in this vicinity, with the Southern rebels have, formonths, conspired and plotted to bring about a revolution is ascertain as the Civil War. Had Meade been defeated, " etc. The dramatic culmination of this awful hour of uncertainty maybe found in the speeches, on July 4th, of ex-President FranklinPierce, at Concord, N. H. , and of Governor Seymour, in the Academyof Music, at New York. The former spoke of "the mailed hand ofmilitary usurpation in the North, striking down the liberties ofthe people and trampling its foot on a desecrated Constitution. "He lauded Vallandigham, who was sent South for disloyalty, as "thenoble martyr of free speech. " He declared the war to be fruitless, and exclaimed: "You will take care of yourselves. With or withoutarms, with or without leaders, we will at least, in the effort todefend our rights, as a free people, build up a great mausoleum ofhearts, to which men who yearn for liberty will, in after years, with bowed heads reverently resort as Christian pilgrims to theshrines of the Holy Land. " Such were the shrines with which this man would have filled NewEngland. There is a better chance now, that a new and loyal Virginiawill some day build a monument to John Brown. Governor Seymour's speech was similar in tenor, but more guarded. In words of bitter irony toward the struggling government, whosehands the peace faction were striving to paralyze, he began: "WhenI accepted the invitation to speak with others, at this meeting, we were promised the downfall of Vicksburg, the opening of theMississippi, the probable capture of the Confederate capital, andthe exhaustion of the rebellion. By common consent, all partieshad fixed upon this day when the results of the campaign should beknown. But, in the moment of expected victory, there came a midnightcry for help from Pennsylvania, to save its despoiled fields fromthe invading foe; and, almost within sight of this metropolis, theships of your merchants were burned to the water's edge. Partiesare exasperated and stand in almost defiant attitude toward eachother. " "At the very hour, " writes the historian Lossing, "when this ungeneroustaunt was uttered, Vicksburg and its dependences and vast spoils, with more than thirty thousand Confederate captives, were in thepossession of General Grant; and the discomfited army of Lee, who, when that sentence was written, was expected to lead his troopsvictoriously to the Delaware, and perhaps to the Hudson, was flyingfrom Meade's troops, to find shelter from utter destruction beyondthe Potomac. " Rarely has history reached a more dramatic climax, and seldom havethe great scenes of men's actions been more swiftly shifted. Merwyn attended this great mass-meeting, and was silent when thethousands applauded. In coming out he saw, while unobserved himself, Mr. Vosburgh, and was struck by the proud, contemptuous expressionof his face. The government officer had listened with a ciphertelegram in his pocket informing him of Lee's repulse. For the last twenty-four hours Merwyn had watched almost sleeplesslyfor the outburst to take place. That strong, confident face indicatedno fears that it would ever take place. A few hours later, he, and all, heard from the army of the Potomac. When at last it became known that the Confederate army was in fullretreat, and, as the North then believed, would be either capturedor broken into flying fragments before reaching Virginia, Merwynfaced what he believed to be his fate. "The country is saved, " he said. "There will be no revolution at theNorth. Thank God for the sake of others, but I've lost my chance. " CHAPTER XXXII. BLAUVELT. In June, especially during the latter part of the month, Strahanand Blauvelt's letters to Marian had been brief and infrequent. Theduties of the young officers were heavy, and their fatigues great. They could give her little information forecasting the future. Indeed, General Hooker himself could not have done this, for allwas in uncertainty. Lee must be found and fought, and all that anyone knew was that the two great armies would eventually meet inthe decisive battle of the war. The patient, heroic army of the Potomac, often defeated, but neverconquered, was between two dangers that can be scarcely overestimated, the vast, confident hosts of Lee in Pennsylvania, and Halleck inWashington. General Hooker was hampered, interfered with, deprivedof reinforcements that were kept in idleness elsewhere, and atlast relieved of command on the eve of battle, because he askedthat 11, 000 men, useless at Harper's Ferry, might be placed underhis orders. That this was a mere pretext for his removal, and anexpression of Halleck's ill-will, is proved by the fact that GeneralMeade, his successor, immediately ordered the evacuation of Harper'sFerry and was unrestrained and unrebuked. Meade, however, did notunite these 11, 000 men to his army, where they might have addedmaterially to his success, but left them far in his rear, a useless, half-way measure possibly adopted to avoid displeasing Halleck. It would seem that Providence itself assumed the guidance of thislongsuffering Union army, that had been so often led by incompetencein the field and paralyzed by interference at Washington. Even thephilosophical historian, the Comte de Paris, admits this truth inremarkable language. Neither Lee nor Meade knew where they should meet, and had underconsideration various plans of action, but, writes the Frenchhistorian, "The fortune of war cut short all these discussions bybringing the two combatants into a field which neither had chosen. "Again, after describing the region of Gettysburg, he concludes:"Such is the ground upon which unforeseen circumstances were aboutto bring the two armies in hostile contact. Neither Meade nor Leehad any personal knowledge of it. " Once more, after a vivid description of the first day's battle, inwhich Buford with his cavalry division, Doubleday with the FirstCorps, and Howard with the Eleventh, checked the rebel advance, butat last, after heroic fighting, were overwhelmed and driven backin a disorder which in some brigades resembled a rout, the Comtede Paris recognizes, in the choice of position on which the Uniontroops were rallied, something beyond the will and wisdom of man. "A resistless impulse seems to spur it (the rebel army) on to battle. It believes itself invincible. There is scorn of its adversary;nearly all the Confederate generals have undergone the contagion. Lee himself, the grave, impassive man, will some day acknowledge thathe has allowed himself to be influenced by these common illusions. It seems that the God of Armies had designated for the Confederatesthe lists where the supreme conflict must take place: they cheerfullyaccept the alternative, without seeking for any other. " All the world knows now that the position in the "lists" thus"designated" to the Union army was almost an equivalent for thethousands of men kept idle and useless elsewhere. To a certainextent the conditions of Fredericksburg are reversed, and theConfederates, in turn, must storm lofty ridges lined with artillery. Of those days of awful suspense, the 3d, 4th, and 5th of July, theFrench historian gives but a faint idea in the following words: "Inthe mean while, the North was anxiously awaiting for the resultsof the great conflict. Uneasiness and excitement were perceptibleeverywhere; terror prevailed in all those places believed to bewithin reach of the invaders. Rumors and fear exaggerated theirnumber, and the remembrance of their success caused them to bedeemed invincible. " When, therefore, the tidings came, "The rebel army totally defeated, "with other statements of the victory too highly colored, a burdenwas lifted from loyal hearts which the young of this generationcannot gauge; but with the abounding joy and gratitude there werealso, in the breasts of hundreds of thousands, sickening fear andsuspense which must remain until the fate of loved ones was known. In too vivid fancy, wives and mothers saw a bloody field strewn withstill forms, and each one asked herself, "Could I go among these, might I not recognize HIS features?" But sorrow and fear shrink from public observation, while joy andexultation seek open expression. Before the true magnitude of thevictory at Gettysburg could be realized, came the knowledge thatthe nation's greatest soldier, General Grant, had taken Vicksburgand opened the Mississippi. Marian saw the deep gladness in her father's eyes and heard it inhis tones, and, while she shared in his gratitude and relief, herheart was oppressed with solicitude for her friends. To her, whohad no near kindred in the war, these young men had become almostas dear as brothers. She was conscious of their deep affection, and she felt that there could be no rejoicing for her until she wasassured of their safety. All spoke of the battle of Gettysburg asone of the most terrific combats of the world. Two of her friendsmust have been in the thick of it. She read the blood-stainedaccounts with paling cheeks, and at last saw the words, "CaptainBlauvelt, wounded; Major Strahan, wounded and missing. " This was all. There was room for hope; there was much cause tofear the worst. From Lane there were no tidings whatever. She wasoppressed with the feeling that perhaps the frank, true eyes ofthese loyal friends might never again look into her own. With achill of unspeakable dread she asked herself what her life wouldbe without these friends. Who could ever take their place or fillthe silence made by their hushed voices? Since reading the details of the recent battle her irritation againstMerwyn had passed away, and she now felt for him only pity. Herown brave spirit had been awed and overwhelmed by the accounts ofthe terrific cannonade and the murderous hand-to-hand struggles. At night she would start up from vivid dreams wherein she saw thefield with thousands of ghastly faces turned towards the whitemoonlight. In her belief Merwyn was incapable of looking uponsuch scenes. Therefore why should she think of him with scorn andbitterness? She herself had never before realized how terriblethey were. Now that the dread emergency, with its imperative demandfor manhood and action, had passed, her heart became softenedand chastened with thoughts of death. She was enabled to form akinder judgment, and to believe it very possible that Merwyn, inthe consciousness of his weakness, was suffering more than many awounded man of sterner mettle. On the evening of the day whereon she had read the ominous wordsin regard to her friends, Merwyn's card was handed to her, and, although surprised, she went down to meet him without hesitation. His motives for this call need brief explanation. For a time he had given way to the deepest dejection in regard tohis own prospects. There seemed nothing for him to do but wait forthe arrival of his mother, whom he could not welcome. He still hada lingering hope that when she came and found her ambitious dreamsof Southern victory dissipated, she might be induced to give himback his freedom, and on this hope he lived. But, in the main, hewas like one stunned and paralyzed by a blow, and for a time hecould not rally. He had been almost sleepless for days from intenseexcitement and expectation, and the reaction was proportionatelygreat. At last he thought of Strahan, and telegraphed to Mrs. Strahan, at her country place, asking if she had heard from her son. Soon, after receiving a negative answer, he saw, in the long listsof casualties, the brief, vague statement that Marian had found. The thought then occurred to him that he might go to Gettysburgand search for Strahan. Anything would be better than inaction. He believed that he would have time to go and return before hismother's arrival, and, if he did not, he would leave directionsfor her reception. The prospect of doing something dispelled hisapathy, and the hope of being of service to his friend had decidedattractions, for he had now become sincerely attached to Strahan. He therefore rapidly made his preparations to depart that verynight, but decided first to see Marian, thinking it possible thatshe might have received some later intelligence. Therefore, althoughvery doubtful of his reception, he had ventured to call, hopingthat Marian's interest in her friend might secure for him a slightsemblance of welcome. He was relieved when she greeted him gravely, quietly, but not coldly. He at once stated his purpose, and asked if she had any informationthat would guide him in his search. Although she shook her headand told him that she knew nothing beyond what she had seen in thepaper, he saw with much satisfaction that her face lighted up withhope and eagerness, and that she approved of his effort. Whileexplaining his intentions he had not sat down, but now she cordiallyasked him to be seated and to give his plans more in detail. "I fear you will find fearful confusion and difficulty in reachingthe field, " she said. "I have no fears, " he replied. "I shall go by rail as far as possible, then hire or purchase a horse. The first list of casualties isalways made up hastily, and I have strong hopes of finding Strahanin one of the many extemporized hospitals, or, at least, of gettingsome tidings of him. " "One thing is certain, " she added, kindly, --"you have proved thatif you do find him, he will have a devoted nurse. " "I shall do my best for him, " he replied, quietly. "If he has beentaken from the field and I can learn his whereabouts, I shall followhim. " The color caused by his first slight embarrassment had faded away, and Marian exclaimed, "Mr. Merwyn, you are either ill or have beenill. " "Oh, no, " he said, carelessly; "I have only shared in the generalexcitement and anxiety. I am satisfied that we have but barelyescaped a serious outbreak in this city. " "I think you are right, " she answered, gravely, and her thought was:"He is indeed to be pitied if a few weeks of fearful expectation havemade him so pale and haggard. It has probably cost him a tremendouseffort to remain in the city where he has so much at stake. " After a moment's silence Merwyn resumed: "I shall soon take mytrain. Would you not like to write a few lines to Strahan? As Itold you, in effect, once before, they may prove the best possibletonic in case I find him. " Marian, eager to comply with the suggestion, excused herself. In herabsence her father entered. He also greeted the young man kindly, and, learning of his project, volunteered some useful instructions, adding, "I can give you a few lines that may be of service. " At last Merwyn was about to depart, and Marian, for the first time, gave him her hand and wished him "God-speed. " He flushed deeply, and there was a flash of pleasure in his dark eyes as he said, ina low tone, that he would try to deserve her kindness. At this moment there was a ring at the door, and a card was broughtin. Marian could scarcely believe her eyes, for on it was written, "Henry Blauvelt. " She rushed to the door and welcomed the young officer with exclamationsof delight, and then added, eagerly, "Where is Mr. Strahan?" "I am sorry indeed to tell you that I do not know, " Blauveltreplied, sadly. Then he hastily added: "But I am sure he was notkilled, for I have searched every part of the field where he couldpossibly have fallen. I have visited the hospitals, and have spentdays and nights in inquiries. My belief now is that he was takenprisoner. " "Then there is still hope!" exclaimed the young girl, with tearsin her eyes. "You surely believe there is still hope?" "I certainly believe there is much reason for hope. The rebelsleft their own seriously wounded men on the field, and took awayas prisoners only such of our men as were able to march. It is trueI saw Strahan fall just as we were driven back; but I am sure thathe was neither killed nor seriously wounded, for I went to the spotas soon as possible afterwards and he was not there, nor have Ibeen able, since, to find him or obtain tidings of him. He may havebeen knocked down by a piece of shell or a spent ball. A moment ortwo later the enemy charged over the spot where he fell, and whatwas left of our regiment was driven back some distance. From thatmoment I lost all trace of him. I believe that he has only beencaptured with many other prisoners, and that he will be exchangedin a few weeks. " "Heaven grant that it may be so!" she breathed, fervently. "But, Mr. Blauvelt, YOU are wounded. Do not think us indifferent becausewe have asked so eagerly after Major Strahan, for you are herealive and apparently as undaunted as ever. " "Oh, my wounds are slight. Carrying my arm in a sling gives tooserious an impression. I merely had one of the fingers of my lefthand shot away, and a scratch on my shoulder. " "But have these wounds been dressed lately?" Mr. Vosburgh asked, gravely. "And have you had your rations this evening?" Marian added, withthe glimmer of a smile. "Thanks, yes to both questions. I arrived this afternoon, and atonce saw a good surgeon. I have not taken time to obtain a bettercostume than this old uniform, which has seen hard service. " "Like the wearer, " said Marian. "I should have been sorry indeedif you had changed it. " "Well, I knew that you would be anxious to have even a negativeassurance of Strahan's safety. " "And equally so to be positively assured of your own. " "I hoped that that would be true to some extent. My dear old mother, in New Hampshire, to whom I have telegraphed, is eager to see me, and so I shall go on in the morning. " "You must be our guest, then, to-night, " said Mr. Vosburgh, decisively. "We will take no refusal, and I shall send at once tothe hotel for your luggage. " "It is small indeed, " laughed Blauvelt, flushing with pleasure, "for I came away in very light marching order. " Marian then explained that Merwyn, who, after a brief, politegreeting from Blauvelt, had been almost forgotten, was about tostart in search of Strahan. "I would not lay a straw in his way, and possibly he may obtainsome clue that escaped me, " said the young officer. "Perhaps, if you feel strong enough to tell us something of thatpart of the battle in which you were engaged, and of your search, Mr. Merwyn may receive hints which will be of service to him, " Mr. Vosburgh suggested. "I shall be very glad to do so, and feel entirely equal to theeffort. Indeed, I have been resting and sleeping in the cars nearlyall day, and am so much better that I scarcely feel it right to beabsent from the regiment. " They at once repaired to the library, Marian leaving word withMammy Borden that they were engaged, should there be other callers. CHAPTER XXXIII. A GLIMPSE OF WAR. "Captain Blauvelt, " said Marian, when they were seated in thelibrary, "I have two favors to ask of you. First, that you willdiscontinue your story as soon as you feel the least weakness, and, second, that you will not gloss anything over. I wish a life-pictureof a soldier's experience. You and Mr. Strahan have been inclinedto give me the brighter side of campaigning. Now, tell us just whatyou and Mr. Strahan did. I've no right to be the friend of soldiersif I cannot listen to the tragic details of a battle, while sittinghere in this quiet room, and I wish to realize, as I never havedone, what you and others have passed through. Do not be so modestthat you cannot tell us exactly what you did. In brief, a plain, unvarnished tale unfold, and I shall be content. " "Now, " she thought, "Mr. Merwyn shall know to whom I can give myfriendship. I do not ask him, or any one, to face these scenes, but my heart is for a man who can face them. " Blauvelt felt that he was fortunate indeed. He knew that he hadfair powers as a raconteur, and he was conscious of having taken nounworthy part in the events he was about to describe, while she, who required the story, was the woman whom he most admired, andwhose good opinion was dear to him. Therefore, after a moment's thought, he began: "In order to giveyou a quiet, and therefore a more artistic prelude to the tragedyof the battle, I shall touch lightly on some of the incidents ofour march to the field. I will take up the thread of our experienceson the 15th of June, for I think you were quite well informed ofwhat occurred before that date. The 15th was one of the hottestdays that I remember. I refer to this fact because of a pleasantincident which introduces a little light among the shadows, andsuggests that soldiers are not such bad fellows after all, althoughinclined to be a little rough and profane. Our men suffered terriblyfrom the heat, and some received sunstrokes. Many were obliged tofall out of the ranks, but managed to keep up with the column. Atnoon we were halted near a Vermont regiment that had just drawn aration of soft bread and were boiling their coffee. As our exhaustedmen came straggling and staggering in, these hospitable Vermontersgave them their entire ration of bread and the hot coffee preparedfor their own meal; and when the ambulances brought in the men whohad been sun-struck, these generous fellows turned their camp intoa temporary hospital and themselves into nurses. "I will now give you a glimpse of a different experience. Towardsevening on the 19th a rain-storm began, and continued all night. No orders to halt came till after midnight. On we splashed, waded, and floundered along roads cut up by troops in advance until themud in many places reached the depth of ten inches. It was intenselydark, and we could not see to pick our way. Splashed from head tofoot, and wet through for hours, we had then one of the most dismalexperiences I remember. I had not been well since the terribleheat of the 15th, and Strahan, putting on the air of a martinet, sternly ordered me to mount his horse while he took charge of mycompany. " Marian here clapped her hands in applause. "At last we were ordered to file to the right into a field and bivouacfor the night. The field proved to be a marshy meadow, worse thanthe road. But there was no help for it, and we were too tired tohunt around in the darkness for a better place. Strahan mountedagain to assist in giving orders for the night's arrangement, andto find drier ground if possible. In the darkness he and his horsetumbled into a ditch so full of mire and water that he escaped allinjury. We sank half-way to our knees in the swampy ground, and thehorses floundered so that one or two of the officers were thrown, and all were obliged to dismount. At last, by hallooing, the regimentformed into line, and then came the unique order from the colonel, 'Squat, my bull-frogs. ' There was nothing for us to do but tolie down on the swampy, oozing ground, with our shelter tents andblankets wrapped around and under us. You remember what an exquisiteStrahan used to be. I wish you could have seen him when the morningrevealed us to one another. He was of the color of the sacred soilfrom crown to toe. When we met we stood and laughed at each other, and I wanted him to let me make a sketch for your benefit, but wehadn't time. "I will now relate a little incident which shows how promptlypluck and character tell. During the 25th we were pushed forwardnot far from thirty miles. On the morning of this severe marcha young civilian officer, who had been appointed to the regimentby the Governor, joined us, and was given command of Company I. When he took his place in the march there was a feeling of intensehostility toward him, as there ever is among veterans againstcivilians who are appointed over them. If he had fallen out of theranks and died by the roadside I scarcely believe that a man wouldhave volunteered to bury him. But, while evidently unaccustomed tomarching, he kept at the head of his company throughout the entireday, when every step must have been torture. He uttered not a wordof complaint, and at night was seen, by the light of a flaringcandle, pricking the blisters on his swollen feet; then he put onhis shoes, and walked away as erect as if on parade. In those fewhours he had won the respect of the entire regiment, and had becomeone of us. Poor fellow! I may as well mention now that he waskilled, a few days later, with many of the company that he wasbravely leading. His military career lasted but little over a week, yet he proved himself a hero. "Now I will put in a few high lights again. On the 28th we enteredFrederick City. Here we had a most delightful experience. The daywas warm and all were thirsty. Instead of the cold, lowering glancesto which we had been accustomed in Virginia, smiling mothers, oftenaccompanied by pretty daughters, stood in the gateways with pailsand goblets of cool, sparkling water. I doubt whether the samenumber of men ever drank so much water before, for who could passby a white hand and arm, and a pretty, sympathetic face, beamingwith good-will? Here is a rough sketch I made of a Quaker matron, with two charming daughters, and an old colored man, 'totin'' waterat a rate that must have drained their well. " Marian praised the sketch so heartily that Merwyn knew she wastaking this indirect way to eulogize the soldier as as well as theartist, and he groaned inwardly as he thought how he must sufferby contrast. "I will pass over what occurred till the 1st of July. Our marchlay through a country that, after desolated Virginia, seemed likeparadise, and the kind faces that greeted us were benedictions. July 1st was clear, and the sun's rays dazzling and intense in theirheat. Early in the afternoon we were lying around in the shade, about two miles from the State line of Pennsylvania. Two corpshad preceded us. Some of our men, with their ears on the ground, declared that they could hear the distant mutter of artillery. Thecountry around was full of troops, resting like ourselves. "Suddenly shrill bugle-blasts in every direction called us intoline. We were moved through Emmetsburg, filed to the left intoa field until other troops passed, and then took our place in thecolumn and began a forced march to Gettysburg. Again we sufferedterribly from the heat and the choking clouds of dust raised bycommands in advance of us. The sun shone in the west like a great, angry furnace. Our best men began to stagger from the ranks and fallby the wayside, while every piece of woods we passed was filledwith prostrate men, gasping, and some evidently dying. But on, along that white, dusty road, the living torrent poured. Only onecommand was heard. 'Forward! Forward!' "First, like a low jar of thunder, but with increasing volume andthreatening significance, the distant roar of artillery quickenedthe steps of those who held out. Major Strahan was again on hisfeet, with other officers, their horses loaded down with the riflesof the men. Even food and blankets, indeed almost everything exceptammunition, was thrown away by the men, for, in the effort to reachthe field in time, an extra pound became an intolerable burden. "At midnight we were halted on what was then the extreme left ofMeade's position. When we formed our regimental line, as usual, at the close of the day, not over one hundred men and but five orsix officers were present. Over one hundred and fifty had givenout from the heat and fatigue. The moment ranks were broken the menthrew themselves down in their tracks and slept with their loadedguns by their sides. Strahan and I felt so gone that we determinedto have a little refreshment if possible. Lights were gleaming froma house not far away, and we went thither in the hope of purchasingsomething that would revive us. We found the building, and eventhe yard around it, full of groaning and desperately wounded men, with whom the surgeons were busy. This foretaste of the morrow tookaway our appetites, and we returned to our command, where Strahanwas soon sleeping, motionless, as so many of our poor fellows wouldbe on the ensuing night. "Excessive fatigue often takes from me the power to sleep, and I layawake, listening to the strange, ominous sounds off to our right. There were the heavy rumble of artillery wheels, the tramp of men, and the hoarse voices of officers giving orders. In the still nightthese confused sounds were wonderfully distinct near at hand, butthey shaded off in the northeast to mere murmurs. I knew that itwas the army of the Potomac arriving and taking its positions. Thenext day I learned that General Meade had reached the field aboutone A. M. , and that he had spent the remaining hours of the nightin examining the ground and in making preparations for the comingstruggle. The clear, white moonlight, which aided him in his task, lighted up a scene strange and beautiful beyond words. It glintedon our weapons, gave to the features of the sleepers the hueof death, and imparted to Strahan's face, who lay near me, almostthe delicacy and beauty of a girl. I declare to you, that when Iremembered the luxurious ease from which he had come, the hero hewas now, and all his many acts of kindness to me and others, --whenI thought of what might be on the morrow, I'm not ashamed to saythat tears came into my eyes. " "Nor am I ashamed, " faltered Marian, "that you should see tears inmine. Oh, God grant that he may return to us again!" "Well, " resumed Blauvelt, after a moment of thoughtful hesitation, "I suppose I was a little morbid that night. Perhaps one was excusable, for all knew that we were on the eve of the most desperate battleof the war. I shall not attempt to describe the beauty of thelandscape, or the fantastic shapes taken by the huge boulders thatwere scattered about. My body seemed almost paralyzed with fatigue, but my mind, for a time, was preternaturally active, and noted everylittle detail. Indeed, I felt a strange impulse to dwell upon andrecall everything relating to this life, since the chances wereso great that we might, before the close of another day, enter adifferent state of existence. You see I am trying, as you requested, to give you a realistic picture. " "That is what I wish, " said the young girl; but her cheeks werepale as she spoke. "In the morning I was awakened by one of my men bringing me a cupof hot coffee, and when I had taken it, and later a little breakfastof raw pork and hard-tack, I felt like a new man. Nearly all of ourstragglers had joined us during the night, or in the dawn, and ourregiment now mustered about two hundred and forty rifles in line, a sad change from the time when we marched a thousand strong. Butthe men now were veterans, and this almost made good the difference. "When the sun was a few hours high we were moved forward with therest of our brigade; then, later, off to the left, and placed inposition on the brow of a hill that descended steeply before us, and was covered with rocks, huge boulders, and undergrowth. Theright of our regiment was in the edge of a wood with a smootherslope before it. I and my company had no other shelter than therocks and boulders, which formed a marked feature of the locality, and protruded from the soil in every imaginable shape. If we hadonly thrown the smaller stones together and covered them with earthwe might have made, during the time we wasted, a line of defencefrom which we could not have been driven. The 2d of July taught usthat we had still much to learn. As it was, we lounged about uponthe grass, seeking what shade we could from the glare of anotherintensely hot day, and did nothing. "A strange, ominous silence pervaded the field for hours, brokenonly now and then by a shell screaming through the air, and thesullen roar of the gun from which it was fired. The pickets alongour front would occasionally approach the enemy too closely, and therewould be brief reports of musketry, again followed by oppressivesilence. A field of wheat below us undulated in light billowsas the breeze swept it. War and death would be its reapers. Thebirds were singing in the undergrowth; the sun lighted up the rurallandscape brilliantly, and it was almost impossible to believethat the scenes of the afternoon could, take place. By sweepingour eyes up and down our line, and by resting them upon a batteryof our guns but a few yards away, we became aware of the significanceof our position. Lee's victorious army was before us. Sinisterrumors of the defeat of Union forces the previous day had reachedus, and we knew that the enemy's inaction did not indicate hesitationor fear, but rather a careful reconnaissance of our lines, that theweakest point might be discovered. Every hour of delay, however, was a boon to us, for the army of the Potomac was concentratingand strengthening its position. "We were on the extreme left of the Union army; and, alas for us!Lee first decided to turn and crush its left. As I have said, wewere posted along the crest of a hill which sloped off a littleto the left, then rose again, and culminated in a wild, rockyelevation called the Devil's Den, --fit name in view of the scenesit witnessed. Behind us was a little valley through which flowed asmall stream called Plum Run. Here the artillery horses, caissons, and wagons were stationed, that they might be in partial shelter. Across the Run, and still further back, rose the rocky, precipitousheights of Little Round Top, where, during the same afternoon, some of the severest fighting of the battle is said to have takenplace. Please give me a sheet of paper, and I can outline thenature of the ground just around us. Of the general battle of thatday I can give you but a slight idea. One engaged in a fight sees, as a rule, only a little section of it; but in portraying that hegives the color and spirit of the whole thing. " Rapidly sketching for a few minutes, Blauvelt resumed: "Here weare along the crest of this hill, with a steep, broken declivityin front of us, extending down a few hundred yards to another smallstream, a branch of Plum Run. Beyond this branch the ground risesagain to some thick woods, which screened the enemy's movements. "At midday clouds of dust were seen rising in the distance, and weat last were told that Sedgwick's corps had arrived, and that theentire army of the Potomac was on the ground. As hours still elapsedand no attack was made, the feeling of confidence grew stronger. Possibly Lee had concluded that our position was unassailable, orsomething had happened. The soldier's imagination was only secondto his credulity in receiving the rumors which flew as thick asdid the bullets a little later. "Strahan and I had a quiet talk early in the day, and said what wewished to each other. After that he became dreamy and absorbed inhis own thoughts as we watched for signs of the enemy through hoursthat seemed interminable. Some laughing, jesting, and card-playingwent on among the men, but in the main they were grave, thoughtful, and alert, spending the time in discussing the probabilities ofthis conflict, and in recalling scenes of past battles. "Suddenly--it could not have been much past three o'clock--a dozenrebel batteries opened upon us, and in a second we were in a tempestof flying, bursting shells. Our guns, a few yards away, and otherbatteries along our line, replied. The roar of the opening battlethundered away to the right as far as we could hear. We were formedinto line at once, and lay down upon the ground. A few of our menwere hit, however, and frightful wounds were inflicted. After thisiron storm had raged for a time we witnessed a sight that I shallnever forget. Emerging from the woods on the slope opposite to us, solid bodies of infantry, marching by columns of battalion, camesteadily toward us, their bayonets scintillating in the sunlight asif aflame. On they came till they crossed the little stream beforeus, and then deployed into four distinct lines of battle as steadilyas if on parade. It was hard to realize that those men were marchingtowards us in the bright sunlight with deadly intent. Heretofore, in Virginia, the enemy had been partially screened in his approaches, but now all was like a panorama spread before us. We could see ourshells tearing first through their column, then through the lines ofbattle, making wide gaps and throwing up clouds of dust. A secondlater the ranks were closed again, and, like a dark tide, on flowedtheir advance. "We asked ourselves, 'What chance have our thin ranks against thosefour distinct, heavy battle lines advancing to assault us?' We hadbut two ranks of men, they eight. But not a man in our regimentflinched. When the enemy reached the foot of the hill our cannoncould not be so depressed as to harm them. The time had come forthe more deadly small arms. After a momentary halt the Confederatesrushed forward to the assault with loud yells. "Strahan's face was flushed with excitement and ardor. He hastenedto the colonel on the right of the line and asked him to order acharge. The colonel coolly and quietly told him to go back to hisplace. A crash of musketry and a line of fire more vivid than Julysunshine breaks out to the right and left as far as we can hear. Our men are beginning to fall. Again the impetuous Strahan hastensto the colonel and entreats for the order to charge, but ourcommander, as quiet and as impassive as the boulder beside whichhe stands, again orders him back. A moment later, however, theirhorses are brought, and they mount in spite of my remonstrances andthose of other officers. Strahan's only answer was, "The men mustsee us to-day;" and he slowly rode to the rear and centre of theregiment, wheeled his horse, and, with drawn sword, fixed his eyeson the colonel, awaiting his signal. Supreme as was the moment ofexcitement, I looked for a few seconds at my gallant friend, forI wished to fix his portrait at that moment forever in my mind. " "Merciful Heaven!" said Marian, in a choking voice, "I thought Iappreciated my friends before, but I did not. " Mr. Vosburgh's eyes rested anxiously on his daughter, and he asked, gravely, "Marian, is it best for you to hear more of this to-night?" "Yes, papa. I must hear it all, and not a detail must be softenedor omitted. Moreover, " she added, proudly, dashing her tears rightand left, "I am not afraid to listen. " Merwyn had shifted his seat, and was in deep shadow. He was paleand outwardly impassive, but there was torture in his mind. Shethought, pityingly, "In spite of my tears I have a stouter heartthan he. " CHAPTER XXXIV. A GLIMPSE OF WAR, CONTINUED. "Miss Marian, " resumed Blauvelt, "the scenes I am now about todescribe are terrible in the extreme, even in their baldest statement. I cannot portray what actually took place; I doubt whether any onecould; I can only give impressions of what I saw and heard whennearly all of us were almost insane from excitement. There aremen who are cool in battle, --our colonel was, outwardly, --but thegreat majority of men must be not only veterans, but also gifted withunusual temperaments, to be able to remain calm and well balancedin the uproar of a bloody battle. "In a sense, our men were veterans, and were steady enough to aimcarefully as the enemy advanced up the steep hill. Our shots toldon them more fatally than theirs on us. The greater number of usshared Strahan's impatience, and we longed for the wild, forwarddash, which is a relief to the tremendous nervous strain at such atime. After a moment or two, that seemed ages, the colonel quietlynodded to Strahan, who waved his sword, pointed towards the enemy, and shouted, 'Charge!' "You know him well enough to be sure that this was not an orderfor the men to fulfil while he looked on. In a second his powerfulbay sprung through the centre of our line, and to keep up with himwe had to follow on a run. There was no hesitation or flagging. Faces that had been pale were flushed now. As I turned my eyesfrom moment to moment back to my company, the terrible expressionof the men's eyes impressed me even then. The colonel watched ourimpetuous rush with proud satisfaction, and then spurred his horseto the very midst of our advance. The lieutenant-colonel, undauntedby a former wound, never flinched a second, but wisely fought onfoot. "The first battle-line of the enemy seemed utterly unable to standbefore our fierce onset. Those who were not shot fled. "Again I saw Strahan waving his sword and shouting; 'Victory!Forward, men! forward!' "He was in the very van, leading us all. At this moment the secondrebel line fired a volley, and the bullets swept by like an autumngust through a tree from which the leaves, thinned by former gales, are almost stripped. It seemed at the moment as if every other manwent down. Wonder of wonders, as the smoke lifted a little, I sawto the right the tall form of our colonel still on his gray horse, pointing with his sword to the second rebel line, and shouting, 'Forward, my men! forward!' "As the order left his lips, his sword fell, point-downward, and, with a headlong curve, he went over his horse upon the rocks below. Even in his death he went towards the enemy. His horse galloped inthe same direction, but soon fell. I thought that Strahan was gonealso, for he was hidden by smoke. A second later I heard his voice:'Forward! Charge!' "The men seemed infuriated by the loss of the colonel, and by nomeans daunted. Our next mad rush broke the second line of the enemy. "The scene now defies all my powers of description. The littlehandful of men that was left of my company were almost beyondcontrol. Each soldier was acting under the savage impulse to followand kill some rebel before him. I shared the feeling, yet remainedsane enough to thank God when I saw Strahan leap lightly down fromhis staggering horse, yet ever crying, 'Forward!' A second laterthe poor animal fell dead. "Our own cannons were bellowing above us; the shells of the enemywere shrieking over our heads. There was a continuous crash ofmusketry that sounded like a fierce, devouring flame passing throughdry thorns, yet above all this babel of horrid sounds could be heardthe shouts and yells of the combatants and the shrieks and groansof wounded and dying men. Then remember that I saw but a littlesection, a few yards in width, of a battle extending for miles. "In our mad excitement we did not consider the odds against us. Thetwo remaining lines of battle were advancing swiftly through thefugitives, and we struck the first with such headlong impetuositythat it was repulsed and gave back; but the fourth and last linepassing through, and being reinforced by the other broken lines, came unfaltering, and swept us back from sheer weight of numbers. We were now reduced to a mere skirmish line. It was at this momentthat I saw Strahan fall, and it seemed but a second later that theenemy's advance passed over the spot. It was impossible then torescue him, for the lieutenant-colonel had given orders for allto fall back and rally behind the guns that it was our duty toprotect. Indeed, the difficult thing, now, was to get back. TheUnion regiment, on our right, had given way, after a gallant fight, earlier than we had, and the rebels were on our flank and rear. Anumber of our men going to the ridge, from which they had charged, ran into the enemy and were captured. There were desperate hand-to-handencounters, hair-breadth escapes, and strange episodes. "One occurs to me which I saw with my own eyes. It happened alittle earlier in the fight. We were so close to the enemy that aman in my company had not time to withdraw his ramrod, and, in hisinstinctive haste to shoot first at a rebel just before him, sentramrod and all through the Confederate's body, pinning him to theground. The poor fellow stretched out his hands and cried for mercy. My man not only wished to recover his rod, but was, I believe, actuated by a kindly impulse, for he ran to the 'Johnny, " pulledout the rod, jerked the man to his feet, and started him on a runto our rear as prisoner. "When at last what was left of the regiment reached its originalposition it numbered no more than a full company. Scarcely a hundredwere in line. Over one hundred of our men and the majority of theofficers were either killed or wounded. While the lieutenant-colonelwas rallying us near the battery, a shell struck a gun-carriage, hurling it against him, and he was home senseless from the field. The command now devolved on the senior captain left unwounded. "One of my men now said to me, 'Captain, why don't you go to therear? Your face is so covered with blood that you must be badlyhurt. ' "It was only at that moment that I became conscious of my wound. Inmy intense anxiety about Strahan, in the effort to get my men backin something like order, and in the shock of seeing the lieutenant-colonelstruck down, my mind seemed almost unaware of the existence ofthe body. In the retreat I had felt something sting my hand likea nettle, and now found one of the fingers of my left hand badlyshattered. With this hand I had been wiping my brow, for it wasintensely hot. I therefore was the most sanguineous-looking man ofour number. "Of course I did not go to the rear because of a wound of so slighta nature, and my earnest hope was that reinforcements would enableus to drive the enemy back so that I could go to the spot where Ihad seen Strahan fall. "What I have vainly attempted to describe occurred in less timethan I have taken in telling about it. I think it would have beenmuch better if we had never left the line which we now occupied, and which we still held in spite of the overwhelming superiority, in numbers, of the enemy. If, instead of wasting the morning hours, we had fortified this line, we never could have been driven fromit. "Our immediate foes, in front of us did not at that time advancemuch farther than the point of our repulse, and, like ourselves, sought cover from which to fire. We now had a chance to recovera little from our wild excitement, and to realize, in a slightdegree, what was taking place around us. Information came thatour corps-commander had been seriously wounded. Our own colonellay, with other dead officers, a little in our rear, yet in plainsight. We could only give them a mournful glance, for the battlewas still at its height, and was raging in our front and for milesto the right. The thunder of three hundred or more guns made thevery earth tremble, while the shrieking and bursting of the shellsabove us filled the air with a din that was infernal. "But we had little chance to observe or think of anything exceptthe enemy just below us. With wolfish eyes they were watching everychance to pick off our men. Many of our killed and wounded on thebloody declivity were in plain view, and one poor fellow, desperatelyhurt, would often raise his hand and wave it to us. "Our men acted like heroes, and took deliberate aim before theyfired. When a poor fellow dropped, one of our officers picked upthe rifle and fired in his place. " "Did you do that?" Marian asked. "Yes; my sword was of no service, and my handful of men needed noorders. Anything at such a time is better than inaction, and we allfelt that the line must be held. Every bullet counted, you know. "Some of our boys did very brave things at this time. For instance:rifles, that had become so clogged or hot as to be unserviceable, were dropped, and the men would say to their immediate companions, 'Be careful how you fire, ' and then rush down the slope, pick upthe guns of dead or wounded comrades, and with these continue thefight. "At last the enemy's fire slackened a little, and I went to takemy farewell look at our colonel and others of our officers whosebodies had been recovered. These were then carried to the rear, and I never saw their familiar faces again. "The horses now came up at a gallop to take away the battery nearus, and I saw a thing which touched me deeply. As the horses wereturning that a gun might be limbered up, a shot, with a clean cut, carried away a leg from one of the poor animals. The faithful, well-trained beast, tried to hobble around into his place on threelegs. He seemed to have caught the spirit which animated the entirearmy that day. "As I turned toward the regiment, the cry went up, 'They are flankingus!' "The brief slackening of the enemy's fire had only indicatedpreparations for a general forward movement. An aid now gallopedto us with orders to fall back instantly. A few of my men had beenplaced, for the sake of cover, in the woods on the right, and Ihastened over to them to give the order. By the time I had collectedthem, the enemy had occupied our old position and we barely escapedcapture. When we caught up with the regiment, our brigade-commanderhad halted it and was addressing it in strong words of eulogy;adding, however, that he still expected almost impossible thingsof his troops. "It was pleasant to know that our efforts had been recognized andappreciated, but our hearts were heavy with the thoughts of thosewe had lost. We were now sent to a piece of woods about a mile tothe rear, as a part of the reserve, and it so happened that we werenot again called into the fight, which ended, you know, the nextday. "I had bound up my fingers as well as I could, and now, in reactionand from loss of blood, felt sick and faint. I did not wish to goto our field hospital, for I knew the scenes there were so horriblethat I should not be equal to witnessing them. Our surgeon cameand dressed my finger for me, and said that it would have to comeoff in the morning, and I now found that my shoulder also had beenslightly cut with a bullet. These injuries on that day, however, were the merest trifles. "Our supper was the dreariest meal I ever took. The men spoke insubdued tones, and every now and then a rough fellow would draw hissleeve across his eyes, as so many things brought to mind those whohad breakfasted with us. We were like a household that had returnedfrom burying the greater part of its number. Yes, worse than this, for many, suffering from terrible wounds, were in the hands of theenemy. "Of course I grieved for the loss of men and officers, but I hadcome to feel like a brother towards Strahan, and, fatigued as Iwas, solicitude on his account kept me awake for hours. The battlewas still raging on our extreme right, and I fell asleep beforethe ominous sounds ceased. "Waking with the dawn, I felt so much better and stronger that Itook a hasty cup of coffee, and then started toward the spot whereI had seen Strahan fall, in the hope of reaching it. The surgeon hadordered that I should be relieved from duty, and told me to keepquiet. This was impossible with my friend's fate in such uncertainty. I soon found that the enemy occupied the ground on which we hadfought, and that to go beyond a certain point would be death orcaptivity. Therefore I returned, the surgeon amputated my finger, and then I rested with the regiment several hours. With the dawn, heavy fighting began again on the extreme right, but we knew atthe time little of its character or object. "After an early dinner I became restless and went to our corps-hospitalsto look after such of the wounded of my company as had been carriedthither. It was situated in a grove not far away. I will not describethe scenes witnessed there, for it would only give you useless pain. The surgeons had been at work all the night and morning around theamputation tables, and our doctor and chaplain had done about allthat could be accomplished for our poor fellows. There were hundredsof men lying on the ground, many of whom were in the agonies ofdeath even as I passed. "I again went back to see if there had been any change in our frontwhich would enable me to reach Strahan. This still being impossible, I continued along our lines to the right at a slow pace, that Imight gain some idea of our position and prospects. My hope now ofreaching Strahan lay in our defeating Lee and gaining the field. Therefore I had a double motive to be intensely interested in allI saw. Since nine in the morning a strange silence had settled onthe field, but after yesterday's experience it raised no delusivehopes. With the aid of a small field-glass that I carried, I couldsee the enemy's batteries, and catch glimpses of their half-concealedinfantry, which were moving about in a way that indicated activepreparation for something. Our officers had also made the most ofthis respite, and there had been a continuous shifting of troops, strengthening of lines, and placing of artillery in position sincethe dawn. Now, however, the quiet was wonderful, in view of thevast bodies of men which were hi deadly array. Even the spitefulpicket-firing had ceased. "I had barely reached a high point, a little in the rear of theSecond Corps, commanded by General Hancock, when I saw evidencesof excitement and interest around me. Eyes and field-glasses weredirected towards the enemy's lines nearly opposite. Springing ona rock near me, I turned my glass in the same direction, and sawthat Lee was massing his artillery along the edge of the woods onthe ridge opposite. The post of observation was a good one, and Idetermined to maintain it. The rock promised shelter when the irontempest should begin. "Battery after battery came into position, until, with my glass, I could count nearly a hundred guns. On our side batteries weremassing also, both to the right and the left of where I stood. Experience had so taught me what these preparations meant that Ifairly trembled with excitement and awe. It appeared as if I wereabout to witness one of the most terrific combats of the world, and while I might well doubt whether anything could survivethe concentrated fire of these rebel guns, I could not resist thedesire to see out what I felt must be the final and supreme effortof both armies. Therefore I stuck to my rock and swept with my glassthe salient points of interest. I dreaded the effect of the awfulcannonade upon our lines of infantry that lay upon the ground belowme, behind such slight shelter as they could find. Our position atthis point was commanding, but many of the troops were fearfullyexposed, while our artillerymen had to stand in plain view. Overall this scene, so awfully significant and unnaturally quiet, the scorching July sun sent down its rays like fiery darts, whicheverywhere on the field scintillated as if they were kindlinginnumerable fires. "At last the enemy fired a single gun. Almost instantly a flashingline of light swept along the massed Confederate batteries, I sprungdown behind my rock as a perfect storm of iron swept over and aroundme, and my heart stood almost still at the deep reverberationswhich followed. This was but the prelude to the infernal symphonythat followed. With remarkable rapidity and precision of aim theenemy continued firing, not irregularly, but in immense thunderingvolleys, all together. There would be a moment's pause, and thenwould come such a storm of iron that it seemed to me that even mysheltering rock would be cut away, and that everything exposed mustbe annihilated. "At first I was exceedingly troubled that our guns did not reply. Could it be possible that the enemy's fire was so destructive thatour forces were paralyzed? I was learning to distinguish between themeasured cadences of the enemy's firing. After a hurtling showerflew over, I sprung out, took a survey, and was so filled withexultation and confidence, that I crept back again with hope renewed. Our men were standing at the guns, which officers were sighting inorder to get more accurate range, and the infantry had not budged. Of course there were streams of wounded going to the rear, but thisis true of every battle. "I now had to share my slight cover with several others, and sawthat if I went out again I should lose it altogether. So I determinedto wait out the artillery duel quietly. I could see the effectsof the enemy's shells in the rear, if not in front, and these weredisastrous enough. In the depression behind the ridge on which wereour guns and infantry, there were ammunition-wagons, ambulances, and caissons. Among these, shells were making havoc. Soon a caissonexploded with a terrific report and a great cloud of smoke, which, clearing, revealed many prostrate forms, a few of which were ableto crawl away. "Minutes, which seemed like ages, had passed, and the horrible dinwas then doubled by the opening of all our batteries. The groundbeneath me trembled, but as time passed and our guns kept up theirsteady fire, and the infantry evidently remained unshaken in theirlines of defence, my confidence became stronger. By degrees you growaccustomed to almost anything, and I now found leisure to observemy companions behind the rock. I instantly perceived that two ofthem were press-correspondents, young, boyish-looking fellows, whocertainly proved themselves veterans in coolness and courage. Evenin that deadly tempest they were alert and busy with their note-books. "When the caisson exploded, each swiftly wrote a few cabalisticsymbols. There was a house to the left, as we sat feeing our rear, and I saw that they kept their eyes on that almost continually. Curious to know why, I shouted in the ear of one, asking thereason. He wrote, 'Meade's headquarters, ' and then I shared theirsolicitude. That it was occupied by some general of high rank, wasevident from the number of horses tied around it, and the rapidcoming and going of aids and orderlies; but it seemed a terriblething that our commander-in-chief should be so exposed. Shells flewabout the little cottage like angry hornets about their nest, andevery few minutes one went in. The poor horses, tied and helpless, were kicking and plunging in their terror, and one after anotherwent down, killed or wounded. I was told that General Meade andstaff were soon compelled to leave the place. "The hours of the cannonade grew monotonous and oppressive. Againand again caissons were exploded and added to the terrible listof casualties. Wagons and ambulances--such of them as were notwrecked--were driven out of range. Every moment or two the groundshook with the recoil and thunder of our batteries, while the airabove and around us seemed literally filled with shrieking, moaning, whistling projectiles of almost every size and pattern in presentuse. From them came puffs of smoke, sharp cracks, heard above thegeneral din, as they exploded and showered around us pieces ofjagged iron. When a shell bursts, its fragments strike the groundobliquely, with a forward movement; therefore our comparativesafety behind our rock, which often shook from the terrific impactof missiles on its outer side. So many had now sought its shelterthat some extended beyond its protection, and before the cannonadewas over two were killed outright, almost within reach of my arm. Many of the wounded, in going to the rear, were struck down beforereaching a place of safety. The same was true of the men bringingammunition from the caissons in the depression beneath us. Every fewminutes an officer of some rank would be carried by on a stretcher, with a man or two in attendance. I saw one of these hastily movinggroups prostrated by a shell, and none of them rose again orstruggled. I only tell you of these scenes in compliance with yourwish, Miss Marian, and because I see that you have the spirit ofa soldier. I was told that, in the thickest of the fight, the wifeof a general came on the field in search of her husband, who wasreported wounded. I believe that you could have done the same. " "I don't know, " she replied, sadly, --"I don't know, for I neverrealized what war was before;" and she looked apprehensively atMerwyn, fearing to see traces of weakness. His side face, as he satin the shadow, was pale indeed, but he was rigid and motionless. She received the impression that he was bracing himself by thewhole strength of his will to listen through the dreadful story. Again Mr. Vosburgh suggested that these details were too terrificfor his daughter's nerves, but she interrupted him almost sternly, saying: "No, papa, I intend to know just what my friends havepassed through. I feel that it is due to them, and, if I cannothear quietly, I am not worthy to be their friend. I can listen towords when Southern girls can listen to bullets. Captain Blauvelt, you are describing the battle exactly as I asked and wished. My onlyfear is that you are going beyond your strength;" and she pouredhim out a glass of light wine. "When you come to hear all I passed through after leaving thatrock, you will know that this story-telling is not worth thinkingabout, " said Blauvelt, with a slight laugh, "All my exposure waswell worth the risk, for the chance of telling it to a woman of yournerve. My hope now is that Strahan may some day learn how stanchwas our 'home support, ' as we were accustomed to call you. I assureyou that many a man has been inspired to do his best because ofsuch friendship and sympathy. I am now about to tell you of thegrandest thing I ever saw or expect to see, and shall not abate onejot of praise because the heroic act was performed by the enemy. " CHAPTER XXXV. THE GRAND ASSAULT. "After seeming ages had passed, " Blauvelt resumed, having taken afew moments of rest, "the fire of our artillery slackened and soonceased, and that of the rebete also became less rapid and furious. We saw horses brought up, and some of our batteries going to therear at a gallop. Could our guns have been silenced? and was disasterthreatening us? Our anxiety was so great that the two correspondentsand I rushed out and were speedily reassured. There was our infantry, still in line, and we soon saw that reserve batteries were takingthe place of those withdrawn. We afterward learned that GeneralMeade and brave General Hunt, Chief of Artillery, had ordered ourguns to be quiet and prepare for the assault which they knew wouldfollow the cannonade. "The wind blew from us towards the enemy, and our unbroken lineswere in view. All honor to the steadfast men who had kept theirplaces through the most awful artillery combat ever known on thiscontinent. For nearly two mortal hours the infantry had been obligedto lie still and see men on every side of them torn and mangled todeath; but like a wide blue ribbon, as far as the eye could reach, there they lay with the sunlight glittering on their polishedmuskets. The rebels' fire soon slackened also. We now mounted thefriendly rock, and I was busy with my glass again. As the smokelifted, which had covered the enemy's position, I saw that we hadnot been the only sufferers. Many of their guns were overturned, and the ground all along their line was thick with prostrate men. "But they and their guns were forgotten. Their part in the bloodydrama was to be superseded, and we now witnessed a sight which canscarcely ever be surpassed. Emerging from the woods on the oppositeridge, over a mile away, came long lines of infantry. Our positionwas to be assaulted. I suppose the cessation of our firing led theenemy to think that our batteries had been silenced and the infantrysupports driven from the hill. The attacking column was formingright under our eyes, and we could see other Confederate troopsmoving up on the right and left to cover the movement and aid incarrying it out. "There was bustle on our side also, in spite of the enemy'sshells, which still fell thickly along our line. New batteries werethundering up at a gallop; those at the front, which had horsesleft, were withdrawn; others remained where they had been shatteredand disabled, fresh pieces taking position beside them. The deadand wounded were rapidly carried to the rear, and the army strippeditself, like an athlete, for the final struggle. "Our batteries again opened with solid shot at the distant Confederateinfantry, but there was only the hesitation on their part incidentto final preparation. Soon on came their centre rapidly, theirflank supports, to right and left, moving after them. It provedto be the launching of a human thunderbolt, and I watched itsprogress, fascinated and overwhelmed with awe. " "Were you exposed at this time to the enemy's shells?" Marias asked. "Yes, but their fire was not so severe as it had been, andmy interest in the assault was so absorbing that I could scarcelythink of anything else. I could not help believing that the fateof our army, perhaps of the country, was to be decided there rightunder my eyes, and this by an attack involving such deadly perilto the participants that I felt comparatively safe. "The scene during the next half-hour defies description. All everwitnessed in Roman amphitheatres was child's play in comparison. The artillery on both sides had resumed its heavy din, the enemyseeking to distract our attention and render the success of theirassault more probable, and we concentrating our fire on that solidattacking column. As they approached nearer, our guns were shottedwith shells that made great gaps in their ranks, but they neverfaltered. Spaces were closed instantly, and on they still came likea dark, resistless wave tipped with light, as the sun glinted ontheir bayonets through rifts of smoke. "As they came nearer, our guns in front crumbled and decimatedthe leading ranks with grape and canister, while other batteriesfarther away to the right and left still plowed red furrows withshot and shell; but the human torrent, although shrinking anddiminishing, flowed on. I could not imagine a more sublime exhibitionof courage. Should the South rear to the skies a monument to theirsoldiers, it would be insignificant compared with that assaultingcolumn, projected across the plain of Gettysburg. "At the foot of the ridge the leaders of this forlorn hope, asit proved, halted their troops for a moment. As far as the smokepermitted me to see, it seemed that the supporting Confederatedivisions had not kept pace with the centre. Would the assault bemade? The familiar rebel yell was a speedy answer, as they startedup the acclivity, firing as they came. Now, more vivid than thesunlight, a sheet of fire flashed out along our line, and the crashof musketry drowned even the thunder of the cannon. "The mad impulse of battle was upon me, as upon every one, and Irushed down nearer our lines to get a better view, also from theinstinctive feeling that that attack must be repulsed, for it aimedat nothing less than the piercing of the centre of our army. Thefront melted away as if composed of phantoms, but other spectralmen took their place, the flashes of their muskets outlining theirposition. On, on they came, up to our front line and over it. Atthe awful point of impact there was on our side a tall, handsomebrigadier, whose black eyes glowed like coals. How he escaped solong was one of the mysteries of battle. His voice rang out abovethe horrid din as he rallied his men, who were not retreating, butwere simply pushed back by the still unspent impetus of the rebelcharge. I could not resist his appeal, or the example of hisheroism, and, seizing a musket and some cartridges belonging to afallen soldier, I was soon in the thick of it. I scarcely know whathappened for the next few moments, so terrible were the excitementand confusion. Union troops and officers were rushing in on allsides, without much regard to organization, under the same impulsewhich had actuated me. I found myself firing point-blank at theenemy but a few feet away. I saw a rebel officer waving his hatupon his sword, and fired at him. Thank Heaven I did not hit him!for, although he seemed the leading spirit in the charge, I wouldnot like to think I had killed so brave a man. In spite of all ourefforts, they pushed us back, back past the battery we were tryingto defend. I saw a young officer, not far away, although wounded, run his gun a little forward with the aid of the two or three menleft on their feet, fire one more shot, and fall dead. Then I wasparrying bayonet thrusts and seeking to give them. One fierce-lookingfellow was making a lunge at me, but in the very act fell over, pierced by a bullet. A second later the rebel officer, now seen tobe a general, had his hand on a gun and was shouting, 'Victory!'but the word died on his lips as he fell, for at this moment therewas a rush in our rear. A heavy body of men burst, like a tornado, through our shattered lines, and met the enemy in a hand-to-handconflict. "I had been nearly run over in this charge, and now regained mysenses somewhat. I saw that the enemy's advance was checked, thatthe spot where lay the Confederate general would mark the highestpoint attained by the crimson wave of Southern valor, for Uniontroops were concentrating in overwhelming numbers. The wound inmy hand had broken out afresh. I hastened to get back out of themelee, the crush, and the 'sing' of bullets, and soon reached myold post of observation, exhausted and panting. The correspondentswere still there, and one of them patted me on the shoulder in a waymeant to be encouraging, and offered to put my name in his paper, an honor which I declined. We soon parted, unknown to each other. I learned, however, that the name of the gallant brigadier was Webb, and that he had been wounded. So also was General Hancock at thispoint. "The enemy's repulse was now changed into a rout. Prisoners werebrought in by hundreds, while those retreating across the plain werefollowed by death-dealing shot and shell from our lines. As I satresting on my rock of observation, I felt that one could not exultover such a foe, and I was only conscious of profound gratitude overmy own and the army's escape. Certainly if enough men, animated bythe same desperate courage, had taken part in the attack, it wouldhave been irresistible. "As soon as I saw that the battle at this point was practicallydecided, I started back towards our left with the purpose of findingmy regiment and our surgeon, for my hand had become very painful. I was so fortunate as to meet with my command as it was being movedup within a few rods of the main line of the Third Corps, where weformed a part of the reserve. Joining my little company and seeingtheir familiar faces was like coming home. Their welcome, a cup ofcoffee, and the redressing of my wound made me over again. I had toanswer many questions from the small group of officers remaining, for they, kept in the rear all day, had not yet learned much aboutthe battle or its results. "While I gladdened their hearts with the tidings of our victory, our surgeon growled: 'I'll have you put under arrest if you don'tkeep quiet. You've been doing more than look on, or your hand wouldnot be in its present condition. ' "Soon after I fell asleep, with my few and faithful men around me, and it was nearly midnight when I wakened. " "It's very evident that none of your present audience is inclinedto sleep, " Marian exclaimed, with a deep breath. "And yet it's after midnight, " Mr. Vosburgh added. "I fear we aretaxing you, captain, far beyond your strength. Your cheeks, Marian, are feverish. " "I do not feel weary yet, " said the young officer, "if you arenot. Imagine that I have just waked up from that long nap of whichI have spoken. Miss Marian was such a sympathetic listener thatI dwelt much longer than I intended on scenes which impressed mepowerfully. I have not yet described my search for Strahan, orgiven Mr. Merwyn such hints as my experience affords. Having justcome from the field, I do not see that he could gain much by unduehaste. He can accomplish quite as much by leaving sometime tomorrow. To be frank, I believe that the only place to find Strahan isunder a rebel guard going South. Our troops may interpose in timeto release him; if not, he will be exchanged before long. " "In a matter of this kind there should be no uncertainty which canpossibly be removed, " Merwyn said, in a husky voice. "I shall nowsave time by obtaining the information you can give, for I shallknow better how to direct my search. I shall certainly go in themorning. " "Yes, captain, " said Marian, eagerly. "Since you disclaim wearinesswe could listen for hours yet. You are a skilful narrator, for, intensely as your story has interested me, you have reserved itsclimax to the last, even though your search led you only amongwoful scenes in the hospitals. " "On such scenes I will touch as lightly as possible, and chieflyfor Mr. Merwyn's benefit; for if Strahan had been left on the field, either killed or wounded, I do not see how he could have escapedme. " Then, with a smile at the young girl, he added: "Since youcredit me with some skill as a story-teller, and since my story isso long, perhaps it should be divided. In that case what I am nowabout to relate should be headed with the words, 'My search forStrahan. '" CHAPTER XXXVI. BLAUVELT'S SEARCH FOR STRAHAN. "You will remember, " said the captain, after a moment's pause, that he might take up the thread of his narrative consecutively, "that I awoke a little before midnight. At first I was confused, but soon all that had happened came back to me. I found myself apart of a long line of sleeping men that formed the reserve. Notfarther than from here across the street was another line in frontof us. Beyond this were our vigilant pickets, and then the vedettesof the enemy. All seemed strangely still and peaceful, but a singleshot would have brought thousands of men to their feet. The moonpoured a soft radiance over all, and gave to the scene a weirdand terrible beauty. The army was like a sleeping giant. Wouldits awakening be as terrible as on the last three mornings? ThenI thought of that other army sleeping beyond our lines, --an armywhich neither bugle nor the thunder of all our guns could awaken. "I soon distinguished faint, far-off sounds from the disputedterritory beyond our pickets. Rising, I put my hand to my ear, andthen heard the words, 'Water! water!' "They were the cries of wounded men entreating for that which wouldquench their intolerable thirst. The thought that Strahan might beamong this number stung me to the very quick, and I hastened to thesenior captain, who now commanded the regiment. I found him alertand watchful, with the bugle at his side, for he felt the weightof responsibility so suddenly thrust upon him. "'Captain Markham, ' I said, 'do you hear those cries for water?' "'Yes, ' he replied, sadly; 'I have heard them for hours, "'Among them may be Strahan's voice, ' I said, eagerly. "'Granting it, what could we do? Our pickets are way this side ofthe spot where he fell. ' "'Captain, ' I cried, 'Strahan was like a brother to me. I can'trest here with the possibility that he is dying yonder for a littlewater. I am relieved from duty, you know. If one of my company willvolunteer to go with me, will you give him your permission? I knowwhere Strahan fell, and am willing to try to reach him and bringhim in. ' "'No, ' said the captain, 'I can't give such permission. You mightbe fired on and the whole line aroused. You can go to our oldbrigade-commander, however--he now commands the division, --andsee what he says. He's back there under that tree. Of course, youknow, I sympathize with your feeling, but I cannot advise the risk. Good heavens, Blauvelt! we've lost enough officers already. ' "'I'll be back soon, ' I answered. "To a wakeful aid I told my errand, and he aroused the general, who was silent after he had been made acquainted with my project. "'I might bring in some useful information, ' I added, hastily. "The officer knew and liked Strahan, but said: 'I shall have to putmy permission on the ground of a reconnoissance. I should be gladto know if any changes are taking place on our front, and so wouldmy superiors. Of course you understand the risk you run when oncebeyond our pickets?' "'Strahan would do as much and more for me, ' I replied. "'Very well;' and he gave me permission to take a volunteer, atthe same time ordering me to report to him on my return. "I went back to our regimental commander, who growled, 'Well, ifyou will go I suppose you will; but it would be a foolhardy thingfor even an unwounded man to attempt. ' "I knew a strong, active young fellow in my company who wouldgo anywhere with me, and, waking him up, explained my purpose. Hewas instantly on the qui vive. I procured him a revolver, and westarted at once. On reaching our pickets we showed our authorityto pass, and were informed that the enemy's vedettes ran along theridge on which we had fought the day before. Telling our picketsto pass the word not to fire on us if we came in on the run, westole down into the intervening valley. "The moon was now momentarily obscured by clouds, and this favoredus. My plan was to reach the woods on which the right of our regimenthad rested. Here the shadows would be deep, and our chances better. Crouching and creeping silently from bush to bush, we made ourgradual progress until we saw a sentinel slowly pacing back andforth along the edge of the woods. Most of his beat was in shadow, and there were bushes and rocks extending almost to it. We watchedhim attentively for a time, and then my companion whispered: 'TheJohnny seems half dead with sleep. I believe I can steal up andcapture him without a sound. I don't see how we can get by him aslong as he is sufficiently wide awake to walk. ' "'Very well. You have two hands, and my left is almost useless, 'I said. 'Make your attempt where the shadow is deepest, and if hesees you, and is about to shoot, see that you shoot first. I'll bewith you instantly if you succeed, and cover your retreat in caseof failure. " "In a moment, revolver in hand, he was gliding, like a shadow, fromcover to cover, and it was his good fortune to steal up behind thesleepy sentinel, grasp his musket, and whisper, with his pistolagainst his head, 'Not a sound, or you are dead. ' "The man was discreet enough to be utterly silent. In a momentI was by Rush's side--that was the name of the brave fellow whoaccompanied me--and found that he had disarmed his prisoner. Itold Rush to take the rebel's musket and walk up and down the beat, and especially to show himself in the moonlight. I made the Johnnygive me his word not to escape, telling him that he would be shotinstantly if he did. I gave him the impression that others werewatching him. I then tied his hands behind him and fastened himto a tree in the shade. Feeling that I had not a moment to lose, I passed rapidly down through the woods bearing to the left. Theplace was only too familiar, and even in the moonlight I couldrecognize the still forms of some of my own company. I found twoor three of our regiment still alive, and hushed them as I pressedwater to their lips. I then asked if they knew anything aboutStrahan. They did not. Hastening on I reached the spot, by a largeboulder, where I had seen Strahan fall. He was not there, or anywherenear it. I even turned up the faces of corpses in my wish to assuremyself; for our dead officers had been partially stripped. I calledhis name softly, then more distinctly, and at last, forgetful inmy distress, loudly. Then I heard hasty steps, and crouched downbehind a bush, with my hand upon my revolver. But I had been seen. "A man approached rapidly, and asked, in a gruff voice, 'What thedevil are you doing here?' "'Looking for a brother who fell hereabouts, ' I replied, humbly. "'You are a--Yankee, ' was the harsh reply, 'and a prisoner; I knowyour Northern tongue. " "I fired instantly, and wounded him, but not severely, for he firedin return, and the bullet whizzed by my ear. My next shot broughthim down, and then I started on a dead run for the woods, regainedRush, and, with our prisoner, we stole swiftly towards our lines. We were out of sure range before the startled pickets of the enemyrealized what was the matter. A few harmless shots were sent afterus, and then we gained our lines. I am satisfied that the man I shotwas a rebel officer visiting the picket line. Our firing insidetheir lines could not be explained until the gap caused by themissing sentinel we had carried off was discovered. "Then they knew that 'Yanks, ' as they called us, had been withintheir lines. Rush, taking the sentinel's place while I was belowthe hill, had prevented an untimely discovery of our expedition. Perhaps it was well that I met the rebel officer, for he was makingdirectly towards the spot where I had left my companion. "The poor fellow we had captured was so used up that he couldscarcely keep pace with us. He said he had not had any rest worthspeaking of for forty-eight hours. I passed through our lines, nowalert, and reported at Division Headquarters. The general laughed, congratulated us, and said he was glad we had not found Strahan amongthe dead or seriously wounded, for now there was a good chance ofseeing him again. "I turned over our prisoner to him, and soon all was quiet again. Captain Markham, of our regiment, greeted us warmly, but I wasso exhausted that I contented him with a brief outline of whathad occurred, and said I would tell him the rest in the morning. Satisfied now that Strahan was not crying for water, I was soonasleep again by the side of Rush, and did not waken till the sunwas well above the horizon. "I soon learned that the vedettes of the enemy had disappeared frombefore our lines, and that our skirmishers were advancing. After ahasty breakfast I followed them, and soon reached again the groundI had visited in the night. On the way I met two of our men to whomI had given water. The other man had meanwhile died. The survivorstold me positively that they had not seen or heard of Strahan afterhe had fallen. They also said that they had received a little foodand water from the rebels, or they could not have survived. "The dead were still unburied, although parties were sent outwithin our picket line during the day to perform this sad duty, and I searched the ground thoroughly for a wide distance, actingon the possibility that Strahan might have crawled away somewhere. "I shall not describe the appearance of the field, or speak of myfeelings as I saw the bodies of the brave men and officers of ourregiment who had so long been my companions. "The rest of my story is soon told. From our surgeon I had positiveassurance that Strahan had not been brought to our corps hospital. Therefore, I felt driven to one of two conclusions: either he wasin a Confederate hospital on the field beyond our lines, or elsehe was a prisoner. "As usual, the heavy concussion of the artillery produced a rain-storm, which set in on the afternoon of the 4th, and continued all night. As the enemy appeared to be intrenching in a strong position, thereseemed no hope of doing any more that day, and I spent the nightin a piece of woods with my men. "On the dark, dreary morning of the 5th, it was soon discoveredthat the Confederate army had disappeared. As the early shades ofthe previous stormy evening had settled over the region, its movementtowards Virginia had begun. I became satisfied before night thatStrahan also was southward bound, for, procuring a horse, I rodeall day, visiting the temporary Confederate hospitals. Since theyhad left their own severely wounded men, they certainly would nothave taken Union soldiers unable to walk. Not content with my firstsearch, I spent the next two days in like manner, visiting thehouses in Gettysburg and vicinity, until satisfied that my effortwas useless. Then, availing myself of a brief leave of absence, Icame north. " Blauvelt then gave Merwyn some suggestions, adding: "If you findno trace of him on the field, I would advise, as your only chance, that you follow the track of Lee's army, especially the roads onwhich their prisoners were taken. Strahan might have given out bythe way, and have been left at some farmhouse or in a village. Itwould be hopeless to go beyond the Potomac. " Rising, he concluded: "Mark my words, and see if I am not right. Strahan is a prisoner, and will be exchanged. " Then with a laugh anda military salute to Marian, he said, "I have finished my report. " "It is accepted with strong commendation and congratulations, " shereplied. "I shall recommend you for promotion. " "Good-by, Miss Vosburgh, " said Merwyn, gravely. "I shall start inthe morning, and I agree with Captain Blauvelt that my best chancelies along the line of Lee's retreat. " Again she gave him her hand kindly in farewell; but her thoughtwas: "How deathly pale he is! This has been a night of horrorsto him, --to me also; yet if I were a man I know I could meet whatother men face. " "She was kind, " Merwyn said to himself, as he walked through thedeserted streets; "but I fear it was only the kindness of pitifultoleration. It is plainer than ever that she adores heroic action, that her ardor in behalf of the North is scarcely less than that ofmy mother for the South, and yet she thinks I am not brave enoughto face a musket What a figure I make beside the men of whom wehave heard to-night! Well, to get away, to be constantly employed, is my only hope. I believe I should become insane if I brooded muchlonger at home. " In spite of his late hours, he ordered an early breakfast, proposingto start without further delay. The next morning, as he sat down to the table, the doorbell rang, there was a hasty step down the hall, and Strahan, pale and gaunt, with his arm in a sling, burst in upon him, and exclaimed, withhis old sang froid and humor: "Just in time. Yes, thanks; I'll stayand take a cup of coffee with you. " Merwyn greeted him with mingled wonder and gladness, yet even atthat moment the thought occurred to him: "Thwarted on every side!I can do absolutely nothing. " After Strahan was seated Merwyn said: "Half an hour later I shouldhave been off to Gettysburg in search of you. Blauvelt is here, andsays he saw you fall, and since a blank, so far as you are concerned. " "Thank God! He escaped then?" "Yes; but is wounded slightly. What is the matter with your arm?" "Only a bullet-hole through it. That's nothing for Gettysburg. I was captured, and escaped on the first night's march. Dark andstormy, you know. But it's a long story, and I'm hungry as a wolf. Where's Blauvelt?" "He's a guest at Mr. Vosburgh's. " "Lucky fellow!" exclaimed Strahan; and for some reason the edge ofhis appetite was gone. "Yes, he IS a lucky fellow, indeed; and so are you, " said Merwyn, bitterly. "I was there last evening till after midnight;" andhe explained what had occurred, adding, "Blauvelt trumpeted yourpraise, and on the night of the 3d he went inside the enemy's picketline in search of you, at the risk of his life. ' "Heaven bless the fellow! Wait till I spin my yarn. I shall givehim credit for the whole victory. " "Write a note to Miss Vosburgh, and I'll send it right down. " "Confound it, Merwyn! don't you see I'm winged? You will even haveto cut my food for me as if I were a baby. " "Very well, you dictate and I'll write. By the way, I have a notefor you in my pocket. " Strahan seized upon it and forgot his breakfast. Tears suffusedhis blue eyes before he finished it, and at last he said, "Well, if you HAD found me in some hospital this would have cured me, orelse made death easy. " Merwyn's heart grew heavy, in spite of the fact that he had toldhimself so often that there was no hope for him, and he thought, "In the terrible uncertainty of Strahan's fate she found that hewas more to her than she had supposed, and probably revealed asmuch in her note, which she feared might reach him only when deathwas sure. " The glad intelligence was despatched, and then Merwyn said: "Afteryou have breakfasted I will send you down in my coupe. " "You will go with me?" "No. There is no reason why I should be present when Miss Vosburghgreets her friends. I remained last night by request, that I mightbe better informed in prosecuting my search. " Strahan changed the subject, but thought: "She's loyal to her friends. Merwyn, with all his money, has made no progress. Her choice willeventually fall on Lane, Blauvelt, or poor little me. Thank HeavenI gave the Johnnies the slip! The other fellows shall have a fairfield, but I want one, too. " Before they had finished their breakfast Blauvelt came tearing in, and there was a fire of questions between the brother-officers. Tears and laughter mingled with their words; but at last theybecame grave and quiet as they realized how many brave comradeswould march with them no more. In a few moments Blauvelt said, "Come; Miss Marian said she wouldnot take a mouthful of breakfast till you returned with me. " Merwyn saw them drive away, and said, bitterly, "Thanks to mymother, I shall never have any part in such greetings. " CHAPTER XXXVII. STRAHAN'S ESCAPE. AFTER Blauvelt had left Mr. Vosburgh's breakfast-table in obedienceto his own and Marian's wish to see Strahan at once, the young girllaughed outright--she would laugh easily to-day--and exclaimed:-- "Poor Mr. Merwyn! He is indeed doomed to inglorious inaction. Beforehe could even start on his search, Strahan found him. His part inthis iron age will consist only in furnishing the sinews of warand dispensing canned delicacies in the hospitals. I do feel sorryfor him, for last night he seemed to realize the fact himself. Helooked like a ghost, back in the shadow that he sought when CaptainBlauvelt's story grew tragic. I believe he suffered more in hearingabout the shells than Mr. Blauvelt did in hearing and seeing them. " "It's a curious case, " said her father, musingly. "He was and hasbeen suffering deeply from some cause. I have not fully acceptedyour theory yet. " "Since even your sagacity can construct no other, I am satisfiedthat I am right. But I have done scoffing at Mr. Merwyn, and shouldfeel as guilty in doing so as if I had shown contempt for physicaldeformity. I have become so convinced that he suffers terribly fromconsciousness of his weakness, that I now pity him from the depthsof my heart. Just think of a young fellow of his intelligencelistening to such a story as we heard last night and of the inevitablecontrasts that he must have drawn!" "Fancy also, " said her father, smiling, "a forlorn lover seeingyour cheeks aflame and your eyes suffused with tears of sympathyfor young heroes, one of whom was reciting his epic. Strahan issoon to repeat his; then Lane will appear and surpass them all. " "Well, " cried Marian, laughing, "you'll admit they form a trio tobe proud of. " "Oh, yes, and will have to admit more, I suppose, before long. Girls never fall in love with trios. " "Nonsense, papa, they are all just like brothers to me. " Then therewas a rush of tears to her eyes, and she said, brokenly, "The waris not over yet, and perhaps not one of them will survive. " "Come, my dear, " her father reassured her, gently, "you must imitateyour soldier friends, and take each day as it comes. Rememberingwhat they have already passed through, I predict that they allsurvive. The bravest men are the most apt to escape. " Marian's greeting of Strahan was so full of feeling, and so manytears suffused her dark blue eyes, that they inspired false hopesin his breast and unwarranted fears in that of Blauvelt. The heroicaction and tragic experience of the young and boyish Strahan hadtouched the tenderest chords in her heart. Indeed, as she stood, holding his left hand in both her own, they might easily havebeen taken for brother and sister. His eyes were almost as blue ashers, and his brow, where it had not been exposed to the weather, as fair. She knew of his victory over himself. Almost at the sametime with herself, he had cast behind him a weak, selfish, frivolouslife, assuming a manhood which she understood better than others. Therefore, she had for him a tenderness, a gentleness of regard, which her other friends of sterner natures could not inspire. Indeed, so sisterly was her feeling that she could have put her arms abouthis neck and welcomed him with kisses, without one quickening throbof the pulse. But he did not know this then, and his heart boundedwith baseless hopes. Poor Blauvelt had never cherished many, and the old career withwhich he had tried to be content defined itself anew. He wouldfight out the war, and then give himself up to his art. He could be induced to stay only long enough to finish his breakfast, and then said: "Strahan can tell me the rest of his story overthe camp-fire before long. My mother has now the first claim, andI must take a morning train in order to reach home to-night. " "I also must go, " exclaimed Mr. Vosburgh, looking at his watch, "and shall have to hear your story at second hand from Marian. Restassured, " he added, laughing, "it will lose nothing as she tellsit this evening. " "And I order you, Captain Blauvelt, to make this house yourheadquarters when you are in town, " said Marian, giving his handa warm pressure in parting. Strahan accompanied his friend to thedepot, then sought his family physician and had his wound dressed. "I advise that you reach your country home soon, " said the doctor;"your pulse is feverish. " The young officer laughed and thought he knew the reason betterthan his medical adviser, and was soon at the side of her whom hebelieved to be the exciting cause of his febrile symptoms. "Oh, " he exclaimed, throwing himself on a lounge, "isn't thisinfinitely better than a stifling Southern prison?" and he lookedaround the cool, shadowy drawing-room, and then at the smiling faceof his fair hostess, as if there were nothing left to be desired. "You have honestly earned this respite and home visit, " she said, taking a low chair beside him, "and now I'm just as eager to hearyour story as I was to listen to that of Captain Blauvelt, lastnight. " "No more eager?" he asked, looking wistfully into her face. "That would not be fair, " she replied, gently. "How can I distinguishbetween my friends, when each one surpasses even my ideal of manlyaction?" "You will some day, " he said, thoughtfully. "You cannot help doingso. It is the law of nature. I know I can never be the equal ofLane and Blauvelt. " "Arthur, " she said, gravely, taking his hand, "let me be frank withyou. It will be best for us both. I love you too dearly, I admireand respect you too greatly, to be untrue to your best interestseven for a moment. What's more, I am absolutely sure that you onlywish what is right and best for me. Look into my eyes. Do you notsee that if your name was Arthur Vosburgh, I could scarcely feeldifferently? I do love you more than either Mr. Lane or Mr. Blauvelt. They are my friends in the truest and strongest sense of the word, but--let me tell you the truth--you have come to seem like a youngerbrother. We must be about the same age, but a woman is always olderin her feelings than a man, I think. I don't say this to claim anysuperiority, but to explain why I feel as I do. Since I came toknow--to understand you--indeed, I may say, since we both changedfrom what we were, my thoughts have followed you in a way thatthey would a brother but a year or two younger than myself, --thatis, so far as I can judge, having had no brother. Don't youunderstand me?" "Yes, " he replied, laughing a little ruefully, "up to date. " "Very well, " she added, with an answering laugh, "let it be thento date. I shall not tell you that I feel like a sister withoutbeing as frank as one. I have never loved any one in the way--Oh, well, you know. I don't believe these stern times are conducive tosentiment. Come, tell me your story. " "But you'll give me an equal chance with the others, " he pleaded. She now laughed outright. "How do I know what I shall do?" sheasked. "I may come to you some day for sympathy and help. Accordingto the novels, people are stricken down as if by one of your hatefulshells and all broken up. I don't know, but I'm inclined to believethat while a girl can withhold her love from an unworthy object, she cannot deliberately give it here or there as she chooses. Nowam I not talking to you like a sister?" "Yes, too much so--" "Oh, come, I have favored you more highly than any one. " "Do not misunderstand me, " he said, earnestly, "I'm more gratefulthan I can tell you, but--" "But tell me your story. There is one thing I can give you atonce, --the closest attention. " "Very well. I only wish you were like one of the enemy's batteries, so I could take you by storm. I'd face all the guns that were atGettysburg for the chance. " "Arthur, dear Arthur, I do know what you have faced from a simplesense of duty and patriotism. Blauvelt was a loyal, generous friend, and he has told us. " "You are wrong. 'The girl I left behind me' was the corps-de-reservefrom which I drew my strength. I believe the same was true ofBlauvelt, and a better, braver fellow never drew breath. He wouldmake a better officer than I, for he is cooler and has more brains. " "Now see here, Major Strahan, " cried Marian, in mock dignity, "as your superior officer, I am capable of judging of the meritsof you both, and neither of you can change my estimate. You areinsubordinate, and I shall put you under arrest if you don't tellme how you escaped at once. You have kept a woman's curiosity incheck almost as long as your brave regiment held the enemy, andthat's your greatest achievement thus far. Proceed. Captain Blauvelthas enabled me to keep an eye on you till you fell and the enemycharged over you. Now you know just where to begin. " "My prosaic story is soon told. Swords and pike-staffs! what alittle martinet you are! Well, the enemy was almost on me. I couldsee their flushed, savage faces. Even in that moment I thought ofyou and whispered, 'Good-by, ' and a prayer to God for your happinessflashed through my mind. " "Arthur, don't talk that way. I can't stand it;" and there was arush of tears to her eyes. "I'm beginning just where you told me to. The next second therewas a sting in my right arm, then something knocked me over and Ilost consciousness for a few moments. I am satisfied, also, thatI was grazed by a bullet that tore my scabbard from my side. WhenI came to my senses, I crawled behind a rock so as not to be shotby our own men, and threw away my sword. I didn't want to surrenderit, you know. Soon after a rebel jerked me to my feet. "'Can you stand?' he asked. "'I will try, ' I answered. "'Join that squad of prisoners, then, and travel right smart. ' "I staggered away, too dazed for many clear ideas, and with otherswas hurried about half a mile away to a place filled with the rebelwounded. Here a Union soldier, who happened to have some bandageswith him, dressed my arm. The Confederate surgeons had more thanthey could do to look after their own men. Just before dark allthe prisoners who were able to walk were led into a large field, and a strong guard was placed around us. "Although my wound was painful, I obtained some sleep, and awokethe next morning with the glad consciousness that life with itschances was still mine. We had little enough to eat that day, andinsufficient water to drink. This foretaste of the rebel commissariatwas enough for me, and I resolved to escape if it were a possiblething. " "You wanted to see me a little, too, didn't you? Nevertheless, youshall have a good lunch before long. " "Such is my fate. First rebel iron and now irony. I began to playthe role of feebleness and exhaustion, and it did not require mucheffort. Of course we were all on the qui vive to see what wouldhappen next, and took an intense interest in the fight of the 3d, which Blauvelt has described. The scene of the battle was hiddenfrom us, but we gathered, from the expression of our guards' facesand the confusion around us, that all had not gone to the enemy'smind, and so were hopeful. In the evening we were marched to theoutskirts of Gettysburg and kept there till the afternoon of the4th, when we started towards Virginia. I hung back and dragged myselfalong, and so was fortunately placed near the rear of the column, and we plodded away. I thanked Heaven that the night promised tobe dark and stormy, and was as vigilant as an Indian, looking formy chance. It seemed long in coming, for at first the guards werevery watchful. At one point I purposely stumbled and fell, hopingto crawl into the bushes, but a rebel was right on me and helpedme up with his bayonet. " "O Arthur!" "Yes, the risks were great, for we had been told that the first manwho attempted to leave the line would be shot. I lagged behind asif I could not keep up, and so my vigilant guard got ahead of me, and I proposed to try it on with the next fellow. I did not darelook around, for my only chance was to give the impression that Ifell from utter exhaustion. We were winding around a mountain-sideand I saw some dark bushes just beyond me. I staggered towards themand fell just beside them, and lay as if I were dead. "A minute passed, then another, and then there was no other soundthan the tramp and splash in the muddy road. I edged still fartherand farther from this, my head down the steep bank, and soon foundmyself completely hidden. The comrade next to me either would nottell if he understood my ruse, or else was so weary that he hadnot noticed me. If the guard saw me, he concluded that I was donefor and not worth further bother. "After the column had passed, I listened to hear if others werecoming, then stumbled down the mountain, knowing that my bestchance was to strike some stream and follow the current. It wouldtake me into a valley where I would be apt to find houses. At lastI became so weary that I lay down in a dense thicket and slept tillmorning. I awoke as hungry as a famished wolf, and saw nothingbut a dense forest on every side. But the brook murmured that itwould guide me, and I now made much better progress in the daylight. At last I reached a little clearing and a wood-chopper's cottage. The man was away, but his wife received me kindly and said I waswelcome to such poor fare and shelter as they had. She gave mea glass of milk and some fried bacon and corn-bread, and I thenlearned all about the nectar and ambrosia of the gods. In theevening her husband came home and said that Lee had been whippedby the Yanks, and that he was retreating rapidly, whereon I drankto the health of my host nearly all the milk given that night byhis lean little cow. He was a good-natured, loutish sort of fellow, and promised to guide me in a day or two to the west of the lineof retreat. He seemed very tearful of falling in with the rebels, and I certainly had seen all I wished of them for the present, soI was as patient as he desired. At last he kept his word and guidedme to a village about six miles away. I learned that Confederatecavalry had been there within twenty-four hours, and, tired as Iwas, I hired a conveyance and was driven to another village fartherto the northwest, for I now had a morbid horror of being recaptured. After a night's rest in a small hamlet, I was taken in a light wagonto the nearest railway station, and came on directly, arriving hereabout six this morning. Finding our house closed, I made a descenton Merwyn. I telegraphed mother last evening that I should be homethis afternoon. " "You should have telegraphed me, also, " said Marian, reproachfully. "You would have saved me some very sad hours. I did not sleep muchlast night. " "Forgive me. I thoughtlessly wished to give you a surprise, and Icould scarcely believe you cared so much. " "You will always believe it now, Arthur. Merciful Heaven! whatrisks you have had!" "You have repaid me a thousand-fold. Friend, sister, or wife, youwill always be to me my good genius. " "I wish the war was over, " she said, sadly. "I have not heard fromCaptain Lane for weeks, and after the battle the first tidingsfrom Blauvelt was that he was wounded and that you were woundedand missing. I can't tell you how oppressed I was with fear andforeboding. " "How about Lane?" Strahan asked, with interest. She told him briefly the story she had heard and of the silencewhich had followed. "He leads us all, " was his response. "If he survives the war, hewill win you, Marian. " "You suggest a terrible 'if' and there may be many others. I admitthat he has kindled my imagination more than any man I ever saw, butyou, Arthur, have touched my heart. I could not speak to him, hadhe returned, as I am now speaking to you. I have the odd feelingthat you and I are too near of kin to be anything to each otherexcept just what we are. You are so frank and true to me, that Ican't endure the thought of misleading you, even unintentionally. " "Very well, I'll grow up some day, and as long as you remain free, I'll not give up hope. " "Foolish boy! Grow up, indeed! Who mounted his horse in that stormof shells and bullets in spite of friendly remonstrances, and said, 'The men must see us to-day'? What more could any man do? I'm justas proud of you as if my own brother had spoken the words;" andshe took his hand caressingly, then exclaimed, "You are feverish. " A second later her hand was on his brow, and she sprung up andsaid, earnestly, "You should have attention at once. " "I fancy the doctor was right after all, " said Strahan, risingalso. "I'll take the one o'clock train and be at home in a coupleof hours. " "I wish you would stay. You can't imagine what a devoted nurse I'llbe. " "Please don't tempt me. It wouldn't be best. Mamma is counting theminutes before my return now, and it will please her if I come onan earlier train. Mountain air and rest will soon bring me around, and I can run down often. I think the fever proceeds simply frommy wound, which hasn't had the best care. I don't feel seriouslyill at all. " She ordered iced lemonade at once, lunch was hastened, and thenshe permitted him to depart, with the promise that he would writea line that very night. CHAPTER XXXVIII. A LITTLE REBEL. THE next day Marian received a note from Strahan saying that somebad symptoms had developed in connection with his wound, but thathis physician had assured him that if he would keep absolutely quietin body and mind for a week or two they would pass away, concludingwith the words: "I have promised mother to obey orders, and shehas said that she would write you from time to time about me. I donot think I shall be very ill. " "O dear!" exclaimed Marian to her father at dinner, "what times theseare! You barely escape one cause of deep anxiety before there isanother. Now what is troubling you, that your brow also is clouded?" "Is it not enough that your troubles trouble me?" "There's something else, papa. " "Well, nothing definite. The draft, you know, begins on Saturdayof this week. I shall not have any rest of mind till this ordeal isover. Outwardly all is comparatively quiet. So is a powder magazinetill a spark ignites it. This unpopular measure of the draft is tobe enforced while all our militia regiments are away. I know enoughabout what is said and thought by thousands to fear the consequences. I wish you would spend a couple of weeks with your mother in thatquiet New-England village. " "No, papa, not till you tell me that all danger is past. How muchI should have missed during the past few days if I had been away!But for my feeling that my first duty is to you, I should haveentreated for your permission to become a hospital nurse. Papa, women should make sacrifices and take risks in these times as wellas men. " "Well, a few more days will tell the story. If the draft passesoff quietly and our regiments return, I shall breathe freely oncemore. " A letter was brought in, and she exclaimed, "Captain Lane'shandwriting!" She tore open the envelope and learned little moreat that time than that he had escaped, reached our lines, and goneto Washington, where he was under the care of a skilful surgeon. "In escaping, my wound broke out again, but I shall soon be ableto travel, and therefore to see you. " In order to account for Lane's absence and silence we must takeup the thread of his story where Zeb had dropped it. The cavalryforce of which Captain Lane formed a part retired, taking with itthe prisoners and such of the wounded as could bear transportation;also the captured thief. Lane was prevented by his wound fromcarrying out his threat, which his position as chief officer ofan independent command would have entitled him to do. The tides ofwar swept away to the north, and he was left with the more seriouslywounded of both parties in charge of the assistant surgeon of hisregiment. As the shades of evening fell, the place that had resoundedwith war's loud alarms, and had been the scene of so much bustle andconfusion, resumed much of its old aspect of quiet and seclusion. Themarks of conflict, the evidence of changes, and the new conditionsunder which the family would be obliged to live, were only tooapparent. The grass on the lawn was trampled down, and there werenew-made graves in the edge of the grove. Fences were prostrate, and partly burned. Horses and live stock had disappeared. Thenegro quarters were nearly empty, the majority of the slaves havingfollowed the Union column. Confederate officers, who were welcome, honored guests but a few hours before, were on their way toWashington as prisoners. Desperately wounded and dying men werein the out-buildings, and a Union officer, the one who had led theattacking party and precipitated these events, had begun his longfight for life in the mansion itself, --a strange and unexpectedguest. Mrs. Barkdale, the mistress of the house, could scarcely rally fromher nervous shock or maintain her courage, in view of the havoc madeby the iron heel of war. Miss Roberta's heart was full of bitternessand impotent revolt. She had the courage and spirit of her race, but she could not endure defeat, and she chafed in seclusion andanger while her mother moaned and wept. Miss Suwanee now becamethe leading spirit. "We can't help what's happened, and I don't propose to sit downand wring my hands or pace my room in useless anger. We were allfor war, and now we know what war means. If I were a man I'd fight;being only a woman, I shall do what I can to retrieve our lossesand make the most of what's left. After all, we have not sufferedhalf so much as hundreds of other families. General Lee will soongive the Northerners some of their own medicine, and before thesummer is over will conquer a peace, and then we shall be proud ofour share in the sacrifices which so many of our people have made. " "I wouldn't mind any sacrifice, --no, not of our home itself, --ifwe had won the victory, " Roberta replied. "But to have been madethe instrument of our friends' defeat! It's too cruel. And thento think that the man who wrought all this destruction, loss, anddisgrace is under this very roof, and must stay for weeks, perhaps!" "Roberta, you are unjust, " cried Suwanee. "Captain Lane provedhimself to be a gallant, considerate enemy, and you know it. Whatwould you have him do? Play into our hands and compass his owndefeat? He only did what our officers would have done. The factthat a Northern officer could be so brave and considerate was arevelation to me. We and all our property were in his power, andhis course was full of courtesy toward all except the armed foeswho were seeking to destroy him. The moment that even these becameunarmed prisoners he treated them with great leniency. Because wehad agreed to regard Northerners as cowards and boors evidentlydoesn't make them so. " "You seem wonderfully taken with this Captain Lane. " "No, " cried the girl, with one of her irresistible laughs; "but ourofficer friends would have been taken with him if he had not beenwounded. I'm a genuine Southern girl, so much so that I appreciatea brave foe and true gentleman. He protected us and our home asfar as he could, and he shall have the best hospitality which thishome can now afford. Am I not right, mamma?" "Yes, my dear, even our self-respect would not permit us to adoptany other course. " "You will feel as I do, Roberta, after your natural grief and angerpass;" and she left the room to see that their wounded guest hadas good a supper as she could produce from diminished resources. The surgeon, whom she met in the hall, told her that his patient wasfeverish and a "little flighty" at times, but that he had expectedthis, adding: "The comfort of his room and good food will bring himaround in time. He will owe his life chiefly to your hospitality, Miss Barkdale, for a little thing would have turned the scale againsthim. Chicken broth is all that I wish him to have to-night, thanks. " And so the process of care and nursing began. The Union colonelhad left a good supply of coffee, sugar, and coarse rations forthe wounded men, and Suwanee did her best to supplement these, accomplishing even more by her kindness, cheerfulness, and winsomeways than by any other means. She became, in many respects, ahospital nurse, and visited the wounded men, carrying delicaciesto all alike. She wrote letters for the Confederates and readthe Bible to those willing to listen. Soon all were willing, andblessed her sweet, sunny face. The wounds of some were incurable, and, although her lovely face grew pale indeed in the presence ofdeath, she soothed their last moments with the gentlest ministrations. There was not a man of the survivors, Union or rebel, but wouldhave shed his last drop of blood for her. Roberta shared in thesetasks, but it was not in her nature to be so impartial. Even amongher own people she was less popular. Among the soldiers, on bothsides, who did the actual fighting, there was not half the bitternessthat existed generally among non-combatants and those Southernmen who never met the enemy in fair battle; and now there wasa good-natured truce between the brave Confederates and those whohad perhaps wounded them, while all fought a battle with the commonfoe, --death. Therefore the haggard faces of all lighted up withunfeigned pleasure when "Missy S'wanee, " as they had learned fromthe negroes to call her, appeared among them. But few slaves were left on the place, and these were old and feebleones who had not ventured upon the unknown waters of freedom. Theold cook remained at her post, and an old man and woman dividedtheir time between the house and the garden, Suwanee's light feetand quick hands relieving them of the easier labors of the mansion. Surgeon McAllister was loud in his praises of her general goodnessand her courtesy at the table, to which he was admitted; and Lane, already predisposed toward a favorable opinion, entertained for herthe deepest respect and gratitude, inspired more by her kindnessto his men than by favors to himself. Yet these were not few, forshe often prepared delicacies with her own hands and brought themto his door, while nearly every morning she arranged flowers andsent them to his table. Thus a week passed away. The little gathering of prostrate men, left in war's trail, was apparently forgotten except as people fromthe surrounding region came to gratify their curiosity. Lane's feverish symptoms had passed away, but he was exceedinglyweak, and the wound in his shoulder was of a nature to requirealmost absolute quiet. One evening, after the surgeon had told himof Suwanee's ministrations beside a dying Union soldier, he said, "I must see her and tell her of my gratitude. " On receiving his message she hesitated a single instant, thencame to his bedside. The rays of the setting sun illumined herreddish-brown hair as she stood before him, and enhanced her beautyin her simple muslin dress. Her expression towards him, her enemy, was gentle and sympathetic. He looked at her a moment in silence, almost as if she were a vision, then began, slowly and gravely: "Miss Barkdale, what can I say toyou? I'm not strong enough to say very much, yet I could not resttill you knew. The surgeon here has told me all, --no, not all. Deedslike yours can be told adequately only in heaven. You are fanningthe spark of life in my own breast. I doubt whether I should havelived but for your kindness. Still more to me has been your kindnessto my men, the poor fellows that are too often neglected, evenby their friends. You have been like a good angel to them. Theseflowers, fragrant and beautiful, interpret you to me. You can'tknow what reverence--" "Please stop, Captain Lane, " said Suwanee, beginning to laugh, whiletears stood in her eyes. "Why, I'm only acting as any good-heartedSouthern girl would act. I shall not permit you to think me a saintwhen I am not one. I've a little temper of my own, which isn'talways sweet. I like attention and don't mind how many bestow it--inbrief, I am just like other girls, only more so, and if I becamewhat you say I shouldn't know myself. Now you must not talk anymore. You are still a little out of your head. You can only answerone question. Is there anything you would like, --anything we cando for you to help you get well?" "No; I should be overwhelmed with gratitude if you did anythingmore. I am grieved enough now when I think of all the trouble andloss we have caused you. " "Oh, that's the fortune of war, " she said, with a light, deprecatorygesture. "You couldn't help it any more than we could. " "You are a generous enemy, Miss Barkdale. " "I'm no wounded man's enemy, at least not till he is almost well. Were I one of my brothers, however, and you were on your horse againwith your old vigor--" and she gave him a little, significant nod. He now laughed responsively, and said, "I like that. " Then he added, gravely: "Heaven grant I may never meet one of your brothers inbattle. I could not knowingly harm him. " "Thank you for saying that, " she said, gently. "Now, tell me truly, isn't there anything you wish?" "Yes, I wish to get better, so that I may have a little of yoursociety. These days of inaction are so interminably long, and youknow I've been leading a very active life. " "I fear you wouldn't enjoy the society of such a hot little rebelas I am. " "We should differ, of course, on some things, but that wouldonly give zest to your words. I'm not so stupid and prejudiced, Miss Barkdale, as to fail to see that you are just as sincere andpatriotic as I am. I have envied the enlisted men when I have heardof your attentions to them. " "Now, " she resumed, laughing, "I've found out that the 'good angel'is not treating you as well as the common soldiers. Men always letout the truth sooner or later. If Surgeon McAllister will permit, I'll read and talk to you also. " "I not only give my permission, " said the surgeon, "but also assureyou that such kindness will hasten the captain's recovery, for timehangs so heavily on his hands that he chafes and worries. " "Very well, " with a sprightly nod at the surgeon, "since we'veundertaken to cure the captain, the most sensible thing for us todo IS to cure him. You shall prescribe when and how the doses ofsociety are to be administered. " Then to Lane, "Not another word;good-night;" and in a moment she was gone. Suwanee never forgot that interview, for it was the beginningof a new and strange experience to her. From the first, her high, chivalric spirit had been compelled to admire her enemy. The unknownmanner in which he had foiled her sister's strategy showed thathis mind was equal to his courage, while his hot indignation, whenhe found them threatened by a midnight marauder, had revealed hisnature. Circumstances had swiftly disarmed her prejudices, and herwarm heart had been full of sympathy for him as he lay close tothe borders of death. All these things tended to throw down thebarriers which would naturally interpose between herself and aNorthern man. When, therefore, out of a full heart, he revealedhis gratitude and homage, she had no shield against the force ofhis words and manner, and was deeply touched. She had often receivedgallantry, admiration, and even words of love, but never before hada man looked and acted as if he reverenced her and the womanhoodshe represented. It was not a compliment that had been bestowed, but a recognition of what she herself had not suspected. By herfamily or acquaintances she had never been thought or spoken of asan especially good girl. Hoydenish in early girlhood, leading theyoung Southern gallants a chase in later years, ever full of frolicand mischief, as fond of the dance as a bird of flying, she wasliked by every one, but the graver members of the community wereaccustomed to shake their heads and remark, "She is a case; perhapsshe'll sober down some day. " She had hailed the war with enthusiasm, knowing little of its meaning, and sharing abundantly in ruralVirginia's contempt for the North. She had proved even a betterrecruiting officer than her stately sister, and no young fellowdared to approach her until be had donned the gray. When the warcame she met it with her own laughing philosophy and unconquerablebuoyancy, going wild over Southern victories and shrugging her plumpshoulders over defeats, crying: "Better luck next time. The Yankeesprobably had a hundred to one. It won't take long for Southernersto teach Northern abolitionists the difference between us. " Butnow she had seen Northern soldiers in conflict, had witnessed theutmost degree of bravery on her side, but had seen it confrontedby equal courage, inspired by a leader who appeared irresistible. This Northern officer, whose eyes had flashed like his sabre inbattle, whose wit had penetrated and used for his own purpose thescheme of the enemy, and whose chivalric treatment of women plottingagainst him had been knightly, --this man who had won her respect bystorm, as it were, had followed her simple, natural course duringthe past week, and had metaphorically bowed his knee to her inhomage. What did it mean? What had she done? Only made the best ofthings, and shown a little humanity toward some poor fellows whosesufferings ought to soften hearts of flint. Thus the girl reasoned and wondered. She did not belong to thatclass who keep an inventory of all their good traits and rate themhigh. Moulded in character by surrounding influences and circumstances, her natural, unperverted womanhood and her simple faith in Godfound unconscious expression in the sweet and gracious acts whichLane had recognized at their true worth. The most exquisite musicis but a little sound; the loveliest and most fragrant flower isbut organized matter. True, she had been engaged in homelyacts, --blessing her enemies as the Bible commanded and herwoman's heart dictated, --but how were those acts performed? In herunaffected manner and spirit consisted the charm which won the roughmen's adoration and Lane's homage. That which is simple, sincere, spontaneous, ever attains results beyond all art and calculation. "Missy S'wanee" couldn't understand it. She had always thoughtof herself as "that child, ", that hoyden, that frivolous girlwho couldn't help giggling even at a funeral, and now here comesa Northern man, defeats and captures her most ardent admirer, andbows down to her as if she were a saint! "I wish I were what he thinks me to be, " she laughed to herself. "What kind of girls have they in the North, anyway, that he goeson so? I declare, I've half a mind to try to be good, just for thenovelty of the thing. But what's the use? It wouldn't last with metill the dew was off the grass in the morning. "Heigho! I suppose Major Denham is thinking of me and pining inprison, and I haven't thought so very much about him. That showswhat kind of an 'angel' I am. Now if there were only a chance ofgetting him out by tricking his jailers and pulling the wool overthe eyes of some pompous old official, I'd take as great a risk asany Southern--'Reverence, ' indeed! Captain Lane must be cured ofhis reverence, whatever becomes of his wound. " CHAPTER XXXIX. THE CURE OF CAPTAIN LANE. A DAINTIER bouquet than usual was placed on Lane's table next morning, and the piece of chicken sent to his breakfast was broiled to thenicest turn of brown. The old colored cook was friendly to the"Linkum ossifer, " and soon discovered that "Missy S'wanee" was notaverse to a little extra painstaking. After the surgeon had made his morning rounds the young girlvisited the men also. She found them doing well, and left them doingbetter; for, in rallying the wounded, good cheer and hopefulnesscan scarcely be over-estimated. As she was returning the surgeon met her, and said, "Captain Laneis already better for your first visit and impatient for another. " "Then he's both patient and impatient. A very contradictory andimproper condition to remain in. I can read to him at once, afterI have seen if mamma wishes anything. " "Please do; and with your permission I'll take a little walk, forI, too, am restless from inaction. " "I don't think it's nice for you to read alone with that officer, "said Roberta. "I see no impropriety at all, " cried Suwanee. "Yours and mamma'srooms are but a few yards away, and you can listen to all we sayif you wish. If your colonel was sick and wounded at the Northwouldn't you like some woman to cheer him up?" "No, not if she were as pretty as you are, " replied Roberta, laughing. "Nonsense, " said Suwanee, flushing. "For all I know this captainis married and at the head of a large family. "But I'm going to find out, " she assured herself. "I shall investigatethis new species of genus homo who imagines me to be a saint. Hewasn't long in proving that Northern men were not what I supposed. Now I shall give him the harder task of proving me to be an angel;"and she walked demurely in, leaving the door open for any espionagethat her mother and sister might deem proper. Lane's face lighted up the moment he saw her, and he said: "Youhave robbed this day of its weariness already. I've had agreeableanticipations thus far, and I'm sure you will again leave pleasantmemories. " "Then you are better?" "Yes; thanks to you. " "You are given to compliments, as our Southern men are. " "I should be glad to equal them at anything in your estimation. Butcome, such honest enemies as we are should be as sincere as friends. I have meant every word I have said to you. You are harboring me, an entire stranger, who presented my credentials at first veryrudely. Now you can ask me any questions you choose. You haveproved yourself to be such a genuine lady that I should be glad tohave you think that I am a gentleman by birth and breeding. " "Oh, I was convinced of that before you put your sabre in itsscabbard on the evening of your most unwelcome arrival, when youspoiled our supper-party. You have since been confirming firstimpressions. I must admit, however, that I scarcely 'reverence'you yet, nor have I detected anything specially 'angelic. '" "Your failure in these respects will be the least of my troubles. I do not take back what I have said, however. " "Wait; perhaps you will. You are very slightly acquainted with me, sir. " "You are much less so with me, and can't imagine what an obstinatefellow I am. " "Oh, if I have to contend with obstinacy rather than judgment--" "Please let us have no contentions whatever. I have often foundthat your Southern men out-matched me, and not for the world wouldI have a dispute with a woman of your mettle. I give you my paroleto do all that you wish, as far as it is within my power, while Iam helpless on your hands. " "And when I have helped to make you well you will go and fightagainst the South again?" "Yes, Miss Barkdale, " gravely, "and so would your officers againstthe North. " "Oh, I know it. I sha'n't put any poison in your coffee. " "Nor will you ever put poison in any man's life. The most delightfulthing about you, Miss Barkdale, " he continued, laughing, "is thatyou are so genuinely good and don't know it. " "Whatever happens, " she said, almost irritably, "you must be curedof that impression. I won't be considered 'good' when I'm not. Little you know about me, indeed! Good heavens, Captain Lane! whatkind of women have you been accustomed to meet in the North? Wouldthey put strychnine in a wounded Southerner's food, and give himheavy bread, more fatal than bullets, and read novels while dyingmen were at their very doors?" "Heaven help them! I fear there are many women the world over whovirtually do just those things. " "They are not in the South, " she replied, hotly. "They are evidently not in this house, " he replied, smiling. "Youask what kind of women I am accustomed to meet. I will show you theshadow of one of my friends;" and he took from under his pillow aphotograph of Marian. "Oh, isn't she lovely!" exclaimed the girl. "Yes, she is as beautiful as you are; she is as brave as you are, and I've seen you cheering on your friends when even in the excitementof the fight my heart was filled with dread lest you or your motheror sister might be shot. She is just as ardent for the North asyou are for the South, and her influence has had much place in themotives of many who are now in the Union army. If wounded Confederateswere about her door you could only equal--you could not surpass--herin womanly kindness and sympathy. The same would be true of mymother and sisters, and millions of others. I know what you thinkof us at the North, but you will have to revise your opinions someday. " Her face was flushed, a frown was upon her brow, a doubtful smileupon her lips, and her whole manner betokened her intense interest. "You evidently are seeking to revise them, " she said, with a shortlaugh, "much as you charged our cavalry the other evening. I thinkyou are a dangerous man to the South, Captain Lane, and I don'tknow whether I should let you get well or not. " He reached out his hand and took hers, as he said, laughingly:"I should trust you just the same, even though Jeff Davis and thewhole Confederate Congress ordered you to make away with me. " "Don't you call our President 'Jeff, '" she snapped, but did notwithdraw her hand. "I beg your pardon. That was just as rude in me as if you had calledMr. Lincoln 'Abe. '" She now burst out laughing. "Heaven knows we do it often enough, "she said. "I was aware of that. " "This won't do at all, " she resumed. "Your hand is growing alittle feverish, and if my visits do not make you better I shallnot come. I think we have defined our differences sufficiently. Youmust not 'reverence' me any more. I couldn't stand that at all. Iwill concede at once that you are a gentleman, and that this lovelygirl is my equal; and when our soldiers have whipped your armies, and we are free, I shall be magnanimous, and invite you to bringthis girl here to visit us on your wedding trip. What is her name?" "Marian Vosburgh. But I fear she will never take a wedding trip withme. If she did I would accept your invitation gratefully after wehad convinced the South that one flag must protect us all. " "We won't talk any more about that. Why won't Miss Vosburgh takea wedding trip with you?" "For the best of reasons, --she doesn't love me well enough. " "Stupid! Perhaps she loves some one else?" "No, I don't think so. She is as true a friend as a woman can beto a man, but there it ends. " "With her. " "Certainly, with her only. She knows that I would do all that aman can to win her. " "You are frank. " "Why should I not be with one I trust so absolutely? You think usNorthmen cold, underhanded. I do not intend virtually to take mylife back from your hands, and at the same time to keep that lifealoof from you as if you had nothing to do with it. If I survivethe war, whichever way it turns, I shall always cherish your memoryas one of my ideals, and shall feel honored indeed if I can retainyour friendship. To make and keep such friends is to enrich one'slife. Should I see Miss Vosburgh again I shall tell her about you, just as I have told you about her. " "You were born on the wrong side of the line, Captain Lane. Youare a Southerner at heart. " "Oh, nonsense! Wait till you visit us at the North. You will findpeople to your mind on both sides of the line. When my mother andsisters have learned how you have treated me and my men they willwelcome you with open arms. " She looked at him earnestly a moment, and then said: "You make mefeel as if the North and South did not understand each other. " Thenshe added, sadly: "The war is not over. Alas! how much may happenbefore it is. My gray-haired father and gallant brothers are marchingwith Lee, and while I pray for them night and morning, and oftenthrough the day, I fear--I FEAR inexpressibly, --all the more, nowthat I have seen Northern soldiers fight. God only knows what isin store for us all. Do not think that because I seem light-heartedI am not conscious of living on the eve of a tragedy all the time. Tears and laughter are near together in my nature. I can't helpit; I was so made. " "Heaven keep you and yours in safety, " said Lane, earnestly; andshe saw that his eyes were moist with feeling. "This won't answer, " she again declared, hastily. "We must have nomore such exciting talks. Shall I read to you a little while, orgo at once?" "Read to me, by all means, if I am not selfishly keeping you toolong. Your talk has done me good rather than harm, for you are sovital yourself that you seem to give me a part of your life andstrength. I believe I should have died under the old dull monotony. " "I usually read the Bible to your men, " she said, half humorously, half questioningly. "Read it to me. I like to think we have the same faith. That bookis the pledge that all differences will pass away from the sincere. " He looked at her wonderingly as she read, in her sweet, girlishvoice, the sacred words familiar since his childhood; and when sherose and said, "This must do for to-day, " his face was eloquentwith his gratitude. He again reached out his hand, and said, gently, "Miss Suwanee, Heaven keep you and yours from all harm. " "Don't talk to me that way, " she said, brusquely. "After all, weare enemies, you know. " "If you can so bless your enemies, what must be the experience ofyour friends, one of whom I intend to be?" "Roberta must read to you, in order to teach you that the Southcannot be taken by storm. " "I should welcome Miss Roberta cordially. We also shall be goodfriends some day. " "We must get you well and pack you off North, or there's no tellingwhat may happen, " she said, with a little tragic gesture. "Good-by. " This was the beginning of many talks, though no other was of sopersonal a nature. They felt that they understood each other, thatthere was no concealment to create distrust. She artlessly andunconsciously revealed to him her life and its inspirations, and soonproved that her mind was as active as her hands. She discovered thatLane had mines of information at command, and she plied him withquestions about the North, Europe, and such parts of the East ashe had visited. Her father's library was well stored with standardworks, and she made him describe the scenes suggested by herfavorite poets. Life was acquiring for her a zest which it had neverpossessed before, and one day she said to him, abruptly, "How youhave broadened my horizon!" He also improved visibly in her vivacious society, and at lastwas able to come down to his meals and sit on the piazza. Mrs. Barkdale's and Roberta's reserve thawed before his genial courtesy, and all the more readily since a letter had been received fromColonel Barkdale containing thanks to Lane for the considerationthat had been shown to his family, and assuring his wife thatthe Barkdale mansion must not fail in hospitality either to loyalfriends or to worthy foes. Roberta was won over more completely than she had believed to bepossible. Her proud, high spirit was pleased with the fact that, while Lane abated not one jot of his well-defined loyalty to theNorth and its aims, he also treated her with respect and evidentadmiration in her fearless assertion of her views. She also recognizedhis admirable tact in preventing their talk from verging towards atoo-earnest discussion of their differences. Suwanee was delightedas she saw him disarm her relatives, and was the life of their socialhours. She never wearied in delicately chaffing and bewilderingthe good-natured but rather matter-of-fact Surgeon McAllister, andit often cost Lane much effort to keep from exploding in laughteras he saw the perplexed and worried expression of his friend. Butbefore the meal was over she would always reassure her slow-wittedguest by some unexpected burst of sunshine, and he afterwards wouldremark, in confidence: "I say, Lane, that little 'Missy S'wanee'out-generals a fellow every time. She attacks rear, flank, andfront, all at once, and then she takes your sword in such a winsomeway that you are rather glad to surrender. " "Take care, McAllister, --take care, or you may surrender more thanyour sword. " "I think you are in the greater danger. " "Oh, no, I'm forearmed, and Miss Suwanee and I understand eachother. " But he did not understand her, nor did she comprehend herself. Herconversation seemed as open, and often as bright as her Southernsunshine, and his mind was cheered and delighted with it. He didnot disguise his frank, cordial regard for her, even before hermother and sister, but it was ever blended with such a sincererespect that she was touched and surprised by it, and they werereassured. She had told them of the place possessed by Marian inhis thoughts, and this fact, with his manner, promised immunityfrom all tendencies towards sentiment. Indeed, that Suwanee shouldbestow anything more upon the Northern officer than kindness, acertain chivalric hospitality, and some admiration, was among theimpossibilities in their minds. This, at the time, seemed equally true to the young girl herself. Not in the least was she on her guard. Her keen enjoyment of hissociety awakened no suspicions, for she enjoyed everything keenly. His persistence in treating her, in spite of all her nonsense andfrolicsomeness, as if she were worthy of the deepest respect andhonor which manhood can pay to womanhood, ever remained a bewilderingtruth, and touched the deepest chords in her nature. Sometimeswhen they sat in the light of the young moon on the veranda sherevealed thoughts which surprised him, and herself even more. Itappeared to her as if a new and deeper life were awakening in herheart, full of vague beauty and mystery. She almost believed thatshe was becoming good, as he imagined. Why otherwise should shebe so strangely happy and spiritually exalted? He was developingin her a new self-respect. She now knew that he was familiar withstandards of comparison at the North of which she need not beashamed. Even her mother and sister had remarked, in effect, "It isevident that Captain Lane has been accustomed to the best society. "His esteem was not the gaping admiration of a boor to whom she hadbeen a revelation. "No, " she said, "he is a revelation to me. I thought my littleprejudices were the boundaries of the world. He, who has seen theworld, walks right over my prejudices as if they were nothing, andmakes me feel that I am his friend and equal, because he fancies Ipossess a true, noble womanhood; and now I mean to possess it. Hehas made his ideal of me seem worthy and beautiful, and it shallbe my life effort to attain it. He doesn't think me a barbarianbecause I am a rebel and believe in slavery. He has said that hismother and sisters would receive me with open arms. It seems to methat I have grown years older and wiser during the last few weeks. " She did not know that her vivid, tropical nature was responding tothe influence which is mightiest even in colder climes. CHAPTER XL. LOVE'S TRIUMPH. THE month of June was drawing to a close. Captain Lane, his surgeon, and a little company of wounded men, equally with the Confederates, were only apparently forgotten. They were all watched, and theirprogress towards health was noted. Any attempt at escape would havebeen checked at once. The majority of the Federal soldiers couldnow walk about slowly, and were gaining rapidly. Although they werenot aware of the fact, the Confederate wounded, who had progressedequally far in convalescence, were their guards, and the residentsof the neighborhood were allies in watchfulness. The Southernerswere only awaiting the time, near at hand, when they could proceedto Richmond with their prisoners. This purpose indicated no deephostility on the part of the rebels. Companionship in sufferinghad banished this feeling. A sergeant among their number had becometheir natural leader, and he was in communication with guerillaofficers and other more regular authorities. They had deemed itbest to let events take their course for a time. Lee's northwardadvance absorbed general attention, although little as yet wasknown about it on that remote plantation. The Union men were beinghealed and fed at no cost to the Confederates, and could be takenaway at the time when their removal could be accomplished with theleast trouble. Lane himself was the chief cause of delay. He was doing well, but his wound was of a peculiar nature, and any great exertion orexposure might yet cause fatal results. This fact had become knownto the rebel sergeant, and since the captain was the principalprize, and they were all very comfortable, he had advised delay. It had been thought best not to inform the family as to the stateof affairs, lest it should in some way become known to Lane andthe surgeon, and lead to attempted escape. The Barkdales, moreover, were high-strung people, and might entertain some chivalric ideasabout turning over their guests to captivity. "They might have a ridiculous woman's notion about the matter, "said one of these secret advisers. Lane and McAllister, however, were becoming exceedingly solicitousconcerning the future. The former did not base much hope on Suwanee'sevident expectation that when he was well enough he would go tohis friends as a matter of course. He knew that he and his men werein the enemy's hands, and that they would naturally be regardedas captives. He had a horror of going to a Southern prison and ofenduring weeks and perhaps months of useless inactivity. He andMcAllister began to hold whispered consultations. His mind revoltedat the thought of leaving his men, and of departing stealthily fromthe family that had been so kind. And yet if they were all taken toRichmond he would be separated from the men, and could do nothingfor them. Matter-of-fact McAllister had no doubts or scruples. "Of course we should escape at once if your wound justified theattempt" On the 29th of June Lane and the surgeon walked some littledistance from the house, and became satisfied that they were underthe surveillance of the rebel sergeant and his men. This fact sotroubled Lane that Suwanee noticed his abstraction and asked himin the evening what was worrying him. The moonlight fell full onher lovely, sympathetic face. "Miss Suwanee, " he said, gravely, "I've been your guest about amonth. Are you not tired of me yet?" "That's a roundabout way of saying you are tired of us. " "I beg your pardon: it is not. But, in all sincerity, I should begetting back to duty, were it possible. " "Your wound is not sufficiently healed, " she said, earnestly, wonderingat the chill of fear that his words had caused. "The surgeon saysit is not. " "Don't you know?" he whispered. "Know what?" she almost gasped. "That I'm a prisoner. " She sprung to her feet and was about to utter some passionateexclamation; but he said, hastily, "Oh, hush, or I'm lost. I believethat eyes are upon me all the time. " "Heigho!" she exclaimed, walking to the edge of the veranda, "Iwish I knew what General Lee was doing. We are expecting to hearof another great battle every day;" and she swept the vicinity witha seemingly careless glance, detecting a dark outline behind someshrubbery not far away. Instantly she sprung down the steps andconfronted the rebel sergeant. "What are you doing here?" she asked, indignantly. "My duty, " was the stolid reply. "Find duty elsewhere then, " she said, haughtily. The man slunk away, and she returned to Lane, who remarked, significantly, "Now you understand me. " It was evident that she was deeply excited, and immediately she beganto speak in a voice that trembled with anger and other emotions. "This is terrible. I had not thought--indeed it cannot be. My fatherwould not permit it. The laws of war would apply, I suppose, toyour enlisted men, but that you and Surgeon McAllister, who havebeen our guests and have sat at our table, should be taken from ourhospitality into captivity is monstrous. In permitting it, I seemto share in a mean, dishonorable thing. " "How characteristic your words and actions are!" said Lane, gently. "It would be easy to calculate your orbit. I fear you cannot helpyourself. You forget, too, that I was the means of sending to prisoneven your Major Denham. " "Major Denham is nothing--" she began, impetuously, then hesitated, and he saw the rich color mantling her face even in the moonlight. After a second or two she added: "Our officers were captured infair fight. That is very different from taking a wounded man anda guest. " "Not a guest in the ordinary sense of the word. You see I canbe fair to your people, unspeakably as I dread captivity. It willnot be so hard for McAllister, for surgeons are not treated likeordinary prisoners. His remaining, however, was a brave, unselfishact;" and Lane spoke in tones of deep regret. "It must not be, " she said, sternly. "Miss Suwanee, "--and his voice was scarcely audible, --"do you thinkwe can be overheard?" "No, " she replied, in like tones. "Roberta and mamma are incapableof listening. " "I was not thinking of them. I must speak quickly. I don't wish toinvolve you, but the surgeon and I must try to escape, for I wouldalmost rather die than be taken prisoner. Deep as is my longingfor liberty I could not leave you without a word, and my trust inthe chivalric feeling that you have just evinced is so deep as toconvince me that I can speak to you safely. I shall not tell youanything to compromise you. You have only to be blind and deaf ifyou see or hear anything. " Her tears were now falling fast, but she did not move, lest observanteyes should detect her emotion. "Heaven bless your good, kind heart!" he continued, in a low, earnesttone. "Whether I live or die, I wish you to know that your memorywill ever be sacred to me, like that of my mother and one other. Be assured that the life you have done so much to save is alwaysat your command. Whenever I can serve you or yours you can counton all that I am or can do. Suwanee, I shall be a better man forhaving known you. You don't half appreciate yourself, and everysucceeding day has only proved how true my first impressions were. " She did not answer, and he felt that it would be dangerous toprolong the interview. They entered the house together. As theywent up the stairs she pressed her handkerchief to her eyes, hewondering at her silence and emotion. At the landing in the duskyhall-way he raised her hand to his lips. There was not a trace of gallantry in the act, and she knew it. Itwas only the crowning token of that recognition at which she hadwondered from the first. She realized that it was only the homageof a knightly man and the final expression of his gratitude; butit overwhelmed her, and she longed to escape with the terriblerevelation which had come to her at last. She could not repress alow sob, and, giving his hand a quick, strong pressure, she fledto her room. "Can it be possible?" he thought. "Oh! if I have wounded that heart, however unintentionally, I shall never forgive myself. " "Lane, " whispered McAllister, when the former entered his room, "there are guards about the house. " "I'm not surprised, " was the despondent reply. "We are prisoners. " "Does the family know it?" He told him how Suwanee had detected the espionage of the rebelsergeant. "Wouldn't she help us?" "I shall not ask her to. I shall not compromise her with her people. " "No, by thunder! I'd rather spend my life in prison than harm her. What shall we do?" "We must put our light out soon, and take turns in watching forthe slightest opportunity. You lie down first. I do not feel sleepy. " After making some slight preparations the doctor slept, and it waswell on towards morning before Lane's crowding thoughts permittedhim to seek repose. He then wakened McAllister and said, "There hasbeen a stealthy relief of guards thus far, and I've seen no chancewhatever. " The doctor was equally satisfied that any attempt to escape wouldbe fruitless. Suwanee's vigil that night was bitter and terrible, indeed. Herproud, passionate nature writhed under the truth that she had givenher heart, unsought, to a Northern officer, --to one who had fromthe first made it clear that his love had been bestowed on another. She felt that she could not blame him. His frankness had been almostequal to that of her own brothers, and he had satisfied her thatthey could scarcely be more loyal to her than he would be. She coulddetect no flaw in his bearing towards her. He had not disguisedhis admiration, his abundant enjoyment of her society, but allexpression of his regard had been tinged with respect and gratituderather than gallantry. He perhaps had thought that her knowledgeof his attitude towards Miss Vosburgh was an ample safeguard, ifany were needed. Alas! it had been the chief cause of her fatalblindness. She had not dreamed of danger for him or herself intheir companionship. Nothing was clearer than that he expected andwished no such result. It was well for Lane that this was true, for she would have been a dangerous girl to trifle with. But she recognized the truth. Before, love had been to her a thingof poetry, romance, and dreams. Now it was a terrible reality. Her heart craved with intense longing what she felt it could neverpossess. At last, wearied and exhausted by her deep emotion, she sighed:"Perhaps it is better as it is. Even if he had been a lover, thebloody chasm of war would have separated us, but it seems cruel thatGod should permit such an overwhelming misfortune to come upon anunsuspecting, inexperienced girl. Why was I so made that I could, unconsciously, give my very soul to this stranger? yet he is not astranger. Events have made me better acquainted with him than withany other man. I know that he has kept no secrets from me. Therewas nothing to conceal. All has been simple, straightforward, andhonorable. It is to the man himself, in his crystal integrity, thatmy heart has bowed, and then--that was his chief power--he mademe feel that I was not unworthy. He taught me to respect my ownnature, and to aspire to all that was good and true. "After all, perhaps I am condemning myself too harshly, --perhapsthe truth that my heart acknowledged such a man as master is proofthat his estimate of me is not wholly wrong. Were there not somekinship of spirit between us, this could not be; but the secretmust remain between me and God. " Lane, tormented by the fear suggested by Suwanee's manner on theprevious evening, dreaded to meet her again, but at first he wasreassured. Never had she been more brilliant and frolicsome than atthe breakfast-table that morning. Never had poor McAllister beenmore at his wits' end to know how to reply to her bewilderingsallies of good-natured badinage. Every vulnerable point of Northerncharacter received her delicate satire. Lane himself did not escapeher light shafts. He made no defence, but smiled or laughed atevery palpable hit. The girl's pallor troubled him, and somethingin her eyes that suggested suffering. There came a time when hecould scarcely think of that day without tears, believing that nosoldier on either side ever displayed more heroism than did thewounded girl. He and the surgeon walked out again, and saw that they were watched. He found that his men had become aware of the truth and had submittedto the inevitable. They were far from the Union lines, and notstrong enough to attempt an escape through a hostile country. Lanevirtually gave up, and began to feel that the best course would beto submit quietly and look forward to a speedy exchange. He longedfor a few more hours with Suwanee, but imagined that she avoidedhim. There was no abatement of her cordiality, but she appearedpreoccupied. After dinner a Confederate officer called and asked for MissRoberta, who, after the interview, returned to her mother's roomwith a troubled expression. Suwanee was there, calmly plying herneedle. She knew what the call meant. "I suppose it's all right, and that we can't help ourselves, "Roberta began, "but it annoys me nevertheless. Lieutenant Macklin, who has just left, has said that our own men and the Union soldiersare now well enough to be taken to Richmond, and that he will startwith them to-morrow morning. Of course I have no regrets respectingthe enlisted men, and am glad they are going, for they are provinga heavy burden to us; but my feelings revolt at the thought thatCaptain Lane and the surgeon should be taken to prison from ourhome. " "I don't wonder, " said Suwanee, indignantly; "but then what's theuse? we can't help ourselves. I suppose it is the law of war. " "Well, I'm glad you are so sensible about it. I feared you wouldfeel a hundred-fold worse than I, you and the captain have becomesuch good friends. Indeed, I have even imagined that he was indanger of becoming something more. I caught him looking at you atdinner as if you were a saint 'whom infidels might adore. ' His homageto our flirtatious little Suwanee has been a rich joke from thefirst. I suppose, however, there may have been a vein of calculationin it all, for I don't think any Yankee--" "Hush, " said Suwanee, hotly; "Captain Lane is still our guest, and he is above calculation. I shall not permit him to be insultedbecause he has over-estimated me. " "Why, Suwanee, I did not mean to insult him. You have transfixedhim with a dozen shafts of satire to-day, and as for poor SurgeonMcAllister--" "That was to their faces, " interrupted Suwanee, hastily. "Suwanee is right, " said Mrs. Barkdale, smiling. "Captain Lane hashad the sense to see that my little girl is good-hearted in spiteof her nonsense. " The girl's lip was quivering but she concealed the fact by savagelybiting off her thread, and then was impassive again. "I sincerely regret with you both, " resumed their mother, "thatthese two gentlemen must go from our home to prison, especiallyso since receiving a letter from Captain Lane, couched in terms ofthe strongest respect and courtesy, and enclosing a hundred dollarsin Northern money as a slight compensation--so he phrased it--forwhat had been done for his men. Of course he meant to includehimself and the surgeon, but had too much delicacy to mention thefact. He also stated that he would have sent more, but that it wasnearly all they had. " "You did not keep the money!" exclaimed the two girls in the samebreath. "I do not intend to keep it, " said the lady, quietly, "and shallhand it back to him with suitable acknowledgments. I only mentionthe fact to convince Roberta that Captain Lane is not the typicalYankee, and we have much reason to be thankful that men of a differentstamp were not quartered upon us. And yet, " continued the matron, with a deep sigh, "you little know how sorely we need the money. Your father's and brothers' pay is losing its purchasing power. The people about here all profess to be very hot for the South, but when you come to buy anything from them what they call 'Linkummoney' goes ten times as far. We have never known anything butprofusion, but now we are on the verge of poverty. " "Oh, well, " said Suwanee, recklessly, "starving isn't the worstthing that could happen. " "Alas! my child, you can't realize what poverty means. Your heartis as free from care as the birds around us, and, like them, youthink you will be provided for. " The girl sprung up with a ringing laugh, and kissed her mother asshe exclaimed, "I'll cut off my hair, put on one of brother Bob'sold suits, and enlist;" and then she left the room. At supper there was a constraint on all except Suwanee. Mrs. Barkdaleand Roberta felt themselves to be in an embarrassing position. Themen at the table, who had been guests so long, would be marchedaway as prisoners from their door in the morning. The usages ofwar could not satisfy their womanly and chivalric natures, or makethem forget the courtesy and respect which, in spite of prejudices, had won so much good-will. Lane scarcely sought to disguise hisperplexity and distress. Honest Surgeon McAllister, who knew thatthey all had been an awful burden, was as troubled as some menare pleased when they get much for nothing. Suwanee appeared ina somewhat new role. She was the personification of dignity andcourtesy. She acted as if she knew all and was aware that theirguests did. Therefore levity would be in bad taste, and their onlyresource was the good breeding which ignores the disagreeable andthe inevitable. Her mother looked on her with pride, and wonderedat so fine an exibition of tact. She did not know that the poorgirl had a new teacher, and that she was like an inexorable generalwho, in a desperate fight, summons all his reserve and puts forthevery effort of mind and body. Lane had not found a chance to say one word to Suwanee in privateduring the day, but after supper she went to the piano and beganto play some Southern airs with variations of her own improvising. He immediately joined her and said, "We shall not attempt to escape;we are too closely watched. " She did not reply. "Miss Suwanee, " he began again, and distress and sorrow were in histones, "I hardly know how to speak to you of what troubles me morethan the thought of captivity. How can I manage with such proud, chivalric women as you and your mother and sister? But I am notblind, nor can I ignore the prosaic conditions of our lot. I respectyour pride; but have a little mercy on mine, --nay, let me call itbare self-respect. We have caused you the loss of your laborers, your fields are bare, and you have emptied your larder in feedingmy men, yet your mother will not take even partial compensation. You can't realize how troubled I am. " "You, like ourselves, must submit to the fortunes of war, " shereplied, with a sudden gleam of her old mirthfulness. "A bodily wound would be a trifle compared with this, " he resumed, earnestly. "O Miss Suwanee, have I won no rights as a friend?rather, let me ask, will you not generously give me some rights?" "Yes, Captain Lane, " she said, gently, "I regard you as a friend, and I honor you as a true man. Though the war should go on foreverI should not change in these respects unless you keep harping onthis financial question. " "Friends frankly accept gifts from friends; let it be a giftthen, by the aid of which you can keep your mother from privation. Suwanee, Suwanee, why do you refuse to take this dross from me whenI would give my heart's blood to shield you from harm?" "You are talking wildly, Captain Lane, " she said, with a laugh. "Your heart belongs to Miss Vosburgh, and therefore all its blood. " "She would be the first to demand and expect that I should risk alland give all for one to whom I owe so much and who is so deserving. " "I require of her no such sacrifice, " Suwanee replied, coldly, "norof you either, Captain Lane. Unforeseen circumstances have thrownus together for a time. We have exchanged all that is possiblebetween those so divided, --esteem and friendship. If my fatherthinks it best he will obtain compensation from our government. Perhaps, in happier times, we may meet again, " she added, her toneand manner becoming gentle once more; "and then I hope you willfind me a little more like what you have thought me to be. " "God grant that we may meet again. There, I can't trust myselfto speak to you any more. Your unaffected blending of humilityand pride with rare, unconscious nobility touches my very soul. Our leave-taking in the morning must be formal. Good-by, SuwaneeBarkdale. As sure as there is a God of justice your life will befilled full with happiness. " Instead of taking his proffered hand, she trembled, turned to thepiano, and said hastily between the notes she played: "Controlyourself and listen. We may be observed. You and the surgeon beready to open your door and follow me at any time to-night. Hangyour sword where it may be seen through the open window. I havecontrived a chance--a bare chance--of your escape. Bow and retire. " He did so. She bent her head in a courtly manner towards him, andthen went on with her playing of Southern airs. A moment later the rebel sergeant disappeared from some shrubberya little beyond the parlor window, and chuckled, "The Yankee captainhas found out that he can't make either an ally or a sweetheartout of a Southern girl; but I suspicioned her a little last night. " At two o'clock that night there was an almost imperceptible tapat Lane's door. He opened it noiselessly, and saw Suwanee with herfinger on her lips. "Carry your shoes in your hands, " she said, and then led the waydown the stairs to the parlor window. Again she whispered: "Theguard here is bribed, --bribed by kindness. He says I saved his lifewhen he was wounded. Steal through the shrubbery to the creek-road;continue down that, and you'll find a guide. Not a word. Good-by. " She gave her hand to the surgeon, whose honest eyes were moist withfeeling, and then he dropped lightly to the ground. "Suwanee, " began Lane. "Hush! Go. " Again he raised her hand to his lips, again heard that same low, involuntary sob that had smote his heart the preceding night; andthen followed the surgeon. The guard stood out in the garden withhis back towards them, as, like shadows, they glided away. On the creek-road the old colored man who worked in the gardenjoined them, and led the way rapidly to the creek, where under somebushes a skiff with oars was moored. Lane slipped twenty dollars intothe old man's hand, and then he and his companion pushed out intothe sluggish current, and the surgeon took the oars and pulledquietly through the shadows of the overhanging foliage. The continuedquiet proved that their escape had not been discovered. Food hadbeen placed in the boat. The stream led towards the Potomac. Withthe dawn they concealed themselves, and slept during the day, travellingall the following night. The next day they were so fortunate asto fall in with a Union scouting party, and so eventually reachedWashington; but the effort in riding produced serious symptoms inLane's wound, and he was again doomed to quiet weeks of convalescence, as has already been intimated to the reader. When Mrs. Barkdale and Roberta came down the next morning theyfound Suwanee in the breakfast room, fuming with apparent irritability. "Here is that Lieutenant Macklin again, " she said, "and he is veryimpatient, saying that his orders are imperative, and that he isneeded on some special duty. His orders are to convey the prisonersto the nearest railroad station, and then report for some activeservice. From all I can gather it is feared that the Yankees proposean attack on Richmond, now that General Lee is away. " "It's strange that Captain Lane and the surgeon don't come down, "Roberta remarked. "I truly wish, however, that we had not to meetthem again. " "Well, since it must be, the sooner the ordeal is over the better, "said Suwanee, with increasing irritation. "Captain Lane has senseenough to know that we are not responsible for his being takenaway. " "Hildy, " said Mrs. Barkdale, "go up and tell the gentlemen thatbreakfast is ready. " In a few moments the old woman returned in a fluster and said, "Iknock on de doah, and dey ain't no answer. " "What!" exclaimed Suwanee, in the accents of surprise; then, sharply, "go and knock louder, and wake them up, " adding, "it's very strange. " Hildy came back with a scared look, and said, "I knock and knock;den I open de doah, and der' ain't no one dere. " "They must be out in the grounds for a walk, " exclaimed Roberta. "Haven't you seen them this morning?" "I ain't seen nuffin' nor heard nuffin', " protested the old woman. "Girls, this is serious, " said Mrs. Barkdale, rising; and shesummoned Lieutenant Macklin, who belonged to a class not receivedsocially by the family. "We have but this moment discovered, " said the lady, "that CaptainLane and Surgeon McAllister are not in their room. Therefore wesuppose they are walking in the grounds. Will you please informthem that breakfast is waiting?" "Pardon me, madam, they cannot be outside, or I should have beeninformed. " "Then you must search for them, sir. The house, grounds, andbuildings are open to you. " The fact of the prisoners' escape soon became evident, and therewere haste, confusion, and running to and fro to no purpose. Suwaneeimitated Roberta so closely that she was not suspected. LieutenantMacklin and the rebel sergeant at last returned, giving evidenceof strong vexation. "We don't understand this, " began the lieutenant. "Neither do we, " interrupted Mrs. Barkdale, so haughtily that theywere abashed, although they directed keen glances towards Suwanee, who met their scrutiny unflinchingly. The Barkdales were not people to be offended with impunity, and thelieutenant knew it. He added, apologetically: "You know I must domy duty, madam. I fear some of your servants are implicated, orthat guards have been tampered with. " "You are at liberty to examine any one you please. " They might as well have examined a carved, wrinkled effigy as oldCuffy, Lane's midnight guide. "I don' know nuffin' 'tall 'bout it, "he declared. "My ole woman kin tell yo' dat I went to bed when shedid and got up when she did. " The guard, bought with kindness, was as dense in his ignorance asany of the others. At last Macklin declared that he would have toput citizens on the hunt, for his orders admitted of no delay. The Union prisoners, together with the Confederates, when formedin line, gave a ringing cheer for "Missy S'wanee and the ladies, "and then the old mansion was left in more than its former isolation, and, as the younger girl felt, desolation. She attended to her duties as usual, and then went to her piano. The words spoken the previous evening would ever make the placedear to her. While she was there old Hildy crept in, with her feeblestep, and whispered, "I foun' dis un'er Cap'n Lane's piller. " It was but a scrap of paper, unaddressed; but Suwanee understoodits significance. It contained these words: "I can never repay you, but to discover some coin which a nature like yours can accept hasbecome one of my supreme ambitions. If I live, we shall meet again. " Those words formed a glimmering hope which grew fainter and fainterin the dark years which followed. She did not have to mask her trouble very long, for another sorrowcame like an avalanche. Close to the Union lines, on Cemetery Ridge, lay a white-haired colonel and his two tall sons. They were amongthe heroes in Pickett's final charge, on the 3d of July. "MissyS'wanee" laughed no more, even in self-defence. CHAPTER XLI. SUNDAY'S LULL AND MONDAY'S STORM. SUNDAY, the 12th of July, proved a long, restful sabbath to Marianand her father, and they spent most of its hours together. Thegreat tension and strain of the past weeks appeared to be over fora time. The magnificent Union victories had brought gladness andhopefulness to Mr. Vosburgh, and the return of her friends hadrelieved his daughter's mind. He now thought he saw the end clearly. He believed that hereafter the tide of rebellion would ebb southwarduntil all the land should be free. "This day has been a godsend to us both, " he said to Marian, asthey sat together in the library before retiring. "The draft hasbegun quietly, and no disturbances have followed. I scarcely rememberan evening when the murmur of the city was so faint and suggestiveof repose. I think we can both go to the country soon, withminds comparatively at rest. I must admit that I expected no suchexperience as has blessed us to-day. We needed it. Not until thisrespite came did I realize how exhausted from labor and especiallyanxiety I had become. You, too, my little girl, are not the bloominglassie you were a year ago. " "Yet I think I'm stronger in some respects, papa. " "Yes, in many respects. Thank God for the past year. Your sympathyand companionship have made it a new era in my life. You haveinfluenced other lives, also, as events have amply proved. Areyou not satisfied now that you can be unconventional without beingqueer? You have not been a colorless reflection of some socialset; neither have you left your home for some startling publiccareer; and yet you have achieved the distinct individuality whichtruthfulness to nature imparts. You have simply been developingyour better self naturally, and you have helped fine fellows tomake the best of themselves. " "Your encouragement is very sweet, papa. I'm not complacent overmyself, however; and I've failed so signally in one instance thatI'm vexed and almost saddened. You know what I mean. " "Yes, I know, " with a slight laugh. "Merwyn is still your unsolvedproblem, and he worries you. " "Not because he is unsolved, but rather that the solution has provedso disappointing and unexpected. He baffles me with a trait whichI recognize, but can't understand, and only admit in wonder andangry protest. Indeed, from the beginning of our acquaintance hehas reversed my usual experiences. His first approaches incensedme beyond measure, --all the more, I suppose, because I saw inhim an odious reflection of my old spirit. But, papa, when to hiscondescending offer I answered from the full bitterness of my heart, he looked and acted as if I had struck him with a knife. " Her father again laughed, as he said: "You truly used heroic surgery, and to excellent purpose. Has he shown any conceit, complacency, or patronizing airs since?" "No, I admit that, at least. " "In destroying some of his meaner traits by one keen thrust, youdid him a world of good. Of course he suffered under such a surgicaloperation, but he has had better moral health ever since. " "Oh, yes, " she burst out, "he has become an eminently respectableand patriotic millionnaire, giving of his abundance to save thenation's life, living in a palace meanwhile. What did he mean byhis passionate words, 'I shall measure everything hereafter by thebreadth of your woman's soul'? What have the words amounted to? Youknow, papa, that nothing but my duty and devotion to you keeps mefrom taking an active part in this struggle, even though a woman. Indeed, the feeling is growing upon me that I must spend partof my time in some hospital. A woman can't help having an intenseconviction of what she would do were she a man, and you know whatI would have done, and he knows it also. Therefore he has not kepthis word, for he fails at the vital point in reaching my standard. I have no right to judge men in Mr. Merwyn's position becausethey do not go to the front. Let them do what they think wise andprudent; let them also keep among their own kind. I protest againsttheir coming to me for what I give to friends who have alreadyproved themselves heroes. But there, I forgot. He looks so like aman that I can't help thinking that he is one, --that he could comeup to my standard if he chose to. He still seeks me--" "No, he has not been here since he heard Blauvelt's story. " "He passed the house once, hesitated, and did not enter. Papa, he has not changed, and you know it. He has plainly asked for agift only second to what I can give to God. With a tenacity whichnothing but his will can account for, perhaps, he seeks it still. Do you think his distant manner deceives me for a moment? Nor hasmy coldness any influence on him. Yet it has not been the coldnessof indifference, and he knows that too. He has seen and felt, likesword-thrusts, my indignation, my contempt. He has said to my face, 'You think me a coward. ' He is no fool, and has fully comprehendedthe situation. If he had virtually admitted, 'I am a coward, andtherefore can have no place among the friends who are surpassing yourideal of manly heroism, ' and withdrawn to those to whom a millionis more than all heroism, the affair would have ended naturallylong ago. But he persists in bringing me a daily sense of failureand humiliation. He says: 'My regard for you is so great I can'tgive you up, yet not so great as to lead me to do what hundredsof thousands are doing. I can't face danger for your sake. ' I havetried to make the utmost allowance for his constitutional weakness, yet it has humiliated me that I had not the power to enable himto overcome so strange a failing. Why, I could face death for you, and he can't stand beside one whom he used to sneer at as 'littleStrahan. ' Yet, such is his idea of my woman's soul that he stillgives me his thoughts and therefore his hopes;" and she almoststamped her foot in her irritation. "Would you truly give your life for me?" he asked, gently. "Yes, I know I could, and would were there necessity; not in callousdisregard of danger, but because the greater emotion swallows upthe less. Faulty as I am, there would be no bargainings and prudentreservations in my love. These are not the times for half-way people. Oh think, papa, while we are here in the midst of every comfort, how many thousands of mutilated, horribly wounded men are dying inagony throughout the South! My heart goes out to them in a sympathyand homage I can't express. Think how Lane and even Strahan may besuffering to-night, with so much done for them, and then rememberthe prisoners of war and the poor unknown enlisted men, oftenterribly neglected, I fear. Papa, won't you let me go as a nurse?The ache would go out of my own heart if I tried to reduce this awfulsum of anguish a little. He whose word and touch always banishedpain and disease would surely shield me in such labors. As soonas danger no longer threatens you, won't you let me do a little, although I am only a girl?" "Yes, Marian, " her father replied, gravely; "far be it from me torepress such heaven-born impulses. You are now attaining the highestrank reached by humanity. All the avenues of earthly distinctioncannot lead beyond the spirit of self-sacrifice for others. Thisplaces you near the Divine Man, and all grow mean and plebeian to thedegree that they recede from him. You see what comes of developingyour better nature. Selfishness and its twin, cowardice, are crowdedout. " "Please don't praise me any more. I can't stand it, " faltered thegirl, tearfully. A moment later her laugh rang out. "Hurrah!" shecried, "since Mr. Merwyn won't go to the war, I'm going myself. " "To make more wounds than you will heal, " her father added. "Remember the circumstances under which you go will have to receivevery careful consideration, and I shall have to know all about thematron and nurses with whom you act. Your mother will be horrified, and so will not a few of your acquaintances. Flirting in shadowsis proper enough, but helping wounded soldiers to live--But weunderstand each other, and I can trust you now. " The next morning father and daughter parted with few misgivings, and the latter promised to go to her mother in a day or two, Mr. Vosburgh adding that if the week passed quietly he could join themon Saturday evening. So they quietly exchanged their good-by kiss on the edge of avolcano already in eruption. An early horseback ride in Central Park had become one of Merwyn'shabits of late. At that hour he met comparatively few abroad, andthe desire for solitude was growing upon him. Like Mr. Vosburgh, he had watched with solicitude the beginning of the draft, feelingthat if it passed quietly his only remaining chance would be towring from his mother some form of release from his oath. Indeed, so unhappy and desperate was he becoming that he had thoughtof revealing everything to Mr. Vosburgh. The government officer, however, might feel it his duty to use the knowledge, should therecome a time when the authorities proceeded against the propertyof the disloyal. Moreover, the young man felt that it would bedishonorable to reveal the secret. Beyond his loyal impulses he now had little motive for effort. Marian's prejudices against him had become too deeply rooted, andher woman's honor for the knightly men her friends had proved toocontrolling a principle, ever to give him a chance for anythingbetter than polite tolerance. He had discovered what this meantso fully, and in Blauvelt's story had been shown the inevitablecontrast which she must draw so vividly, that he had decided:-- "No more of Marian Vosburgh's society until all is changed. Thereforeno more forever, probably. If my mother proves as obdurate as aSouthern jailer, I suppose I'm held, although I begin to think Ihave as good cause to break my chains as any other Union man. Shetricked me into captivity, and holds me remorselessly, --not like amother. Miss Vosburgh did show she had a woman's heart, and wouldhave given me her hand in friendship had I not been compelled tomake her believe that I was a coward. If in some way I can escapemy oath, and my reckless courage at the front proves her mistaken, I may return to her. Otherwise it is a useless humiliation and painto see her any more. " Such had been the nature of his musings throughout the long Sundaywhose quiet had led to the belief that the draft would scarcely createa ripple of overt hostility. During his ride on Monday morning henearly concluded to go to his country place again. He was growingnervous and restless, and he longed for the steadying influenceof his mountain rambles before meeting his mother and decidingquestions which would involve all their future relations. As with bowed head, lost in thought, he approached the city byone of the park entrances, he heard a deep, angry murmur, as ifa storm-vexed tide was coming in. Spurring his horse forward, hesoon discovered, with a feeling like an electric shock, that a tidewas indeed rising. Was it a temporary tidal wave of human passion, mysterious in its origin, soon to subside, leaving such wreckageas its senseless fury might have caused? Or was it the beginningof the revolution so long feared, but not now guarded against? Converging from different avenues, men, women, and children werepouring by the thousand into a vacant lot near the park. Their presenceseemed like a dream. Why was this angry multitude gathering herewithin a few rods of rural loveliness, their hoarse cries blendingwith the songs of robins and thrushes? It had been expected thatthe red monster would raise its head, if at all, in some purlieuof the east side. On the contrary its segregate parts were comingtogether at a distance from regions that would naturally generatethem, and were forming under his very eyes the thing of which hehad read, and, of late, had dreamed night and day, --a mob. To change the figure, the vacant space, unbuilt upon as yet, wasbecoming an immense human reservoir, into which turgid streamswith threatening sounds were surging from the south. His eyes couldseparate the tumultuous atoms into ragged forms, unkempt heads, inflamed faces, animated by some powerful destructive impulse. Armsof every description proved that the purpose of the gathering wasnot a peaceful one. But what was the purpose? Riding closer he sought to question some on the outskirts of thethrong, and so drew attention to himself. Volleys of oaths, stones, and sticks, were the only answers he received. "Thank you, " Merwyn muttered, as he galloped away. "I beginto comprehend your meaning, but shall study you awhile before Itake part in the controversy. Then there shall be some knock-downarguments. " As he drew rein at a short distance the cry went up that he was a"spy, " and another rush was made for him; but he speedily distancedhis pursuers. To his surprise the great multitude turned southward, pouring down Fifth and Sixth avenues. After keeping ahead for afew blocks, he saw that the mob, now numbering many thousands, wascoming down town with some unknown purpose and destination. Two things were at least clear, --the outbreak was unexpected, andno preparation had been made for it. As he approached his home ona sharp trot, a vague air of apprehension and expectation was beginningto manifest itself, and but little more. Policemen were on theirbeats, and the city on the fashionable avenues and cross-streetswore its midsummer aspect. Before entering his own home he obeyedan impulse to gallop by the Vosburgh residence. All was still quiet, and Marian, with surprise, saw him clattering past in a way thatseemed reckless and undignified. On reaching his home he followed his groom to the stable, and said, quietly: "You are an old family servant, but you must now give mepositive assurance that I can trust you. There is a riot in thecity, and there is no telling what house will be safe. Will youmount guard night and day in my absence?" "Faix, sur, I will. Oi'll sarve ye as I did yer fayther afore ye. " "I believe you, but would shoot you if treacherous. You know I'vebeen expecting this trouble. Keep the horse saddled. Bar and bolteverything. I shall be in and out at all hours, but will enter bythe little side-door in the stable. Watch for my signal, and beready to open to me only any door, and bolt it instantly after me. Leave all the weapons about the house just where I have put them. If any one asks for me, say I'm out and you don't know when I'llbe back. Learn to recognize my voice and signal, no matter howdisguised I am. " The faithful old servant promised everything, and was soonexecuting orders. Before their neighbors had taken the alarm, theheavy shutters were closed, and the unusual precautions that in thefamily's absence had been adopted rendered access possible onlyto great violence. On reaching his room Merwyn thought for a fewmoments. He was intensely excited, and there was a gleam of wildhope in his eyes, but he felt with proud exultation that in hismanner he was imitating his father. Not a motion was hasty or useless. Right or wrong, in the solitude of his room or in the midst of themob, his brain should direct his hand. "And now my hand is free!" he exclaimed, aloud; "my oath cannotshackle it now. " His first conclusion was to mingle with the mob and learn thenature and objects of the enemy. He believed the information wouldbe valuable to Mr. Vosburgh and the police authorities. Havingaccomplished this purpose he would join any organized resistance hecould find, at the same time always seeking to shield Marian fromthe possibility of danger. He had already been shown that in order to understand the characterand aims of the mob he must appear to be one of them, and he decidedthat he could carry off the disguise of a young city mechanic betterthan any other. This plan he carried out by donning from his own wardrobe a plaindark flannel suit, which, when it had been rolled in dust and oil, and received a judicious rip here and there, presented the appearanceof a costume of a workman just from his shop. With further injunctionsto Thomas and the old serving-woman, he made his way rapidly tothe north-east, where the smoke of a conflagration proved that thespirit of mischief was increasing. One would not have guessed, as he hurried up Third Avenue, that hewas well armed, but there were two small, yet effective revolversand a dirk upon his person. As has been related before, he hadpractised for this emergency, and could be as quick as a flash withhis weapon. He had acted with the celerity of youth, guided by definite plans, and soon began to make his way quietly through the throng thatblocked the avenue, gradually approaching the fire at the corner of45th Street. At first the crowd was a mystery to him, so orderly, quiet, and inoffensive did it appear, although composed largelyof the very dregs of the slums. The crackling, roaring flames, devouring tenement-houses, were equally mysterious. No one wasseeking to extinguish them, although the occupants of the houseswere escaping for their lives, dragging out their humble effects. The crowd merely looked on with a pleased, satisfied expression. After a moment's thought Merwyn remembered that the draft had beenbegun in one of the burning houses, and was told by a bystander, "We smashed the ranch and broke some jaws before the bonfire. " That the crowd was only a purring tiger was soon proved, for someone near said, "There's Kennedy, chief of the cops;" and it seemedscarcely a moment before the officer was surrounded by an infuriatedthrong who were raining curses and blows upon him. Merwyn made an impulsive spring forward in his defence, but a dozenforms intervened, and his effort was supposed to be as hostile asthat of the rioters. The very numbers that sought to destroy Kennedygave him a chance, for they impeded one another, and, regaining hisfeet, he led a wild chase across a vacant lot, pursued by a hootingmob as if he were a mad dog. The crowd that filled the streetalmost as far as eye could reach now began to sway back and forthas if coming under the influence of some new impulse, and Merwynwas so wedged in that he had to move with the others. Being tallhe saw that Kennedy, after the most brutal treatment, was rescuedalmost by a miracle, apparently more dead than alive. It alsobecame clear to him that the least suspicion of his character andpurpose would cost him his life instantly. He therefore resolvedon the utmost self-control. He was ready to risk his life, but notto throw it away uselessly, --not at least till he knew that Marianwas safe. It was his duty now to investigate the mob, not fightit. The next excitement was caused by the cry, "The soldiers are coming!" These proved to be a small detachment of the invalid corps, whoshowed their comprehension of affairs by firing over the rioters'heads, thinking to disperse them by a little noise. The mob settledthe question of noise by howling as if a menagerie had broken loose, and, rushing upon the handful of men, snatched their muskets, firstpounding the almost paralyzed veterans, and then chasing them asa wilderness of wolves would pursue a small array of sheep. As Merwyn stepped down from a dray, whereon he had witnessed thescene, he muttered, indiscreetly, "What does such nonsense amountto!" A big hulking fellow, carrying a bar of iron, who had stood besidehim, and who apparently had had his suspicions, asked, fiercely, "An' what did ye expect it wud amount to? An' what's the nonsenseye're growlin' at? By the holy poker oi belave you're a spy. " "Yis, prove that, and I'll cut his heart out, " cried an inebriatedwoman, brandishing a knife a foot long. "Yes, prove it, you thunderin' fool!" cried Merwyn. "The cops are comin' now, and you want to begin a fight amongourselves. " True enough, the cry came ringing up the avenue, "The cops comin. '" "Oh, an' ye's wan uv us, oi'll stan' by ye; but oi've got me eyeon ye, and 'ud think no more o' brainin' ye than a puppy. " "Try brainin' the cops first, if yer know when yer well off, " repliedMerwyn, drawing a pistol. "I didn't come out to fight bullies inour crowd. " The momentary excitement caused by this altercation was swallowedup by the advent of a squad of police, which wheeled into the avenuefrom 43d Street, and checked the pursuit of the bleeding remnantsof the invalid corps. Those immediately around the young man pressedforward to see what took place, he following, but edging towardsthe sidewalk, with the eager purpose to see the first fight betweenthe mob and the police. CHAPTER XLII. THAT WORST OF MONSTERS, A MOB. AFTER reaching the sidewalk Merwyn soon found a chance to mounta dry-goods box, that he might better observe the action of thepolice and form an idea of their numbers. The moment he saw theinsignificant band he felt that they were doomed men, or else thespirit abroad was not what he thought it to be, and he had beenwitnessing some strong indications of its ruthless nature. It was characteristic of the young fellow that he did not rush tothe aid of the police. He was able, even in that seething floodof excitement, to reason coolly, and his thoughts were somethingto this effect: "I'm not going to throw away my life and all itschances and duties because the authorities are so ignorant as tosacrifice a score or two of their men. I shall not fight at all untilI have seen Marian and Mr. Vosburgh. When I have done something toinsure their safety, or at least to prove that I am not a coward, I shall know better what to do and how to do it. This outbreak isnot an affair of a few hours. She herself may be exposed to thefury of these fiends, for I believe her father is, or will be, amarked man. " Seeing, farther up the avenue, a small balcony as yet unoccupied, he pushed his way towards it, that he might obtain one more viewof the drift of affairs before taking his course. The hall-doorleading to the second story was open and filled with a crowd offrightened, unkempt women and children, who gave way before him. The door of the room opening on the balcony was locked, and, inresponse to his repeated knockings, a quavering voice asked whatwas wanted. "You must open instantly, " was his reply. A trembling, gray-haired woman put the door ajar, and he pushedin at once, saying: "Bolt the door again, madam. I will do you noharm, and may be able to save you from injury;" and he was out inthe balcony before his assurances were concluded. "Indeed, sir, I've done no one any wrong, and therefore need noprotection. I only wish to be let alone with my children. " "That you cannot expect with certainty, in view of what is goingon to-day. Do you not know that they are burning houses? As longas I'm here I'll be a protection. I merely wish the use of thislittle outlook for a brief time. So say nothing more, for I mustgive my whole attention to the fight. " "Well then, since you are so civil, you can stay; but the streetis full of devils. " He paid no heed to her further lamentations, and looking southwardsaw that the police had formed a line across the avenue, and thatsuch battered remnants of the invalid corps as had escaped werelimping off behind their cover as fast as possible. The presenceof the city's guardians had caused a brief hesitation in theapproaching and broken edge of the rabble. Seeing this the bravesergeant ordered a charge, which was promptly and swiftly made, themob recoiling before it more and more slowly as under pressure itbecame denser. There was no more effort to carry out the insane, rather than humane, tactics of the invalid corps, who had eitherfired high or used blank cartridges, for now the police struckfor life with their locust clubs, and the thud of the blows couldoften be heard even above the uproar. Every one within reach oftheir arms went down, and the majority lay quietly where they fell, as the devoted little band pressed slowly forward. With regretMerwyn saw Barney Ghegan among the foremost, his broad red facestreaming with perspiration, and he wielding his club as if it werethe deadliest of shillalahs. They did indeed strike manfully, and proved what an adequate forcecould do. Rioters fell before them on every side. But hopelessreaping was theirs, with miles of solid, bloodthirsty humanitybefore them. Slowly and more falteringly they made their way threeblocks, as far as 46th Street, sustained by the hope of findingreinforcements there. Instead of these, heavier bodies of theenemy poured in from the side-streets upon the exhausted men, andthe mob closed behind them from 45th Street, like dark, surgingwaves. Then came a mad rush upon the hemmed-in officers, who wereattacked in front and in the rear, with clubs, iron-bars, guns, and pistols. Tom, bruised, bleeding, the force that had fought sogallantly broke, each man striking out for his own life. The vastheterogeneous crowd now afforded their chief chance for escape. Dodging behind numbers, taking advantage of the wild confusionof the swaying, trampling masses, and striking down some directopponent, a few got off with slight bruises. There were wonderfulinstances of escape. The brave sergeant who had led the squad hadhis left wrist broken by an iron bar, but, knocking down two otherassailants, he sprung into a house and bolted the door after him. An heroic German girl, with none of the stolid phlegm attributedto her race, lifted the upper mattress of her bed. The sergeantsprung in and was covered up without a word. There was no time thenfor plans and explanations. A moment later the door was broken, and a score of fierce-visaged men streamed in. Now the girl wasstolidity itself. "Der cop run out der back door, " was all that she could be made tosay in answer to fierce inquiries. Every apartment was examined invain, and then the roughs departed in search of other prey. Brave, simple-hearted girl! She would have been torn to pieces had herhumane strategy been discovered. But a more memorable act of heroism was reserved for another woman, Mrs. Eagan, the wife of the man who had rescued Superintendent Kennedya short time before. A policeman was knocked down with a hay-balerung, and fell at her very feet. In a moment more he would havebeen killed, but this woman instantly covered his form with herown, so that no blow could reach him unless she was first struck. Then she begged for his life. Even the wild-beast spirit of the mobwas touched, and the pursuers passed on. A monument should havebeen built to the woman who, in that pandemonium of passion, couldso risk all for a stranger. I am not defending Merwyn's course, but sketching a character. Hisspirit of strategical observation would have forsaken him had hewitnessed that scene, and indeed it did forsake him as he saw BarneyGhegan running and making a path for himself by the terrific blowsof his club. Three times he fell but rose again, with the sameindomitable pluck which had won his suit to pretty Sally Maguire. At last the brave fellow was struck down almost opposite the balcony. Merwyn knew the man was a favorite of the Vosburghs, and he couldnot bear that the brave fellow should be murdered before his veryeyes; yet murdered he apparently was ere Merwyn could reach thestreet. Like baffled fiends his pursuers closed upon the unfortunateman, pounding him and jumping upon him. And almost instantly thevile hags that followed the marauders like harpies, for the sakeof plunder began stripping his body. "Stop!" thundered Merwyn, the second he reached the scene, and, standing over the prostrate form, he levelled a pistol at the throng. "Now, listen to me, " he added. "I don't wish to hurt anybody. You've killed this man, so let his body alone. I know his wife, an Irishwoman, and she ought at least to have his body for decentburial. " "Faix, an he's roight, " cried one, who seemed a leader. "We'vekilled the man. Let his woife have what's left uv 'im;" and thecrowd broke away, following the speaker. This was one of the early indications of what was provedafterwards, --that the mob was hydra-headed, following either itsown impulses or leaders that sprung up everywhere. An abandoned express-wagon stood near, and into this Merwyn, withthe help of a bystander, lifted the insensible man. The young fellowthen drove, as rapidly as the condition of the streets permitted, to the nearest hospital. A few yards carried him beyond those whohad knowledge of the affair, and after that he was unmolested. Itwas the policy of the rioters to have the bodies of their friendsdisappear as soon as possible. Poor Ghegan had been stripped tohis shirt and drawers, and so was not recognized as a "cop. " Leaving him at the hospital, with brief explanations, Merwyn wasabout to hasten away, when the surgeon remarked, "The man is dead, apparently. " "I can't help it, " cried Merwyn. "I'll bring his wife as soon aspossible. Of course you will do all in your power;" and he startedaway on a run. A few moments later Barney Ghegan was taken to the dead-house. CHAPTER XLIII. THE "COWARD. " MERWYN now felt that he had carried out the first part of his plan. He had looked into the murderous eyes of the mob, and learnedits spirit and purpose. Already he reproached himself for leavingMarian alone so long, especially as columns of smoke were risingthroughout the northern part of the city. It seemed an age sincehe had seen that first cloud of the storm, as he emerged from thepark after his quiet ride, but it was not yet noon. As he sped through the streets, running where he dared, and fortunatelyhaving enough of the general aspect of a rioter to be unmolested, he noticed a new feature in the outbreak, one that soon becamea chief characteristic, --the hatred of negroes and the sanguinarypursuit of them everywhere. "Another danger for the Vosburghs, " he groaned. "They have a coloredservant, who must be spirited off somewhere instantly. " Avoiding crowds, he soon reached the quiet side-street on whichMarian lived, and was overjoyed to find it almost deserted. MammyBorden herself answered his impatient ring, and was about to shutthe door on so disreputable a person as he now appeared to be, whenhe shouldered it open, turned, locked and chained it with haste. "What do you mean, sir? and who are you?" Marian demanded, runningfrom the parlor on hearing the expostulations of her servant. "Have patience, Miss Vosburgh. " "Oh, it is you, Mr. Merwyn. Indeed I have need of patience. Anhour ago papa sent a message from down town, saying: 'Don't leavethe house to-day. Serious trouble on foot. ' Since then not a word, only wild-looking people running through the street, the ringing offire-bells, and the sounds of some kind of disturbance. What doesit all mean? and why do you bar and bolt everything so timidly?"and the excited girl poured out her words in a torrent. Merwyn's first words were exasperating, and the girl had alreadypassed almost beyond self-control. "Has any one seen your coloredservant to-day?" "What if they have? What does your unseemly guise mean? Oh that mybrave friends were here to go out and meet the rabble like soldiers!There's an outbreak, of course; we've been expecting it; butcertainly MEN should not fear the canaille of the slums. It givesme a sickening impression, Mr. Merwyn, to see you rush in, almostforce your way in, and disguised too, as if you sought safety byidentifying yourself with those who would quail before a brave, armed man. Pardon me if I'm severe, but I feel that my father isin danger, and if I don't hear from him soon I shall take MammyBorden as escort and go to his office. Whoever is abroad, theywon't molest women, and I'M NOT AFRAID. " "By so doing you would disobey your father, who has told you notto leave the house to-day. " "But I can't bear inaction and suspense at such a time. " "You must bear it, Miss Vosburgh. Seeing the mood you are in, I shall not permit that door to be opened to any one except yourfather or some one that you recognize. " "You cannot help yourself, " she replied, scornfully, approachingthe door. He was there before her, and, taking out the key, put it in hispocket. "Oh, this is shameful!" she cried, blushing scarlet "Can your fearscarry you so far?" "Yes, and much farther, if needful, " he replied, with a grim laugh. "When you are calm enough to listen to me, to be sane and just, I'll explain. Until you are I shall remain master here and protectyou and your home. " Then, in a tone of stern authority, he added:"Mrs. Borden, sit yonder in that darkened parlor, and don't moveunless I tell you to hide. Then hide in earnest, as you value yourlife. " "Would you not also like a hiding-place provided, Mr. Merwyn?"Marian asked, almost beside herself with anger and anxiety. His reply was to go to the window and look up and down the stillquiet street. "A respite, " he remarked, then turned to the colored woman, and ina tone which she instantly obeyed, said, "Go to that parlor, whereyou cannot be seen from the street. " Then to Marian, "I have noauthority over you. " "No, I should hope not. Is there no escape from this intrusion?" "None for the present, " he replied, coldly. "You settled it longsince that I was a coward, and now that I am not a gentleman. I shall make no self-defence except to your father, whom I expectmomentarily. He cannot leave you alone to-day an instant longerthan is unavoidable. I wish to remind you of one thing, however:your soldier friends have long been your pride. " "Oh that these friends were here to day!" "They would be surprised at your lack of quiet fortitude. " "Must I be humiliated in my own home?" "You are humiliating yourself. Had you treated me with even yourold cool toleration and civility, I would have told you all thathas happened since morning; but you have left me no chance foranything except to take the precautions heedful to save your homeand yourself. You think I fled here as a disguised fugitive. Whenshall I forget this crowning proof of your estimate and esteem?You see I did not come unarmed, " partially drawing a revolver. "Irepeat, you are proud of your soldier friends. You have not learnedthat the first duty of a soldier is to obey orders; and you have yourfather's orders. Obey them quietly, and you are under no necessityto speak to me again. When your father comes I will relieve you ofmy hated presence. If he wishes it, I will still serve you both forhis sake, for he always kept a little faith and fairness for me. Now, regard me as a sentinel, a common soldier, to whom you neednot speak until your father comes;" and he turned to the windowsand began fastening them. He, too, was terribly incensed. He had come to interpose his lifebetween her and danger, and her words and manner had probed a deepwound that had long been bleeding. The scenes he had witnessed hadwrought him up to a mood as stern and uncompromising as the deathhe soon expected to meet. When utterly off her guard she had shownhim, as he believed, her utter contempt and detestation, and atthat moment there was not a more reckless man in the city. But his bitter words and indomitable will had quieted her As hestood motionless upon guard by the window, his was not the attitudeof a cowering fugitive. She now admitted that her wild excitementand her disposition to rush to her father, contrary to his injunction, were unworthy of her friends and of herself. There had been panic that morning in the city, and she had caughtthe contagion in a characteristic way. She had had no thought ofhiding and cowering, but she had been on the eve of carrying outrash impulses. She had given way to uncontrollable excitement; andif her father should learn all she feared he would send her fromthe city as one not to be trusted. What should she think of thatsilent, motionless sentinel at the window? Suppose, after all, she had misunderstood and misjudged him, --suppose he HAD come forher protection. In view of this possibility which she had now toentertain, how grossly she had insulted him! If her father came andapproved of his course, how could she ever look one so wronged inthe face again? She must try to soften her words a little. Woman-like, she believed that she could certainly soothe a man as far as shedeemed it judicious, and then leave the future for further diplomacy. Coward, or not, he had now made her afraid of him. "Mr. Merwyn, " she began. He made no response whatever. Again, in a lower and more timid voice, she repeated his name. Without turning, he said: "Miss Vosburgh, I'm on guard. Youinterfere with my duty. There is no reason for further courtesiesbetween us. If you are sufficiently calm, aid Mrs. Borden in packingsuch belongings as she actually needs. She must leave this houseas soon as possible. " "What!" cried the girl, hotly, "send this faithful old woman outinto the streets? Never. " "I did not say, 'out into the streets. ' When your father comes oneof his first efforts will be to send her to a place of safety. Nodoubt he has already warned her son to find a hiding-place. " "Great heavens! why don't you explain?" "What chance have I had to explain? Ah! come here, and all will beplain enough. " She stood at his side and saw a gang of men and boys' chasinga colored man, with the spirit of bloodhounds in their tones andfaces. "Now I'se understan', too, Mass'r Merwyn, " said the tremblingcolored woman, looking over their shoulders. "Go back, " he said, sternly. "If you were seen, that yelling packof fiends would break into this house as if it were paste-board. Obey orders, both of you, and keep out of sight. " Awed, overwhelmed, they stole to the back parlor; but Marian soonfaltered, "O Mr. Merwyn, won't you forgive me?" He made no reply, and a moment later he stepped to the door. Mr. Vosburgh hastily entered, and Marian rushed into his arms. "What, Merwyn! you here? Thank God my darling was not alone! Well, Merwyn, you've got to play the soldier now, and so have we all. " "I shall not 'play the soldier';" was the reply, in quick, firmutterance. "But no matter about me, except that my time is limited. I wish to report to you certain things which I have seen, and leaveit to your decision whether I can serve you somewhat, and whetherMiss Vosburgh should remain in the city. I would also respectfullysuggest that your colored servant be sent out of town at once. I offer my services to convey her to New Jersey, if you know of anear refuge there, or else to my place in the country. " "Good God, Merwyn! don't you know that by such an act you take yourlife in your hand?" "I have already taken it in my hand, an open hand at that. It hasbecome of little value to me. But we have not a second to lose. Ihave a very sad duty to perform at once, and only stayed till youcame. If you have learned the spirit abroad to-day, you know thatyour household was and is in danger. " "Alas! I know it only too well. The trouble had scarcely begunbefore I was using agents and telegraph wires. I have also beento police headquarters. Only the sternest sense of duty to thegovernment kept me so long from my child; but a man at Washingtonis depending on me for information. " "So I supposed. I may be able to serve you, if you can bringyourself to employ a coward. I shall be at police headquarters, and can bring you intelligence. When not on duty you should be inthe streets as little as possible. But, first, I would respectfullysuggest that Miss Vosburgh retire, for I have things to say to youwhich she should not hear. " "This to me, who listened to the story of Gettysburg?" "All was totally different then. " "And I, apparently, was totally different. I deserve your reproach;I should be sent to the nursery. " "I think you should go and help Mrs. Borden, " said Merwyn, quietly. "It's impossible to send Mammy Borden away just yet, --not tilldarkness comes to aid our effort, " said Mr. Vosburgh, decisively. "You can serve me greatly, Merwyn, and your country also, if youhave the nerve. It will require great risks. I tell you so frankly. This is going to prove worse than open battle. O Marian, would toGod you were with your mother!" "In that case I would come to you if I had to walk. I have wrongedand insulted you, Mr. Merwyn; I beg your pardon. Now don't wasteanother moment on me, for I declare before God I shall remain withmy father unless taken away by force; and you would soon find thatthe most fatal course possible. " "Well, these are lurid times. I dreaded the thing enough, but nowthat it has come so unexpectedly, it is far worse--But enough ofthis. Mr. Merwyn, are you willing to take the risks that I shall?" "Yes, on condition that I save you unnecessary risks. " "Oh what a fool I've been!" Marian exclaimed, with one of herexpressive gestures. "Mr. Vosburgh, " said Merwyn, "there is one duty which I feel I oughtto perform first of all. Mrs. Ghegan, your old waitress, should betaken to her husband. " "What! Barney? What has happened to him?" "I fear he is dead. I disguised myself as you see--" "Yes, sensibly. No well-dressed man is safe on some streets. " "Certainly not where I've been. I determined to learn the characterof the mob, and I have mingled among them all the morning. I sawthe invalid corps put to flight instantly, and the fight with ahandful of police that followed. I looked on, for to take part wasto risk life and means of knowledge uselessly. The savage, murderousspirit shown on every side also proved that your household mightbe in danger while you were absent. The police fought bravelyand vainly. They were overpowered as a matter of course, and yetthe police will prove the city's chief defence. When I saw Barneyrunning and fighting heroically for his life, I couldn't remainspectator any longer, but before I could reach him he was prostrate, senseless, and nearly stripped. With my revolver and a littlepersuasion I secured his body, and took it to a hospital. A surgeonthought he was dead. I don't know, but that his wife should beinformed and go to him seems only common humanity. " "Well, Merwyn, I don't know, " said Mr. Vosburgh, dubiously; "weare in the midst of a great battle, and when one is down--Well, the cause must be first, you know. Whether this is a part ofthe rebellion or not, it will soon be utilized by the Confederateleaders. What I say of Barney I would say of myself and mine, --allprivate considerations must give--" "I understand, " interrupted Merwyn, impatiently. "But in taking Mrs. Ghegan across town I could see and learn as much as if alone, andshe would even be a protection to me. In getting information onewill have to use every subterfuge. I think nothing will be lost bythis act. From the hospital I will go direct to police headquarters, and stipulate as to my service, --for I shall serve in my own way, --andthen, if there is no pressing duty, I will report to you again. " Mr. Vosburgh sprung up and wrung the young fellow's hand as hesaid: "We have done you great wrong. I, too, beg your pardon. Butmore than all the city to me is my duty to the general government. To a certain extent I must keep aloof from the actual scenesof violence, or I fail my employers and risk vast interests. Ifconsistently with your ideas of duty you can aid me now, I shallbe more grateful than if you saved my life. Information now may bevital to the nation's safety. You may find me at police headquartersan hour or two hence. " "It is settled then, and events will shape future action;" and hewas turning hastily away. A hand fell upon his arm, and never had he looked upon a face inwhich shame and contrition were so blended. "What will be your future action towards me?" Marian asked, as shedetained him. "Will you have no mercy on the girl who was so weakas to be almost hysterical?" "You have redeemed your weakness, " he replied, coldly. "You areyour old high-bred, courageous self, and you will probably ceaseto think of me as a coward before the day is over. Good-afternoon;"and in a moment he was gone. "I have offended him beyond hope, " she said, as she turned, drooping, to her father. "Never imagine it, darling, " her father replied, with a smile. "Hislip quivered as you spoke, and I have learned to read the faintestsigns in a man. You have both been overwrought and in no conditionfor calm, natural action. Mervvyn will relent. You lost your poisethrough excitement, not cowardice, and he, young and all undisciplined, has witnessed scenes that might appall a veteran. But now all mustbe courage and action. Since you will remain with me you must be asoldier, and be armed like one. Come with me to my room, and I willgive you a small revolver. I am glad that you have amused yourselfwith the dangerous toy, and know how to use it. Then you must helpme plan a disguise which will almost deceive your eyes. Keepingbusy, my dear, will prove the best tonic for your nerves. MammyBorden, you must go to your room and stay there till we find a wayof sending you to a place of safety. After you have disappearedfor a time I'll tell the other servant that you have gone away. Isent your son home before I left the office, and he, no doubt, iskeeping out of harm's way. " The old woman courtesied, but there was a dogged, hunted look inher eyes as she crept away, muttering, "Dis is what Zeb call de'lan' ob de free!'" CHAPTER XLIV. A WIFE'S EMBRACE. "O PAPA, " cried Marian, after reaching the library, "we let Mr. Merwyn go without a lunch, and it's nearly two o'clock. Nor do Ibelieve you have had a mouthful since breakfast, and I've forgottenall about providing anything. Oh, how signally I have failed onthe first day of battle!" "You are not the first soldier, by untold millions, who has doneso; but you have not shown the white feather yet. " "When I do that I shall expire from shame. You rummage for adisguise, and I'll be back soon. " She hastened to the kitchen, and at a glance saw that the Irishcook had fled, taking not a little with her. The range fire wasout, and the refrigerator and the store-closet had been ravaged. She first barred and bolted all the doors, and then the best shecould bring her father was crackers and milk and some old Sherrywine; but she nearly dropped these when she saw a strange man, asshe supposed, emerge from his bedroom. Mr. Vosburgh's laugh reassured her, and he said: "I fancy I shallpass among strangers, since you don't know me. Nothing could bebetter than the milk and crackers. No wine. My head must be clearerto-day than it ever was before. So the Irish Biddy has gone withher plunder? Good riddance to her. She would have been a spy in thecamp. I'll bring home food that won't require cooking, and you'llhave to learn to make coffee, for Merwyn and others will, no doubt, often come half dead from fatigue. All we can do is to foragein such shops as are open, and you'll have to take the office ofcommissary at once. You must also be my private secretary. As fastas I write these despatches and letters copy them. I can eat andwrite at the same time. In an hour I must go out. " "I won't play the fool again, " said the girl, doggedly. "Drink this glass of milk first, while I run down for more, andsatisfy my mind as to the fastenings, etc. " "But, papa--" "Marian, " he said, gravely, "you can stay with me only on onecondition: you must obey orders. " "That is what Mr. Merwyn said. Oh what a credit I've been to mymilitary friends!" and with difficulty she drank the milk. "You are a promising young recruit, " was the smiling reply. "We'llpromote you before the week's out. " In five minutes he was back, cool, yet almost as quick as light inevery movement. The despatches she copied were unintelligible to Marian, but theone to whom they were addressed had the key. The copies of theletters were placed in a secret drawer. When their tasks were finished, Mr. Vosburgh looked up and downthe street and was glad to find it comparatively empty. The stormof passion was raging elsewhere. He closed all the shutters of the house, giving it a deserted aspect, then said to his daughter. "You must admit no one in my absence, and parley with no one who does not give the password, 'Gettysburgand Little Round Top. ' If men should come who say these words, tellthem to linger near without attracting attention, and come againafter I return. Admit Merwyn, of course, for you know his voice. It is a terrible trial to leave you alone, but there seems to beno prospect of trouble in this locality. At all events, I must domy duty, cost what it may. Be vigilant, and do not worry unnecessarilyif I am detained. " "I am bent on retrieving myself, papa; and I'd rather die than beso weak again. " "That's my brave girl. You won't die. After this venture, which Imust make at once, I shall be able to take greater precautions;"and with a fond look and kiss, he hastened away through the basemententrance, Marian fastening it securely after him. We must now follow Merwyn's fortunes for a time. Rapidly, yetvigilantly he made his way up town and crossed Third Avenue. He soonobserved that the spirit of lawlessness was increasing. Columns ofsmoke were rising from various points, indicating burning buildings, and in Lexington Avenue he witnessed the unblushing sack of beautifulhomes, from which the inmates had been driven in terror for theirlives. "It will be strange if Mr. Vosburgh's home escapes, " he thought. "Some one must know enough of his calling to bring upon him andhis the vengeance of the mob. I shall do the best I can for him andhis daughter, but to-day has slain the last vestige of hope beyondthat of compelling her respect. Wholly off her guard, she showedher deep-rooted detestation, and she can never disguise it again. Regret and mortification at her conduct, a wish to make amendsand to show gratitude for such aid as I may give her father, willprobably lead her to be very gracious; at the same time I shall everknow that in her heart is a repugnance which she cannot overcome. A woman can never love a man towards whom she has entertainedthoughts like hers;" and with much bitter musings, added to hisreckless impulses, he made his way to the region in which Mrs. Ghegan had her rooms. Finding a livery stable near he hired a hack, securing it bythreats as well as money, and was soon at the door of the tenementhe sought. Mrs. Ghegan showed her scared, yet pretty face in response to hisknock. "Ye's brought me bad news, " she said, instantly, beginning to sob. "Yes, Mrs. Ghegan; but if you love your husband you will show itnow. I have come to take you to him. He has been wounded. " "Is it Mr. Merwyn?" "Yes; I've just come from Mr. Vosburgh, and he will do what he canfor you when he has a chance. They know about your trouble. Nowmake haste, for we've not a moment to lose in reaching the hospital. " "The Lord knows I love Barney as me loife, an' that I'd go to himthrough fire and blood. Oi'll kape ye no longer than to tie mebonnet on;" and this she was already doing with trembling fingers. Locking the door, she took the key with her, and was soon in thehack. Merwyn mounted the box with the driver, knowing that opennesswas the best safeguard against suspicions that might soon provefatal. At one point they were surrounded and stopped by the rioters, who demanded explanations. "Clear out, ye bloody divils!" cried Sally, who did not counttimidity among her foibles; "wud ye kape a woman from goin' to herhusband, a-dyin' beloikes?" "Oh, let us pass, " said Merwyn, in a loud tone. "A cop knocked herhusband on the head, and we are taking her to him. " "Och! ye are roight, me mon. We'll let onybody pass who spakes inher swate brogue;" and the crowd parted. Reaching the hospital, Sally rushed into the office with thebreathless demand, "Where's Barney?" Merwyn recognized the surgeon he had met before, and said: "Youknow the man I brought a few hours since. This is his wife. " The surgeon looked grave and hesitated. "What have ye done wid him?" Sally almost screamed. "Are ye nobetter than the bloody villains in the strates?" "My good woman, " began the surgeon, "you must be more composed andreasonable. We try to save life when there is life--" "Where is he?" shrieked the woman. The surgeon, accustomed to similar scenes, nodded to an attendant, and said, gravely, "Show her. " Merwyn took the poor woman's hand to restrain as well as to reassureher, saying, with sympathies deeply touched, "Mrs. Ghegan, rememberyou are not friendless, whatever happens. " "Quick! quick!" she said to her guide. "Och! what's a wurld uvfrin's if I lose Barney? Poor man! poor man! He once said I blewhot and could, but oi'd give him me loife's blood now. " To Merwyn's sorrow they were led to the dead-house, and there laythe object of their quest, apparently lifeless, his battered facealmost past recognition. But Sally knew him instantly, and staredfor a moment as if turned to stone; then, with a wild cry, she threwherself upon him, moaning, sobbing, and straining his unconsciousform to her breast. Merwyn felt that it would be best to let her paroxysm of grief expenditself unrestrained; but a bitter thought crossed his mind, --"I maybe in as bad a plight as poor Barney before the day closes, yet noone would grieve for me like that. " Suddenly Mrs. Ghegan became still. In her embrace her hand hadrested over her husband's heart, and had felt a faint pulsation. A moment later she sprung up and rushed back to the office. Merwynthought that she was partially demented, and could scarcely keeppace with her. Bursting in at the door, she cried: "Och! ye bloody spalpanes, toput a loive man where ye did! Come wid me, an' oi'll tache ye thatI knows more than ye all. " "Please satisfy her, " said Merwyn to the surgeon, who was inclinedto ignore what he regarded as the wild ravings of a grief-crazedwoman. "Well, well, if it will do any good; but we have too much to doto-day for those who have a chance--" "Come on, or oi'll drag ye there, " the wife broke in. "When I've satisfied you, my good woman, you must become quiet andcivil. Other wives have lost their husbands--" But Sally was already out of hearing. Reaching the supposed corpse, the deeply excited woman said, with eyes blazing through her tears, "Put yez hand on his heart. " The surgeon did so, and almost instantly the expression of his facechanged, and he said sharply to the attendant, "Bring a stretcherwith bearers at once. " Then to Sally: "You are right; he is alive, but there was no such pulsation as this when he was brought here. Now be quiet and cheer up, and we may help you save his life. Youcan stay and take care of him. " Merwyn again took the wife's trembling hand and said, earnestly:"Mrs. Ghegan, obey the surgeon's orders exactly. Be quiet, gentle, and self-controlled, and Barney may outlive us all. " "Faix, Mr. Merwyn, now that oi've hope I'll be whist as a babyasleep. Ye knew me onst as a light, giddy gurl, but oi'll watchover Barney wid such a slapeless eye as wud shame his own mither. " And she kept her word. For days and nights her husband remainedunconscious, wavering between life and death. The faithful woman, as indifferent to the tumult and havoc in the city as if it werein another land, sat beside him and furthered all efforts in awinning fight. Merwyn saw him in a hospital ward, surrounded by skilful hands, before he took his leave. "God bless ye!" Sally began. "If yez hadn't brought me--" But, pressing her hand warmly, he did not wait to hear her gratefulwords. CHAPTER XLV. THE DECISIVE BATTLE. MERWYN was now very anxious to reach police headquarters inMulberry Street, for he felt that the safety of the city, as wellas all personal interests dear to him, depended upon adequate andwell-organized resistance. The driver, having been promised a handsome reward to remain, stillwaited. Indeed, he had gained the impression that Merwyn was insympathy with the ruthless forces then in the ascendant, and hefelt safer in his company than if returning alone. Mounting the box again, Merwyn directed the driver to make his waythrough the more open streets to Broadway and 14th Street. They had not gone far through the disturbed districts when fourrough-looking men stopped them, took possession of the hack, andinsolently required that they should be driven to Union Square. Thelast ugly-visaged personage to enter the vehicle paused a moment, drew a revolver, and said, "An' ye don't 'bey orders, this littlebull-dog will spake to ye next. " The Jehu looked with a pallid face at Merwyn, who said, carelessly:"It's all right. They are going in my direction. " The quartet within soon began to entertain suspicions of Merwyn, and the one who had last spoken, apparently the leader, thrust hishead out of the window and shouted: "Shtop! Who the divil is thatchap on the box wid ye?" "I'll answer for myself, " said Merwyn, seeking to employ thevernacular as well as the appearance of an American mechanic. "Thedriver don't know anything about me. A cop knocked a friend of mineon the head this morning, and I've been taking his wife to him. " The driver now took his cue, and added, "Faix, and a nice, dacentlittle Irishwoman she was, bedad. " "Then ye're wan wid us?" cried the leader of the gang. "It looks mighty like it, " was the laughing reply. "This would bea poor place for me to hang out, if I was afraid of you or yourfriends. " "Yez may bet your loife on that. How coomes it ye're so hand-and-glovewid an Irishman, when ye spake no brogue at all?" "Thunder! man, do you think no one but Irishmen are going to havea fist in this scrimmage? I'm as ready to fight as you are, and amonly going down town to join my own gang. Why shouldn't I have anIrishman for a friend, if he's a good fellow, I'd like to know?" "Beloikes they'll be yez best frin's. All roight. Dhrive on andmoind your eye, or the bull-dog will bark. " They ordered a halt several times, while one and another went toa saloon for a drink. It was fast becoming evident that, shouldthere be any want of courage or recklessness, whiskey would supplythe lack. Merwyn preserved nonchalant indifference, even when his disreputablecompanions were approached by those with whom they were in league, and information and orders were exchanged which he partiallyoverheard. Although much was said in a jargon that he scarcelyunderstood, he gathered that nothing less was on foot than an attackon police headquarters, in the hope of crushing at the start thepower most feared. Therefore, while he maintained his mask, everysense was on the alert. At length they reached Union Square, and the occupants of thehack alighted. Two went east and one west, while the leader saidto Merwyn, who had also jumped down: "Take me to your gang. We'reafther needing ivery divil's son of 'im widin the next hour or so. It's a big game we're playin' now, me lad, an' see that ye playsquare and thrue, or your swateheart'll miss ye the noight. " "You'll have to have a bigger crowd on Broadway before you'll getour fellows out, " Merwyn replied. "We're not going to face the copsuntil there's enough on hand to give us a livin' chance. " "There'll be plenty on hand--more'n ye ever seed in yer loife--beforeye're an hour older. So lead on, and shtop your palaver. I'm notquite sure on ye yet. " "You soon will be, " replied Merwyn, with his reckless and misleadinglaugh. "My course is down Broadway to Bleecker Street and thenwest. I can show you as pretty a lot of fellows as you'll want tosee, and most of us are armed. " "All roight. Broadway suits me. I want to see if the coast isclear. " "So do I, and what the cops are about in these diggin's. The rightthing to do is for all hands to pitch right on to them in MulberryStreet, and then the game's in our own hands. " "If that's the lark we have on foot, can ye promise that yer gang'lljoin us?" "Yes, sir, for we'd know that meant business. " "How many could ye muster?" "I hardly know. We were a-growin' fast when I left. " "Well, lead on loively. Ivery minute now should give me a dozenmen, an' we want to start the blaze down this way. I tell ye it'sa burning-up town. " "So I should guess from the smoke we see, " said Merwyn, with hisold laugh. "Jupiter! there comes a squad of cops. " "Well, what do we care? We're two paceable, dacent citizens, a-strollin' down Broadway. " "Oh, I'm not afraid, " was the careless reply. "I'm going to seethis scrimmage out, and I like the fun. Let's watch the cops crossthe street, and see how they are armed. " As the little squad approached Broadway from a side-street, hasteningto headquarters, the Hibernian firebrand and his supposed ally stoodon the curbstone, A moment later Merwyn struck his companion sucha powerful blow on the temple that he fell in the street, almostin front of the officers of the law. The young fellow then sprungupon the stunned and helpless man, and took away his weapons, atthe same time, crying: "Secure him. He's a leader of the mob. " "Yes, and you too, my hard hitter, " said the sergeant in command. "I'll go quietly enough, so long as you take him with me. Be quickabout it, too, for I have news that should be known at headquartersas soon as possible. " The police now supposed that they recognized one of a bandof detectives, everywhere busy about the city in all kinds ofdisguises, --men of wonderful nerve, who rendered the authoritiesvery important services, and often captured the most dangerous ofthe ruffianly leaders. The fellow in question was hustled to his feet, having discoveredMerwyn's gang sooner than he desired. The squad pushed through thefast-gathering and bewildered crowd, and soon reached headquarters. The young fellow told his story in the presence of Mr. Vosburgh, whoevidently had credentials which secured for him absolute confidenceon the part of the authorities. Merwyn soon learned to recognize in his interlocutor, thesuperintendent of the metropolitan police, a man to whose activebrain, iron will, and indomitable courage, the city chiefly owedits deliverance, --Thomas C. Acton. Confirmation of the sinister tidings was already coming in fast. Thebrutal mob that had sacked and burned the Colored Orphan Asylum wasmoving southward, growing with accessions from different quarters, like a turbulent torrent. Its destination was well understood, and Acton knew that the crisis had come thus early. He frequentlyconferred with Chief Clerk Seth C. Hawley, upon whom, next tohimself, rested the heaviest burdens of those terrific days. Merwyn offered his services on the force, stipulating, however, that he might be in a measure his own master, since he had otherduties to perform, at the same time promising to do his share ofthe fighting. Mr. Vosburgh drew Acton to one side, and made a few whisperedexplanations. Merwyn's request was granted at once, Acton adding, "There will be a general call in the morning papers for the enrolmentof citizens as policemen. " The moments were crowded with preparations, counsels, and decisions. The telegraph wires, concentring there from all parts of the city, were constantly ticking off direful intelligence; but the mostthreatening fact was the movement down Broadway of unknown thousands, maddened by liquor, and confident from their unchecked excessesduring the day. They knew that they had only to destroy the handfulof men at police headquarters and the city was theirs to plunderand destroy with hyena-like savagery. Acton, now cognizant of the worst, went to the police commissioners'room and said: "Gentlemen, the crisis has come. A battle must befought now, and won, too, or all is lost. " None doubted the truth of his word; but who should lead the smallforce at hand? Inspector Carpenter's name was suggested, for he wasknown to be a man of great resolution and courage, and leadershipnaturally fell to him as one of the oldest and most experiencedmembers of the force. Acton instructed him not only that a battlemust be fought immediately, but also that it MUST be successful. Carpenter listened quietly, comprehending both the peril and thenecessity; then after a moment's hesitation he rose to his fullheight, and with an impressive gesture and a terrible oath said, "I will go, and I'll win that fight, or Daniel Carpenter will nevercome back a live man. " He instantly summoned his insignificant force, and the order, "Fallin, men, " resounded through the street. Merwyn, with a policeman's coat buttoned over his blouse, avowedhis purpose of going with them; and his exploit of the afternoon, witnessed and bruited by members of the force, made his presencewelcome. It was now between five and six in the evening. The air was hotand sultry, and in the west lowered heavy clouds, from which thethunder muttered. Emblematic they seemed to such as heeded them inthe intense excitement. Few in the great city at that hour were so deeply stirred as Merwyn. The tremendous excitements of the day, to which his experience atMr. Vosburgh's residence had chiefly contributed, were cumulativein their effect. Now he had reached the goal of his hope, and hadobtained an opportunity, far beyond his wildest dreams, to redeemhis character from the imputation of cowardice. He was part of thelittle force which might justly be regarded as a "forlorn hope. "The fate of the city depended upon its desperate valor, and no oneknew this better than he, who, from early morning, had witnessed thetiger-spirit of the mob. If the thousands, every minute approachingnearer, should annihilate the handful of men who alone were presentto cope with them, that very night the city would be at the mercyof the infuriated rioters, and not a home would be secure fromoutrage. The column of police was formed scarcely two hundred strong. Merwyn, as a new recruit, was placed in its rear, a position thathe did not mean to keep when the fight should begin. Like theothers, he was armed with a locust-club, but he had two revolverson his person, and these he knew how to use with fatal precision. From an open window Superintendent Acton shouted, "InspectorCarpenter, my orders are, Make no arrests, bring no prisoners, butkill--kill every, time. " It was to be a life-and-death struggle. The mob would have no mercy:the officers of the law were commanded to show none. As Carpenter went forward to the head of his column, his face asdark with his sanguinary puipose as the lowering west, Merwyn sawthat Mr. Vosburgh, quiet and observant, was present. The government officer, with his trained instincts, knew just whereto be, in order to obtain the most vital information. He now joinedMerwyn, and was struck by his extreme pallor, a characteristic ofthe young fellow under extreme emotion. "Mr. Merwyn, " he said, hastily, "you have done enough for twoto-day, You need rest. This is going to be a desperate encounter. " "Forward!" shouted Carpenter. A proud smile lighted up Merwyn's features, as he said: "Good-by. Thank you for such faith as you have had in me;" and he moved offwith the others. Mr. Vosburgh muttered, "I shall see this fight, and I shall solvethat embodied mystery whom we have thought a coward;" and he followedso near as to keep Merwyn under his eye. A black, sulphurous cloud was rising in the west. This littledark blue column approaching from the east, marching down BleeckerStreet, was insignificant in comparison, yet it was infinitely themore dangerous, and charged with forces that would scatter deathand wounds such as the city had never witnessed. No words were spoken by the resolute men. The stony pavementechoed their measured, heavy tread. Turning into Broadway they sawthe enemy but a block and a half away, a howling mob, stretchingnorthward as far as the eye could reach. It was sweeping thethoroughfare, thousands in line. Pedestrians, stages, vehicles ofall kinds, were vanishing down side-streets. Pallid shopkeeperswere closing their stores as sailors take in sail before a cyclone. Carpenter halted his command, and sent small detachments up parallelside-streets, that they might come around and fall upon the flanksof the mob. As these men were moving off on the double-quick, Merwyn left hissquad and said to Carpenter: "I am a citizen, and I stipulated thatI should fight as I chose. I choose to fight with you. " "Well, well, so long as you fight, " was the hasty answer. "You shallhave plenty of it, if you keep near me. " Then he added, sternly:"Mark you, young fellow, if you show the white feather I'll knockyou over myself. Those devils yonder must be taught that the onething this force can't do is run. " "Brain me if I do not do my whole duty, " was the firm reply; andhe took his place at the right of the front rank. A moment later he was startled by Mr. Vosburgh, who seized his handand said, earnestly: "Merwyn, no man ever did a braver thing thanyou are doing now. I can't forgive myself that I wronged you in mythoughts. " "You had reason. I'm doing no better than these other men, and Ihave a thousand-fold their motive. " Then he added, gravely, "I donot think you ought to be here and your daughter alone. " "I know my duty, " was the quiet reply; "and there are those whomust be informed of the issue of this fight as soon as it is over. Once more, farewell, my brave friend;" and he disappeared. Carpenter was holding his force until his flanking detachments shouldreach their co-operative points. When the mob saw the police, itadvanced more slowly, as if it, too, instinctively recognized thatthe supreme crisis was near. In the van of the dense mass a largeboard was borne aloft, inscribed with the words, "No Draft!" andbeside it, in mocking irony, floated the stars and stripes. The hesitation of the rioters was but brief. They mistook theinaction of the few policemen opposed to them for timidity, and theimmense masses behind pushed them forward. Therefore, with a newimpetus, the howling, yelling throng approached, and Merwyn coulddistinguish the features of the liquor-inflamed, maddened faces thatwere already becoming familiar to him. In the sultry July eveningthe greater part of the rioters were in their shirt-sleeves, andthey were armed with every description of weapon, iron bars, clubs, pitchforks, barrel-staves, and not a few with guns and pistols. Carpenter stood out before his men, watching the approach of hisvictims with an expression which only the terrible excitement ofbattle can produce. His men, behind him, were like statues. Suddenlyhis stentorian command rang out, -- "BY THE RIGHT FLANK, COMPANY FRONT! DOUBLE-QUICK! CHARGE!" As if the lever of a powerful engine had been pressed, all clubswere raised aloft, and with swift, even tread the trained, powerfulmen rushed after their leader, who kept several paces ahead. When such a disciplined force, with such a leader, have resolved tofight till they die, their power is not to be estimated by numbers. They smote the astonished van of the mob like a thunderbolt, Carpenterleading by several steps, his face aflame with his desperate resolve. He dealt the first blow, sending down, bleeding and senseless, ahuge ruffian who was rushing upon him with a club. A second laterthe impetuous officer was in the midst of the mob, giving deadlyblows right and left. His men closed up with him instantly, Merwyn being among the firstto reach his side, and for a few moments the thud of clubs on humanskulls was heard above every other sound. Mr. Vosburgh, keeping alittle to the rear on the sidewalk, watched Merwyn, who held hisattention almost equally with the general issues of this decisivebattle. The youth was dealing blows like an athlete, and keepingpace with the boldest. The windows of the buildings on Broadwaywere now crowded by thousands witnessing the conflict, while Mr. Vosburgh, following closely, heard the ominous "sing" of more thanone bullet. The man who had come that day to the protection of hishome and child should not be left to the mercy of strangers, shouldhe fall. To his surprise he soon saw that Merwyn had shifted hisclub to his left hand, and that he was fighting with a revolver. Hewatched the young fellow with renewed interest, and observed thathis aim was as deliberate as it was quick, and that often when hefired some prominent figure in the mob dropped. "By all the powers! if he is not coolly shooting the leaders, andpicking out his man every time!" ejaculated the astonished officer. The police made a clean sweep of the street, and only prostrateforms were left in their rear. Therefore Mr. Vosburgh could almostkeep pace with Merwyn. The rioters soon became appalled at their punishment. Like a darkblue wave, with bloody clubs forming a crimson crest, that unfalteringrank of men steadily advanced and ingulfed them. All within reachwent down. Those of the police who were wounded still fought on, or, if disabled, the ranks closed up, and there was no cessationin the fatal hail of blows. The rioters in front would have givenway, had not the thousands in their rear pressed them forward totheir fate. The judicious Carpenter had provided for this feature of thestrife, for now his detachments were smiting both flanks of thehuman monster with the same terrific vengeance dealt upon its head. The undisciplined herd fought desperately for a time, then gaveway to panic and the wild effort to escape. Long since a policemanhad seized the national flag, and bore it triumphantly with hisleft hand while he fought with his right. The confusion and uproarwere beyond description. The rioters were yelling their conflictingviews as to what ought to be done, while others were shouting tothose in their rear to cease crowding forward. The pressure downBroadway now came from a desire to escape the police. In brief, a large section of the mob was hemmed in, and it surged backwardsand forwards and up against the stores, while hundreds, availingthemselves of the side-streets, ran for their lives. In a veryshort time what had been a compact, threatening mass was flying infragments, as if disrupted by dynamite, but the pursuing clubs ofCarpenter's men never ceased their levelling blows while a rioter'shead was in reach. Far northward the direful tidings of defeatspread through the ragged hosts as yet unharmed, and they meltedaway, to come together again and again during the lurid days andnights which followed. The Gettysburg of the conflict had been fought and won. Unspeakableoutrages and heavy battles were yet to come; but this decisivevictory gave the authorities advantage which they never lost, andtime to organize more effective resistance with the aid of themilitary. The police saved the city. Broadway looked like a battle-field, prostrate forms strewing itscrimsoned pavement throughout the area of the conflict. The majoritywere left where they fell, and were carried off by their friends. As the melee was drawing to a close, Mr. Vosburgh saw Merwyn chasinga man who apparently had had much influence with his associates, and had been among the last to yield. After a brief pursuit theyoung fellow stopped and fired. The man struggled on a few steps, then fell. Merwyn, panting, sat down on the curbstone, and here Mr. Vosburgh joined him with radiant face, exclaiming, as he wrung theyoung man's hand: "I've seen it all, --seen how you smote them hipand thigh. Never has my blood been so stirred. The city is saved. When a mob is thus dealt with it soon gives up. Come, you havedone more than your part. Go with me, and as soon as I have senta despatch about this glorious victory, we'll have supper and alittle rest. " "Impossible, Mr. Vosburgh. The inspector has heard that the mobis sacking the mayor's house, and we have orders to march there atonce. I'll get my wind in a moment. " "But you are not under obligations, in view of all you have done. " "I'm going to see this fight out. If the force were ordered backto headquarters I'd go with you. " "But you will come soon?" "Yes; when the fighting is over for the night I'll bring the latestnews. There, the men are falling in for their march up Broadway, and I must go. " "Well, I congratulate you. No soldier ever won greener laurels inso short a time. What's more, you were cool enough to be one ofthe most effective of the force. I saw you picking off the leaders. Good-by;" and he hastened away, while Merwyn followed Carpenterand the captured flag to a new scene of battle. CHAPTER XLVI. "I HAVE SEEN THAT YOU DETEST ME. " After her father had left her on that eventful afternoon, Marianfelt as if alone in a beleaguered fortress. The familiar streetsin which she had trundled her hoop as a child, and until to-daywalked without fear, were now filled with nameless terrors. She whohad been so bent on going out in the morning would now as readilystroll in a tiger-infested jungle as to venture from her door. Whenmen like her father used such language and took such precautionsas she had anxiously noted, she knew that dangers were manifold andgreat, that she was in the midst of the most ruthless phase of war. But her first excitement had passed, and it had brought her suchlessons that now her chief thought was to retrieve herself. Theone who had dwelt in her mind as so weak and unmanly as to be aconstant cause of irritation had shown himself to be her superior, and might even equal the friends with whom she had been scornfullycontrasting him. That she should have spoken to him and treatedhim as she had done produced boundless self-reproach, while heregregious error in estimating his character was humiliating in thelast degree. "Fool! fool!" she said, aloud, "where was your woman's intuition?" Marian had much warm blood in her veins and fire in her spirit, andon provocation could become deeply incensed at others, as we haveseen; but so devoid of petty vanity was she that she could be almostequally angry at herself. She did not share her father's confidencethat Merwyn would relent under a few smiles, for she knew how deeplyshe had wounded and wronged him, and she believed that he possessed awill as steadfast as fate. The desire to test her father's theory, the hope to atone for her wrong judgment, grew so strong and absorbingas to make the awful fact of the riot secondary in her thoughts. To get through the hours she felt that she must keep incessantlybusy. She first went to her own room, packed valuables and jewelsin a convenient form to carry if there should be cause for a hastyexit, then concealed them. Going to her mother's and father's room, she acted in view of the same possible necessity, all the whilecarrying on the distinct process of thought in regard to Merwyn, dwelling on their past relations, but above all questioning hiscourse when they should meet again. Suddenly she reproached herself with forgetfulness of Mammy Borden. True, not much time had passed; but the poor creature, after whatshe had heard, should be reassured frequently. She went to the atticroom, but it was empty. On inspection it became evident that thecolored woman had made up her little bundle and departed. Callingas she went down through the house, Marian reached the basementand saw that its door had been unfastened. "She has gone to join her son, " said the girl, as she hastilyrebolted and barred the door. "Oh what awful imprudence! Perhapsshe also wished to relieve us of the danger of her presence. Well, I am now alone in very truth. I could now give Mr. Merwyn a verydifferent reception. He and papa will be here soon perhaps. Oh, Iwish I knew how to make coffee, but I can't even kindle a fire inthe range. I have proved myself to-day a fine subject for a soldier. My role is to listen, in elegant costume, to heroic deeds, andto become almost hysterical in the first hour of battle. O 'MissyS'wanee, ' I make a sorry figure beside you, facing actual war andcheering on your friends!" Thus she passed the time in varied and bitter soliloquy whileputting the kitchen and closets in order, and in awkward attemptsto remove the debris of the last fire from the range. The gas gavelight for her efforts, for the closed shutters darkened the apartment. She was startled by a tap at the door. "Well?" she faltered, after a moment's hesitation. "'Gettysburg and Little Round Top, '" was the response. "Mr. Vosburgh is out, and left word that you should linger neartill he returned and then come again. " "I cannot do that. It would not be safe for either him or me. Hedoes not realize. Can you be trusted?" "I am his daughter. " "Say, then, terrible work up town. The orphan asylum sacked andburned. Many private residences also. The mob having its own way. A crowd is coming, and I must not be seen here. Will be back to-nightif possible;" and the unseen communicator of dismal intelligencewent westward with hasty steps. Marian trembled as she heard the confused, noisy tread of many feet. Hastening to the second story, she peeped through the blinds, andshuddered as she saw a fragment of the mob which had been defeatedon Broadway, returning to their haunts on the west side. Baffledand infuriated, they made the street echo with their obscene wordsand curses. Her heart almost stood still as they approached herdoor, and with white, compressed lips she grasped her revolver;but the rioters passed on like a flock of unclean birds, and thestreet became quiet again. She was now so anxious about her father that she maintained herposition of observation. The coming storm lowering in the westoppressed her with its terrible symbolism. Already the street wasdarkening, while from other parts of the city came strange sounds. "Oh, if papa should never come back, --if the mob should have itsown way everywhere! To think of staying here alone to-night! WouldHE come again after my treatment this morning?" She was aroused from her deep and painful revery by a knocking onthe basement door. Hastening down she was overjoyed to hear herfather's voice, and when he entered she clung to him, and kissed himwith such energy that his heavy beard came off, and his disguisingwig was all awry. "O papa!" she cried, "I'm so glad you are back safe! A body ofrioters passed through the street, and the thought of your fallinginto such hands sickened me with fear;" and then she breathlesslytold him of all that had occurred, and of Mammy Borden's disappearance. He reassured her gently, yet strongly, and her quick ear caughtthe ring of truth in his words. "I, too, have much to tell you, " he said, "and much to do; so wemust talk as we work. First help me to unpack and put away theseprovisions. This evening I must get a stout German woman that Iknow of to help you. You must not be left alone again, and I haveanother plan in mind for our safety. I think the worst is over, butit is best not to entertain a sense of false security for a momentin these times. The mob has been thoroughly whipped on Broadway. I'll tell you all about it after we have had a good cup of coffeeand a little supper. Now that there is a respite I find I'm almostfaint myself from reaction and fatigue. " "Have you seen--do you think Mr. Merwyn will be here again?" "I've seen him, and so have others, to their sorrow. 'Coward, 'indeed!" He threw back his head and laughed. "I only wish I had aregiment of such cowards, and I could abolish the mob in twenty-fourhours. But I'll tell you the whole story after supper is ready, andwill show how quickly a soldier can get up a meal in an emergency. You must go into training as a commissary at once. " Her father seemed so genuinely hopeful and elated that Marian caughthis spirit and gave every faculty to the task of aiding him. Nowthat he was with her, all fears and forebodings passed; the nearerroll of the thunder was unheeded except as it called out the remark, "It will be too bad if Mr. Merwyn is out in the storm. " Again her father laughed, as he said, "All the thunder gusts thathave raged over the city are nothing to the storm which Merwyn hasjust faced. " "O papa, you make me half wild with curiosity and impatience. MustI wait until the coffee boils?" "No, " was the still laughing reply. "What is more, you shall haveanother surprising experience; you shall eat your supper--for thefirst time, I imagine--in the kitchen. It will save time and trouble, and some of my agents may appear soon. Well, well, all has turnedout, so far, better than I ever hoped. I have been able to keeptrack of all the most important movements; I have seen a decisivebattle, and have sent intelligence of everything to Washington. A certain man there cannot say that I have failed in my duty, unexpected and terrible as has been the emergency. By morning themilitary from the forts in the harbor will be on hand. One or twomore such victories, and this dragon of a mob will expire. " "Papa, should not something be done to find and protect MammyBorden?" "Yes, as soon as possible; but we must make sure that the city'ssafe, and our own lives secure before looking after one poor creature. She has undoubtedly gone to her son, as you suggest. After such ascare as she has had she will keep herself and him out of sight. They are both shrewd and intelligent for their race, and will, nodoubt, either hide or escape from the city together. Rest assuredshe went out heavily veiled and disguised. She would have saidgood-by had she not feared you would detain her, and, as you say, her motive was probably twofold. She saw how she endangered us, and, mother-like, she was determined to be with her son. " "Come, papa, the coffee's boiled, and supper, such as it is, is onthe table. Hungry as I am, I cannot eat till you have told me all. " "All about the fight?" "Yes, and--and--Well, what part did Mr. Merwyn take in it?" "Ah, now I am to recite MY epic. How all is changed since Blauveltkindled your eyes and flushed your cheeks with the narration ofheroic deeds! Then we heard of armies whose tread shook the continent, and whose guns have echoed around the world. Men, already historicfor all time, were the leaders, and your soldier friends were cladin a uniform which distinguished them as the nation's defenders. My humble hero had merely an ill-fitting policeman's coat buttonedover his soiled, ragged blouse. Truly it is fit that I should recitehis deeds in a kitchen and not in a library. When was the heroicpoliceman sung in homeric verse before? When--" "O papa, papa! don't tantalize me. You cannot belittle this struggleor its consequences. Our enemies are at our very doors, and theyare not soldiers. I would rather face scalping Indians than thewretches that I saw an hour since. If Merwyn will do a man's partto quell this mob I shall feel honored by his friendship. But henever will forgive me, never, never. " "We'll see about that, " was Mr. Vosburgh's smiling reply. Then hisface became grave, and he said: "You are right, Marian. The ruffianswho filled the streets to-day, and who even now are plundering andburning in different parts of the city, are not soldiers. They areas brutal as they are unscrupulous and merciless. I can only tellyou what has occurred in brief outline, for the moment I am a littlerested and have satisfied hunger I must be at work. " He then rapidly narrated how Merwyn had been brought in at policeheadquarters with one of the leaders of the riot whom he had beguiledand helped to capture. A graphic account of the battle followed, closing with the fact that he had left the "coward" marching upBroadway to engage in another fight. The girl listened with pale cheeks and drooping head. "He will never forgive me, " she murmured; "I've wronged him toodeeply. " "Be ready to give him a generous cup of coffee and a good supper, "her father replied. "Men are animals, even when heroes, and Merwynwill be in a condition to bless the hand that feeds him to-night. Now I must carry out my plans with despatch. Oh, there is therain. Good. Torrents, thunder, and lightning will keep away moredangerous elements. Although I have but a slight acquaintancewith the Erkmanns, whose yard abuts upon ours, I hope, before theevening is over, to have a door cut in the fence between us, anda wire stretched from our rear windows to theirs. It will be forour mutual safety. If attacked we can escape through their houseor they through ours. I'll put on my rubber suit and shall not begone long now at any one time. You can admit Merwyn or any of myagents who give the password. Keep plenty of coffee and your owncourage at boiling-point. You will next hear from me at our backdoor. " In less than half an hour she again admitted her father, who said:"It's all arranged. I have removed a couple of boards so that theycan be replaced by any one who passes through the opening. I havesome fine wire which I will now stretch from my library to Mr. Erkmann's sleeping-apartment. " When he again entered the house two of his agents whom Marian hadadmitted were present, dripping wet, hungry, and weary. They hadcome under cover of the storm and darkness. While they gave theirreports Mr. Vosburgh made them take a hearty supper, and Marianwaited on them with a grace that doubled their incentive to servetheir chief. But more than once she sighed, "Merwyn does not come. " Then the thought flashed upon her: "Perhaps he cannot come. He maybe battered and dying in the muddy streets. " The possibility of this made her so ill and faint that she hastilyleft the apartment and went up to the darkened drawing-room, whereher father found her a moment later seeking to stifle her sobs. "Why, Marian, darling, you who have kept up so bravely are notgoing to give way now. " "I'm not afraid for myself, " she faltered, "but Mr. Merwyn does notcome. You said he was marching to another fight. He may be wounded;he may be--" her voice fell to a whisper--"he may be dead. " "No, Marian, " replied her father, confidently, "that young fellowhas a future. He is one of those rare spirits which a period likethis develops, and he'll take no common part in it. He has probablygone to see if his own home is safe. Now trust God and be a soldier, as you promised. " "I couldn't bear to have anything happen to him and I have no chanceto make amends, to show I am not so weak and silly as I appearedthis morning. " "Then let him find you strong and self-controlled when he appears. Come down now, for I must question my agents while they are yet atsupper; then I must go out, and I'll leave them for your protectiontill I return. " He put his arm about her, and led her to the stairway, meanwhilethinking, "A spell is working now which she soon will have torecognize. " By the time his agents had finished their meal, Mr. Vosburgh hadcompleted his examination of them and made his notes. He then placeda box of cigars on the table, instructed them about admitting Merwynshould he come, and with his daughter went up to the library, wherehe wrote another long despatch. "After sending this, " he said, "and getting the woman I spoke of, I will not leave you again to-night, unless there should be veryurgent necessity. You can sit in the darkened front room, and watchtill either I or Merwyn returns. " This she did and listened breathlessly. The rain continued to pour in torrents, and the lightning wasstill so vivid as to blind her eyes at times, while the crashes ofthunder often drowned the roar of the unquiet city; but undaunted, tearless, motionless, she watched the deserted street and listenedfor the footfall of one whom she had long despised, as she hadassured herself. An hour passed. The storm was dying away, and still he did notcome. "Alas!" she sighed, "he is wounded; if not by the rabble, certainly by me. I know now what it has cost him to be thought acoward for months, and must admit that I don't understand him atall. How vividly come back the words he spoke last December, 'Whatis the storm, and what the danger, to that which I am facing?'What was he facing? What secret and terrible burden has he carriedpatiently through all my coldness and scorn? Oh, why was I such anidiot as to offend him mortally just as he was about to retrievehimself and render papa valuable assistance, --worse still, when hecame to my protection!" The gloomy musings were interrupted by the sound of a carriagedriven rapidly up town in a neighboring street. It stopped at thecorner to the east, and a man alighted and came towards the Vosburghresidence. A moment later Marian whispered, excitedly, "It's Mr. Merwyn. " He approached slowly and she thought warily, and began mountingthe steps. "Is it Mr. Merwyn?;" she called. "Yes. " "I will admit you at the basement door;" and she hastened down. She meant to give her hand, to speak in warm eulogy of his action, but his pale face and cold glance as he entered chilled her. Shefelt tongue-tied in the presence of the strangers who sat near thetable smoking. Merwyn started slightly on seeing them, and then she explained, hastily, "These gentlemen are assisting my father in a way youunderstand. " He bowed to them, then sank into a chair, as if too weary to stand. "Mr. Merwyn, " she began, eagerly, "let me make you some fresh coffee. That on the range is warm, but it has stood some little time. " "Please do not take the slightest trouble, " he said, decidedly. "That now ready will answer. Indeed, I would prefer it to waiting. I regret exceedingly that Mr. Vosburgh is not at home, for I amtoo exhausted to wait for him. Can I not help myself?" and he roseand approached the range. "Not with my permission, " she replied, with a smile, but he didnot observe it. She stole shy glances at him as she prepared thecoffee. Truly, as he sat, drooping in his chair, wet, ragged, andbegrimed, he presented anything but the aspect of a hero. Yet assuch he appeared in her eyes beyond all other men whom she had everseen. She said, gently: "Let me put the coffee on the table, and get yousome supper. You must need it sorely. " "No, I thank you. I could not eat anything to-night;" and he roseand took the coffee from her hand, and drank it eagerly. He thensaid, "I will thank you for a little more. " With sorrow she noted that he did not meet her eyes or relax hisdistant manner. "I wish you could wait until papa returns, " she said, almostentreatingly, as she handed him a second cup. "I hope Mr. Vosburgh will pardon my seeming lack of courtesy, andthat you will also, gentlemen. It has been a rather long, hard day, and I find that I have nearly reached the limit of my powers. " Witha short, grim laugh, he added: "I certainly am not fit to remainin the presence of a lady. I suppose, Miss Vosburgh, I may reportwhat little I have to say in the presence of these gentlemen? Iwould write it out if I could, but I cannot to-night. " "I certainly think you may speak freely before these gentlemen, "was her reply. "Mr. Vosburgh trusts us implicitly, and I think we are deservingof it, " said one of the agents. "Why need you go out again when you are so weary?" Marian asked. "I am expecting papa every moment, and I know he would like you tostay with him. " "That would be impossible. Besides, I have some curiosity to learnwhether I have a home left. My report in brief amounts to littlemore than this. Soon after our return from the mayor's residence onBroadway we were ordered down to Printing-House Square. Intelligencethat an immense mob was attacking the Tribune Office had beenreceived. Our hasty march thither, and the free use of the club onour arrival, must account for my present plight. You see, gentlemen, that I am not a veteran, only a raw recruit. In a day or twoI shall be more seasoned to the work. You may say to your father, Miss Vosburgh, that the mob had been broken before we arrived. Wemet them on their retreat across City-Hall Park, and nothing wasleft for us but the heavy, stupid work of knocking a good many ofthe poor wretches on the head. Such fighting makes me sick; yet itis imperative, no doubt. Inspector Carpenter is at City Hall witha large force, and the rioters are thoroughly dispersed. I thinkthe lower part of the city will be quiet for the night. " "You were wise, Mr. Merwyn, to ride up town, " said Marian, gravely. "I know well that you have been taxed to-day beyond the strengthof any veteran. " "How did you know that I rode up town?" "I was watching for papa, and saw you leave your carriage. " "I could never have reached home had I not secured a cab, and thatreminds me that it is waiting around the corner; at least, thedriver promised to wait. I shall now say good-night. Oh, by theway, in the press of other things I forgot to say that Mrs. Gheganreached her husband, and that her good nursing, with surgical help, will probably save his life. " Bowing to the agents, who had been listening and watching him withgreat curiosity, he turned to the door. Marian opened it for him, and, stepping out into the dusky area, said, "I see that you do not forgive me. " "And I have seen, to-day, Miss Vosburgh, that you detest me. Youshowed the truth plainly when off your guard. Your own pride andsense of justice may lead you to seek to make amends for an errorin your estimate of me. Having convinced you that I am not a coward, I have accomplished all that I can hope for, and I'm in no mood forhollow courtesies. I shall do everything in my power to aid yourfather until the trouble is over or I am disabled, and then willannoy you no more. Good-night;" and he strode away, with a firm, rapid step, proving that his pride for a moment had mastered hisalmost mortal weariness. Marian returned to her post in the second story to watch for herfather, her ears tingling, and every faculty confused, while excited, by the words Merwyn had spoken. He had revealed his attitude towardsher clearly, and, as she grew calmer, she saw it was not a merequestion of the offence she had given him that morning which she hadto face, but rather a deep-rooted conviction that he was personallydetested. "If he knew how far this is from the truth NOW!" she thought, witha smile. Then the query presented itself: "How far is it from the truth? Whyam I thinking more of him than of the riot, our danger, yes, evenmy father?" In the light of that lurid day much had been revealed to her, andbefore her revery ceased she understood her long months of irritationand anger at Merwyn's course; she saw why she had not dismissed himfrom her thoughts with contemptuous indifference and why she hadingeniously wrought the MacIan theory of constitutional timidity. When had she given so much thought to a man whom she had disliked?Even in her disapproval of him, even when her soldier friendsappeared at their best and she was contrasting him with them to hisfatal disadvantage as she believed, thoughts of him would pursueher constantly. Now that he had shown himself the peer of each andall in manhood and courage, it seemed as if feelings, long heldin check, were released and were sweeping irresistibly towards oneconclusion. Merwyn was more to her than any other man in the world. He had fulfilled her ideal, and was all the more attractive becausehe was capable of such deep, strong passion, and yet could be soresolute and cool. "But how can I ever undeceive him?" was her most perplexing thought. "I cannot make advances. Well, well, the future must disentangleitself. " Now that she was beginning to understand herself, every instinctof her being led towards reserve. In a misunderstanding with hersoldier friends she could easily and frankly effect a reconciliation, but she must be dumb with Merwyn, and distant in manner, to thedegree that she was self-conscious. Suddenly she became aware that it was growing late, and that herfather had not returned, and for the next hour she suffered terriblyfrom anxiety, as did many women in those days of strange vicissitudes. At last, a little before midnight, he came, looking stern andanxious. "I will soon explain, " he said to her. "Take this womanto her room. " Then, to his aroused and sleepy agents: "You have hadsome rest and respite. Go to the nearest hotel and take a littlemore, but be up with the dawn and do your best, for to-morrowpromises to be worse than to-day. " With a few further instructions he dismissed them. Upon reaching the library he said to his daughter: "I've been ata conference in which the police, military, and state authoritiestook part, and things look gloomy. I have also sent furtherdespatches. My dear child, I wish you were with your mother, butI'm too weary to think any more to-night. " "Papa, the question of my remaining has been settled. Now rest. Mr. Merwyn came and brought good news. " "Yes, I know all about it. Why did he not stay?" "He naturally wished to return and look after his own home. " "True enough. I hope he found it unharmed. He has proved himself agrand, brave fellow to-day, and I only wish it was my privilege tofight at his side. It would be far easier than to carry my burden. " "Not another perplexing thought to-night, papa. " "Well, Marian, I must have some sleep, to be equal to to-morrow. Youmust obey orders and sleep also. I shall not take off my clothes, and shall be ready for any emergency; and do you also sleep in yourwrapper. " He kissed her fondly, but with heavy eyes. CHAPTER XLVII. A FAIR FRIEND AND FOUL FOES. THE reader has already discovered that I have not attempted anythingapproaching a detailed history of the dreadful days of the riot. I merely hope to give a somewhat correct impression of the hopes, fears, and passions which swayed men's minds and controlledor directed their action. Many of the scenes are too horrible tobe described, and much else relating to the deeds and policy ofrecognized leaders belongs to the sober page of history. The citywas in awful peril, and its destruction would have crippled thegeneral government beyond all calculation. Unchecked lawlessnessin New York would soon have spread to other centres. That cool, impartial historian, the Comte de Paris, recognized the danger inhis words: "Turbulent leaders were present in the large cities ofthe East, which contained all the elements for a terrible insurrection. This insurrection was expected to break out in New York, despiteLee's defeat: one may judge what it might have been had Lee achieveda victory. " With the best intentions the administration had committed many graveerrors, --none more so, perhaps, than that of ordering the draft tobe inaugurated at a time when the city was stripped of its militia. Now, however, it only remained for the police and a few hundredsof the military to cope with the result of that error, --a recklessmob of unnumbered thousands, governed by the instinct to plunderand destroy. When the sun dawned in unclouded splendor on the morning of the14th of July, a superficial observer, passing through the greaterpart of the city, would not have dreamed that it could become abattle-ground, a scene of unnumbered and untold outrages, duringthe day. It was hard for multitudes of citizens, acquainted withwhat had already taken place, to believe in the continuance ofsuch lawlessness. In large districts there was an effort to carryon business as usual. In the early hours vehicles of every kindrattled over the stony pavement, and when at last Merwyn awoke, the sounds that came through his open windows were so natural thatthe events of the preceding day seemed but a distorted dream. Thestern realities of the past and the future soon confronted him, however, and he rang and ordered breakfast at once. Hastily disguising himself as he had done before, he again summonedhis faithful servant. This man's vigilance had enabled him toadmit his master instantly the night before. Beyond the assurancethat all was well and safe Merwyn had not then listened to a word, yielding to the imperative craving for sleep and rest. These, with youth and the vigor of a strong, unvitiated constitution, hadrestored him wonderfully, and he was eager to enter on the perilsand duties of the new day. His valet and man-of-all-work told himthat he had been at pains to give the impression that the familywas away and the house partially dismantled. "It wouldn't pay ye, " he had said to a band of plunderers, "to botherwith the loikes of this house when there's plenty all furnished. " With injunctions to maintain his vigilance and not to be surprisedif Merwyn's absence was prolonged, the young man hastened away, paving no heed to entreaties to remain and avoid risks. It was still early, but the uneasy city was waking, and the streetswere filling with all descriptions of people. Thousands wereescaping to the country; thousands more were standing in their doorsor moving about, seeking to satisfy their curiosity; while in thedisaffected districts on the east and the west side the hosts ofthe mob were swarming forth for the renewal of the conflict, nowinspired chiefly by the hope of plunder. Disquiet, anxiety, fear, anger, and recklessness characterized different faces, accordingto the nature of their possessors; but as a rule even the mostdesperate of the rioters were singularly quiet except when underthe dominion of some immediate and exciting influence. In order to save time, Merwyn had again hired a hack, and, seatedwith the driver, he proceeded rapidly, first towards the EastRiver, and then, on another street, towards the Hudson. His eyes, already experienced, saw on every side the promise of another bloodyday. He was stopped and threatened several times, for the rioterswere growing suspicious, fully aware that detectives were amongthem, but he always succeeded in giving some plausible excuse. Atlast, returning from the west side, the driver refused to carryhim any longer, and gave evidence of sympathy with the mob. Merwyn quietly showed him the butt of a revolver, and said, "Youwill drive till I dismiss you. " The man yielded sullenly, and Merwyn alighted near Mr. Vosburgh'sresidence, saying to his Jehu, "Your course lies there, " pointingeast, --and he rapidly turned a corner. As Merwyn had surmised, the man wheeled his horses with the purposeof following and learning his destination. Observing this eagerquest he sprung out upon him from a doorway and said, "If you trythat again I'll shoot you as I would a dog. " The fellow now tookcounsel of discretion. Going round the block to make sure he was not observed, Merwynreached the residence of Mr. Vosburgh just as that gentleman wasrising from his breakfast, and received a cordial welcome. "Why, Merwyn, " he exclaimed, "you look as fresh as a June daisythis morning. " The young fellow had merely bowed to Marian, and now said, "Icannot wonder at your surprise, remembering the condition in whichI presented myself last night. " "Condition? I do not understand. " Marian laughed, as she said: "Papa came in about midnight in scarcelybetter plight. In brief, you were both exhausted, and with goodreason. " "But you did not tell me, Marian--" "No, " she interrupted; "nothing but a life-and-death emergencyshould have made me tell you anything last night. " "Why, our little girl is becoming a soldier and a strategist. I think you had better make your report over again, Mr. Merwyn;"and he drew out a fuller account of events than had been giventhe evening before, also the result of the young man's morningobservations. Marian made no effort to secure attention beyond offering Merwyna cup of coffee. "I have breakfasted, " he said, coldly. "Take it, Merwyn, take it, " cried Mr. Vosburgh. "Next to courage, nothing keeps up a soldier better than coffee. According to yourown view we have another hard day before us. " Merwyn complied, and bowed his thanks. "Now for plans, " resumed Mr. Vosburgh. "Are you going to policeheadquarters again?" "Direct from here. " "I shall be there occasionally, and if you learn anything important, leave me a note. If I am not there and you can get away, come here. Of course I only ask this as of a friend and loyal man. You cansee how vitally important it is that the authorities at Washingtonshould be informed. They can put forth vast powers, and will do soas the necessity is impressed upon them. If we can only hold ourown for a day or two the city will be full of troops. Thereforeremember that in aiding me you are helping the cause even morethan by fighting with the best and bravest, as you did yesterday. You recognize this fact, do you not? I am not laying any constrainton you contrary to your sense of duty and inclination. " "No, sir, you are not. I should be dull indeed did I not perceivethat you are burdened with the gravest responsibilities. Whatis more, your knowledge guides, in a measure, the strong nationalhand, and I now believe we shall need its aid. " "That's it, that's the point. Therefore you can see why I am eagerto secure the assistance of one who has the brains to appreciatethe fact so quickly and fully. Moreover, you are cool, and seem tounderstand the nature of this outbreak as if you had made a studyof the mobs. " "I have, and I have been preparing for this one, for I knew thatit would soon give me a chance to prove that I was not a coward. " Marian's cheeks crimsoned. "No more of that, if you please, " said Mr. Vosburgh, gravely. "Whileit is natural that you should feel strongly, you must rememberthat both I and my daughter have asked your pardon, and that youyourself admitted that we had cause for misjudging you. We havebeen prompt to make amends, and I followed you through yesterday'sfight at some risk to see that you did not fall into the hands ofstrangers, if wounded. I could have learned all about the fightat a safer distance. You are now showing the best qualities of asoldier. Add to them a soldier's full and generous forgiveness whena wrong is atoned for, --an unintentional wrong at that. We trustyou implicitly as a man of honor, but we also wish to work withyou as a friend. " Mr. Vosburgh spoke with dignity, and the young fellow's face flushedunder the reproof in his tone. "I suppose I have become morbid on the subject, " he said, with someembarrassment. "I now ask your pardon, and admit that the expressionwas in bad taste, to say the least. " "Yes, it was, in view of the evident fact that we now esteem andhonor you as a brave man. I would not give you my hand in friendshipand trust concerning matters vital to me were this not so. " Merwyn took the proffered hand with a deep flush of pleasure. "Having learned the bitterness of being misjudged, " said Marian, quietly, "Mr. Merwyn should be careful how he misjudges others. " "That's a close shot, Merwyn, " said Mr. Vosburgh, laughing. Their guest started and bent a keen glance on the girl's averted face, and then said, earnestly: "Miss Vosburgh, your father has spokenfrankly to me and I believe him. Your words, also, are significantif they mean anything whatever. I know well what is beforeme to-day, --the chances of my never seeing you again. I can onlymisjudge you in one respect. Perhaps I can best make everythingclear to your father as well as yourself by a single question. IfI do my duty through these troubles, Mr. Vosburgh being the judge, can you give me some place among those friends who have already, and justly, won your esteem? I know it will require time. I havegiven you far more cause for offence than you have given me, but Iwould be glad to fight to-day with the inspiration of hope ratherthan that of recklessness. " Her lip trembled as she faltered: "You would see that you havesuch a place already were you not equally prone to misjudge. Do youthink me capable of cherishing a petty spite after you had provedyourself the peer of my other friends?" "That I have not done, and I fear I never can. You have seen thatI have been under a strong restraint which is not removed and whichI cannot explain. To wear, temporarily, a policeman's uniform isprobably the best I can hope for. " "I was thinking of men, Mr. Merwyn, not uniforms. I have nothingwhatever to do with the restraint to which you refer. If my fathertrusts you, I can. Do not think of me so meanly as to believe Icannot give honest friendship to the man who is risking his lifeto aid my father. Last evening you said I had been off my guard. I must and will say, in self-defence, that if you judge me by thathour of weakness and folly you misjudge me. " "Then we can be friends, " he said, holding out his hand, his facefull of the sunshine of gladness. "Why not?" she replied, laughing, and taking his hand, --"that is, on condition that there is no more recklessness. " Mr. Vosburgh rose and said, with a smile: "Now that there is completeamity in the camp we will move on the enemy. I shall go with you, Merwyn, to police-headquarters;" and he hastily began his preparation. Left alone with Marian a moment, Merwyn said, "You cannot know howyour words have changed everything for me. " "I fear the spirit of the rioters is unchanged, and that you areabout to incur fearful risks. " "I shall meet them cheerfully, for I have been under a thick cloudtoo long not to exult in a little light at last. " "Ready?" said Mr. Vosburgh. Again Merwyn took her hand and looked at her earnestly as he said, "Good-by, Heaven bless you, whatever happens to me;" and he wonderedat the tears that came into her eyes. Making their way through streets which were now becoming thronged, Mr. Vosburgh and Merwyn reached police headquarters without detention. They found matters there vastly changed for the better: thewhole police force well in hand; and General Harvey Brown, a mostcapable officer, in command of several hundred soldiers. Moreover, citizens, in response to a call from the mayor, were being enrolledin large numbers as special policemen. Merwyn was welcomed by his oldcompanions under the command of Inspector Carpenter, and providedwith a badge which would indicate that he now belonged to the policeforce. Telegrams were pouring in announcing trouble in different sections. Troops were drawn up in line on Mulberry Street, ready for instantaction, and were harangued by their officers in earnest words whichwere heeded and obeyed, for the soldiers vied with the police incourage and discipline. Soon after his arrival Merwyn found himself marching with a forceof policemen two hundred and fifty strong, led by Carpenter andfollowed by a company of the military. The most threatening gatheringswere reported to be in Second and Third Avenues. The former thoroughfare, when entered, was seen to be filled as faras the eye could reach, the number of the throng being estimatedat not less than ten thousand. At first this host was comparativelyquiet, apparently having no definite purpose or recognized leaders. Curiosity accounted for the presence of many, the hope of plunderfor that of more; but there were hundreds of ferocious-looking menwho thirsted for blood and lawless power. A Catholic priest, tohis honor be it said, had addressed the crowd and pleaded for peaceand order; but his words, although listened to respectfully, weresoon forgotten. What this section of the mob, which was now musteringin a score of localities, would have done first it is impossibleto say; for as it began to be agitated with passion, ready toprecipitate its brutal force on any object that caught its attention, the cry, "Cops and soldiers coming, " echoed up the avenue fromblock to block, a long, hoarse wave of sound. Carpenter, with his force, marched quietly through the crowd from21st to 32d Street, paying no heed to the hootings, yells, and vileepithets that were hurled from every side. Dirty, ragged women, with dishevelled hair and bloated faces, far exceeded the men in theuse of Billingsgate; and the guardians of the law, as they passedthrough those long lines of demoniacal visages, scowling with hate, and heard their sulphurous invectives, saw what would be their fateif overpowered. It was a conflict having all the horrors of Indianwarfare, as poor Colonel O'Brien, tortured to death through thelong hot afternoon of that same day, learned in agony. The mob in the street had not ventured on anything more offensivethan jeers and curses, but when Carpenter's command reached 32dStreet it was assailed in a new and deadly manner. Rioters, wellprovided with stones and brick-bats, had stationed themselves on theroofs, and, deeming themselves secure, began to rain the missileson the column below, which formed but too conspicuous a mark. Thiswas a new and terrible danger which Merwyn had not anticipated, andhe wondered how Carpenter would meet the emergency. Comrades werefalling around him, and a stone grazed his shoulder which wouldhave brained him had it struck his head. Their leader never hesitated a moment. The command, "Halt, chargethose houses, brain every devil that resists, " rang down the line. The crowd on the sidewalk gave way before the deeply incensed andresolute officers of the law. Merwyn, with a half-dozen others, seized a heavy pole which had been cut down in order to destroytelegraphic communication, and, using it as a ram, crashed in thedoor of a tall tenement-house on the roof of which were a score ofrioters, meantime escaping their missiles as by a miracle. Rushingin, paying no heed to protests, and clubbing those who resisted, hekept pace with the foremost. In his left hand, however, he carriedhis trusty revolver, for he did not propose to be assassinated byskulkers in the dark passage-ways. Seeing a man levelling a gunfrom a dusky corner, he fired instantly, and man and gun dropped. As the guardians of the law approached the scuttle, having foughttheir way thither, the ruffians stood ready to hurl down bricks, torn from the chimneys; but two or three well-aimed shots clearedthe way, and the policemen were on the roof, bringing down a manwith every blow. One brawny fellow rushed upon Merwyn, but receivedsuch a stroke on his temple that he fell, rolled off the roof, andstruck the pavement, a crushed and shapeless mass. The assaults upon the other houses were equally successful, butthe fight was a severe one, and was maintained for nearly an hour. The mob was appalled by the fate of their friends, and looked onin sullen, impotent anger. Having cleared the houses, the police re-formed in the street, andmarched away to other turbulent districts. Only the military were left, and had formed about a block furtherto the north. Beyond the feeble demonstration of the invalid corpsthe rioters, as yet, had had no experience with the soldiery. Thatpolicemen would use their clubs was to them a matter of course, butthey scarcely believed that cannon and musketry would be employed. Moreover, they were maddened and reckless that so many of theirbest and bravest had been put hors de combat. The brief paralysiscaused by the remorseless clubs of the police passed, and likea sluggish monster, the mob, aroused to sudden fury, pressed uponthe soldiery, hurling not only the vilest epithets but every missileon which they could lay their hands. Colonel O'Brien, in commandfor the moment, rode through the crowd, supposing he could overawethem by his fearless bearing; but they only scoffed at him, andthe attack upon his men grew more bold and reckless. The limit of patience was passed. "Fire!" he thundered, and thehowitzers poured their deadly canister point-blank into the throng. At the same time the soldiers discharged their muskets. Not onlymen, but women fell on every side, one with a child in her arms. A warfare in which women stand an equal chance for death and woundsis a terrible thing, and yet this is usually an inseparable featureof mob-fighting. However, setting aside the natural and instinctivehorror at injuring a woman, the depraved creatures in the streetswere deserving of no more sympathy than their male abettors inevery species of outrage. They did their utmost to excite and keepalive the passions of the hour. Many were armed with knives, anddid not hesitate to use them, and when stronger hands broke in thedoors of shops and dwellings they swarmed after, --the most greedyand unscrupulous of plunderers. If a negro man, woman, or childfell into their hands, none were more brutal than the unsexed hagsof the mob. If on this, and other occasions, they had remained in their homesthey would not have suffered, nor would the men have been soferocious in their violence. They were the first to yield to panic, however, and now their shrieks were the loudest and their effortsto escape out of the deadly range of the guns the most frantic. In a few moments the avenue was cleared, and the military marchedaway, leaving the dead and wounded rioters where they had fallen, as the police had done before. Instantly the friends of the sufferersgathered them up and carried them into concealment. This feature, from the first, was one of the most markedcharacteristics of the outbreak. The number of rioters killed andwounded could be only guessed at approximately, for every effortwas made to bury the bodies secretly, and keep the injured inseclusion until they either died or recovered. Almost before a fightwas over the prostrate rioters would be spirited away by friendsor relatives on the watch. The authorities were content to have it so, for they had no placeor time for the poor wretches, and the police understood that theywere to strike blows that would incapacitate the recipients forfurther mischief. In the same locality which had witnessed his morning fight, ColonelO'Brien, later in the day, met a fate too horrible to be described. CHAPTER XLVIII. DESPERATE FIGHTING. HAVING again reached police headquarters, Merwyn rested but a shorttime and then joined a force of two hundred men under InspectorDilkes, and returned to the same avenue in which he had alreadyincurred such peril. The mob, having discovered that it must copewith the military as well as the police, became eager to obtainarms. It so happened that several thousand carbines were stored ina wire factory in Second Avenue, and the rioters had learned thefact. Therefore they swarmed thither, forced an entrance, and beganto arm themselves and their comrades. A despatch to headquartersannounced the attack at its commencement, and the force we havenamed was sent off in hot haste to wrest from the mob the meansof more effective resistance. Emerging into the avenue from 21stStreet, Dilkes found the thoroughfare solid with rioters, who, insteadof giving way, greeted the police with bitter curses. Hesitatingnot a moment on account of vast inequality of numbers, the leaderformed his men and charged. The mob had grown reckless with everyhour, and it now closed on the police with the ferocity of a wildbeast. A terrible hand-to-hand conflict ensued, and Merwyn foundhimself warding off and giving blows with the enemy so near thathe could almost feel their hot, tainted breath on his cheek, whilehorrid visages inflamed with hate and fury made impressions on hismind that could not easily pass away. It was a close, desperateencounter, and the scorching July sun appeared to kindle passionon either side into tenfold intensity. While the police weredisciplined men, obeying every order and doing nothing at random, they WERE men, and they would not have been human if anger andthoughts of vengeance had not nerved their arms as they struck downruffians who would show no more mercy to the wounded or capturedthan would a man-eating tiger. Since the mob would not give way, the police cut a bloody paththrough the throng, and forced their way like a wedge to the factory. Their orders were to capture all arms; and when a rioter was seenwith a carbine or a gun of any kind, one or more of the police wouldrush out of the ranks and seize it, then fight their way back. By the time they reached the factory so many of the mob hadbeen killed or wounded, and so many of their leaders were dead ordisabled, that it again yielded to panic and fled. One desperateleader, although already bruised and bleeding, had for a timeinspired the mob with much of his own reckless fury, and was leftalmost alone by his fleeing companions. His courage, which should havebeen displayed in a better cause, cost him dear, for a tremendousblow sent him reeling against a fence, the sharp point of one ofthe iron pickets caught under his chin, and he hung there unheeded, impaled and dying. He was afterwards taken down, and beneathhis soiled overalls and filthy shirt was a fair, white skin, cladin cassimere trousers, a rich waistcoat, and the finest of linen. His delicate, patrician features emphasized the mystery of hispersonality and action. When all resistance in the street was overcome, there still remainedthe factory, thronged with armed and defiant rioters. Dilkesordered the building to be cleared, and Merwyn took his place inthe storming party. We shall not describe the scenes that followed. It was a strife that differed widely from Lane's cavalry chargeon the lawn of a Southern plantation, with the eyes of fair womenwatching his deeds. Merwyn was not taking part with thousands in abattle that would be historic as Strahan and Blauvelt had done atGettysburg. Every element of romance and martial inspiration waswanting. It was merely a life-and-death encounter between a handfulof policemen and a grimy, desperate band of ruffians, cornered likerats, and resolved to sell their lives dearly. The building was cleared, and at last Merwyn, exhausted and panting, came back with his comrades and took his place in the ranks. Hisclub was bloody, and his revolver empty. The force marched away intriumph escorting wagons loaded with all the arms they could find, and were cheered by the better-disposed spectators that remainedon the scene of action. The desperate tenacity of the mob is shown by the fact that itreturned to the wire factory, found some boxes of arms that had beenoverlooked, filled the great five-story building and the streetabout it, and became so defiant that the same battle had to befought again in the afternoon with the aid of the military. For the sake of making a definite impression we have touched uponthe conflicts taking place in one locality. But throughout this awfulday there were mobs all over the city, with fighting, plundering, burning, the chasing and murdering of negroes occurring at the sametime in many and widely separated sections. Telegrams for aid werepouring into headquarters from all parts of the city, large tractsof which were utterly unprotected. The police and military could beemployed only in bodies sufficiently large to cope with gatheringsof hundreds or thousands. Individual outrages and isolated instancesof violence and plunder could not be prevented. But law-abiding citizens were realizing their danger and awakeningto a sense of their duty. Over four hundred special policemen weresworn in. Merchants and bankers in Wall Street met and resolved toclose business. Millionnaires vied with their clerks and portersin patriotic readiness to face danger. Volunteer companies wereformed, and men like Hon. William E. Dodge, always foremost in everygood effort in behalf of the city, left their offices for militaryduty. While thousands of citizens escaped from the city, with theirfamilies, not knowing where they would find a refuge, and obeyingonly the impulse to get away from a place apparently doomed, otherthousands remained, determined to protect their hearths and homesand to preserve their fair metropolis from destruction. Terribleas was the mob, and tenfold more terrible as it would have been ifit had used its strength in an organized effort and with definitepurpose, forces were now awakening and concentrating against itwhich would eventually destroy every vestige of lawlessness. Withthe fight on Broadway, during Monday evening, the supreme crisishad passed. After that the mob fought desperate but losing battles. Acton, with Napoleonic nerve and skill, had time to plan andorganize. General Brown with his brave troops reached him on Mondaynight, and thereafter the two men, providentially brought and kepttogether, met and overcame, in cordial co-operation, every dangeras it arose. Their names should never be forgotten by the citizensof New York. Acton, as chief of police, was soon feared more thanany other man in the city, and he began to receive anonymous lettersassuring him that he had "but one more day to live. " He tossedthem contemptuously aside, and turned to the telegrams imploringassistance. In every blow struck his iron will and heavy hand werefelt. For a hundred hours, through the storm, he kept his hand onthe helm and never closed his eyes. He inspired confidence in themen who obeyed him, and the humblest of them became heroes. The city was smitten with an awful paralysis. Stages and streetcars had very generally ceased running; shops were closed; Broadwayand other thoroughfares and centres usually so crowded were at timesalmost deserted; now and then a hack would whirl by with occupantsthat could not be classified. They might be leaders of the mob, detectives, or citizens in disguise bent on public or privatebusiness. On one occasion a millionnaire whose name is known andhonored throughout the land, dressed in the mean habiliments of alaborer, drove a wagon up Broadway in which was concealed a loadof arms and ammunition. In hundreds of homes fathers and sons keptwatch with rifles and revolvers, while city and State authoritiesissued proclamations. It was a time of strange and infinite vicissitude, yet apparentlythe mob steadily attained vaster and more terrible proportions, and everywhere lawlessness was on the increase, especially in theupper portions of the city. Mr. Vosburgh, with stern and clouded brow, obtained information fromall available sources, and flashed the vital points to Washington. He did not leave Marian alone very long, and as the day advancedkept one of his agents in the house during his absences. He failedto meet Merwyn at headquarters, but learned of the young man'sbrave action from one of his wounded comrades. When Mr. Vosburgh told Marian of the risks which her new friend wasincurring, and the nature of the fighting in which he was engaged, she grew so pale and agitated that he saw that she was becomingconscious of herself, of the new and controlling element enteringinto her life. This self-knowledge was made tenfold clearer by a brief visit fromMrs. Ghegan. "Oh! how dared you come?" cried Marian. "The strates are safe enough for the loikes o' me, so oi kape outo' the crowds, " was the reply, "but they're no place fer ye, MissMarian. Me brogue is a password iverywhere, an' even the crowds iscivil and dacent enough onless something wakes the divil in 'em;"and then followed a vivid account of her experiences and of thetimely help Merwyn had given her. "The docthers think me Barney'll live, but oi thank Misther Merwynthat took him out o' the very claws uv the bloody divils, and nottheir bat's eyes. Faix, but he tops all yez frin's, Miss Marian, tho'ye're so could to 'im. All the spalpanes in the strates couldn'tmake 'im wink, yet while I was a-wailin' over Barney he was astender-feelin' as a baby. " The girl's heart fluttered strangely at the words of her formermaid, but she tried to disguise her emotion. When again left aloneshe strained her ears for every sound from the city, and was untiringin her watch. From noon till evening she kept a dainty lunch readyfor Merwyn, but he did not come. After the young man's return from his second fight he was given somerest. In the afternoon, he, with others, was sent on duty to thewest side, the force being carried thither in stages which Actonhad impressed into the service. One driver refused to stir, saying, insolently, that he had "not been hired to carry policemen. " "Lock that man in cell No. 4, " was Acton's answer, while, in thesame breath, he ordered a policeman to drive. That was the superintendent's style of arguing and despatchingbusiness. Merwyn again saw plenty of service, for the spirit of pandemoniumwas present in the west side. Towards evening, however, the riotersceased their aimless and capricious violence, and adopted in theirmadness the dangerous method of Parisian mobs. They began throwingup a series of barricades in Eighth Avenue. Vehicles of allkinds within reach, telegraph poles, boxes, --anything that wouldobstruct, --were wired together. Barricades were also erected oncross-streets, to prevent flank movements. Captain Walling, of thepolice, who was on duty in the precinct, appreciated the importanceof abolishing this feature from street fighting as speedilyas possible, and telegraphed to headquarters for a co-operatingmilitary force. He also sent to General Sanford, at the arsenal, for troops. They were promised, but never sent. General Brown, fortunately, was a man of a very different stamp from Sanford, andhe promptly sent a body of regulars. Captain Slott took command of the police detailed to co-operatewith the soldiers, and, with their officers, waited impatientlyand vainly for the company promised by Sanford. Meanwhile the mobwas strengthening its defences with breathless energy, and the sunwas sinking in the west. As the difficult and dangerous work to bedone required daylight it was at last resolved to wait no longer. As the assailants drew near the barricade, they received a volley, accompanied by stones and other missiles. The police fell back alittle to the left, and the troops, advancing, returned the fire. But the rioters did not yield, and for a time the crash of musketryresounded through the avenue, giving the impression of a regularpitched battle. The accurate aim of the soldiers, however, at lastdecided the contest, and the rioters fled to the second barricade, followed by the troops, while the police tore away the capturedobstruction. Obtaining a musket and cartridges from a wounded soldier, Merwyn, by explaining that he was a good marksman, obtained the privilegeof fighting on the left flank of the military. The mob could not endure the steady, well-directed fire of theregulars, and one barricade after another was carried, until therioters were left uncovered when they fled, shrieking, yelling, cursing in their impotent rage, --the police with their clubs andthe soldiers with their rifles following and punishing them untilthe streets were clear. Merwyn, having been on duty all day, obtained a leave of absence tillthe following morning, and, availing himself of his old device tosave time and strength, went to a livery stable near the station-houseand obtained a hack by payment of double the usual fare. Mountingthe box with the driver, and avoiding crowds, he was borne rapidlytowards Mr. Vosburgh's residence. He was not only terribly exhausted, but also consumed with anxiety as to the safety of the girl whohad never been absent long from his thoughts, even in moments ofthe fiercest conflict. CHAPTER XLIX. ONE FACING HUNDREDS. THE evening was growing dusky when Merwyn dismissed his carriageand hastened to Mr. Vosburgh's residence. Marian and her fatherhad waited for him until their faces were clouded with anxiety byreason of his long delay. The young girl's attempt to dine withher father was but a formal pretence. At last she exclaimed, "Something must have happened to Mr. Merwyn!" "Do not entertain gloomy thoughts, my dear. A hundred things besidesan injury might have detained him. Keep a good dinner ready, andI think he'll do justice to it before the evening is over. " Even then the German servant announced his presence at the basementdoor, which, in view of the disguises worn, was still used as theplace of ingress and egress. Mr. Vosburgh hastened to welcome him, while Marian bustled around tocomplete her preparations. When he entered the dining-room he didindeed appear weary and haggard, a fair counterpart of the rioterswhom he had been fighting. "Only necessity, Miss Vosburgh, compels me to present myself in thisscarecrow aspect, " he said. "I've had no time or chance for anythingbetter. I can soon report to your father all that is essential, and then can go home and return later. " "I shall be much hurt if you do so, " said Marian, reproachfully. "I kept a lunch prepared for you during the afternoon, and now havea warm dinner all ready. It will be very ungracious in you to goaway and leave it. " "But I look like a coal-heaver. " "Oh, I've seen well-dressed men before. They are no novelty; but aman direct from a field of battle is quite interesting. Will youplease take this chair? You are not in the least like my otherfriends. They obey me without questionings. " "You must remember, " he replied, "that the relation is to me as newand strange as it is welcome. I shall need a great deal of discipline. " "When you learn what a martinet I can be you may repent, like manyanother who has obtained his wish. Here we shall reverse matters. Everything is topsy-turvy now, you know, so take this coffee atthe beginning of your dinner. " "I admit that your orders differ widely from those of police captains. "Then he added, with quiet significance, "No; I shall not repent. " "Mr. Merwyn, will you take an older man's advice?" "Certainly. Indeed, I am under your orders, also, for the night. " "I'm glad to hear it, for it will be a night of deep anxiety tome. Make a very light dinner, and take more refreshment later. Youare too much exhausted to dine now. You need not tell me of yourmorning adventures. I learned about those at headquarters. " "I have heard about them too, " Marian added, with a look thatwarmed the young fellow's soul. "I have also had a visit from Mrs. Ghegan, and her story was not so brief as yours. " "From what section have you just come?" Mr. Vosburgh asked. Merwyn gave a brief description of the condition of affairs on thewest side, ending with an account of the fight at the barricades. "In one respect you are like my other friends, only more so, "Marian said. "You are inclined to give me Hamlet with Hamlet leftout. What part did you take at the barricades?" He told her in a matter-of-fact way. "Ah, yes, I understand. I am learning to read between the lines ofyour stories. " "Well, Heaven be thanked, " ejaculated Mr. Vosburgh, "that you demolishedthe barricades! If the rioters adopt that mode of fighting us, weshall have far greater difficulty in coping with them. " At last Mr. Vosburgh said, "Will you please come with me to mylibrary for a few minutes?" On reaching the apartment he closed the door, and continued, gravely:"Mr. Merwyn, I am in sore straits. You have offered to aid me. Iwill tell you my situation, and then you must do as you think best. I know that you have done all a man's duty to-day and have earnedthe right to complete rest. You will also naturally wish to lookafter your own home. Nevertheless my need and your own words leadme to suggest that you stay here to-night, or at least throughthe greater portion of it. I fear that I have been recognized andfollowed, --that I have enemies on my track. I suspect the man whomI discharged from the care of my office. Yet I must go out, for Ihave important despatches to send, and--what is of more consequence--Imust make some careful observations. The mob seems to be a merelawless, floundering monster, bent chiefly on plunder; but thedanger is that leaders are organizing its strength as a part of therebellion. You can understand that, while I look upon the outbreakwith the solicitude of a citizen whose dearest interests are atstake, I also, from habit of mind and duty, must study it as a partof the great campaign of the year. If there are organizers at workthere will be signals to-night, and I can see them from a tallneighboring church-spire. Yet how can I leave my child alone? How--" "Mr. Vosburgh, " cried Merwyn, "what honor or privilege could I askgreater than that of being your daughter's protector during yourabsence? I understand you perfectly. You feel that you must do yourduty at any cost to yourself. After what you have said, nothingcould induce me to go away. Indeed, I would stand guard withoutyour door, were there no place for me within. " "There, I won't thank you in words, " said the elder man, wringingMerwyn's hand. "Will you do as I wish?" "Yes, sir. " "Then lie down on the sofa in the front parlor and sleep while youcan. The least disturbance in the street would waken you there. Marian will watch from an upper window and give you warning ifanything occurs. It is possible that I may be set upon when returninghome, but I think not, for I shall enter the house from the rear;"and he told the young man of the means of exit which he had securedin case the house was attacked. "Rather than permit my child totake any risks, " concluded the father, solemnly, "fly with her andthe woman who will be her companion till I return. Beyond the factof general danger to all homes, she does not suspect anything, norshall I increase her anxieties by telling her of my fears. She willbe vigilant on general principles. Have you arms?" "I have fired most of my cartridges to-day. " "Well here is a revolver and a repeating rifle that you can dependupon. Do you understand the latter weapon?" "Yes, I have one like it. " "I will now tell Marian of my plans, so far as it is wise for herto know them, and then, God help and protect us all! Come, I wishyou to lie down at once, for every moment of rest may be needed. " When they descended, Mr. Vosburgh said to his daughter, laughingly, "Mr. Merwyn is under orders, and can have nothing more to say toyou to-night. " The young fellow, in like vein, brought the rifle to his shoulder, presented arms to her, wheeled, and marched to his station in thedarkened front parlor. Before lying down, however, he opened oneblind for an outlook. "Do you fear any special danger to-night, papa?" Marian asked, quickly. "I have been expecting special dangers from the first, " replied herfather, gently. "While I must do my duty I shall also take suchprecautions as I can. Merwyn will be your protector during myabsence. Now take your station at your upper window and do yourpart. " He explained briefly what he expected of her. "In case ofan attack, " he concluded, almost sternly, "you must fly before itis too late. I shall now go and prepare Mr. Erkmann for the possibleemergency, and then go out through the basement door as usual, after giving our loyal German her directions. " A few moments later he had departed, all were at their posts, andthe house was quiet. Merwyn felt the necessity of rest, for every bone in his body achedfrom fatigue; but he did not dream of the possibility of sleep. His heart was swelling with pride and joy that he had become, notonly the friend of the girl he loved, but also her trusted protector. But at last Nature claimed her dues, and he succumbed and slept. Mr. Vosburgh, unmolested, climbed to his lofty height of observation. The great city lay beneath him with its myriad lights, but on ThirdAvenue, from 40th Street northward for a mile, there was a hiatusof darkness. There the mob had begun, and there still dwelt itsevil spirit uncurbed. The rioters in that district had cut offthe supply of gas, feeling, as did the French revolutionists, that"Light was not in order. " Mr. Vosburgh watched that long stretch of gloom with the greatestanxiety. Suddenly from its mystery a rocket flamed into the sky. Three minutes elapsed and another threw far and wide its ominouslight. Again there was an interval of three minutes, when a thirdrocket confirmed the watcher's fears that these were signals. Fourminutes passed, and then, from the vicinity of Union Square, whatappeared to be a great globe of fire rose to an immense height. A few seconds later there was an answering rocket far off in theeastern districts of Brooklyn. These were indeed portents in the sky, and Mr. Vosburgh was perplexedas to their significance. Were they orders or at least invitations, for a general uprising against all authority? Was the rebellionagainst the government about to become general in the great centresof population? With the gloomiest of forebodings he watched fortwo hours longer, but only heard the hoarse murmur of the unquietcity, which occasionally, off to the west, became so loud as tosuggest the continuance of the strife of the day. At last he wentto the nearest available point and sent his despatches, then stoleby a circuitous route to the dwelling of Mr. Erkmann, who waswatching for him. Marian's vigilance was sleepless. While she had been burdenedthroughout the day with the deepest anxieties, she had been engagedin no exhausting efforts, and the novelty of her present positionand her new emotions banished the possibility of drowsiness. Shefelt as if she had lived years during the past two days. The citywas full of dangers nameless and horrible, yet she was consciousof an exaltation of spirit and of a happiness such as she had neverknown. The man whom she had despised as a coward was her protector, andshe wondered at her sense of security. She almost longed for anopportunity to prove that her courage could now be equal to his, and her eyes flashed in the darkness as they glanced up and downthe dusky street; again they became gentle in her commiserationof the weary man in the room below, and gratefully she thanked Godthat he had been spared through the awful perils of the day. Suddenly her attention was caught by the distant tramp of manyfeet. She threw open a blind and listened with a beating heart. Yes, a mob was coming, nearer, nearer; they are at the corner. Witha sudden outburst of discordant cries they are turning into thisvery street. A moment later her hand was upon Merwyn's shoulder. "Wake, wake, "she cried; "the mob is coming--is here. " He was on his feet instantly with rifle in hand. Through the windowhe saw the dusky forms gathering about the door. The German womanstood behind Marian, crying and wringing her hands. "Miss Vosburgh, you and the woman do as I bid, " Merwyn said, sternly. "Go to the rear of the hall, open the door, and if I say, 'Fly, 'or if I fall, escape for your lives. " "But what will you--" "Obey!" he cried, with a stamp of his foot. They were already in the hall, and did as directed. Imagine Marian's wonder as she saw him throw open the front door, step without, and fire instantly. Then, dropping his rifle on hisarm, he began to use his revolver. She rushed to his side and sawthe mob, at least three hundred strong, scattering as if swept awayby a whirlwind. Merwyn's plan of operations had been bold, but it proved the bestone. In the streets he had learned the effect of fearless, decisiveaction, and he had calculated correctly on the panic which so oftenseized the undisciplined hordes. They probably believed that hisboldness was due to the fact that he had plenty of aid at hand. So long as there was a man within range he continued to fire, thenbecame aware of Marian's presence. "O Miss Vosburgh, " he said, earnestly, "you should not look onsights like these;" for a leader of the mob lay motionless on thepavement beneath them. He took her hand, which trembled, led her within, and refastenedthe door. Her emotion was so strong that she dared not speak. "Why did you take such a risk?" he asked, gravely. "What wouldyour father have said to me if one of those wretches had fired andwounded you?" "I--I only realized one thing--that you were facing hundreds allalone, " she faltered. "Why, Miss Marian, I was only doing my duty, and I took the safestway to perform it. I had learned from experience that the bluff gameis generally the best. No doubt I gave those fellows the impressionthat there were a dozen armed men in the house. " But her emotion was too strong for control, and she sobbed: "It wasthe bravest thing I ever heard of. Oh! I have done you SUCH wrong!Forgive me. I--I--can't--" and she hastened up the dusky stairway, followed by her servant, who was profuse in German interjections. "I am repaid a thousand-fold, " was Merwyn's quiet comment. "My oathcannot blight my life now. " Sleep had been most effectually banished from his eyes, and as hestood in the unlighted apartment, motionless and silent, lookingout upon the dusky street, but a few moments passed before a manand a woman approached cautiously, lifted the slain rioter, andbore him away. In less than half an hour Mr. Vosburgh entered his house from therear so silently that he was almost beside Merwyn before his approachwas recognized. "What, Merwyn!" he exclaimed, with a little chiding in his tone;"is this the way you rest? You certainly haven't stood here, 'likePatience on a monument, ' since I left?" "No, indeed. You are indebted to Miss Vosburgh that you have a hometo come to, for I slept so soundly that the house might have beencarried off bodily. The mob has been here. " "O papa!" cried Marian, clasping her arms about his neck, "thankGod you are back safe! Oh, it was all so sudden and terrible!" "But how, how, Merwyn? What has happened?" "Well, sir, Miss Vosburgh was a better sentinel than I, and heardthe first approach of the ruffians. I was sleeping like old Riphimself. She wakened me. A shot or two appeared to create a panic, and they disappeared like a dream, as suddenly as they had come. " "Just listen to him, papa!" cried the girl, now reassured by herfather's presence, and recovering from her nervous shock. "Whyshouldn't he sleep after such a day as he has seen? It was his dutyto sleep, wasn't it? The idea of two sentinels in a small garrisonkeeping awake, watching the same points!" "I'm very glad you obtained some sleep, Merwyn, and surely you hadearned it; but as yet I have a very vague impression of this moband of the fight. I looked down the street but a few moments ago, and it seemed deserted. It is quiet now. Have you not both sleptand dreamed?" "No, papa, " said the girl, shudderingly; "there's a dead man atthe foot of our steps even now. " "You are mistaken, Miss Vosburgh. As usual, his friends lost notime in carrying him off. " "Well, well, " cried Mr. Vosburgh, "this is a longer story than I canlisten to without something to sustain the inner man. "Riten, "--tothe servant, --"some fresh coffee please. Now for the lighteddining-room, --that's hidden from the street, --where we can lookinto each other's faces. So much has happened the last two daysthat here in the dark I begin to feel as if it all were a nightmare. Ah! how cosey and home-like this room seems after prowling in thedangerous streets with my hand on the butt of a revolver! Come now, Marian, sit down quietly and tell the whole story. I can't trustMerwyn at all when he is the hero of the tale. " "You may well say that. I hope, sir, " with a look of mock severityat the young fellow, "that your other reports to papa are moreaccurate than the one I have heard. Can you believe it, papa? heactually threw open the front door and faced the entire mob alone. " "I beg your pardon, Miss Vosburgh, as I emptied my revolver andlooked around, a lady stood beside me. I've seen men do heroicthings to-day, but nothing braver than that. " "But I didn't think!" cried the girl; "I didn't realize--" and thenshe paused, while her face crimsoned. Her heart had since told herwhy she had stepped to his side. "But you would have thought twice, yes, a hundred times, " saidMerwyn, laughing, "if you hadn't been a soldier. Jove! how Strahanwill stare when he hears of it!" "Please, never tell him, " exclaimed the girl. Her father now stood encircling her with his arm, and lookingfondly down upon her. "Well, thank God we're all safe yet! and, threatening as is the aspect of affairs, I believe we shall seehappy days of peace and security before very long. " "I am so glad that mamma is not in the city!" said Marian, earnestly. "Oh that you were with her, my child!" "I'm better contented where I am, " said the girl, with a decidedlittle nod. "Yes, but great God! think of what might have happened if Merwynhad not been here, --what might still have happened had he not hadthe nerve to take, probably, the only course which could have savedyou! There, there, I can't think of it, or I shall be utterlyunnerved. " "Don't think of it, papa. See, I'm over the shock of it already. Now don't you be hysterical as I was yesterday. " He made a great effort to rally, but it was evident that thestrong man was deeply agitated. They all, however, soon regainedself-control and composure, and spent a genial half-hour together, Merwyn often going to the parlor, that he might scan the street. After a brief discussion of plans for the morrow they separatedfor the night, Merwyn resuming his bivouac in the parlor. Afterlistening for a time he was satisfied that even mobs must rest, and, as the soldiers slept on their arms, he slumbered, his riflein hand. When Marian bade her father good-night he took her face in hishands and gazed earnestly down upon it. The girl understood hisexpression, and the color came into her fair countenance like aJune dawn. "Do you remember, darling, my words when I said, 'I do not knowhow much it might cost you in the end to dismiss Mr. Merwyn finally'?" "Yes, papa. " "Are you not learning how much it might have cost you?" "Yes, papa, " with drooping eyes. He kissed her, and nothing more was said. CHAPTER L. ZEB. MERWYN awoke early, and, as soon as he heard the German servantcoming down-stairs, wrote a line to Mr. Vosburgh saying that hewould call on his way to headquarters, and then hastened through thealmost deserted streets to his own home. To his great satisfactionhe found everything unchanged there. After luxuriating in a bathand a bountiful breakfast he again instructed his man to be on thewatch, and to keep up a fire throughout the coming night, so thata hot meal might be had speedily at any time. More than once the thought had crossed his mind: "Unless we makegreater headway with the riot, that attack on Mr. Vosburgh's housewill be repeated. Vengeance alone would now prompt the act, andbesides he is undoubtedly a marked man. There's no telling what mayhappen. Our best course is to fight, fight, knock the wretches onthe head. With the quelling of the mob comes safety;" and, rememberingthe danger that threatened Marian, he was in a savage mood. On this occasion, he went directly to Mr. Vosburgh's residence, resolving to take no risks out of the line of duty. His first thoughtnow was the securing of Marian's safety. He had learned that therewas no longer any special need for personal effort on his part togain information, since the police authorities had wires stretchingto almost every part of the city. An account of the risks takento keep up this telegraphic communication would make a strange, thrilling chapter in itself. Moreover, police detectives were busyeverywhere, and Mr. Vosburgh at headquarters and with the aid of hisown agents could now obtain all the knowledge essential. Thereforethe young fellow's plan was simple, and he indicated his course atonce after a cordial greeting from Mr. Vosburgh and Marian. "Hard fighting appears to me to be the way to safety, " said he. "Ican scarcely believe that the rioters will endure more than anotherday of such punishment as they received yesterday. Indeed, I shouldnot be surprised if to-day was comparatively quiet. " "I agree with you, " said Mr. Vosburgh, "unless the signals I sawlast night indicate a more general uprising than has yet takenplace. The best elements of the city are arming and organizing. There is a deep and terrible anger rising against the mob and allits abettors and sympathizers. " "I know it, " cried Merwyn; "I feel it myself. When I think of thedanger which threatened your home and especially Miss Vosburgh, Ifeel an almost ungovernable desire to be at the wretches. " "But that means greater peril for you, " faltered the young girl. "No, it means the shortest road to safety for us all. A mob is likefire: it must be stamped out of existence as soon as possible. " "I think Merwyn is right, " resumed Mr. Vosburgh. "Another dayof successful fighting will carry us to safety, for the generalgovernment is moving rapidly in our behalf, and our militia regimentsare on their way home. I'll be ready to go to headquarters withyou in a minute. " "Oh, please do not be rash to-day. If you had fallen yesterdaythink what might have happened, " said Marian. "Every blow I strike to-day, Miss Vosburgh, will be nerved by thethought that you have one enemy, one danger, the less; and I shallesteem it the greatest of privileges if I can remain here to-nightagain as one of your protectors. " "I cannot tell you what a sense of security your presence givesme, " she replied. "You seem to know just what to do and how to doit. " "Well, " he answered, with a grim laugh, "one learns fast in thesetimes. A very stern necessity is the mother of invention. " "Yes, " sighed the girl, "one learns fast. Now that I have seen war, it is no longer a glorious thing, but full of unspeakable horrors. " "This is not war, " said Merwyn, a little bitterly. "I pity, whileI detest, the poor wretches we knock on the head. Your friends, who have fought the elite of the South will raise their eyebrowsif they hear us call this war. " "I have but one friend who has faced a mob alone, " she replied, with a swift, shy glance. "A friend whom that privilege made the most fortunate of men, " hereplied. "Had the rioters been Southern soldiers, they would haveshot me instantly, instead of running away. " "All my friends soon learn that I am stubborn in my opinions, " washer laughing reply, as her father joined them. Mr. Erkmann on the next street north was a sturdy, loyal man, andhe permitted Mr. Vosburgh and Merwyn to pass out through his house, so that to any one who was watching the impression would be giventhat at least two men were in the house. Burdened with a sense ofdanger, Mr. Vosburgh had resolved on brief absences, believing thatat headquarters and through his agents he could learn the generaldrift of events. Broadway wore the aspect of an early Sunday morning in quiet times. Pedestrians were few, and the stages had ceased running. The ironshutters of the great Fifth Avenue and other hotels were securelyfastened. No street cars jingled along the side avenues; shopswere closed; and the paralysis of business was almost complete inits greatest centres. At police headquarters, however, the mostintense activity prevailed. Here were gathered the greater partof the police force and of the military co-operating with it Theneighboring African church was turned into a barrack. Acton occupiedother buildings, with or without the consent of the owners. The top floor of the police building was thronged with coloredrefugees, thankful indeed to have found a place of safety, but manywere consumed with anxiety on account of absent ones. The sanguine hopes for a more quiet day were not fulfilled, but theseverest fighting was done by the military, and cavalry now beganto take part in the conflict. On the west side, Seventh Avenue wasswept again and again with grape and canister before the mob gaveway. On the east side there were several battles, and in one ofthem, fought just before night, the troops were compelled to retreat, leaving some of their dead and wounded in the streets. GeneralBrown sent Captain Putnam with one hundred and fifty regularsto the scene of disaster and continued violence, and a sanguinaryconflict ensued between ten and eleven o'clock at night. Putnamswept the dimly lighted streets with his cannon, and when therioters fled into the houses he opened such a terrible fire uponthem as to subdue all resistance. The mob was at last learning thatthe authorities would neither yield nor scruple to make use of anymeans in the conflict. In the great centres down town, things were comparatively quiet. The New York Times took matters into its own hands. A glare oflight from the windows of its building was shed after night-fallover Printing-House Square, and editors and reporters had theirrifles as readily within reach as their pens. We shall not follow Merwyn's adventures, for that would involvesomething like a repetition of scenes already described. As theday was closing, however, he took part in an affair which explainedthe mystery of Mammy Borden's disappearance. During the first day of the riot the colored woman had seen enoughto realize her own danger and that of her son, and she was determinedto reach him and share his fate, whatever it might be. She hadno scruple in stealing away from Mr. Vosburgh's house, for by herdeparture she removed a great peril from her employers and friends. She was sufficiently composed, however, to put on a heavy veil andgloves, and so reached her son in safety. Until the evening of thethird day of the riot, the dwelling in which they cowered escapedthe fury of the mob, although occupied by several colored families. At last the hydra-headed monster fixed one of its baleful eyesupon the spot. Just as the occupants of the house were beginningto hope, the remorseless wretches came, and the spirit of Tophetbroke loose. The door was broken in with axes, and savage men streamedinto the dwelling. The poor victims tried to barricade themselvesin the basement, but their assailants cut the water-pipes and wouldhave drowned them. Driven out by this danger, the hunted creaturessought to escape through the yard. As Zeb was lifting his motherover the fence the rioters came upon her and dragged her back. "Kill me, kill me, " cried Zeb, "but spare my mother. " They seemed to take him at his word. Two of the fiends held hisarms, while another struck him senseless and apparently dead witha crowbar. Then, not accepting this heroic self-sacrifice, theybegan to beat the grief-frenzied mother. But retribution was athand. The cries of the victims and the absorption of the riotersin their brutal work prevented them from hearing the swift, heavytread of the police. A moment later Merwyn and others rushed throughthe hallway, and the ruffians received blows similar to the onewhich had apparently bereft poor Zeb of life. The rioters wereeither dispersed or left where they fell, a wagon was impressed, and Zeb and his mother were brought to headquarters. Merwyn had soonrecognized Mrs. Borden, but she could not be comforted. Obtainingleave of absence, the young man waited until the evening grewdusky; then securing a hack from a stable near headquarters, theproprietor of which was disposed to loyalty by reason of his numerousblue-coated neighbors, he took the poor woman and the scarcelybreathing man to a hospital, and left money for their needs. Thecurtains of the carriage had been closely drawn; but if the crowdsthrough which they sometimes passed had guessed its occupants, they would have instantly met a tragic fate, while Merwyn's andthe driver's chances would have been scarcely better. CHAPTER LI. A TRAGEDY. MR. VOSBURGH and his daughter had passed a very anxious day, theformer going out but seldom. The information obtained from thecity had not been reassuring, for while the authorities had undertheir direction larger bodies of men, and lawlessness was notso general, the mob was still unquelled and fought with greaterdesperation in the disaffected centres. In the after-part of the dayMr. Vosburgh received the cheering intelligence that the SeventhRegiment would arrive that night, and that other militia organizationswere on their way home. Therefore he believed that if they escapedinjury until the following morning all cause for deep anxiety wouldpass away. As the hours elapsed and no further demonstration wasmade against his home, his hopes grew apace, and now, as he andhis daughter waited for Merwyn before dining, he said, "I fancythat the reception given to the mob last night has curbed theirdisposition to molest us. " "O papa, what keeps Mr. Merwyn?" "Well, my dear, I know he was safe at noon. " "Oh, oh, I do hope that this will be the last day of this fearfulsuspense! Isn't it wonderful what Mr. Merwyn has done in the pastfew days?" "Not so wonderful as it seems. Periods like these always developmaster-spirits, or rather they give such spirits scope. How littlewe knew of Acton before this week! yet at the beginning he seizedthe mob by the throat and has not once relaxed his grasp. He hasbeen the one sleepless man in the city, and how he endures thestrain is almost beyond mortal comprehension. The man and the hourcame together. The same is true of Merwyn in his sphere. He had beenpreparing for this, hoping that it would give him an opportunityto right himself. Fearless as the best of your friends, he combineswith courage the singularly cool, resolute nature inherited fromhis father. He is not in the least ambitious for distinction, butis only bent on carrying out his own aims and purposes. " "And what are they, papa?" "Sly fox! as if you did not know. Who first came to your protection?" "And to think how I treated him!" "Quite naturally, under the circumstances. The mystery of his formerrestraint is still unexplained, but I now think it due to familyreasons. Yet why he should be so reluctant to speak of them is stillanother mystery. He has no sympathy with the South or his mother'sviews, yet why should he not say, frankly, 'I cannot fight againstmy mother's people'? When we think, however, that the sons of thesame mother are often arrayed against each other in this war, sucha reason as I have suggested appears entirely inadequate. All hisinterests are at the North, and he is thoroughly loyal; but when Iintimated, last evening, that he might wish to spend the night inhis own home to insure its protection, it seemed less than nothingto him compared with your safety. He has long had this powerfulmotive to win your regard, and yet there has been some restraintmore potent. " "But you trust him now, papa?" "Yes. " Thus they talked until the clock struck eight, and Marian, growingpallid with anxiety and fear, went to the darkened parlor windowto watch for Merwyn, then returned and looked at her father withsomething like dismay on her face. Before he could speak, she exclaimed, "Ah! there is his ring;" andshe rushed toward the door, paused, came back, and said, blushingly, "Papa, you had better admit him. " Mr. Vosburgh smilingly complied. The young fellow appeared in almost as bad a plight as when hehad come in on Monday night and gone away with bitter words on hislips. He was gaunt from fatigue and long mental strain. His firstwords were: "Thank God you we still all safe! I had hoped to behere long before this, but so much has happened!" "What!" exclained Marian, "anything worse than took place yesterday?" "No, and yes. " Then, with an appealing look; "Miss Marian, a cupof your good coffee. I feel as if a rioter could knock me down witha feather. " She ran to the kitchen herself to see that it was of the best possiblequality, and Merwyn, sinking into a chair, looked gloomily at hishost and said: "We have made little if any progress. The mob growsmore reckless and devilish. " "My dear fellow, " cried Mr. Vosburgh, "the Seventh Regiment willbe here to-night, and others are on the way;" and he told of thereassuring tidings he had received. "Thank Heaven for your news! I have been growing despondent duringthe last few hours. " "Take this and cheer up, " cried Marian. "The idea of your beingdespondent! You are only tired to death, and will have a largerappetite for fighting to-morrow, I fear, than ever. " "No; I witnessed a scene this evening that made me sick of it all. Of course I shall do my duty to the end, but I wish that otherscould finish it up. More than ever I envy your friends who can fightsoldiers;" and then he told them briefly of the scene witnessed inthe rescue of Mammy Borden and her son. "Oh, horrible! horrible!" exclaimed the girl. "Where are they now?" "I took them from headquarters to a hospital. They both need thebest surgical attention, though poor Zeb, I fear, is past help. " "Merwyn, " said Mr. Vosburgh, gravely, "you incurred a fearful riskin taking those people through the streets. " "I suppose so, " replied the young fellow, quietly; "but in a sensethey were a part of your household, and the poor creatures were insuch a desperate plight that--" "Mr. Merwyn, " cried Marian, a warm flush mantling her face, "youare a true knight. You have perilled your life for the poor andhumble. " He looked at her intently a moment, and then said, quietly, "Iwould peril it again a thousand times for such words from YOU. " To hide a sudden confusion she exclaimed: "Great Heavens! whatdifferences there are in men! Those who would torture and killthese inoffensive people have human forms. " "Men are much what women make them; and it would almost seem thatwomen are the chief inspiration of this mob. The draft may havebeen its inciting cause, but it has degenerated into an insatiablethirst for violence, blood, and plunder. I saw an Irishwoman to-daywho fought like a wild-cat before she would give up her stolengoods. " The German servant Riten now began to place dinner on the table, Mr. Vosburgh remarking, "We had determined to wait for you on thisoccasion. " "What am I thinking of?" cried Merwyn. "If this thing goes on Ishall become uncivilized. Mr. Vosburgh, do take me somewhere thatI may bathe my hands and face, and please let me exchange this horridblouse, redolent of the riot, for almost any kind of garment. Icould not sit at the table with Miss Vosburgh in my present guise. " "Yes, papa, give him your white silk waistcoat and dress-coat, "added Marian, laughing. "Come with me, " said Mr. Vosburgh, "and I'll find you an outfitfor the sake of your own comfort. " "I meant to trespass on your kindness when I first came in, but mindand body seemed almost paralyzed. I feel better already, however. While we are absent may I ask if you have your weapons ready?" "Yes, I have a revolver on my person, and my rifle is in thedining-room. " A few moments later the gentlemen descended, Merwyn in a sack-coatthat hung rather loosely on his person. Before sitting down hescanned the street, which was quiet. "My former advice, Merwyn, " said his host; "you must make a lightmeal and wait until you are more rested. " "O papa, what counsel to give a guest!" "Counsel easily followed, " said Merwyn. "I crave little else thancoffee. Indeed, your kindness, Miss Vosburgh, has so heartened me, that I am rallying fast. " "Since everything is to be in such great moderation, perhaps I havebeen too prodigal of that, " was the arch reply. "I shall be grateful for much or little. " "Oh, no, don't put anything on the basis of gratitude. I have toomuch of that to be chary of it. " "A happy state of affairs, " said Merwyn, "since what you regardas services on my part are priceless favors to me. I can scarcelyrealize it, and have thought of it all day, that I only, of allyour friends, can be with you now. Strahan will be green with envy, and so I suppose will the others. " "I do not think any the less of them because it is impossible forthem to be here, " said the young girl, blushing. "Of course not. It's only my immense good fortune. They would givetheir right eyes to stand in my shoes. " "I hope I may soon hear that they are all recovering. I fear thatMr. Lane's and Mr. Strahan's wounds are serious; and, although Mr. Blauvelt made light of his hurt, he may find that it is no trifle. " "It would seem that I am doomed to have no honorable scars. " "Through no fault of yours, Mr. Merwyn. I've thought so much ofpoor mamma to-day! She must be wild with anxiety about us. " "I think not, " said Mr. Vosburgh. "I telegraphed to her yesterdayand to-day. I admit they were rather misleading messages. " From time to time Mr. Vosburgh went to the outlook on the street, but all remained apparently quiet in their vicinity. Yet an hour offearful peril was drawing near. A spirit of vengeance, and a desireto get rid of a most dangerous enemy, prompted another attack onMr. Vosburgh's home that night; and, taught by former experience, the assailants had determined to approach quietly and fight tillthey should accomplish their purpose. They meant to strike suddenly, swiftly, and remorselessly. The little group in the dining-room, however, grew confident withevery moment of immunity; yet they could not wholly banish theirfears, and Mr. Vosburgh explained to Merwyn how he had put bars onthe outside of the doors opening into the back yard, a bolt alsoon the door leading down-stairs to the basement. But they dined very leisurely, undisturbed; then at Marian's requestthe gentlemen lighted their cigars. Mr. Vosburgh strolled away tosee that all was quiet and secure. "I shouldn't have believed that I could rally so greatly in soshort a time, " said Merwyn, leaning back luxuriously in his chair. "Last night I was overcome with drowsiness soon after I lay down. I now feel as if I should never want to sleep again. It will be myturn to watch to-night, and you must sleep. " "Yes, when I feel like it, " replied Marian. "I think you bear the strain of anxiety wonderfully. " "I am trying to retrieve myself. " "You have retrieved yourself, Miss Vosburgh. You have become agenuine soldier. It didn't take long to make a veteran of you. " "So much for a good example, you see. " "Oh, well, it's easy enough for a man to face danger. Think howmany thousands do it as a matter of course. " "And must women be timid as a matter of course?" "Women do not often inspire men as you do, Miss Marian. I know I amdifferent from what I was, and I think I always shall be different. " "I didn't treat you fairly, Mr. Merwyn, and I've grieved over thepast more than I can tell you. " "And you won't mistrust me again?" "Never. " "You make me very happy, and you will never know how unhappy I havebeen. Even before I left the country, last autumn, I envied thedrummer-boys of Strahan's regiment. I don't wish to take advantageof your present feeling, or have you forget that I am still undera miserable restraint which I can't explain. I must probably resumemy old inactive life, while your other friends win fame and rankin serving their country. Of course I shall give money, but bah!what's that to a girl like you? When all this hurly-burly in thestreets is over, when conventional life begins again, and I seema part of it, will you still regard me as a friend?" His distrust touched her deeply, when she was giving him herheart's best love, and her strong feeling caused her to falter asshe said, "Do you think I can grow cold towards the man who riskedhis life for me?" "That is exaggerated gratitude. Any decent man would risk his lifefor you. Why, you were as brave as I. I often ask myself, can yoube a friend for my own sake, because of some inherent congeniality?You have done more for your other friends than they for you, andyet they are very dear to you, because you esteem them as men. Icovet a like personal regard, and I hope you will teach me to winit" "You have won it, --that is--" "That is--? There is a mental reservation, or you are too truthfulfor undoubted assurance when shown that gratitude has no place inthis relation. " She averted her face from his searching eyes, and was deeplyembarrassed. "I feared it would be so, " he said, sadly. "But I do not blameyou. On the contrary I honor your sincerity. Very well, I shallbe heartily glad of any regard that you can give me, and shall tryto be worthy of it. " "Mr. Merwyn, " she said, impetuously, "no friend of mine receives astronger, better, or more sincere regard than I give you for yourown sake. There now, trust me as I trust you;" and she gave himher hand. He took it in his strong grasp, but she exclaimed, instantly: "Youare feverish. You are ill. I thought your eyes were unnaturallybright. " "They should be so if it is in the power of happiness to kindlethem!" "Come now, " she cried, assuming a little brusqueness of manner whichbecame her well; "I've given you my word, and that's my bond. Ifyou indulge in any more doubts I'll find a way to punish you. I'lltake my 'affidavy' I'm just as good a friend to you as you are tome. If you doubt me, I shall doubt you. " "I beg your pardon; no you won't, or cannot, rather. You know wellthat I have my father's unchangeable tenacity. It's once and alwayswith me. " "You are speaking riddles, " she faltered, averting her face. "Not at all. I am glad indeed that you can give me simple friendship, unforced, uncompelled by any other motive than that which actuatesyou in regard to the others. But you know well--your most casualglance would reveal it to you--that I, in whom you have inspiredsome semblance of manhood, can never dream of any other woman. Whenyou see this truth, as you often will, you must not punish me forit. You must not try to cure me by coldness or by any other of theconventional remedies, for you cannot. When we meet, speak kindly, look kindly; and should it ever be not best or right that we shouldmeet, --that is, often, --we shall not. " "You are scarcely speaking as a friend, " she said, in a low voice. "Will you punish me if I cannot help being far more?" "No, since you cannot help it, " she replied, with a shy laugh. A new light, a new hope, began to dawn upon him, and he was aboutto speak impetuously when Mr. Vosburgh appeared and said, "Merwyn, I've been watching two men who passed and repassed the house, andwho seem to be reconnoitring. " As Merwyn and Marian accompanied him to the parlor they heard theheavy booming of cannon off on the east side, and it was repeatedagain and again. "Those are ominous sounds at this time of night, " said Mr. Vosburgh. "That they don't come from the rioters is a comfort, " Merwyn replied;"but it proves what I said before, --they are becoming more boldand reckless. " "It may also show that the authorities are more stern and relentlessin dealing with them. " At last the sounds of conflict died away, the street appeared quietand deserted, and they all returned to the dining-room. The light enabled Merwyn to look eagerly and questioningly atMarian. She smiled, flushed, and, quickly averting her eyes, beganto speak on various topics in a way that warned Merwyn to restrainall further impatience; but she inspired so strong and delicious ahope that he could scarcely control himself. He even fancied thatthere was at times a caressing accent in her tone when she spoketo him. "Surely, " he thought, "if what I said were repugnant, she would givesome hint of the fact; but how can it be possible that so soon--" "Come, Marian, I think you may safely retire now, " said her father;"I hear Riten coming up. " Even as he spoke, a front parlor window was crashed in. Merwynand Mr. Vosburgh sprung into the hall, revolvers in hand; Riteninstinctively fled back towards the stairs leading to the basement, in which she had extinguished the light, and Mr. Vosburgh told hisdaughter to follow the servant. But she stood still, as if paralyzed, and saw a man rushing uponhim with a long knife. Mr. Vosburgh fired, but, from agitation, ineffectually. Merwyn at the same moment had fired on another man, who fell. A fearful cry escaped from the girl's lips as she saw thather father was apparently doomed. The gleaming knife was almostabove him. Then--how it happened she could never tell, so swift wasthe movement--Merwyn stood before her father. The knife descendedupon his breast, yet at the same instant his pistol exploded againstthe man's temple, and the miscreant dropped like a log. There weresounds of other men clambering in at the window, and Mr. Vosburghsnatched Merwyn back by main force, saying to Marian, "Quick! foryour life! down the stairs!" The moment the door closed upon them all he slid the heavy bolt. Riten stood sobbing at the foot of the stairs. "Hush!" said Mr. Vosburgh, sternly. "Each one obey me. Out throughthe area door instantly. " Across this he also let down a heavy bar, and, taking his daughter'shand, he hurried her to the fence, removed the boards, and, when allhad passed through, replaced them. Mr. Erkmann, at his neighbor'srequest, had left his rear basement door open, and was on thewatch. He appeared almost instantly, and counselled the fugitivesto remain with him. "No, " said Mr. Vosburgh; "we will bring no more peril than we muston you. Let us out into the street at once, and then bar and bolteverything. " "But where can you go at this time?" "To my house, " said Merwyn, firmly. "Please do as Mr. Vosburghasks. It will be safest for all. " "Well, since you will have it so. " "Hasten, hasten, " Merwyn urged. Mr. Erkmann unlatched the door and looked out. The street was quietand deserted, and the fugitives rushed away with whispered thanks. "Marian, tie Riten's apron over your head, so as to partiallydisguise your face, " said her father. Fortunately they met but few people, and no crowds whatever. Asthey approached Merwyn's home his steps began to grow unsteady. "Papa, " said Marian, in agitated tones, "Mr. Merwyn is wounded; hewants your support. " "Merciful Heaven, Merwyn! are you wounded?" "Yes, hasten. I must reach home before giving out. " When they gained his door he had to be almost carried up the steps, and Mr. Vosburgh rang the bell furiously. Only a moment or two elapsed before the scared face of Thomasappeared, but as Merwyn crossed the threshold he fainted. They carried him to his room, and then Mr. Vosburgh said, "Bringa physician and lose not a second. Say it is a case of life anddeath. Hold! first bring me some brandy. " "Oh, oh!" Marian moaned, "I fear it's death! O papa he gave hislife for you. " "No, no, " was the hoarse response; "it cannot, shall not be. It'sonly a wound, and he has fainted from loss of blood. Show your nervenow. Moisten his lips with brandy. You, Riten, chafe his wristswith it, while I cut open his shirt and stanch the wound. " A second more and a terrible gash on Merwyn's breast was revealed. How deep it was they could not know. Marian held out her handkerchief, and it was first used to stopthe flow of blood. When it was taken away she put it in her bosom. The old servant, Margy, now rushed in with lamentations. "Hush!" said Mr. Vosburgh, sternly. "Chafe that other wrist withbrandy. " But the swoon was prolonged, and Marian, pallid to her lips, sighedand moaned as she did her father's bidding. Thomas was not very long in bringing a good physician, who hadoften attended the family. Marian watched his face as if she wereto read there a verdict in regard to her own life, and Mr. Vosburghevinced scarcely less solicitude. "His pulse certainly shows great exhaustion; but I cannot yetbelieve that it is a desperate case. We must first tally him, andthen I will examine his wound. Mr. Vosburgh, lift him up, and letme see if I cannot make him swallow a little diluted brandy. " At last Merwyn revived somewhat, but did not seem conscious of whatwas passing around him. The physician made a hasty examination ofthe wound and said, "It is not so severe as to be fatal in itself, but I don't like the hot, dry, feverish condition of his skin. " "He was feverish before he received the wound, " said Marian, in awhisper. "I fear he has been going far beyond his strength. " "I entreat you, sir, not to leave him, " said Mr. Vosburgh, "untilyou can give us more hope. " "Rest assured that I shall not. I am the family physician, and Ishall secure for him in the morning the best surgical aid in thecity. All that can be done in these times shall be done. Hereafterthere must be almost absolute quiet, especially when he begins tonotice anything. He must not be moved, or be allowed to move, untilI say it is safe. Perhaps if all retire, except myself and Thomas, he will be less agitated when he recovers consciousness. Margy, you make good, strong coffee, and get an early breakfast. " They all obeyed his suggestions at once. The servant showed Mr. Vosburgh and his daughter into a sitting-roomon the same floor, and the poor girl, relieved from the necessityof self-restraint, threw herself on a lounge and sobbed and moanedas if her heart was breaking. Wise Mr. Vosburgh did not at first restrain her, except by soothing, gentle words. He knew that this was nature's relief, and that shewould soon be the better and calmer for it. The physician wondered at the presence of strangers in the Merwynresidence, and speedily saw how Marian felt towards his patient; buthe had observed professional reticence, knowing that explanationswould soon come. Meanwhile he carefully sought to rally his patient, and watched each symptom. At last Merwyn opened his eyes and asked, feebly: "Where am I? Whathas happened?" "You were injured, but are doing well, " was the prompt reply. "Youknow me, Dr. Henderson, and Thomas is here also. You are in yourown room. " "Yes, I see, " and he remained silent for some little time; thensaid, "I remember all now. " "You must keep quiet and try not to think, Mr. Merwyn. Your lifedepends upon it. " "My mind has a strong disposition to wander. " "The more need of quiet. " "Miss Vosburgh is here. I must see her. " "Yes, by and by. " "Doctor, I fear I am going to be out of my mind. I must see MissVosburgh. I will see her; and if you are wise you will permit me todo so. My life depends upon it more than upon your skill. Do whatI ask, and I will be quiet" "Very well, then, but the interview must be brief. " "It must be as I say. " Marian was summoned. Hastily drying her eyes, she tried to suppressher strong emotion. Merwyn feebly reached out his hand to her, and she sat down besidehim. "Do not try to talk, " she whispered, taking his hand. "Yes, I must while I am myself. Dr. Henderson, I love and honorthis girl, and would make her my wife should she consent. I maybe dying, but if she is willing to stay with me, it seems as ifI could live through everything, fever and all. If she is willingand you do not permit her to stay, I want you to know that my bloodis on your hands! Marian, are you willing to stay?" "Yes, " she replied; and then, leaning down, she whispered: "I dolove you; I have loved you ever since I understood you. Oh, livefor my sake! What would life be now without you?" "Now you shall stay. " "See, doctor, he is quiet while I am with him, " she said, pleadingly. "And only while you are with me. I know I should die if you weresent away. " "She shall stay with you, Mr. Merwyn, if you obey my orders inother respects. I give you my word, " said Dr. Henderson. "Very well. Now have patience with me. " "Thomas, " whispered the physician, "have the strongest beef teamade, and keep it on hand. " Mr. Vosburgh intercepted the man, and was briefly told what hadtaken place. "Now there is a chance for them both, " the agitatedfather muttered, as he restlessly paced the room. "Oh, how terriblyclouded would our lives be, should he die!" CHAPTER LII. MOTHER AND SON. FOR a time Merwyn did keep quiet, but he soon began to mutterbrokenly and unintelligibly. Marian tried to remove her hand toaid the physician a moment, but she felt the feeble tightening ofhis clasp, and he cried, "No, no!" This, for days, was the last sign he gave of intelligent comprehensionof what was going on around him. "We must humor him as far as we can in safety, " the doctor remarked, in a low whisper, and so began the battle for life. Day was now dawning, and Thomas was despatched for a very skilfulsurgeon, who came and gave the help of long experience. At last Dr. Henderson joined Mr. Vosburgh in the breakfast-room, andthe latter sent a cup of coffee to his daughter by the physician, who said, when he returned: "I think it would be well for me toknow something about Mr. Merwyn's experience during the past fewdays. I shall understand his condition better if I know the causeswhich led to it. " Mr. Vosburgh told him everything. "Well, " said the doctor, emphatically, "we should do all withinhuman effort to save such a young fellow. " "I feel that I could give my life to save him, " Mr. Vosburgh added. Hours passed, and Merwyn's delirium became more pronounced. Hereleased his grasp on Marian's hand, and tossed his arms as if inthe deepest trouble, his disordered mind evidently reverting tothe time when life had been so dark and hopeless. "Chained, chained, " he would mutter. "Cruel, unnatural mother, tochain her son like a slave. My oath is eating out my very heart. SHE despises me as a coward. Oh if she knew what I was facing!"and such was the burden of all his broken words. The young girl now learned the secret which had been so longunfathomed. Vainly, with streaming eyes, she tried at first toreassure him, but the doctor told her it was of no use, the fevermust take its course. Yet her hand upon his brow and cheek oftenseemed to have a subtle, quieting spell. Mr. Vosburgh felt that, whatever happened, he must attend to hisduties. Therefore he went to headquarters and learned that thecrisis of the insurrection had passed. The Seventh Regiment was onduty, and other militia organizations were near at hand. He also related briefly how he had been driven from his home on theprevious night, and was told that policemen were in charge of thebuilding. Having received a permit to enter it, he sent his despatchto Washington, also a quieting telegram to his wife, assuring herthat all danger was past. Then he went to his abandoned home and looked sadly on the havocthat had been made. Nearly all light articles of value had beencarried away, and then, in a spirit of revenge, the rioters haddestroyed and defaced nearly everything. His desk had been broken, but the secret drawer remained undiscovered. Having obtained hisprivate papers, he left the place, and, as it was a rented house, resolved that he would not reside there again. On his return to Merwyn's home, the first one to greet him wasStrahan, his face full of the deepest solicitude. "I have just arrived, " he said. "I first went to your house and wasoverwhelmed at seeing its condition; then I drove here and haveonly learned enough to make me anxious indeed. O my accursed woundand fever! They kept the fact of the riot from me until this morning, and then I learned of it almost by accident, and came instantly inspite of them. " "Mr. Strahan, I entreat you to be prudent. I am overwhelmed withtrouble and fear for Merwyn, and I and mine must cause no moremischief. Everything is being done that can be, and all must bepatient and quiet and keep their senses. " "Oh, I'm all right now. As Merwyn's friend, this is my place. Remember what he did for me. " "Very well. If you are equal to it I shall be glad to have youtake charge here. As soon as I have learned of my daughter's andMerwyn's welfare I shall engage rooms at the nearest hotel, and, ifthe city remains quiet, telegraph for my wife;" and he sent Thomasto Dr. Henderson with a request to see him. "No special change, and there cannot be very soon, " reported thephysician. "But my daughter--she must not be allowed to go beyond her strength. " "I will look after her as carefully as after my other patient, "was the reassuring reply. "It's a strange story, Mr. Strahan, " resumed Mr. Vosburgh, whenthey were alone. "You are undoubtedly surprised that my daughtershould be one of Merwyn's watchers. He saved my life last night, andmy daughter and home the night before. They are virtually engaged. " "Oh that I had been here!" groaned Strahan. "Under the circumstances it was well that you were not. It wouldprobably have cost you your life. Only the strongest and soundestmen could endure the strain. Merwyn came to our assistance from thefirst;" and he told the young officer enough of what had occurredto make it all intelligible to him. Strahan drew a long breath, then said: "He has won her fairly. Ihad suspected his regard for her; but I would rather have had hisopportunity and his wound than be a major-general. " "I appreciate the honor you pay my daughter, but there are somematters beyond human control, " was the kind response. "I understand all that, " said the young man, sadly; "but I canstill be her loyal friend, and that, probably, is all that I evercould have been. " "I, at least, can assure you of our very highest esteem and respect, Mr. Strahan;" and after a few more words the gentlemen parted. The hours dragged on, and at last Dr. Henderson insisted that Marianshould go down to lunch. She first met Strahan in the sitting-room, and sobbed on his shoulder: "O Arthur! I fear he will die, and ifhe does I shall wish to die, too. You must stand by us both likea loyal brother. " "Marian, I will, " he faltered; and he kept his word. He made her take food, and at last inspired her with something ofhis own sanguine spirit. "Oh, what a comfort it is to have you here!" she said, as she wasreturning to her post. "You make despair impossible. " Again the hours dragged slowly on, the stillness of the housebroken only by Merwyn's delirious words. Then, for a time, therewas disquiet in bitter truth. All through the dreadful night just described, an ocean steamer hadbeen ploughing its way towards the port of New York. A pilot hadboarded her off Sandy Hook, and strange and startling had been histidings to the homeward-bound Americans. The Battle of Gettysburg, the capture of Vicksburg, and, above all, the riots had been theburden of his narrations. Among the passengers were Mrs. Merwyn and her daughters. Dwellingon the condition of her son's mind, as revealed by his letter, shehad concluded that she must not delay her departure from England anhour longer than was unavoidable. "It may be, " she thought, "thatonly my presence can restrain him in his madness; for worse thanmadness it is to risk all his future prospects in the South justwhen our arms are crowned with victories which will soon fulfilour hopes. His infatuation with that horrid Miss Vosburgh is thesecret of it all. " Therefore, her heart overflowing with pride and anger, whichincreased with every day of the voyage, she had taken an earliersteamer, and was determined to hold her son to his oath if he hada spark of sanity left. Having become almost a monomaniac in her dream of a Southern empire, she heard in scornful incredulity the rumor of defeat and disasterbrought to her by her daughters. All the pride and passion of herstrong nature was in arms against the bare thought. But at quarantinepapers were received on board, their parallel columns lurid withaccounts of the riot and aglow with details of Northern victories. It appeared to her that she had sailed from well-ordered England, with its congenial, aristocratic circles, to a world of chaos. When the steamer arrived at the wharf, many of the passengers wereafraid to go ashore, but she, quiet, cold, silent, hiding the angerthat raged in her heart, did not hesitate a moment. She came of arace that knew not what fear meant. At the earliest possible momentshe and her daughters entered a carriage and were driven up town. The young girls stared in wonder at the troops and other evidencesof a vast disturbance, and when they saw Madison Square filled withcavalry-horses they exclaimed aloud, "O mamma, see!" "Yes, " said their mother, sternly, "and mark it well. Even theseNorthern people will no longer submit to the Lincoln tyranny. He may win a few brief triumphs, but the day is near when our ownprincely leaders will dictate law and order everywhere. The hourhas air passed when he will have the South only to fight;" and inher prejudice and ignorance she believed her words to be absolutelyinfallible. Strahan met them as they entered, and received but a cold greetingfrom the lady. "Where is Willard?" she asked, hastily. "Mrs. Merwyn, you must prepare yourself for a great shock. Yourson--" Her mind was prepared for but one great disaster, and, her self-controlat last giving way, she almost shrieked, "What! has he taken armsagainst the South?" "Mrs. Merwyn, " replied Strahan, "is that the worst that couldhappen?" A sudden and terrible dread smote the proud woman, and she sunkinto a chair, while young Estelle Merwyn rushed upon Strahan, and, seizing his hand, faltered in a whisper, "Is--is--" but she couldproceed no further. "No; but he soon will be unless reason and affection control youractions and words. Your family physician is here, Mrs. Merwyn, andI trust you will be guided by his counsel. " "Send him to me, " gasped the mother. Dr. Henderson soon came and explained in part what had occurred. "Oh, those Vosburghs!" exclaimed Mrs. Merwyn, with a gestureof unspeakable revolt at the state of affairs. "Well, " she added, with a stern face, "it is my place and not a stranger's to be atmy son's side. " "Pardon me, madam; you cannot go to your son at all in your presentmood. In an emergency like this a physician is autocrat, and yourson's life hangs by a hair. " "Who has a better right--who can do more for a child than a mother?" "That should be true, but--" and he hesitated in embarrassment, fora moment, then concluded, firmly: "Your son is not expecting you, and agitation now might be fatal to him. There are other reasonswhich you will soon understand. " "There is one thing I already understand, --a nameless stranger iswith him, and I am kept away. " "Miss Vosburgh is not a nameless stranger, " said Strahan; "and sheis affianced to your son. " "O Heaven! I shall go mad!" the lady groaned, a tempest of conflictingemotions sweeping through her heart. "Come, Mrs. Merwyn, " said Dr. Henderson, kindly, yet firmly, "takethe counsel of an old friend. Distracted as you naturally are withall these unexpected and terrible events, you must recognize thetruth that you are in no condition to take upon you the care ofyour son now. He would not know you, I fear, yet your voice mightagitate him fatally. I do not forbid you to see him, but I do forbidthat you should speak to him now, and I shall not answer for theconsequences if you do. " "Mamma, mamma, you must be patient and do as Dr. Henderson advises, "cried Estelle. "When you are calm you will see that he is right. If anything should happen you would never forgive yourself. " The mother's bitter protest was passing into a deadlier fear, butshe only said, coldly, "Very well; since such are your decreesI shall go to my room and wait till I am summoned;" and she roseand left the apartment, followed by her elder daughter, a silent, reticent girl, whose spirit her mother had apparently quenched. Estelle lingered until they had gone, and then she turned to Strahan, who said, with an attempt at a smile, "I can scarcely realize thatthis is the little girl whom I used to play with and tease. " But she heeded not his words. Her large, lustrous eyes were dim withtears, as she asked, falteringly, "Tell me the truth, Mr. Strahan;do you think my brother is very ill?" "Yes, " he replied, sadly; "and I hope I may be permitted to remainas one of his watchers. He took care of me, last winter, in analmost mortal illness, and I would gladly do him a like service. " "But you are hurt. Your arm is in a sling. " "My wound is healing, and I could sit by your brother's side aswell as elsewhere. " "You shall remain, " said the girl, emphatically. "I have some ofmamma's spirit, if not all her prejudices. Is this Miss Vosburghsuch a fright?" "I regard her as the noblest and most beautiful girl I ever saw. " "Oh, you do?" "Yes. " "Well, I shall go and talk reason to mamma, for sister Berta yieldsto everything without a word. You must stay, and I shall do myshare of watching as soon as the doctor permits. " Mrs. Merwyn thought she would remain in her room as she had said, but the fountains of the great deep in her soul were breakingup. She found that the mother in her heart was stronger than thepartisan. She MUST see her son. At last she sent Thomas for Dr. Henderson again, and obtainedpermission to look upon her child. Bitter as the physician knewthe experience would be, it might be salutary. With noiseless treadshe crossed the threshold, and saw Marian's pure, pale profile; shedrew a few steps nearer; the young girl turned and bowed gravely, then resumed her watch. For the moment Merwyn was silent, then in a voice all too distincthe said: "Cruel, unnatural mother, to rob me of my manhood, tochain me like one of her slaves. Jeff Davis and empire are more toher than husband or son. " The conscience-stricken woman covered her face with her hands andglided away. As by a lightning-flash the reason why she had forfeitedher place by the couch of her son was revealed. CHAPTER LIII. "MISSY S'WANEE. " THERE is no need of dwelling long on subsequent events. Our storyhas already indicated many of them. Mrs. Merwyn's bitter lesson wasemphasized through many weary days. She hovered about her son likea remorseful spirit, but dared not speak to him. She had learnedtoo well why her voice might cause fatal agitation. For a time shetried to ignore Marian, but the girl's gentle dignity and profoundsorrow, her untiring faithfulness, conquered pride at last, and themother, with trembling lips, asked forgiveness and besought affection. Blauvelt arrived in town on the evening of the day just described, proposing to offer his services to the city authorities, meanwhilecherishing the secret hope that he might serve Marian. He at lastfound Strahan at Merwyn's home. The brother officers talked longand earnestly, but, while both were reticent concerning their deeperthoughts, they both knew that a secret dream was over forever. Marian came down and gave her hand to the artist soldier in warmpressure as she said, "My friends are loyal in my time of need. " He lingered a day or two in the city, satisfied himself that theinsurrection was over, then went home, bade his old mother good-by, and joined his regiment. He was soon transferred to the staff of ageneral officer, and served with honor and distinction to the endof the war. Mrs. Vosburgh joined her husband; and the awful peril throughwhich he and her daughter had passed awakened in her a deeper senseof real life. In contemplation of the immeasurable loss which shemight have sustained she learned to value better what she possessed. By Estelle's tact it was arranged that she could often see Marianwithout embarrassment. So far as her nature permitted she sharedin her husband's boundless solicitude for Merwyn. Warm-hearted Estelle was soon conscious of a sister's affectionfor the girl of her brother's choice, and shared her vigils. Shebecame also a very good friend to Strahan, and entertained a secretadmiration for him, well hidden, however, by a brusque, yet delicateraillery. But Strahan believed that the romance of his life was over, and heeventually joined his regiment with some reckless hopes of "stoppinga bullet" as he phrased it. Gloomy cynicism, however, was not hisforte; and when, before the year was out, he was again promoted, he found that life was anything but a burden, although he was soready to risk it. At last the light of reason dawned in Merwyn's eyes. He recognizedMarian, smiled, and fell into a quiet sleep. On awakening, he saidto her: "You kept your word, my darling. You did not leave me. I should have died if you had. I think I never wholly lost theconsciousness that you were near me. " The young girl soon brought about a complete reconciliation betweenmother and son, and Merwyn was absolved from his oath. Even as adevoted husband, which he became at Christmas-tide, she found himtoo ready to go to the front. He appeared, however, to have littleambition for distinction, and was satisfied to enter upon duty ina very subordinate position; but he did it so well and bravely thathis fine abilities were recognized, and he was advanced. At last, to his mother's horror, he received a colonel's commission to acolored regiment. Many of Mrs. Merwyn's lifelong prejudices were never overcome, andshe remained loyal to the South; but she was taught that mother-loveis the mightiest of human forces, and at last admitted that herson, as a man, had a right to choose and act for himself. Mr. Vosburgh remained in the city as the trusted agent of thegovernment until the close of the war, and was then transferredto Washington. Every year cemented his friendship with Merwyn, and the two men corresponded so faithfully that Marian declaredshe was jealous. Each knew, however, that their mutual regard andgood-comradeship were among her deepest sources of happiness. Whileher husband was absent Marian made the country house on the Hudsonher residence, but in many ways she sought opportunity to reduce theawful sum of anguish entailed by the war. She often lured Estellefrom the city as her companion, even in bleak wintry weather. HereStrahan found her when on a leave of absence in the last year ofthe war, and he soon learned that he had another heart to lose. Marian was discreetly blind to his direct and soldier-like siege. Indeed, she proved the best of allies, aware that the young officer'stime was limited. Estelle was elusive as a mocking spirit of the air, until the lastday of his leave was expiring, and then laughingly admitted thatshe had surrendered almost two years before. Of the humble characters in my story it is sufficient to say thatZeb barely survived, and was helpless for life. Pensions from Merwynand Lane secured for him and his mother every comfort. Barney Gheganeventually recovered, and resumed his duties on the police force. He often said, "Oi'm proud to wear the uniform that Misther Merwynhonored. " I have now only to outline the fortunes of Captain Lane and "MissyS'wanee, " and then to take leave of my reader, supposing that hehas had the patience to accompany me thus far. Lane's wound, reopened by his exertions in escaping to Washington, kept him helpless on a bed of suffering during the riots and forweeks thereafter. Then he was granted a long furlough, which hespent chiefly with his family at the North. Like Strahan he feltthat Merwyn had won Marian fairly. So far was he from cherishingany bitterness, that he received the successful rival within thecircle of his nearest friends. By being sincere, true to nature andconscience, Marian retained, not only the friendship and respectof her lovers, but also her ennobling influence over them. Whilethey saw that Merwyn was supreme, they also learned that they wouldnever be dismissed with indifference from her thoughts, --that shewould follow them through life with an affectionate interest andgood-will scarcely less than she would bestow on brothers cradledin the same home with herself. Lane, with his steadfast nature, would maintain this relation more closely than the others, but thereader has already guessed that he would seek to give and to findconsolation elsewhere. Suwanee Barkdale had awakened his strongestsympathy and respect, and the haunting thought that she, like himself, had given her love apparently where it could not be returned, madeher seem akin to himself in the deepest and saddest experience. Gradually and almost unconsciously he gave his thoughts to her, and began to wonder when and how they should meet again, if ever. He wrote to her several times, but obtained no answer, no assurancethat his letters were received. When he was fit for duty again hisregiment was in the West, and it remained there until the close ofthe war, he having eventually attained to its command. As soon as he could control his own movements he resolvedto settle one question before he resumed the quiet pursuit of hisprofession, --he would learn the fate of "Missy S'wanee. " Securinga strong, fleet horse, he left Washington, and rode rapidly througha region that had been trampled almost into a desert by the ironheel of war. The May sun was low in the west when he turned from theroad into the extended lawn which led up to the Barkdale mansion. Little beyond unsightly stumps was left of the beautiful groves bywhich it had been bordered. Vividly his memory reproduced the same hour, now years since, whenhe had ridden up that lawn at the head of his troopers, his sabreflashing in the last rays of the sun. It seemed ages ago, so muchhad happened; but through all the changes and perils the low sob ofthe Southern girl when she opened the way for his escape had beenvibrating in stronger and tenderer chords in the depths of his soul. It had awakened dreams and imaginings which, if dissipated, wouldleave but a busy, practical life as devoid of romance as the law-tomesto which he would give his thoughts. It was natural, therefore, that his heart should beat fast as he approached the solution ofa question bearing so vitally on all his future. He concealed himself and his horse behind some low, shrubby treesthat had been too insignificant for the camp fires, long sinceburned out, and scanned the battered dwelling. No sign of life wasvisible. He was about to proceed and end his suspense at once, whena lady, clad in mourning, came out and sat down on the veranda. Heinstantly recognized Suwanee. For a few moments Lane could scarcely summon courage to approach. The surrounding desolation, her badges of bereavement and sorrow, gave the young girl the dignity and sacredness of immeasurablemisfortune. She who had once so abounded in joyous, spirited lifenow seemed emblematical of her own war-wasted and unhappy land, --oneto whom the past and the dead were more than the future and theliving. Would she receive him? Would she forgive him, one of the authorsof her people's bleeding wounds? He determined to end his suspense, and rode slowly towards her, that she might not be startled. At first she did not recognize the stranger in civilian dress, who was still more disguised by a heavy beard; but she rose andapproached the veranda steps to meet him. He was about to speak, when she gave a great start, and a quick flush passed over herface. Then, as if by the sternest effort, she resumed her quiet, dignifiedbearing, as she said, coldly, "You will scarcely wonder, CaptainLane, that I did not recognize you before. " He had dismounted andstood uncovered before her, and she added, "I regret that I haveno one to take your horse, and no place to stable him, but foryourself I can still offer such hospitality as my home affords. " Lane was chilled and embarrassed. He could not speak to her inlike distant and formal manner, and he resolved that he would not. However it might end, he would be true to his own heart and impulses. He threw the reins on the horse's neck, caring not what becameof him, and stepping to her side, he said, impetuously, "I neverdoubted that I should receive hospitality at your home, --that isrefused to no one, --but I did hope for a different greeting. " Again there was a quick, auroral flush, and then, with increasedpallor and coldness, she asked, "Have I failed in courtesy?" "No. " "What reason had you to expect more?" "Because, almost from the first hour we met, I had given you esteemand reverence as a noble woman, --because I promised you honestfriendship and have kept my word. " Still more coldly she replied: "I fear there can be no friendshipbetween us. My father and brothers lie in nameless graves in yourproud and triumphant North, and my heart and hope are buried withthem. My mother has since died, broken-hearted; Roberta's husband, the colonel you sent to prison, is a crippled soldier, and bothare so impoverished that they know not how to live. And you, --youhave been so busy in helping those who caused these woes that youevidently forgot the once light-hearted girl whom you first saw onthis veranda. Why speak of friendship, Captain Lane, when riversof blood flow between us, --rivers fed from the veins of my kindred?" Her words were so stern and sad that Lane sat down on the steps ather feet and buried his face in his hands. His hope was witheringand his tongue paralyzed in the presence of such grief as hers. She softened a little as she looked down upon him, and after amoment or two resumed: "I do not blame you personally. I must tryto be just in my bitter sorrow and despair. You proved long agothat you were obeying your conscience; but you who conquer cannotknow the hearts of the conquered. Your home does not look likemine; your kindred are waiting to welcome you with plaudits. Youhave everything to live for, --honor, prosperity, and love; fordoubtless, long before this, the cold-hearted Northern girl hasbeen won by the fame of your achievements. Think of me as a ghost, doomed to haunt these desolate scenes where once I was happy. " "No, " he replied, springing to his feet, "I shall think of you asthe woman I love. Life shall not end so unhappily for us both; forif you persist in your morbid enmity, my future will be as wretchedas yours. You judge me unheard, and you wrong me cruelly. I havenever forgotten you for an hour. I wrote to you again and again, and received no answer. The moment I was released from the iron ruleof military duty in the West I sought you before returning to themother who bore me. No river of blood flows between us that my lovecould not bridge. I admit that I was speechless at first beforethe magnitude of your sorrows; but must this accursed war go onforever, blighting life and hope? What was the wound you did so muchtowards healing compared to the one you are giving me now? Many ablow has been aimed at me, but not one has pierced my heart before. " She tried to listen rigidly and coldly to his impassioned utterance, but could not, and, as he ceased, she was sobbing in her chair. He sought with gentle words to soothe her, but by a gesture shesilenced him. At last she said, brokenly: "For months I have not shed a tear. Myheart and brain seemed bursting, yet I could get no relief. Wereit not for some faith and hope in God, I should have followed mykindred. You cannot know, you never can know. " "I know one thing, Suwanee. You were once a brave, unselfish woman. I will not, I cannot believe that you have parted with your noble, generous impulses. You may remain cold to me if I merely plead mycause for your sake, that I may bring consolation and healing intoyour life; but I still have too much faith in your large, warm, Southern heart to believe that you will blight my life also. If youcan never love me, give me the right to be your loyal and helpfulfriend. Giving you all that is best and most sacred in my naturehow can you send me away as if I had no part or lot in your life?It is not, cannot be true. When I honor you and would give my lifefor you, and shall love you all my days, it is absurd to say thatI am nothing to you. Only embodied selfishness and callousness couldsay that. You may not be able to give what I do, but you shouldgive all you can. 'Rivers of blood flowing between us' is morbidnonsense. Forgive me that I speak strongly, --I feel strongly. Mysoul is in my words. I felt towards my cause as you towards yours, and had I not acted as I have, you would be the first to think mea craven. But what has all this to do with the sacred instinct, the pure, unbounded love which compels me to seek you as my wife?" "You have spoken such words to another, " she said, in a low tone. "No, never such words as I speak to you. I could not have spokenthem, for then I was too young and immature to feel them. I didlove Miss Vosburgh as sincerely as I now respect and esteem her. She is the happy wife of another man. I speak to you from the depthsof my matured manhood. What is more I speak with the solemnity andtruth which your sorrows should inspire. Should you refuse my handit will never be offered to another, and you know me well enoughto be sure I will keep my word. " "Oh, can it be right?" cried the girl, wringing her hands. "One question will settle all: Can you return my love?" With that query light came into her mind as if from heaven. Shesaw that such love as theirs was the supreme motive, the supremeobligation. She rose and fixed her lovely, tear-gemmed eyes upon him searchinglyas she asked, "Would you wed me, a beggar, dowered only with sorrowand bitter memories?" "I will wed you, Suwanee Barkdale, or no one. " "There, " she said, with a wan smile, holding out her hand; "theNorth has conquered again. " "Suwanee, " he said, gravely and gently, as he caressed the headbowed upon his breast, "let us begin right. For us two there isno North or South. We are one for time, and I trust for eternity. But do not think me so narrow and unreasonable as to expect that youshould think as I do on many questions. Still more, never imaginethat I shall chide you, even in my thoughts, for love of yourkindred and people, or the belief that they honestly and heroicallydid what seemed to them their duty. When you thought yourself sucha hopeless little sinner, and I discovered you to be a saint, didI not admit that your patriotic impulses were as sincere as my own?As it has often been in the past, time will settle all questionsbetween your people and ours, and time and a better knowledge ofeach other will heal our mutual wounds. I wish to remove fear anddistrust of the immediate future from your mind, however. I must takeyou to a Northern home, where I can work for you in my profession, but you can be your own true self there, --just what you were whenyou first won my honor and esteem. The memory of your brave fatherand brothers shall be sacred to me as well as to you. I shall expectyou to change your feelings and opinions under no other compulsionthan that of your own reason and conscience. Shall you fear to gowith me now? I will do everything that you can ask if you will onlybless me with your love. " "I never dreamed before that it could be so sweet to bless anenemy, " she said, with a gleam of her old mirthfulness, "and I havedreamed about it. O Fenton, I loved you unsought, and the truthnearly killed me at first, but I came at last to be a little proudof it. You were so brave, yet considerate, so fair and generoustowards us, that you banished my prejudices, and you won my heartby believing there was some good in it after all. " A white shock of wool surmounting a wrinkled, ebon visage appearedat the door, and the old cook said, "Missy S'wanee, dere's nuffin'in de house for supper but a little cawn-meal. Oh, bress de Lawd!if dere ain't Cap'n Lane!" "Give us a hoe-cake, then, " cried Lane, shaking the old woman's hand. "I'd rather sup with your mistress to-night on corn-meal than sitdown to the grandest banquet you have ever prepared in the past. In the morning I'll forage for breakfast. " "Bress de Lawd!" said the old woman, as she hobbled away. "Goodtimes comin' now. If I could jes' hear Missy S'wanee larf oncemo';" and then she passed beyond hearing. "Yes, Suwanee, if I could only hear your old sweet laugh once more!"Lane pleaded. "Not yet, Fenton; not yet, --some day. " THE END