THE UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 THE WILMER COLLECTION 
 
 OF CIVIL WAR NOVELS 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 RICHARD H. WILMER, JR. 
 
6 
 
 /hW/^4 ^ 
 
Digitized by tine Internet Arciiive 
 
 in 2010 witii funding from 
 
 University of Nortii Carolina at Chapel Hill 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/stormypetrelhistOObowl 
 
"And he tossed the babe, which came spinning through the air directly into CI 
 arms." — Page 6 
 
THE 
 
 _5)T0rmyT?etrel 
 
 A.N 
 
 1b!0toi1cal IRomance 
 
 BY 
 
 COL. JOHN BOWLES 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 A. LOVELL & C^O, 
 
 LOXUOX 
 
 WALTER SCOTT 
 
Copyrighted in 1892 
 JOHN BOWLES 
 
 All rights reserved. 
 
DEDICATION. 
 
 TO 
 
 AN INTELLIGENT 
 
 AND UNITED PEOPLE, NORTH 
 
 AND SOUTH, WITH ONE COUNTRY, ONE 
 
 FLAG AND ONE COMMON DESTINY, THIS LITTLE 
 
 VOLUME IS IN THE UTMOST FRATERNITY 
 
 AND WITH THE GREATEST 
 
 PLEASURE, SINCERELY 
 
 DEDICATED. 
 
 602728 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 On looking backward from the present time it is diffi- 
 cult to realize that almost half a century has passed since 
 the events related in the opening chapter of this little 
 volume occurred, and what wonders have been wrought 
 by that master-magician — Time ! 
 
 On the banks of that great river where the little Petrel, 
 bound by law to a merciless master, was cast, before 
 the wondering gaze of the author, upon the troubled 
 waters of a stormy life, there now waves the flag of free- 
 dom for all men, white and black alike, encompassing 
 within its sacred folds the lowly and the lofty, the rich 
 and the poor, from the Gulf of Mexico to the St. Law- 
 rence, and from the Atlantic to the Pacific. 
 
 The angry passions of the border strife, then just 
 awakening into fury, have well-nigh burned out, after a 
 terrific contest of four years and the more than twent}'- 
 five of recuperation and repose. 
 
 The North and South are better acquainted, and 
 hence better friends, with juster estimate of each other's 
 attributes. The South no longer accuses the North of 
 cold, commercial " cowardice," nor does the North speak 
 sneeringly of Southern "bluster and braggadocio." How 
 far from the truth were these epithets recent history re- 
 counts. If love of country and determination to defend 
 with life and fortune cherished and sacred rights, as 
 understood by each, if these be patriotism and heroism, 
 then was this country. North and South, filled with pa- 
 triots and heroes of the highest order. 
 
 The contents of this story are in a great measure rem- 
 iniscent, and the impelling motive in writing, or rather 
 in publishing it, has been to do justice to characters 
 whose acts and motives have been too long and widely 
 misunderstood. 
 
PREFACE, 
 
 Since the passions of the hour, together with man}^ of 
 the chief actors have passed away, the author feels at Hb- 
 erty to do this act of justice to the memory of the innocent, 
 without harm to the guilty or fear of giving pain to the 
 misguided of either section. In dealing with historical 
 events, the author has been careful to state only what 
 he knows personally or has upon reliable testimony; 
 while in that which relates to the Southern people, he 
 has quite naturally, being himself a Southerner, earnestly 
 striven to be fair and just. Having but few friends to 
 reward, and no enemies to punish, there has been nothing- 
 extenuated, nor aught set down in malice. 
 
 J.B. 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 One stormy day in November, 185-, at a point not far 
 from the confluence of the Mississippi and Missouri, a 
 man could have been seen \vall<ing with rapid, swinging 
 gait down the steep bluff of the western bank of the river. 
 His tall form was enveloped in a capacious fur-trimmed 
 overcoat and top-boots, while a soft felt hat was drawn 
 well down over a handsome face, the cleanly-cut lines of 
 which were only partially veiled by a brown beard and 
 mustache. 
 
 He paused for a moment, and gazed intently upon the 
 scene. Ragged islands of floating ice, of every imagina- 
 ble shape, covered the surface of the great river, which 
 glided serpent-like on its devious way, with these great, 
 glistening scales upon its back, as if eager to meet its 
 mighty rival, the Mississippi, which, clad in like polar 
 coat-of-mail, was waiting only a few miles beyond. There 
 these giants would meet and grapple, rush on and on in 
 fierce struggle for the master}', each maintaining its sepa- 
 rate and distinct life until melted and forced to mingle 
 under the burning sun of the Gulf of Mexico. 
 
 After pausing for a moment to enjoy the wild spectacle, 
 Frank Clayton walked on rapidly, as if to keep pace with 
 some great section or continent of ice, that now stood on 
 end, and again on one side, till at last, with a thundering 
 swash, it was merged into the mass of its fellows. 
 
 The table-land extending along the opposite bank of 
 the Missouri shut out the view beyond, until circumscribed 
 to the limits of the little county town of St, Charles, with 
 
b THE STORMY PETREL, 
 
 its red brick couri-lKjust;, its modest cliurch-spires, a few 
 IDretentious stores and dwellings, and the country inn, dig- 
 nified by the nanie Palace Hotel, while near it was the 
 ferry-boat, lying at the water's edge, now crowded by the 
 ice-gorge out upon the bank. There was no smoke-stack 
 to this wonderful craft, and only the semblance of a cabin, 
 with pilot-house |)eiched on top. From the window of the 
 cabin stood peering out the motor-power of this nonde- 
 script boat, a mule, his long ears moving back and forth, 
 in defiance of, or opposition to, the war of elements, and 
 his sonorous voice at this moment raised to its highest 
 pitch, as if in protest at some new injustice. 
 
 As Clayton approached the dock, his attention was at- 
 tracted to a strange group just embarking in a skifT, evi- 
 dently intent on forcing their way across to the St. Louis 
 shore. He observed a large man standing in the stern of 
 the boat, which was still fast to the land, and holding 
 what seemed to be a bundle of some kind in his hands, 
 raised as if to cast it into the surging torrents of ice and 
 water that went roaring by. He heard distinctly the wail 
 of a babe and the angry oath of the man, calling out to a 
 few persons who were standing on the shore : " Here, 
 some of you take this damned brat, or by God, I'll throw 
 it in the river ! " 
 
 Clayton saw that the brute was in earnest ; and, springing 
 with a bound down the cliff, holding out his arms, he said 
 fiercely : " What are you doing, man ! Are you a mur- 
 derer ? " 
 
 With a savage laugh, the trader, for such he was, tossed 
 the babe, which came spinning through the air, directly 
 into Clayton's arms, while from the stern of the boat came 
 a piercing cry, as of a broken heart ; and he saw a woman's 
 form sink down, holding out her manacled arms in speech- 
 less agony. "Push off!" said the trader. " And some 
 of you look to that wench that she doesn't get over- 
 board." 
 
 " No danger ob dat, niassa. She done fainted, I 'spec," 
 said one of the negroes. 
 
 "Throw water in her face, and she'll be all right," 
 shouted the driver, as the boat pushed out from the bank, 
 the boatmen busy with pikes and poles, parting the ice to 
 prevent its crushing the frail craft. 
 
 All upon the wharf stood breathless, expecting to see 
 
 mk' 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 7 
 
 the boat and its contents swallowed up by the mad torrent, 
 as they made toward the opposite shore. The shouts of 
 the boatmen, the oaths of the trader, the cries of the 
 frightened slaves, the shrieking of the wind, and the roar 
 of the ice-fioe, made confusion worse confounded. 
 
 Clayton stood spell-bound, watching the scene, and hold- 
 ing in his arms the little waif, while the frightened cries of 
 the slaves became fainter and fainter as the boat receded, 
 and the crowd which had gathered, dispersed. 
 
 The child seemed to feel the magnetism of Clayton's 
 sheltering arms, for it lay perfectly quiet while he opened 
 the wraps to look at the little creature so strangely cast 
 upon his mercy. A pair of soft brown eyes looked con- 
 fidingly into his, and he felt a strange thrill of tender- 
 ness as a tiny, warm hand closed trustfully over his 
 finger. 
 
 "Poor little waif,'' said he; "poor little bird, which 
 stress of weather has sent fluttering into my arms, like the 
 little stormy petrel, I shall not disappoint you, my little 
 Petrel ! I shall protect you always."' And somehow 
 Clayton's eyes did not see quite as clearly as before. 
 
 And now, what was to be done ? He thought at once 
 of the motherly woman at the inn near by, and had soon 
 placed his strange charge in the capacious lap of Tabitha 
 Handy. 
 
 " Well, I never ! " that good woman said when she had 
 heard the story. "Well, I never!" she said again and 
 again. "Why, it's as white as a snowflake ! " And she 
 adjusted her spectacles and critically examined the little 
 one. "And she ain't no white trash, neither! Look at 
 them hands and them ears, Mr. Clayton," said she, with 
 warming interest. " Now, for the Lord's sake, what was 
 it doin with them niggers and that tradin feller ? Mr. 
 Clayton," said she solemnly, " that child is stole ! Sure 
 as you're a born man, that child is stole ! " 
 
 " It may be," said Clayton, thoughtfully. "And yet — 
 no, that cry from the boat — such a cry as that could only 
 have been wrung from a mother's heart." 
 
 Clayton stepped outside the door for a moment, to ask 
 a question of some one who had observed these people, 
 and might be able to give information concerning them, 
 leaving Tabitha crooning in delight over the child. 
 
 " Mr. Clayton ! O Mr, Clayton ! " .she called, with the 
 
5 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 peculiar falling inflection of that phrase in southern lati- 
 tudes. " O Mr. Clayton ! " 
 
 "What is it.'"' said Clayton, returning. 
 
 " What's her name ? What will you call her.^* " 
 
 " Well, I don't know," said he, hesitating. " Petrel 
 will do," said he, after a moment. " Yes, call her Petrel." 
 
 " Petrel ? " said Tabitha, " Petrel ? Well, of all hea- 
 thenish names ! But it's of a piece with the whole out- 
 landish business. There's been some powerful queer 
 things in my life, but this beats all I ever seen ! Only 
 to think ! She might er been floatin round under one of 
 them big cakes of ice,'" — and at this point Tabitha ad- 
 dressed herself to the baby; — "stid er bein here so warm 
 and comfortable. And it's a beauty, so it is ! " 
 
 There is, as everybody knows, a universal language — a 
 sort of baby-Volapuk — which is supposed to be adapted 
 to the infant understanding in all lands ; and Aunt Tabi- 
 tha was mistress of the resources of this language. She 
 chirruped and chuckled, and grew red in the face making 
 grimaces and sounds impossible to be represented here, 
 but which were supposed to be vastly entertaining to 
 Miss Petrel, who gazed in mild, unwinking wonder at 
 this new scene in a new world, with a calm superiority, as 
 if she might be saying, " What fools these mortals be! " 
 
 " Poor little dear, poor little dear ! " And the warm- 
 hearted woman busied herself making a soft nest for the 
 storm-tossed bird, and clucked over her in as much de- 
 light as a hen over its one little downy chicken. 
 
 Clayton was impressed with the idea that the child had 
 been stolen ; and yet the swooning of the slave and her 
 imploring words seemed to come from the pleading of a 
 mother's heart. 
 
 Every effort was made during the day to induce some 
 of the boatmen to ferry him over the river, but to no 
 purpose ; for the ice was running thicker and faster than 
 during the morning. The captain of the ferry-boat, run 
 by mule-power, was a man of large river experience, and 
 advised against an attempt to cross with such a run of 
 ice. He said the night would be cold, and by morning 
 the river would bridge over. Then reckless men who 
 were willing to risk their lives were at liberty to do so, 
 "but he vvarn't goin to help em kill themselves." 
 
 So Clayton waited impatiently, till, on the following 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 9 
 
 morning, from his hotel window, he observed that the ice 
 stood still in tlie river, and resolved upon the effort to 
 cross and make his way to St. Louis as rapidly as possi- 
 ble, to learn the fate of the mother of the little waif who 
 was snatched from the jaws of death. 
 
 " Stranger," said the captain, " hold that ere pole eggz- 
 actly in the middle, and pick your way carefully along, so 
 if you step through one of them infernal slush-holes 
 atween them cakes of ice, your pole will hold you up, if 
 \ ou'll only stick to it, which I advise you to do closer an 
 death to a dead nigger. It's your only salvation in a 
 ]ilace like that. Don't try to go straight across, but 
 kinder lean down to our dock, an I guess you'll come 
 over all right." 
 
 Clayton made the perilous passage as a group of boat- 
 men stood watching him from shore ; and when safely 
 landed found a conveyance, and set out for St. Louis. 
 He met parties who had seen the slave-driver and the 
 gang of negroes, and also the men who had ferried them 
 over the river. One of them volunteered the informa- 
 tion that the woman had been loaded into a wagon and 
 hauled away, "talking like wild" about the baby, and 
 " actin like she was boun ter kill herself." 
 
 "What color was she ? " said Cla\ton. " Very light .'' " 
 
 " Kinder lightish copper-colored ; I should say a mu- 
 latto or about 'alf and 'alf," shouted one of the crew, 
 who was evidently an Englishman. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 We will leave the Petrel safe in the care of Mrs. 
 Handy, and Clayton on his search for the proper guard- 
 ians of the child, while we briefly review the circum- 
 stances which led up to the dramatic incident related in 
 the last chapter. 
 
 Frank Clayton's earliest home was a plantation upon 
 the Rapid River in the Blue-Grass Region, where Nature 
 seems to have lavished her richest treasures. 
 
 Major Lucas, his grandfather, was a gentleman of the 
 old school, whose ancestors came over from England with 
 Lord Baltimore and settled in Maryland. A son of the 
 third generation emigrated to Kentucky and built the 
 substantial Queen Anne house, with its antique gables, 
 which was known as the Lucas Homestead. This stately 
 old home contained relics, which were priceless heir- 
 looms in the family, rich and rare enough to turn the head 
 of the modern collector. 
 
 The tall clock upon the stairs, which had tolled out 
 the happy hours of Frank's childhood, was of fabulous 
 age, and the silver tankard and goblets upon the massive 
 side-board, had been used upon festive occasions in the 
 days of Queen Elizabeth. 
 
 In this home, the early days of Frank Clayton were 
 passed with his widowed mother; and looking back 
 to his idyllic childhood from the troubled days that fol- 
 lowed, it seemed like a dream of Arcadia. 
 
 The Cherokee rose that climbed over the piazza, framed 
 a living picture of mother and son — a picture always 
 fresh and new. After two years of happy married life, 
 Fanny Clayton was left a widow, but also a mother. The 
 boy, who bore his father's name, seemed a treasure left 
 to her care, for which she was to give an account ; and so 
 it happened that foi the first ten years of Frank's life, 
 he had for companion, play-mate, teacher and lover, this 
 young mother, who left the strong impress of her own 
 mind and character upon her son. 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. H 
 
 There is an insidious disease, which sometimes even in 
 the genial climate of Kentucky, seeks its victims. Fanny 
 Clayton may have inherited her ethereal loveliness from 
 some remote ancestor, quite unlike the queenly daughters 
 of her own State. Her fragile form became more and 
 more slight, and the dark eyes larger, while a hectic flush 
 deepened the color ; and, in due time, consumption claimed 
 its victim. 
 
 After the funeral, the house seemed so desolate. Judge 
 Stanley, who was judge of the Supreme Court of Ken- 
 tucky, took the little boy home with him to " Beechwood," 
 where he shared with his cousin, Kate, Judge Stanley's 
 only child, lessons from her governess. 
 
 With his dog and pony, he was Kate's escort and com- 
 panion in exploring the beautiful woods that border 
 "Rapid River," for " Beechwood " was only three miles 
 from " The Glen," his former home. 
 
 It seemed hard to exchange these childish pleasures for 
 the training of the military school. " But you must pre- 
 pare, my dear boy," said Judge Stanley, " for the rough 
 and tumble of life, as — who knows.'' — you may have to 
 scale a fortress or lead a forlorn hope." 
 
 But instead of a soldier, Frank Clayton became a 
 lawyer. He was naturally a student, and adopted the 
 scholarly profession of his uncle, attending law lectures 
 at Louisville, and entering the office of Mr. Wyckliffe, a 
 distinguished member of the bar of that city. 
 
 The marriage of his cousin, Kate, to Bernard Fletcher, 
 summoned Frank to " Beechwood." 
 
 Judge Stanley, who loved and greatly admired his 
 nephew, had long and secretly entertained the hope that 
 in time, a marriage between the two cousins would unite 
 the plantations of " Beechwood " and '' The Glen." But 
 Frank, with no slightest thought of sentiment for his 
 charming cousin, excepting that of brother and protector, 
 had observed what her father had not — that is, her grow- 
 ing interest in the handsome young Kentuckian, Bernard 
 Fletcher. The two men were by nature thoroughly an- 
 tagonistic — Frank, tall and slight, with deep-blue eyes, 
 brown beard, and straight, Greek profile. His quick per- 
 ceptions, strong sympathies, and keen sense of justice 
 finding their soil in the temperment of a poet and an 
 artist — to which was added a dash of the philosopher, 
 
12 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 just sufficient to serve as an amalgam, to fuse the whole. 
 But Bernard Fletcher, dark-eyed and broad-shouldered, 
 who could ride like a Comanche, bring down with his 
 rifle anything that can fly, and could woo as well as he 
 could ride or shoot — picturesque — heroic — he it was who 
 had won Kate's heart. 
 
 And to tell the truth, that gentleman was not surprised, 
 nor did he consider it more than his due. He was in 
 love with Kate Stanley after his fashion, but was not at 
 all insensible to the fact that she was an only child, and 
 prospective owner of a splendid estate. In fact, he told 
 himself quite in confidence, that he had never met so 
 nice a combination of personal charms, broad acres, fine 
 intelligence, quick, warm sensibilities, perfect manners, 
 and most important of all — the bluest blood in Kentucky. 
 For be it known, this benedict was a patrician of the 
 patricians ; and would have thrown over the woman he 
 loved, broad acres and all, and broken her heart into the 
 bargain, rather than abate one jot his ideas of caste. 
 
 " I tell you, my dear fellow," he would say, as he 
 watched the blue rings of smoke interlacing in delicious 
 curves over his handsome head, " I tell you, blood will 
 tell." 
 
 Frank had fixed his keen blue eyes upon him many a 
 time, as he delivered himself of this and other views of 
 life ; but had said nothing, nor intimated to Kate that 
 he had small respect for the man who was to be her 
 husband. And so, th.e thin surface of decent amity was 
 never broken, although both men were perfectly aware of 
 the antagonisms and repulsions it covered. And so it 
 was that Frank made the best of things, and came on to 
 the weddmg, which happened to be appointed for the 
 day commemorating also his twenty-first birthday. 
 
 The wedding festivities had passed away as they are 
 wont to do, with flowers, and laughter, and smiles, and 
 tears, and congratulations, and rice, and slippers; hearts 
 heavy, and hearts glad — and it was all over. 
 
 The last carriage had rolled away ; Kate had lifted her 
 bright, though tear-stained face to be kissed by her father 
 and Frank, and the handkerchief which fluttered from 
 the carriage window had disappeared at the turn of the 
 road. 
 
 Judge Stanley and his nephew came back into the now 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. I3 
 
 deserted house, both silent and oppressed with its still- 
 ness. Each tried to hide the gloom he felt at sight of the 
 scattered flowers and confused traces of the recent 
 scene. 
 
 When the lamps were lighted, and they sat in the library, 
 things seemed rather better. Judge Stanley said : "Well, 
 my boy, I have not forgotten that this day is an impor- 
 tant one for you, as well as for the rest of us. Twenty- 
 one years old to-day," said he, musingly. " How time 
 does steal upon us ! Why, it seems only yesterday that 
 your mother — ah, well," and his voice trembled as he 
 spoke, " well, well, Frank, now to business," and he put 
 on his briskest tone. " Now, here," said he, opening a 
 locked drawer, " here, Frank, is your grandfather's will, 
 and the papers that secure to you the inheritance of his 
 estate. I have done my duty as executor, and you now 
 come into possession of the plantation of The Glen, and 
 forty negroes. This makes you independent of any pro- 
 fession. I suppose you'll keep Sparks as overseer ?" 
 
 "No, sir!" said Clayton, flushing, and showing much 
 feeling. " Uncle, Sparks is a coarse, unfeeling man, utterly 
 unfit to hold power over these helpless creatures. Old 
 Ned tells me " 
 
 " Frank," interrupted his uncle, with some severity, 
 " you are very inexperienced and have much to learn on 
 this subject. If you want to spoil your negroes utterly, 
 consult with them in this manner, and allow them to crit- 
 icise white people. It is all wrong, my dear boy," he 
 added, more gently. "Sparks is not a bad man, and he 
 can get more work out of them, twice over, than you or I 
 could." 
 
 "I have long been looking forward to this responsibil- 
 ity, my dear uncle," said Frank, very steadily and very 
 respectfully, " and I have resolved to manage my own 
 hands for this year, if you will give me advice as I need it. 
 I will organize matters at The Glen, and leave Uncle 
 Ned in charge while I go to Louisville and make my ar- 
 rangements for the change." 
 
 " Well, my boy, you will find these fine-spun theories do 
 not work well ; but experience will be the best teacher. I 
 will give you the benefit of my ten years on theplantation, 
 if you are bent on trying this foolish experiment." And 
 the old gentleman sighed as he went up-stairs in the great 
 
14 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 empty house. Kate's marriage was not the on]\^ thing 
 which lay heavily on his heart. 
 
 "Foolish boy, foolish boy," he said to himself. "He 
 has a good heart, though I am sorry to see it run away 
 with his head in this matter. But he will grow wiser. I 
 cannot control him any longer, but time and experience 
 will." 
 
CHAPTER in. 
 
 The old routine of life at " Beechwood," was restored 
 after the wedding, "and still the days rolled on," as they 
 will, be they good or be they ill. 
 
 Kate and her husband were abroad and would not 
 return until late in the fall ; so Frank spent much of his 
 time at " Beechwood," and more and more entrusted Ned 
 with the affairs at "The Glen." 
 
 Kate's letters were the chief events in their quiet life, 
 and one was read and discussed until its successor ar- 
 rived. 
 
 Frank had had many misgivings concerning this 
 marriage, and scanned these letters very closely "between 
 the lines," at first, to discover any incipient signs of 
 disappointment or disenchantment ; but no, Kate was 
 happy. There could be no doubt of that, and she was 
 deeply in love with her husband, too — that was equally 
 clear. 
 
 Her choice had seemed to him a miserable mistake ; 
 but he tried to believe it was going to turn out for the 
 dear girl's happiness after all, and was careful to speak 
 of Bernard always with the greatest consideration to his 
 uncle. 
 
 It would not be very long now before they would be at 
 home, and then Frank would have more time for his own 
 affairs, which began to press more and more seriously 
 upon his thoughts and attention. He sat, one afternoon, 
 upon the piazza, as was his custom after their early dinner, 
 but his eyes were wandering from the book he held, down 
 the road, with more and more frequency. At last he 
 said to his uncle, " I cannot understand what detains Ned. 
 He was to have returned at one, and now it's three," said 
 he, consulting his watch. " Two hours behind time. I 
 think I'll ride down and see what's the matter." 
 
 A few moments later his handsome black mare " Stella," 
 enchanted to exchange the dull dim monotony of the 
 stable for the road, the wind, and the sunshine, was 
 
l6 THE STORMY PETREL, 
 
 speeding her master toward the ferry, in quest of the 
 missing servant and team. She seemed to think she was 
 out for a race with the wind. 
 
 " Steady, steady, my girl," said Clayton, reining her in 
 gently, and laughing at her exuberance. 
 
 To be riding such an animal on such a day, through 
 one's own broad acres, and with splendid youth in the 
 veins, was it not enough to make one feel mere existence 
 a joy } and Clayton was conscious of a kind of elation in 
 sympathy with the mare, as she sped swiftly through the 
 cool afternoon air. 
 
 Things were going very smoothly with him. He did 
 not miss Sparks at all. His uncle had looked in vain for 
 the trouble and insubordination he had prophesied. No 
 one could wish troubles for those they love, and yet, one 
 does not like to lose all /r<?j-/'/;^^ as forecaster of the future ! 
 And never had the affairs of the plantation run as 
 smoothly as under this new regime. 
 
 Upon arriving at the ferry, Clayton learned that Ned 
 had loaded up his grist and then started for home a little 
 after twelve o'clock, intending to stop at the blacksmith's 
 by the way. 
 
 So there Clayton followed him. To his surprise he 
 found his team tied to a post in front of the shop, but no 
 Ned, and upon inquiry was still more astonished to learn 
 that his servant "had done got into trouble with Sandy 
 Guiton," and was now under arrest and in charge of a con- 
 stable " up to the Squire's house." 
 
 "Who is this Sandy Guiton," said Clayton, "a negro?" 
 
 " No, sir," said the smith, with a good deal of spirit. 
 " No, sir, he's a gentleman, and if you " 
 
 "Where can I find him.'" said Clayton, impatiently. 
 
 "At the shooting-match, I reckon, seeing as how he's 
 the best shot in the county." 
 
 And sure enough, there Clayton found him, a few min- 
 utes later but too busily engaged in getting his number of 
 shots in for the beef to have anything to say about this 
 matter until the match was over; and all Frank was able 
 to ascertain was, that there was to be a hearing of the 
 case at the conclusion of the match " up to the Squire's 
 house." 
 
 While these researches were being made, Clayton ob- 
 served a whispered conference going on between Sparks, 
 
THE STORIMY PETREL. 17 
 
 his discharged overseer, and Ben Baugh, who seemed to 
 be master of ceremonies at the match ; and it was easy to 
 see, from sundry glances and gestures, that he, Clayton, 
 was the subject of the conference. 
 
 A few moments later Ben lounged up to him, with an 
 air intended to be very casual, and said, " Stranger, we 
 are going to shoot for them ere turkeys soon. Wouldn't 
 you like to take a chance ? " 
 
 "Thank you," said Clayton. "I am not here to take 
 part in the match. I am on more important business." 
 
 "Ah! More important business, eh! Wall, we 
 kinder think this is right peart and interesting business 
 itself. Howsomever, what is it? Maybe I kin help 
 yer." 
 
 " I came to see about my negro man, who seems to 
 have gotten into a difBculty with one of your party down 
 at the blacksmith-shop." 
 
 "I see, I see. Then that's your sassy nigger what 
 struck Sandy, is it } Wall, I reckon yer'd better leave him 
 in the hands of the Squire, till he gives him a lesson in 
 perliteness, an teaches him how to treat white folks. 
 Pears to me, yer'd better give him some lessons of the 
 kind at home, an' then p'raps twouldn't be necessary to 
 rub em in under his shirt." 
 
 " My man is esteemed a very well-behaved and respect- 
 ful servant, and I want no suggestions or insinuations 
 from you as to how I should teach my slaves their duty to 
 any one." 
 
 " Yer seem d — n techy bout this sassy nigger. If yer 
 take my advice and know when yer in good health, yer'd 
 go home, and let the law have its course. 'Twill do him 
 a world of good and save trouble." 
 
 " I told you before, sir, that I did not need or desire 
 any advice or suggestions in this matter. I would like 
 to know, however, who saw this difficulty and what it was 
 about." 
 
 " I seed it," said he, with rising temper. " And Jim 
 Sneed, he see it too. He was standin by, and'll swar that 
 the nigger struck at Sandy moren a dozen times, and hit 
 him on the face oncet." 
 
 " Pardon me, sir, I should have to see that m-yself, be- 
 fore I would believe it." 
 
 " Makes a d — n little difference to me what yer believe, 
 
l8 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 sir, an I'd like ter know if yer mean to say you doubt my 
 word. Maybe yer'd better call me a liar, yer d — n aboli- 
 tionist ! I'll war yer out on the yearth if yer say two 
 words more to me." This was in 2i crescendo, ending in that 
 tone of rage and defiance so dear to the hearts of such 
 assemblies, and succeeded in making the two men, at once, 
 the central figures in an eager crowd just as Ben had in- 
 tended it should ; and then, turning to the spectators, who 
 were pressing in upon them he said : " What der yer think, 
 
 this d d abolitioner has come down yer to defen and 
 
 stop the whippin of that sassy nigger what struck Sandy 
 down to the shop." 
 
 "Can't save that nigger's bacon, stranger; his shirt's 
 gotter come oif ; and tain't healthy for yer to try and pre- 
 vent it," spoke up promptly one of the crowd ; and a 
 dozen voices cried out : " That's so ; them's my senti- 
 ments." 
 
 Encouraged by this Ben Baugh advanced to Clayton in 
 a very menacing manner, and said: 
 
 " Now, stranger, yer got to leave here; we'r goin to 
 take care of that nigger and sen him to yer to-night in 
 pickle." 
 
 Frank looked the fellow square in the face, and calmly 
 answered : 
 
 " I will wait until after the trial before I go." 
 
 It was growing more and more interesting to the men 
 peering over each others' shoulders, and when Ben made 
 a thrust with his great fist directly toward Clayton's white, 
 set face, the " match " was forgotten. 
 
 But the attempt was neatly parried, and with his left hand 
 Clayton swiftly dealt his burly adversary a fearful blow 
 under the chin, which seemed to lift him from the ground, 
 and he fell heavily, as if he had been shot. 
 
 There was a general rush, Ben was on his feet in an in- 
 stant. Blind with anger and the effects of the blow, he struck 
 wildly at Clayton, who warded the attack with the skill of 
 a professional boxer. Soon another opportunity offered, 
 and he dealt the ruffian a blow in the temple which brought 
 him down a second time, 
 
 " Knock the d d scoundrel in the head," shouted 
 
 some of the friends of Ben, and a rush was made for P'rank, 
 who had been giving ground to the crowd. Just at this 
 moment a horseman dashed into their midst, and shouted : 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. I9 
 
 " Stop ! in the name of the law, I command peace ! 
 Another blow at your peril ! " Then, dismounting, Judge 
 Stanley stepped through the crowd of disappointed onlook- 
 ers, and for the first time beheld his nephew. 
 
 " Frank Clayton ! " said he, in utter astonishment, 
 "you engaged in a rough and tumble fight with these 
 men ! What does it mean ? " 
 
 " It does look rather disgraceful, sir," said Clayton, 
 wiping his now flushed face with his handkerchief, and 
 looking about for his hat. "But that rufifian attacked 
 me, and I had to defend myself." Then, first looking 
 around to assure himself that they were quite alone, the 
 crowd having returned to the match, he told his uncle 
 hurriedly about Ned. 
 
 "We will go right up to the Squire's office," said 
 Judge Stanley, "and talk it over on the way." 
 
 They found Ned a sorry looking object. A deep cut 
 over his eye and the blood still unwashed on his ebony 
 skill. 
 
 "Why, Ned, what's the matter?" said the judge, 
 kindly. " How did you get that cut over your eye ? " 
 
 "Why, sah, hit was jes dis way. I was hurryin back 
 to Mars Frank, coz he tole me he was mighty pusht for 
 time ter day, an I jest stopt a minnit at the blacksmith's, 
 when a white gentleman I never seen befo come in, an 
 tole me, I musn't onhitch my team til after de match 
 done be over — coz why, he wanted to drive home. Well, 
 sah, of cose I couldn do dat, and so I said Mars Frank 
 was waitin an I muss go right back wid de bosses, an 
 when I stept up to ontie em, he up and struck me with 
 his stick over de eye. Den, I was rested. Fo God, 
 dat's de whole story, massa," — and the old man, whose 
 voice had been steady enough throughout the narration, 
 had some difficulty now in saying these last words, and 
 was evidently overwhelmed by the injustice of his posi- 
 tion. 
 
 " On what complaint is he arrested, Squire ? " inquired 
 Judge Stanle}', after a moment's silence. 
 
 "On the affidavit of Sandy Guiton that this man 
 assaulted him and struck him twice." 
 
 " Bless de Lord, Massa Frank, I neber teched him ; 
 I tried to keep him from hittin me, but I didn't hit at 
 him; no, sah, dey can't make dat out ginst me." 
 
20 THE STORMY PETREL, 
 
 " Yes, Ned ; but Sandy and Ben Baugh both say they 
 will swear you struck Sandy, and he has a mark on his 
 nose and chin." 
 
 " Must ave scratched hissef for sartin ; I didn't do 
 it." 
 
 "Squire Barker, I wish you would continue this case 
 until Monday, and I will go this man's bail for his 
 appearance at one o'clock that day." 
 
 " Certainl}^ Judge Stanley ; I will do that to accommo- 
 date you, but don't you think it is a very aggravated case 
 which ought to be punished promptly.-"' 
 
 "No, sir. There is some foul play in this case, and I 
 know it. This is one of the most respectful, humble 
 negroes in all Kentucky, and I want to protect him if I 
 can from the lash." So it was that Judge Stanley with 
 his nephew and the unfortunate Ned, returned to "The 
 Glen." 
 
 The Judge and Frank sat till late that night conferring 
 over the trouble. 
 
 " Uncle," said Frank, excitedly, "they must not, and 
 shall not, whip Ned. It would be monstrous to add 
 that to the injustice with which he has already been 
 treated." 
 
 Frank had many times paced the length of that library 
 since dinner, and more than once made his uncle repeat 
 his reasons for thinking that Ned had no chance in the 
 trial on Monday. 
 
 "But, uncle, seveial negroes stood by and corroborate 
 every word Ned says." 
 
 ^' My dear boy, how often must I tell you, that goes for 
 nothing. A negro cannot testify, and the blow you gave 
 that ruffian Ben Baugh, will be returned with accumu- 
 lated interest on poor Ned's shoulders. No, there's no 
 way out of it. He's got to stand it." 
 
 "Well, it's damnable injustice," said Frank, fiercely, 
 " and I, for one, am ready to cast my all into the pile 
 which shall burn up such a cruel system." 
 
 "Tut, tut," said Judge Stanley; "Frank, my boy, you 
 are intemperate in your language, and you will keep 
 yourself in hot water all the time if you do not bridle 
 your tongue. Of course, you do not mean " 
 
 "I mean just what I say, uncle, that when I see such 
 injustice as this, I am more than ever sure that a system 
 
TME STORMY PETREL. 21 
 
 which makes such things possible is iniquitous, and 
 should not exist." 
 
 The old gentleman gathered himself to his fullest 
 height as he rose to retire, and said, with a great deal of 
 dignity, "Of course, sir, in this matter of Ned's, you will 
 have my entire sympathy and co-operation ; but, when 
 your utterances become revolutionary, and subversive of 
 social order, we must part company," and not waiting for 
 a reply, he left his nephew to his reflections. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Promptly at one o'clock on Monday^ all were assem- 
 bled at Squire Barker's house. 
 
 Sandy Guiton was first put on the stand. 
 
 He said, "he come by the blacksmith-shop on his way 
 to the shootin-match, in company with Ben Baugh, and 
 seeing the team driven by the nigger Ned hitched at the 
 shop, he asked the driver how late he was goin ter stay." 
 
 At this point, Frank asked the court to exclude the 
 other witness from the room, which request was complied 
 with. 
 
 Sandy resumed and said the nigger answered him and 
 said : " I'm goin home when I git ready. What d'you 
 want to know my business for?"' 
 
 "I told him," continued Sandy, "that if he was goin 
 ter stay till after the shootin was over, we'd like to ride 
 as far as he went our way. He give me some more of 
 
 his sass, and I called him a d d black nigger, and 
 
 said he better mind, or I'd have him peeled." 
 
 " He said," resumed Sandy, ' no white trash in this 
 country could do dat thing for him.' An he struck me 
 a kinder glancin lick on the cheek here. He tried to hit 
 me agin, an I struck him one blow on the head and 
 brought him down." 
 
 " Is that all you have to say in this case ? " asked the 
 Squire. 
 
 "That's about all there was to it. Squire." 
 
 "Do you wish to cross-examine the witness, Judge ? " 
 inquired Squire Barker. 
 
 After a few minutes" consultation between Judge Stanley 
 and Frank, the latter asked the witness if there were any 
 other persons present when this difficulty occurred, and 
 was answered in the negative. 
 
 "Are you quite sure there was no other person than 
 yourself and companion ? " 
 
 "I'm quite sure there was no one present, cept some 
 niggers." 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 23 
 
 " You say you are quite sure there was no white person 
 present during the controversy with the defendant ? " 
 
 "Yes, I s^id so." 
 
 "Now, tell us how you know the fact ? " 
 
 "Well, yer see, Ben, he looked all round and so did I, 
 and we seed no one but these niggers I spoke of before." 
 
 " Why were you looking to see if there were any white 
 l^eople around .-' " 
 
 "Cause, if they'd been bout, I wouldn't er — er said 
 anything to the nigger." 
 
 "Why not? He would have been less likely to be im- 
 pudent to you in the presence of several white people, 
 than where there were only two ? " 
 
 "Oh, well, yer see every white man who seed it could 
 swar to it an be a witness, and we didn't want but two 
 witnesses to the row." 
 
 " Did you know there was going to be a difficulty ? " 
 
 "Not xactly;but we knowed Ned was a sassy nigger 
 an would say something back." 
 
 " Then, we understand, you wanted to get into a dif- 
 ficulty with the driver." 
 
 " No, not xactly." 
 
 "We have no further questions to ask the witness, your 
 honor," remarked Judge Stanley to the court. 
 
 Ben Baugh corroborated Sandy's story in the main, but 
 was too shrewd to admit, as Sandy had actually done, 
 that it was a preconcerted plan to get into a row with Ned. 
 
 After the evidence had been finished, Frank asked the 
 court to hear the statement of the prisoner at the bar. 
 
 To this, the squire could not listen for a moment ; 
 it was not evidence, and was inadmissible. 
 
 "I want your honor to come to a proper understanding 
 of the case before judgment is rendered ; and I am sure 
 you could not listen to his plain, simple story without the 
 conviction that he was telling the truth and that these two 
 men have perjured themselves for a purpose." 
 
 "Whatever impressions I might receive outside of the 
 lawful testimony could not influence the decision of this 
 Court, which I am sworn to render in accordance with the 
 law and the facts in the case," said the squire, loftily. " If 
 the defence has no testimon}^, I will proceed to render the 
 judgment in the case." 
 
 "We have no witnesses," said Frank, with a sigh. 
 
24 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 " I will read the law upon this subject, if the defence 
 desire it, before judgment is rendered." 
 
 " I think it is hardh' necessary," said Judge Stanley, 
 " I presume you will feel bound to enforce the law by the 
 lash, as provided in the Code, which leaves no discretion 
 except in the selection of the person who is to inflict the 
 punishment." 
 
 These last words seemed to strike Sandy Guiton at 
 once. He sprang to his feet. " I say Squire, why can't 
 I do that? I'd like mighty well to be pinted to do that 
 little job, and I'd do it mighty neat, too." 
 
 Frank Clayton's eyes flashed fire as he interposed. 
 
 " If the negro must be punished under an inhuman law, 
 I trust your honor will, at least, designate a human being 
 and not a brute to execute it. I would suggest that the 
 constable who has the prisoner in charge, be designated 
 to carry your sentence into execution." 
 
 "Don't you call me a brute," muttered Sandy, "or I'll 
 go through you like " 
 
 "Be silent," said the squire. "Constable Sampson, 
 you will take the prisoner, and give him thirty-nine lashes 
 on the bare back, in accordance with the law and the 
 finding of this Court." 
 
 " God hab mercy on me," said Ned, bowing his gray 
 head in his hands. " Oh, Massa Stanley," and he turned 
 in agonized appeal to the judge. "Oh, Massa Stanley, 
 you won't let dem do dis ting, I know you won't. You's 
 a judge. Cartt you sabe you ole serbant from sich dis- 
 grace } How kin I eber hole up my head agin ? 
 
 " Massa Frank," and he turned to his young master in 
 his extremity; but Frank was gone. Perhaps he could 
 not bear to look on as the old man, with bowed head and 
 reluctant feet, followed the constable to the barn where 
 he was to receive the punishment. 
 
 There was a brief pause after they had disappeared 
 within. It did not require much imagination to picture 
 the scene, Sampson arranging the preliminaries, while the 
 old man's trembling fingers were taking off his homespun 
 shirt. 
 
 Judge Stanley, sick at heart, had walked away. Sparks 
 was modestly in the background, while Sandy and Ben 
 were in high glee over whispered jokes, of which Frank 
 was evidently the subject, 
 
THE STORMY PETREL, 2^ 
 
 But there was a look in ClaAton's eye as he stood there 
 with arms folded, face white and set, every nerve and 
 muscle at the highest tension ; there was something in his 
 eye, which even these men did not like to meet, and which 
 kept them from more than furtive glances at his motion- 
 less figure. 
 
 The nearer man comes to the brute, the more readily 
 does he quail under this strange power of the human eye. 
 
 But they had not pictured all that was going on within 
 that barn. 
 
 Frank had found an opportunity in the thirty seconds 
 during Ned's appeal to Judge Stanley to say just these 
 words to the constable : 
 
 "Sampson, don't be hard on the old man. He is in- 
 nocent, and those scoundrels know it. This is only done 
 to make 7ne sufifer. Make it light as you can, there's a 
 good fellow." 
 
 There was no time for a word of reply ; Frank had 
 gone, and Sampson was pondering over the hurried, 
 whispered words as he took the trembling negro to the 
 barn, 
 
 "Now, Ned, off with yer shirt," and then, in a whisper, 
 " and every time I bring the lash down on this ere bag o' 
 wheat, you holler like you'd take the roof off." 
 
 Stupefied with wonder, Ned never moved. " Do as I 
 tell you," roared Sampson, and then in a whisper : " Mr. 
 
 Clayton asked me to make it light, an by I'll do it if it 
 
 costs me my office. He done me a good turn last year 
 when the sheriff was goin ter sell me out, and I ain't a 
 man ter forgit such er kindness. If them durned fellers 
 want somebody to hurt Frank Clayton over jyv/;- shoulders 
 they've come to the wrong place, that's all there is about 
 it ; I ain't their man for that job. 
 
 " Now, holler, jest as loud as yer can," — bringing down 
 the lash on the bag ; " louder, louder, louder ! There now, 
 kinder faint an tired out ; now, like you was all worn out. 
 There, that'll do." And then, laying the lash lightly 
 thirty-nine times on Ned's broad ebony shoulders, just to 
 keep within the letter of the law, the constable's official 
 conscience was appeased. 
 
 " Now, put on yer shirt," said he, panting and puffing 
 from the exercise, " But, for the Lord's sake, don't look 
 like that. Why, you must pear like you was all cut up ; 
 
26 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 SO there, that'll do. Now, if you ever let this git out, 
 I'll " 
 
 The awful threat was not finished, for they were out in 
 the sunshine again and in full view of the group awaiting 
 them with such diverse feelings. 
 
 Frank's face flushed, and he looked eagerly at his ser- 
 vant. The crying in the barn was so well done he felt 
 afraid his appeal had done no good, but a curious twinkle 
 in the eye over Ned's old handkerchief reassured him. 
 
 They rode home, much of the way in silence, Frank 
 driving, with his uncle on the seat beside him, and Ned 
 sitting behind. 
 
 " The poor old fellow bore it very well," said the judge 
 at last, in a low tone. 
 
 "Yes," said Frank, drily, "he did ;" and they lapsed 
 again into another long silence. 
 
 Frank was thinking unutterable things. These events 
 were hastening the growth of thoughts which had been 
 long germinating in his mind. 
 
 "Uncle," he said at last, " what can be done to pre- 
 vent such injustice as we have seen to-day ? " 
 
 "Well, I don't know. It's a hard case, but the law 
 must be respected and enforced." 
 
 "A law," said Frank, impatiently, "which permits such 
 things should be repealed. Why are there no legal en- 
 actments to protect these helpless beings from such 
 vicious creatures as Sandy Guiton and Ben Baugh .? " 
 
 " What kind of a law would you enact for that |uir- 
 pose, Frank ? " the old gentleman asked, a little scornfully. 
 
 " Why, I would make them competent witnesses in 
 courts of justice, for one thing." 
 
 "And so they are now as against a negro." 
 
 " Well, I should make them competent witnesses 
 against white as well as black." 
 
 " But, my dear boy," said the judge, striving to be 
 patient, "don't you see to what complications that would 
 lead? Don't you see that if a man's slave could bring 
 him into court and testify against him, there would be 
 continual litigation and end virtually the absolute control 
 of the slaves by the master.'' It would be recognizing his 
 rights as a man, and would be an entering wedge that 
 would end in the utter overthrow of slavery. There can 
 be no half-hearted, half-way measures in this. My dear 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 27 
 
 boy, your theories are impracticable, and however pleas- 
 ant it may be for you to indulge in them, I advise you by 
 no means, give expression to them in the presence of any 
 person hereabouts. Your motives will be misconstrued, 
 and get you into trouble. For instance, if those men we 
 have seen to-day, even though they had no interest 
 directly in slavery, were to hear you talk, as you have to 
 me, they would get up a mob and run you out of the State 
 as an abolitionist." 
 
 Frank realized they were drifting into the endless 
 mazes of argument so often explored before, and which 
 lead nowhere. His ideas must lead to action, not words. 
 That was more and more forcing itself into recognition in 
 his mind, and he did not speak again except of matters 
 about which he felt quite indifferent. 
 
 As Ned climbed down from the seat behind, Judge 
 Stanley put his hand kindly on his shoulder and slipping a 
 crisp bank-note in to his hand, said, " There is something 
 to buy a present for the old woman and the children." 
 
 " Oh, Massa, I can't — " But Frank unceremoniously 
 sent him off with his scruples, saying to him as he went, 
 in an undertone : " Remember, not a word." 
 
 " You may pen on me for dat for suah," said Ned. 
 " I'll neber open my mouf on dat pint." 
 
 But the news of the flogging had sped swiftly to the 
 plantation and there was awful wailing and lamentation 
 in Ned's cabin, and when he opened the door his wife 
 said : " Oh ! My pore ole man, my pore ole man." 
 
 "Don't cry, honey, I aint hurt a mite," said Ned, 
 soothingly. 
 
 "You ain't?" said she, looking at him with incredulous 
 eyes. 
 
 "No, not a mite. Massa Sampson he gib me de lashes 
 for suah, Liza, but de good Lord, he sent a angel what 
 kep him from hurtin me. Ceptin de disgrace," said he, 
 with a quaver in his voice, ceptin de disgrace ! " and 
 he hung his head. 
 
 " Was it a sure enuf angel, Ned ? " said she, in a 
 scared undertone. " Did de Lord do dat for true .'' " 
 
 "Yes, for true," and Ned nodded solemnly. 
 
 " How did de angel look, Ned ? " said she, in awe- 
 stricken whisper. 
 
 " For all de worl jes like Massa Frank, honey." 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 Kate had returned to "Beechwood," and the radiance 
 of her happy face had iUuminated every corner of the 
 solitary old house. 
 
 " How different everything looks since you came back ! " 
 said her father. ''I declare, Kate, it was such a dismal 
 place without you I really considered whether we had not 
 better close the house and go to Louisville for the 
 winter." 
 
 'Kate laughed at the idea of anything being as pleasant 
 as "Beechwood," in winter or summer. 
 
 "I really don't know how I should have stood it, if 
 Frank hadn't helped me through,". 
 
 " Dear Frank," said Kate, "how good it was of him to 
 come here. But then, Frank always does the right thing." 
 
 " I am not so sure of that," said the judge, laughing. 
 " He is a splendid fellow, indeed, an extraordinary fellow, 
 Kate. I admire and love the boy, but he is erratic — very 
 erratic and headstrong; and we had some pretty stormy 
 times while you were gone." 
 
 " Did you really, papa ? " 
 
 " Yes. That is, he expressed himself imprudently on 
 two or three occasions, and I felt obliged to rebuke him 
 pretty sharply. You know he took an aversion to Sparks, 
 and got it into his head that he would run the plantation 
 alone, and I found '■" 
 
 "Oh, Massa," said Sam, bursting unceremoniously into 
 the room ; then recovering himself — "Excuse, Massa, but 
 dars trouble over to de Glen ! " 
 
 " What's the matter ? " said the judge, in alarm. 
 
 " It's about Uncle Ned, sah. De boy what brought de 
 news is jist outside. Shall I call him in, sah ? " 
 
 " Yes, at once ! " Then turning to Kate — "Just as I 
 told you — Frank is in Louisville, and now there'll be the 
 devil to pay, and no one to look after " 
 
 At that moment Sam returned with the ebony messen- 
 ger from " The Glen." 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 29 
 
 " Well, what is it ? " said Judge Stanley, a little fret- 
 fully. 
 
 The boy fumbled with his cap, while he scraped his 
 right foot backward in the most approved fashion. 
 
 "It's about Uncle Ned," stammered he. 
 
 "Well, I heard that before. What about him?" 
 
 " Why, they've done cut him all up, sah." 
 
 " Who .'' What do you mean ? " 
 
 "I donno who dey was, sah, but four men comd and 
 took him outer his bed last night and carried him to de 
 woods back er der house. Den dey fassened a corn-cob 
 in his mouf," — the boy was getting warmed up with the 
 narrative and his round eyes looked as if they were about 
 to be projected from his head — " and dey jes cut his back 
 all ter pieces, and den dey irow salt water all ober him 
 and go away an leab him." 
 
 " Monstrous !" said the judge, " those trends ought to 
 be " 
 
 " He's in er awful bad way, no mistake, sah — wid a 
 great gash in his head, too." 
 
 " Great heavens ! " said Kate, trembling. " Papa, what's 
 to be done ? " 
 
 " Aunt Liza and de childen's nigh bout crazy," went 
 on the boy, " an it seems like nobody knows what to do 
 fus." 
 
 " Dick, send at once for Doctor Barnes, and here — this 
 message," said he, writing on a slip of paper with the 
 pencil attached to his watch-chain. " Send this to the 
 telegraph office instantly, and have the horse harnessed 
 for me to go to The Glen. 
 
 "I think I'll write to Frank, too; he'll get it in time, 
 and the despatch is not explicit enough," and the old 
 gentleman sat down to his desk. 
 
 " Papa, dear," said his daughter, laying her hand on his 
 shoulder, " I am going with you to The Glen." 
 
 He nodded and went on with his letter, while Kate 
 rang the bell for her maid. 
 
 In an instant the summons was answered by a tall, 
 olive-skinned girl, with an air almost patrician. 
 
 "Do you want me. Miss Kate?" said she, with the 
 soft, rich intonation of that latitude. 
 
 "Yes," said her mistress. "I'm going to The Glen ; 
 bring my wraps and — wait — tell Dick to fill a hamper with 
 
30 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 things for Liza and the children — a bottle of brandy, too," 
 she called, in a louder tone, the girl being swiftly on her 
 way to obey her instructions. 
 
 " Oh, how terrible ! " and she paced the floor, wringing 
 her hands in distress. 
 
 Martha returned with the things, and stooping to put the 
 overshoes on her mistress' feet, said : "It's a mighty bad 
 day. Miss Kate, for you to be out. I brought this for you 
 to wear under your waterproof," said she, wrapping a 
 fur-lined cloak about her shoulders." 
 
 " There, that'll do," said Kate, impatiently. 
 
 " Martha, tell Mr, Fletcher when he comes, that I've 
 gone to The Glen ; and— don't forget to see that the fire 
 burns brightly in his dressing-room." 
 
 Martha was fastening the waterproof at the neck as she 
 said this, and Kate was surprised by a curiously pained 
 look in the face opposite her, as a flush of deep red 
 crept under the olive skin. She did not speak. Kate 
 looked at her, puzzled at her silence. 
 
 " Did you hear me, Martha ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, Miss Kate, I will see to it ; and Sam has 
 the hamper in the carriage," said she, handing her mis- 
 tress her fur-lined gloves. 
 
 " Papa," said Kale, as they were driving through the 
 dreary fog and rain, " I'm afraid something is the matter 
 with Martha." 
 
 " Why ? " said he, absently. 
 
 "I don't think she's happy." 
 
 " Nonsense." 
 
 " No," she said, very positively, " she is in trouble, I'm 
 sure." 
 
 " Some falling out with Dick, I suppose," said he, indif- 
 ferently. 
 
 "Yes," mused Kate, "that is it." What could touch 
 /icr so deeply as "falling out" with Bernard.' And she 
 thought compassionately of her maid's unhappiness from 
 similar cause and determined to help her. 
 
 A dusky crowd was hanging around Ned's cabin, which 
 silently drew back to make way for Judge Stanley and his 
 daughter. 
 
 The moans they heard as they stood on the porch out- 
 side, were not from Ned. He was still enough, not 
 having yet come back to consciousness of his suffering. 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 3 1 
 
 But poor Liza rocked back and forth in piteous anguish, 
 which made her almost unconscious of the presence of 
 Kate and her father. i, 
 
 " Oh, my pore ole man — de Lord dun forgot him dis 
 time. If he could sen a angel one time, why couldn he 
 anoder ? Dat's what I can't understan. Pears like his 
 arm was shorten dat he couldn sav ! If he conhi an he 
 didn't — what sort a Lord is dat ? " said she, in a kind of 
 passion of grief. " No, Aunt Jemima, don't you hinder 
 me. If I tought de Lord he hear dose cries and looked 
 on and wouldn help his ole faithful serbant — I wouldn 
 love him ; " and she paced the floor, gesticulating wildly. 
 
 " No, don talk to me bout sech a Lord as dat," saitl 
 she, pushing aside her would-be comforters. " I'se 
 gwinter have my say, I is." 
 
 Kate could think of nothing comforting to say, so she 
 wiped her own tears and silently took the things out of 
 the hamper. This suggested the best thing she could 
 have done. That is, to mix a little brandy and water and 
 sugar, to calm the poor old creature's nerves. 
 
 " Tank you. Miss Kate," said she, gratefully. 
 
 Dr. Barnes found nothing serious in the case, unless 
 the concussion should give trouble, but " I reckon not," 
 he said, with a facetious glance at the judge. " The race 
 is pretty well protected there," said he, tapping the 
 unconscious Ned on the skull. " He is suffering now 
 chiefly from nervous shock." He did all he could to 
 make the old man more comfortable, and promised to call 
 again before nig-ht. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 The following day Kate sat before the mirror in dainty 
 dressing sacque. The hair which Martha was combing 
 fell in rich, waving, auburn masses, which, soon as released 
 from the comb in Martha's hand, spread out as if electri- 
 fied. 
 
 They had been talking of Ned. 
 
 "It seems like there was nothing but trouble, Miss 
 Kate," the girl said, in a tone of wearied hopelessness. 
 
 Kate looked at her very steadily in the glass. 
 
 " Martha," said she, after a moment ; "is Dick kind to 
 you ? " 
 
 "Dick? — kind.''" — she almost gasped. "Why, Miss 
 Kate, I think Dick would die for me." 
 
 "And you are sure you have no trouble with him ? " 
 
 "Oh, no — no. If you could only know how good he is 
 to me ! " Big tears gathered in her eyes, which her busy 
 hands let fall as they would. 
 
 " Well, then, Martha, what is it .'* I have observed ever 
 since I came home, you are not happy.'' 
 
 " Oh, Miss Kate, Miss Kate," said the girl, dropping 
 the comb, and burying her face in both hands, "don't, 
 don't ! " 
 
 Kate was shocked. 
 - "Why, Martha, what is it? What can I do for you? " 
 And she put her hand kindly on the girl's shoulder. 
 
 " There's nothing — nothing," said she, sobbing hysteri- 
 cally. " Oh, it breaks my heart to have you so good to 
 me ! " 
 
 "There, there," said Kate, who heard Bernard's step on 
 the stairs. "There, I'll do my own hair — you go and lie 
 down," and she pushed her gently toward the door. As 
 Bernard entered, he looked at the retreating figure of the 
 girl, and then, swiftly, at Kate. 
 
 " Well, what is it now ? " 
 
 The tone was not pleasant, neither was the frown which 
 accompanied it. But Kate perceived neither, 
 
THE STORMY PETREL, ;^^ 
 
 " Why, I do not know, Bernard, what it is. Martha does 
 not seem happy — something troubles her. She was so 
 hght-hearted before she married Dicl<, and now " 
 
 " Will you spare me any more of these details," said her 
 husband, in a not very engaging voice. " For Heaven's 
 sake, can we not find something pleasanter to talk of than 
 the servants' troubles ! " 
 
 " Bernard," said Kate, shocked and surprised. 
 
 " Well, dear, I can't help it. It bores me — you are not 
 vexed, are you ? " said he, leaning over her coaxingly, 
 
 '" No," said she, refusing to look at him. " I'm not 
 vexed, but I am disappointed." 
 
 " Well, it's a little too much to expect of a man, you 
 know," and, with his hands in his pockets, he lazily paced 
 the floor, while Kate brushed her hair in silence. 
 
 " Last night, it was Uncle Ned : you could't talk, play 
 billiards, sing, or even think of anything but Uncle 
 Ned ; and now I come home, and, by George, it's Mar- 
 tha." 
 
 Kate said not a word, as she gathered the auburn mass 
 together and then coiled it upon the top of her stately 
 head. 
 
 " By Jove, she's handsome," Bernard was saying to 
 himself. 
 
 Kate furtively glanced at her husband as he stood at 
 the window, his profile in strong relief against the light. 
 She had taken great delight in studying that profile; but 
 now, somehow, in the silence that had fallen between 
 them, its perfect lines irritated her. 
 
 But before she had placed the high shell comb at the 
 right angle in her hair, the old feeling had asserted 
 itself. 
 
 What was she doing ? Trouble with Bernard ! The 
 thought was insupportable. 
 
 She was at his side in another moment, looking wistfully 
 into his face. 
 
 "Bernard, I was unreasonable," and she slipped her 
 hand into his. 
 
 "Of course, dear," she went on, "I cannot expect you 
 to feel as I do about these servants. Why, I have loved 
 Martha all my life — we played together in the nursery, 
 and then grew up together, and " 
 
 Something warned her that she was borins: him again. 
 
34 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 " And, Bernard, you must be patient with me if I am 
 hasty sometimes. It's the Lucas blood, that you think so 
 much of," said she, smiling archly. " We are all so — 
 papa, Frank and I, all alike ; but we get over it in a mo- 
 ment, unless it's a real injury, you know." 
 
 " Ah, well," said he, " I suppose we must have our lit- 
 tle misunderstandings sometimes, like other people. But 
 we will avoid many of these if you will give up expecting 
 me to be like your priggish cousin Frank." 
 
 Kate looked hurt. " Fm sorry you dislike Frank " 
 
 " Oh, I don't dislike him. But we go different ways, 
 that's all. He likes this sort of thing, and I don't. 
 
 *■ Now, dear, we understand each other, don't we ? " and 
 he drew her to him and kissed her. 
 
 She was silent, but there was a strange misgiving in her 
 heart. What if they did not, and rw//^/ wczr/- understand 
 each other. 
 
 The evening was long to Kate. Bernard was especially 
 agreeable, but somehow her spirits would not rally ; and 
 finally, when her father and husband became interested in 
 a game of billiards, she slipped quietly up-stairs, took off 
 her dress, braided her hair in two long strands down her 
 back, and then, in soft dressing-gown, sat in the flicker- 
 ing light of the open fire. She was fond of this, and in 
 that girlhood she was fast leaving behind her, had built 
 many castles out of those changing lights and shadows. 
 But there was no castle-building to-night. She was only 
 trying to comprehend the strangeness of the noiv. A veil 
 seemed to be dropping from life. Could it be that its 
 poetry and romance would vanish .'' She sat long, gazing 
 silently, and in differrent ways asking over the same ques- 
 tion. 
 
 She started at hearing Bernard's step. " Alone, 
 dearest ?" said he. "Kate, I'm afraid you think I was 
 unsympathetic to-day — I am not, and if Martha " 
 
 " O Bernard, she is not in trouble ; that is, it was all 
 a stupid mistake of mine. She is not very well, that is 
 all." 
 
 "Oh, well," said he, "give her that, it will make her 
 better, or else you buy her something with it. You know 
 what would please her." 
 
 Kate flushed rosy red v/ith pleasure and surprise as she 
 saw a ten-dollar biil lying in her lap. 
 
THE STORIMY PETREL. 35 
 
 "My darling, how kind you are ! " said she, impulsively. 
 
 "Oh, there are worse fellows than I," said he, laughing, 
 as he replaced his pocket-book. 
 
 She laid her head on his breast. How unjust she had 
 been ! how exacting ! how absurd ! and he — was so gener- 
 ous, so tender ! 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Upon receiving the dispatch, Frank immediatel)' ar- 
 ranged to return, and before the steamer started that 
 night, his uncle's letter had given the details of the affair. 
 
 Too excited to sleep, he paced the deck far into the 
 night, his niind revolving plans of swift vengeance upon 
 the men whom he suspected of being tlie perpetrators of 
 this outrage, whom he correctl}' surmised had discovered 
 the thwarting of their first attempt. It was aimed, as 
 he well knew, not at Ned, but himself. 
 
 " But what good will it do ? " he asked himself, despair- 
 ingly. "What security is there against future and end- 
 less troubles of a similar sort, in a State where the laws 
 are framed, not to protect the helpless, but rather to 
 secure immunity for the strong and vicious ! " 
 
 The problem to be solved was. How should he admin- 
 ister justice to these human beings committed to his care 
 by his grandfather's will ! He had been powerless to do 
 it thus far, even with the aid of Judge Stanley. 
 
 "But it must be done," said he, setting his teeth to- 
 gether with a sort of fierce resolve. " By Heaven ! if 
 justice cannot be found for them 7uithin the system, why, 
 by all that's sacred, I'll put them outside of it. It's got 
 to come to that,'' said he, more quietly ; " I see there is 
 ho other way out of it." 
 
 The moon rose above the hills, and a pathway of glory 
 stretched before him through the dark waters of the Ohio. 
 To his excited fancy it seemed a type. Here was tiie 
 path of duty illumined by divine light, which seemed to 
 cleave its way straight through the darkness which en- 
 vironed him. He recalled his mother — his beautiful, 
 sainted mother — and could hear her voice, as of old, urg- 
 ing the simple, yet ah ! so difficult precept : "My son, do 
 unto others as you would have others do unto you." 
 
 And if ministering angels do visit the earth, there was 
 an angel who imparled strength and courage to a human 
 soul that night. He felt the soft touch of a hand upon 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 37 
 
 his brow, and sprang to his feet. Was he dreaming } 
 The moon had disappeared ; the rosy hght of dawn was 
 in the east, and the cool morning air gave freshness and 
 vigor to the duties of the day. The night's vigil, though 
 it left no trace of fatigue, had been an era in the life of 
 Clayton, and during its anxious hours he had passed from 
 youth to manhood. His resolve was taken ; there was 
 no more uncertainty as to what was to be done. 
 
 His carriage was awaiting him at the landing and took 
 him at once to his own home, where his whole thought for 
 some hours was given to consoling his old servant, and, 
 so far as he could, bringing comfort and cheer into Ned's 
 forlorn cabin. 
 
 Not till evening did he set his face toward '" Beech- 
 wood," and then, reining in Stella's impatience, he tried 
 to prolong the ride thither. The approaching interview 
 with his uncle must be a painful, and probably would be a 
 stormy one. He would have preferred never to array 
 himself in opposition to his more than father — but the 
 time had come sooner than he intended ; the hands on the 
 dial could not be set back now. 
 
 They had just finished dinner when he entered. Judge 
 Stanley and his son-in-law had lighted their cigars. Kate 
 knew well the ring of Stella's hoofs on the gravel road, 
 and had flown to meet him at the door, with the old-time 
 welcome, which quite atoned for Bernard's listless greet- 
 ing. 
 
 " Well, Frank," said his uncle, we've had a pretty bad 
 time here since you went away. I wrote you most of — " 
 
 Bernard, looking terribly bored, said in an aside to 
 Kate, '- Let's have some music, dear ; your father and 
 cousin have so much to discuss." So Frank and his 
 uncle were left alone. 
 
 The butler, who went in later, to remove the cloth, was 
 told impatiently by his master to leave things as they were, 
 he could not be disturbed ; and the rise and fall of voices 
 within the closed doors gave indication of an interview 
 more than usually grave and important. 
 
 Kate was puzzled and anxious, for it sounded at times 
 almost as if they were angry. But that i:o///i/ not be ! — 
 and she waited, restrained by an indefinable feeling from 
 confiding her disquietude to her husband. 
 
 Ten o'clock — and, at last — eleven o'clock ; and still the 
 
38 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 doors remained closed and ihe voices were no less earnest 
 and continuous. 
 
 "Your cousin and the old gentleman are holding a long 
 session," said Bernard, lazily stretching. "Don't you 
 wait, dear; if anyone need do so, I will." 
 
 " Oh, not at all," said Kate ; " it's not necessar\- for 
 anyone to sit up; Frank is one of us, you know.'' 
 
 But there could be no sleep for Kale, as long as she 
 heard the distant murmur of voices down-stairs. It must 
 be something very serious — and what could it be? 
 Twelve o'clock — one — and, at last, two! Then the voices 
 grew more distinct, although speaking very quietly now, as 
 the dining-room door opened. She heard Frank say : 
 
 "Good-night, uncle." Then the front door closed 
 heavily. 
 
 "Has there been some misfortune.'' some trouble of 
 which I do not know.? Is Frank in difficulty?" And 
 she asked herself these fruitless questions till the clatter 
 of Stella's hoofs was lost in the distance. Then, the 
 tension removed, she dropped into the restful sleep of 
 youth and health. 
 
 There was little conversation at breakfast next morning. 
 Judge Stanley looked careworn and aged, as he silently 
 took his coffee and buttered toast. It was not until Ber- 
 nard had gone, and the old gentleman had settled into his 
 easy-chair, with his newspaper, that Kate ventured to 
 broach the subject uppermost in her mind. 
 
 " Papa, dear, you were up late last night ; I hope Frank 
 is not in any trouble." 
 
 " Kate," said he, laying down his paper, "your cousin is 
 a fool ; he is going to free his negroes." 
 
 "Well, I'm glad it's nothing worse than that," she said, 
 with an expression of relief. 
 
 "Nothing worse," said he, vehemently, " nothing worse 
 than committing such an act of folly ? I hope_)w// are not 
 going to uphold him.'' He seemed almost angry with 
 lier. 
 
 " Why, no ; not exactly that, papa," said she ; " but if he 
 thinks it his duty, I must say I think it is heroic." 
 
 " Well, / think it is madness to throw away fifty thou- 
 sand dollars on a piece of mistaken philanthropy. Why, it 
 is an act of cruelty to turn those negroes adrift. What 
 do they know al:)Out earning a living ? They will die off 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 39 
 
 like sheep. J^ut, I've nothing more to say about it ; lie 
 thinks he knows better than 1 ; now let him go and throw 
 away his inheritance, let him pull down his grandfather's 
 house about his head if he wants to — I shall say nothing 
 more. He is of age and has a right to do what he will 
 with his own. I've done my duty in pointing out the 
 dangers and folly of this course ; now if he persists — as 
 he will — I shall acquiesce without another word. But 
 don't talk to me of its being //tvwV," he said, as he 
 returned to his paper, which Kate well knew he was in no 
 mood to read. 
 
 PerhajDS her father was right in his view of the unfitness 
 of the negroes to take care of themselves ; but she was 
 none the less strongly impressed with Frank's fidelity to 
 his ideals, and, so far from striving to make him waver, 
 she would have strengthened him in his resolution. All 
 day her thoughts dwelt upon these things, feeling instinc- 
 tively the while that she could not speak to Bernard about 
 it and invite the scornful comment which she was sure 
 would follow. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 A Few clays later there were assembled in the old 
 librar)' at " The Glen ' one morning four men, seated round 
 a large oaken table, with its quaintly carved legs and 
 mouldings in keeping with the bookcases which lined the 
 walls, containing richly bound volumes and rare old books, 
 which had been the pride of Colonel Lucas, who had 
 bequeathed these treasures to his grandson. 
 
 One of the persons at the table was a heavily built 
 man, with an intellectual head, slightly bald, and with an 
 air of authority, which plainly said : " This must be so, 
 because I say it." He stood at one end of the table, 
 resting his hand upon an elaborately prepared legal 
 document, and said : 
 
 " You see. Judge Stanley, the will of Colonel Lucas 
 ])rovides that if his grandson, Frank Clayton, shall desire 
 to dispose of the estate, he shall first offer it to his cousin. 
 Kate Stanley, or to her father for her." 
 
 "Mr. Blackstone," said the judge, "he has complied 
 with that clause in full." 
 
 " Pardon me. Judge. I believe not in the spirit nor yet 
 in the letter of the clause; for you will observe, in everv 
 case, reference is made to this property as a whole, and 
 the negroes are enumerated as part and parcel of the 
 estate so bequeathed and provided for in the clause as an 
 entirety. Evidently, Colonel Lucas did not intend to have 
 the estate divided up into parcels, but to be kept intact 
 and in the family. It would be a sacrilege to allow this 
 young visionary to thwart so noble a purpose ; and if you 
 take our view of the case, and refuse to buy except he 
 conform to this view, mark my word, the money consider- 
 ation will bring him round." 
 
 "No," said Judge Stanley. "He will find another pur- 
 chaser for The Glen, and hold that the conditions of the 
 will have been complied with , and besides, I shall not be 
 a i^artv to such a forced construction of the will. He 
 refuses to sell either the library here or the family pictures, 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 4I 
 
 which were a part of his inheritance. As well insist on 
 his selling these as any other particular portion."' 
 
 "And so I should, your honor," resumed Mr. Black- 
 stone. " The estate should be kept intact ; and if you will 
 allow my client, Captain Fletcher, and his son Bernard 
 here, to arrange this conveyance with my help, I am sure 
 this instrument," holding up the voluminous document, 
 '■ will make a sure bind." 
 
 "Mr. Blackstone is right," said Captain Fletcher, as he 
 rose from his seat and approached Judge Stanley, who sat 
 in deep thought. " Mr. Clayton is not the man to oppose 
 our united opinions and demands, if you support our 
 views." 
 
 " I, for one," said Bernard, " am not in favor of allow- 
 ing him to carry these slaves away for any such purpose 
 as he has avowed ; and if he will not listen to reason, he 
 must yield to force, and abandon the wild scheme." 
 
 " If you knew Frank as I do,^' said the judge, looking 
 rather contemptuously at his son-in-law, " you would not 
 expect to control him, by subterfuge nor yet by force. 
 He is a determined, brave, clear-headed fellow. I don't 
 approve of this business — far from it — but I will say this 
 nuich for him, if " 
 
 What more he might have said, we know not, for at 
 that moment his nephew, accompanied by Kate, entered 
 the apartment. Frank apol()gized for his delay in appear- 
 ing ; while Kate, furtively reading the lines in her hus- 
 band's face, moved to his side and rested her hand upon 
 his arm. She was uncomfortably conscious of an impend- 
 ing storm, which she meant, if possible, to avert. 
 
 Mr. Blackstone, in pompous, consequential fashion, now 
 called attention to the business of executing the papers, 
 transferring the estate to Kate Fletcher ; and then, step- 
 ping up to Clayton and handing him a carefully prepared 
 document, said : 
 
 '' Here, Mr. Clayton, is a deed, prepared by myself in 
 strict compliance with the provisions of Colonel Lucas' 
 will ; and I will ask vou to be so kind as to examine it." 
 
 Clayton took the paper from the lawyer witliout com- 
 ment. Running his eve down the first page, he caught 
 the name of " Uncle Ned." Then followed an inventory 
 of all the negroes, horses, cattle and stock of various 
 kinds ; and as he read, the hot blood surged to his cheeks 
 
42 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 and temples. He repressed his heart, which had come 
 unbidden into his throat, and cahned its wild beatings. 
 
 Kate watched him as he read, and observed the strug- 
 gle with secret sympathy, but dared not leave her hus- 
 band's side. 
 
 A look of ominous determination was creeping over 
 Frank's face, which was now quite pallid and set. 
 There was a moment's pause, all eyes fixed upon him, as 
 they waited for him to speak; then, looking Mr. Black- 
 stone steadily in the face, he tore the paper from end to 
 end and then into shreds, saying calmly as he did so: 
 " Uncle Stanley, where is the deed we prepared yester- 
 day,.'' " 
 
 Judge Stanley turned from the window just in time to 
 interpose. Mr. Blackstone had fairly bounded toward 
 Clayton, in order to save his pet conveyance, saying, 
 " How dare you destroy my paper, sir ? " 
 
 Bernard, with clinched fist, tore away from his almost 
 frantic wife to second Blackstone in his attack on Clay- 
 ton. Judge Stanley's tall form stood between them in a 
 moment. " Gentlemen, you forget yourselves, Bernard, 
 I am astonished at you," he said, turning sharply upon 
 his son-in-law. 
 
 Clayton stood calmly looking on. "I suppose you 
 will be making out a bill of sale of my soul next/' he 
 said, " and expect me to submit to its being retained by 
 you as though I had thought of such a sale. Now, Mr. 
 Blackstone, if you want your papers to be respected by 
 me, keep my name out of all such nefarious transactions. 
 I know my grandfather's will better than you or your 
 client," glancing toward Bernard, who was standing by 
 tlie side of his wife. 
 
 At this point Judge Stanley handed to Clayton the 
 deed he had prepared and for which his nephew had 
 asked. 
 
 "Here, Kate," said Frank, "you and I are the two 
 interested parties in this transaction. Look at this deed, 
 and see if it suits you. If not, then I will find a pur- 
 chaser whom it does." 
 
 Bernard's eyes were fastened upon his wife, as she, 
 with great dignity and deliberation, took the deed and 
 read it through. What would she say ? The issue all 
 rested upon her now. Having finished reading the 
 
THE STOR.MV PETREL. 43 
 
 paper, she returned it, with a quiet smile, and a look of 
 determination not unlil^e her cousin's. 
 
 "I see no objection to that, none whatever." Her 
 eyes kindled, and a flush crept up into her cheek as she 
 added, taking Frank's hand : " If 3'ou desire to free your 
 slaves, if you feel it to be your duty to do so, I shall not 
 interpose one technicality to prevent it ; it would be most 
 ungenerous and unfair. You have my best wishes in the 
 fulfilment of your purpose." 
 
 It was bravely said. Judge Stanley's eyes looked 
 very dim as they rested upon his daughter, but they held 
 admiration as well as tears. There was nothing more to 
 be done, Kate and Frank, the two contracting parties, 
 were fully in accord. So the battle was lost, and it only 
 remained for the various actors in the scene to retire 
 with such grace as they could command. 
 
 Without one word to his wife, Bernard Fletcher strode 
 out of the room, muttering something through his closed 
 teeth which sounded very much like an oath ; but of 
 course, that could not be — for was he not a gentleman, 
 with the most chivalric blood in Kentucky flowing in 
 azure stream through his veins ? 
 
 He and his lawyer mounted their horses and rode 
 away, and their discourse was known only to themselves. 
 
 Frank Clayton had a tremendous task before him, but 
 he addressed himself to it wiih an intensity of purpose 
 which swept away all obstacles. Sparks, with his miser- 
 able company of followers, was doing all in his power to 
 thwart and overthrow his plans. The laws of the State 
 made it impracticable for the freed slaves to remain 
 within its borders, and the removal of the little band, 
 furthermore, had to be accomplished with the utmost 
 secrecy and even diplomacy. But it was done ; and the 
 new year dawned upon the colony of dusky freedmen, 
 settled in Illinois, each family in its own comfortable 
 cabin, in all the dignity of proprietorship, their bene- 
 factor having given to each, as a New Year's gift, manu- 
 mission papers and the deed of a farm. The details of 
 the scheme were carefully worked out, and Frank spared 
 no pains in trying to make them understand the responsi- 
 bilities of their new position and to stimulate them to their 
 hifrhest and best endeavor. 
 
44 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 The last week of the old year was a wonderful holiday 
 week, and enthusiasm ran high in the new colony. There 
 was feasting and singing and dancing ; Ned laughed and 
 cried at the same time, and Eliza would have knelt 
 at the feet of the deliverer if he would have let her, 
 as she poured out her gratitude. " O Marsa Frank, de 
 Lor bress you for takin my ol man to saf place whar 
 dem wicked men can't fin im. Honey, you do grow mo 
 and mo like yo modder, Miss Fannie, der sainted young 
 Missus, when she cum home from de big city wid de 
 clearest little baby boy. Now you's dat same pickanniny, 
 an I spose yer done forgot all bout it. When you got 
 bigger, Marsa Lucas, your grampa, would take de ol hos 
 and put the saddle an bridle on, den to see dat little 
 spec o a boy what was one ob dese days to grow up to 
 be such a fin hansom man — I can see yer now, wid de 
 white fedder in yer hat, and wid top boots on, whip in yer 
 han an ol Marsa Lucas put his little man on de hos 
 and gib yer de reins all to yersef, I kin see de proud 
 blood ob de Lucasses mount up in de cheeks as you make 
 de ol hos go under de trees an roun de yard and de 
 orchard, an finly, you brung im up jis under de big 
 apple tree, when you pull hard on dem reins, and say 
 ' who;' and dar you was all mixed up wid de apple blos- 
 soms. De boy an' de bees after de honey in de blossoms, 
 an I clare to you, Marsa Frank, an no mistake, it was de 
 putties pictur you eber coud see. Ole Mars Lucas, jis 
 call de young missus ter see de young man an de hos an 
 de blossoms, all so mixed till yer could hardly tell which 
 was toder. Marsa Frank, I'd jus like a big picture ob 
 dat in a big frame, and set an mire it all day long." 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 There was one person at "Beechwood" to whom 
 Frank's absence brought unmixed satisfaction. Mordecai 
 no longer sat at Bernard Fletcher's gate. " Confound his 
 impudence," he said, grinding his teeth, "I wish it was 
 the South Sea Islands, instead of Illinois, and with six 
 feet of solid earth over him, too." 
 
 Bernard realized, fully, the unpleasant impression his 
 conduct had left at that ill-starred conference in the 
 library, and would have given a good deal to have effaced 
 it, and to have felt entirely reinstated in Kate's and her 
 father's esteem. He knew well how to charm, and made 
 it his study during the ensuing months to try and make his 
 wife in love with him afresh, and to knit up anew the tie 
 he had so nearly sundered between her father and him- 
 self. 
 
 A great peace and happiness came into Kate's heart. 
 She began to feel an absolute trust, and a sense of secu- 
 rity which had been lacking in the first months of her 
 marriage. 
 
 As the winter advanced, she was far from well ; but as 
 Dr. Barnes assured them there was no cause for uneasi- 
 ness, the physical tnalaise, so new and strange, became 
 almost a happiness, so strangely did it bring out the 
 wonderful tenderness of her husband. 
 
 At last there came a day when Dr. Barnes' carriage 
 stood all the day, and far into the night, in front of the 
 house at "Beechwood," the servants going about on their 
 errands silently and swiftly and with scared faces. The 
 gloom of a frightful uncertainty hung oxer the house. 
 Would it be life or death ? 
 
 " My God, how could I bear it } " asked her father, 
 when he was told of the possible event of Kate's death ; 
 and something like a muttered prayer came from Bernard's 
 white lips, as he paced the hall outside of his wife's 
 door. If she could only be spared, what would he not 
 do to make her future happy. Poor, shallow, sterile. 
 
46 THE STORMY PETREL, 
 
 though his nature was, he loved her, and this desperate 1 
 crisis revealed to him how much. / 
 
 But God was merciful, and an hour later Judge Stanley's 
 grateful heart was full as he looked down upon a soft 
 little package which he was told was his grandchild. 
 
 The strain of anxiety being over, Bernard was himself 
 again. "Pshaw!" he said, impatiently, "a girl; only a 
 girl!" 
 
 The convalescence was slow, but Kate felt as if she 
 could have had it last forever, so delicious was it to lie 
 and watch that marvel of Nature's delicate handiwork — 
 her little girl. She was denied the privilege of nourishing 
 her child ; but most fortunately, Martha's baby being only 
 a few weeks older than hers, she was enabled to peiform 
 that office in Kate's stead, and the young mother would 
 lie and watch in a kind of rapture the dressing and the 
 undressing, the warming and the comforting of her darling. 
 
 "Isn't she a beauty, Martha?" 
 
 " Deed she is, Miss Kate," answered the mellow 
 voice of the maid. 
 
 " Is your little girl pretty ? " 
 
 "Yes, Miss; /think so." But Martha was too busy 
 adjusting the little Katie's wraps to look up. 
 
 " Martha, you must bring her for me to see her," 
 persisted Katie. 
 
 Martha's face wore a very strange expression as she 
 suddenly rose, saying as she did so : " Miss Kate, you 
 mustn't forget the doctor's orders ; no talkin', you know. 
 Miss Kate. " And laying the sleeping child by its mother, 
 she found plenty to do in folding and putting away dainty 
 little bits of lace-trimmed garments. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 About a fortnight later, Judge Stanley sat in his 
 library reading a letter just received from his nephew 
 Frank, when he was startled by a message from Kate that 
 she wished to see him. There was something in the tone 
 of the message, or perhaps it was a vague premonition of 
 evil, that made him go towards Kate's room with strange 
 foreboding. After the lapse of a half-hour or more, the 
 old gentleman, very pale, and looking as if he had received 
 a blow, came out of his daughter's room. He ordered a 
 servant to go at once for Dr. Barnes ; then returned and 
 the door was once more closed upon father and child. 
 
 When Dr. Barnes's carriage drove up the gravel road to 
 the house, Judge Stanley went down and met him at the 
 door. Drawing him at once into the library and closing 
 the door, he said, in a broken voice : 
 
 "Doctor, we are in trouble, great trouble : that scoun- 
 drel Bernard will break my child's heart before he gets 
 through." 
 
 " Why, my dear old friend, what is it ? What has hap- 
 pened." 
 
 "Oh, there's no time to tell you now; go up and see 
 Kate, and give her something sedative. She has had a 
 shock, a terrible shock, and shC' feels that there is 
 nothing to live for, now that she has lost trust in her hus- 
 band. You will see how it is ; she scarcely knows what 
 she is saying,, poor thing." 
 
 The doctor went up-stairs, and Judge Stanley, with 
 hands clasped behind him and head bent, paced back anc 
 forth, trying to see the best way out of this for all con- 
 cerned. 
 
 Martha must go — yes, that is settled — she and her child 
 must go. Kate demanded that, and it must be done. 
 Should lie send her to Frank's colony ? or where ? Give 
 her her freedom as a reward for her conduct ? No ; that 
 would scarcely do. And yet he had a conviction that she 
 was a good girl, after all, " More sinned against than 
 
48 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 sinning," said he, nodding his head, " More sinned 
 against than sinning," he said again, even more positively 
 than before. " I'd stake a great deal on that." 
 
 At this moment the doctor returned. Looking at him 
 anxiously, the judge said : '' Well, how is she ? " 
 
 " Oh, very quiet; I have given her a soothing powder, 
 and I think she'll get through the night comfortably. But, 
 by Jove, it is a shame ! I'd like to wring that man's 
 neck ! I'd " 
 
 " Well, he is her husband, and she is my child, and 
 we've got to make it as smooth and easy for her as we 
 can. The girl must go awa}', that's clear; she and her 
 child must go somewhere, and at once." 
 
 " I have it," said the doctor ; " just the very thing. My 
 sister-in-law, in Louisville, has been a long time looking 
 for just such a maid as Martha. Now, let me suggest 
 that, as in law you are her real owner, you allow Kate to 
 execute the manumission papers, and you can make a bill- 
 of-sale to my sister. With these, we can send Martha and 
 her child to Louisville. The free papers can be destroyed 
 and the name left blank in the bill-of-sale, to be filled in 
 after my sister consents to the purchase, as I have no 
 doubt she will. Harry Barnes, her son, will stop to see 
 me on his way home from New Orleans. I expect him 
 dail}', and he can take the mother and child and deliver 
 them safely to his mother." 
 
 Dr. Barnes' suggestions were adopted, and the papers 
 were made accordingly. 
 
CHAPTER XL 
 
 On a beautiful afternoon in June, as the magnificent 
 steamer "Aleck Scott "was cutting the bright waters of 
 the Ohio River, making good speed against a swift current, 
 two men were sitting on the hurricane deck smoking and 
 talking of the events of the trip thus far from New 
 Orleans. One, a young man of about twenty-five, with 
 dark hair and eyes, a clean-shaven face, except the con- 
 spicuous mustache. He evidently belonged to some one 
 of the professions, and was, although young, quite a man 
 of the world. 
 
 His companion, who was somewhat his senior, wore a 
 large brilliant in his scarlet necktie. He was regretting 
 with loud voice the approach to Lucaston, where they 
 must separate, and said : 
 
 "Come, Barnes, make the trip to Louisville with us, my 
 boy. The old uncle will wait till your return for his visit.'' 
 
 "No, Hawks, I can't afford to take any chances on the 
 old man. He kind o' dotes on me, and he is without an 
 heir; has lots o' niggers and land, and but one poor rela- 
 tion. You see, he wrote me just before we left the city 
 to be sure and stop on my way up, as he had important 
 matters for me to attend to; you'd better stop off with 
 me and perhaps you may be able to gather up some ne- 
 groes there to fill your orders." 
 
 " I have no orders, Barnes, for anything but for some 
 fancy articles. I reckon you don't keep that kind of 
 cattle there in your small town. Come down, and let us 
 have another game before you leave us anyway." 
 
 "No, Hawks, I won't play another game. You already 
 have my spare cash, and I must not ask favors first thing 
 when I see my uncle." 
 
 "Tell you what L"ll do, Barnes. I'll play you $200 
 against your watch and chain. Come, now, if you dare. 
 I'll give you a chance for your life ; and if you win, I'll 
 agree to stop over a day or two, and we'll go up to 
 Louisville together." 
 
50 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 *' Damn it, Hawks you know my weakness, and that I 
 can't take a dare. Come on, I'll give you a trial even if 
 I am out of luck to-day." 
 
 When the " Scott " blew her whistle for Lucaston, Barnes 
 and Hawks came out of the saloon wiping their mus- 
 taches, Barnes looking flushed and smiling. 
 
 "You are going to stay over with me in accordance 
 with your promise, eh ? " 
 
 " Yes. Porter, bring down my baggage," said Hawks. 
 
 " I'll take you to the hotel, as I know nothing of my 
 uncle's household arrangements," said Barnes. 
 
 " All right, my boy ; we can have a good time there, I 
 reckon." 
 
 At the wharf. Dr. Barnes was waiting with his carriage 
 for his nephew ; and after their greeting was over, young 
 Barnes introduced, " My friend, Mr. Hawks " to his uncle. 
 
 The doctor drove to the hotel, and on the way home 
 he said: "By the way, Harry, who was that flashy look- 
 ing fellow you introduced to me? " 
 
 Harry colored, and said hastily: " Oh, he's an enter- 
 taining sort of a fellow I picked up on the road ; his name 
 is Hawks." 
 
 " Humph ! " said the doctor. "Well, if you were so in- 
 discreet as to 'pick him up,' I advise you to lose no time 
 in dropping him." 
 
 The doctor had been fond and proud of his handsome 
 young nephew, but there was something now which made 
 him put on his glasses and give a long, scrutinizing 
 glance at his young face. What he saw there, we do not 
 know, but he said to himself, " I must go down and talk 
 with Lucy about this boy ; he needs looking after. Why, 
 it would break her heart if he went wrong." 
 
 When young Barnes was made acquainted with the 
 nature of the business his uncle desired to entrust him 
 with he seemed greatly puzzled. 
 
 " I am at a loss, uncle, to understand why Miss Kate, 
 or rather Mrs. Fletcher, wishes to part with such a 
 valuable servant. And it occurs to me, uncle, that the baby 
 Martha was carrying this morning, which, I take it, was 
 hers, is about as white as Mrs. Fletcher's. How does it 
 strike you ? " 
 
 "Yes; and I suppose this is the cause of selling or 
 sending away this valuable woman. It looks as much 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 5 1 
 
 like Bernard Fletcher as his own child does ; and yet it may 
 be unjust suspicion, for, by the laws of physiology, the 
 'sins of the fathers are visited upon the children to the 
 third and fourth generation ; and some white ancestor 
 may reappear in this poor little waif, who, with her 
 mother, is turned adrift, like Hagar in the wilderness." 
 
 " Yes, uncle, it is the old story repeated ; so the world 
 has not changed much in the last four thousand years." 
 
 So it was settled, that when the old steamer " Clermont " 
 came on her way from St. Louis to Louisville, Harry 
 Barnes was to take to his mother Martha and her child. 
 
 When all were safely stowed on the steamer, and Martha 
 and her baby turned over to the chambermaid for care. 
 Hawks took the arm of Harry Barnes, and said : 
 
 "Let us have something to drink. You liave done 
 little else than attend to that uncle of yours. Are you so 
 fond of him ? " 
 
 "Well, I am as much as a poor nephew can be of a 
 rich uncle who is likely to make him his heir; and then, 
 you see, he has been giving me instructions in regard to 
 a piece of important business I am to transact for him at 
 Louisville." 
 
 "Has that handsome wench and baby anything to do 
 with it ? How is it you never mentioned to me there was 
 such a piece of furniture to be had in your little burgh ? " 
 
 "Well, you see, Hawks, I had no idea that woman could 
 have been bought for love or money." 
 
 Then Barnes detailed to his companion the troubles at 
 " The Glen " as he understood them ; not omitting the 
 transfer of Martha and the blank bill-of-sale which he had 
 in his possession. Hawks's eyes twinkled with delight as 
 he heard this latter bit of news, and givinghis companion a 
 thrust in the ribs with his cane, he good-humoredly said : 
 
 " Barnes, you are a lucky dog. I'd give you a clear 
 thousand for that article ; but damn the brat — what could 
 be done with that ? I don't suppose anything would tempt 
 the mother to part with it." 
 
 During this time, they had taken their drinks, and re- 
 turned to the upper deck and were now seated at the 
 stern of the steamer, lookmg back at Lucaston, which 
 was beautifully located on a commanding point of the 
 river bank. 
 
 " I want revenge on you, Barnes, for the last game you 
 
52 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 beat me the other day. Come, let us step into ' Texas,' 
 here, and have a game to while away the time. " 
 
 " No," said Barnes, " I don't feel in any mood for' 
 playing this afternoon." 
 
 Hawks knew his man too well to press the matter 
 further, and said : 
 
 " Well, join me in a bottle of wine. I have had 
 nothing at your country tavern but whiskey straight." 
 
 " Then, I conclude you found the whiskey good." 
 
 "Nectar; fit for a pirate king; but come in, and let us 
 have the wine." 
 
 So saying, they sauntered into the room under the pilot- 
 house, usually denominated "Texas" on Southern 
 steamers. The wine was called for and drunk. Barnes 
 also called for a bottle, and under the generous influence 
 of potations, the subject of cards was renewed, and they 
 were soon playing for small stakes. The fickle goddess 
 seemed to favor Barnes, who won nearly every game. 
 Hawks declared the stakes were so small as not to tempt 
 him ; and the game was soon discontinued for the 
 night. 
 
 Toward midnight of the second day, Hawks and 
 Barnes were again playing, when Hawks called on the 
 bartender for some brandy and sugar for two, saying as 
 he looked up to his companion : 
 
 '' I presume I may order for you ? " 
 
 Barnes nodded assent, as, with an abstracted air, he 
 only half saw Hawks shufifle the cards, adding : 
 
 " I want to retire soon. Hawks. I can't bear to have 
 my mother see me to-morrow, after such a night as I see 
 you have laid out for us." 
 
 " Never you mind about to-morrow ; you'll look as 
 fresh as a daisy after an hour's sleep." 
 
 The bartender himself brought the brandy ; and, while 
 Barnes was eying intently the cards dealt him. Hawks 
 took one of the glasses and, turning around as if to 
 examine it, emptied a white powder into the liquid; then 
 taking the other glass, he said : 
 
 " Here's to Fortune : may she ever favor the fair ! " 
 
 Wiping his mustache with deliberation, and watching 
 his companion as he examined his cards, with a percepti- 
 ble smile upon his face, before drinking his brandy, he 
 inquired : 
 
THE STORMY PETREL, 53 
 
 " Well, how do you like them ? Not a bad hand, I 
 judge by the way you smile, Barnes." 
 
 "Ah, did I smile? Well, to be candid, you gave me a 
 pretty fair hand, Hawks." 
 
 As Hawks examined his cards, a scowl was plainly 
 visible on his face ; and he said : 
 
 " What do you do, Barnes ? " 
 
 " Since you complain of the small stakes, I am in for 
 that 'pot —$50." 
 
 Hawks mused a monieiit; looked at his cards again; 
 then, as if speaking to himself, said : 
 
 " ' Faint heart never won fair lady,' or anything else 
 worth winning," and he covered the $50, and then hesi- 
 tated a little. " I'll go you $50 better, just to try your 
 mettle," he added, in a half-sneering tone. 
 
 Barnes looked up quickly and the blood rushed to his 
 face as if an insult had been offered him, and excitedly 
 put down a $50 bill, saying as he did so : 
 
 "Well, ril call — no, I'll risk the pile; here is 5300 
 better. Now, we will see jiv^i//;- mettle." 
 
 His companion smiled as he had not done before. 
 
 "I like your grit, Barnes, but I am in now, and 'the 
 longest pole knocks the persimmons.' There is $300 to 
 see yours, and a cool thousand that says mine's the best 
 hand." 
 
 Barnes bit his lip, and the blood surged again to his 
 face and bnck to his heart, as he sat speechless, gazing at 
 his cards. Finally he said : 
 
 " You know I have no more money, and you must give 
 me a show for my life." 
 
 " You have other valuables that will enable you tf> 
 come in if you have confidence in your hand. Can't 
 admit this pleading the baby-act here. 'Put up or shut 
 up ' is my motto." 
 
 Barnes felt goaded by each of these taunts. He 
 replied : 
 
 "I only have my watch; that is not enough to call. 
 You make it $200 instead of a thousand, or — lend the 
 $800 to me, and I'll call." 
 
 "Oh, no; I don't care, my bov, to lend you a stick to 
 break my head with. You are too modest by half in 
 enumerating your worldly goods. He leaned forward, a 
 curious expression coming into his beady black eyes. I 
 
54 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 think, if you will examine the packet sent to your niolher, 
 you will find there the wherewith to call me." 
 
 " No, you are mistaken, sir," said Barnes, at the same 
 time drawing out the package of papers referred to and 
 handing them across the table to his companion, saying : 
 
 "Examine for yourself." 
 
 Hawks did as he was requested ; and after carefully 
 reading the bill-of-sale and the private letter of Dr. Barnes 
 to his sister-in-law, which was unsealed, he coolly handed 
 the bill-of-sale back, saying : " Put my name in the blank 
 there (indicating), and "$i,ooo" in this blank (indicat- 
 ing), and you can call me for that pot. Otherwise, I 
 shall be under the necessity of raking it down." 
 
 Barnes looked at him with scorn and contempt ; his 
 lip curled as he said: "Do you take me for a thief? 
 Here is a trust I don't propose to betray." A look of 
 honest indignation blazed for a moment in his face, and 
 then faded out, as he added : 
 
 " Make the stake $200 and I'll call it with my watch. 
 You must give me a chance for my life. You know I 
 have the best hand and you propose to bluff me out ! " 
 
 " If you are so sure your hand is the best, Barnes, you 
 run no risk in filling in my name there, and it can easily 
 be erased. Come, I am tired of this ; either play the 
 game or quit ! " and with that, he put his hand upon the 
 money and sat looking at his companion, his cold glitter- 
 ing eyes freezing the blood. 
 
 Barnes looked again at his hand and then at the paper 
 that had been handed to him. Finally he said : 
 
 " It is impossible. My uncle will know it whether I 
 should win or lose." 
 
 " Not unless you have a mind to tell him, Barnes. 
 The letter there to your mother treats the matter as of so 
 great secrecy that she is not to mention it in her corre- 
 spondence, and he will conclude you have carried out his 
 orders, unless, as I said, you choose to tell him." 
 
 " Damnation, Hawks, did you read the private let- 
 ter ? " 
 
 "Of course ; you handed me the papers and told me to 
 satisfy myself, and I did so. You're all right with that 
 paper in your possession ; all that ails you, Barnes, is lack 
 of sand. I see you are going to back," and Hawks began 
 to " haul dpwn " the money. 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 55 
 
 '■ Hold ! '' exclaimed Barnes, stung to the quick by 
 
 this last taunt. " Where is the pen ? By , I'll see that 
 
 hand if I die for it ! " 
 
 He put his hands to his head ; his brain seemed on 
 fire ; and there was a strange sensation there that made 
 him falter. 
 
 "Don't give out, Barnesy boy," said his companion, 
 producing the pen and ink. " There's pen and ink, if 
 you are not too much excited to write. Come, come — 
 quiet down. You are not going to die for this, nor any- 
 thing like it," he added, in a conciliatory manner. 
 
 When young Barnes returned the paper Hawks 
 looked over it, remarking: "What now?" 
 
 " Place it on that pile, and I call you ! " exclaimed 
 Barnes. 
 
 "Very well," said Hawks. "I have two pairs," as he 
 placed the bill-of-sale on the pile of money." 
 
 " And I," said Barnes, laconically — " how big ? Let's 
 see ? Can you overtop those .'' " exposing a pair of kings 
 and a pair of aces ; and so sure was he of winning, that 
 he put forth his hand for the prize, when Hawks, by a 
 quick movement, placed his hand on the "pot," saying 
 as he did so : 
 
 " Look at these ! ' laying four jacks on the table. 
 " You see my two pairs are all alike." 
 
 Barnes sprang to his feet and stood gazing at his com- 
 panion, half bewildered, as Hawks carefully folded the 
 bill-of-sale, placing it in his breast-pocket, stuffing in 
 also the roll of bills. He counted out five $50 bills and 
 said, as he threw them to Barnes : 
 
 "There; you may return this at anytime it may suit 
 you to do so. Now, let me see : we will soon meet the 
 ' Scott ' on her return trip. I must have things in readi- 
 ness to go back to St. Louis on her, as there will be press- 
 ing need for me in Jefferson City on Saturday. Barnes, 
 my boy, I wish you would arrange with that girl to be 
 ready when we meet the ' Scott.' In order to save a 
 scene, you'd better pretend to go on board and leave me 
 to make arrangements for the change of destination as 
 well as ownership." 
 
 Thus Hawks ran on, as though only an ordinary event 
 had occurred. 
 
 Harry Barnes sank down, with his head bowed in his 
 
56 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 hands, resting upon the table, paying no heed to what 
 was said or the money which had been flung upon the 
 table. 
 
 Leaving him, Hawks stepped up to the pilot and 
 inquired where they should meet the " Scott." 
 
 "Just around the bend — that is her light you see 
 there now. She is a little late." 
 
 "Hail her, Mr. Pilot, and run alongside; I want to 
 board her. Where is the captain .'' Is he on watch to- 
 night ? " 
 
 " No, Mr. Hawks, not since eleven o'clock. He turned 
 in then, and the first mate is on duty since." 
 
 " Call him through the trumpet, and have a line i:)assed 
 to the ' Scott ' and a plank for some passengers," said 
 Hawks, authoritatively. 
 
 He next went to the chambermaid, whom he found 
 nodding in her chair. 
 
 *' Kitty," he said, " I want the woman and baby that 
 got on at Lucaston yesterday, gotten ready immediately. 
 Tell her Mr. Barnes, her young master, and myself are 
 going to return on tiie ' Scott ' when we meet her, which 
 will be in a few minutes. "Take that " (slipping a silver 
 dollar in her hand), " and see that you have her ready in 
 time." 
 
 "All right, Mr. Hawks, rely on me for that. We are 
 sorry to lose you so soon." 
 
 While the chambermaid ■was getting Martha in readi- 
 ness, and the mate below arranging his gang-plank and 
 line. Hawks looked in upon Harry, who remained in the 
 same position he left him at the card table in "Texas." 
 Touching hnn upon the shoulder and calling him by 
 name, he continued : 
 
 " Cheer up, old boy. Here, put this money away," 
 at the same time stuffing the bills into the breast-pocket 
 of the miserable man's coat, adding in soliloquy : " Til 
 take all these papers that have reference to the nigger; 
 now that she's mine, I may need them." So saying, he 
 gathered u]3 the letter of Dr. Barnes, and the other 
 papers lying upon the table. 
 
 "Come, Barnes, rouse up, old fellow; you're not drunk 
 are you ? " and he gave his companion a rousing shake ; 
 but still no sign of consciousness. " Damn it ! I don't 
 w^nt to leave you in this condition. Can it be that i 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 57 
 
 have overdosed him ? Oh, I guess he'll be all right by 
 morning." 
 
 He then went quickly to the clerk's ofifice and told that 
 worthy to have Barnes put to bed, adding : " He has 
 taken too much, and must sleep it off. Are we nearing 
 the ' Scott '.'' I suppose the mate told you I want to return 
 on her." 
 
 " Yes ; we'll run alongside." 
 
 " I have some papers for Captain Swan, and instruc- 
 tions to deliver them on meeting him anywhere, as they 
 are of importance ; so his agent in St. Louis said." 
 
 Soon, the steamers shrieked out their signals and ran 
 alongside. 
 
 Martha with her child was hurried across the plank, 
 in the light of glowing furnace fires of both steamers and 
 she seemed going to a fiery region. 
 
 Hawks followed soon after; and Captain Swan cried 
 out : 
 
 " All aboard ! Let her go down there ! Give her a 
 turn ahead, Mr. Pilot," and ahead she went. 
 
 Martha stood upon the lower deck, her haggard eyes 
 looking piteously about for Harry Barnes, her young- 
 master. When Hawks came near her, she said to him, 
 in soft, timid voice : 
 
 " 1 saw you with Mars Harry Barnes yesterday. He 
 has sent word to me to get on this boat ; can you tell me 
 where he is, sir ? 
 
 " Oh, yes ; I guess that's all right. He'll be 'round 
 soon. However, I'll see to you. Come to the cham- 
 bermaid and wait until I find him for you." 
 
 He returned soon to the clerk; gave orders concerning 
 Martha's care, and instructions that if she inquired about 
 her young master Harry Barnes, she was to be told he 
 was all right. 
 
 " That's something fancy you've been buying, I 
 reckon," said the clerk, with a wink at Hawks, who seemed 
 to know all river men. 
 
 " Well, you see I have a sister up in Jefferson City 
 who wanted a good maid, and gave me an order some 
 months ago to find one for her ; so I am taking her up, 
 and hope she will suit." 
 
 So saying, he placed a package of papers upon the 
 counter, remarking: 
 
58 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 "Jim, take good care of these ; put them in your safe. 
 I am going as far as St. Louis with you. Now, the next 
 thing is, to have that girl there stowed away; then you 
 may dispose of me. Got any place, eh ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, your old room. I'll look after the other mat- 
 ter and 3'ou can turn in whenever you are ready. Here's 
 the key." 
 
 On the following day, Martha sat, with her babe in her 
 arms, upon deck, motionless, silent, despairing. If she 
 could only summon courage to end it all, by one leap with 
 her child into those dark, rushing waters ! She could 
 have done it gladly had she been alone. But how could 
 she drag that warm, clinging little creature down into 
 those cold depths ? She shuddered to think of it, and 
 clasped the sleeping child convulsively. 
 
 Hawks had been watching her from a distance, and 
 sauntered carelessly by where she sat. 
 
 "I suppose you found your young master all right ? " 
 said he. 
 
 The desperate impulse faded away, and with languid 
 submission, she answered: "No, sir; I haven't seen 
 him. What am I to do ? " 
 
 The pathos of the helpless question would have touched 
 any but a heart of stone. 
 
 " Well, you had better come along with me," answered 
 Hawks ; " I'll see that you get to him all right. He must 
 have got left on the other boat, and he'll be along in a 
 day or two. I'll look after you." 
 
 " Thank you, sir," she murmured, timidly. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 When Hawks arrived at Jefferson City, he informed 
 his sister, Mrs. Hunter, that this was a woman and child 
 he had bought, and wanted them to remain with her for a 
 short time until he returned to New Orleans ; and that he 
 had to play a little deception in order to get her quietly 
 away from her former master and home, by telling her 
 she was sold to Mrs. Barnes. 
 
 ''Humor the thing," he said, a few days later, on taking 
 leave ; " and see if you can't bribe her to sell or give you 
 her baby." 
 
 "No, Tom," said Mrs. Hunter; " I would not have that 
 child at any price or on any conditions. If she is the 
 mother, it is too white to be a slave. I am somehow led 
 to suspect it is a stolen white child, for I can see no trace 
 of the negro in its features." 
 
 "There's no doubt about her being the mother of the 
 child, d — n it ; she wouldn't cling to anybody else's baby 
 as she does to that. Why, she glares at me like a tigress 
 if I talk of separating it from her, and I reckon its white 
 complexion is what made the trouble and led to my get- 
 ting hold of as pretty a piece of property as there is in the 
 South. By Jove, what eyes, and what a carriage of the 
 head, and what shoulders ! Egad, I'm fortunate !" And 
 Mr. Hawks gave one of his pleasant, suggestive laughs. 
 
 " By the way," said he, turning to his sister, "see that 
 she is kept out of sight and that she keeps her mouth shut." 
 
 So saying, he passed out by way of the servants' quar- 
 ters, and soon found Martha, the object of his search. 
 
 Martha listened impassively as he told her that Harry 
 Barnes had been left by the boat just as he supposed, 
 and was ill now, but would come or send for her in a day 
 or two. 
 
 What difference did it make to her where she wms or 
 with whom ! Such was her thought as Hawks stood 
 examining her points with scrutinizing gaze. 
 
 " You are to stay right here for the present," said he. 
 
Go THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 " Now, Martha," he added, in gentler tone, " if you will 
 consent to part with that child of yours /will buy you, 
 and give you a home where work will be a stranger to 
 your hands. Think of what I have told you, and on my 
 return, I'll see what Mrs. Barnes will take for you."' 
 
 Martha looked after him as he walked away, hate, 
 loathing, reckless despair in her eyes. ''If you take 
 away my child, I will kill myself." She said it with 
 deliberate, determined emphasis. A memor\'^ of past 
 kindness, of Miss Kate, of Dick, swept over her, and, for 
 the first time, tears — blessed tears — came to her relief ; 
 and as she sobbed, the awful passion of her grief seemed 
 assuaged. 
 
 Some time elapsed before Hawks succeeded in 
 obtaining the number of slaves he desired, to fill the 
 orders he had received. He decided to concentrate 
 them at Booneville, where Martha could see and know 
 what he was going to do, and she could then choose her 
 position as among the slaves or above them. 
 
 Mrs. Barnes, of course, did not appear to claim her; 
 and upon Hawks' return to JefTerson City, Martha was 
 informed that she belonged to him ; that young Barnes 
 had been taken violently ill, and been sent to his mother, 
 in Louisville, where he had died of brain fever ; that Mrs. 
 Barnes had offered to sell Martha to him for $1200, 
 which sum he had paid for her. 
 
 That portion of his story relating to Barnes' illness 
 and death was too true. Soon after the steamers parted 
 company, in mid-river, on the Ohio, during that night in 
 June, the clerk sought to arouse j^oung Barnes, but was 
 unsuccessful; and he was finally carried to his state-room 
 in an unconscious stupor, evidently the result of the drug- 
 that had been administered to him in his last draught of 
 brandy. 
 
 On the following day, he awoke with great pain in his 
 head ; and after several ineffectual efforts to rise or to 
 recall the events of the last few hours, he finally remem- 
 bered the trust his uncle had given him, and at last came 
 the memory of the game of cards and the stake for which 
 he had played and — lost ! His mind could only grasp 
 the dim outlines of the events of his companion's depart- 
 ure from the state-room, and some injunctions about 
 silence regarding the fate of Martha. 
 
THE STORMV PETREL. 6l 
 
 In despair, with a moan, he attempted to rise again 
 from his pillow only to see the state-room and its furni- 
 ture spin around, and finally to dissolve into space, and 
 he fell heavily back in a swoon ! 
 
 Upon the arrival of the " Clermont " at her dock at 
 Louisville, Harry Barnes was found in his berth in a com- 
 atose state with high fever, and continued mutterings 
 about the "betrayal of a trust." When the captain 
 learned his condition, he sent a messenger to his mother 
 and had him conveyed to her home. 
 
 For days, incoherent words were all that he uttered ; 
 and what was supposed to be brain fever dragged its 
 weary and painful length over the suiTerer. The fearful 
 agony endured upon the steamer in that last game of 
 cards, now came surging over him with every increase of 
 the fever, and the face of Hawks appeared like a mock- 
 ing demon luring him on to destruction. 
 
 Upon his return to consciousness, Harry Barnes made 
 an effort to explain to his mother something of the cir- 
 cumstances that had befallen him. The effort brought 
 on a relapse, and he never recovered consciousness after- 
 wards, dying with the secret locked in his bosom and 
 only known to Tom Hawks, who had returned to Louis- 
 ville and kept himself informed as to young Barnes' 
 condition while he remained at a safe distance from his 
 victim. 
 
 The warm weather had passed, and autumn with its 
 brief Indian summer was waning rapidh', when Hawks 
 returned to Jefferson City. He had drank deeply since 
 the death of Harry Barnes, and his usual prompt busi- 
 ness habits seemed to have deserted him. He had seen 
 the funeral procession of the widow's son at Louisville, 
 and in a debauch that night, had tried to escape from 
 the avenging angel that followed him. 
 
 The brutal nature of the man was now fully aroused ; 
 and when he became convinced that Martha would resist 
 any attempt at separation from her child, he determined 
 to resort to the harshest measures in his power on the 
 tri]) and at Booneville. 
 
 A month later, when preparing to start south, he 
 bound his human chattels, Martha with the rest, in 
 couples, and placed them on board a steamer for St. 
 Louis, It was late in November, and he had received an 
 
62 THE STORIMY PETREL. 
 
 urgent summons from parties in New Orleans to reach 
 that place at an early day. 
 
 On the second night, there came up a fearful storm, 
 compelling the steamer to lie-to where she had stopped 
 to discharge freight. The wind shifted suddenly to the 
 north and the weather became intensely cold. The gale 
 prevented the steamer from attempting to move on the 
 following day, and the floating ice gave warning that 
 there was danger that the steamer might have to winter 
 in the unlooked-for quarters. 
 
 On the third day, the wind abated, and the captain 
 made an effort to proceed on his voyage. After a night 
 of battle with the ice, about daylight on the following 
 morning an alarm was given that the boat was leak- 
 ing badly from a large rent in the hull, cut by the 
 ice. 
 
 The wildest confusion prevailed on board, especially on 
 the after-deck, where the slaves were bound together in 
 hopeless bondage. Hawks rushed from his state-room, 
 and with pistol in hand, commanded silence and obedi- 
 ence from his slaves. 
 
 The pilot headed the boat for the shore and succeeded 
 in reaching it, when she careened to one side and settled 
 down so that the floating ice almost swept the lower deck. 
 Hawks hastily marched his slaves to the upper deck, 
 where a staging was rigged and passengers were trans- 
 ferred to the shore. 
 
 Martha was encumbered with her child ; and in crossing 
 the staging she fell, and but for the main strength and 
 presence of mind of the woman to whom she was tied, 
 would have fallen into the angry waters that were howl- 
 ing like so many demons between the sunken vessel and 
 the shore. 
 
 The command of Hawks to, " Let the d d brat go 
 
 and save yourself," was unheeded; and as soon as the 
 slaves were on shore, he said in an angry tone : 
 
 "Your devilish obstinacy in hanging on to that child has 
 come near costing me two thousand dollars ; and now I 
 warn you, I shall dispose of it at the first opportunity, in 
 my own way. I have tried kindness and coaxing with 
 you ; now we'll see how another tack will answer, with 
 your infernal fuss about that baby." 
 
 "If you want to please me, you will kill us both," said 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 6^ 
 
 she, with a reckless defiance, looking straight into his 
 cruel eyes. 
 
 " Not another word, d n you," and he turned away 
 
 to superintend his luggage, which was now being trans- 
 ferred ashore. 
 
 The morning was very cold and the wind blew violently. 
 Some cabins of the wood-choppers were taken possession 
 of and a fire kindled in the old deserted and tumble-down 
 fire-places. This being a wood-yard, the steamer's whistle, 
 that was blown violently as soon as she was in distress, 
 brought the men who lived near by. Hawks made arrange- 
 ments with one of them to carry him to the next town 
 where he could get conveyance for his slaves to St. 
 Charles, from which place he hoped to be able to reach 
 St. Louis before the close of lower navigation on the Mis- 
 sissippi. After three days' tedious travel, he succeeded in 
 reaching St. Charles, and obtaining some venturesome 
 boatmen, under heavy bribes, to attempt crossing the Mis- 
 souri River, filled with floating ice of wonderful shapes 
 and sizes that the current was bearing rapidly down, so 
 a.s to effectually prevent the usual ferry boat from cross- 
 ing. 
 
 The boatmen said they could force their way over, so 
 that the party embarked on what seemed like a frail skiff 
 for such a voyage. On stepping into the boat, Martha 
 missed her footing and would have fallen into the water 
 had not Hawks seized her, snatched the baby from her 
 trembling grasp and hurled it through the air, as related 
 in the opening chapter. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 After crossing the river at St. Charles, with his gang 
 of slaves, Hawks procured teams and arrived in St. Louis 
 that night. He drove to one of his well-known haunts, 
 where Martha and the other slaves were placed in a back 
 portion of the building, by means of a private way through 
 a narrow alley ; and though delirious and burning with 
 fever, Martha walked along, caressing a bundle of clothes 
 as her baby, sometimes talking soothingly to it and again 
 raving and trying to rescue it from drowning in the most 
 piteous tones. 
 
 Medical aid was at once summoned, as Hawks felt 
 alarmed for the result of his inhuman act in taking the 
 child from the mother in such a brutal way. 
 
 The physician pronounced the case brain fever, caused 
 by cold and some great mental shock. After leaving 
 medicine and giving instructions to keep the patient as 
 quiet as possible, he took his leave, promising to look in 
 on the morrow. 
 
 "That is a valuable woman," said he, as he walked down- 
 stairs with Hawks, who had been present and witnessed 
 the diagnosis of the case. " She must have cost you a 
 round sum. Where did you get her? Up country, I sup- 
 pose ? But you may lose her. She is desperately ill." 
 
 Hawks answered or evaded the questions of Dr. Elmore 
 as suited his purpose. 
 
 On the following day, Martha's condition was worse, 
 and day after day the doctor called. He shook his head 
 when Hawks inquired if there was any hope, saying only : 
 
 '"As long as there is life, there is hope.' " 
 
 " I must go on the steamer to-morrow," said Hawks. 
 " It may be her last trip for the season." 
 
 ''As for taking that woman on board. Hawks, that's 
 out of the question. You may as well put a bullet 
 through her head at once." 
 
 " Let me have your bill in the morning, Doctor. How 
 much is it ? " 
 
THE STOR!\IY PETREL. 65 
 
 " Ail told, two hundred dollars," 
 
 " Indeed ? So much ? I had not expected it," said 
 Hawks, dryly." 
 
 " You told me to spare no pains, time or money. I 
 have called in two of our best physicians in consultation, 
 and for the last few days, I have almost lived in this sick 
 
 room 
 
 "I'll have to sell a nigger to get the money to pa\ 
 you." Hawks reflected a moment, ihen said, " Doctor, if 
 you will pay the consulting phvsicians and give me a 
 receipted bill for your services, I'll give you a bill-of-sale 
 of this woman and let you cure her, if you can." 
 
 "That's a bad bargain, " responded the doctor, " but if 
 you are hard up, I'll do it and take my chances.'" 
 
 So the necessary papers were made out and exchanged 
 on the following morning, Hawks going south on the 
 steamer, and Dr. Elmore redoubling his efforts to save 
 his property, as well as patient. 
 
 The ninth day had come, and Dr. Elmore sat watching 
 Martha, expecting a change, and hoping for a favorable 
 one. A more quiet state of mind and body had set in ; 
 the wandering eyes were closed, and sleep was now the 
 last hope. 
 
 "Keep her perfectly still," said the doctor to the 
 nurse. "If she wakes again, she will be saved ; answer 
 no questions, and she may pull through." 
 
 At the expiration of three hours, the eyes of the sick 
 woman opened wearily, and the faint light in the room 
 disclosed the strange nurse. 
 
 " Where am I ? " whispered the patient. 
 
 " Be quiet, child, yous bery sick, and the doctor says 
 you don mus talk any ; so be quiet, honey." 
 
 "Where is my baby ? Bring her quick or I'll get up 
 and find her myself. Oh, I had such a dream about her. 
 I thought she was lost in a river of ragin ice ! " 
 
 The nurse handed her the old bundle that had deluded 
 and quieted her during her illness, but it failed of its pur- 
 pose now. In great excitement, she cast it from her and 
 with an effort to rise, fell back unconscious. 
 
 Upon the doctor's return, he gave her a soothing 
 draught, and again she slept quietly. 
 
 In the morning, she said to her nurse in a natural 
 voice : 
 
66 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 " Where is my baby, and where am I ? " 
 
 " Deed, honey, I can't tell you anyting. Marsa 
 doctor done gib me one scorcher for lowin yer ter talk 
 yistidy." 
 
 "But, Auntie, I must know about my baby," said 
 Martha. "Tell me, is she safe and well?" 
 
 Dr. Elmore came lightly into the room just at that 
 moment. 
 
 " She's woke up all right, Doctor," said the nurse. 
 
 " Doctor, where is my baby .'' I shall die if vou don't 
 tell me." 
 
 " You are too weak to talk now, Martha," 
 
 Martha shuddered and put up her hands to her 
 head. 
 
 " O my God ! " she said, in great agitation ; " I remem- 
 ber all, now. How he tossed my baby into the water." 
 
 " Now take some of this broth," said the doctor. 
 " I will talk this over by-and-by." 
 
 She did not seem to hear or see him ; her eyes were 
 fixed upon some imagined scene. "Oh, it all comes 
 back now — the river— the floating ice — my baby whirled 
 through the air. Somebody on the shore calling and 
 holding out his arms — and then, all is blank — oh, my 
 God I my God ! " And she sank back, with dry, de- 
 spairing eyes. 
 
 " Now, Martha," said the doctor, " I see how it was. 
 You fainted and thought you saw your baby fall into the 
 water. I warrant it is safe, and I will make an effort to 
 get it for you. Take this broth and be quiet, so you may 
 get well." 
 
 "Doctor, I don't want to get well; I want to die," 
 said the girl, closing her eyes, but taking the broth, in 
 obedience to the doctor's request. 
 
 Dr. Elmore was a kind-hearted man, and thought very 
 seriously of making further inquiries into the story 
 Martha had told him ; but second thought prfvailecl. 
 " She is likely to live, and I won't bother with the busi- 
 ness ; I may get into trouble, so I'll let events work 
 themselves out," he thought to irimself. 
 
 "How is your white elephant, your new purchase?" 
 said the doctor's brother at dinner that day. 
 
 Chester Elmore was less inclined to the sentimental 
 side of life than his elder brother, the doctor. He had 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 67 
 
 been to see Martha, to satisfy himself as to what kind of 
 an investment his brother had made in buying " a half- 
 dead nigger," as the transaction was termed. 
 
 Seeing the woman with a fair chance of recovery, he was 
 now feeling his way to a purchase if he could get a bar- 
 gain. He was a bachelor, living with his mother and sis- 
 ter, at Independence Missouri, and was visiting St. Louis 
 on business. 
 
 " Oh," said the doctor, " I think she'll pull through and 
 in that event, I have made a thousand dollars." 
 
 '' How much did you pay, Doc," persisted the brother. 
 
 " Let me see, Chet. My bill was one hundred and 
 fifty dollars; I was to pay consulting physicians, which 
 was fifty dollars extra." 
 
 "When Hawks left here," said his brother, you 
 thought the case a desperate one ; and I am mistaken if 
 you wouldn't have preferred your doctor's bill to the nig- 
 ger." 
 
 " Be that as it may, I would not take two or three 
 such bills to-day for her. Now get her well, and she will 
 bring in New Orleans fifteen hundred, easy." 
 
 '' Provided,'' said Chet, " you could find a fool for a 
 customer; one who had more money than brains.'' 
 
 "Well," said the doctor, "New Orleans has a double 
 portion of such fools." 
 
 " However that may be, her talk about the lost baby 
 shows there is something crooked in this matter. You 
 may get into trouble yet. You know Hawks — not so 
 well as I, perhaps, but well enough to be on your guard. 
 I'll tell you what I'll do; — pay the charges and give you 
 a hundred dollar bill and take my chances." 
 
 "No, Chet, I won't do that : but if you'll make it two 
 hundred it's a bargain, for she would suit your family 
 better than mine." 
 
 So the bargain was struck, and Martha was transferred to 
 Chester Elmore by a bill-of-sale ; and in the course of two 
 weeks was declared well enough to go to Independence, 
 where she was received by Miss Gertrude Elmore as a 
 present from her brother Chester. 
 
 Miss Gertrude was a highly nervous sentimental young- 
 woman, very romantic, and though a spoiled child, had 
 never been indulged in a waiting-maid ; and when 
 " Brother Chet," as she called him, made the announce- 
 
(^S THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 ment that Martha's duties were to wait on her, she was 
 profuse in her thanks, and ordered her servant at once to 
 place flowers upon the mantel-piece, with the air of a 
 young princess. 
 
 Martha entered upon the discharge of her new duties 
 with a heavy heart, for though she had told Dr. Elmore the 
 particulars concerning the loss of her baby, she could give 
 him no names of places, nor form any idea of how far 
 they had travelled. The world had been a blank to her 
 since swooning on the river, when the angry ice flood had 
 risen up and (as she thought) engulfed her child. 
 
 Her new master had bid her abandon the foolish hope 
 inspired by his brother of tracing the child. So, weak 
 from sickness, with a hopeless yearning in her heart, she 
 performed the rounds of duty like an automaton. 
 
 Miss Gertrude was informed of the occurrences of the 
 few preceding weeks and thought it "perfectly horrid " 
 that a human being could be so hard-hearted and cruel ; 
 and she repeated the story to Sally May, her dearest 
 friend and companion. 
 
 "Wouldn't it make a splendid subject for a novel, 
 Sally ? " said Gertrude ; and taking her pen, she wrote the 
 headings of Martha's narrative down as nearly as possi- 
 ble. 
 
CHAPTER XIV. ■ 
 
 The death of Harry Barnes very nearly proved fatal to 
 his mother. He was her adored and only son, and every 
 circumstance attending his last illness was so terrible, so 
 mysterious, that it seemed as if her life, or else her rea- 
 son, must succumb to the blow. She had not even the 
 support of her brother's presence at this awful time, as 
 Dr. Barnes, the day after his nephew had left him, was 
 thrown from his carriage, and for weary months afterwards 
 was laid up with a broken leg. 
 
 Owing to this combination of circumstances, a long time 
 elapsed before the brother and sister met, and he could 
 only administer such consolation and help as could be 
 conveyed in letters. 
 
 At last she yielded to his earnest solicitation to come 
 to Lucaston. He was cut to the heart when he saw the 
 deep lines which suffering had left on her gentle face. 
 Her heart was indeed broken, and he knew not how to 
 comfort her. He tried to talk to her of indifferent things, 
 and lead her mind away from the one absorbing sub- 
 ject. 
 
 " I forgot to inquire," said the doctor, " about Martha ; 
 do you find her useful ? " 
 
 Mrs. Barnes looked at her brother in astonishment, 
 and said: " I know nothing about Martha." 
 
 " Not know ? Did not Harry explain ? " 
 
 His sister looked at him in a bewildered way. "I do 
 not know what you mean," she said. " You know my 
 poor boy never said anything coherent ; there were only 
 strange, disconnected words. But, O William," said 
 she, in an agony of recollection, "they will ring in my 
 ears forever. He was in such distress about something. 
 What was it? What had happened to my poor boy.'" 
 And convulsive sobs shook her frame. 
 
 "There, there, dear Lucy; don't think about it," said 
 her brother, soothingly. 
 
 "But I must think about it; I can never forget it for 
 
70 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 one moment. William," she said, catching her broths 
 er's hand eagerly, "you must help me to find out what it 
 was that killed Harry; for I tell you he was killed" she 
 said, with awful emphasis, " murdered." 
 
 " Did 3'ou find nothing of my letter, with the bill-of- 
 sale to you ? " 
 
 " Bill-of-sale ! " said she, bewildered. " I have had no 
 letter, and do not know what you mean by a bill-of-sale." 
 
 " My God !" said tlie doctor, " what does all this 
 mean ? " 
 
 Dr. Barjies then related all the circumstances attend- 
 ing the sending of Martha and her child with a bill-of- 
 sale to be filled out with his sister's name if she con- 
 sented to take the slave. 
 
 "I remember," said he, "how well Harry was looking 
 when he boarded the steamer. Let me see — was it the 
 'Scott'? I must lose no time in learning from the cap- 
 tain all we can relative to the disappearance of the 
 woman. There is something wrong about the matter, 
 and I shall leave no stone unturned until the mystery is 
 solved." 
 
 At the next trip of the steamer " Scott," Dr. Barnes 
 called at the office and inquired for Captain Swan. The 
 clerk was summoned, and the passenger record, upon 
 careful search showed that, on a certain night of that 
 year, there were transferred from the Clermont to the 
 "Scott" by running alongside, a woman and child and 
 one cabin passenger named Thomas Hawks from New 
 Orleans. 
 
 " I know Hawks well," said Captain Swan. "A bold, 
 vicious man." 
 
 "Yes," said Dr. Barnes, "this man Hawks came to 
 Lucaston with Harry on his last visit, and they took the 
 same boat for Louisville. I will go to New Orleans and 
 search for him. I'll go down with you, Captain Swan, on 
 your return trip, and in the mean time, we will think over 
 the best plan of procedure." 
 
 A few days later. Dr. Barnes stepped on board the 
 steamer " Scott " on her down trip to New Orleans and 
 was welcomed by the captain. 
 
 "Then you have decided to go down and search for 
 Hawks ? " said the latter. 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 7 1 
 
 " Yes, Captain, and I shall need your services if we 
 find him." 
 
 Arrived at New Orleans, both men made diligent 
 inquiry in every quarter that Hawks frequented, but no 
 trace could be found of him. The detectives were put to 
 work, but with no better success, so that after an absence 
 of two weeks. Dr. Barnes returned to Lucaston, disheart- 
 ened, but feeling impelled forward in this search, that 
 must not stop short of success. 
 
CHAPTER XV.. 
 
 Upon Tom Hawks' arrival at New Orleans, lie dis- 
 posed of his slaves to Colonel Ray, one of his old cus- 
 tomers, who said finall}' : 
 
 "Well, Hawks, you have disappointed me in not bring- 
 ing that woman you wrote me of; and from your 
 description, 1 had expected to see something extra nice. 
 How did it happen, anyway ? " 
 
 "Oh, d — nit, I didn't write you anything about the 
 baby she had ; and in getting rid of that, I lost both. 
 After the child had gone, the woman, like a fool, raved, 
 took fever, and I suppose is dead before now." Then 
 Hawks gave his own brutal version of the story of 
 Martha, and how he had disposed of the child and its 
 mother. 
 
 After he had concluded. Colonel Ray remarked rather 
 dryly : 
 
 " I think you acted like a d d fool, in giving away 
 
 both mother and child. Take my advice, now, retrace 
 your steps, and try to recover both." 
 
 "No need of immediate action in regard to the woman. 
 Doctor Elmore is an old acquaintance, and if she's alive, I 
 can reclaim her at a fair price any time. And as for the 
 child, I don't think. Colonel, the game is worth the pow- 
 der." 
 
 "A girl did you say? Take my advice and go back 
 to St. Charles and pick up those dropped stitches in your 
 work, so that you may at least make a finished job of 
 it." 
 
 "You attach too much importance to this matter, Col- 
 onel, but I'll think of it. Now, let's have something to 
 drink," and the two men strolled away to the spacious 
 and elegant bar-room of the St, Charles Hotel. 
 
 Hawks had been drinking very heavily ever since 
 Harry Barnes' death, and now celebrated his meeting 
 with Ray with double quantity in his potations. His 
 tongue began to feel the loosening effects of the stimulants. 
 
THE STORMY TETREr,. 73 
 
 " By G — d ! " he said, '" Ray, that was the sharpest 
 game I've played yet." And then he gave his friend the 
 particulars of the whole transaction on board the 
 " Clermont." 
 
 Ray's face grew dark as he listenetl. " Hawks," 
 said he, at last, "\ou must take care; you are talking 
 very imprudently, and if you have done all } ou say. why, 
 I advise you to skip." 
 
 Hawks was sobered in a moment. " \\'hat do }ou 
 n)ean .-'" said he. 
 
 "Why, just this: Now, — suppose inquiry was made 
 for the woman and child ; they are known to have been 
 on the steamer in the custody of your friend Barnes and 
 yourself. He returns home in delirium: dies, I think 
 you said, without recovering consciousness. Suspicion 
 of foul play will rest on you, to whom they can be traced, 
 and an ugly trial may ensue." 
 
 " But, d — n it, Ray, you must remember the bill-of- 
 sale is regularly executed, and if Harry Barnes saw fit to 
 gamble, lose, and I win them, there is nothing wrong, or 
 at least criminal in that." 
 
 " But the transfer is illegal if the owners chose to 
 question the transaction; besides, the drug you used will 
 leave a trace, that is, if search were made. To be sure, 
 I understand that in moderate quantities there is no 
 danger, yet in larger doses, it is attended with fatal 
 results ; and how do you know that an overdose was not 
 administered.' I also notice that your name and the 
 amount here are filled in with a different handwriting, ' 
 and he pointed to the paper Hawks held in his hand. 
 " No, by Jove, if it isn't your own hand ! Why, man, what 
 are you thinking of? That, in connection with Harry 
 Barnes' suspicious death, would make an ugly case for 
 you." 
 
 Hawks sat with lips compressed, silent for a moment. 
 Then he said, angrily : '" Look here, we've had enough 
 of this now. In the tirst place, Barnes wrote there what 
 you ascribe to me, and you convict me of murder and 
 theft by your suppositions." 
 
 "No, no, Hawks; 1 am not trying to convict you of 
 anything; I only want you to see the thing in its true 
 light. Of course inquiries will be made about this 
 woman and child. They can easily be traced to you. 
 
74 THE STORMY PETRET,. 
 
 Coupled with Barnes" death, it has an unpleasant look to 
 me, and my motive is to have you see it in its true light. 
 I'm your friend, old fellow," said he, putting his hand 
 on Hawks' arm. " You may count on me every time." 
 
 " Well, what would you do ? " asked Hawks, quite 
 humbled and subdued. 
 
 " Well, I'll tell you what I'd do : I'd keep bhady in 
 these parts while you must be here ; put on a planter's 
 disguise, go to Missouri and get trace of the woman and 
 baby, and you may also get information of your own case, 
 for you will certainly be searched for here." 
 
 "'Well, I'll think of it," said Hawks, indifferently. 
 But he had secretly resolved he would do it, and from 
 that night, the haunts he was wont to frequent knew him 
 no more for a long time. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 "Kansas City, Mo., May 15, 185-. 
 
 " My Dear Kate : 
 
 "Anticipating your surprise at the above, I will try 
 to tell you briefly how it is that I am here. 
 
 " While visiting my Colonists, a few weeks ago, Sam, 
 whom, of course, you remember, was kidnapped in open 
 day, by some ruffians, and forcibly carried away. I was 
 able to trace them as far as Booneville, where I learned 
 the poor fellow had been sold to a gentleman owning 
 a large stock-farm. Of course misleading clues were 
 plentifully scattered upon the trail by the miscreants, so 
 that I lost much time in my pursuit ; but, through the 
 aid of an extraordinarily clever fellow it has been my 
 good fortune to meet and imj^ress into my service, I 
 think we are now on the right road and not far from the 
 object of our search, that the gentleman who purchased 
 him is, in fact, a resident of Missouri, and, through the 
 aid of Mr. Duvall, I hope soon to find him. What we 
 are to do then, I cannot yet see very clearly, as I suppose 
 there is no place on this planet where justice is so diffi- 
 cult to obtain to-day as in this perturbed border State. 
 It would be impossible to imagine a more strangely 
 disordered condition of society than exists here now. 
 
 " Colonel Gordon, a Southern gentleman of swelling pre- 
 tensions, who is here on a singular and questionable mis- 
 sion, has taken me under his distinguished protection 
 because of my Kentucky birth, forsooth ! In fact, but for 
 his intervention, I doubt if his followers would have per- 
 mitted Duvall and me to land at all. It is surprising 
 that a gentleman, such as he unquestionably is, can 
 have gathered about him such a band of miscreants as 
 the fellows who actually took possession of the steamer 
 on which I came to this city. They inspected the bag- 
 gage, and if they found arms in the possession of North- 
 erners, they were confiscated, and the owners told they 
 
76 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 would be shot if they attempted to land on Kansas soil. 
 The method of inspection was, to say the least, original. 
 After being saturated with bad whiskey, they fired pistols 
 in,to suspicious packages, then broke them open, and 
 threw their contents into the river, or appropriated them 
 as suited them. Colonel Gordon, when appealed to, 
 frankly confessed his inability to hold in check the pande- 
 monium he had invoked, which was about at its height 
 when we approached Kansas City, and Captain Jim, Col- 
 onel Gordon's lieutenant, ordered four men with revolvers 
 to stand at the gang-plank, and prevent any one from 
 landing who was not vouched for by himself, 
 
 " You may imagine that Duvall and I were challenged, 
 and I cannot tell how it might have ended had not 
 Colonel Gordon interposed; and after a whispered 
 conference we were permitted to pass with our luggage. 
 For the sake of the success of my own mission here, 
 I submit to this 'protection,' and have not let the 
 colonel find out what a political renegade I am, from 
 his standpoint, nor in what contempt and loathing I 
 hold the methods he and his band of followers are 
 using to capture this territory of Kansas for their iniqui- 
 tous system. 
 
 " Duvall has to hold me in check all the time to prevent 
 me from, exploding with wrath and indignation ; and 
 nothing but the thought of poor Sam restrains me. But 
 this matter once settled, I shall soon tear off my mask, 
 and cast my lot where my inclinations and my convic- 
 tions lead me. 
 
 " I have met a singular and most impressive man, — a 
 man with a mingled suggestion of priest, prophet and 
 king. If these were heroic times, I should expect him 
 to fill a great rblc\ but the age is prosaic, as is his name, 
 — John Brown. Yes, I confess it is not easy to invest 
 that name with sublimity. 
 
 " I must not forget to tell you something about my friend 
 Claude Duvall, to whom I have so frequently alluded. 
 He is a foreigner, Italian, but thoroughly at home and 
 conversant with things in America. He is accomplished, 
 brilliant, versatile, vivacious, with wonderful charm of 
 manner and person, and better than all, with a heart 
 ardent as a child's, I think he is especially delightful to 
 me because he possesses all the qualities I lack ; and I am 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 77 
 
 most fortunate in having so sympathetic and congenial a 
 friend and co-operator in this search. Although the soul 
 of truth, his tact, skill, feriilit}^ in resource are unfailing. 
 He does not carry his heart upon his sleeve; has, in fact, 
 a talent for diplomacy, which, perhaps you remember, is 
 7iot my forte. He S3inpathizes with my feeling about 
 human freedom and such kindred subjects, but naturally 
 does not take it so much to heart as I do, and, I think, 
 perhaps, is more impelled by a feeling personal to me 
 than by any sentiment more abstract. 
 
 "Regarding himself, he is reticent; so that I do not 
 understand at all his mission in America, nor why he has 
 been willing to follow my fortunes (or rather misfortunes) 
 during all these past four years. Chance threw us 
 together shortly after that strange and still unexplained 
 incident, the finding of Petrel. He has shown great 
 adroitness in his efforts to unearth the myster}', and is 
 much chagrined that he has not yet been successful ; and 
 we are as far as ever from knowing the fate of the 
 woman, presumably her mother. It is a strange story — 
 but, in the mean time, the little girl is happy and well 
 cared for at the Colony, which seems the best place for 
 her at present. 
 
 "Will you present my compliments to the fair Kttle maid 
 who bears your name, and who, I hope, will inherit at 
 least a portion of her mother's virtues ? I havfe not yet 
 become accustomed to thinking of you in this new role, 
 my sweet cousin ; but I am sure you fill it, as you have all 
 others, with rare perfection. At least, such is the belief 
 of 
 
 "Your admiring and very affectionate cousin, 
 
 " Frank." 
 
 Frank was not mistaken. He was near the object of 
 his search. A camp-meeting was held at Big Springs 
 Camp Ground, and, knowing the custom of Southern peo- 
 ple to carry their servants to these meetings, and the habits 
 of the slaves on Sunday to congregate in large numbers 
 about the grounds, he suggested to Duvall that they 
 should ride over there from Kansas City. 
 
 In strolling about, they came upon a group of three 
 persons conversing, in a small grove, some distance from 
 the central grounds. Clayton felt strongly impressed 
 
78 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 by the vicious-looking trio, and was observing them 
 closely when Duvall said, 
 
 " Did you notice the old negro the young men were 
 talking to there ? He sits bowed over, with his head on 
 his hands." 
 
 After the men left him, Clayton approached the bowed 
 figure, and said, 
 
 " Are you sick, old man ? " 
 
 The man sprung up as if struck by an electric shock. 
 
 " Bless de Lor' ! Dat bin Mars Frank's voice. Whar 
 is yer, Mars Frank, whar is yer ? Let dese eyes behol' 
 yer once mo' ! " And, standing almost as tall as his young 
 master, he grasped the extended hand of Cla^'lon and cov- 
 ered it with kisses. At the same time falling on his 
 knees, he bowed his head to the very earth, saying, 
 " Tank de Lor' ! Tank de Lor' ! He done foun' dis 
 poor slave to libber him outer bondage." 
 
 Clayton, who was nearly as much moved as his old 
 slave, lifted him up, and said soothingly : 
 
 "Come, come, Sam, rise up. I am glad at last to find 
 you, as I have sought you faithfully for months." 
 
 " Dar, Mars Frank, I knowed you was a lookin' in 
 ebery hole and corner for dis ole nigger; dat war de 
 star ob hope I hung onto when eberyting else looked 
 dark. I jis said to mysef, 'Mars Frank he knowed dese 
 foxes what steals niggers, an' he's gwineter foller der 
 tracks." 
 
 " Tell me, Sam, how you came here, and whom you are 
 living with ? " 
 
 Clayton learned from his old servant that he had 
 been bought by a man named Skinner, living near Big 
 Springs -in Missouri. Sam told the story of his being kid- 
 napped at the Landing, and being knocked down and 
 taken into a boat by four men, one of whom seemed to 
 be the leader, and was Sam Sly, of Lucaston. He had 
 mistaken Sam for Uncle Ned. 
 
 "Yes," said Clayton. "He and Sparks consider them- 
 selves revenged now. But this is not ended yet ; they 
 will hear from me again." 
 
 Clayton had seated himself upon the rustic bencli 
 beside his old servant, but Duvall's 'quick eye detected 
 danger in a sinister-looking man who was watching them. 
 
 " Dat is young Mars Skinner hissef," said Sam. 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 79 
 
 Clayton gave a parting injunction to Sam to keep quiet 
 about their meeting, and if questioned, to say only that 
 he was an old acquaintance. 
 
 Poor Sam's face fell in disappointment, as he saw his 
 master leave him. 
 
 " Dar now, de sun done set again. Does seem as do 
 Mars Frank oughter took Sam 'long wid him," But he 
 rightly suspected that he would not be deserted by him. 
 
 After arriving at home that night, Sam was questioned 
 by his new master as to whom he was talking with so 
 earnestly down near the Springs. 
 
 " Dat was Mars Clayton. He comes from de same 
 part ob ole Kaintuck what Sam did. Brass yer life, 
 Mars William, 'twcJuld do yer eyes good ter see dem 
 folks what lib in ole Kaintucky! " 
 
 " Well, never mind about that, now, Sam ; I am going 
 to my claim in Kansas to-morrow, and I want my horse 
 in readiness early, as Mr. Livingstone and Bill Hart are 
 going also. Look to my pistols and shot-gun. I notice 
 they're rusting. Is there one of the loose horses up 
 from the pasture, Sam ? "' 
 
 "Yes, sah, dar's Charley and Wil' Injin. " 
 
 " Well, you see that both horses are fed early, and 
 taken good care of." 
 
 "Yes, sah, I'se gwinter do dat." 
 
 Sam stood looking after his master, and saying to him- 
 self : 
 
 " I hope Mars William's not gwinter ax me to go out 
 dar to dat dar place what he call 'claim' whar dey all 
 meets ter drink whiskey and kill ablition yankees. I 
 done had 'nough ob dat ; an' I wants ter see what Mars 
 P'rank gwinter do ter take Sam back." 
 
 " Sam," said William Skinner, on the following morn- 
 ing, while inspecting his pistol, " I want you to saddle 
 Charley and go with me out to the claim directly after 
 breakfast. You need not say where you are going. 
 Mend that girth to my saddle, and see that my bridle is 
 all right, for I'm not ready to go to heaven by a somer- 
 sault over Wild Indian's head." 
 
 Sam's worst fears were now being confirmed ; and it 
 was with a heavy heart that he completed the preparation. 
 
 " I doe like ter know, Sam, what makes yo face so much 
 longer dan usual dis mawniu' ? " inquired the old cook, 
 
8o THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 as Sam's appetite, hitherto excellent, seemed entirely to 
 fail him at breakfast. He had previously told Aunt 
 Hannah his story, and now an idea occurred to him that 
 she would be sure to see any one who came to see the 
 }0ung master on business. So he confided to her his 
 meeting his former master and friend at camp-meeting 
 the day before, and his belief that an effort was to be 
 made to recover his liberty. He described his young 
 master; and told her if he should come to the house, she 
 was to tell him privately where Sam had gone, and 
 where young Skinner's claim was located. 
 
 In the afternoon, three gentlemen rode up to the house 
 of Mr. Skinner, dismounted and walked in. Aunt Han- 
 nah was on the lookout, and recognized Clayton at a 
 glance. As they were about to enter, she said to him : 
 
 " Young Mars looks as do he's tired, an' like he wants 
 dis good drink ob nice cool water," holding it toward him 
 from the bucket. He stepped to where she was, and as 
 he took the gourd she told him in an undertone, where 
 Sam had been taken and how he could reach the 
 claim. 
 
 On inquiring of the elder Skinner, he could give no in- 
 formation of his son Bill's movements. He might be at 
 Independence, or down to the camp-meeting. Skinner 
 recognized the officer with Clayton, and said : 
 
 "I hope Bill hasn't been getting into trouble down at 
 the Springs? " 
 
 "Oh, no," said D^ivall, "our business can wait until he 
 returns," and they took their leave. 
 
 Skinner, attended by Sam, and accompanied by two 
 visiting friends. Hart and Livingstone, started for the 
 claim or settlement. He related to them what he had 
 seen at the camp-meeting; and ended by saying that as 
 a precautionary measure, he was bringing Sam where no 
 legal process could reach him. 
 
 " He would have to make a mighty strong case out 
 there to get his man," said Hart, significantly pointing to 
 the revolver. " He would have to beat, not only two 
 ' pairs,' but three of them ; eh, Tom ? " 
 
 " Damn the law ! " said Livingstone, " There oughtn't 
 to be any law. The weak are made to serve the strong in 
 the same manner that the little fish serve the big ones. 
 
THE STORMY PETREL, 8 1 
 
 the bugs the birds, the birds the hawks, and they in turn 
 serve us. I'd like to keep outside the law "and its 
 restraints." 
 
 Thus the trio chatted during their ride, keeping Sam at 
 a safe distance in their rear. 
 
 After leaving the house of Mr. Skinner, the officer said, 
 " Mr. Clayton, my functions end at the state line of Mis- 
 souri. Any time you come within this jurisdiction, I'll 
 serve the process, or a new one, if this expires." 
 
 " I must find the man," said Clayton, "and trust to cir- 
 cumstances to get him within jurisdiction of the law. I 
 will ,ask that this matter have as little notoriety as 
 possible." 
 
 So they separated, the officer going to Independence 
 and Clayton to Kansas City. He now felt assured that 
 young Skinner knew or suspected Sam's status, and in 
 that lay his danger. 
 
 After consultation, it was decided that Clayton and 
 Duvall should each buy a butternut disguise and an outfit 
 for camp life or "taking a claim," and follow, as nearly 
 as possible, the fortunes of Sam, led as h^was, by the trio 
 of reckless men. Skinner, Bill Hart and Livingstone. 
 
 The following day they left Kansas City with a covered 
 wagon, two good horses attached, a negro driver, and each 
 mounted, armed and equipped in appropriate style. 
 
 A week later found them located on a high plateau of 
 ground near the now thriving city of Lawrence, overlook- 
 ing the valley of the Waurarusa and the Kansas River for 
 some miles away to the south and to the east, and about 
 ten miles from Lecompton, near which was then Camp 
 Gordon, in honor of our steamboat acquaintance. Colonel 
 Gordon. 
 
 To this latter point had Clayton traced William Skin- 
 ner and his companions with Sam. The staking off of 
 their claims was done in the usual way, which was only a 
 loose formality; for very few of the men who came from 
 Missouri ever expected to return to these claims after the 
 vexed question of slavery in Kansas was settled under 
 squatter sovereignty. 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 The election which was to be held in November, 185-, 
 was an important event not only in Kansas and Missouri, 
 but for the whole country, North and South, East and 
 West, being interested ; for it was not only to select a 
 Territorial legislature and local officers, but to determine 
 directly the question of slavery or freedom on the soil 
 now neutral. 
 
 If slavery, by such means as we have seen at Kansas 
 City and Camp Gordon, can extend and occupy Kansas, 
 then Nebraska, Minnesota, and the western territories 
 would be an easy prey. 
 
 In great contrast to those at Camp Gordon were the 
 settlements at Lawrence, Topeka, and other points in that 
 section. In these latter places were seen women and 
 children, cattle, farming implements, and all the parapher- 
 nalia pertaining to agricultural life, none of which were 
 noticeable in the other settlements. Most of the settlers 
 were Northern or Eastern people, as distinctly sectional 
 and as outspoken against slavery as the others were its 
 advocates, but with much more of the permanency of 
 citizenship, which gave the right of voice in controlling the 
 question. 
 
 A few days later there rode up to the rude shanty 
 Clayton and his companions had erected, five men, and, 
 without ceremony or parley, the leader proceeded to 
 inform the gentlemen that there now remained but a 
 few days before the election and it had been determined 
 to make quick work in driving away from the settlement, 
 any and every man who was going to vote against the 
 institution of slavery in Kansas, and all must come for- 
 ward and bear a part, as there was considerable terri- 
 tory to be visited. 
 
 " We are expected," he said, " to clean out two d d 
 
 Yankee settlements just below, and ail will be needed, 
 for they have already defied the written notice served 
 several days ago." 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 8;^ 
 
 Clayton arose from his seat, evidently to enter his 
 indignant protest, when Claude said : 
 
 " Allow nie to speak first. I intend to vote for Kansas 
 to be a slave State. I shall vote in good faith. I am a 
 Southern man, in favor of extending the institution, but 
 not by such means." 
 
 " You then decline to join us in j^reventing these 
 Yankee paupers from stealing Kansas .'' " said Livingstone, 
 fiercely. 
 
 "Yes," said Clayton, stepping forward, "we most 
 respectfull}' decline to engnge in this business, either 
 before or at the elections, as 1 understand the game is to 
 prevent any one from voting who will not vote your 
 ticket." 
 
 " Sir," said Livingstone, eying him with ill-suppressed 
 rage, " I hope you mean no disrespect in referring to this 
 matter with such accent on 'game.' " 
 
 " Nothing more, sir, than to call things by their right 
 names." 
 
 "Oh, sir, we understand each other. I expected noth- 
 ing more of you, but we are disappointed in your com- 
 panion. Now we would not be surpiised to find you in 
 the Yankee camp when the conflict comes, as it seems 
 likely to." 
 
 "They are our neighbors here, and we would be 
 hardly deserving the name if we should refuse to help 
 them defend their homes against such a wanton outrage 
 as you propose. Yes, I think you may calculate on find 
 ing us standing shoulder to shoulder with them in 
 defence of our common rights as American citizens." 
 
 " I have a damn big notion to take you prisoners to 
 Colonel Gordon, and thus prevent you from going to the 
 enemy." 
 
 "It might be well to count the cost before you under- 
 take such a task, sir." And at the same time Clayton 
 imitated Claude in buckling on his revolvers and picking 
 up his rifle. Both had observed Livingstone nod to his 
 men, who turned their horses and came to his side. 
 
 "Now, gentlemen," said Livingstone, "you can see the 
 utter folly of two of you contending against five of us. I 
 have onlv to say the word and you either surrender or 
 die." 
 
 Clayton and Claude, as if with one thought, sprang 
 
84 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 inside the log cabin and barred the door. Then, thrust- 
 ing the muzzles of their rifles out of the cracks, they 
 said : 
 
 " Give the order, and take the consequences ! " 
 
 " Hold on ! " yelled Livingstone, dumfounded by the 
 unexpected turn affairs had taken ; and with a sickly 
 smile, which was meant to be conciliatory, he added, 
 " 1 was only joking with you and trying a little bluff. 
 Come, come, let us talk the thing over in a friendly 
 spirit. Open your liospitable doors and come out." 
 
 Clayton said, " Now, sir, you and your squad have just 
 five minutes to get out of range of these Sharp's 
 rifles." 
 
 *' I be dogone if 'tain't one of 'em, Cap'n. Yes, Cap'n, 
 it's one of them damnation ' Beecher Bibles,' sure as 
 fallin' off a log. We'd better git," said two of the men, 
 almost in the same voice ; and, without waiting for fur- 
 ther orders, both of them wheeled their horses, and were 
 soon out of sight. 
 
 Clayton now unfastened the door, and stepped out, say- 
 ing : 
 
 " Our numbers are more equal now. I guess we don't 
 need the blockhouse." At the same time taking out his 
 watch, he continued: "You have only two minutes of 
 your allotted five in which to get out of range of this 
 rifle." 
 
 " You don't mean to execute that threat made in 
 anger ? " 
 
 " If you are not out of sight within five minutes, you 
 will find we did mean it," said Clayton, with an unmistak- 
 able determination in his eye. 
 
 The two men who had stood by Livingstone, like their 
 companions, put spurs to their horses, while Livingstone 
 moved off sullenly, swearing loudly for revenge. 
 
 " Now," said Clayton to his servant, " bring my horse 
 quickly ! " And turning to his friend, " You get ever\'- 
 thing in readiness to move down to Lawrence. This 
 is no safe place for us over-night. Livingstone had mur- 
 der in his eye when he left here. I am going to ride up 
 to the trail on the bluff, and see where those fellows 
 are." 
 
 Two hours later, when he returned, the wagon was 
 loaded with everything, in readiness to move. Clayton 
 
THE STOR^rV PETREL. 85 
 
 and his companion mounted their horses, and were 
 followed by the wagon. 
 
 "I am really attached to this spot," said Clayton, 
 "and I intend to have that claim, which was only staked 
 off as a matter of form, to be my abiding-place. Our 
 reception of Gordon's men now cuts us off from Sam and 
 any means of information of his master's movements. 
 That is my chief regret." 
 
 Clayton and Duvall soon reached the little settlement 
 of Lawrence, on the bank of the Kansas River. 
 
 They rode into the town, dismounted, and as their 
 team drove up, several of the settlers crowded curiously 
 about them. 
 
 A large man, w'ith piercing, deep-set eyes, severe brow 
 and commanding presence, approached them. 
 
 '• I hope you are not leaving us, Mr. Clayton ? " said he, 
 extending his hand to Frank. 
 
 " No, indeed, Mr. Brown," replied Frank, flushing with 
 gratification at the warmth of this welcome ; " no, indeed ; 
 so far from that, I have come to stay with you, if you will 
 permit." 
 
 The large hand grasped his with a stronger pressure. 
 " You are most welcome, sir; it is such men as you that 
 we want here." 
 
 " Well," said Frank, laughing, " they were not espe- 
 cially desirous of keeping us at the place we came from, 
 so we are here to cast in our lot with the people in Law- 
 rence." 
 
 In the few hours that followed, Frank found a willing 
 and deeply interested listener in Mr. Brown, as he 
 recounted to him all the circumstances which had led up 
 to the manumission of his slaves, their successful coloni- 
 zation in Illinois, the kidnapping of Sam, and subsequent 
 search for him, ending with the adventure of the day 
 with Livingstone and his band. 
 
 All these things were vividly told by the narrator and 
 listened to with rapt, eager interest by his visitor. 
 
 The old man looked in silence at Frank for a few 
 moments, after he had finished, and then said : " It is 
 strange, we see sometimes a man like you come out cA 
 such unnatural surroundings. How do you suppose ycui 
 came by all these splended impulses.'' I will tell you." 
 said he, answering his own question, in impressive tone, 
 
86 THE STORMY PETREL, 
 
 " they are God dwelling in you. It is a good thing to 
 have freed your shives ; you have done well ; but," he 
 added, with a sigh, " that is not the way this thing is to 
 be done. That is not the way," he added, musingly — and 
 then, with sudden fervor : " It will require a convulsion 
 — a convulsion, I tell you," said he, with suppressed pas- 
 sion in his voice, "to rid us of this iniquity. But it is 
 working : the leaven is working." 
 
 Frank looked with a kind of fascination upon the strange 
 light in the face before him. They walked together out 
 under the stars ; although it was midnight, he was reluc- 
 tant to part from his new friend. As his eye swept the 
 horizon, in the direction of his " claim," he saw something 
 which startled him. 
 
 A light ! It increased, wavered, then grew brighter 
 and brighter. "The scoundrels! " he exclaimed. "Mr. 
 Brown, look there ! see, they are burning my cabin, just as 
 I expected," said he, with a grim laugh. " I knew they 
 would come back to-night for revenge, and finding we 
 have gone, they wreak their vengeance on the cabin." 
 
 He was not mistaken. In the morning, when Clayton 
 rode over to the claim, he found nothing but a pile of 
 ashes to distinguish the spot where the friendly shelter 
 from the storm and savage violence had stood on the pre- 
 vious day. Posted on a board, driven in the ground 
 near by, were these w^ords, written in a bold hand : 
 
 " So WE TREAT ALL TRAITORS TO THE SoUTH." 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 In a few days followed the election — and to attempt a 
 description of the disgraceful scenes which were enacted 
 would be a difficult task. 
 
 The ruffians inarched from poll to poll and paraded 
 around, firing pistols, and voting as often as they could 
 think of a name under which to cast a ballot, and in many 
 cases, openly putting in two or three tickets in utter dis- 
 regard of law. 
 
 A protest was an invitation to be shot ; and few in- 
 dulged in the expensive luxury. 
 
 The election over, and the result announced, thousands 
 of those who came only to vote returned to their old 
 homes in Missouri. Among the number were our friends 
 from Camp Gordon, Livingstone, Hart and Skinner. 
 
 Claude Duvall and Clayton followed closely on the 
 heels ot the returning party, and when they reached Kan- 
 sas City, a new process was issued and served on Mr. 
 Skinner, calling on him to bring his servant Sam into 
 court and show title. 
 
 On the day of the trial, Livingstone and Hart were 
 seen in earnest conversation near the door of the court- 
 room. Hart was evidently protesting against his friend's 
 
 threat to lynch Clayton as " a d d traitor to the 
 
 South and the meanest kind of abolitionist." 
 
 " Even if the justice holds that the nigger is a free man 
 and that Jim's bill-of-sale is not valid," said Hart, " wc 
 can take him from the officers and shove him out in Kan- 
 sas, where no process from court will have any effect. No 
 need to be in a hurry. Let us hear the case and act 
 afterwards." 
 
 So he prevailed, and when the case was called, Sam 
 was brought in, accompanied by Wm. Skinner, who pro- 
 duced a regular bill-of-sale, signed by Samuel Sly for the 
 valuable consideration of $700. 
 
 "Now, Mr. Skinner, have you any witnesses to lliis pur- 
 chase and bill of sale ?'" demanded the Court, 
 
88 THE STORMY PETREL, 
 
 "I have, your honor. Mr. Livingstone here was with 
 me on the day of purchase, and heard the representation 
 of Sly and his neighbor, Mr. Smith, as to the ownership of 
 this man ; and to the fact that he had been recently cap- 
 tured in an effort to escape from him and was sold for no 
 other fault." 
 
 Livingstone's testimony corroborated Skinner. Clay- 
 ton was asked if he had any further testimony to offer 
 other than was set forth in his alilidavit, on which the proc- 
 ess was issued. 
 
 "I have, your honor, a witness whom I should like 
 sworn." 
 
 When the oath was administered to Claude Duvall, the 
 justice asked : 
 
 '* Do you know this man Sam ? " 
 
 " Only since I saw him some weeks ago in the service 
 of Mr. Skinner." 
 
 " How did you come to know him ? "' 
 
 " I was employed by Mr. Clayton to aid him in recov- 
 ering a negro who he said had been kidnapped and we 
 have been on the trail some months." 
 
 " So you do not know whether this is a slave or a free 
 man?" 
 
 " I do not." 
 
 " Where do you live ?" 
 
 '■ St. Louis, Missouri." 
 
 " Have you known Mr. Clayton long ? " 
 
 " Only since employed in this case, except a casual 
 meeting some time before." 
 
 " Mr. Clayton, would you like to question the witness 
 further ? " asked the justice. 
 
 " I would like, your honor, to ask if he was present 
 when I found Sam at Big Springs ? " 
 
 " Yes, your honor, and I should judge by the manner of 
 the nigger that they were in the relation of master and 
 slave." 
 
 "There! you simply judge this man belongs to Mr. 
 Clayton. You know nothing about it absolutely," roared 
 Livingstone. " I object to the witness answering the ques- 
 tion, your honor. 'Fhis is an unwarrantable interference 
 of an outside party." 
 
 " The v.itness need not answer the question." 
 
 Clavton himself was then sworn, He testified to having 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 89 
 
 known the man since his boyhood, and that he had inher- 
 ited him from his grandfather Lucas' estate, and was abso- 
 lutel}^ sure this was the same man so inherited and removed 
 from Kentucky to Illinois, from which place he was kid- 
 napped. 
 
 During" this time, there was a whispered conversation 
 between the trio and Claude in one corner of the court- 
 room. Then Mr. Skinner stepped forward, and said : 
 
 '• Your honor, I would like to ask the witness a few 
 questions before he leaves the stand. I wish to know if 
 he claims this man as his slave, or as merely held illegallv 
 as a slave by myself as set forth in his affidavit ? " 
 
 " Oh, of course, as a slave," answered the Court. 
 
 Skinner remarked : " I would like to have the witness 
 answer the question.'' 
 
 " I claim as set forth in my affidavit, that he is illegally 
 held as a slave by Mr. Skinner ; and as his friend and 
 attorney, I demand his release." 
 
 " Then this man is not your slave ? " 
 
 " He is not." 
 
 " Is he a slave at all ? " 
 
 " He is, in law and equity, a free man, kidnapped from 
 '.lis home and family, and as his friend and former master, 
 I demand his release." 
 
 " Has he his free papers, Mr. Clavton ?" 
 
 " I have them here, sir,"' taking from his pocket Sam's 
 manumission papers; "there they are, for your honor's 
 inspection." 
 
 While the justice was examining the papers, a further 
 whispered conference ensued between Skinner and 
 Duvall, and Skinner said aloud : 
 
 "The man cannot be set at liberty as a freeman in this 
 State without iirst giving a good and satisfactory bond in 
 the sum of two thousand dollars for his good behavior. 
 Am I not right, your honor ? " 
 
 " Such is the law," answered the justice. 
 
 " I think we will have no trouble in giving any bond 
 your honor may exact," responded Clavton. 
 
 " We will see about that," answered Livingstone, with a 
 hiss like a viper. 
 
 "We will/' said Clayton, turning upon him with a look 
 of defiance. 
 
 Sam had been anxiously watching the proceedings from 
 
90 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 the corner where he sat, and judging from the pallid face 
 and earnest manner of his young master that the case was 
 going against him, could restrain liimself no longer, as he 
 burst out with great feeling : 
 
 " Bless de Lor', massa jedge might jis so well say Sam 
 don' know he head nor his own han's as ter say dat Mars 
 Frank dar don't know and own dis nigger. Ebber since he 
 was little pickaninny, I done bin call him Mars Frank, long 
 afore Mars Lucas or Miss Fannie died." 
 
 During the delivery of this speech, the Court had ordered 
 silence. Clayton told him to sit down ; that he was not 
 allowed to say anything. The judge ordered the bailiff to 
 " silence that nigger," and Clayton had gone over to com- 
 pel obedience, when Livingstone strode forward and in a 
 threatening manner, said : 
 
 " I'll silence the d — n scoundrel." 
 
 " No, you'll not,"' said Clayton, interposing to stop the 
 mad bull. " The officer of the court will do that without 
 your assistance." And the two men glared at each other, 
 as if each were taking the full measure of his adversary. 
 
 "Order in court," shouted the bailiff, as he forced Sam 
 to sit down ; and, stepping between the two angry men, he 
 said : 
 
 " Be seated, gentlemen." 
 
 " Is there any further testimony to be offered in the 
 case ? " inquired the justice. 
 
 " None," answered the plaintiff" and defendant alike. 
 
 " Then the Court will render judgment. The testi- 
 mony is conflicting as to ownership of Mr. Skinner, 
 and in opposition to his bill-of-sale, is offered in evidence 
 the free papers of this man, and his discharge is asked on 
 tiie ground that he is a free man by virtue of such manu- 
 mission. If we admit the genuineness of the papers, 
 the Court could not release tliis man in absence of the 
 required bond." 
 
 " That bond we stand prepared to give, whatever the 
 amount or conditions," responded Clayton." 
 
 •• I believe, if your honor will permit, the law requires 
 two or more property-holders in the county where such 
 manumitted slave shall reside, to be bound each in 
 double the penal sum of the bond,'' interposed Skinner. 
 
 '•We can meet that objection," said Clayton, "by 
 depositing the money in the hands of the Court." 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 9I 
 
 "That does not meet the requirements of the law. 
 Two property-holders who shall reside in the county 
 where the nigger lives," persisted Skinner. 
 
 " Then," continued Clayton, " we will deposit the 
 money with some propertj'-holders who can go on the 
 bond." 
 
 " Yes," put in Livingstone, " ' can go on the bond.' 
 I'd smile to see any man in this county go on that bond. 
 Not much, Mr. Clayton. You can't give that bond 
 here." 
 
 Clayton stood speechless, as the Court continued : 
 
 " Gentlemen, the case does not turn altogether on the 
 validity of a bond. The preponderance of evidence is 
 in favor of the bill-of-sale ; and in view of this fact, and, 
 as I take it, the impossibility to give the bond as required 
 by law, judgment is rendered in favor of the defendant." 
 
 The case was lost. "What else could I have ex- 
 pected ? " Clayton was saying to himself, as he left the 
 court-room, trying not to see the vulgar jeers and laugh- 
 ter of the three victors, nor, what hurt him most of all, 
 the disappointment and distress of Sarn. 
 
 Clayton returned the following day to Lawrence. 
 There he was a witness to the farce of the installation of 
 ofificers recently elected, who, in many cases, were abso- 
 lutely residents of Missouri ; and to the meeting of the 
 'J'erritorial legislature, composed of the same class of peo- 
 ple. 
 
 Sam went back to slavery with a heavy heart after the 
 trial, when he thought himself under the double protec- 
 tion of his young master and the law. There was one 
 hope left him, and to this he clung with all the tenacity 
 of a drowning man, and that was he knew " Mars Frank 
 neber would quit tryin' ter get Sam outer der clutches ob 
 dese heah nigger-stealin' white trash till de day of judg- 
 ment done come, suah nuff." 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 The flowers had blossomed five successive summers 
 upon poor Harry Barnes' grave. And since that in- 
 terview with his comrade and patron, Colonel Ray, Hawks 
 had been seen no more by his friends. The sad episode 
 had ceased to be talked about. Dr. Barnes had appar- 
 ently relinquished his purpose of unearthing the mystery 
 of his nephew's death, and time seemed to have covered 
 this with the decent mantle she spreads over so many 
 other unsightly things. 
 
 Hawks believed he might now safely emerge from his 
 long retirement (or perhaps it was exile) ; and one bright 
 May morning there appeared in the little town of St. 
 Charles a sedate-looking, dark-complexioned gentleman, 
 with a broad-brimmed hat and a closely buttoned coat, 
 which left one in doubt as to whether he were planter or 
 Quaker. 
 
 It will be interesting to read the thoughts which were 
 at work under that broad-brimmed hat, and the purposes 
 in the heart buttoned so respectably under that drab 
 coat. This gentleman was saying to himself, " Five 
 years is a good while, and people are not likely to busy 
 themselves about all that now. It'll be a mighty nice 
 
 thing to get hold o' that kid. I was a fool to throw 
 
 her away, and I managed the whole business like a 
 
 fool. Kinder lost my head for once in my life. But I'll 
 catch up with 'em yet. This old boy hasn't been thinkin' 
 and thinkin' this five years for nothin'. I'll find 'em both, 
 sure's my name's Tom Hawks." 
 
 Such were the unpleasant thoughts of the respectable 
 stranger as he wandered carelessly down by the river- 
 side, and entered into conversation with whomsoever 
 chance threw in his path. 
 
 One man in answer to his question, said : 
 
 " Why, yas ; I do remember hearin' my old friend Si 
 Jones tellin' i,uthin' like that happenin' to him. 'Twas in 
 his own boat not fur from where we now are. How he 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 93 
 
 did CUSS that trader, though ! I hearn him tell as how 
 he was nigh to knockin' him overboard when the wench 
 screamed and fell down in a faint as her bab3'was throw'd 
 on shore." 
 
 " Do you know where Si Jones is ? " queried Hawks, 
 as he saw the old fisherman shifting his quid of tobacco 
 for a fresh start. 
 
 " Well, stranger, there an't many folks, I reckon, as 
 knows much about Si durin' summer. I hearn some say 
 as he follows the geese and ducks and wild fowl way up 
 'bout the North Pole, where he has a kind of knack for 
 fishin' and huntin' in the open sea. P'raps you know 
 what that is, an' whar' 'tis. They do say that Si Jones 
 has owned up to having actually found that North Pole, 
 and to have fished with it for whales, using a two-inch 
 cable for a line and a ship's anchor for a hook." 
 
 " You're a jolly fellow," broke in Hawks to the garru- 
 lous fisherman. " There, take that," tossing him a 
 silver dollar. " Make further inquiries about Si Jones 
 or any of his crew who ferried over the drove of slaves." 
 
 Turning to leave the crowd of fishermen who had been 
 listening to Gulliver, or " Gull," as he was known among 
 his companions because of his wonderful stories he never 
 tired of telling : 
 
 " Stranger," said a small man, ill-clad, with one leg 
 six inches shorter than the other, an oar in one hand 
 and a slouched hat in the other, " I was here when 
 that boat-load of niggers was set across the ice, and 
 I seed the man ketch the baby. 1 b'lieve you's mistaken 
 'bout its being a nigger baby ; 'twas jis' as white as any 
 of us, and that are fine gentleman which caught it, 
 jis' like a trab-ball, he declared it were a white baby 
 some one had stole. He follered nex' day over to St. 
 Louis to kinder find out about the thing. But he didn't, 
 all the same, — leastwise, I hearn him tell the lan'lady 
 up to the hotel that no soundin' could be had of 'em ; 
 and so he finally kinder took to the chile an' carried it ofif 
 with him. Stranger, I sells fish to the hotel an' the 
 lan'lady knows what I tell you is all true ; an' if yer 
 wanter know mor' 'an this, she kin tell it to yer." 
 
 Hawks had listened attentively to this story, walking 
 slowly away from the crowd. 
 
 " Now," said he, putting some silver in the man's hand, 
 
94 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 " say nothing of what you have told nie, but meet me 
 here to-morrow at this hour." 
 
 At the hotel Hawks heard from Tabitha's own lips all 
 the details of that dramatic incident, which, indeed, she 
 had told, at least a thousand times since, and with which 
 she invariably entertained a new guest. 
 
 " What became of the child ? " said Hawks. 
 
 " Well, 1 tried to get it myself and offered to adopt it 
 if Mr. Clayton would " 
 
 " What did you say was his name ? " interrupted 
 Hawks, impetuously. 
 
 " Clayton — Mister Clayton — and as fine a gen " 
 
 " Where from ? " said Hawks. 
 
 "Kentucky," said Tabitlia, rather stiffly. She was not 
 used to such lack of respect in her listeners, and began 
 to look at this Quaker gentleman through her spectacles 
 with a fresh scrutiny. 
 
 Hawks was quick to perceive that he was losing 
 ground, and very graciously praised the fried fish he was 
 eating before resuming. 
 
 "Did I understand you that Mr. Clayton was from 
 Kentucky.'" in his blandest tone. 
 
 Tabilha melted at once. 
 
 " Why, yes, I think so, or was it from Illinois ? No, it 
 was Kentucky — from Louisville or Lucaston. I have 
 heard him speak of that little town often." 
 
 At the name " Lucaston," Hawks gave a start, as 
 though the ghost of some recollection had thrust a dagger 
 into his hardened conscience, and, pushing away his 
 plate, he left the room. 
 
 When old Crank was met according to appointment. 
 he was plied with questions as to where Clayton 
 lived. 
 
 " Well, stranger, I think it is in Illinoy, somewhar ; 
 but Si Jones knows all about that ere man, and can go 
 an' put his hand on him. You see Si, he claims to be a 
 Kentuckian and that kinder makes him and the fine 
 gentleman take to each other. You know Kentuckians 
 are worse 'an a bird of a feather." 
 
 "But damnation. Crank, where is Si?" said Hawks, 
 losing all patience with the old man's loquacit}'. 
 
 " He's gone north with the wild fowl, but, stranger, he 
 conies back in cold weather an' you kin git all you wani 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 95 
 
 out of him by givin' him a drink of likor and starlin' liim 
 on the subject." 
 
 Faihng to get more information, Hawks decided to em- 
 ploy Crank to work for him in this business, and to aid 
 him in making a search at the river towns. Hawks and 
 Crank searched the towns on the Illinois side of the Mis- 
 sissippi River, Hawks making Alton his headquarters. 
 
 "If we succeed in finding this child," said Hawks one 
 day to Crank, " there will have to be a trial in court, and 
 I am going to claim it as my own slave." 
 
 "The devil you are! it's no nigger," said the aston- 
 ished Crank ; " it's white'n 'n you an' me put together. 
 That won't go down nowhere, stranger; no, sir, that won't 
 go down — leas'wise, I don't think so," he added, as he 
 looked up and saw his employer's scowling face glaring at 
 his own diminutive figure. 
 
 " Well, that is no concern of yours. You remember that 
 the child was handed to the man on shore by the gentle- 
 man in the boat." 
 
 " No, stranger, I said it was throw'd to him like a trab- 
 ball." 
 
 " Damnation, Crank, here's what I want you to say 
 when you are asked, and it's the truth too : — that the 
 baby was put in this man's hands to hold while we were 
 fixing the niggers in the boat, and pushed ofif, leaving the 
 child in his custody. I am going to swear to that state 
 of facts ; do you understand ? " 
 
 " Yes, stranger, but they are not all facts, for you was 
 agoin' to throw the kid under the ice, that's jis' what you 
 said when you " 
 
 "/said ? You say /was goin' to throw? " thundered 
 Hawks, glowering at Crank's diminutive figure. " What 
 in h — 1 do you mean by that.' " 
 
 "Come now, stranger," said Crank, with a queer laugh, 
 "that won't go down. Why, I know'd you from the fust 
 word you spoke about that." 
 
 "Oh, well," said Hawks, more quietly, "that's all right. 
 You and I are going to be sort of partners," said he, slap- 
 ping his friend good-naturedly on the shoulder. " But — 
 mum's the word," he added, with a warning gesture, 
 "don't forget." 
 
 " No ; I won't forgit." But there was something in 
 the tone which was not quite satisfactory to Hawks. 
 
96 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 "Crank," said he, fixing his eye upon him so that it 
 seemed to hold him, " I pay well for work ; I think you 
 know that. How does that suit of clothes compare with 
 the one I found you in ? " 
 
 "Yes, stranger," said Crank, meekly; "I only kinder 
 thought you was mistaken about some of the fax. That's 
 all."' 
 
 "Well, now, you just bear in mindyouVe got to remem- 
 ber things as /do. Do you hear ? " 
 
 I 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Spring had blossomed into summer, and Hawks was 
 still searching for his prey. He and Crank were on a 
 steamer, passengers to St. Louis, when a slight accident 
 detained them at Perkins' Landing on the Illinois side of 
 the Mississippi River. Strolling up to the warehouse — 
 store and saloon combined — Hawks inquired of Mr. Per- 
 kins the price of land, and the character of the settlers. 
 
 " Have you many Southern people here ? " 
 
 " Some few, mostly from across the river. Mr. Stanley, 
 or Mr. Clayton's team has just left the door. They are 
 from Kentucky. Mr. Clayton, I think, owns the settle- 
 ment and his cousin, John Stanley, superintends the nig- 
 gers that work for him. Clayton is away from home, and 
 is absent a good deal." 
 
 "What is Mr. Clayton's first name ? " inquired Hawks, 
 ordering a drink of whiskey and inviting the proprietor to 
 join him. Perkins looked up and observed the eager 
 expression of his questioner. 
 
 " Frank Clayton is his name, sir." 
 
 " I think I know or used to know this Mr. Clayton. 
 Can you tell me, has he any family ? " 
 
 " About five years ago, he brought a small child to the 
 settlement ; some say it might be his, though tiie old nig- 
 ger woman who tends to it, says it is a stolen baby that he 
 found somewhere. But I don't know anything about it. 
 None of my business you know." 
 
 On leaving the warehouse. Hawks said : 
 
 " I believe I'll stop over and see my old friend and 
 visit his place. How far is it from here .-' " 
 
 " Only a few miles back, sir." 
 
 So Hawks had his baggage removed from the steamer 
 to a small hotel or boarding-house, and he sent Crank to 
 a different place, after rehearsing the testiinony the latter 
 was to give when occasion required. 
 
 On the day following there was a great commotion at 
 the colonv. Little Petrel had been seized bv an officer 
 
98 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 on a process issued by the justice. Jolin Stanley had 
 been summoned from a distant part of the settlement 
 when the officer executed the writ, and, on arriving, found 
 his room occupied by two men — one the officer, whom he 
 knew casually at the landing, holding by the hand the 
 child who had cried herself hoarse, nay, speechless. In 
 her effort to escape from her captor, she had exhausted 
 herself, and was lying back in the chair by his side sob- 
 bing. The other, a tall, dark man, sat tapping the floor 
 with his cane. On the outside stood old Aunt Liza and 
 Aunt Dorcas, both in tears and lamentations, surrounded 
 by half a dozen negro children. 
 
 The officer had only waited out of courtesy for Mr. 
 Stanley's return, before taking the prisoner before the 
 Court. On seeing her protector, whom she had been in- 
 structed to call " Cousin John," enter the door, the child 
 sprang forward with a cry of joy. 
 
 " Oh, Tousin John, take me away — take me away." 
 
 Her movement was so like a flash of lightning that she 
 freed herself from the officer and was in the arms of John 
 Stanley in an instant, with her little curly head nestled 
 on his broad chest, as he stood glaring like a lion at the 
 two intruders. 
 
 The officer made an effort to intercept the child and to 
 gain possession of her, but was waved back with a hand 
 brown with honest toil, herculean in size and strength, and 
 in a commanding tone, that there was no mistaking, Stan- 
 ley said ; 
 
 " Back, sir, back, I say, or, by the Eternal, I will not be 
 answerable for the broken bones in your body. By what 
 authority do you come here and seize this child ? Under 
 what pretext do you do it ? " 
 
 Recovering his presence of mind, and prompted by 
 Hawks, the officer produced the warrant issued by the 
 justice. Holding the paper in one hand, with little Petrel 
 clinging tightly about his neck with both her little arms, 
 her head still bowed on his shoulder, John Stanley read it 
 over, and then said with deep deliberation: 
 
 " And you, Thomas Hawks, claim this child as your 
 slave.?" and John Stanley's eyes blazed with light like 
 two planets as he looked at the complainant. 
 
 Hawks nervously averted his face, arose from his seat, 
 and walked to the door, where he turned and said: 
 
TliE STORMY PETREL. 99 
 
 " Officer, do your duty. I am tired of the dumb show — 
 bring along your prisoner." 
 
 " Ah, it is well for you, villain as I know you are, that 
 I am a law-abiding man, else I would take you in these 
 hands of mine and literally pulverize and return you to 
 mother earth as fertilizer, all you are good for." 
 
 Then he sat down more calmly, and bade the officer be 
 seated while he made inquiry as to the mode of pro- 
 cedure, — when the trial would occur; if it could be post- 
 poned until Mr. Clayton could be present, not only as 
 protector of the child, but as an important witness in the 
 case. 
 
 '• I can only say,'" replied the officer, " that I am com- 
 manded by this writ, as you see, to bring this child before 
 the justice who issued it with all possible dispatch, and 
 there my duty ends, and your inquiries must be made of 
 the Court." 
 
 " So I see," said Stanley, as Hawks looked in at the 
 door and said: "Officer, when are you coming? I am 
 growing tired of this nonsense." 
 
 John Stanley ordered the old carriage that had been 
 brought with them from Kentucky, and the officer was in- 
 \ited to take a seat with him and his little charge, whose 
 arms were still clinging about his neck, and who could 
 not be induced to raise her head or speak but in a 
 whisper to her protector. All this was done with such 
 quiet power as left no room for question or dissent. 
 Hawks followed sullenly, occasionally muttering threats 
 of vengeance. 
 
 Arrived at the court-house, the justice was notified of 
 the return of the officer with his prisoner, and the writ ex- 
 ecuted. 
 
 In opening the case, Hawks demanded that the officer 
 should take charge of the prisoner, and not leave her in 
 tiie custody of an irresponsible party. 
 
 John Stanley spoke to the officer who sat at his side, 
 and they arose and walked to the dock, where both sat 
 down. 
 
 Hawks evidently expected to see Stanley resist the tak- 
 ing of the child from him ; but now the law was satisfied 
 without commotion. 
 
 Hawks, being sworn, proceeded to state his case. 
 
 He said he had bought the mother and child, and then 
 
100 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 recounted the difficulties of getting to New Orleans with 
 his slaves. 
 
 When he came to that part of his statement touching 
 the crossing of the river at St. Charles, he glanced 
 around the room at the motley crowd assembled, and 
 then, with a satisfied air, continued : 
 
 " And in arranging the slaves in a boat, this child, then 
 a young baby, was handed to a tall man to hold for a mu- 
 ment while the mother, with the other negroes, were get- 
 ting seated; the crush of ice was very great, and, in the 
 confusion, the boat was pushed off, and we only made the 
 discovery that the child had been left when too late, for 
 we were in the current and could not return, and it was 
 impossible to recross the river that day. Instead of the 
 man leaving the child at St. Charles in the custody of 
 some one, where it might have been easily found and re- 
 claimed by the real owner, he secreted her here. Impor- 
 tant business has compelled me to be absent for the last 
 five years, or I should have looked up this negro-thieving 
 Yankee before." And he threw an insolent look of de- 
 fiance at John Stanley, with the child gathered close in 
 his arms. 
 
 '• What evidence have you in support of your state- 
 ment ? " inquired the judge, as Hawks took his seat. 
 
 " I don't know, your honor, that more should be 
 required. I am sure there are none to gainsay what I 
 have testified to ; but since your honor has suggested it, I 
 will" say that the wharf at the time was crowded with 
 boatmen and fishermen, and I see quite a number here. 
 Some one of them might know of this affair. If any one 
 present knows anything of the matter, I wish he would 
 come forward." 
 
 After this request was made, there was a" stir in the 
 crowd and an insignificant figure emerged therefrom, and 
 limped up to the witness-box. Stopping there, he was 
 interrogated by the judge. 
 
 " Do you know this man ? " pointing to Hawks. 
 
 "Well, Jedge, can't say I know his name. I've seed 
 him afore this." 
 
 "Where did you see him ? " 
 
 " In St. Charles, Missouri, nigh on to five year ago ? " 
 
 " Have you heard his testimony .'' " 
 
 " Well, Jedge, I have, some of it." 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. lOl 
 
 " Do 30U know anything about the case ? " 
 
 " Yes, Jedge, I seed somethin' o' what was done at the 
 ice flood he's been tellin' about." 
 
 " The witness may be sworn," instructed the judge, 
 
 " What is your name ? " 
 
 " My name is Crank, sir." 
 
 " Crank, indeed ? " inquired the clerk. " You seem 
 well-named. Have you no other.''" 
 
 "They called me Tom Smith when I was a boy. I 
 got my leg broke, and the man what sot it said he was a 
 good surgeon, but he made a bad job outen it, and lef-' 
 one leg shorter'n the other. So people called me Crank 
 Smith, and at last they drapped the Smith and it is only 
 Crank now." 
 
 "Well, Smith, take this book " (extending the Bible), 
 " and I will swear you." 
 
 " I'll take this ere book, but that was never my way of 
 swearin'." 
 
 Crank was then sworn, and related the story of the 
 preparation for crossing the river substantially as Hawks 
 had done, but getting excited as he went along, he said: 
 
 " This man heah cussed the fellows on shore, and said 
 if some of 'em didn't catch the d d brat, he'd " 
 
 Hawks sprang to his feet. " I beg pardon, your 
 honor, I did not hear what the witness said. Now, my 
 good man, if you will repeat the last part of your tes- 
 timony, I will be obliged to you," saying which he 
 gave Crank a look of rage which made the witness 
 quail. 
 
 He cleared his throat in confusion, and was about to 
 begin again, when John Stanley, in turning around, 
 brought the little head that rested on his shoulder near to 
 the witness, and the breeze lifted the soft, dark hair which 
 fell upon the old man's hand, resting on the railing, reveal- 
 ing a portion of the distressed little face, so appealing and 
 helpless, that Crank involuntarily extended his hand, 
 and stroked back the curls. She felt the touch and 
 turned her face to see who it was. Their eyes met, and 
 the little girl smiled ; she recognized a kindly face ; and 
 the small hand that had clasped John Stanley so tightly 
 was timidly extended to her new friend. 
 
 All this happened in a moment : but the chord that 
 makes the whole world akin had been touched. 
 
102 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 Crank bowed his head on the dimpled little hand rest- 
 ing in his own, and, perhaps, gave the first kiss that mem- 
 ory had recorded ; and like the sacred rod that smote the 
 rock, a fountain was Ijosed in his heart, and down the 
 hardened and bronzed cheek stole a tear, while in a 
 choking voice, he said : 
 
 " No, Jedge, I can't change that ere evidence, if it killed 
 me. That man there, he swore worse'n the fiends that 
 he'd heave the brat into the ice ef somebody didn't take 
 it ; and he tossed the little thing high into the air, an' a 
 tali man on shore ketchedit on the fiy." 
 
 All this time. Hawks was glaring ferociously, at the 
 witness who deserted his cause and clung to the des- 
 perate fortunes of little Petrel. 
 
 " Then the child was literally thrown away ? " inquired 
 John Stanley. 
 
 " That's it, stranger," said Crank, " an' he throwed it 
 mighty hard, too." 
 
 " How came you to be present here ?" continued Stan- 
 ley, seeing his advantage in the old man's emotion. 
 
 " He brought me here," nodding his head towards 
 Hawks, who had not removed his eyes from the witness ; 
 but Crank was looking at the little face peering out of 
 the dark night of soft hair, like the silver lining of a som- 
 bre cloud, and sparkling from its depths were two eyes 
 like the star of hope. 
 
 " Did he pay your way here ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir ; paid my fare and paid me, too." 
 
 " Did he ever instruct you how you should testify in this 
 case when it should come up for trial .'' " 
 
 " I object, may it please your honor, to such ques- 
 tions," shouted Hawks, in a towering rage, as he arose 
 from his seat and approached the witness, " and I trust 
 the Court will not permit the witness to answer them." 
 
 "I want to show by his own witness, your honor," 
 remarked John Stanley, " that the complainant employed 
 this man to come here to testify in his favor." 
 
 " And what if I did ? " asked Hawks, breaking in with 
 an oath. 
 
 "Sir, you will be fined for contempt of court if you 
 repeat that offence," said the justice, as the two men 
 •Stood savagely staring at each other. 
 
 "I desire to show," continued Stanley, '"that the com 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. IO3 
 
 plainant attempted to corrupt the witness to give false 
 testimony." 
 
 " Be seated, gentlemen," said the constable. "Order 
 in court." 
 
 "The witness may answer the question," said the 
 justice. 
 
 " Well," continued Crank, " he tole me he was gwine 
 ter testify fust, and then I was to foller his lead." 
 
 " That he should be the next witness, your honor," 
 interposed Hawks. 
 
 "Follow him how?" asked Stanley, "by saying just 
 what he had previously sworn to ? " 
 
 " I object to putting words in the witness's mouth," 
 shouted Hawks again ; but all too late, for Crank re- 
 sponded : 
 
 " Jis' so, stranger. He said I mus' swar to jis' what he 
 did ; an' when I kinder objected, he said, ' Da'n yer, don' 
 I pay yer well, an' I want yer to earn yer money.' Well, 
 Jedge, I war kinder unsartin 'bout jis' what ter do, till I 
 saw that little thing thar so pitiful-like ; then I seed my 
 way cl'ar. A fellows may kinder warp the truth 'roun' to 
 suit circumstances when thar ain't anybody gwinter git 
 hurt by it. But if I was to say anything that warn't true, 
 ter help him git that ar' baby, I'd expect my tongue ter 
 cleave through my mouth an' my ha'r to stan' on en' like 
 the quills of a freckle porc'pine." 
 
 When Crank left the witness-stand, all eyes were 
 turned on Stanley, seated in the dock holding tlie little 
 prisoner. 
 
 " Have you any testimony to ofifer in defence, Mr. 
 Stanley.? " inquired the judge. 
 
 " I desire, your honor," said Stanley, rising and ap- 
 proaching the justice, "the postponement or continuance 
 of the case until Mr. Clayton, the real protector and 
 guardian of the child, can be present: I am sure your 
 honor will hesitate to commit this babe, born, I verily 
 believe, of white parents, to the mercy of that human 
 vulture who, from some diabolical plot, has cast the net 
 in which to ensnare an innocent soul. That there is' 
 some foul wrong hidden under this proceeding, I feel 
 assured. That this child is no slave, I can convince 
 your honor by a single glance at her features. Raise 
 your head, little pet, so that the gentleman may see you. 
 
104 '^HE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 Don't you want to know the kind judge who will protect 
 you from that rough, bad man ? Don't be afraid. Let the 
 gentleman see your face, and then you can go b.ick 
 iiome to old Aunt Liza." 
 
 Slowly the little head was lifted up, up until she sat erect. 
 
 "Open your eyes, my little girl," said the judge, 
 coaxingly. 
 
 The lids that had been closed tightly, fringed with 
 their long, dark lashes, relaxed a little, and by degrees, 
 like the breaking of dawn in the east, the full-orbed day 
 was revealed. Her large, dark eyes, soft and almost 
 black, with a tinge of amber, looked timidly at the judge. 
 
 Hawks arose and stepped in front to look again and 
 gloat over his victim. 
 
 At sight of his face, the child screamed and buried her 
 head on John Stanley's breast. For the first time 
 Hawks had looked full into the innocent face of the 
 child. What was there in that to make this hardened 
 scoundrel blanch, tremble, and gaze with distended eyes 
 as if he looked upon a ghost ? Perhaps it was the shadow 
 of some victim of long, long ago, whose memory started 
 into life as he caught an expression in this child's lum- 
 inous eyes. But this was no time to think of " the shad- 
 owy past," and he said, falteringly : 
 
 " I have a bill-of-sale, your honor, of this child 
 and her mother, which I offer for the inspection of 
 the Court, and which, for private reasons, I prefer 
 should not be shown to others. The evidence in this 
 case is for the court and not for the public. This paper 
 shows conclusively that the child is a slave and is my 
 property, and I demand her under the laws of our coun- 
 try. As for the delay or postponement of the case until 
 Mr Clayton can respond as defendant, it is out of the 
 question, as your honor will see. As near as I can 
 learn, he is somewhere in Kansas, and it may require 
 three or four weeks to have him here. I have a large 
 estate in Louisiana; am now going direct to New Orleans 
 where I live, and where the child's mother is anxiously 
 awaiting the result of this trial. After live years' separa- 
 tion from her child, it would be inhuman to keep her a 
 day longer in suspense than is necessary. I will leave 
 your honor my address, where any process the court may 
 choose to issue, will reach me." 
 
THE STORM V PETREL. 105 
 
 The judge took ihe bill-of-sale obtained from Harr\' 
 Barnes by Hawks on the steamer, and after examination, 
 said : 
 
 " This seems all regular ; and if you have no testimony 
 to offer, Mr. Stanley, j will render my decision." 
 
 John Stanley bowed his head until his chin rested 
 upon the little shoulder of Petrel, and thus in silence, 
 heard the decision which the Court proceeded to ren- 
 der. 
 
 The judge held that, while it was evident from the 
 testimony of the principal witness in the case that 
 the plaintiff intended to desert and abandon his own- 
 ership in the child, yet he nevertheless could reclaim 
 his property "for lack of consideration and legal conve\- 
 ance, by proof of ownership and payment of costs, upon 
 the doing of which he shall have possession of the child."' 
 
 When the decision had been rendered. Crank stole 
 quietly from the room, vowing in his own heart never to 
 lose sight or trace of Petrel until she was rescued from 
 Hawks. 
 
 When the Court had concluded, the necessary order 
 was prepared, directing John Stanley to surrender 
 possession of the child to its rightful owner. 
 
 Totally oblivious to all surroundings, the two stood, 
 like the sturdy oak and the clinging vine after the wood- 
 man's axe had severed the support. 
 
 The officer approached and placing his hand on Stan- 
 ley's shoulder, said : 
 
 '' 'Tis the order of the Court that you surrender the 
 child to the custody of the law to be delivered to the 
 rightful owner. Stanley released his hold and both arms 
 fell to his side. There was a perceptible shudder and 
 tightening of the arms as little Petrel clung to the neck 
 of her guardian. Without raising his head, Stanley 
 said : 
 
 " I am a law-abiding man. Do your duty." 
 
 "Yes, but you must release her." 
 
 " That, I have done." 
 
 " Then you must make her release you." 
 
 " The law does not require it, and I only conform 
 to the commands of its letter. It is like having my heart- 
 strings torn when done by other hands ; and I shall not 
 dip mine in human blood. " 
 
Io6 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 At this juncture, Hawks approached and said to the 
 officer, as he took one of the httle arms roughly in his 
 grasp and tore it from Stanley's neck : 
 
 " Now loose the other," and the child was borne 
 screaming, almost in spasms, from the room with ex- 
 tended arms and streaming eyes, crying : 
 
 " Tousin John, Tousin John. ' 
 
 As John Stanley raised his eyes to behold that help- 
 less little one, his first impulse was to fly to her aid ; and 
 with one great stride, he bounded to the side of 
 Hawks, but immediately three rough men interposed, 
 as if by a preconcerted arrangement, and the fore- 
 most of the trio laid a heavy hand upon his shoul- 
 der. Stanley freed himself from the grasp of the 
 man, but in doing so, lost his sleeve and thus re- 
 vealed an arm that would have graced well an Ajax. 
 The three men surrounded him, each striving to strike 
 him down, but Stanley's wonderful strength and supe- 
 rior skill in boxing (for he and Clayton had made 
 the manly art one of their regular course of exer- 
 cises and amusements) soon succeeded in flooring the 
 three. 
 
 By this time. Hawks and the officer had disap- 
 peared with Petrel ; and as Stanley saw the angry 
 roughs preparing to assault him anew, he walked to 
 where the judge and clerk of the court were stand- 
 ing, the judge having rapped and commanded the 
 peace to no purpose. As he approached, he said : 
 
 "Judge, I shall be charged with a breach of the 
 peace, and perhaps resisting an officer in the dis- 
 charge of his duty, though God knows I had no 
 such intention. To avoid further trouble, which I see 
 impending, I surrender myself as prisoner to answer 
 the charge when made." 
 
 The judge placed his hand upon Stanley's shoulder 
 and commanded the crowd to disperse, as the offender 
 had surrendered and was under arrest ; and at this 
 moment the bailiff, having returned from his duties, was 
 directed to disperse the crowd, which he did. 
 
 The judge, turning to Stanley, said : 
 
 "Now, take my advice and go home at once. I will 
 take your personal recognizance and will notify you 
 when you are wanted." 
 
CHAPTER XXr. 
 
 Late in the afternoon of an October da}', Clayton sat 
 in the door of his cabin, rebuilt upon the site of that 
 which had been destroyed by fire, gazing at the western 
 sky as the golden tints of the setting sun illumined the 
 masses of lazily drifting clouds, looking like great ice- 
 bergs on fire, afloat in an ocean of blue. 
 
 He had sent his servant to the post-office at Lawrence, 
 and was now awaiting his arrival with the mail. The 
 horse and rider soon appeared on the Indian trail leading 
 to his cabin, and impatient to get the news, he walked ta 
 the brow of the hill to meet Aleck, who delivered to him 
 two well-worn letters, which bore the post-mark of Per- 
 kins' Landing and were both in John Stanley's hand- 
 writing. 
 
 Breaking the seal of the one with the earliest date, he 
 read as follows : — 
 
 "Aug.— 185-. 
 " Dear Frank : — 
 
 " Our crops are now assured. The rain came in 
 time to avert the threatened drought. I am really proud 
 of the season's achievements. All of the hands have 
 done well, with one or two exceptions ; — you know who 
 the 'old soldiers' are — but under the rules that I have 
 enforced, ' those that sow shall reap, and those only.' 
 Tom and Bob are doing better. Ned's example is good, 
 and Aunt Liza works their little garden, which is a 
 model for the others, and a great success." 
 
 After some further details concerning farm work, Stan- 
 ley wrote : — 
 
 " This is Sunday, and I wish you could see all the peo- 
 ple assembled as they are now, under the old canvas 
 church, where Uncle Ned is preaching a sermon upon the 
 duties of life from the text : ' Be diligent in business, fer- 
 vent in spirit, serving the Lord.' Little Pearl, as I call 
 
108 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 her, is near me, kneeling upon the rug, with pencil and 
 paper on a chair, 'writing to Uncle Frank.' I shall 
 enclose the hieroglyphics, which you must decipher. She 
 is a winning creatuie. I am not sure I should be so con- 
 tented here if her bright little face did not welcome me at 
 the door every day. 
 
 " There seems to be a lull in Kansas affairs now ; why 
 not come home and see for yourself how things progress 
 at the settlement ? 
 
 " Do you get any news from Sam ? 
 
 " Sincerely your friend, 
 
 " John Stanley." 
 
 Clayton sat musing for awhile upon the possibility of 
 returning to Illinois. This vagrant life was becoming 
 tiresome, and he longed to see his little ward, who had 
 found refuge from the storms of life in such a harbor. 
 
 With his thoughts still in a reverie, he abstractedly 
 broke the seal of the remaining letter and continued to 
 read, when suddenly he sprang to his feet, exclaiming, 
 " My God ! Petrel kidnapped by Tom Hawks, the 
 notorious gambler and dealer in human flesh ! Heaven 
 protect her! Let me see — since August — two months 
 she has been in the hands of that human fiend ! " 
 
 Maddened at the thought of the child's peril and possi- 
 ble fate, Frank strode up and down the floor in an agony 
 of agitation, trying to compose his thoughts, that he 
 might determine what to do first — for reclaim her he 
 would — and grasping his Colt's revolver, he said : 
 
 " Let me set eyes on the villain, and I'll make him 
 bite the dust, if he does not give her back to me safe." 
 
 At this moment, he heard a firm, heavy footstep 
 approaching, and, looking up, saw the benign face and 
 massive form of John Brown standing in the doorway. 
 
 " Oh, my friend," said Clayton, impetuously, seizing 
 his hand, "the fiends have been at work again." 
 
 " Why, what is it, my boy.'' " said the old man, kindly, 
 putting his hand on Frank's shoulder. "What has hap- 
 pened ? " 
 
 Then he listened with earnest, kindling eyes as the out- 
 rage was recited to him, saying not a word, but slowly 
 nodding his head as the details were read by his young 
 friend in a choking voice. But the deep fires did not 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. IO9 
 
 blaze, they only smouldered, as he said, " The same old 
 story — wrong, cruelty, suffering ! As is natural, you are 
 thinking of the child who is so dear to you, but / am 
 thinking of this hideous upas tree, which poisons the blood 
 of the nation, converting men into monsters." Now the 
 fires began to blaze, as he strode to and fro. 
 
 " Yes, monsters, Clayton," and he paused, his eyes 
 shining with a strange light and fixed upon Frank's. 
 "Now listen; and remember what I say. Kansas is 
 merely the skirmish ground ; the battle will rage through 
 all the land ; the soil of every State will be stained with 
 blood; the nation will be shrouded in mourning and cov- 
 ered with ashes ; dead men's bones will bleach upon the 
 field of carnage. But out of this desolation, blood, and 
 ashes, shall arise. Phoenix-like, a republic in which jus- 
 tice and mercy shall rule and all men shall be free and 
 equal. But," he added, in a softened tone, and taking 
 Frank's hand in his, "do not think I am unsympathetic, 
 my dear boy; but I see so much in all this — so much 
 more than others seem to see — that I feel as if a great 
 burden was laid upon me which I must bear for the rest 
 — but let it go, let it go," and he passed his hand through 
 the halo of gray hair which glistened in the sunlight. 
 
 " Now let us think what's to be done," and with a sort 
 of practical determination he sat down by the table, and 
 drawing paper and pen before him, said : " You must go, 
 of course, at once ; and if your clever young friend, 
 Duvall,can go with you, so much the better. I will look 
 after your matters here ; so just tell me briefly what I can 
 do about Sam, and I will make a memorandum of it." 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Brown, how kind ! With all you have to do 
 here, I could not ask you " 
 
 John Brown waved his hand in reply to this protest. 
 
 " No time to be lost ; go on," said he. 
 
 So Frank speedily gave him all the clues and their plan 
 of procedure regarding Sam, and left everything in his 
 hands. " Duvall will remain where he is and be in com- 
 munication with you. I think it is better so, as emer- 
 gencies may arise here which would impose too much 
 upon you. Thank you, my dear friend, for all that you 
 have done." 
 
 He hastened to Kansas Cit}', and after a hurried inter- 
 view with Claude, confiding to him the new and dreadful 
 
no THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 trouble, charged him to confer with Mr. Brown as with 
 himself. "Trust him as you would the Apostle Paul," 
 were his last words. 
 
 The steamer's whistle blew ; he hurried on board and 
 was borne down the river at a rapid rate, though slow 
 indeed compared with his desires. As a precautionary 
 measure, he stopped at St. Charles and made inquiries at 
 the hotel, where he learned of Hawks' previous visit 
 there and of his efforts to obtain Clayton's address. He 
 also learned that Crank had disappeared with Hawks, 
 and it was reported that he was in his emplo3^ The 
 landlady was distressed at the fate of little Petrel, and 
 described to Frank the Quaker gentleman who seemed 
 so interested in the story. 
 
 "The scroundel," said he, through his closed teeth. 
 "We'll run him down ; we'll corner him like a rat." 
 
 He concluded it would be well to see John Stanley 
 before doing anything, so directed his steps to the Colony, 
 where his arrival produced great rejoicing, mingled with 
 lamentations over the loss of Petrel. 
 
 Aunt Eliza seemed to feel that she was responsible for 
 the loss of her charge, and was overwhelmed with distress. 
 
 " I'se been bery misfortent old nigger, Mars Frank. I 
 done try to do all I promise. 'Twould done yer heart 
 good to a seen dat chil' afore dey took her away f'om 
 dese yer ban's. Press de Lor', I warn't gwine ter gib her 
 up till dat officer, he took out he pistol and say dat he 
 gwinter shoot dis nigger, an' dat big tall debel gemmen, 
 he kep' sayin' to the officer, ' Why don' you shoot de 
 
 d d ol' nigger ef she don' leg go de chile? ' an' all dis 
 
 time I had dese two arms wrap' roun' her, an' if you be- 
 lieve me, dat chil' nearly goed inter spasms, she was so 
 scart. Well, Mars Frank, 'twould a broke yer heart to a 
 seed what I seed. Mars John clare broke down, but 
 Laws, dey had all de officers an' de jedge on dey side an' 
 dey took her 'way f'om him." 
 
 Clayton was deeply moved, and at the particulars of the 
 outrage from Stanley, he decided to leave at once for 
 New Orleans and search for the villain who had done this 
 deed. So, after giving a few necessary orders, he took 
 the steamer at Perkins' Landing for St. Louis, thence to 
 New Orleans. 
 
 After registering his name at the St. Charles Hotel, 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. Ill 
 
 New Orleans, Frank heard a genial voice say : " Hello ! 
 is that you, Clayton ? One — two — why, I believe it's 
 more than three years since I saw you — and, by the way," 
 and Captain Swan drew him confidentially one side, "you 
 know Doctor Barnes and your uncle have been lying 
 low for that man Hawks." 
 
 " Hawks ? " said Frank, with a start. " What in Heav- 
 en's name do they want of him ? " 
 
 " Oh ! You don't know about it.' Well, they've been 
 mighty close about it, because, you see, they knew if they 
 kept quiet he'd come back." 
 
 " Captain, I don't know what you're talking about," 
 said Frank, puzzled and bewildered 
 
 " Well," said the captain, " now I've told so much, 
 you may as well know the rest." 
 
 Frank gave his hand reassuringly. " Depend on me for 
 discretion. And I'll tell you, by the way, that my busi- 
 ness here is to find that scoundrel Hawks and bring him 
 to justice on my own account." 
 
 " No ! " said the captain, astonished. " Well, then, 
 we'll just join forces. That's pretty good, pretty good," 
 and he laughed with satisfaction. 
 
 " Well, you see, it's this way. When Harry Barnes 
 died, his uncle, the doctor, was laid up with a broken leg, 
 and it was some time before he began to suspect that 
 there had been some sort of foul play with the boy. So, 
 soon as he was able, he went and talked to his lawyer, 
 and mighty carefully they worked up the case. Sure 
 enough, when they had the remains exhumed and ana- 
 lyzed there was poison in his stomach, enough to kill him 
 and to convict his murderer. Hawks had disappeared ; 
 so they concluded to wait and to throw them all off the 
 
 scent by not seeming to care a what had become of 
 
 him. Why, bless your soul, it was the clearest case — 
 but to go on. Last week I had a letter from the doctor, 
 saying the old fox was back — had been up the river some- 
 where and would walk straight into the trap if we'd set 
 it ; and, by George, if I haven't got the warrant for his 
 arrest this minute in my pocket, and three or four men 
 watching around town ; for he'll come here, sure's my 
 name's Swan. They're keeping an eye on that man Ray, 
 Colonel Ray, for they're great chums and will turn up to- 
 gether somewhere." 
 
112 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 As he was speaking, a boy came up and placed in the 
 captain's hand a telegram, which read thus : 
 
 " Booneville. Come at once ; game here." Signed, 
 "B." 
 
 He handed it to Frank, and it required only five min- 
 utes to have the recently arrived trunk brought down- 
 stairs again and once more placed on the up-going 
 steamer, where he had ample leisure to relate to his com- 
 panion his own reasons for desiring to find Mr, Thomas 
 Hawks. 
 
 After Dr. Barnes' recovery, he had, as related by Cap- 
 tain Swan, had the body of his unfortunate nephew disin- 
 terred and the stomach and liver analyzed. The result 
 showed the presence of a poisonous substance sufficient 
 to produce death. The facts were laid before a grand 
 jury, together with the testimony of the clerk and bar- 
 tender of the steamer upon which Hawks and the de- 
 ceased were passengers on that fatal trip. The bar-tender 
 was very explicit as to the game of cards, the high 
 stakes played for, and the several drinks taken and their 
 character; also, as to Barnes' rational condition about 
 eleven o'clock, and that an hour later, with but one drink 
 intervening, he was found senseless at the card-table after 
 Hawks had left on the down steamer, taking the woman 
 and her baby with him. The bar-tender remembered dis- 
 tinctly the order for the two brandies and sugar, — one 
 weak and sweet, with a litle port for coloring. The bar- 
 tender himself took the drinks to the private room where 
 the men were playing. He further swore that Hawks 
 took the dark glass and turned his back to them to drink, 
 when he suddenly wheeled about, and said; 
 
 " Hold on, Barnes, you like yours stronger, and this is 
 yours," and exchanged glasses. 
 
 He thought at the time there was something put from 
 a paper in his pocket in the glass, but could not say posi- 
 tively. 
 
 On this testimony, the grand jury found a true bill 
 against Thomas Hawks for the murder, by poison, of 
 Harry Barnes, on the steamer " Clermont " on the night 
 of — , i8— . 
 
 On this indictment, the governor of the State issued a 
 requisition on the governor of Missouri for the said 
 Thomas Hawks, as information had been given the parties 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. II3 
 
 concerned that Hawks had been seen in St. Louis. A 
 fruitless search for the criminal there resulted in tracing 
 him to Jefferson City ; but on arriving there, the bird had 
 flown. It was said that he made his home at one of the 
 river towns below. The governor of Missouri had com- 
 plied with the requisition of the governor of Kentucky, 
 and issued the writ for Hawks' arrest and empowered the 
 officers to serve it anywhere in the State. 
 
 It soon became evident that Hawks had eluded them, 
 and after consultation with the prosecuting officer, it was 
 decided to let the matter drop, and, giving the impression 
 that the prosecution had been abandoned, quietly to wait 
 till such time as the miscreant should return of his own 
 accord, as he would be sure to do, believing the thing had 
 blown over and he would be safe. 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 On the following Saturday night there were assembled 
 in a well-furnished and lighted room in the rear of a some- 
 what pretentious-looking brick building just opposite the 
 Booneville Hotel, three men, talking and smoking, each 
 with a glass freshly poured, when a smart rap was heard 
 upon the door, followed by three more, equally loud and 
 sharp. 
 
 " Who in thunder can that be ! " said the one who 
 seemed to be the host, — a tall, well-dressed, dark man with 
 long black mustache, who may be readily recognized as 
 Tom Hawks. As he spoke, his eye glanced across the 
 table to two men, each in rank and station far below the 
 speaker, but having the appearance of sporting men. 
 These two men also arose, and one of them remarked : 
 
 " Colonel, I guess Sly has forgotten his cue, or else 
 he's got excited and hit the knocks too hard. Shall I 
 open the door.' " 
 
 " No, Mr, Sparks, not by a d — n sight. If he can't 
 remember enough to give one moderate knock followed 
 by three lighter ones, and not make such a h— 1 of a 
 fuss, he can stay out, d — n him." 
 
 Just then, the knock was repeated, followed by three 
 light taps, and the door was opened to Sam Sly. 
 
 An expression of anxiety and fear was visible on his 
 face as he came to the table, and said : 
 
 " I be d d, Colonel, if there is not something wrong 
 
 in the cards to-night. As sure as we are here, something 
 is up." 
 
 Every man was again on his feet in an instant, leaving 
 his whiskey untouched. 
 
 " Tell us quickly, man ! " said Hawks, walking to where 
 Sly stood, and putting his hand on his shoulder with the 
 grip of a vise. " What's the matter that has turned your 
 liver white to-night ? " 
 
 "Who says I have a white liver?" replied Sam, trying 
 to shake off the hand. 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. II5 
 
 "I say you look like a frightened girl. Now tell ine 
 
 what you saw, and that d d quick. I am getting tired 
 
 of this d d nonsense. Now to the point at once." 
 
 " Since you are in such a hurry, I'll tell you there are 
 three men over at the hotel just arrived, and two of them 
 are officers with warrants, for I heard them talking of 
 probable resistance ; something about a requisition from 
 some governor, I think he said of Kentucky ; and I'm 
 pretty sure your name was mentioned in the conversation 
 as well as my own. They have been making inquiries 
 and learned our association together, and may be, our 
 location as well ! " 
 
 " How do you know these men are officers of the law ? " 
 anxiously inquired Hawks. 
 
 " I saw their papers through the key-hole. I happened 
 to be in an adjoining room and heard them comparing 
 notes." 
 
 " And who was the third party .'' You say there were 
 three of them." 
 
 *' Well, Colonel, I couldn't say positively who the third 
 party is; but I have my suspicions, from seeing his long 
 stride as he walked across the room giving directions as 
 though he were the commander of the expedition, whatever 
 it is. I think I recognized the voice of the man too, but I 
 hope I am mistaken. We shall see all too soon, per- 
 haps." 
 
 "Tell me who you suspect.-"' said Hawks, impatiently, 
 '•and let us drink the whiskey waiting for us. Here, Ben, 
 pour out a drink for this man to give him courage to tell 
 his fears." 
 
 " If my suspicions are well-founded, Colonel, neither 
 you nor I can find much ground for rejoicing." 
 
 " You be d d, Sly, there is no man living or dead that 
 
 I am afraid of : so here's to the new-comers, whoever they 
 are, and we will give them a warm reception ; eh, boys ? " 
 
 " That we will. Colonel," was the response of all, as they 
 drained the glasses. 
 
 " Well," said Sly, " we can give them about as good as 
 they send, — seeing there are four of us." 
 
 " I am glad to hear you say so much, Sly. Now tell us 
 the name of this Ogre, who has frozen your courage and 
 manhood up in your boots." 
 
 ■' Colonel Hawks, I am not more easily frightened than 
 
Il6 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 you are, but let me tell you, Mr. Frank Clayton isn't one to 
 be hunting for us with two officers of the law on a child's 
 errand. He is in terrible earnest, and told the officers to 
 look well to their arms before attempting to serve their 
 warrants, and then he added : ' Don't hesitate to use them, 
 if any resistance is offered.' " 
 
 At the mention of Clayton's name. Sparks quailed per- 
 ceptibly, and a slight shade passed over Hawks' brow as 
 he involuntarily put his hand on his pistol ; and when Sly 
 had ceased speaking, he dryly remarked : 
 
 " We all mean business, and I, for one, don't propose to 
 be taken alive. Here, fill up the glasses, and we'll keep 
 our spirits up by pouring spirits down." 
 
 Just then, the tramp of feet was heard outside the door, 
 and a heavy knock sounded through the room. The 
 brimming glasses were set down hastily, and each man's 
 hand reached for his pistol. 
 
 " Who's there .'' " demanded Hawks, gruffly. 
 
 " An officer of the law, with a warrant for the arrest of 
 Thomas Hawks," responded the officer outside, " and in 
 the name of the law and by the authority of the governor 
 of Missouri, I demand admittance." 
 
 " And suppose we tell you he is not here and that you 
 can't have admittance." 
 
 " Then it becomes our duty to break down the door 
 and make a thorough search of the premises." 
 
 "I think you had better do your duty then, sir; but 
 before you begin, let me warn you there are four of us in 
 here, well-armed, and we propose to kill the first man 
 who enters the room." 
 
 "Yes, and yer can bet I'll git the second one," roared 
 Ben Baugh, so as to be heard through the hall. 
 
 Then stillness reigned for a moment ; and the officer 
 said in a firm, loud voice : 
 
 " Mr. Clayton, and you, good citizens, I command you, in 
 the name of the law, to aid in the execution of this writ." 
 
 Then, after trying the locks which were found secure, 
 there was a whispered conference and it was arranged 
 that the three men draw their pistols, step back a few 
 paces, and run full force against the door, breaking it 
 down, and land, all at once, in the room, taking the enemy 
 by surprise. 
 
 Inside, the men were ranged, Hawks and Sly in front 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. II7 
 
 of the door ; on one side of the table stood Ben Baugh, 
 and upon the other was Sparks, all with pistols drawn ; and 
 upon the table were two large bowie knives unsheathed, 
 with their blades glittering ominously in the light. 
 
 On the outside, the three men ranged themselves side 
 by side in the wide hall, and at the words, "One, — two, — 
 three," — they went thundering against the door, which, as 
 they had calculated, gave way with a crash, and the three 
 men rushed into the room pell-mell and were met by a vol- 
 ley of shots and bitter oaths ; but above the din was heard : 
 " In the name of law, I command you all to surrender," 
 to which there was no answer save from the mouths of the 
 pistols. Then came groans and shrieks of anguish out of 
 total darkness, for the table had been overturned and the 
 lights exlinguisiied. Out of the inky background now and 
 then there shot forth a lurid flame of fire and sulphurous 
 smoke, laden with a messenger of death aimed only at a 
 voice or the sound of footsteps. 
 
 " Cease firing, I command you in the name of the law," 
 shouted the officer, " if you expect mercy." 
 
 "I neither receive nor show it," said a man in a harsh, 
 unnatural voice, from the floor in one corner of the room, 
 and, at the same time, a flash of the pistol revealed Tom 
 Hawks lying on the floor, resting upon one elbow, firing 
 as best he could to the last. 
 
 " Shoot the scoundrel," shouted the officer, as he leveled 
 his pistol and fired in the direction where Hawks lay. 
 
 A scream of anguish came back like an echo, and all 
 was still. 
 
 "I surrender, Mr. Clayton, I surrender," said one of 
 the desperate men. 
 
 " Who are you ? " asked the officer, as a light was 
 brought, revealing Sparks crouched on the floor in one 
 corner of the room, still holding his smoking pistol. 
 
 '• Lay down your arms, then, if you surrender," replied 
 the officer, stepping forward and placing his hand upon 
 the crouching man's shoulder. 
 
 Then, looking around. Hawks was found covered with 
 blood, lying upon the floor, with a wound in the left breast 
 and one in the hip, with blood flowing from his mouth 
 freely. 
 
 "This is the man we are seeking," said Clayton, ap- 
 proaching, with his left hand pressed tightly to his side. 
 
Il8 THE STORMY PETREL, 
 
 " In God's name, I hope he is not dying; at least, that 
 he may live to speak. Bring water, quickly ! Let us re- 
 vive him, if possible. He must speak ! " 
 
 " Wash out his mouth, and give him a little of that 
 brandy I see upon the side table," said the officer. 
 
 After repeated applications of brandy and water. 
 Hawks opened his eyes as Clayton bent over him with 
 spoon and glass. A strange light shone in his eyes, 
 which were sunken under a threatening black brow, such 
 as Lucifer, son of the morning, may have flashed back 
 upon the battlements of heaven when cast in the pit. 
 The lips moved as though he would speak, but no words 
 came. 
 
 "Take this," said Clayton, " it will revive you," placing 
 the spoon in his mouth, when the teeth were shut like a 
 vise, fairly crushing the spoon. 
 
 " Tell me where you have put that child. Come, tell — 
 and undo, as much as you can, the great wrong you have 
 done." 
 
 Again the lips moved convulsively as if to speak, 
 
 Clayton put his ear down, and said : 
 
 " Do try and tell me before it is too late, and may God 
 have mercy upon your soul." 
 
 In a broken, choked whisper, there hissed, as if from the 
 iron jaws of death, the words : 
 
 " I wish I could spit in your damned face before I 
 die !" 
 
 It seemed as though his whole remaining strength and 
 life had been concentrated and exhausted in the ferocious 
 message. The fire faded from the eye, the lips were 
 compressed, and with a slight convulsion of his frame, 
 death claimed another victim. 
 
 As Clayton leaned over the dying wretch, the glass and 
 spoon slipped from his hand to the floor; everything grew 
 dark, and he fell forward across the prostrate form of his 
 deadly enemj'. 
 
 On lifting the fainting man, his left hand fell from hi'^ 
 side followed by a stream of blood, the first intimation of 
 his wound. The surgeon who had been summoned for 
 Hawks arrived in good season for a different patient, as 
 the other had gone beyond his reach. 
 
 Restorati'^es were applied to the wounded man. and he 
 was removed to a quiet room at the hotel, borne upon the 
 
THE STORMY PETREL, I 19 
 
 door which he had so recently and bravely helped to 
 break down. 
 
 Upon lifting the table, the body of Sam Sly was found 
 with a bullet-hole in the temple. He was still grasping 
 his revolver, which had but one empty chamber, showing 
 he fell at the first fire. 
 
 Ben Baugh and Sparks were both taken into custody, 
 charged with resisting an ofBcer in the discharge of his 
 duty, and assault "with intent to kill." 
 
 The coroner held an inquest upon the dead bodies, and 
 a verdict was rendered by the jury that " death ensued 
 from pistol-shot wounds inflicted by officers of the law 
 •in the proper discharge of their duty." 
 
 Sparks, who was no longer employed by Judge Stan- 
 ley, confessed to having aided Sly in the kidnapping of 
 Sam, but didn't know to whom he had been sold. 
 
 The sentences in the case of each man were made as 
 light as the law permitted. 
 
 In a darkened chamber in the hotel, Frank Clayton 
 was lying, the pulse of life feebly fluttering at its centre. 
 
 The wound in his side had been probed, and it was 
 found that the ball had passed out without striking any 
 vital part or fracture of the bones ; but there had been 
 great loss of blood. The first night the patient appeared 
 to be sinking ; the effect, the physicians stated, of pros- 
 tration of the nervous system ; but in twenty-four hours 
 there was a change; nature seemed to rally all her 
 forces and in the morning the doctor found instead of 
 fever having set in as he expected, the pulse was weak 
 but regular, and sleep brought renewed strength to the 
 sufferer. 
 
 Youth and a constituion that had never been taxed or 
 broken by excesses now came to the aid of the physician. 
 
 Temperance and kindred virtues brought their reward 
 to the life that had trembled in the balance and now gave 
 fresh light in the eye and color to the pallid cheek. Con- 
 valescence seemed like the magic transformation that 
 nature repeats every spring, clothing the fields and for- 
 ests in beauty. The excitement and mental distress of 
 the last few weeks, which had culminated in that night of 
 bloodshed and the curses of the dying criminal, were fol- 
 lowed by what seemed a Rip Van Winkle-like nap to 
 
I20 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 Clayton, and he awoke with a more quiet pulse to a new 
 lease of life. It was happiness to live and breathe and 
 look at the blue sky and drifting clouds from his window. 
 The past was a dream ; a night-mare he would not 
 recall. 
 
 The doctor was proud of his patient's recovery, without 
 fever or the many ills that wounded flesh is heir to, and 
 he ascribed Clayton's restoration to his own skill. One 
 morning he was surprised at finding his patient up and 
 dressed, ready for a walk, but he compromised with a 
 drive, and soon the day was fixed for his departure. 
 
 The duties of life must be taken up and search made 
 for little Petrel, whose captor had died and made no sign 
 that would lead to her recovery. 
 
CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 Three weeks from the day of Clayton's arrival at 
 Booneville, he went clown to take the steamer for St. 
 Louis. Standing upon the wharf, his attention was 
 attracted by a man limping badly, making his way toward 
 the boat, holding by the hand a little girl, apparently one 
 of the poor whites, with bare feet and a sun-bonnet drawn 
 over her head. Something about the child, and the man- 
 ner of the man, caused Clayton's eye to follow, and, like 
 a flash, it occurred to him that it could be none other 
 than Crank, the lame fisherman of St. Charles, who had 
 testified against Hawks at the trial. With his eye 
 fixed on the halting figure as he was jostled here and 
 there, nearing the gang-plank, he tried to overtake him. 
 The din and cursing of the draymen and boat hands, all 
 crowding to and fro, were at that moment joined by the 
 steamer's whistle blowing her last call for ' all aboard.' 
 He saw the man start on the gang-plank just as the men 
 were rushing on shore for the last freight, and the passing 
 throng jostling him, he lost his balance and went with a 
 loud splash into the water, bearing with him the little 
 girl. 
 
 Then went up a shout : " Man overboard ! Man over- 
 board ! Boat ahoy." 
 
 All was confusion, and Clayton was just in time to see 
 the sun-bonnet floating away down stream. He forgot 
 all medical advice as to remaining " quiet and avoiding 
 excitement," and with one bound plunged into the river 
 and grasped the child as she came up after disappearing 
 under the water. With a few strokes, he reached the 
 shore, and to his joy and the surprise of all, the old man 
 still held the other hand of the child. Both were drawn 
 out and placed on board the steamer and soon 
 revived. Clayton was taken up in a greatly exhausted 
 and almost unconscious condition, and placed in a state- 
 room ; a physician was sent for, who gave him medical 
 attention. After an hour's rest, he said he wished to see 
 
122 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 the man whom he had rescued. Crank was found near 
 the room door, waiting anxiously to hear from his bene- 
 factor. 
 
 " Well, stranger," said Crank, as they were left alone, 
 " you've give me a helpin' han' out o' the water ; now 
 what can I do for you ? " 
 
 " Crank," said Clayton, " don't you know me ? " 
 
 " Bless my eyes, if it ain't Mr. Clayton ; an' I've been 
 studyin' how ter fin' you." 
 
 " What child was that ? — tell me," said Clayton eagerly. 
 
 Without a word the man limped out of the room, and 
 then returned, leading by the hand a little girl, in a coarse, 
 homespun gown which the chambermaid had put on her in 
 place of the wet garments. Her feet were bare, and her 
 hair still wet. 
 
 " God be thanked ! " said Clayton, as he saw the little 
 creature actually before him. The soft eyes were timidly 
 averted, as if she knew not what dreadful thing might be in 
 store for her. Her pathetic docility almost unmanned him, 
 
 " Petrel, darling, said he, " come to Uncle Frank." 
 
 Swift as lightning the face turned to his, and with a cry 
 and a bound, she was in his arms. 
 
 Crank limped away and wiped his eyes with his sleeve, 
 looking out of the window to recover himself. 
 
 " Wall," he said, I s'pose it's nat'ral ; she's knowed him 
 longer'n me ; but I did think p'r'aps she'd kinder like to 
 stay with me some." 
 
 " Crank," said Clayton, from the sofa, " come here and 
 give me your hand. You have brought me what 1 most 
 longed to see in this world. Now sit down there and tell 
 me all about it. I have heard how you tried to upset that 
 scoundrel at the trial, but I want to hear your account of 
 it." 
 
 " Well, you see," he answered, uneasily, " I ain't bin 
 altogether what ye'd call a good sort of a man ; but 
 p'r'aps that's my bringin' up, p'r'aps I ain't so very far 
 from the averidge." 
 
 " Very likely," said Clayton, smiling reassuringly. 
 
 " Well, yer see, I needed money pretty bad, and I 
 ihort if Hawks wanted to git back his nigger, which 
 was his own property, I was willin' to lend er hand — 
 and so — yer see — he gave me considerable monev, an I 
 didn't take all the wickedness of it in till I seed 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 1 23 
 
 this ere little un's piterful face in the court-room, 
 an' I jis broke clown ? Why, Mr Clayton, when she 
 put that little sof han' in mine an' loked so 'pealin' 
 like, I just vowed in my heart that this little chicken 
 should never git in the clutches of that-are ' hawk ' 
 an' so, I out with the truth. How he swore that 
 he'd 'throw her in ther ice ef some one didn't kotch 
 her, an' how he heaved her high in ther air, an' a 
 tall man on shore kotched her on the fly.' That fel- 
 ler Hawks looked as though he'd murder me when 
 I sed this, but he smoothed it over to the jedge 
 by takin' a paper outer his pocket. ' There,' said 
 he 'is the bill-of-sale of the mother and chile.' 
 
 " Are you sure he said the mother and child. 
 Crank } " 
 
 " Yes, sir, he said jis them words. ' It seems to 
 be all reg'lar,' said the jedge, ' an' you had a right 
 ter do what yer pleased with the young un.' Well, 
 when I seed how things was a goin' and heerd the 
 screams of that baby as she was kerried off, I jis' slunk 
 away and got on the steamer, down with the boxes 
 and bar'ls in the hold and got my passage as a stow- 
 away on the same steamer with that nigger trader 
 and child. I kep well out o' his way, for I knowed 
 he'd murder me, but I went on shore at Jefferson 
 City after dark and tracked 'im to Mrs Hunter's, 
 his sister's, house. He lef the young un thar, an' 
 I watched her sittin' so sorrowful in ther yard 
 with the little niggers, an' the little thing 'membered 
 me bein' in ther court house that day and knowed 
 I was her friend, and she jist clung to me in a 
 way to make yer heart ache. So when news come 
 that Tom Hawks was shot I told the young un' ef 
 she'd creep thro' the fence we'd try an' fin' Mr. Clay- 
 ton down to St. Charles. So she picked up an ol' 
 sun-bonnet an' put it on her head an' then we went 
 down to the steamer. At Booneville I went on shore 
 with the child to buy her a pair o' shoes, but some- 
 how we got pushed off by the crowd in gittin' aboard 
 agin, an' the new shoes an ol' sun-bonnet was lost 
 in the water. An' that's jest all ther' is about it. 
 An' of course it's nat'ral for her to like you bet- 
 ter'n me, of course — but she kinder took ter me, an' 
 
124 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 it was pleasant ter think somebody cared, yer no — an' 
 I — " Here Crank's feelings got the better of his rhet- 
 oric ; and Clayton said : 
 
 " Cheer up, old fellow ; you've been faithful to this 
 innocent child, and you will never have reason to be 
 sorry for it." 
 
 " But, Mr. Clayton, please don't sen' me 'way f'om her. 
 She's the only livin' crittur that's fon' o' me, an' when 
 she holds onter my finger with her little sof han' I could 
 go throo fire for ter serve her if 'twas necessary." 
 
 "By George, I believe you would. And we'll see what 
 can be done." And Frank tried to move the head of the 
 now sleeping child into a more comfortable position. 
 She was exhausted with the excitements of the day, and 
 the pretty, unconscious face bore pitiful traces of the 
 rough usage of the last few months. 
 
 " Poor darling," said her protector. "Where can she 
 go ; where will she be safe ? " 
 
 He thought of Kate, and was inclined to make the 
 proposition that Petrel should share the nursery of her 
 own little girl, Katrina Fletcher, so nearly the same age. 
 But then, he thought, — "Bernard is such a bear, and " — 
 he wanted to use a stronger term — " he would be sure 
 to object." He was quite aware of the tragic sor- 
 rows which had so altered the course of his cousin's 
 life, but had no suspicion of Petrel's association with 
 that sad story, and did not suspect that in entertain- 
 ing this project he was venturing on a very thin crust 
 over volcanic fires ! 
 
 " Kate would be just the one," he thought, " to love 
 and train this gentle creature," And his hands fondly 
 caressed the clustering curls. 
 
 Finally his decision was taken ; it seemed as if 
 the Catholic Mission, in Kansas, would, all consid- 
 ered, be the best and safest refuge. He decided that 
 Petrel must receive the care and education befitting 
 the position he intended to give her. Those kind 
 sisters would spare no pains, he knew, to make her 
 happy ; and perhaps he could manage to have Crank 
 employed in some capacity and thus reward the fel- 
 low's fidelity and devotion to Petrel. 
 
 All was arranged happily. The late " Crank " was 
 now "Tom Smith," gardener and man-of-all-work at 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 1 25 
 
 the Convent. Clayton gave instructions that no expense 
 must be spared in the Httle girl's education and that 
 she must be surrounded by everything that would de- 
 velop love for the beautiful, the good and the true. 
 
 Of course the parting with "Uncle Frank" was 
 another strain on the little heart ; but an atmosphere 
 of love and tender care soon healed the wound, and 
 a romp in the garden every day, where Tom filled 
 her little basket with flowers, was not without its 
 consolations. Sister Agnes, to whose special care she 
 was consigned, soon occupied a large place in the 
 loving nature of the child. 
 
CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 It was with a thankful heart that Clayton recited 
 to Duvall, on the day of his return to Lawrence, 
 the strange and exciting events which led up to the 
 rescue of Petrel. 
 
 "You did well," said his friend with approval; 
 " you were very wise to place the leetle maid with 
 those good ladies. Ah ! what a refuge has our Church 
 for all kinds of deestress ! " 
 
 " Yes, I knew you would approve of that," said Frank, 
 laughing. " You know, Duvall, although I am something 
 of a heretic myself, I like to encourage right belief 
 and faith in others, I think it is a blessed thing 
 and, God knows, I do not wish to implant a germ 
 of doubt in the soul of another, when it has been 
 such a tormenting guest in my own." 
 
 "That ees ze trouble wiz your Protestantism," said 
 Duvall, impetuously. " When one wanders from the 
 faith Catholique, the door ees left open and what you call 
 vagarees come to rush een. Philosophique — scientifique — 
 all verra well, verra interesting" {eentaresting he said) 
 "I like them m}3elf — these speculations — but not like ze 
 consolations of religion." 
 
 '' You are right, quite right," said Frank smiling ; " and 
 I like to hear you defend your own faith, which no doubt 
 you love quite as much as you do your country." 
 
 "Ah! my countree ! my beautiful countree ! " said 
 Claude, rapturously. " Mr Clayton, do you know the 
 longing which sometimes envelopes my soul to see it ? 
 But you cannot. How can you understand unless you 
 know all ! " 
 
 Claude had never before spoken so freely of himself. 
 Frank watched him as he paced the fioor, with intense de- 
 sire to ask him why he was here — what circumstances had 
 made him exile himself from what he so loved. 
 
 " Duval!/' he said earnestly, placing his hand affec- 
 tionately on the handsome youth's shoulder, "Claude, 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 12? 
 
 you are very dear to me, and whenever you can trust me 
 with this I shall be glad." 
 
 The dark eyes were moist now. " You make me play 
 the woman, Frank. My heart would many times break in 
 this strange land — all so different from my own — did I 
 not have your friendship. Yes, my friend, some day I will 
 tell you. But it ees a dark story — to make you weep, not 
 to amuse ; and you have your own troubles and need not 
 more." 
 
 Frank pressed his hand in unspoken sympathy ; and 
 the entrance of Mr. Brown changed the current of con- 
 versation. 
 
 Capt. Brown listened with eager interest to the story 
 Frank had to tell, and at the conclusion uttered a heart- 
 felt "God be thanked!" 
 
 " The hand of Providence is apparent in finding the 
 child; you were led — evidently led — to that spot, at that 
 very moment. Do you not see it ! " 
 
 " It did seem almost a miracle," said Frank, evasively. 
 
 The eyes look into his with a sad earnestness from 
 under the heavy overhanging brows, as John Brown said : 
 " My dear young man, why do you not recognize this 
 over-ruling care ? I am grieved to see you, so admirable 
 in most respects, yet lacking this one thing." 
 • " What can I do ? " said Frank, 
 
 " Cease groping in the light of human reason and open 
 your heart to this illumination of the spirit which is here," 
 said he, with a sweep of his arm, "here all about you. 
 Abandon that cold philosophy of yours." 
 
 " But, my dear friend," said Frank, " I cannot compel 
 belief. I can utter the last part of the Publican's prayer : 
 ' Help Thou my ?<;«-belief ; ' but not the first. If I said 
 " Lord, I believe," I would lie ; and if He is a God of 
 truth, He would be sorry to hear me say it." Then he 
 added earnestly : " Mr. Brown, I am not indifferent to this 
 subject. If what you believe is true, I want to believe it. 
 He knows better than I can tell Him how earnestly I seek 
 the truth, I once had your simple faith and was happy in 
 it, I had been taught that the Heavenly Father was to 
 man as his earthly parent to his infant state. Then when 
 I learned the awful weight of human misery I asked 
 myself, ' Can this be a loving father, who has the power 
 to prevent this suffering, and does not ? One of two 
 
128 THE STORMY PETREL, 
 
 things must be : either he is not all-powerful, or he is 7iot 
 a loving father.' Then the belief grew within me that the 
 Creator is like His creatures and like them subject to law. 
 Our infant minds once conceived the earthly parent to be 
 all you ascribe to the Heavenly Father, but in after-life 
 learned that the parents were only a little wiser and more 
 powerful than ourselves and were subject to the same laws 
 which govern us. The God of law says, ' I am not above 
 the law, but of the law and subject to its operations, and 
 obey its mandates. Seek thou me through the law, and 
 come thou to me nearer and nearer, upward and ever on- 
 ward.' I know well that good comes from working and 
 waiting, holding yourself ready to move forward in the 
 path where duty points." 
 
 " No, Mr. Clayton, your cold reasoning only obscures 
 the face of the Heavenly Father from your vision. His 
 eye is ever en you, His loving hand guides and directs 
 your steps, and He smiles at your doubts, and will, in His 
 own good time, bring you to see His love, power and 
 glor}', in some great work that could not be brought about 
 by law and philosophy." 
 
 " May I be permitted?" said Duvall. '''' Pardon, mon- 
 sieurs, mais c'est vrai. That is so true, — to believe, that 
 is the only rest for the soul. As your beautiful poet has 
 said, 'Our's not to reason why.' " 
 
 " Well," said Frank laughing, " with you, Mr. Brown, 
 and Tennyson against me, I suppose I must surren- 
 der." 
 
 " Ah, mon cher, si vous etiez " 
 
 "Now, Claude," interrupted Clayton, " you are not a 
 Frenchman, Why will you insist upon speaking French 
 rather than English ? " 
 
 " Because, monsieur, in Europe it is the common 
 medium in which all the educated people exchange ideas. 
 Are you not just a leetle narrow — prejudiced ? You find 
 the English language, the English people, the best in the 
 world, eh .? " 
 
 " Well, my dear fellow, with all due respect for the an- 
 tiquity of the Latin races, I confess the Anglo-Saxon does 
 seem to me the one destined to rule the earth in the future. 
 You Latins ought to be satisfied," said he, laying his 
 hand caressingly on his friend's shoulder, " you have had 
 vour turn ; now it is ours. And it seems to me that the 
 
tHE STORMY PETREL. I29 
 
 English-speaking races will hold a peculiar ascendancy in 
 the ages to come." 
 
 If Claude had felt any irritation, it melted beneath the 
 magnetism of Frank's touch, and he did not dispute the 
 claim for Anglo-Saxon supremacy. 
 
 After the little diversion, there was a pause, which was 
 at length broken by Capt. Brown, who said : 
 
 "And this is the second time you have snatched that 
 child from drowning." 
 
 " Yes," said Frank. " It would seem as if some malig- 
 nant fates were luring her down into the dark waters. I 
 have a dread a sort of premonition that she will perish in 
 that way." 
 
 The old man looked at him silently a moment and then 
 said, impressively : 
 
 "Premonitions are strange things, strange, very strange 
 things. I have had them myself — but — our business is 
 with the present, not the future. Things here are assum- 
 ing a very serious shape, Clayton. Several prominent 
 citizens have been indicted for offenses, and warrants are 
 out for their arrest. Anticipating resistance, the United 
 States troops and the militia have been ordered to aid the 
 civil authorities in the execution of the legal processes. 
 Bands of Missourians are camped about ready to pounce 
 upon us the moment this crew of thieves and scoundrels, 
 brought here by Sheriff Jones and Governor Shannon, 
 shall sound the charge." 
 
 "Well, from what I have seen of the defences in prep- 
 aration, I fancy they will not be in a hurry to storm the 
 town." 
 
 "The danger is not from the militia so much as the 
 United States troops," answered the captain. "You see 
 they obey orders, as well against the right as the wrong. 
 Friends and foes are unknown to machines like the 
 United States soldiers." 
 
 "Yes," said Frank, thoughtfully, "that is the danger; 
 the United States troops ^'il! be the Trojan horse, under 
 cover of which this mob of border ruffians will gain ac- 
 cess to and then destroy this inoffensive town." 
 
 "That's preciselv it," said Brown. "Only to-day the 
 Committee of Safety decided to allow the United States 
 marshal and the sheriff, with posses of United States 
 soldiers, to enter the town and arrest any citizens for 
 
130 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 whom he has warrants, I protested against such a course, 
 believing, as you suggest, that the mob will follow the 
 army, and once safely in possession and power, God 
 knows what they will do." 
 
 "Yet, Captain, you must not forget that Governor 
 Robinson and his committee of citizens, as you tell me, 
 must either pursue this course, or else resist the United 
 States troops and civil authorities, which is no light re- 
 sponsibility, and would entail dire consequences to the 
 Free State cause in Kansas. I think they have acted 
 wisely." 
 
 " Mr. Clayton, in the sight of God wrong always is 
 wrong, and He is quite able to take care of consequences 
 if His children shall bravely do their duty." 
 
 " But what course would you- advise ? " 
 
 " I would have the sheriff present his writs of arrest, 
 and make demand for the offenders named therein. 
 Then I would call upon these citizens to come forward 
 and surrender, even to the demands of unjust laws. Thus 
 would the semblance of legal right of entrance be de- 
 stroyed, and if the mob persisted after this in forcing in- 
 gress, I should resist to the last drop of blood; and I 
 believe in my heart, in such a cause God can and would 
 give victory to the right, in the face of ten times the odds 
 that now exist." 
 
 " Now, you will pardon me for saying that I think some 
 things impossible to God, and that it is a well-established 
 jDrinciple in war, that ' He gives victory to the heaviest 
 ordnance,' and that we must not hazard all on the justice 
 of our cause." 
 
 " God commands us, Mr. Clayton, ' to resist evil and it 
 shall flee from us.' If I obey this command in the face 
 of all danger, He will, in His own good way, give the vic- 
 tory to the right." 
 
 " Begging your pardon again. Captain, I think as I 
 stated before, that God is a God of law, and He com- 
 mands us to know the law, and we know Him in propor- 
 tion as we learn the law." 
 
 " My dear Captain," added Frank, rising, and laughing 
 good-naturedly, "I'm afraid you think, as my friend Du- 
 vall here does, that I'm a sad renegade." 
 
 Duvall, always awed into silence by the presence of 
 Captam Brown, only waved his hand deprecatingly, a ges- 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 131 
 
 ture which, if translated, would have meant, "Whatever 
 you believe, you are the best of men and dearest of 
 friends." 
 
 After taking leave of the old man, the two younger men 
 sauntered to the hotel. 
 
 "That is one grand figure heroique,'' said Claude, en- 
 thusiastically. 
 
 "Some people do not so describe him," said Frank, 
 dryly. 
 
 Duvall always took refuge in French when his feelings 
 overflowed the limits of his English. 
 
 "Bah! Que sonf-i/s? Betes.' I see always around 
 his head a shining aureola — like a saint." 
 
 "Then you do not consider him a crank ? " Frank said, 
 with apparent seriousness. 
 
 '"'' Excusez-inoi, monsieur; mais I hear often this word, 
 'crank.' 1 look for it in my dictionnaire, and I find it 
 not. Please have the goodness to tell me what means this 
 word ' crank.' " 
 
 Frank's laugh rang out loud and merrily on the silent 
 street. His friend's grave question was so comical. 
 
 " Well, ril tell you what it means, Claude. A man 
 who does not think as other people do is a crank." 
 
 " Ah, yes, I see," said his friend. " Well, this Meester 
 Brown he certainement does not think the same like other 
 people ; so they are quite right — he is a crank. And 
 you, monsieur," said he, with a droll twinkle, "■/I'est-ce pas 
 que vous aussi — are you not also a leetle bit of a crank ? '' 
 
 Frank laughed more heartily than before, and con- 
 fessed that he might be so considered, and was not sorry 
 to be so classified, inasmuch as the mechanical world was 
 moved by cranks, and the moral and religious world was 
 in a semi-stagnant and almost decomposing state in refus- 
 ing to be so turned forward. 
 
CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 Frank and the caplaiii had arranged to leave the town 
 early the next morning, neither feeling that he could wit- 
 ness the scenes which would probably accompany the 
 entree of the troops. Accordingly, at an early hour the 
 two men might have been seen walking up the bank of the 
 Kansas River, until they reached a raised plateau some 
 few miles above I<awrence, where they halted and turned 
 about to take a look at that devoted city which both felt 
 to be doomed. Gazing intently, the captain pointed his 
 finger in the direction of Mount Oread and asked in a 
 deep tone of his comjoanion : 
 
 " Tell me what you see there with your glass ? " 
 
 After careful scrutiny, the young man replied : 
 
 " A motley crowd, half soldiers ; the rest look like 
 bandits. There seem to be flags of all colors and clans, 
 and — no — not one — not one of the United States in 
 sight." 
 
 '' Clayton," said the captain, " I came all the way from 
 my home at Ossawatomie and brought with with me three 
 of my boys and several of my neighbors to aid the people 
 of Lawrence in averting this humiliation, and, as I believe, 
 this impending disaster, and they have denied me the 
 pleasure of performing this duty. The responsibility rests 
 with them. I have done my part." 
 
 All day long these two men walked and talked in sight 
 of this hateful band and its helpless victims in the valley 
 below. 
 
 Late in the afternoon, when like a serpent it began to 
 wend its way clown the hill and encircle with its venomous 
 coil this quiet hamlet, Captain Brown rose from the 
 commanding seat he and his companion had long occu- 
 pied in silence. 
 
 " Come, Clayton, I can not be further witness to this 
 desecration." 
 
 And the two men walked as before in silence, to a point 
 where the city was obscured, and yet the house of Gov. 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 ^33 
 
 Robinson as well as the humble cabin of Clayton were 
 plainly discernible against the southern sky, off beyond 
 Mount Oread and the green fringe of timber skirting the 
 Waukarusa River. 
 
 Late in the afternoon, Clayton observed the sky assume 
 a lurid hue over and about Lawrence, and said : 
 
 " Captain, I see our worst fears are being realized, as 
 yonder blood-stained sky is ample and cruel proof." 
 
 "Hark, do you hear that cannon ? " inquired Captain 
 Brown, springing to his feet. " Can it be there is at last, 
 when too late, resistance to the fiendish mob by the 
 citizens ? " And again the thunder of the distant cannon 
 shook the ledge of rocks upon which the two listening men 
 stood. 
 
 " Run, Clayton, with your glass, scan the situation, and 
 see if there is aught that looks like defence ; for God 
 knows I would rather perish with them in a hopeless 
 resistance than share this shameful humiliation without a 
 blow at its wicked authors ! " 
 
 Soon, Clayton was upon the eminence from which they 
 had so recently retreated, sweeping the valley with his 
 glass to ascertain the source of the strife. 
 
 Before him lay the once prosperous town of Lawrence 
 and the peaceful valley about it, now in the coils of a 
 drunken and debased mob who, with hearts full of hate and 
 brains on fire with drink, were burning houses and robbing 
 the people. Helpless women with babes in their arms 
 were fleeing from the minions of slavery, maddened to 
 deeds of desperation. The cannon could be seen planted 
 in front and aimed at the Free State Hotel, manned by 
 men too drunk even to hit so large a mark, making merry 
 over each discharge of ordnance. 
 
 "O God, what a sight!" exclaimed Clayton, lowering 
 Ills glass, and slowly retracing his steps to where Captain 
 Brown stood watching him with eager eyes. Looking in 
 the direction of Mt. Oread, he observed the red tongue of 
 fire shootimg up from Governor Robinson's house, and 
 thought, "Yes, I expected that; and mine too," as his 
 eye took in his owai cabin in flames. 
 
 The conflagration grew brighter as the shades of 
 approaching night set in and scores of fires sprang up in 
 every direction, as the enemy, like a serpent, unwound its 
 folds from the ashes and ruins of the fallen citv, and re- 
 
134 THE SrORMY PETREL. 
 
 treated from its work of devastation, leaving a fiery track 
 behind. 
 
 " Yes, yes, I see," said the old man, rising and stretch- 
 ing himself to the full height of his heroic manhood. With 
 his right hand resting upon the sword-hilt, he shaded his 
 eyes with the left: gazing intently in all directions upon 
 the illumined sky, he burst forth into what seemed a 
 prayer of consecration : " May God strengthen my arm 
 to avenge this dastardly act of desecration, as He did that 
 of David and of Joshua ! " 
 
 On the following morning Captain Brown joined his 
 sons and neighbors at Palmyra, and with a single com- 
 panion returned to Ossawatomie in all haste, in answer 
 to a special messenger from home, while the people of 
 Lawrence proceeded to repair as well as possible the 
 devastation of the preceding day. 
 
 The Free State Hotel was pillaged and then burned. 
 The ofifices of the two newspapers, Herald of Freedom 
 and Free Fress," were looted, presses broken and type 
 tlirown into the street. Many of the most prominent 
 business houses and dwellings were robbed and some de- 
 stroyed by fire. Men and women moved about as in a 
 city of the dead. 
 
 On his arrival at home that afternoon, the captain was 
 visited by a negro man, and the following conversation 
 ensued : 
 
 " Yer see, Mars Cap'n, I done heah dem mighty bad men 
 down in Missouri ,vhar I come from callin' on yo name, an' 
 I said to myself, dey doan got any lub for de old Cap'n, 
 an' Jim, you can jis well listen ter what dey gwinter say. 
 Well, bress yer lite, dey tell how dey make all deir 'range- 
 ment to hab a messenger man wat would bring dem to 
 yer house an' to de oder Yankees' house in de middle ob 
 de night ; an' den dey gwinter to kill de las' one o' you. 
 Now, Mars Cap'n, yer better not be ter home when dey 
 comes, case dey gwine to hurt you suah null now. Jim 
 knows dem men mighty sight better'n yo' does. 
 
 Captain Brown sat, an attentive listener to what Jim 
 was relating, and finally asked : 
 
 " Did you learn, Jim, when the men propose to make 
 tliis visit ? " 
 
 "Yes, sah. Mars Cap'n. I done got all de 'ticlars 
 ob dem fellers; but dey an't gwine ter pay yer no visit. 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 135 
 
 No, sail. Dey is gwine to come wid big knives and deir 
 guns all loaded with buckshot to kill yer suah nuff. An' 
 dey is comin' dis berry night ; case I heard deni say dey 
 gwinter git a letter from de man what is ter meet dam at 
 de ribber crossin' 'cisely at dark, an' he's gwine ter p'int 
 out der Yankees dat's got ter be killed. All deir frien's 
 'bout heah gwine ter stay close ter home on dat night. 
 I tell yer. Case dey say dey can't do de killin' an' ba to 
 home bofe at de same time. So dey got suah, what dey 
 call er Albi. 
 
 "You are sure, Jim, the place of meeting was at the 
 crossing ? " 
 
 '' Yes, sah, on dis side de ribber an' 'cisely at dusk." 
 
 After some further conversation, Jim rose to leave, and 
 as he did so, the captain took his hand cordially and said : 
 
 "God bless and reward you, Jim for your noble deed, 
 as I am not able to do. And if it were not for your 
 family that, you say, compels your return, I could show 
 and aid you to freedom. Remember this, Jim, if ever 
 j^ou need a friend and I can be that one, call on me. All 
 that I have is at your service, for you have saved my life 
 and that of my friends. 
 
 "Thanks, Mars Cap'n, Jim done got he pay already 
 in 'lowin' dese eyes ter see yer and dis heah han' ter tuck 
 yourn, an' to heah de voice what scare so many ob dam 
 bad men in talkin' 'bout de freedom ob da niggers as dey 
 says. Now, Mars Cap'n, yer gwinter be on de look-out 
 fer dem men what's comin' ter kill yer? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, Jim, they will not find us asleep ; be assured 
 of that." 
 
 An old-fashioned clock struck three as Jim closed the 
 door to hurry back to slavery. 
 
 John Brown sat thinking for some time, tired as he was 
 from his long day's ride. Finally he said to his faithful 
 companion, who had been a silent spectator and auditor 
 during Jim's wonderful story: 
 
 "Hal, what shall we do in this matter ?" 
 
 Hal, who was one of those mercurial men who think 
 and act with the rapidity of lightning, said : 
 
 " Captain, if you will trust me with this affair, I'll 
 promise to turn it to good account for all of us. Can you 
 do it ? " 
 
136 THE STORMY PETREL, 
 
 "Yes, Hal, I have trusted you before and you never 
 failed me ; I will leave all to your management." 
 
 On this same evening, as the sun sank Lelow the west- 
 ern horizon, a solitary horseman rode up to the crossing 
 of the Osage River and, after making a careful exami- 
 nation of the surroundings, he turned his horse's head in 
 the direction of the dense forest that skirted the stream, 
 and rode out of sight. 
 
 Soon emerging on foot at the edge of the clearing, 
 called the crossing, he carefully concealed himself in a 
 clump of bushes that surrounded the base of a large 
 walnut-tree. Half an hour passed, and the shades of 
 night were beginning to gather, as another horseman rode 
 boldly up to the river's edge. He gave a shrill whistle 
 and then sat listening to the echo that sounded and re- 
 sounded through the still forest. 
 
 After some moments, an immense owl overhead, hooted 
 long and loud, and the horseman involuntarily put his 
 hand to his hat as if to keep it in place. 
 
 " D — n that owl ! " he ejaculated. " I always did h;ite 
 them. They make me think of graveyards and ghosts. 
 1 hope his note is not one of warning to turn back 
 from this accursed business. I could kill the old 
 captain in a hand-to-hand affair, but to steal on him 
 like a thief and murder him in bed or at the door with 
 wife and children round — I detest it. However, I'm 
 in for it, now — only as guide, though ; their blood is not 
 on my head or hands either," as he held them up, scan- 
 ning them by the dim light, and then dismounted. 
 
 He had little more than touched the ground, when a 
 stern voice from behind him said : 
 
 " Surrender, you are my prisoner ! IMove a hand, and 
 you die." 
 
 " My God, is that you, Hal ? " — " Yes, Bob, I am here." 
 
 Bob looked over his shoulder to see a heavy dragoon 
 revolver in the hands of his worst enemy, cocked and 
 pointed directly at him. 
 
 " Hal, what do you want with me ? " 
 
 " I want the letter you have, and d d quick, for it 
 
 grows late." 
 
 " That letter ? " asked Bob, with a start. " What do 
 you mean ? I have no letter." 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. I37 
 
 " Yes, you have, Bob, and you are now trifling with 
 time when death hangs trembling in the balance at your 
 threshold. Give me that letter without turning around, 
 or I'll put a ball through you on the spot. Come now, 
 this minute," and Hal's voice fairly vibrated with deep 
 desperation. Bob saw that the moment had come when 
 a decisive blow must be struck ; and he said with a feeble 
 effort to laugh : 
 
 " Well, Hal, you may have the damn thing. I see our 
 secret is given away. Only spare my life, and I'll tell 
 you all." 
 
 Then raising his hand as if to produce the letter, he 
 grasped his revolver, and with a spring like a cat, he 
 leaped to the right and turned about-face, drawing his 
 revolver as he did so. 
 
 Two loud reports, so near together as almost seemed 
 one, broke the dusky stillness, while the owl flapped his 
 wings and flew hooting and screaming away. 
 
 The aim of Bob had been wild, and the ball from his 
 revolver merely grazed the coat of Hal, who, on the alert 
 for his man, had sent a bullet through his heart, and Bob 
 f jII forward, a lifeless corpse. 
 
 Hastily possessing himself of the coveted letter, Hal 
 dragged the body into the thick woods, leading his horse 
 after him, as he kicked the dust and sand over the fresh 
 blood. 
 
 Hal soon returned and sat upon his horse, waiting 
 events. He had not long to wait, for by the dim light 
 of the rapidly expiring day, six men were soon descried 
 riding down the opposite bank. As soon as they were 
 across, Hal rode up to them and said : 
 
 " Were \ ou expecting to meet a guide here ? " 
 
 " Well, yes, we were expecting a messenger from some 
 friend in Kansas," replied the leader. " Did you bring a 
 letter? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, here is a letter from Henry " 
 
 " Never mind who it's from, partner, give me the letter." 
 
 After reading it, by the dim light, he turned to his 
 companions and said : 
 
 " It's all right, boys, and this is Bob, our guide." 
 
 Noiselessly the men took up their march of death ; and 
 on the way, Hal rode up to the leader, and said : 
 
 "Captain, I am instructed to say 'Allow no parleying. 
 
138 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 Least said, soonest mended. Short, sharp work, and re- 
 turn ' — you understand ? " 
 
 " I think I do, young man," responded the captain, 
 laconically. 
 
 Shortly after twelve o'clock that night, the men sur- 
 rounded the house of . One, a tall, powerful man, 
 
 knocked at the door, and then withdrew a few feet. Soon 
 the door was opened by a man, holding in his hand a 
 lighted candle, which he raised so as to shade his eyes, 
 and asked : 
 
 " Who is there ? " 
 
 A low, soft whistle from Hal was the signal for a vol- 
 ley that riddled the victim, extinguishing the light and 
 spark of life at one blow. 
 
 Hastily remounting, the men rode silently to the house 
 of • — — — , not far away, where the knock was repeated 
 and answered as before. Hal's signal whistle sounded 
 ere the man could ask if friend or foe had called. 
 
 In quick succession three more charges of buckshot 
 were sent hurtling through the darkness, scoring one 
 more victim, fallen in his own trap. 
 
 Another and another followed, until the plotters, with 
 Bob, their tool, slept the long sleep that knows no waking; 
 the last two victims being literally hacked to pieces with 
 knives, instead of being sliot like their neighbors. 
 
 Thus was buried in the graves of the dead men, and 
 the bosoms of two of the living, the secret of the " Potawa- 
 tomie Massacre." 
 
 The assassins rode at great speed back to Missouri, 
 and only learned two days later how they had murdered 
 their friends at the instance of their enemies. 
 
 The body of Bob, the messenger, though found, was 
 never recognized, and his horse and pistol enlisted in the 
 Free State cause. 
 
 The enemies of Captain Brown boldly asserted tiiat he 
 was the perpetrator of tlie outrage, to which he deigned 
 no response. His friends could make, therefore, no de- 
 nial. But there was a fearful warning in this ghostly 
 spectacle that seemed to say: 
 
 '' // is a two-edged sivord you men of the South liavc been 
 u si lis:. Beware!''^ 
 
CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 When the convention of the people of Kansas was 
 called to meet at Topeka on the same day that the Free 
 State Legislature was to convene, Clayton, with a large 
 number of his neighbors, was present. Some went armed 
 with rifles, revolvers and swords; others with their simple 
 faith in the protecting care of the United States govern- 
 ment. 
 
 Rumor was current that Colonel Sumner, of the United 
 States army, had said that the soldiers would disperse the 
 Legislature at all hazards, in accordance with acting-Gov- 
 ernor Woodson's proclamation. Some advised resistance 
 to the usurpation, even unto death ; and insisted that if 
 resistance were shown, the soldiers would not fire, or 
 Sumner go beyond the show of executing such a vile 
 scheme. 
 
 So when the people met in Topeka on that memorable 
 day, each man looked into his neighbor's face and sought 
 to measure by some intuitive power, the length and 
 breadth of his purpose. 
 
 Captain Brown was there, boys and neighbors, prepared 
 as before at Lawrence, for resistance, and determined to 
 act in concert with those to whom leadership had been 
 accorded ; but he said to Clayton : 
 
 " I came armed, ready for the worst if it should come." 
 
 When the convention was quietly convened and pro- 
 ceeded to business, the rattle and clanking of sabers and 
 spurs broke in upon the scene, and Colonel Sumner strode 
 to the desk of the secretary, accompanied by an officer of 
 his staff and a deputy United States marshal, and read, 
 with some hesitation and embarrassment, the acting- 
 governor's proclamation commanding the Legislature to 
 disperse, and his own order to enforce this instrument, 
 which " it was his painful and imperative duty to obey." 
 
 When profound silence was his only answer he became 
 embarrassed, and asked if obedience or resistance were 
 contemplated. 
 
140 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 Colonel Sumner was soon informed of his mistake. 
 This was not the Legislature, but a convention of the peo- 
 ple of Kansas, and he and his officers at once withdrew. 
 
 As soon as he had left the hall, Captain Brown, and a 
 few of his followers, were busy in the crowd, counseling 
 the members of the Legislature to make at least a show of 
 resistance. Some few sympathized with this view, but the 
 majority hesitated, and timidly urged submission rather 
 than violence in resisting law. 
 
 Captain Brown and his party were to display in the 
 button-hole of the coat a red string, indicating their pur- 
 pose to resist, even to the shedding of blood. 
 
 When the hour had arrived for the meeting of the Legis- 
 lature, Captain Brown, Frank Clayton, and one or two 
 others, were mingling with the crowd, counting and con- 
 sulting those who displayed the red badge of resistance to 
 oppression. 
 
 " How are we to know what to do .'' Who is to deter- 
 mine our strength ? " said one of the timid. 
 
 " I will," said Captain Brown, " if you will give me two 
 hundred strings with men attached to them. Colonel 
 Sumner will be informed by the Free State Legislature, 
 that we propose to remain in quiet possession of these 
 halls, and peaceably transact the business that brought 
 us here, as the representatives of the people, until we are 
 outnumbered, overpowered, and destroyed by any hostile 
 force that may be brought against us. If we timidly sub- 
 mit, all is lost ; if we heroically resist, we secure Kansas 
 to freemen and freedom.'' 
 
 A careful count showed less than half the number re- 
 quired for successful resistance, and, added to this, was 
 the influence of the members of the Legislature, counsel- 
 ing submission rather than bloodshed. 
 
 In answer, Captain Brown said : 
 
 " Yes. Submit ; and if our fathers had been made of 
 such pliant stuff, we would to-day be paying England duty 
 on tea, and taxes to support a foreign army in our midst." 
 
 Slowly wending their way out of the humiliating scene, 
 John Brown and his followers dispersed to their several 
 homes. 
 
 The days following this were very dark to the lovers of 
 freedom. Many in discouragement, gave up the conflict 
 and returned to the East ; while others resolutely prepared 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. I41 
 
 to fight it out ; and new temporary structures rose out of 
 the ashes of the old, at Lawrence and elsewhere, to meet 
 the rigors of the coming winter. 
 
 On the 14th of August, a detachment of Free State 
 men, took up the line of march from Lawrence for Fort 
 Saunders, where Colonel Gordon was intrenched with his 
 adherents and a large force of Missourians. 
 
 Reinforcements from Topeka met them by the way and 
 the whole command moved on under General Lane, and 
 surrounded the fort on all sides except where a deep and 
 almost impassable ravine protected the flank. Then at a 
 signal for attack Captain Brown gave the order "forward," 
 and as soon as within firing distance with Sharpe's rifles, 
 the command went ringing along the line, " Lie down," 
 and the line of battle disappeared into the prairie grass, 
 while with body concealed, the soldier could take good 
 aim with his rifle. 
 
 Clayton, thinking the order to lie down also the signal 
 for battle, took deliberate aim and sent a ball crashing 
 through the door of the log fort now only about three 
 hundred yards distant. 
 
 The premature shot caused some merriment in the line, 
 and some other desultory firing ensued without any re- 
 sponse from the fort. 
 
 Soon it was discovered that the enemy had evacuated 
 the fort and retreated down a deep rugg^-d ravine in the 
 angle of which the fort was situated, well prutecied on two 
 sides. 
 
 Then a charge was ordered and a running fire kept up 
 between the advance of one force and the rearguard of the 
 retreating one, over rough ground, and under cover of 
 rocky bluffs, brush and thick trees. This lasted until 
 late in the day when a halt was called ; and at this point, 
 a messenger from Captain Walker stated that a very large 
 force of men under Colonel Titus, who was strongly for- 
 tified near Lecomi:)ton, had been down near Lawrence on 
 a raid among the Free State settlers on the night previous. 
 
 At a council of war it was decided to make a rapid march 
 that night and attack Fort Titus early on the following 
 day. 
 
 Midnight found the Free State forces bivouacked on the 
 road from Lawrence toLecompton and within easy strik- 
 ing distance of Fort Titus. During the night, the pickets 
 
142 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 of the two forces fired upon each other, and the border 
 ruffians chased the others into their camp, being much the 
 stronger; and there received a volley from the men who 
 had been sleeping under arms in true soldier style. 
 
 Several horses of the enemy were killed, and some 
 prisoners were taken. The remainder retreated to Fort 
 Titus and gave the alarm, so that, on the following morn- 
 ing, the i6th of August, when the assault was made, the 
 enemy were found in full force and prepared for extraordi- 
 nary defence. But when Captain Bickerton brought his 
 twelve-pound field-piece into position, it spoke in thunder 
 tones to these defiant men with ball made of type from 
 the Free State presses of Lawrence. 
 
 " Thunder on, thou Free State Press, Herald of Free- 
 dom, as thou truly art ! " exclaimed Clayton. " Remove 
 from the face of the earth the stronghold of slavery with 
 the double-leaded editorials ! " adding as the cannon 
 boomed again, "There is an extra issued for your special 
 benefit. Colonel Titus!" 
 
 Boom ! went Captain Bickerton's fourth issue. 
 
 Then he turned to Clayton, who was using the Sharpe's 
 rifle with telling effect, and nodded with a significant wink 
 as he stooped and sighted the piece for the " fifth issue." 
 
 "A little further to the right, Captain," said Clayton. 
 " Hit him between the two centre-ports." 
 
 The captain made no response, but carefully adjusted 
 his piece, and commanded "fire." Instantly the very crest 
 of the hill was obscured by a volume of smoke. 
 
 " A bull's-eye, by the Eternal \" shouted Clayton. 
 
 A breach in the fort was made, which Clayton and his 
 comrades endeavored to fill with rifle-balls.' Titus and 
 several of his men were wounded with splinters from the 
 cannon-shots or the Sharpe's rifle-balls that flew thick and 
 fast against his crumbling stronghold. 
 
 The smoke and din of battle, the dust of rapidly mov- 
 ing cavalry and infantry, the crash of cannon-shot, the 
 bray of the trumpet, the neigh of horses, and the ringing 
 notes of command, — "Right wheel!" "Forward!" 
 " Steady ! " " Charge ! " with the echo and re-echo of the 
 strife combined to make the little valley around Fort Titus 
 a scene of fearful contrast to the beauty of its surround- 
 ings of but a few hours before. 
 
 Soon there flattered out of one of the port-holes a white 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 1 43 
 
 flag, a shirt torn from the bleeduig body of Colonel Titus 
 and suspended from a bayonet amid the shouts of the sol- 
 diery. This was the origin of " waving the bloody shirt." 
 
 Just then a messenger arrived saying that the United 
 States troops were coming out from Lecompton to pre- 
 vent further bloodshed. In great haste, the prisoners 
 were secured, and the Free State men returned to Law- 
 rence in triumph. 
 
 The 17th of August was a proud day for that little city 
 when messengers came from Lecompton asking for a coun- 
 cil and an exchange of prisoners. John Brown, although 
 participating in that council, allowed no word of triumph 
 to escape him at the humiliation of the enemy, nor even 
 at the liberation of the Free State prisoners at Lecompton. 
 All these he accepted with a profound silence. 
 
 Men went back to their homes hoping the battle had 
 been fought and Kansas would be left unmolested. John 
 Brown shared this hope of a regenerated territory, but 
 returned to Ossawatomie to "watch as well as pray." 
 
CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 The watching and praying were unavailing, for not 
 many weeks later Ossawatomie was attacked by a band 
 of ruffians, and although stoutly defended by Brown with 
 a little band of forty men, of whom three were his own 
 sons, was burned to the ground, and his son Frederick 
 killed and brutally mutilated. 
 
 Governor Geary who had recently been appointed, was ac- 
 tive in trying to prevent further collisions between the con- 
 tending factions, and attended by United States troops, 
 he was visiting, urging and commanding both parties to dis- 
 band and return to their several homes and occupations. 
 
 Under pretence of obedience to the governor's orders 
 several bands of the border ruffians marched away and 
 attacked unsuspecting settlers, killing and burning as they 
 went. 
 
 Some of these men entrenched themselves at Hickory 
 Point, from which place they made predatory attacks 
 upon the surrounding country, and defied the governor's 
 orders. 
 
 Two detachments of Free State men, mostly of the 
 Stubb's company and Cabbott Guard of Lawrence, under 
 Major Harvey, on 'the the 13th of September, marched 
 from Lawrence to the fort and took the whole force pris- 
 oners after two hours, hard fighting. On his march back 
 to Lawrence, Harvey was surprised by Captain Cook's 
 command of United States cavalry, and all were made pris- 
 oners. Captain Cook liberated the border ruffian prisoners 
 held by Harvey and retained the Free State men in cus- 
 tody and turned them over to Colonel Titus, who now 
 was in command of the militia at Lecompton. 
 
 Early on Sunday morning, the 14th of September, Cap- 
 tain Brown and six men rode into Lawrence and startled 
 the citizens by informing them that a large force of Mis- 
 sourians were marching on that town with the avowed 
 purpose of' destroying it, and that every available man 
 ought at once be armed to meet and resist them. 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 145 
 
 Great was the commotion at the news among old and 
 young, women and children. Captain Brown was asked 
 to take, and accepted, command of the forces. Clayton 
 with ten men was placed in the rocky walls or breast- 
 works crowning the heights of Mount Oread, with strict 
 orders to surrender only with his own life and the lives of 
 his men ; others were placed at different points on the out- 
 skirts of the town in squads of ten. Permission was 
 given Clayton to take such of the men as had Sharpe's 
 rifles and join the force on the plain south of the town, 
 but not to be drawn too far from the fort. 
 
 Thus stood the beleaguered little town when the sun 
 began its western descent to the horizon. Then a faint 
 line of haze was discovered, forming a gray streak on the 
 blue sky beyond Franklin in the direction of the Missouri 
 border, from whence the attack was expected. 
 
 Captain Brown rode rapidly along his line of battle in 
 the grass (though his whole force amounted to only a line 
 of pickets) encouraged each man to stand firm and only to 
 fall back to the town as a last resort. 
 
 Approaching Clayton he said : 
 
 " From the length of that gray streak of dust, it looks 
 as though they were coming in force. You must not be led 
 too far from your support there, for that breast-work may 
 become a very important point." 
 
 Captain Sam Walker, Murat-like, with all the mounted 
 men, had dashed out to meet the enemy's advance 
 and were now engaged at long range near Franklin, and 
 the ringing reports of the Sharpe's rifles could be distinctly 
 heard in the distance, answered occasionally by the 
 louder and fuller response of the shot-gun or musket with 
 which the border ruffians were armed. 
 
 Soon, the advance guard of the enemy consisting of 
 five hundred cavalry, came down the slopes in line of bat- 
 tle with their skirmishers thrown well in front, driving 
 Captain Walker's little band before them and the ominous 
 and increasing nearness of these shots horrified the 
 women and children in the seemingly doomed little 
 town. 
 
 A volley from a cornfield where Captain Brown had 
 posted some of his men, threw the enemy into great confu- 
 sion, dismounting and wounding several of thern. Thej' 
 had evidently not calculated well the range of the Sharpe's 
 
146 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 rifles, and the rapidity with which the bullets came, gave 
 evidence of a much larger force than really existed. 
 
 The enemy's cavalry, though in great confusion, kept 
 advancing. The firing all along the line was now gen- 
 eral ; riderless horses were running wildly about, throwing 
 everything in disorder. It soon became evident to the 
 enemy thai these horsemen could never break through that 
 line of fire and smoke impelling its swift and deadly mes- 
 sengers. Casting their glances backward for the expected 
 reinforcements that came not, the whole force in a helter- 
 skelter retreat got over the brow of the hill and back to 
 Franklin. 
 
 So, for some unexplained reason, this handful of brave 
 men kept twenty-seven hundred Missourians quite at bay 
 until midnight ; when the United States troops from 
 Lecompton reached Mount Oread, and were welcomed by 
 Clayton and his men who held the fort. 
 
 These troops had been fifteen hours marching twelve 
 miles, under the most urgent request that could be framed 
 by unprotected citizens I Was this delay for the benefit 
 of the border ruffians or the people of Lawrence? inquir- 
 ing minds will ask. 
 
 Captain Brown rode up and turned the command of the 
 defence of Lawrence over to the United States officer in 
 charge. 
 
 "Where is the enemy we are brought here to check on 
 his road to carnage ? " asked the officer, sneeringly. 
 
 " Sir," said Captain Brown, " if you look over there 
 (pointing to the hundreds of camp-fires plainly visible 
 from where they stood,) you will find answer to your ques- 
 tion. And now will you be kind enough to detail a guard 
 and relieve the citizens who have been on duty since early 
 morning ? " 
 
 Captain Brown then pointed out the strong places he 
 had guarded, and the men on duty were relieved. 
 
CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 Claude Duvall was compelled to go to the East and 
 South upon important private business of his own ; but 
 Frank's frequent letters kept him fully informed of the 
 flow of events in Kansas; and Claude felt almost like a 
 deserter at leaving his friend alone in such troublous times 
 — the whole Territory in a condition of tumult and alarm 
 — collisions, and even victories, seeming to accomplish 
 little. Winter was approaching, and thousands of brave 
 fellows had not resources even to fight its rigors, and 
 hence must bear the present ills until Spring had re- 
 cruited their forces, and then renew the conflict. 
 
 John Brown's domestic sorrows, added to the other 
 trouble, had broken him sadly. His home and his family 
 were wrecked. Fire, sword and the plowshare of grief 
 had left little of a once happy circle. All the energy of his 
 mind now seemed turned upon one object, upon which he 
 pondered night and day — that was, aiding slaves to 
 escape into freedom. It was a perilous undertaking to 
 get off one of these parties of fugitives ; but he engaged 
 in it with a kind of reckless energy. 
 
 Just at this time a negro came to him, introducing him- 
 self as Jim. 
 
 " You disremember me. Mars Captain," said the fellow 
 with a curious twinkle, " don't yer reklect Jim what come 
 to tole you bout de men what wuz comin' to kill yer dat 
 night ? '"' 
 
 " Why, Jim ! " exclaimed the captain, much moved and 
 clasping his hand. 
 
 " Yes, sah ; it is me for sartain. I dun heard about you 
 over in Missouri, an I sez ' I know Mars Brown ain't gwin- 
 ter let dem take me down to Texas.' We all ob us, 
 mo'n a dozen, belongs ter de young missus, an' she's berry 
 sick an' gwinter die ; an' if she do, she say we're all a 
 gwinter be free. Now, de young mars, he gwinter sen' us 
 off ter Texas 'fo she die, so dat nobody can fin' us to gib 
 us freedom. Nigh as I can I'arn, deys gwinter start us off 
 sometime nex' week an' w'at we's gwinter do mus be did 
 
148 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 mighty quick, Cap'n. Well, Mars Cap'n, I ses to my ole 
 'oman, I sez : 'Don cry, honey; Mars Brown h'ell come 
 and car us off to Kansas — suah — case he sed as how he 
 would help dis yer nigger ef ebber he need it ; and we do 
 need it now mighty bad, an' no mistake. ' " 
 
 The next day Frank received a message asking him to 
 come at once to Captain Brown's rooms. 
 
 "Clayton," said he impressively, "I have heard a voice 
 from Heaven. When I was r-evolving plans for Jim's res- 
 cue the whole thing opened up to me as clear as noon- 
 day." And fixing his eyes on Frank as if he expected to 
 electrify him with his words : " We will open a highway 
 right through the State of Missouri ; have organized bands 
 to protect it all along the way; and the slaves will rusli 
 through it in an an irresistible torrent toward freedom. 
 Nothing can withstand them ! " 
 
 " But, my dear friend," said Frank, amazed, " this is 
 madness. I implore you to reflect that '' 
 
 " Reflect .'' T have reflected. Do the waters pause 
 when a breach is made in the dam ? I tell you we can 
 empty the South of suffering humanity by opening up 
 these points of egress — for there must be others. I have 
 thought of Harper's Ferry ; that is one point that must be 
 looked after. In a half-hour we could possess ourselves 
 of the United States* Arsenal there — and then " — and 
 there was a gleam of strange triumph in his eye — "noth- 
 ing on earth could stay tliat flood which would pour 
 through to Canada." 
 
 " My God ! You are not serious .'' " said Frank, in agita- 
 tion. 
 
 John Brown looked at Clayton in silence for a 
 moment, then said : " Clayton, I am disappointed in you. 
 I thought JY^//, at least, I might depend upon; but I see I 
 must lean upon no human arm. God and justice are all I 
 shall have to help me. But it will be done, sure as the 
 Red Sea opened for the Israelites." 
 
 " A Red Sea, yes," said Frank, gloomily ; " but a sea 
 red with blood ! — and now " 
 
 " Pardon me, my dear friend," he added more gently, 
 " but I see danger in all this — danger to you and to the 
 people you would serve. My reason revolts, I must can- 
 didly tell you, revolts at the whole plan as illegal and im- 
 practicable." 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 1 49 
 
 " Vou have no scruples against aiding one fugitive lo 
 liberty, which is equally illegal ; yet you hesitate to send 
 a thousand on the high road. I do not understand your 
 reasoning," said the old man with bitterness. " In other 
 words, you think it right to retail freedom, while it 
 ' revolts your reason ' to give it broadly to the whole 
 race." 
 
 Frank was overwhelmed when he found how impossible 
 it was to avert the impassioned old man from this plan. 
 He paced the floor in silence a few times, and then said 
 very earnestly : 
 
 " Abandon this, I iniolnre you — or at least, wait. W'ait, 
 be patient, and lime will avenge the wrongs we have all 
 suffered. And though I confess yours have been most 
 grievous and hard, and Jim's full of injustice and cruelty, 
 yet would I bid you wait until action shall mem/, not mar 
 the situation." 
 
 John Brown arose, and said impressively : 
 
 " Let me paint a picture for your contemplation, Clayton, 
 and then you may answer me. On the banks of a small 
 river was an humble cottage, under the roof of which lived 
 an aged couple and their four sons. Contentment, peace 
 and happiness were written on all parts of this quiet pic- 
 ture, animate and inanimate. 
 
 "Lo! a change ! Look again ! In the short space of 
 two summers the hand of the destroyer, Slavery, has been 
 at work. There under the scorched boughs of a spread- 
 ing oak that formed almost a part of the cottage itself, lies 
 the swollen, distorted and mutilated body of one son, 
 and kneeling near by is the wreck of another. Hovering 
 about this group is a woman whose fifty recurring autumns 
 have sprinkled their frosts upon her dishevelled hair, and 
 down her furrowed cheeks flow a mother's tears; while 
 with raised hands she cries in agony: 'Can such things 
 be, with a God still in Israel ! ' " 
 
 Then approaching his companion almost fiercel}'. Cap- 
 tain Brown added: "Now, sir, in the presence of this 
 picture can you ask the father and husband to be patient i^ 
 'Be patient ! ' Yes, I'll be patient and tarry with the thun- 
 der-bolts of an avenging God ! " and he walked on, sayihi; 
 to himself: "Yes, I'll wait for the slow process of Ages. 
 perhaps, when these black men shall be aroused aiiJ 
 made to stand upright before God." 
 
150 THE STORMY PETREL, 
 
 Then, stopping suddenly before Clayton, who sat 
 watching this storm of human woe, he continued : 
 
 "No, it's false and impossible. I'll not be patient nor 
 passive. I will rush forth and arouse these men from their 
 slumber of centuries and bid them in the name of God, 
 our common Father, to claim their heritage of freedom ! 
 Yes ; though I had a thousand lives instead of one to 
 answer for this act ! " 
 
 "Listen!" he added, with a solemn gesture. "Only 
 last night I was pondering on these things, weighing all 
 prudent objections, when suddenly the room became 
 illumined by a soft light, and, as from a cloud, a human 
 form dimly appeared, until finally it stood as in life, and 
 I started forward to embrace my son ; but, with a wave 
 of his hand, he bade me desist. His eyes were full of 
 tender light and sympathy; yet he spake not. Then I 
 said: 'In the name of God, my son, what can I — what 
 must I do in this great duty that lies before me ? ' As 
 if I had anticipated his wish, he smiled, saying : ' Father, 
 I come in the name and in behalf of the wronged — look 
 there ! ' and he pointed to the opposite wall ; and there, 
 written in blood-red letters, I saw ' Fear not to do thy 
 appointed work.' " 
 
 John Brown seated himself and remained bowed for 
 some moments. Lifting his head finally, he said : 
 
 " Can I — ought I to wait ? " 
 
 Clayton arose and clasped the outstretched hands, as 
 he said, with much feeling: 
 
 " Captain, compose yourself. I think you did but 
 dream ; and to act is to rush madly " 
 
 " Stay, stay, Clayton ! '' he interposed, " I am the 
 prophet, the priest and the sacrifice. If I dreamed then, 
 so do I dream now ; your task is silence — assent, or aid, 
 but no opposition. As well try to stay the bolt after the 
 electric flash. No, no; the die is cast — I go to answer 
 the call of duty and my God ! " 
 
CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 "Lawrence, Oct. loth, 1858. 
 
 "My Dear Duvall : 
 
 " I told you in my last brief letter of my painful 
 interview with our old friend, Capt. Brown ; but I did 
 not tell you the distress it cost me even for a moment 
 to differ from and almost rebuke him. And yet, I can- 
 not follow him in this mad enterprise upon which he is 
 fully bent. I am dismayed when I think to what it may 
 lead. I sometimes think long brooding over wrong has 
 partly dethroned reason. Had he ten lives, he would 
 gladly lay ihem down for the end he wishes to accomplish. 
 But he will 7iot accomplish it, and so the sacrifice will be 
 vain ; that my reason assures me. But what use to tell 
 him this ? Does the wind turn Mt. Oread, as she sits 
 there facing the sun ? 
 
 " He is not of our world. Its code of laws, its prejudices 
 and conventions are nothing to him, because he recog- 
 nizes only a Divine Code and defies human courts and 
 penalties. So — I can only leave him to work out his own 
 problem alone. I have consented, however, under certain 
 conditions, to lend my aid in his attempt to gather the band 
 of slaves in Missouri. He promises the thing shall be 
 accomplished without bloodshed ? and, of course, I antici- 
 pate that Sam will by this means escape from his captors 
 ?iv\d pseudo owner. 
 
 " This reminds me to tell you of an unexpected visitor 
 from my old home, in none other than Dick, the husband 
 of the poor girl who was, with her child, so mysteriously 
 spirited away from that misguided boy, Harry Barnes. 
 God only knows what became of the poor creature ; 
 but it seems that Mr. Fletcher has given him his 
 freedom, that he may go in search of her. As that 
 gentleman never did a good act in his life, (that I am 
 aware of) I naturally see my cousin Kate's hand in this. 
 She is the dearest and the best of women — and — well, if 
 
152 THE STORMY PETREL, 
 
 she is satisfied with her fate, I suppose I should be ! And 
 she seemed very fond of that underserving fellow, 
 although I thought in my last visit home, some two years 
 ago, I discovered signs of disenchantment. At all 
 events, she had lost her vivacity and there were lines of 
 pain in her face which troubled me. 
 
 " My dear fellow, how I do pour my heart out to you ! 
 It has become my habit to tell you everything. Oh, how 
 I miss your sympathetic smile, your magnetic presence 
 and your musical halting English ! Now, don't be vain, old 
 fellow ; but really, I have found your friendship so con- 
 genial and so comforting, I want you to know it. 
 
 "You have listened so patiently to my troubles and 
 so bravely concealed your own ! And, frankly, 1 have no 
 sorrows but those of others, which I take upon myself. 
 
 " The one sorrow of which I told you — the loss of my 
 early love — seems a dream now ! and since my uncle 
 Stanley is gone, there is no one nearer than my cousin 
 Kate. I have an ample fortune, life and the world 
 before me, I am heart free ; what right have I to ask for 
 sympathy? So to this confession I will add one more — 
 that I am, 
 
 " Ever most faithfully yours, 
 
 " Frank Clayton." 
 
CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 Upon the banks of the Osage River, near the Ihie of 
 Vernon County, just as the sun was sinking in the west, 
 a group of men stood looking across the small stream, 
 which ran swift and muddy from recent rain. 
 
 "I wonder what is the matter.'" said a tall, muscular 
 man, in whom we recognize Kagi, Capt. Brown's trusted 
 friend and lieutenant. "The captain is usually so 
 prompt, and we have only a few hours now in which to 
 do our work." 
 
 "Perhaps some trouble in obtaining a wagon," sug- 
 gested Charles Partridge ; then he exclaimed, " There ! I 
 see him coming." 
 
 And soon the tall, erect form of Capt. Brown stood 
 upon the opposite shore. 
 
 The two men with their companion, Frank Clayton, 
 bounded into their saddles and forded the narrow stream 
 which they observed was rising. 
 
 "We will have hard work, Kagi," said Clayton, "to 
 recross this creek five or six hours from now ; and if the 
 ferry-boat cannot be found up at the crossing, we may 
 have to swim. No telling what kind of a following we 
 may have." Then, turning in his saddle, he said : 
 
 " Partridge, do you know on which side of the river the 
 ferry is kept below here } " 
 
 " I am unable to say, for it is used now by those dare- 
 devil boys about here. 
 
 " I have information that Livingstone and Hart are 
 both down at Skinner's ranch ; and some kind of deviltry 
 is on foot, for the trio never come together unless mis- 
 chief is brooding. I have made arrangements to have 
 the ferry-boat on this side ; and if those devils don't dis- 
 cover it, we will be all right," said Kagi, as they ascended 
 the bank where Capt. Brown stood looking at the four 
 trusted men who were commg over for a final council 
 before action. 
 
 All of the horsemen dismounted, and after shaking 
 
154 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 hands with their leader, stood about him, wailing for his 
 commands. It was finally agreed, after some discussion, 
 that the ferry should be the rendezvous instead of the 
 ford, in view of the rapidly rising river. 
 
 When all arrangements were made, Clayton and his 
 friends mounted, to recross the stream where their field 
 of action lay, leaving the other horsemen watching them 
 until they had ascended the opposite bank. 
 
 After several hours' swift but noiseless travel, Part- 
 ridge said : 
 
 " Now, we are near Skinner's ranch ; and if you will 
 remain here, I will reconnoitre and report to you." 
 
 Clayton's servant, Dick, had joined the party, and was 
 by his master's side. 
 
 Soon, Partridge returned, saying : 
 
 " I see Sam has a light burning in his cabin, which 
 means there is danger. I will go and warn him and his 
 fellow servants and then have them quietly saddle the 
 horses, and you can keep watch on the house where the 
 master and, perhaps, his guests are sleeping." 
 
 The force was disposed of, and Duvall had Sam and 
 three other men engaged in saddling horses and gather- 
 ing together such articles as were needful for the flight. 
 
 Dick observed a dark figure approaching from the 
 house, and gave a low whistle as a warning to the man 
 on guard. When this figure was quite near, he said : 
 
 "Halt! If you raise a hand, you're a dead man!'' 
 
 Skinner, for it was he, looked around to find himself 
 face to face with Dick who had him covered with a pistol 
 not ten feet away ; and though he carried a navy revol- 
 ver in his hand, he hesitated a moment; then turned 
 suddenly and fired ; another report followed his closely, 
 and Skinner fell to the ground. 
 
 " Whar's Mars Frank.' asked Sam, running up. 
 " Dem debils '11 be on us now, suah. Dem shots was 
 de sign for dem to come tarin' — I mean Mars Living- 
 stone and Mars Hart." 
 
 Hastily mounting their horses, the party put spurs and 
 were soon on their way to the ferry. Livingstone, Hart 
 and four others from an all-night debauch they had been 
 attending, arrived on the ground well filled with whiskey, 
 and in no condition for hostilities requiring cool, deliber- 
 ate action. Thev found Skinner dead, and leavins: him 
 
THE STORMY PETREI,, I55 
 
 with one of their number, then followed a hasty consulta- 
 tion ; in which they decided that John Brown and his 
 " jay-hawkers " were the perpetrators, and that they had 
 probably returned to the ferry as the river was too high 
 to cross at the ford. 
 
 With a 3'ell of rage, the party of madmen set out b3' 
 the most direct route for that point. 
 
 " There's hell to pay now ! " said Livingstone, as 
 shouting and firing pistols like drunken savages, they 
 started for the ferry. 
 
 Clayton and his party heard the shots in the distance, 
 but they had a good start, were better mounted, and all 
 sober. Arrived at the ferry just before daylight, they 
 found the boat had been taken to the opposite shore, 
 while the river had risen, and froth and foam covered 
 the surface of the roaring stream. No time was to be 
 lost. In order to swim over to get the ferry-boat, it was 
 necessary that the swimmer start from above- and go 
 down with the current. 
 
 Claude plunged into the mad, muddy water, but 
 soon became entangled in the underbrush. 
 
 " Come back, Claude," shouted Clayton, " and make 
 a fresh start. Now," said he, " I am a more am- 
 phibious animal than you; let me take the lead in 
 this." And, stripping himself for the perilous swim, he 
 was soon out beyond the brush and in the angry water. 
 All held their breath in suspense until they should 
 hear some signal of success. 
 
 Out, out into the darkness, the swimmer pulled 
 carefully, reserving his strength for the final struggle 
 on the opposite side. In the middle of the stream where 
 the long rope stretched from shore to shore upon 
 which the ferry-boat clung as she glided back and 
 forth, Clayton caught hold and rested a moment. As 
 he clung, almost breathless, there came a drift of 
 logs and brushwood, striking the rope and lifting 
 him partly out of the water. Releasing his hold, he 
 sank beneath the surface, but soon reappeared and 
 struck out for the shore, where he could just see 
 the dim outlines of the boat and landing. 
 
 Too much exhausted to make any signal of vic- 
 tory, he clung to the end of the boat to regain 
 his breath before raising himself in. Then he sent 
 
156 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 on the wings of the wind a shrill note over the 
 turbulent water ; " T'ank God ! He done cross de 
 dark ribber suah an' sartin ! " cried Sam. 
 
 Soon, the staple was forced out by Clayton and the 
 bow of the boat turned toward the opposite shore. As 
 he was approaching it, there came on the chill morning 
 air, the shout of pursuers and the ominous report of 
 pistols. 
 
 Partridge and Dick were now called in from picket 
 duly, and all were soon on board the frail boat, almost 
 too heavily laden for safety. 
 
 The voice of Livingstone was first heard as the pursu- 
 ing party came thundering to the landing, only to see, by 
 opposite light of the early dawn, the boat nearing the 
 the shore. 
 
 " Cut that d d rope, quick, boys ! Kill or drown 
 
 the d d jayhawkers ! " he commanded. 
 
 Meantime, Kagi had posted his men in the stern of the 
 boat with orders to return the first fire. 
 
 Soon, the flash came, and revealed the pursuers in a 
 confused mass ; and Kagi sent a bullet from his rifle in 
 response to their challenge. Then another and another 
 was sent in quick succession, as the bow of the boat 
 under Sam's careful management ran with a slight shock 
 against the bank. 
 
 A flash and a volley from just over their heads revealed 
 that John Brown had arrived, and was paying his compli- 
 ments to Livingstone across the river, while yells of rage 
 and defiance came over the roaring water, with occasional 
 shots from the baflfled pursuers. 
 
 On ascending the bank, Captain Brown was the first to 
 grasp Clayton's hand, saying, as he did so : 
 
 "I am glad to see you unharmed. I trust all the 
 others are safe." 
 
 "We are all right. Captain, and we have rescued our 
 inan and three others in safety, to say nothing of four 
 good horses; and we left Skinner wounded on the 
 ground near his door-sill." 
 
 " I had hoped," said the captain, " we could make 
 this expedition a success without shedding a drop of 
 blood. I am glad to say we have brought out our entire 
 party without pulling a trigger until we came here. 
 
 By this time the team with Captain Browai's party 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 157 
 
 came up, composed of men, women, and children. 
 The sun had risen, and the old friends, Sam and Dick, 
 met for the first time face to face, and embraced in their 
 demonstrative fashion. 
 
 And now again the party was put in motion, keeping 
 the edge of the timber that skirted the river bank. 
 
 When a place of safety had been reached on Kansas 
 soil, Captain Brown and Clayton, accompanied by 
 Dick, rode by night to Lawrence, leaving Kagi in 
 command, with instructions to use all possible care 
 to avoid surprise and to move with great care and 
 secrecy through to Nebraska and thence northward. 
 
CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 Clayton had returned to Lawrence. One evening, 
 a week later, as he sat watching the unusual glory 
 of the setting sun, he saw a horseman covered with 
 dust, ride at full speed to the Eldridge Hotel, dismount, 
 throw the reins to a servant, and hastily ascend the 
 steps. Clayton saw all this, but his thoughts were 
 far away at the moment with Captain Brown, whose 
 crayon portrait was standing upon a rustic easel 
 in the room. Lost in revery, he hardly heard the 
 light tap at his door some moments later, until it 
 was repeated, and he said, " Come in," without ob- 
 serving who entered. 
 
 " Is Mr. Clayton in ? " was demanded, in a youthful 
 voice, the sound of which brought Clayton back to the 
 world and duty. 
 
 " I am he. What can I do for you } " he said, 
 advancing toward his visitor, a youth of some eighteen 
 years, rather below the medium stature, with dark eyes 
 and hair, clean-cut features, a fair oval face which was 
 Hushed from riding. 
 
 The messenger drew fiom the inner pocket of his coat 
 a letter, which he handed to Clayton, saying : 
 
 " I beg pardon for intruding upon you, Mr. Clayton, 
 but my business would admit of no delay, as you will 
 learn from the contents of this despatch — which I hope 
 you will lose no time in reading," he added, seeing 
 Clayton stood gazing, as if trying to read the messenger 
 instead of the message. 
 
 " I beg you will sit down," said Clayton kindly — 
 "you look fatigued, and now may I ask the name of 
 the messenger to whom I am indebted for this de- 
 spatch ? " 
 
 " My name is Roland Priest," said the youth, with 
 downcast eyes, as though he dared not encounter the 
 earnest ones of the questioner. 
 
 " Roland Priest," said Clayton, " I am very thank- 
 
THE STORMY PETREL- 1 59 
 
 ful for your promptness in the delivery of the message, 
 since I see it left my old friend Captain Brown only last 
 night. Do you know anything of the contents?" he 
 inquired, looking up from the paper and thinking how 
 unwise it was in Captain Brown to select such an inexpe- 
 rienced youth to bear so important a despatch. 
 
 " I only know, sir, that Captain Brown and his party 
 are in great danger, and that after writing and delivering 
 this letter, he said not to come with less than twenty men 
 and to come without delay, by way of Topeka." 
 
 " I see Captain Brown says they are surrounded ; — 
 did you come through without adventure or discovery? " 
 
 "Yes — I mean no, sir. There was discovery, and 
 some adventure in getting beyond the enemy's lines 
 which are drawn pretty close around Captain Brown's 
 party." 
 
 " I notice on this envelope. Mr. Priest " 
 
 " Please call me Roland, Mr. Clayton ; I am not used 
 to being called 'Mister;' and — and — it confuses me," 
 interrupted the young man, blushing like a girl. 
 
 "Well, 'Roland' then; I observe blood-stains upon 
 this envelope ; and I trust Captain Brown's messenger 
 was not hurt seriously in bearing his despatch ? " 
 
 "Yes, sir — I think — I mean, the other messenger is 
 hurt quite badly." 
 
 " Then, you are not the same person into whose hands 
 Captain Brown delivered this paper?" 
 
 "No, sir; I took the despatch when the other messen- 
 ger fainted from loss of blood, and I brought it as soon 
 as possible " 
 
 "Pardon me : I was only wondering how my old friend 
 came to select such a young and, perhaps, inexperi- 
 enced " 
 
 "Yes, I understand, but the messenger who started 
 with the despatch was one of the swiftest and most dar- 
 ing riders in all Kansas; but you see, there were unfore- 
 seen difficulties, and you ought to be " 
 
 "Thankful, you would justly say, for the delivery of the 
 message," interjected Clayton. "And so I am. You 
 are a brave young man, and will make your mark in life. 
 But now, you must have rest and something to eat, if you 
 are to accompany us, as you say." 
 
 "What time will you start, Mr. Clayton ?" 
 
l6o THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 " I think we can be ready by twelve o'clock to-night, 
 and by hard riding, we can be within striking distance of 
 Captain Brown's position by the same hour to-morrow 
 night." 
 
 After registering his name in the hotel, Roland was 
 shown to his room to rest ; and Clayton sallied forth to 
 find the requisite twenty men who could be mounted and 
 ready for the hard ride and prospective fight. 
 
 The first persons he met, were Partridge and Parker ; 
 the former of whom was of John Brown's liberating party 
 which had recently returned from Missouri, and they had 
 their own horses. Both would be ready and meet on 
 Mount Oread at the hour designated, armed and 
 equipped. 
 
 Several others were found who would gladly go, onl}' 
 they were not provided with horses. Colonel Eldridge, 
 the proprietor of the Eldridge House, came up where a 
 group of three men were discussing the matter, and said 
 promptly : 
 
 "1 have twenty horses at your command, Clayton, if 
 so many are needed. No man need stay who w-ants to 
 go on such a mission ? " 
 
 So, through this patriotic and generous offer, in less 
 than two hours the party was made up under promise to 
 report on Mount Oread at midnight. 
 
 On returning to the hotel, Clayton found that Roland 
 had supped and retired, asking to be excused to Mr. 
 Clayton, and to be called at half-past eleven o'clock. 
 
 In order to understand the preceding, we must rejoin 
 John Brown in the preliminary movements of his under- 
 taking. 
 
CHAPTER XXXIL 
 
 Captain Brown had determined to move quietly 
 through Kansas and Nebraska, when he took up the Hne 
 of march for freedom, making no demonstration in Iowa or 
 elsewhere, which would tend to excite opposition, as the 
 rewards offered by the Governor of Missouri and the 
 President of the United Slates, were likely to make new 
 and additional incentive to the excited and embittered 
 spirit in the South and some parts of the North as 
 well. 
 
 Evidence was furnished of parties being organized for 
 the purpose of interrupting his march, with headquarters 
 both at Lecompton and Atchison. 
 
 About a day's journey beyond Topeka, he had unmis- 
 takable evidence of the enemy's spies and pickets hang- 
 ing on the fianks of the little band, carefully keeping out 
 of range of his Sharpe's rifles, but rarely out of sight. 
 
 Riding thoughtfully in advance of his train, it occurred 
 to him that a messenger ought to be sent to Lawrence for 
 the promised reinforcement. As night drew near, he 
 decided to go into camp beside a narrow stream bordered 
 by a thick growth of timber. On the western bank, over- 
 looking the country, stood a double log cabin with strong 
 doors chinked between the logs with stones, over which 
 was plastered a coat of red clay. 
 
 Before unharnessing the teams. Captain Brown rode up 
 to this comfortable log cabin and, in response to his call, 
 a young man, dressed in a hunting-suit of buckskin, 
 came out. His quick elastic step, dark eyes, waving hair 
 and open brow, bespoke a youth in whom border life and 
 its attendant dangers had brought out the full vigor of 
 his not more than twenty years. He wore at his belt 
 a navy revolver and large hunting-knife. 
 
 "Come in. Captain ?" said the young man, in a pleas- 
 ant voice, as he came promptly forward and took the ex- 
 tended hand of Captain Brown, who had dismounted as he 
 also advanced. 
 
1 62 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 " Why, Roland Priest. I am rejoiced to see you ; and 
 is this your cabin ? " 
 
 " Yes, Captain, these are my bachelor quarters. My 
 mother lives up the creek a few miles, and I am down 
 here to look after my claim. Are these your teams 
 down at the creek. Captain ? " 
 
 " Yes, those are my wards on the road to freedom, of 
 whom you perhaps have heard." 
 
 " Yes, I have heard, and I warn you that others also 
 have heard of your undertaking. You had better stop 
 here to-night, and bring your wagons up to the house ; — 
 you will be more comfortable as well as safe. I have 
 noticed here to-day, more than a dozen men, mounted 
 and armed, passing and repassing. They are evidently 
 on ;he lookout for your train, and you may expect an at- 
 tack before you go much further." 
 
 The teams were driven up in the yard and unhitched ; 
 the negroes were safely housed, and preparations made 
 for supper, v^rhen Roland Priest and Captain Brown 
 walked out, talking of their old home in York State, where 
 they were neighbors. 
 
 '' How did your mother ever consent to come out to 
 this wild country, Roland } " asked the captain, 
 
 " I tell you. Captain, I acquired a taste for this west- 
 ern life, as you know, and I couldn't stay there content- 
 edly ; and mother finally decided that she would rather 
 live here with me than there without me, so we are all 
 here now, safe and sound." 
 
 "What of your sister, Isabel. How does she like this 
 life ? " 
 
 "Admirably, Captain. She often hunts with me, and 
 is a captial shot and horsewoman. You must go up with 
 me and see my mother. She'll be so glad to see 
 you." 
 
 " Ah, my boy, much as I would like to see my old 
 friends, I dare not leave my post of duty, now^. And 
 that reminds me — there must be posted a picket guard at 
 once. Ride out with me and let us select a good point. 
 You are familiar with the location ? " 
 
 The two men mounted and rode out a half-mile beyond 
 the cabin to an elevated point from which the picket 
 could command a good view of the surrounding country. 
 As they were sitting in their saddles enjoying the beauti- 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 1 63 
 
 ful prospect, looking westward, two men rode up a ravine 
 and stood in the path several hundred yards away. See- 
 ing Captain Brown and Roland, they moved off in the 
 opposite direction, paying no heed to the command 
 to halt, but answered by two ringing shots from their 
 rifles, as they put spurs to their horses and rode 
 away. 
 
 '"There is a challenge for you, Captain. They are in 
 force, with ways guarded; for they never would have 
 made such an assault if they had not been sure of their 
 game. Now. what is to be done ? I'll warrant the road 
 from here to Topeka, as well as (jrasshopper Falls, is 
 guarded." 
 
 " Yes, perhaps," said Captian pjrown ; " But let us go 
 inside and talk the matter over. We must act with delib- 
 eration." 
 
 " Roland, my boy," said the captain, when they were 
 seated in the cabin, "can you carry a despatch to Law- 
 rence for me, and start immediately? " 
 
 " I'll go to the ends of the earth to serve you ; only I 
 should be glad to go home, a distance of only a few miles, 
 and inform mother and Isabel of my absence and my 
 mission. They are looking for me at this moment, and I 
 never disappoint them when I can help it." 
 
 " How much out of your way is it ? " 
 
 "Very little. My horse Thunderbolt carries me as if I 
 were a feather, and thus there will be little time lost." 
 
 In half an hour Roland Priest stood before the cap- 
 tain in boots and spurs, ready for the ride. 
 
 " Roland," said the old captain, " do you appreciate 
 the danger as well as the importance of this ride ? " 
 
 " I think I do. Captain ; and you may depend upon my 
 seeing your friend Mr. Clayton and carrying out your in- 
 structions." 
 
 " Read them first, so you will understand the situ- 
 ation," said the captain. 
 
 Roland read aloud. 
 
 " Danger Creek Crossing. 
 " My Dear Clayton : — 
 
 "We are here surrounded by the enemy. We are 
 fortified in the two cabins on the bank, and can hold out 
 against a hundred until succored. Come at once with 
 
164 THE STORM V PETREL, 
 
 double the force agreed upon. Messenger lias \erbal in- 
 structions to avoid mishap, and you can trust him. 
 
 " Yours trulv, 
 
 ' "J. B." 
 
 " Now for verbal instructions,'" said the captain, when 
 the young man had finished reading. '• I want Clayton 
 to bring not less than twenty men and to come via 
 Topeka, and co-operate with any force he may find there, 
 but on no condition to wait a moment, but come at once. 
 Let him move so as to reach here, if all works well, by 
 Sunday morning, and make the attack about daylight. 
 You, of course, will return with him. You will find him at 
 the Eldridge House on Massachusetts Street, Lawrence." 
 
 Roland Priest led his horse down the bank of the 
 creek, and was soon hidden in darkness from Cap- 
 tain Brown, who stood in the door watching the mes- 
 senger upon whom so much now- depended. 
 
 Skirting the creek was a narrow strip of bottom-land, 
 which Roland followed for some distance, where a high 
 plateau formed the bank to the creek, compelling him to 
 emerge, since he could not cross on account of the 
 treacherous bottom. 
 
 As he came to the top, he stood for a moment, peering 
 in every direction for the enemy's pickets, which he had 
 no doubt were posted not far from this point. Not see- 
 ing or hearing anything suspicious, he remounted Thun- 
 derbolt and rode caiefuUy for a short distance, when his 
 liorse swerved to one side as a voice with an oath called 
 nut : 
 
 " HALT ! OR YOU ARE A DEAD MAN ! " 
 
 Roland, without obeying the conunand or stopping to 
 think of the consequences, threw himself forward and to 
 the opposite side of his horse, at the same time firing his 
 revolver at the dark outline of a man and horse but a few 
 rods away, saying as he did so : 
 
 '• Now, Thunderbolt, go ! '' 
 
 He saw a flash from his antagonist's pistol, and felt a 
 sharp twinge in his shoulder that warned him he was hit, 
 but he hoped not seriously, as he found the use of his 
 arm not impaired. Riding directly home, he dismounted 
 and staggered, faint and exhausted, into his mother's 
 presence. 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 165 
 
 "O my son ! " was the greeting that met him at the 
 threshold. " Roland, what has happened .'' '' 
 
 " Oh, he is dying !" exclaimed Isabel, in terror. 
 
 Dr. Russell was most fortunately at a neighboring house 
 and in five minutes was with the distressed family. 
 
 " Do you feel any internal pain ^ "' inquired the doc- 
 tor. " Take a long breath ? '" 
 
 Roland did as requested, and found considerable pain 
 from breathing, and spat blood. 
 
 " Now," said the physician, " you must lie down and 
 remain as quiet as possible." 
 
 " Doctor," said the wounded boy, "■ I cannot. I am in- 
 trusted with an important dispatch from Captain Brown." 
 
 "No matter," said the doctor, "from whom the dis- 
 patch is, nor for whom, you can go no further." 
 
 " Dear Roland," said Isabel, " give yourself no anxiety 
 about this dispatch. I know of a messenger who will take 
 your place." 
 
 In a whispered tone, Roland gave his sister the verbal 
 instructions he had received from Captain Brown, and 
 handed her the letter, then fell back fainting. 
 
 For a few minutes, the house was in a state of alarm, 
 then Roland wearily opened his eyes and inquired what 
 had happened ? 
 
 Isabel knelt by the side of the couch and kissed the pal- 
 lid face. 
 
 " What a likeness ! " said Dr. Russell, "even for twin 
 brother and sister it is remarkable ! " 
 
 ''Rolla, the doctor says you are not too much hurt for 
 me to leave you for a while, and he will remain with vou ; 
 so good-bye, my darling." Then stopping at the door with 
 her mother, she said a few words in an inaudible tone, 
 and Isabel Priest vanished with John Brown's dispatch. 
 
CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 At precisely half-past eleven o'clock Clayton rapped at 
 the door of Roland Priest's room in the Free State Hotel, 
 and the response came promptly. 
 
 " RoUa — oh, Mr. Clayton. Yes, I remember. I will 
 soon be down." 
 
 Clayton pacetl the floor impatiently, wondering who the 
 " Rolla " could be for whom this young man, in his first 
 waking moments, mistook him. 
 
 Soon Roland appeared in person, somewhat pale, but 
 refreshed. 
 
 •' 1 hope I have not delayed you. I was tired, and slept 
 soundl)^, but I am at your service now." 
 
 The coffee was brought, and while partaking of it Ro- 
 land's face deepened in color under the intense gaze 
 of his companion, who saw in the boy an unexplained 
 mystery, that one seemingly so young, refined and 
 educated, should be leading such a wild, adventurous 
 life, and yet changing color like a girl under his scrutiniz- 
 ing gaze. 
 
 But there was no time for pondering over these prob- 
 lems, and the two were soon in their saddles, wending 
 their way to Mt. Oread, where were assembled the relief 
 party, eighteen in number. 
 
 Only a few minutes after twelve o'clock they were 
 joined by Clayton and his young companion on Mount 
 Oread. 
 
 '■ Gentlemen," said the strong, manly voice of Henry 
 Parker, " I suggest that Mr. Clayton shall command this 
 expedition." 
 
 " I endorse what friend Parker has said," responded 
 Partridge, "and hope that Mr. Clayton will be unani- 
 mously chosen to command our relief party." 
 
 " Ay ! Ay ! " responded every voice. 
 
 Clayton thanked them for their confidence in him, and 
 accepted the responsibility. 
 
 Then, in line, counted off by " twos," they wheeled into 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 1 67 
 
 column, and the command " Forward ! " was given as 
 Clayton and Roland Priest rode at their head. 
 
 Sunrise found the party dismounting at the hotel at 
 'i'opeka, where man and beast were refreshed, after which, 
 the day's march was resumed, and a beautiful day it 
 proved. Though winter, it was a spring day in tempera- 
 ture. The news of Capt. Brown's perilous situation 
 created excitement in Topeka, and a party was to be or- 
 ganized to co-operate with the Lawrence force at once, and 
 follow to the rescue. 
 
 The day's march was drawing near its close, as Frank 
 Clayton and Roland Priest rode side by side. 
 
 " Observe, Roland, what a peculiar haze of a rich pink- 
 ish hue the heavens have in the west; not only at the ho- 
 rizon, but far above. What can it mean ? See there. It 
 runs in broad feathery lines, as of falling rain." 
 
 " I also have observed a chill in the atmosphere, Mr. 
 Clayton. That augurs a radical change in the weather. 
 It looks very like a snow-storm." 
 
 The wind sprang up from the northwest; the sun sank 
 lower and lower, and finally disappeared in a dark bank 
 of clouds. 
 
 The pinkish color of the heavens gradually merged into 
 the more sombre hue of the storm cloud; then the whole 
 ]5anorama was illuminated by fiery zigzag lines as the 
 lightning cleft for an instant these masses of cloud, fol- 
 lowed by the sharp report of thunder. 
 
 Others of the party looked in dismay at the phenome- 
 non as they rode under whip and spur by order of their 
 commander, hastening to reach the timber before the 
 storm overtook them. 
 
 In half an hour the storm burst upon the travellers, who 
 were little prepared for its approach. 
 
 " We cannot be far from that skirt of timber on our 
 right, can we .-* " asked Clayton of young Priest. 
 
 " No, I think not ; but had we not better keep on, at 
 least to the crossing, where we will find shelter ? " replied 
 Roland, as the blinding wind and snow obscured all ob- 
 jects. 
 
 " Halt ! Who comes tliere ! " exclaimed Clayton as the 
 column came upon a number of dark objects driven with 
 the fury of the snow-storm which had now burst upon 
 them in full force. 
 
l6S THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 To the command and inquiry, given in quick succession, 
 there was a loud " Mooah, mooah," from ihe deep throats 
 of a large herd of cattle, and the response was taken up 
 and repeated all the way down the line of terror-stricken 
 animals, as they continued their course with the wind and 
 snow, in the direction of the timber on the right of the 
 line of march. 
 
 The episode was so absurd that despite the i:)L'ril there 
 was a shout of laughter in which all joined, though they 
 realized the danger of a snow-storm on a western prairie. 
 
 Keeping the wind to their backs, and joining the herd of 
 cattle, they soon reached the timber skirting the small 
 stream whose high banks and some fallen trees with over- 
 lapping cedars, furnished temporary shelter for the little 
 party. Soon, a roaring five was crackling in the branches 
 of a fallen oak ; horses secured, and arrangements made 
 for spending the night in this wild and desolate region. 
 
 Details of men were made to keep guard and others to 
 bring wood for the fire, which had no sooner shed its 
 bright and cheering rays through the clouds of drifting 
 snow, than the herd which liad preceded the horsemen, 
 began to crowd around and almost contest the space 
 about it with the men who were busily piling on tlie 
 broken boughs. 
 
 Through the long and seemingly interminable night 
 these beasts at short intervals would indulge in lowing 
 plaintively, which, interspersed with the shrieking wind 
 and the occasional sharp click of their horns as they 
 crowded around the fire, sounded not unlike the snapping 
 of hungry wolves accompanied by low rumbling as of dis- 
 tant thunder, as one after another of the vast herd shook 
 from his shaggy coat the fast accumulating burden of 
 snow. Their eyes gleamed in the dim light like so many 
 phosphorescent lamps, and the falling snow-flakes seemed 
 like myriad moths diving into unearthly fires. These 
 weird sights and sounds, in addition to the storm of wind, 
 roaring and howling among the groaning trees, made a 
 deep impression upon even the stoutest of the party. 
 
 Sheltered under the boughs of a spreading cedar, 
 Clayton and Roland sat, looking into the fire in silence ; 
 and ever and anon, the pale face of the youth was 
 upturned to the other inquiringly, as if to ask if all were 
 well. 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. l6g 
 
 Clayton was nut. unmindful of what was passing in his 
 companion's mind, who drew instinctively closer to him, 
 and he answered reassuringly : 
 
 " We are all safe, my boy, have no fear." 
 
 About midnight, as the fury of the storm abated some- 
 what, and the cattle became more quite, Clayton said : 
 
 *' Come, Roland, you must lie down and have your rest. 
 No soldier can do his whole duty who goes into battle cold, 
 worn, and without sleep. If you are, as you say, afraid 
 for both of us to sleep at once, f will keep watch while you 
 get a few hours' sleep ; and then you may take your turn in 
 the vigils." 
 
 "I will lie down on the condition that you call me in 
 two or three hours, — which is all the sleep I want." 
 
 "Indeed, Master Roland, after your two days' ride and 
 only a half night's rest, I am sure you need sound sleep; 
 so now, wrap yourself in this blanket, and lie down." 
 
 And without further parley, Roland pulled the felt hat 
 down over head and face, and was soon asleep. 
 
 Hour after hour, as each relief came on, the fires were 
 renewed, and still Roland Priest slept on and Frank 
 Clayton kept his watch. Tired and sleepy, he said to 
 himself : " Why should I not lie down and get some rest } 
 This youngster has no right to dictate such terms." And 
 putting his hand upon the blanket to turn it aside, Roland 
 started up and took his post as officer of the guard while 
 sleep brought refreshing rest to Clayton. 
 
 At daylight, the relief party mounted and ascended the 
 bluff, now covered with snow, leaving the cattle in posses- 
 sion of the camp and crowding into the vacant space 
 around the fire. 
 
 The dim outline of Danger Creek Forest was discerned 
 some miles away, to which Clayton and party marched 
 across the trackless expanse. 
 
 Soon the cruling smoke that issued from the chimney 
 of a cabin in the distance, was discernible; and Roland, 
 porn ting to it, said : '• There — that is Danger Creek 
 Crossing, and there is the cabin in which Captain Brown 
 is lodged.*' 
 
 Keeping well under cover of the bank and skirt of tim- 
 ber, Clayton led his men unobserved, within striking dis- 
 tance ; then halting the column, Mr. Partridge was given 
 command of a detachment with instructions to remain 
 
170 
 
 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 quiet until Clayton, with the remainder of the men, had 
 made a short detour under cover of an angle of the creek 
 bank, whereb\' he could strike the besieging force from 
 another quarter, whose pickets and smoke from their 
 camp-fires could be seen. A single shot was to be the 
 signal for a simultaneous charge with a loud shout " to 
 follow the enemy as far as you can see him, and meet at 
 the cabin." 
 
 Turning to Roland, Clayton said : 
 
 " Will you go with us, or remain here ? Perhaps you will 
 be less exposed here." 
 
 " No, Mr. Clayton, I am familiar with the country, and 
 can give you the benefit of my knowledge. I'll go with 
 you." 
 
 Winding around the hill for a half mile or so, a favorable 
 position was obtained from which the single picket on dut}' 
 could be seen on this side of the creek. The cabin was in 
 full view. Captain Brown and party were all astir, and a 
 move was evidently contemplated. 
 
 Carefully stealing to the top of the bank, in line, 
 Clayton raised his rifle and fired at the picket; then 
 gave the command to charge, and away went the pursued 
 and pursuers, and almost instantly. Partridge and his 
 party came shouting and firing over the hill. 
 
 Taken entirely by surprise, the border ruffian relief 
 mounted and rode helter skelter in different direc- 
 tions. 
 
 "Every man for himself," said the last of the pickets, 
 '• and the devil take the hindmost ! " 
 
 It was an odd spectacle, as the men rode pell-mell into 
 the deep snow, the plunging steeds throwing the light 
 feathery snow in clouds about them. The ringing reports 
 of rifles broke upon the clear cold atmosphere, mingled 
 with the shouting of both sides. 
 
 A small party of the enemy, in attempting to escape 
 in the direction of Lecompton, were cut off by Clayton's 
 detachment and driven back upon Captain IBrown, who 
 took them prisoners. 
 
 Clayton and Roland rode side by side in hot pursuit 
 of the enemy. Commanding one of the pickets to halt 
 and not being obeyed, Clayton looked in astonishment to 
 see that Roland had not drawn his pistol, but was pale 
 and agitated. 
 
THE STOP MY PETREL, 171 
 
 "Why Roland, you don't show fight!" exclaimed 
 Clayton, as he took aim with his own pistol. 
 
 "Oh, don't shoot, Mr. Clayton!" pleaded his compan- 
 ion. 
 
 Continuing the chase, Clayton shouted, " Halt ! " and 
 quickly fired over the head of the fleeing horseman. The 
 shot had the desired efTect, for he halted, turned round, 
 and held up his hands in token of surrender. 
 
 "Ah, Livingstone, again I have the drop on you ! " ex- 
 claimed Clayton, as he covered him with his pistol. "You 
 are a foolhardy fellow, and owe your life to this young 
 man." Observing another body of men, Clayton said, 
 " Here, Roland, you and Dick " (who came up at this 
 juncture) " disarm and take this prisoner, and turn him 
 over to Captain Brown with my compliments. Tell the 
 captain I'll see him later." 
 
 Putting spurs to his horse, Clayton rode away with 
 the rest of the detachment in pursuit of the fleeing horse- 
 men, leaving the prisoner to be conducted toward the 
 cabin, some two miles distant, by Dick and Roland. 
 
 Captain Brown demanded the surrender of the four men 
 who had been driven back on his camp. Their fine 
 horses were given to Jim and Sam and to two others of 
 the party of negroes who were not mounted. Against 
 this order the prisoners protested and -swore loudly. 
 Captain Brown ordered them to desist, at which they re- 
 doubled their blasphemy. 
 
 " Now," said Captain Brown, drawing his pistol and ap- 
 proaching one prisoner, who was fairly melting the snow 
 with his red-hot oaths, " you shall kneel down here, and 
 ask God to forgive you for blaspheming His sacred name. 
 Come, sir, kneel down ! " 
 
 The prisoner looked sullenly into the captain's face as 
 the latter continued, with pistol levelled at his head : 
 
 " ril give you just two minutes in which to determine 
 whether you will kneel down, or be shot down." 
 
 In the face of the old man who held the revolver with 
 its leaden messenger of death, there was written in un- 
 mistakable lines of determination the decree, If you 
 will not do right and serve God while living, then you 
 shall die at the hands of His agent. Without waiting for 
 two minutes to expire, he knelt in the snow^, in the 
 
172 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 presence of his friends and enemies, and prayed God to 
 " be merciful to me a sinner." 
 
 When he was about to rise, Captain Brown forbade, and, 
 with uncovered head, prayed God to grant this now peni- 
 tent child of sin the forgiveness he sought for his many 
 transgressions, " and turn him, O heavenly Father, turn 
 him from the persecution of thine own children as thou 
 didst Saul of Tarsus, and make him one of thy powerful 
 insiruments for the establishment of the truth and of free- 
 dom." 
 
 Just as the kneeling man had risen, Roland and Dick, 
 who had arrived during this episode, came forward with 
 their prisoner. 
 
 Captain Brown welcomed the messenger with extended 
 hands. 
 
 " Roland, my boy, I am proud of you ! " 
 
 The youth dismounted and put up his pistol. Captain 
 Brown shook both hands of the young soldier, who had 
 received the first lesson in war or the " baptism by fire." 
 Looking intently in the youthful face, he suddenly released 
 ihe hands, and said, stepping back a pace : 
 
 " What ? Oh, my God ! My child, what does this mean 1 " 
 
 Putting his finger to his lip and shaking his head, 
 Roland ran into the open arms of Captain Brown, and 
 whispered in his ear what the reader already knows. 
 
 " God will bless you, my child, — yes, abundantly bless 
 you for your heroic act ! Tell me of Clayton. Where is 
 he ? " 
 
 " He sent this prisoner," said Roland, turning to Liv- 
 ingstone, who, under Dick's watchful eye had dismounted, 
 " and he was in pursuit of the enemy when last seen." 
 
 Capt. Brown ordered the train to move forward, and 
 Roland to ride by his side and relate as they rode the 
 horrors of the past night. 
 
 " I suppose you were frightened, my dear, when the 
 storm struck you," said Captain Brown. 
 
 " Oh, it was terrible ! What with the roaring of the storm 
 and the unearthly noises of the cattle, I believe I should 
 have died of fright had not Mr. Clayton kept alive my 
 courage," 
 
 "Then you like Mr. Clayton?" 
 
 " Oh, I admire bravery. I know him so slightly, you 
 see, I cannot say." 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 1 73 
 
 " Does he suspect- 
 
 " Nothing," added the youth, turning quickly, "and I 
 would not have him know for the world. Leave him 
 where he is, in bewilderment and doubt as to who the 
 first messenger, or Roland Priest, or both of them, are. 
 And now here is the road that leads to our cabin, and I 
 must leave you, Captain." 
 
 " My child, how can I sufficiently thank you or express 
 my gratitude } I wish I could make you believe it were 
 best that I should inform Mr. Clayton of this service and 
 to whom the honor is due." 
 
 " No, no. Captain. You must allow me to manage this 
 myself. The gratitude and appreciation you have ex- 
 pressed is payment a thousand-fold." 
 
 Tears were on the youthful face, and the strong lines 
 in the war-worn visage of John Brown relaxed and soft- 
 ened into womanly sympathy and tenderness as with a 
 mutual " God bless you ! " the two parted. 
 
 Turning abruptly to the right over the pathless snow, 
 the youthful rider gave rein to the steed, which flew as on 
 the wings of the wind. And yet the pace was not equal to 
 thoughts which pictured the joyous return to her mother 
 and Roland. She trembled at the thought of what might 
 have happened in her absence. 
 
CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 The afternoon was well-advanced when Partridge and 
 Parker, with some of their companions, arrived at the 
 cabin where Dick was found in possession, with a roaring 
 fire, to give a warm welcome in the name and by the 
 authority of Roland Priest. 
 
 " Dick, where is Mr. Clayton?" inqijired Partridge. 
 
 " Bless yer life, Mars Partridge, 'deed I don't know. 
 I saw him flyin' cross de kuntry lookin' fur all de worl' 
 like a snow-bird." 
 
 " Why didn't you go with him, Dick ? " 
 
 " Case he sent me heah wid dat young Mars Rolan' 
 wid a pris'ner w'at he took, an tol' us to gib him ober ter 
 Cap'n Brown, an we done done it, an' Mars Rolan' an' de 
 Cap'n done gone 'way on de road rejoicin', an' Mars 
 Rolan' say fer me ter stay heah an ter keep de fire agoin' 
 till you all come." 
 
 Then Dick continuing told of the prayer-meeting ; how 
 " de man kneel down on de snow an' de Cap'n prayed der 
 Lord ter turn dis heah sinner inter postle like Paul ob 
 Sarsus, an' ter gib him power to stop prosecutin' ob de 
 chillen ob de Lor', an' dat de good Lor' would gib ter de 
 Cap'n hisself de wise strength an' grace ter swaller up de 
 sinners in de Red Sea like de sons ob men done de chil- 
 len ob Israel under de faithful sarbint Moses, who did 
 lead dem a long time ago from a Ian ob freedom ter a 
 Ian' ob bondage." Here Dick became hopelessly con- 
 fused in his narrative upon observing his young Mars 
 Frank and his companion, who had entered unnoticed, 
 and were listening with much amusement. 
 
 Night was fast approaching, and still Roland Priest did 
 not come. After consultation among the party, all agreed 
 it would be best to remain in their present quarters until 
 morning, and make a fresh start for Lawrence on the fol- 
 lowing day. 
 
 Posting two pickets on each side of the creek, the little 
 party went to rest at an early hour, after many hearty 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 1 75 
 
 laughs at the individual and collective experiences of the 
 day. Claytcn retired late, after waiting in vain for the 
 return of Roland Priest, till, from utter exhaustion, he fell 
 into a profound sleep. 
 
 With the morning came the hurry and preparation for 
 the day's march to Lawrence, and careful inquiry was 
 made, whenever opportunity offered, as to where Roland 
 Priest's mother lived. 
 
 At Grasshopper Falls Clayton learned from a citizen 
 who knew Roland and his twin sister Isabel ; one who had 
 often seen them together out hunting, she being as fearless 
 a rider as he. " He is called ' Rolla' by his family and 
 ' Daredevil Roland' by others," said his informant. 
 
 And so the mystery was solved : Rolla and Roland 
 Priest were one and the same person. 
 
 Clayton was silent during the long ride to Lawrence, 
 recalling every word and look of the brave girl, and felt 
 that he had "entertained an angel unawares." 
 
CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 Arrived in Lawrence, Clayton and his party dispersed, 
 and but few citizens knew what had transpired in the res- 
 cue of Captain Brown. 
 
 Clayton wrote to his informant at Grasshopper Falls to 
 make further inquiry in regard to the Priest family ; and 
 some time later thereafter, was in receipt of a short note, 
 which ran as follows : 
 
 " House burned and family disappeared. If you are 
 interested, come up and aid me in searching out the guiltv 
 parties." 
 
 Clayton resolved to go at once. On the evening before 
 his departure, a letter was received from Captain Brown 
 stating that he had gotten his party safely through to a 
 land of freedom, and that Sam had been sent home, re- 
 joicing; that among the greatest of his disappointments 
 was strong opposition to his plans from friends upon whom 
 he had so confidently relied for material, as well as 
 moral, support. 
 
 " I am, however, resolved to make the grand effort, 
 come what will," he wrote. " For yourself, I can hardly 
 find words to express my thanks for your timely rescue." 
 
 " Now that I think of it, I beseech you to look up Roland 
 Priest and the messenger who was so badly wounded, and 
 insist on knowing both them and their needs. There is 
 that about this aflfair which I am not at liberty to com- 
 municate to you, but which you can easily learn by seeing 
 the parties. 
 
 "Roland delivered your message and your prisoner, 
 Livingstone, whom I subsequently found to be a desperate 
 man. We took him with four other prisoners several days 
 on our journey, retaining their horses and arms, allowing 
 tbem finally to go home on foot, wiser if not better men." 
 
 Soon after this, early in the month of May, Clayton 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. I77 
 
 with his friend from Grasshopper Falls were crossing the 
 ford of Danger Creek. Following the road that led to 
 Mrs. Priest's cottage home, they soon arrived at the mound 
 of ashes and the blackened beams that told the story of 
 border ruffianism and the reign of terror in Kansas. 
 
 All that could be learned was, that Dr. Russell had 
 taken the family to his own home, and they had now left 
 the Territor3\ 
 
 Five miles up the stream in a beautiful grove of timber 
 that skirted its banks, Dr. Russell's comfortable cottage 
 was found. On introducing himself and his errand, Dr. 
 Russell extended a hearty greeting as to an old friend, 
 long expected. 
 
 " Mr. Clayton," said the doctor, " I have been 
 hoping to see you for some time ; but, for the object of 
 your search, I fear you are too late. Mrs. Priest and her 
 family have left the Territory, never to return." 
 
 "It is not too late, if I can learn whither they have 
 gone," 
 
 " And that you can not have from me, Clayton, for I 
 do not know exactly ; and then I am forbidden to tell 
 what I do know." 
 
 " Doctor," said Clayton, " I am in possession of a 
 letter from Captain John Brown, an old friend of the fam- 
 ily, and he urges me to deliver certain messages to them in 
 person. You certainly have means by which you can com- 
 municate with them, and those means you can furnish me." 
 
 "Mr. Clayton, to be quite frank with you, for some rea- 
 son Miss Belle does not wish to have you know their 
 present abode. Under no circumstances, am I to be 
 compromised in the matter." 
 
 " Doctor, you are safe with me and you ought to know 
 that." 
 
 "Well, Mr. Clayton, then I will tell you this much. I 
 am instructed to communicate through the post-office at 
 Sacramento, California, whither the family have gone. 
 They left some weeks since with a large train of emi- 
 grants, and I think will abide in the mountains on Ro- 
 land's account." 
 
 "Are his wounds serious. Doctor?" 
 
 "Very, very serious; and he will never recover, in my 
 judgment. The ball could not be extracted, and is 
 lodged either in or near the left lung, and the injury is 
 
178 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 likely to involve the other at no distant day. I advised 
 the change to California for his benefit." 
 
 " May I be allowed to ask, Doctor," said Frank, flush- 
 ing, "what are their circumstances ? " 
 
 "They have enough for present needs ; and with the 
 indomitable courage, energy, and resources of Isabel, any 
 family would be assured against want. Why, sir, she is 
 a mine of wealth in herself ; she rises equal to any emer- 
 gency, however great." 
 
 Dr. Russell then gave Clayton an account of the raid 
 upon Mrs. Priest's cottage, which occurred the night after 
 Isabel's departure with the despatch. The picket who 
 shot Roland had also been wounded, and a party of 
 ruffians, thirsting for revenge, ordered the family out of 
 the house ; after which they fired the cabin, and from the 
 stables the family saw their home reduced to ashes. Dr. 
 Russell had them removed to his own house, and from 
 there they had started on their long journey to California. 
 
 Isabel, who returned so full of hope to their home that 
 winter morning, had found it desolate and in ruins; but 
 Dr. Russell had a messenger watching for her arrival, 
 who conducted her to his own house, where the little 
 family were gathered. 
 
 After the tears and excitement of the first meeting were 
 over, Isabel was again brave and strong; so, when Roland 
 was convalescing, by the doctor's advice, they decided to 
 seek a new home in California. 
 
CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 We invite the reader to turn back with us to a period 
 just prior to the Kansas difficulties, and enter a stately 
 mansion built upon the border of one of the small lake.'- 
 of western New York, in a thriving manufacturing town. 
 
 Seated in the library is a woman of forty, whose cleai- 
 cut features, dark intelligent eyes, indicate a rare com- 
 bination of refinement and good sense. A son and daugh- 
 ter, in w^hom the mother's features seemed reproduced in 
 a higher type of beauty, were seated at the table, and all 
 were attired in mourning. 
 
 At the opposite side of the library table sat a grave, 
 determined-looking man, with a face combining great 
 firmness with greater kindness. 
 
 "I am going," said he, "to make a new home and to 
 lend my aid in making Kansas a Free State, to erect a 
 wall of adamant to the north and westward beyond which 
 slavery shall not go ; and if you will allow Roland to go 
 with me, I promise a father's protecting care." 
 
 And so it was arranged, after further conversation, that 
 Roland should join John Brown's party of emigrants for 
 the territory of Kansas, while the widowed mother and 
 Isabel should remain for the present at the old home. 
 
 Roland Priest senior, had been partner in a large 
 manufacturing concern in western New York, as well as 
 director in a railroad company in which he had invested. 
 Of this large corporation. Colonel Vandergrip was presi- 
 dent and was known far and wide as a shrewd business 
 man, immensely wealthy, and almost as unscrupulous as he 
 was rich. His eldest son, Henry VV., had been taken into 
 the firm, also into the devious paths of his father in mak- 
 ing money. Colonel Vandergrip declared that if Henry 
 proved an adept he would make him sole heir to millions. 
 
 The son did not disappoint the father, for he inherited 
 his love of money ; but this did not prevent his falling a 
 victim to the charms of the beautiful and accomplished 
 Isabel Priest. 
 
l8o THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 As the young lady did not reciprocate his feelings, he 
 pressed his suit to the extent of appealing to her father, 
 who declined to coerce or unduly influence his daughter 
 in a matter so delicate ; and this course ofTended both 
 father and son. 
 
 "They're too proud of their learning and of their an- 
 cestry," said the colonel in a talk with his son. " Poverty 
 humbles people wonderfully, and I will give the Priests a 
 taste of that." 
 
 In the course of a few months, the wages of the oper- 
 atives were reduced in the factories, and the employes of 
 the railroad were put on starvation wages, until finally, 
 there was a general strike. The corporation held out, as 
 did the laborers. No revenues were received by the 
 stockholders, and the shares began to droop in the mar- 
 ket, lower and lower. Then certain overdue mortgages 
 held by the colonel were foreclosed, and thousands of 
 stockholders were, as the colonel expressed it, "neatly 
 frozen out." Among those who had fallen under the blow, 
 ruined and heart-broken, was Roland Priest the elder, 
 whose funeral had just preceded the opening of this 
 chapter. Colonel Vandergrip succeeded in all his plans 
 for amassing wealth, but the idol he worshipped could not 
 save him from the keen dart of death, which struck sud- 
 denly without warning, and in a few weeks after mourn- 
 ing friends had followed Roland Priest to the cemetery, 
 there was another grave near it, and before long a tall 
 marble shaft recorded the name and virtues of Colonel 
 Vandergrip. 
 
 Thus, Henry Vandergrip the son and heir, found 
 himself the head and chief owner of one of the largest 
 fortunes in the country. Months after Roland had gone 
 to Kansas, Isabel received a call from the rejected lover, 
 renewing his suit foi' her hand, and offering to lay mill- 
 ions at her feet in her own right and name. 
 
 Isabel looked proudly at her suitor as she replied : 
 " My father went to his grave a victim of your father's 
 greed for money. Do not ask me to share this ill-gotten 
 wealth. I wish none of it. Your victim would haunt me 
 by night and pursue me by day. 
 
 "Are you aware, Miss Isabel, that I o\\)i the roof that 
 protects you and yours ? " 
 
THE STORMV petrel. 161 
 
 " I did not know it, Mr. Vandergrip, or I would not 
 have been so long thus protected. I would far rather 
 have the open air, the sheltering arch of heaven, above me. 
 At this time to-morrow you shall not have occasion to 
 reproach me." 
 
 "Take time, Miss Isabel. You may change your 
 mind. I am in no hurry for your answer." 
 
 "You have my answer, sir; and I bid you good-morn- 
 ing," and with a wave of the hand he was dismissed. 
 
 On the following da}-, true to her word, Isabel Priest 
 and her mother quitted the house in which the children 
 were born. Hastily disposing of their household good-^. 
 they took the western-bound train, and three week.-, 
 later were domiciled in the log cabin in Kansas wherein 
 Roland Priest took refuge, fainting from the wound of a 
 border ruffian's bullet. 
 
CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 Frank Clayton felt there could be no rest for him till 
 he beheld once more the face which had shone by the 
 red light of the camp-fire that night in the wintry storm. 
 It haunted him, coming between him and everything he 
 attempted. 
 
 About the last of May he started with a party of emi- 
 grants, in canvas-covered wagons, drawn by horses and 
 mules. Some of his fellow-travellers were in search of 
 California gold, others of adventure, while he was in 
 quest of what might prove an ignis faiiius, but which none 
 the less lured him irresistibly and steadily on. 
 
 The first few days were without special adventures, 
 when there came one which was indeed crowded with 
 perils and excitement. 
 
 One morning when they had been moving for ten days 
 westward, Clayton mounted his horse and rode rapidly 
 ahead of the train as was his custom, to hunt game, which 
 abounded along the Republican Fork, up the course of 
 which they were now making head. 
 
 The sun was shining brightly on the green carpet of the 
 plains intervening between the ridge on which he rode 
 and the Republican River, some five miles away, though 
 it seemed not half as far. Great patches of wild flowers 
 here and there seemed like bouquets woven cunningly in 
 the texture to brighten and beautify the emerald covering 
 in this seeming fairyland, to which the dark line of tim- 
 ber skirting the river made a fitting border. 
 
 While contemplating this beautiful panorama, ever)' 
 moment changing, under the swaying breeze and the 
 shadows of fleecy clouds that sailed over the sun, he 
 heard a sharp whistle or hiss, like escaping steam under 
 great pressure. His horse wheeled quickly round, and 
 there standing but a hundred yards away was one of 
 the most beautiful animals he had ever beheld. A large 
 elk with full antlers had come up out of the valley and, 
 seeing an intruder, had given this signal to warn him off 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 1 83 
 
 the monarch's domain. His head erect, his muzzle pro- 
 truding, his large eyes gazing scornfully, filled with wonder 
 at such audacity, his form the very embodiment of grace, 
 his chestnut coat of velvet with the sheen of satin in the 
 morning sun, gave him the pose and almost the semblance 
 of an imperious and queenly woman. 
 
 Ever and anon, one of the front feet was brought down 
 on the earth with lightning rapidity and force which, with 
 the slight movements of the ears, was the only evidence 
 of life. 
 
 The horse, his rider, and elk, stood thus for a few 
 moments, seemingly lost in admiration, each of the 
 other. 
 
 Finally, Clayton raised his ritle, and in taking aim at 
 the beautiful beast, thought what a pity to mar such a 
 picture and to betray the confidence of such a noble 
 creature ! Evidently this monarch of the plains was only 
 acquainted with the Indians' rude bow and spear, and felt 
 secure in being out of range of either. 
 
 Lowering his rifle, Clayton surveyed, with increasing 
 delight, the beautiful head crowned with branching antlers. 
 
 " Falcon,'' said he, patting the horse's neck, " he looks 
 like you ; — the same color, not quite so large, his coat 
 not so glossy, eyes much the same, nostrils red and wide, 
 and in the place of your flowing mane, he wears the horns 
 ■ — and for tliat, we will bring him down." 
 
 He raised his rifle the second time, resolved to secure 
 the prize dead since he could not have it alive. 
 
 The elk, as if at last scenting danger, made one great 
 bound and cleared the ledge upon which he stood, then 
 disappeared under cover of the bluft' for some distance, 
 and emerged in the plain below, accompanied by several 
 others, none of whom had antlers. 
 
 Half-amused and half-chagrined, Clayton rode on 
 towards the west, thinking what an unsportsmanlike event 
 it was. " Many a man would have given a kingdom for 
 such an opportunity and I have let it slip, purely from 
 love of the beautiful." 
 
 Thus he thought as his agile horse bounded over the 
 plain below. Before reaching the wood skirting the 
 river, he slackened his pace and listened. He heard 
 a low rumbling sound which he detected as that of 
 a herd of bufifalo running. He had, not long to wait, 
 
1S4 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 for the vast plain was soon covered with a cloud 
 of dusky forms, crowded together in masses, push- 
 ing and being pushed, grunting and laboring on to- 
 ward the river, pursued by a party of Indians who 
 were striving to run the herd over the precipitous bank 
 of the river further down. 
 
 Clayton saw he was directly in ihe line of march of 
 these frightened beasts and knew the danger, but re- 
 lied on his skill and the fleetness of his horse to carry 
 him through any emergency. He only strove to get as 
 near the outskirts of the herd as possible, and in doing 
 so, espied a beautiful cow, dark and sleek as a mole. 
 
 Still suffering a little from mortification at the loss of 
 the elk, he resolved to have this prize in revenge. By 
 degrees, he came alongside, raised his rifle and fired. 
 The cow fell dead on the spot and Clayton sought to 
 check his horse and get out of the rush of the black, 
 woolly and irresistible torrent, but the report of his gun 
 had alarmed them more than the Indians, who were still 
 crowding them from the other side. The herd seemed 
 to know where the crossing was, and the danger of the 
 precipitous bank below, and they kept their course, bear- 
 ing Clayton on like a feather in the torrent. 
 
 On reaching the low shelving bank of the river, the 
 horse and its rider had no choice but to plunge in and 
 swim across with the wild and frightened beasts. In the 
 middle of the stream, he nearly lost his life in a jam of 
 the buffalos who were borne down the stream with eyes 
 and nostrils red and distended, the body submerged and 
 only head and horns above the muddy eddying tide. 
 
 As far as the eye could reach, there was but a strug- 
 gling mass of black heads and horns, dotting the water 
 thickl}', while upon either shore the great black hulks 
 were emerging, or plunging in. It required all Clayton's 
 presence of mind and energy to keep above the water 
 and out of the crowd. 
 
 After crossing the river, he found himself still borne on 
 yet by skilful movements he worked his way to the outer 
 edge of the herd and at the end of another hour's ride 
 was freed from his boisterous companions. He turned 
 his horse's head to retrace his steps, both feeling and 
 looking the worse for wear. Still he was determined not 
 to lose his dead buffalo. 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 185 
 
 It was late in the afternoon, after recrossing the river, 
 that he found his prize. He removed the hide, cut a 
 nice roast from the hump, strapped them on behind 
 his saddle, and struck out to overtake the train b}' bear- 
 ing up the river and striking the road some miles 
 ahead. 
 
 It was nearly dark when he reached the trail, but he 
 pressed onward with good heart. The sun had set in a 
 dark bank of cloud which, borne on the wings of the 
 wind, had soon overspread the heavens. Lightning flashed 
 from the black masses, making the darkness more dis- 
 mal, and he had to give Falcon the rein as he could no 
 longer see the trail. 
 
 Soon there arose in the distance, a blood-curdling cry 
 above the low rumbling of the approaching storm, which 
 caused horse and rider to shudder as it was followed in 
 quick succession by a similar cry in another quarter, only 
 nearer at hand. 
 
 " Steady, steady, Falcon. Those are only wolves that 
 scent our beautiful robe and fresh meat. We can out run 
 them, old boy. You hold to the path, and I'll hold to 
 the rein and revolver," as he suited the action to the 
 word. A few seconds elapsed and the cry was repeated 
 and answered, like signals from two attacking armies. 
 Again, at short intervals, was this fiendish and unearthly 
 ''Yi, yi, yi " hissing and cutting through the air, and 
 finally bursting in one grand demoniacal howling chorus. 
 
 Falcon seemed literally to fly, w'hile the flashes of 
 lightning revealed the way, as the fiends hung threaten- 
 ingly near on either flank, keeping pace with what they 
 deemed their prey. 
 
 Suddenly the gallant steed threw himself back upon 
 his haunches and gave a loud snort. The darkness 
 shrouded from the rider what the cause could be, and he 
 spoke again to the now thoroughly frightened steed : 
 
 " What's the matter, old boy ? " 
 
 At that instant, the heavens flashed on her electric 
 light, and lo ! a thousand hungry chops armed with 
 ivory spears, surmounted by twice as many phosphores- 
 cent lamps, looked hungrily toward their victim. To 
 make the peril worse, Clayton observed he had lost the 
 trail in trying to avoid the pack that had finally inter- 
 cepted further progress, 
 
l86 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 He levelled his revolver and fired six shots in quick suc- 
 cession as the lightning aided his aim. 
 
 At several shots, there was a sharp cry of pain, ending 
 in a loud wail of distress as the wounded beast was torn 
 into fragments and borne away by his hungry compan- 
 ions. 
 
 Falcon stood back upon his haunches with distended 
 eyes and nostrils, awaiting results. When the pack gave 
 way in the scramble for the blood of their kin, the horse 
 rallied and started forward. 
 
 Clayton checked him, and said : 
 
 " No, no, old fellow, we'll remain here ; they have 
 brought us to bay where we are protected upon two 
 sides at least by this ledge of rock and the steep river 
 bank." 
 
 Clayton feared to go forward, lest he lose the trail 
 entirely and the wolves, he knew, would soon renew the 
 attack. 
 
 Reloading his pistol, he dismounted and set fire to 
 some driftwood from the river at the foot of the ledge of 
 rocks, and by the light of the blaze, the eyes of his ene- 
 mies were easily sighted, and shot, only to be replaced by 
 others. 
 
 As he suspected, the pack soon returned and kept up 
 the siege until dawn, with an occasional charge more 
 desperate than before, when they would venture closer, 
 to yell and snarl louder and snap their teeth. 
 
 At each of these attacks, some one or more were sent 
 by Clayton's revolver howling away to the rear, borne 
 not in the arms but in the teeth of their comrades. 
 
 During the night of horror, the flickering fire and 
 flashes of lightning followed by deafening thunder, re- 
 vealed the besieging force, some sitting upon their 
 haunches, some prowling round, but all fearfully near 
 and on the watch. Falcon stood by the side of his mas- 
 ter, often pawing the ground fiercely, and snorting defiance 
 at the hungry brutes as they came too near. 
 
 With the dawn of morning, the disappointed pack 
 slunk away to their dens, and Clayton, mounting his 
 faithful steed, was soon riding rapidly on the trail, to be 
 met by his companions, some of whom had started back to 
 find their lo-^t comrade, and listened enviously to the 
 story cf his thrilling adventures. 
 
CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 At Independence Rock, on the banks of the Sweet 
 Water River, the train went into camp for general prep- 
 arations before departure from the old trail via Salt 
 Lake and entering the new one with General Lander, who 
 commanded the expedition, through the South Pass, at 
 this time an untried path. 
 
 General Lander's party of United States troops and 
 quite a number of civilians had joined the emigrant train 
 only a few days previously, among them being the distin- 
 guished artist Albert Bierstadt. 
 
 It was high noon when the train after several days' 
 rest moved out and crossed the Sweet Water River, a 
 sparkling mountain stream running through what is 
 called the " Devil's Gate," whose scenery combines the 
 awfully grand with the beautiful and picturesque. 
 
 The Sweet Water River, ages or cycles of centuries 
 ago, followed for a long way the jagged and eccentric 
 base of a spur of the Wind River Mountains as it tapers 
 to the plain on both sides. Here, the spirit of liberty 
 must have welled up in her bosom, and she made a 
 heroic dash against the narrow line of granite, cleaving 
 two perpendicular walls several hundred feet in height, 
 and when she debouched into the valley on the opposite 
 side, she celebrated the victory in one of Nature's most 
 perfect bowers, arched and crowned with wild roses and 
 all manner of climbing vines and flowers. 
 
 Clayton explored this spot, riding Falcon over broken 
 stones and jagged rocks, along the banks of the murmur- 
 ing stream, to where the angry waters were lashed to 
 fury and foam by huge fallen boulders. But the Sweet 
 Water that had cleft her way through such solid granite, 
 was not to be impeded by the de'bris ; and with a bound, 
 her laughing waters descend in a cascade of hundreds 
 of feet, waving in madcap style her white feathery mist 
 and spray that, like the white plume of Henry of Navarre, 
 is the signal of victory. 
 
l88 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 Reaching the impassable barrier, the horse who had 
 been given the rein as he entered this wonderful fairy- 
 land, now stopped, gazing at the beautiful spectacle in 
 wonder, his ears moving backward and forward as if 
 trying to measure the distance he would have to leap to 
 clear the noisy cataract. He finally lowered his head, 
 sniffed the ground and began to paw it lusiily ; then, 
 raising his head and gazing intently at the threatening 
 barriers to further progress, he snorted as if in defiance, 
 and turning his head to look at his master, he began to nib- 
 ble at the grass, as though to say, " We can go no farther." 
 
 Clayton sat upon the horse, wrapped in wonder 
 and admiration. As Falcon turned and retraced his 
 steps, his rider looked up through those great lips of 
 granite that seemed about to close and shut out the nar- 
 row line of bright light, — the only evidence of their not 
 being swallowed up by some great Ogre. 
 
 Just before emerging from this weird cafion, Clayton 
 observed a large birch-tree, overhung with masses of 
 vines and wild roses, a perfect bower, and he uncovered 
 his head as he entered. The sunlight glancing through 
 the branches, gave glimpses of the outer world with its 
 music of bird and bee, and he exclaimed : 
 
 " Thank God for life and light in this beautiful world 
 of ours." 
 
 Throwing himself upon the mossy carpet, he allowed 
 Falcon to nibble at the grass walls of his bower until 
 his daydream more than an hour later was disturbed by 
 a crash, and a mass of birch bark with clinging vines 
 came down near his head, and he remounted his 
 horse, then emerged from this enchanted grotto as the 
 rays of the setting sun were gilding in a glory of light 
 the lofty summit of Independence Rock. 
 
 From the drapery of vines, he ascended a green knoll, 
 when suddenly a sharp whistle sounded off to the right. 
 Turning his head in that direction, he observed Bierstadt 
 the artist making a sketch while his assistant was taking a 
 photographic view of the Devil's Gate which, in that 
 glorious sunset, was a thing of beauty, 
 
 Bierstadt waved his hand in sign that he was to stand 
 still — and Clayton drew rein just at the crest of the hill, 
 — Falcon standing with curved neck and proud mien, 
 tail and mane waving in the wind. 
 
THE STOR-MV PETREL. 189 
 
 "There," said Bierstadt, holding up his sketch, after 
 he found him "you make quite a respectable gatekeeper 
 for the 'Devil.' '' 
 
 Clayton knew that in going through the South Pass, he 
 was leaving the route taken by Roland Priest's family 
 and that he should next touch it at the crossing of Snake 
 River beyond old Fort Hall ; but there was no remedy, 
 as he could not go alone, and to wait for another train 
 was uncertain and hazardous. So he impatiently trod 
 the new and untried route, which in itself was full of 
 interesting adventure, through wild mountain scenery. 
 
 Climbing to almost unattainable heights to plant his 
 feet where no white man had stood before, was a stimu- 
 lant and a source of pleasurable excitement to a man of 
 his temperament. 
 
 On a hot July day, he stood near the top of Fremont 
 Peak. Here, with the eye of an artist, he beheld the 
 panorama of cloud and snow-capped mountains and 
 green valleys below as the threatening black clouds were 
 tipped with gold and reflected the glory of the sum- 
 mer's sun, giving an unearthly beauty and grandeur to 
 the magnificent scene. 
 
 He uncovered his head as though in divine presence, 
 when he was saluted by the screaming of a flock of ra- 
 vens and a great vulture flapped his sable wings in close 
 proximity to his head, with loud croaking, as if to frighten 
 the intruder. 
 
 Here he lingered, despite the warnings received from 
 the dusky winged messengers of this throne of snow and 
 the lengthening shadows of the lofty peaks, feeling the 
 charm which every lover of nature realizes when alone in 
 the great and awful presence of the Creator and His 
 wonderful works. Here, thought he, the worst infidel or 
 atheist would be forced to acknowledge the existence of 
 a God with powers surpassing the grandest conceptions 
 of the wisest and greatest of His creatures. 
 
CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 Leaving Fort Hall, the train of emigrants moved down 
 to Snake River Crossing, at which point, the old Salt 
 Lake trail was intersected, and where a portion of the 
 train diverged, en route to Oregon. 
 
 Here, Clayton found that a cut which Falcon had re- 
 ceived in his foot from a sharp rock upon the mountain 
 road, lamed him so as to make further travel impossible 
 for some days or perhaps weeks. The animal received 
 every attention from his master with human intelligence 
 and more than human appreciation. After several days' 
 tarry, Clayton resolved to push forward on foot, leaving 
 the horse in the care of a veterinary surgeon attached to 
 the train for Oregon, with special instructions to attend 
 him carefully, and that he be sent to him in California 
 when recovered. He dreaded the separation from the 
 noble steed, whose good qualities were legion and whose 
 tieetness almost equalled that of the royal swift-winged 
 bird for whom he was named. 
 
 The horse neighed in a coaxing way as his master ap- 
 proached, and, lifting his lame foot, held it from the 
 ground as if to attract attention. 
 
 Clayton stroked his mane, unfastened the bandages 
 about his foot, rebound them, gave the usual lumps of 
 sugar, and starting to go, with a heavy heart, was recalled 
 by a neigh in a kind of undertone that went to his heart. 
 Retracing his steps, he put his arms about the horse's 
 neck as he said : 
 
 "Good-bye, old boy. It's hard to part from you in 
 distress. Your sore foot does not limp worse than my 
 heart that goes halting away, God bless you. Yes, 
 Falcon, I see no reason why I might not ask His bless- 
 ing on one of His noblest creatures." 
 
 Harry Burke, the companion and guide, whom Clayton 
 had employed to accompany him, was impatiently await- 
 ing the leave-taking, and the two men slung their blank- 
 
THE STORMY PETREI,. 
 
 191 
 
 8ts, buckled on their revolvers — their only baggage — 
 and strode away. 
 
 Clayton turned and waved his hand to Falcon, who 
 stood looking intently as though he were trying to have 
 a last glimpse of his departing master. 
 
 After some days' travel, the pedestrians met a party of 
 miners, who warned them that only a few days before, an 
 emigrant train had been surprised at a point called Chim- 
 ney or Cathedral Rock, fifteen miles farther on, and a 
 number of men, women and children murdered by the 
 Indians. 
 
 With an anxious heart, Clayton continued his journey, 
 until they came in sight of this one of Nature's greatest 
 curiosities. 
 
 These rocks are of a grayish sand formation, and rise 
 above the surrounding plain from one to three hundred 
 feet in height, tapering in all fantastic circular shapes 
 from a base of thirty to one hundred feet in diameter, 
 and terminating in a perfect cone; and of these chimneys 
 or spires, there were more than a hundred in regular ir- 
 regularity, of from fifty to one hundred feet apart. Evi- 
 dently, when hoary old Time was a mere boy, these 
 cathedral towers were part and parcel of a spur or moun- 
 tain of sandstone, and Nature had been at work with her 
 levelling processes, leaving here and there a pile, a shaft, 
 or monument, to her once lofty greatness. And through 
 this wonderful group, the road wound its serpentine 
 course. 
 
 A few ravens were perched here and there on the 
 high pinnacles, like specks of crape as tokens of mourn- 
 ing for the unfortunate women and children who had so 
 recently perished near by. Just as they were emerging 
 from this city of the dead, Clayton observed some re- 
 mains of a wagon and fragments of garments near the 
 base of one of these monuments, and he turned aside to 
 examine them with a heart full of apprehension lest some 
 chance proof should reveal the identity of the unfortu- 
 nates with the object of his great love and long search. 
 Blood-stains were found here and there upon stones and 
 bits of clothing, revealing nothing beyond the heroic but 
 fruitless struggle of the victims and the fiendish brutal- 
 ity of the savages. A woman's slipper and a long tress 
 of dark hair were among the debris, and Clayton stood 
 
192 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 horror-stricken at the picture this called up of the unfor- 
 tunate travellers and their possible identity with those 
 for whom he was searching. 
 
 " Come," said Harry, " let us go forward ; for I see far 
 up the trail what seems to be a party of Indians coming 
 this way. 
 
 "Where.'' Let me see them?" anxiously inquired 
 Clayton, putting his hand on his revolver. " I could slay 
 a race of savages for such an outrage as has been perpe- 
 trated here." 
 
 The approaching party of six or seven Indians came 
 leisurely on foot. 
 
 " It is madness to attack them," exclaimed Harry 
 Burke, " and we cannot retreat." 
 
 "No," said Clayton, "we must go forward and meet 
 them ; — put on a bold front as though a large train were 
 at hand." 
 
 Acting on the suggestion, the two men moved on. 
 
 Seeing a large rabbit, Clayton drew his revolver and 
 shot it ; then hastily reloading, he picked up the dead 
 hare and walked on ; — both men with revolver in hand. 
 
 Soon, the Indians came up and saluted them : 
 
 " How, how ; me want caps ? " 
 
 " No," replied Clayton, unmoved, as both men walked 
 on. "Go back," — and he pointed over his shoulder; 
 "big train; heap caps," and the two men turned round, 
 walking backward, on their way talking to the Indians 
 about the approaching train that was more than a dozen 
 miles away. As soon as they were out of sight of the In- 
 dians, Clayton and Burke took up a pace that put many 
 miles between them and the savages before the ruse was 
 discovered. 
 
 After ten days of weary marching, they reached the 
 banks of the Humboldt River, down which their course 
 now lay to where it sinks from human sight, and the great 
 desert begins. The waters of this wonderful river were 
 quite brackish, as the thirsty travellers found on reach- 
 ing the banks, and they looked longingly for a spring from 
 which to drink. 
 
 At intervals of eight or ten miles, a cool rippling stream 
 found its way into the sluggish river from the range of 
 mountains that hung like a dark curtain eastward, while 
 in the west was an endless plain of sand and sage- 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 1^3 
 
 brush, reminding one that this vast expanse might at 
 one time have been the bed of a great ocean, with its 
 mountain coast toward the east. Many a night these two 
 men pillowed their weary heads upon a mound of sand 
 and made their beds of the same accommodating material, 
 literally covered with a blanket to keep off the myriads of 
 mosquitos of fabulous size that infest the region, pro- 
 tected only by the sagebrush, the darkness, and the over- 
 arching heavens. They durst not make a fire, to smoke 
 and keep off the vermin and wolves, lest its light should 
 direct and tempt some roving savages to steal upon them 
 and commit murder. The blankets defied the mosquitos, 
 and the Indians were left to take chances with their more 
 wolfish neighbors in finding the prey. 
 
 At a point near the sink of the Humboldt, where its 
 waters were thick with alkali, at noontide when the sun's 
 power was at its zenith, Clayton and his companion were 
 delighted to discover a sparkling stream that ran laugh- 
 ingly across the road, to be swallowed up in the Naseus 
 River near by. Foot-sore and weary, Burke threw aside 
 his Indian moccasins and waded joyfully into the stream, 
 but with a bound and yell, rushed out on the other side 
 and falling upon his back with his feet aloft, looking like 
 two cooked lobsters, he cried lustily for help. 
 
 " Is it a snake bite .? " asked Clayton. 
 
 "Snake bite," exclaimed his suffering companion, "I 
 am scalded, terribly." 
 
 The spring was of volcanic origin, and the beautifully 
 clear waters came boiling and bubbling up from subterra- 
 nean fires only a few rods from the trail. 
 
 Clayton remembered the practice of his mother, to 
 apply a strong solution of soda to a burn : so he led, or 
 rather half carried his friend to the brink of the Hum- 
 boldt River, reeking with alkali, where the unfortunate 
 guide plunged his feet into its waters, and soon the lines 
 of pain left his face. In twenty minutes the skin was 
 restored to its normal condition, and the two pedestrians 
 resumed their journey an hour or so afterward. At ten 
 o'clock on the following morning, they arrived where the 
 great river sinks out of sight, and, like the stream of life, 
 ended, swallowed up by mother earth, leaving a whitened 
 line — a spectre finger, pointing the way to the great here- 
 after that, to the materialist, lies like the desert, only 
 
ig4 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 dead matter, the future stretching out. beyond the ken of 
 man. 
 
 At this point there was a small trading-station, and the 
 old man who kept it, advised the two travellers to rest 
 during the day and make the entrance on the desert in 
 the cool of the evening, and thus make most of the jour- 
 ney by night. 
 
 The old pioneer's advice was taken, and the day spent 
 in rest and preparation for the march over the desert. 
 Clayton inquired of the men for information concerning 
 the massacred family and the one for which he was in 
 search, but could get no tidings. 
 
 The sun set in a kind of smoky cloudless sky like a ball 
 of fire, and the full moon rose in the east, equally as large 
 and only a little less lurid, as the two men paid the host 
 for the meagre fare and set out on their desolate jour- 
 ney. 
 
 The road in the desert was smooth and hard, unlike the 
 dust and sand encountered up to this point, and the men 
 walked briskly along, unmindful of what was curtained 
 from them in front by night and distance. Two hours 
 passed ; conversation flagged and whistling took its 
 place, but the notes died away in the great expanse that 
 was spread out before them like a silver carpet, as the 
 alkali sparkled in the moonlight, covering everything like 
 frost. After a long silence, Burke, broke out, with : 
 
 " I'll be d d, Clayton, if I don't wish I could hear 
 
 an owl hoot; — one of those regular old Indian backwoods 
 owls that can just everlastingly make the welkin ring. It 
 would be real cheerful music in this great grave-yard. 
 Now, let us stop and see if we can hear anything." And 
 the two men stood silent for a moment. " Oh, confound it, 
 Clayton, go further away; that old watch of yours makes 
 as much noise as a train of empty freight cars on a down 
 grade. There, that will do," added Burke, as his com- 
 panion had gone forward some twenty paces. 
 
 After a short silence, the profane Hoosier said in awe- 
 inspiring tones : 
 
 " My heart keeps such an everlasting thumping and 
 bumping, I can't hear anything else. Why, I hear the 
 blood circulating in my veins like mountain streams. My 
 very joints creak on their hinges, and the sands of time 
 rattle into the past like clods on a coffin. What in thun- 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 195 
 
 der is that, Clayton ? " pointing with his finger to an 
 object that sparkled in the moon's rays like frost on a 
 snow bank. " As I am a sinner, that is a spectre ship. 
 See its great white sails, bare masts, and its freight of 
 skeletons with eyes that give a phosphorescent glare. 
 Look ! the light of the moon shiners through her hull, and 
 her huge ribs form great shadows on the molten sea of 
 silver. Hold, Clayton ! Don't go near it," continued the 
 terror-stricken man, as his companion walked forward to 
 the object of horror. 
 
 "There," said Clayton, "come here, Burke, and man 
 this phantom ship," and he kicked over with his foot the 
 bleached bones of some huge ox that had perished and 
 whose skeleton had been left by the wayside intact. 
 
 On through the silent night, the weary travellers 
 plodded, and the "spectre ships" grew more and more fre- 
 quent and the broken fragments of wagons and all manner 
 of travelling paraphernalia literally lined the road side,- 
 but all alike shimmering" with the frosted alkali. 
 
 Among the debris, a human skull was seen, its silvery 
 coat making it more ghastly. 
 
 " If we don't leave our own skeletons here to bleach in 
 this alkali, we shall be fortunate," remarked Harry Burke 
 gloomily, turning from the skull with a shudder. 
 
 Pointing to the thousands of wagon tires that lined the 
 road for miles, where they were left in '49 and '50 by the 
 gold-hunters, Clayton said with a laugh : 
 
 " This looks like a tired world, Burke, and if you are 
 not afraid of her ' phantom ships ' here, seat yourself 
 upon the great hub and let the weary orb roll on." 
 
 " Clayton, you were born to punish mankind and you 
 will die to afflict his satanic majesty," responded Burke, 
 seating himself upon the old wagon hub beside the skel- 
 eton of a great ox. After resting themselves, the men 
 set out again on their desolate tramp, as the evidence of 
 former dissolution grew thicker and more awful. 
 
 It was early on an August morning, 1859, when the 
 two men emerged from the desert, foot-sore, thirsty, 
 weary, and feeling ten years older than when they began 
 the forty mile march through the great American desert. 
 They seated themselves upon the porch of what was 
 called an " hotel," but looked like a cross between an ark 
 and an "ambulance, constructed as it was of every conceiv- 
 
196 THE STORMY PETREL, 
 
 able material of travelling vehicle, that had been brought 
 together from the odds and ends of the eartli. Some 
 vines were growing over, and a few stunted trees 
 shadowed it. The rippling waters of a stream gave a 
 freshness to the spot, and it seemed a haven of rest, an 
 oasis in the desert, to the tired and wayworn travellers 
 after the journey through the alkali sands. 
 
 Arriving at Sacramento, California, after a weary march 
 over the Sierra Nevada mountains, Clayton rested from 
 his long journey, and finally learned that a note had been 
 received by the postmaster requesting mail matter for 
 the Priest family to be forwarded to Coultersville, a 
 mining camp far up in the foot-hills of the Sierras. 
 
 To this point, Clayton betook himself, and, in response 
 to his inquiries, was informed that no letters had been 
 received or inquired for by any one named Priest. Feel- 
 ing assured that Coultersville was the place for him to 
 wait and watch, there he remained. 
 
CHAPTER XL. 
 
 Isabel Priest sat gazing alternately at the glorious 
 panorama before her and at her sketch-book, where she 
 was striving to imprison some of the majestic lines which 
 made the view from the Giant's Elbow so glorious. 
 
 It was growing rapidly dark from an approaching 
 thunder-storm, bringing out a stronger and more sombre 
 beauty in the scene. She longed to stay and finish her 
 sketch, but large drops of rain warned her. that she must 
 return. So, gathering her drawing materials together, 
 she turned toward the path, and was startled to see a man 
 obstructing her way in the narrow pass between two 
 rocks. She saw no way of making a detour, so said : 
 
 "Pardon me, sir; I shall have to trouble you to allow 
 me to pass." 
 
 He turned. It was Henry Vandergrip. 
 
 " So you are the mountain nymph who guards this 
 sylvan spot .' " 
 
 "Will you allow me to pass, sir.'' You forget that we 
 are strangers — here and elsewhere." 
 
 " Oh, now. Miss Belle, don't be so severe on a poor 
 fellow who has come so far '' 
 
 " Why did you come ? " said she, turning upon him eyes 
 which made him shrink and quail. " I thought I had 
 found a spot where I should be in peace and never en- 
 dure your persecution more." 
 
 "Take care, my fine young lady ! " he answered, with 
 an ugly scowl. "Take care! You had better measure 
 your words rather more carefully, or by Heaven ! I will 
 not be answerable for what I do." And, brave though 
 she was, the girl felt her heart stand still as she saw the 
 demon wdiich had come to the surface and was looking 
 out of his bloodshot eyes. 
 
 " Please allow me to pass, Mr. Vandergrip," she said, 
 quietly. " Roland is waiting for me just below there." 
 
 She knew well he was at home, poor girl ; but the end 
 justified the means. 
 
198 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 "No, by the Eternal, I will not let you go! And this 
 ]ias got to be settled here and now forever. I have been 
 tormented by your d — d handsome face long enough, and 
 I'm not going to stand it any longer; and if you will not 
 be my wife, why, d — n it, I don't care so much for this 
 infernal existence, and I shall die and take you with me. 
 Do you hear ? '' And before she could evade his grasp, 
 his arms held her in his desperate embrace. 
 
 Seeing her peril, she had given one wild cry for "Ro- 
 land ! Help ! " A moment later a heavy hand fell upon 
 Vandergrip's shoulder, and sent him reeling twenty 
 paces away, while a rough voice seemed attempting to 
 modulate its tones in reassuring the terrified girl ; then 
 the rescuer turned to the slender youth who was picking 
 himself up, and brushing off the leaves and dirt. 
 
 " Cur ! Coward ! " he exclaimed, in wrathful contempt. 
 
 " How dare you ! " said Vandergrip, stung by the in- 
 sult in Belle's presence. 
 
 '• How dare I ? I think, young man, you have done 
 enough harm in this world for a fellow of your size. 
 Now," with a fierce grip on his shoulder, " down on your 
 knees, and ask the forgiveness of this lady, or by all 
 that's sacred, I'll throw you over the cliff. I will, by 
 Heaven ! " 
 
 " Release me first, and I will do it," said the fellow, 
 humbly. 
 
 The iron muscles relaxed, and Vandergrip was free. 
 He sprang to his feet, instead of kneeling, gave one 
 bound to the ledge of rock above them, and was almost 
 out of sight in a moment. 
 
 Like a lion deprived of its prey, the wrathful giant dis- 
 appeared through the brushwood, and the horror-stricken 
 girl saw him, in another instant, emerge with the cringing 
 form of Vandergrip held high over his head. He strode 
 to the very brink of the awful abyss, then, poising him in 
 the air, he hurled him straight out with the force and mo- 
 mentum of an engine. Like an arrow shot from the bow 
 the doomed man went out, out, over the yawning chasm 
 until the propelling force waned, then down, down, to the 
 fathomless bottom of rocks below, and on the evening air 
 was heard a wail like that of a lost spirit as he disap- 
 ]3eared through the branches of the lofty pines beneath. 
 
 The young girl and her rescuer stood like statues on 
 
THE STORIVIY PETREL. 1 99 
 
 the cliff above as they heard that blood-curdhng cr\-, he 
 with arms upraised and still extended, just as he had let 
 go the form of Henry Vandergrip, every muscle drawn 
 to its utmost tension, his form strained to its greatest 
 height. He then stooped, as if gathering all his energies 
 for one last and mighty leap, his face convulsed with des- 
 perate resolve, nostrils distended, eyes wild with a fixed 
 stare, as though already peering into the eternity beyond. 
 
 Isabel divined his intention, and, with her nerves 
 wrought up to meet the awful emergency, seized his arm, 
 saying : " Stop ! For God's sake, do not leave me alone 
 in this horrible place ! I need your aid, my kind friend. 
 Do not be cruel!'' She kept her eyes fixed upon his 
 and her hand upon his arm. 
 
 After a few moments the expanded chest relaxed, with 
 a long sigh ; the arm, the muscles of which had retained 
 their iron tension, sank gradually to his side, as he per- 
 mitted himself to be led step by step backwards to a place 
 of safety. 
 
 " What will you have me do .'' " said the man hoarsely, 
 his herculean chest heaving like the bosom of old ocean 
 even after the storm had subsided. '' You have saved me 
 from going out of the world in bad company, perhaps to 
 be launched into eternity at the rope's end. No matter ; 
 I am here. Do Avith me as you like." 
 
 He was saved, thank God ! Then, the tension being 
 removed, all the horrible scene came before her, and she 
 felt the world growing black and sense benumbed. For 
 many moments Ben was trying to revive the unconscious 
 girl with water from a spring near them ; and, at last the 
 quivering eyelids showed returning life, and, pale as ashes, 
 she tried to stand and to regain control of her sus- 
 pended powers. 
 
 " My God, this is horrible, horrible ! " she said, shudder- 
 ing as she looked at the brow of the cliff. " How did it 
 all happen ? How did he" — and she looked shudderingly 
 toward the fatal spot — " how did he know I was here ? 
 And you — how did it happen that you came ? " 
 
 " Miss Isabel, do you not know me ? I am Ben 
 Hoadly. I laid in the grave my father, broken like your's 
 in body and mind under the grinding greed of ihe Van- 
 dergrips. In my first lonely hours, I resolved to ^tV/ 
 Henry Vandergrip, in such manner as would be a 
 
206 THE STORMY PETREL, 
 
 warning to others engaged as he and his father had been 
 before him. Since then I have been his shadow. Thank 
 God, I was here to-day to save you from a brute who 
 richly deserved his terrible faie ! " 
 
 ''You must go away from here. This dreadful tragedy 
 will become known and suspicion will attach to you. 
 Come this evening to our cottage at ' The Eagle's Nesi.' " 
 
 Her courage returned as she saw this man's peril, and 
 she was strong again. 
 
 Ben Hoadly arose and, lifting the fringed corner of a 
 long scarf thai hung loosely about Isabel's neck, he kissed 
 it reverently. Then, bowing low, he said : " I obey," 
 and departed under the edge of the cliff where Clayton 
 had seen him disappear in the morning. 
 
CHAPTER LI. 
 
 When Henry Vandergrip was struggling" in the iron 
 grasp of Ben Hoadly, a party of miners were prospecting 
 on the banks of the Merced River with pan, pick, and 
 rocker, when there suddenly came from the cliffs above 
 and the cloud-capped peaks of the Giant's Elbow, a 
 shower of blood, fragments of Hesh, and shreds of cloth- 
 ing, spattering through the lofty pines, filling even those 
 rough miners with horror. 
 
 A wailing sound had preceded the horrible shower, 
 and one of the men declared that the day of judgment 
 had come and a rain of fire would succeed that of flesh 
 and blood. 
 
 In the breast pocket of the coat were found letters ad- 
 dressed : 
 
 " Henry \V. Vandergrip, 
 
 Coultersville, Cal." 
 
 Inquiry at the hotel in Coultersville disclosed the name 
 of " Henry W. Vandergrip, New York." He had been 
 stopping there several days, but had not been seen for 
 twenty-four hours. He was accustomed to ramble in the 
 mountains, the clerk said, and had been heard to speak 
 of the beautiful view from Giant's Elbow. 
 
 One of the miners had seen Mr. Vandergrip fre- 
 quently, and had done some little business in the matter 
 of finding for him the residence of a faimily named Priest, 
 and had only that evening seen him talking and walking 
 near the extreme point of the Giant's Elbow with the 
 beautiful young lady who lives at " The Eagle's Nest" ; and 
 who, he believed, was Miss Priest. 
 
 An informal inquest was held next day. Among the 
 witnesses summoned was Miss Priest, who was the last 
 person seen with the deceased. 
 
 When the facts as stated had been proven, " Miss Isa- 
 bel Priest will now be sworn!" said the pompous little 
 
202 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 man' who bad been chosen to conduct the examination 
 because he had a Httle smattering of the law and was 
 therefore called "Judge " at the camp. 
 
 Frank Clayton, drawn simply by curiosity, had entered 
 the crowded improvised court-room just as the above 
 words were uttered. Hearing that name, so sacred to 
 him, spoken there in such a place and amid such a scene 
 — good God ! What did it mean .'' His heart beat so vio- 
 lently he could hear nothing but its pulsations. In 
 another moment he had realized that no one had re- 
 sponded to the strange summons ; and after a pause, 
 which seemed to him an age, the constable said : 
 
 " Miss Priest refuses to testify, your Honor." 
 
 " That is contempt of court," said the little man in the 
 seat of judgment ; " and you will arrest her, Mr, Officer, 
 for that offense, and also as a suspected party to the mur- 
 der, as she was the last person seen with the deceased." 
 
 In another instant Frank, self-possessed and pale, was 
 on his feet. 
 
 " May it please your Honor, I would like to speak with 
 this lady." 
 
 " Who are you ? " inquired the pompous judge. 
 
 " My name is Clayton, an attorney-at-law ; and I wish 
 to advise with the defendant." 
 
 " No tricks of the law here, Jedge ? " shouted two or 
 three voices. " We can deal out justice without law or 
 lawyers." 
 
 " Silence in the court ! " again vociferated the little 
 man, on his mettle that he should be dictated to by the mob 
 that had made him. "The prisoner is entitled to a fair 
 trial and also to counsel. Mr. Officer, bring the prisoner 
 here, or conduct the gentleman to the prisoner." 
 
 Was it possible he was about to see her ? How he had 
 looked forward to and longed for that moment ! And why 
 was she here ? These were the questions that sped like 
 lightning flashes through Frank's mind, as he followed the 
 officer to a remote corner of the room ; and soon, he found 
 himself standing before a lady dressed in black and 
 thickly veiled. 
 
 Was it his imagination, or did the hand he took in his 
 own tremble as she said, very simply : 
 
 " I have heard my brother speak of you often, Mr. Clay- 
 ton." 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 203 
 
 With what a thrill of delight Clayton recognized the 
 voice which had been ringing in his ear every step of the 
 way across the continent, luring him on with its strange 
 sweetness ! 
 
 But she was in peril ; she needed his help ; that thought 
 was uppermost now. 
 
 " Miss Priest, will you entrust yourself to me in this 
 matter? I presume there is some mistake — some misap- 
 prehension here. You will have to give me some idea of 
 the position you wish to take." 
 
 She spoke very calmly as she answered : "I am not 
 guilt}^, Mr. Clayton ; I know the man who threw Henry 
 Vandergrip over the precipice, but I would suffer for the 
 deed myself rather than reveal his name. The rest I 
 leave to you." 
 
 With what a jealous pang he heard this avowal ! She 
 seemed slipping away from him just as he believed he had 
 found her. But, setting aside every thought in his deter- 
 mination to screen her from this horrible charge, he 
 approached the judge, saying : 
 
 " May it please the Court, we recognize the fact, that 
 though this trial is wholly without form of law, yet there 
 is great necessity for prompt and speedy justice. That 
 we shall have patient hearing and a verdict in accord- 
 ance with the facts and the evidence we see plainly in the 
 countenances of the twelve honest men to whom, though 
 convened as a coroner's jury, we most willingly submit 
 our case and the evidence that has been adduced." 
 
 " That's fair and a square hand ; no bluff or call for a 
 new deal in that, pard ! " shouted one of the crowd. 
 
 "Silence in court!" again called the judge. "No in- 
 terrupting the gentleman when he is speaking." 
 
 "Your Honor, and you, gentlemen of the jury, will 
 please remember that one of the witnesses testified to see- 
 ing the accused talking with Mr. Vandergrip only a little 
 while before the time when the miners were overwhelmed 
 with the shower of human fragments, and upon that 
 slender thread hangs this horrible charge. 
 
 "If the court please, the witnesses who have examined 
 the edge of the cliff from whence the deed was committed, 
 testify to foot-prints, and evidences of a fearful struggle ; 
 but, in what manner, I would ask, could the accused at- 
 tack or struggle upon the brink of that fearful precipice 
 
204 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 with a powerful man in full health, as the deceased was in 
 life ? 
 
 " Again, one or more of the miners who have examined 
 the spot from above and below, testify that he must have 
 been propelled by a power almost superhuman, before he 
 began that fearful descent. No one of you, gentlemen of 
 the jury, can have any idea that this feeble girl could have 
 accomplished this horrible deed in the manner shown." 
 
 "That's so, that's so," shouted a voice in the crowd. 
 " She never done it." 
 
 " Order in court. We can't proceed without order," 
 vociferated the judge. 
 
 " May it please your Honor," continued Clayton, " and 
 you, gentlemen of the jury, there must have been some 
 mysterious force to have accomplished this terrible result, 
 entirely independent of, and beyond the power of the ac- 
 cused. And let me beg of you, one and all, not to con- 
 strue the silence of this timid girl into an admission of 
 guilt, for there is none of you here who is without sisters, 
 mother, or some one dear to you, at your homes toward 
 the rising sun, and does not the remembrance of them ex- 
 cite your pity and enlist j'our sympathies for the orphan 
 girl, thrown by rough fortune here among you brave men 
 on the western wilds of the Sierras ? The only woman 
 among you here, is it strange that she should tremble and 
 be voiceless .'' 
 
 " Determined, brave men, clamoring for justice, would 
 not knowingly injure the innocent, and especially an un- 
 protected woman." 
 
 " We will protect her. It would be a sorry day for any 
 chap in this here ranch, what 'd tech a har of her head," 
 said the leader of the band of miners, who had brought 
 I he remains of Henry Vandergrip in the rocker, and 
 now sat listening to the lawyer's statement. 
 
 " That's so, that's so," joined in the crowd, 
 
 "And now, may it please your Honor, and you, gen- 
 tlemen of the jury," continued the advocate with deep 
 emotion, "into your hands I commit the cause of this in- 
 nocent girl, and ask you to do by her as you would have 
 other brave men do by your daughters, wives or sweet- 
 hearts, under like circumstances, feeling assured that you 
 will permit no harm or injustice to come near her sa- 
 cred person," 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. ^O^ 
 
 " We'll see to that, stranger, you can bet your bottom 
 dollar on that hand," said an old miner, who found a 
 hundred echoes — "That's so, that's so." 
 
 The Court shouted " Silence ! " and called on the 
 officer to enforce order. 
 
 Clayton returned to his client amid an ovation of 
 hearty hand-shakes from the rough but honest miners, 
 and the defendant gave him cordial thanks for the dexter- 
 ous manner in which he had won over the crowd. 
 
 After order had been restored, the judge asked if " Col- 
 onel Simms " was in court, as he desired the prosecution 
 properly conducted. 
 
 Colonel Simms responded, and took his place before the 
 jury. He opened by saying that he was loth to be placed 
 in so ungallant a position as to prosecute a lady. 
 
 "Then, yer'd better not," exclaimed an old miner, who 
 had been silent up to this time. 
 
 " That's so ; yer better pass out on that hand, Colonel," 
 echoed another voice. 
 
 "But," continued the colonel, not noticing the remarks 
 of the crowd, " I am called upon on behalf of the court 
 and the people whom it represents, to see that the guilty 
 shall not go unpunished. 
 
 "The eloquent gentleman who has just taken his seat, 
 was very shrewd in covering up one of the gravest 
 charges against his client : that of contempt of court, 
 under the cloak of timidity on the part of the then wit- 
 ness, now prisoner at the bar. 
 
 " It is fair to presume the witness refuses to testify, lest 
 she may criminate herself as a party to this atrocious 
 murder. 
 
 " Of course, all the circumstances point to an accomplice, 
 and we are not called upon to show the motive or object 
 that the fair prisoner had in committing or abetting the 
 murder.'" 
 
 " That's false as hell ! " thundered a voice from 
 the crowd and Ben Hoadly, seemingly with one great 
 stride, brought his giant form beside the speaker, hatless, 
 with tattered garments, dishevelled hair, and eyes ablaze 
 with indignation. 
 
 One heavy hand he laid upon the shoulder of Colonel 
 Simms with the iron grasp of a Hercules, while with the 
 other clenched fist, he literally split into fragments the 
 
.2d6 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 pine table the colonel had been pounding, as he repeated 
 his assertion : 
 
 "It's false as hell! and if the base insinuation is re- 
 peated, I'll tear that sacrilegious tongue out by the roots." 
 
 Isabel Priest grasped the arm of Clayton at the sound 
 of Ben Hoadly's voice, saying : 
 
 "Oh, there he is! Quick, Mr. Clayton, don't let him 
 speak ! " But Ben Hoadly brushed Clayton and all else 
 aside. 
 
 " I am responsible " — and then he stopped, as Isabel 
 Priest, who had eluded Clayton and struggled through the 
 crowd, reached his side, saying in anguish : 
 
 "Hush, Ben Hoadly! Do, for my sake, be silent!" 
 
 " No, Miss Belle ; for your sake I have spoken ; and I 
 have already gone too far to retrace. Let me now tell 
 the whole story and abide the consequences." 
 
 "That's so. Miss; let him make a clean breast 
 of it now," exclaimed the old miner at the post of chief 
 mourner. "You needn't fear for yourself; no, nor for 
 him nuther," he added, soothingly ; " he's a brave one an' 
 is gwinter tell ther truth." 
 
 "Let the giant tell the story ; let him talk!" said the 
 crowd. 
 
 "Yes," remarked Colonel Simms ; " but first let go my 
 shoulder," which had been held firmly during the inter- 
 ruption. 
 
 Without seeming to notice anything further than to re- 
 lax his hold on the silenced and frightened colonel, Ben 
 Hoadly gazed at the retreating form of Isabel Priest as 
 she was led to her seat by Frank Clayton; then, drawing 
 himself up to his full height, nearly seven feet, he con- 
 tinued the incomplete sentence. 
 
 " I am responsible for the death of that man and I 
 stand here to answer to the honorable court and this 
 jury, as well as to my God, for this deed ; and I ask your 
 patience while I relate the moving cause of this act upon 
 which it is your duty to pass sentence, acquittal or con- 
 demnation ; and, whatever it shall be, I promise to abide 
 by it, without murmur," 
 
 " That's fair." 
 
 " Nuthin sneakin 'bout that." 
 
 " Go ahead, stranger. He's a big one, ain't he ? " 
 shouted the crowd. 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 207 
 
 "Gentlemen of the jury, my liome was in the western 
 part of York Slate, and my father and I were in the 
 employ of the firm of Vandergrip & Priest, wealthy manu- 
 facturers. The senior partner was father of that — -dead 
 man. 
 
 "There was a deliberate plan to break down and ruin 
 financially, the junior member of the concern, Mr. Priest, 
 because his daughter, there," (pointing to Isabel) "refusetl 
 the hand of \oung Vandergrip. In order to accomplisii 
 this unworthy object, there was a reduction of wages to 
 starvation prices, followed by a strike of the workmen in 
 self-defence ; closing of the mills, followed by months of 
 idleness and distress. 
 
 " Broken in fortune and in health, Mr. Priest died, leav- 
 ing a desolate family. 
 
 " In this wreck perished also my own father, mother and 
 sister. This young lady was still persecuted by Vander- 
 grip and, as all their property had passed into his hands, 
 her family left for the Territory of Kansas and subsequently 
 made California their home. Here they were tracked by 
 young Vandergrip ; and, my own family being ruined and 
 dead, I followed him. I did not know why, but God per- 
 haps sent me to protect that young girl." Then, turning 
 to the rough miners, he continued in a lower voice : 
 " You all have mothers, some of you sisters in the 
 States, whose memory is dear to you ; and I take it every 
 man here would do as I did to save from such a ruffian a 
 frail girl, helpless, and struggling for life. Yes, you 
 would have killed him, as I did." 
 
 " That's so, that's so, pardner ! stake yer bottom dust on 
 that, old fel ! " shouted the crowd, as the Court commanded 
 silence again and again. 
 
 " This is true to you, men who are strangers to her and 
 her cause ; but for my part, who know her well, and all 
 that she has suffered from him, the man who lays violent 
 hands on her, or wags his tongue in disparagement of her 
 good name, I'd pulverize him if he were the last man on 
 earth, and the Creator had forgotten how to make any 
 more." 
 
 " Served him right ! Served him right ! " shouted the 
 miners ; and the Court let them have their say. 
 
 " My own family are gone — starved, murdered — and 
 by that man. And then for him to look roughly or to 
 
2o8 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 lay violent hands on her ! Do you wonder I killed 
 him!" 
 
 " No, no !" shouted the crowd. 
 
 '•No, I know you don't; and you wouldn't have had 
 nie slop short of a hundred lives, if he had possessed so 
 many. And now, good friends, I thank you for your at- 
 tention, and I leave my case in your hands." Then, 
 sinking in a seat, he bowed his head. 
 
 The noisy demonstration of the miners had ceased, and 
 a deeper feeling of sympathy had sway, as this large- 
 hearted and unfortunate man, with great emotion, told 
 the simple story of his life. 
 
 Frank Clayton was the first to break the silence when 
 Ben Hoadly had taken his seat. 
 
 " May it please the Court, and you, gentlemen of the 
 jury, this is a novel but necessary proceeding in these 
 troublous times, when the slow processes of the law work 
 injustice to the innocent and ofttimes allow the guilty to 
 escape just punishment. Here we have a court and jury 
 organized by a people accustomed to self-government, for 
 the purpose of an inquest. Then, trying the accused 
 and seemingly guilty party, you are now to pass judgment 
 on the self-confessed and real perpetrator of the deed, — 
 the same court, the same jury, the same witnesses, and 
 with the same audience. And allow me lo say just here 
 that if the people could always manifest on such occasions 
 the moderation and patient spirit of justice we have had 
 here displayed, much of the tedious circumlocution of law 
 could be done away with. I stand here to say, in behalf 
 of the young lady, my client, that you, gentlemen of the 
 jury, must, according to the established rules of evidence 
 and justice, acquit her of any part in the killing of the 
 deceased, Henry Vandergrip, and recognize in the person 
 here before you the real actor in the tragedy. But how 
 far he is criminally responsible for his act, you must de- 
 termine. By his permission, I wish to call to your atten- 
 tion some of the leading features of this case and the 
 causes leading to this dreadful deed. His temperament, 
 mental and physical organization, you have seen, and can 
 judge something of, and also of the effect on such a na- 
 ture of the treatment he and his family received at the 
 hands of the deceased. Let the court and this intelligent 
 jury place themselves in his circumstances, then go deep 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 20g 
 
 down in the recesses of the heart, the sacred closet where 
 you commune with your God, and there put the question 
 in the presence of your Maker : What would I have done 
 to the author of all my distress under like circumstances ? 
 Ben Hoadly appeared on the cliff at the Giant's Elbow 
 just in time to rescue this lady from the hands of a 
 ruffian. It was the same mailed hand which had op- 
 pressed, even unto death, those who were nearest and 
 dearest to him. Can you blame him, that, in a moment 
 of desperation, he hurled the body of the miscreant into 
 the gulf below?" (Cries of "No! No! Served him 
 right! ") And now, gentlemen of the jurj^ I commit into 
 your keeping the future welfare of our unfortunate brother ; 
 and, with your higher natures fully aroused, may God 
 give you courage to 'do unto others as ye would they 
 should do unto you.' " 
 
 Clayton resumed his seat amid thunders of applause. 
 Isabel Priest rose on his approach, and placed both her 
 hands in his own, and diamond drops of gratitude stood 
 in her dark eyes. 
 
 Ben Hoadly still sat bent over, with his face hidden in 
 his hands. 
 
 When the silence had become so protracted as to seem 
 awkward, one of the jurors rose and said : 
 
 " I vote. Not Guilty." 
 
 "And I," "And I," responded the twelve. 
 
 " I chip in a half-ounce of dust to buy the big un a 
 coat and hat and ter kinder care for him till he can git a 
 stake," one old miner rose and said. 
 
 " I raise yer one," exclaimed another. 
 
 "That's the size of my pile," said a third; and one 
 after another of the crowd came forward, and the jury 
 and the judge joined in the general contribution to Ben 
 Hoadly. 
 
 When the contributions had ceased, "the big un " was 
 carried away in the hearts and sympathies of the miners, 
 and, literally in a triumphal procession, he left the court- 
 room to sup with the admiring crowd at the miners' camp. 
 
 As Isabel Priest left the building, the rough crowd 
 opened respectfully, every head uncovered as she passed. 
 And she acknowledged the rough homage with gratitude. 
 
CHAPTER XLTI. 
 
 For the second time this fair girl acted as a guide to 
 Frank Clayton, as she led him through the mountain paths 
 towards her home at " Eagle's Nest." 
 
 Was it the ozone of the air that made him feel he had 
 quaffed a new elixir of life, as he walked by her side ? 
 The veil was withdrawn, and he could gaze now into that 
 pure, beautiful face; pale from the dreadful agitations of 
 the recent scenes, it looked to him like an angel's. He 
 could have walked on forever; but they were soon at their 
 destination ; and, amid tears and etnbraces, the wonderful 
 experience was related. Roland, wan and emaciated, lay 
 upon the lounge, which he seldom quitted now, close 
 clasping his sister's hand, as she recited the strange events ; 
 she gently stroking his hair, and pausing when he seemed 
 too much moved. Clayton's opportune arrival seemed to 
 them all little short of a miracle ; and Mrs. Priest embraced 
 him as if he were another son, saying : 
 
 " How can I ever repay you .■* God only knows what 
 might have happened but for your providential arrival ! " 
 
 " And to think, Isabel, of your going alone to meet such 
 a monstrous charge ! " and Roland shuddered with horror. 
 "Only to think, Mr. Clayton, of her keeping this awful 
 secret from us and bearing it alone ! Isn't she a heroine ! " 
 and he looked with admiration at the brave girl. " By 
 Heaven," he added, flushing, " I would have gotten u]) 
 from this couch and gone mvself had I known it, if it had 
 killed me ! " 
 
 "Yes, my darling," said she, kissing him fondly, "I 
 know that, and that is just the reason why I kept my secret 
 so well. And now," she added, with a look of resolution 
 and authority, " now listen : not one word more, from any 
 one, upon this horrible subject ; we will bury it out of sight 
 forever." And, kissing Roland once more, she arose, say- 
 ing, " Come, Mr. Clayton, and I will show you the garden 
 and my beautiful flowers and vines." 
 
 Need it be said that Frank found them beautiful indeed ! 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 And the dainty cottage, with its simple decorations, its 
 magnificent views, seemed to him nearer like Paradise 
 than anything his eye had ever beheld. 
 
 Day after day found him there, after a climb up the 
 steep mountain side, walking and riding with Isabel, devis- 
 ing new ways for Roland to enjoy the outer air. The 
 poor boy drank eagerly the fresh life and magnetism which 
 Clayton's strong, invigorating presence brought him, and 
 clung to him as a new hold upon life. 
 
CHAPTER XLIII. 
 
 The Summer had passed and tlie A<itumnal foliage was 
 at the height of its glory at " Eagle's Nest," when news 
 came of John Brown's attempt and capture at Harper's 
 Ferry. 
 
 It was the first moment of pain Frank had experienced 
 ill that life of enchantment. He was deeply moved and 
 shocked. He had talked with Isabel of her old friend's 
 \isionary and dangerous schemes, and had imparted to her 
 their divergence of views over his wild enterprise. Now 
 his fears were confirmed— and what would they hear next ? 
 
 The post of that day answered this conjecture by the 
 following letter from John Brow^n himself to Clayton : 
 
 " Harper's Ferry Nov. 20, 1859. 
 " My Dear Friend : 
 
 " You were partly right — I have failed in my at- 
 tempt. But an over-ruling God is working this out in 
 His own way. There will be a colossal conflict be- 
 tween the North and the South, and freedom to the 
 slaves will be the result, though not the object. 
 
 " ' The sunset of life lends a mystical lore, 
 And coming events cast their shadow before.' 
 
 " My sun is setting, and I see the breaking of another 
 and a brighter dawn. 
 
 "Yes, the slaves have not as yet sufficient intelligence 
 to know tliat ' he who would be free, /i/msc/f must strike the 
 blow ! ' They will not respond to the opportunity I gave 
 them. But I have no repinings, no reproaches. I 
 have often felt that, as there was no remission of sins 
 without the shedding of blood, so there could be no com- 
 plete freedom to the Southern slave without the crimson 
 seal — little thinking that it would be my own life's current 
 that should first, and at least, in part, fulfil the awful rev- 
 elation. 
 
213 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 " Yes, my friend, God has not forsaken me in this hour 
 of trial, but leads me safely above the thorns that hedge 
 about the closing hours of life. Were I ruler of tlie earih, 
 I would not change in one jot or tittle my situation, i am 
 decreed to die on the gallows on the second of Decembei , 
 and I pray the day shall be as bright and joyous as m\- 
 spirit on that occasion. You may think of me as going 
 forth to meet my fate with a fortitude that is no stranger 
 to your own heart. 
 
 " May God, the Fatiier of us all, watch over, protect aiul 
 care for you and for the dear friends whom I commie to 
 your charge, tlirougli all the clianges of an earthly life. 
 
 "And now I bid you adieu here below, to extend in the 
 future a Heavenly welcome above. 
 
 " Believe me, more than ever, 
 
 " Your devoted friend, 
 
 "John Brown." 
 
 There was weeping and bitter lamentation at the cot- 
 tage on the mountain side when Frank, with broken voice, 
 read this letter aloud. 
 
 Isabel was too much moved to remain in the room, and, 
 after an hour of solitude, returned calm but with traces 
 of deep suffering on her face. 
 
 Roland was lying on the sofa, his eyes wearily closed, 
 as if he wished never to open them again upon a world 
 which could be so cruel. Isabel looked at his wan face 
 anxiously for a moment, then went up to him with an in- 
 expressible brightness in her face. 
 
 " Come, my darling ; we must go outside, where the 
 air is so fresh and sweet. We are all going to take our 
 tea out there under the great oak. No, JMamma dear, 
 don't go; Jenny knows about it and is laying the table 
 there now." She busied herself gathering the shawls and 
 cushions as she spoke. 
 
 " Now, Mr. Clayton, your arm, please, for Rolla ! " 
 
 Oh, what brightness she infused ! How her clear vi- 
 brating voice dispelled the gloom ! How her strong pres- 
 ence filled them all with gladness! And how beautiful 
 she was as she poured the tea under the glancing shadows 
 of the oak leaves ! 
 
 Clayton looked at her spellbound. How dear she was 
 growing to him ! And now this common grief seemed to 
 
214 THE STORMY PETREL, 
 
 bring them nearer than ever before. They sat long and 
 gazed at the marvelous sunset and its wonderful after- 
 glories ; the landscape below hazy and indefinite, and the 
 sky a mass of molten splendor. 
 
 Isabel had looked in silence for a few moments, then 
 said as if to herself, " It hath not entered into the heart 
 of man to conceive of the things which God hath prepared 
 for those who love him." Then, looking at them all, 
 "Think of the glories that await our dear, kind friend ! " 
 
 " How I envy you your beautiful faith ! " Clayton said, 
 wistfully. 
 
 She turned her eyes full upon him, with an expression 
 of surprise : " Envy me ? Why, do you not believe a glo- 
 rious future awaits him ? " 
 
 He felt the reproof of those clear eyes, and said, quite 
 humbly, " I'm sure, I hope you are right and I am wrong. 
 God knows I hope it is as 3'ou suppose ; but for myself I 
 can only say, I do not know. It is all a mystery; life 
 and death are mysteries to me, and one can only hope 
 for that which he can, at least, in part believe." 
 
 No one spoke. Isabel very gravely began to make 
 preparations for their return to the house, as she thought 
 deep, unutterable things in pity for a doubting heart. 
 
 "Come, Rolla, dear," she said gently. "It grows a 
 little cool." 
 
 The light had faded out of the sky, and a cool shadow- 
 had crept into two hearts as Clayton helped the invalid 
 indoors, touching the cold hands of Isabel and indefinably 
 chilled by her manner and the atmosphere about her. 
 
CHAPTER XLIV. 
 
 All through the ensuing week Isabel fought bravel}- 
 with the gloom which oppressed every heart in that circle. 
 For the sake of Rolla, there must be nothing but sun- 
 shine. When the dreaded second of December came, 
 not one word did anyone utter upon the subject upper- 
 most in each heart. 
 
 The following letter was received by Clayton a few 
 weeks later. It was from Claude Duvall, 
 
 "Harper's Ferrv, Dec. 2, 1859, Midnight. 
 " My dear Friend : 
 
 " How shall I tell you what I have come to see this 
 day ! I will try, for there can be no sleep this night. 
 
 "When I heard there was no hope of pardon for our 
 poor old friend, you may think I lost no time to come 
 from St. Louis, all the time thinking, in the cars, if there 
 was perhaps some way I can help him to escape. But, 
 my God ! when I get here this morning and see all the 
 crowds on the streets — the whole town like one of our 
 fetes at home — and soldiers, soldiers everywhere — then I 
 know how such thoughts are vain ; and I only think to 
 see him, to speak with him once more. But when I ask 
 at the jail, that hope, too, seems vain. Still, I wait ; and 
 as a guard goes on, I slip a gold piece in his hand, and 
 pass in, and behold our old friend. Oh, if you could see 
 the light in his eyes when he came to see me ! 
 
 "' You here? Is Clayton with you?' \nd he looked 
 so eagerly behind me. I only shake my head for answer. 
 I could not speak ; I was weeping, my friend. 
 
 " Then he says : ' Tell him he knew better than I; but 
 tell him I have no regrets — I see a glorious ' 
 
 " Then another guard roughly pushed me outside tlie 
 door, and 1 heard no more. 
 
 " I go out in the street, and wait to see what may come. 
 Such crowds ! People, people ; in windows, on tops of 
 houses; and soldiers here and everywhere ! 
 
2l6 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 " At last, there is a roll of drums, and I see an escort of 
 cavalry, like for a king to be crowned, with plumes all 
 dancing and shining in the sunlight. On they come, 
 nearer, nearer ; and then, oh, Mon Dicu I — there, in a car, 
 drawn by two white horses — there he is — sitting on his 
 coffin — yes, my friend, my eyes have seen that cruel sight 
 — sitti?ig on his coffin! But with such a majesty, like it 
 was a throne ! his white hair shining like a crown in the 
 sunlight. 
 
 " I keep close as I may by the car, and try to make him 
 see me, but cannot tell if he does. The drums always 
 beat, so he cannot hear. At last, when the car stops at 
 that dreadful spot, I feel ill, and cannot look; 1 think of 
 Savonarola, of Bruno, of Christ, of all who have come to 
 die for their glorious idea ! And I hear always still those 
 drums, those dreadful drums ; so I know that voice will 
 not be heard more. 
 
 " At last — oh, Mo)! Dieu .' how long it seems ! when the 
 drums no more beat ; in all that thousands there is not 
 one sound ! Then I know the awful moment is arrive ; 
 that a great soul is going out to meet its God ! and, I can 
 only — pray. 
 
 " What would I do now, if like you, my friend, I cannot 
 pray ? 
 
 " I know not then what I do for hours. I go — it matters 
 not where. Crowds everywhere, so gay ; buying fruit, 
 and eating something in great baskets. I can only think 
 of that line by your English poet : 
 
 " ' Butchered to make a Roman holiday ! ' 
 
 " And all day and all this night that is in my mind, and 
 I am saying : 
 
 " ' Butchered to make a Roman holiday ! ' 
 
 " I know well your eyes will weep on this page when you 
 read it, as do mine who write it. 
 
 " For this once I must subscribe me, not Claude, but, in 
 very truth, as in deep dejection, 
 
 " Claudius. " 
 
 Many times did Frank peruse this sad letter before he 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 2l7 
 
 detennined to show it to Isabel, who was terribly moved 
 by the details of the scene ; and together they decided 
 not to read it, at least for the present, to her mother nor 
 to Roland, who was now making such visible progress 
 toward health they feared to put one sorrowful thought in 
 his ardent and sympathetic heart. 
 
CHAPTER XLV. 
 
 More and more closely were the threads of their 
 lives becoming entwined by these mutual confidences. 
 Isabel believed she was grateful for his kindness to her- 
 self, and, still more, for his marvellous effect upon Rolla ; 
 for the boy's recovery had certainly dated from the mo- 
 ment of Frank's arrival. So she treated him with a frank 
 cordiality, never for a moment concealing the great pleas- 
 ure it was to have him among them. 
 
 Vanity was a stranger to her heart ; hence she thought 
 it quite natural that his stay was prolonged by "invest- 
 ments which made his presence necessary on the Pacific 
 Coast." And so the weeks and months sped on, binding 
 secretly two hearts more and more closely. 
 
 With infinite delicacy, Frank had refrained from any 
 allusion to their experience on the prairie and the night 
 by the camp-fire. 
 
 " Does he know ? " she would sometimes ask her- 
 self ; and a crimson flush would sweep over her at the 
 thought. 
 
 They were walking alone one day, whew he said, rather 
 irrelevantly : 
 
 " Do you know, I think of all Shakespeare's heroines, 
 Rosalind has for me the greatest charm." 
 
 Swift as lightning, her thought divined his own; and 
 she sent back the color which was mounting to her cheek, 
 saying coldly : 
 
 " 1 cannot agree with you ; I think nothing but 
 a matter of life and death could excuse a woman for as- 
 suming masculine dress." 
 
 Then, quickly changing the subject, each knew that 
 the other had understood; and Frank felt that he had 
 been ordered by this determined young goddess not to 
 venture again on that dangerous ground. 
 
 The doctor ordered atrip, a change for Roland; so 
 preparations were made to visit the Yosemite. Mr. 
 Bayard Taylor, whom Clayton had recently met, promised 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 219 
 
 to join their patty ; and a few days later found them in 
 that region of marvellous beauty and sublimity. 
 
 When that first morning dawned in the " Yosemite 
 Valley," the mist and spray of the many waterfalls ris- 
 ing like incense to greet the sunlight, it seemed the 
 opening of a festal day to our travellers. The mountain 
 breeze came in the tent doors ladened with fragrance and 
 the melody of forest birds, accompanied by a deep mon- 
 otone as of the rushing of mighty waters. 
 
 While breakfast was preparing, an excursion was made 
 to the nearest and most beautiful waterfall, the Bridal 
 A^'eil. It hung in vapory folds from the rocks above in 
 an arch of exquisite beauty ; the filmy lace now and then 
 lifted or turned back by the wind or some unknown 
 power, disclosing a broad ledge of rocks ; and back of it, 
 a cavern of unknown depth. To a mountain climber and 
 an adventurous spirit, the temptation was irresistible to 
 step behind the veil that was raised. Just as the party 
 was leaving the spot, Isabel Piiest, yielding to a sud- 
 den impulse, darted forward, and in an instant, was lost 
 to view behind the veil. 
 
 Bayard Taylor and Clayton watched for a rift in the 
 waters to follow. It came in a few minutes, which seemed 
 an age, and Clayton sprang into the opening to join the 
 young girl. The capricious waters seemed disposed to 
 punish the daring mortals who invaded their domain. 
 For several long minutes, the cascade was an unbroken 
 sheet; then it was again put aside a shower of diamonds 
 and pearls falling upon the water nymph. As she emerged 
 with her companion from their crystal prison, there was 
 a brighter radiance in her face. Perhaps she had won- 
 dered who would follow her if she disappeared in that 
 realm of mystery, and now, she was glad that the question 
 was answered. 
 
 Roland, who had come to meet the party, scolded his 
 sister for her temerity, but Isabel had often visited 
 Niagara, which was near their early home, and had gone 
 with others behind the sheet of water — one of the feats 
 daily performed there, which is almost sublime from its 
 foolhardiness. Instead of the green wall of liquid emer- 
 ald of Niagara, this Bridal Veil was like foam and mist 
 when it reached the rocks below and it seemed an easy 
 matter to step behind it. 
 
2 20 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 " Such an enchanLed place to play ' hide and go seek,' " 
 said Isabel with a bright laugh. 
 
 But she was silent and penitent too, perhaps, for she 
 took her brother's arm and walked back to the encamp- 
 ment, where breakfast was waiting for the party. 
 
 Appetite was not wanting after such a morning excur- 
 sion. Fresh brook trout, coffee, mountain quail and 
 Yosemite grapes were part of the bill of fare, with the 
 "feast of reason and flow of soul " that inspired the table 
 talk of Bayard Taylor and his companions. 
 
 At the foot of the falls, were discovered several round 
 smooth stones like billiard balls. Some thought they 
 were Indian implements for a game, or that they belonged 
 to the " Stone Age." On ascending the top of the cliff, 
 they found the roaring waters of the river took a step, as 
 it were, on the granite table before making the dizzy leap; 
 and at this spot, numerous perfect holes were formed, re- 
 sembling insize and shape the interior of a druggist's 
 mortar. So much symmetry indicated design and skill 
 in the construction. 
 
 After further search, one of these holes was discovered 
 without water, and in it a perfectly round ball similar to 
 those below. 
 
 '^Eureka!'' exclaimed Mr. Taylor, holding it aloft, and 
 then explained : 
 
 "A small pocket or irregularity catches a pebble, the 
 surging waters keep it revolving, wearing the pocket 
 larger and the pebble smaller, but both rounder, for 
 inonths and years, till, by some freak of the current, 
 a sudden lurch, and out of the pocket it is thrown, carried 
 over the falls, and deposited where the traveller and 
 scientist may speculate upon its origin." 
 
 Above the falls, they came to what they called the 
 "Spouting Cave," — a deep cleft in the rocks in which 
 was a rapid current of water that, without any apparent 
 cause, would occasionally stop in its onward course, and 
 roll back for a time, when a hugh volume of water and 
 spray would rise in the air, followed by a puff of wind like 
 the breath of some great monster with cavernous lungs, 
 then, the pent up waters overcame all resistance, and, 
 with a noise of thunder and gurgling sound, the con- 
 duit was filled and the stream flowed on its downward 
 course. 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 221 
 
 All stood gazing in wonder at this phenomenon of 
 nature. 
 
 " It may be, " said Mr. Taylor, "that this fissure con- 
 nects with the grotto under the falls, and has something 
 to do with the lifting of the veil, for which I can see no 
 sufficient explanation down there in the currents of air 
 getting behind it, as we were speculating this morning, 
 Mr. Clayton." 
 
 All the secluded haunts of nature in this wonderful 
 valley were explored by the travellers, and the purity of 
 the atmosphere seemed like a draught of inspiration to 
 the health and spirits of the party. Upon no one was its 
 effect more apparent than Roland Priest. His vigorous 
 youth was asserting itself with a rapidity which filled Isa- 
 bel and Frank with happiness and astonishment. He 
 found no end of amusement in drawing out the guide 
 upon scientific and other subjects. 
 
 "Look!" exclaimed Clayton, pointing to the crystal 
 stream. " Do you observe the fairies have paved the 
 bed of the river with gold ? " And, as a large brook 
 trout swam leisurely by, he said, " See, they have 
 decked even the fish with the same precious and shining 
 metal ! " 
 
 " They call that ' fool's gold, ' " said Mr. Taylor. 
 
 Roland saw his opportunity ; so, turning to the guide, 
 he said : 
 
 " What do you think of it. Bob ? " 
 
 "Wall, stranger, " said Bob : "you see, when the gold 
 fever struck the States, nigh every kind o' stories was told 
 of the big strikes and finds in the mines ; so a party of 
 prospectors started out from 'Frisco with all these big 
 notions, each feller tryin ter git ahead and ketch the golden 
 worm. One day one of them came to a creek not fur from 
 Mariposa, where this truck was a layin thick on the bot- 
 tom, jis like tis here, only with ther sun shining on it 
 the stuff looked twice as bright and big as 'twas in natur. 
 Then, his eyes commenced to grow bigger an bigger tryin' 
 ter take all in, an he got kinder excited, and throwed off, 
 his close an jumped inter the creek with a shovel; an when 
 t'others kum up, there he was a ravin idiot, tryin ter scoop 
 it up an throw it out on the bank an tellin all on em to 
 Stan back, this was his claim as he had discivered it. 
 Since then, old ones calls it 'fool's gold,'" 
 
22 2 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 " Where does it come from ? " asked Mr, Taylor. 
 
 "Wall, sir, there's several ways 'countin' for it, an' I'll 
 give yer the one what suits my idees best, an' that is its 
 miky ( mica ) from the rocks which -gets heated in moun- 
 tain fires in the dry season, an' when the rainy season 
 comes on, the rocks kinder slack like lime, and the miky 
 turns gold color an' floats away in the creeks to fool peo- 
 ple and turn their heads." 
 
 "That is good reasoning," said Mr. Taylor, a sly 
 twinkle in his eye, as it caught Roland's. 
 
 What a happy, joyous time it was ! And with what de- 
 light was it all recounted to the dear mother awaiting 
 them at " Eagle's Nest " ! And how they enjoyed her hap- 
 piness in her boy's returning health and bouyancy ! And 
 how enchanting it was to hear that there was not enough 
 food in all Coultersville to satisfy the demands of his ap- 
 petite ! 
 
CHAPTER XLVI. 
 
 It was now the second Summer of Clayton's sojourn 
 near his friends. Letters from the East brought good 
 news from the Colony, Petrel was happy with the good 
 Sisters. So it needed only to make peace with his con- 
 sceince by making business which should detain him, 
 which he did by investing quite largely. Then, too, he 
 found the quiet of the mountain side favorable for literary 
 pursuits, to which he was addicted. So his conscience 
 was appeased. 
 
 Isabel was a superb horsewoman, and as she rode Tem- 
 pest, with Frank at her side upon Falcon, who had now 
 been returned safe and sound from Oregon, there was 
 abundant time for confidences ; and there were few sub- 
 jects they had not discussed in this way al fresco. 
 
 "Your riding is characteristic," he said to her one 
 day. 
 
 " How is that ? " 
 
 " Well, you are so supple, and yet so immovable ; your 
 touch is so tender, yet so firm." 
 
 "There, that'll do," said she, waving her whip with an 
 air of authority. " Now, sir, we'll talk about yourself^ if 
 you please. Tell me some more about Uncle Ned and 
 your pony and Aunt Eliza and Uncle Stanley and Petrel. 
 Why, do you know, those people are all as real to me as if 
 I had seen them. I can see your pretty cousin, too, with 
 her deep blue eyes." 
 
 " They are not blue, if you please." 
 
 "Oh, yes ; gre}', I mean," and she laughed. " Well, why 
 didn't you marry her yourself, sir, and save her from that 
 dreadful Mr. Fletcher? Of course vou fell in love with 
 her." 
 
 " Never," said Frank, emphatically, " Kate and I 
 were like brother and sister." 
 
 " Why, I thought boys always fell in love with their 
 cousins," said she, laughing. " I had always supposed 
 that was part of the discipline of life." 
 
224 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 " Well, it was not a part of the discipline of mine," an- 
 swered Frank, " We were too good friends to be 
 lovers. — You laugh," said he ; " but I tell you there is phi- 
 losophy in that." 
 
 " So you think lovers must not be good friends?" 
 
 " Well, no ; not quite that ; but love in the earlier 
 stages is fed by mystery ; and with a person you have 
 known from the cradle there is no place to begin. Do 
 you see ? " 
 
 " I see that you have studied the subject very care- 
 fully," and Isabel laughed again. " I know nothing about 
 such things, so I presume you are right." 
 
 " But I will be frank with you,'' said he, looking very 
 steadily at her as he spoke ; " I have had my little ro- 
 mance, which if you would care to hear I should like to 
 tell you some time." 
 
 He spoke very seriously now and Isabel had a dis- 
 turbed consciousness that the blood was dyeing her cheek 
 to the temples for a moment, and then returning and 
 leaving it very pale. But she managed to say, very quietly, 
 that she should be pleased by the confidence ; and, a 
 few weeks later, one quiet evening, he told her the follow- 
 ing story : 
 
 " After leaving college, I went to Louisville and studied 
 law in the office of Mr. Wyckliffe, who stands at the head of 
 his profession and is one of the noblest and best of men. 
 He lived in a fine old mansion just out of the city, and I 
 wa-s occasionally invited there to dine. His only daugh- 
 ter presided at the table, and the guests were usually 
 much older men than myself. Mr. Wyckliffe was a student 
 of German philosophy, ancient history, and delighted in 
 the society of a few chosen friends of similar tastes. One 
 was Mr. Ernest Bausen from Heidelberg, an Oreintal 
 scholar, who afterwards introduced Dr. Simonides, a 
 Greek physician. 
 
 " The conversation of these men was both interesting 
 and improving to a young fellow of my age, and gave a 
 new turn to my reading and studies. It was an added 
 charm to these discussions that Alice Wyckliffe also de- 
 lighted in the stories of Greek life and art told by the 
 doctor, 
 
 " One day, he dwelt with poetic effect upon the cremation 
 of the dead, and preserving the sacred ashes in urns of 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 2^5 
 
 beautiful and artistic workmanship, whicli he compared 
 to the disadvantage of the modern idea of Christain 
 burial. 
 
 " ' The body,' he said, " which we have cared for through 
 life and is endeared to us by such ties, becomes food for 
 worms and is a source of disease and death to those left 
 behind.' 
 
 " Once, Doctor Simonides invited us to his house and 
 displayed his collection of urns, or treasures as he called 
 them. One in particular, attracted Alice's attention as 
 being a rare work of art, and she inquired if it had a his- 
 tory. 
 
 " ' Yes,' said the doctor, embracing it reverently, * this 
 contains the ashes of my darling, my first and only love. 
 She died on the day set for our marriage. In accordance 
 with our custom, I have preserved her memory thus, and 
 while I do not believe that my beloved Ursula dwells in 
 this urn, yet it is of all things on earth to me, the most 
 sacred. I have seen but one Ursula and this rare pat- 
 tern of Greek vase serves as a telescope through which I 
 behold anew each day, in the world of spirits, my angel 
 bride.' 
 
 "Alice was profoundly impressed by this, and we talked 
 much together of the habits of the ancients, of poetry, of 
 philosophy — of which she was quite a student. We read 
 German together — and — well, naturally enough, we drifted 
 from philosophy into sentiment and from sentiment into 
 love — as we thought. 
 
 "One day, while riding, Alice's horse took fright and 
 threw her. She was carried home insensible ; and 
 when I saw her pale face that evening, the pang it 
 gave me was deeper than that felt by any brother ; 
 and now, Isabel, my story is nearly ended. The in- 
 jury to her spine proved fatal, and this blooming 
 young creature knew that her days were numbered. 
 
 " Her father and I watched over her for two months. 
 Day by day, little by little, the light burned lower in the 
 socket until the oil of life was consumed. Soon, the lids 
 closed, and the light of heaven went out from those soft 
 blue eyes; the pulsations of the heart grew fainter and 
 fainter. ' She sleeps,' said her father. ' Yes,' said the 
 doctor, taking the hand of his patient, ' but when she 
 awakens, it will be in heaven. Like the swinging pendu- 
 
2 25 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 lum of a clock when the spring is broken, each vibration 
 is shorter and you can hardly perceive when it ceases to 
 keep time, or passes into eternity.' Mr. Wyckliffe was 
 overcome with grief when the last sad moment came ; and 
 her dear body, attired for death, was left alone with the 
 faithful servants and attendants. 
 
 " I was permitted to watch by the mortal remains of Alice 
 that night. Robed in white, she lay like a pale, broken lily. 
 So pure, so beautiful ; her face almost radiant with a 
 sweet smile as though beholding a heavenly vision. 
 
 " 'There is no indication of life,' said the doctor on the 
 next morning, 'except an external appearance, and that 
 sometimes continues for several days.' 
 
 " Still, I could not feel that she was dead, and after my 
 night's vigil, I gave place to her father with the promise 
 that he would not leave her alone. 
 
 " Toward evening, I resumed my watch and opened the 
 blinds of the window overlooking the garden. The 
 golden rays of the setting sun illumined the room, cast- 
 ing a rosy tint upon the face of Alice. 
 
 "I knelt by her side, and untying the white satin ribbon 
 that bound the waxen hands together, — they seemed like 
 snowflakes as they fell apart, — ^I reverently took them in 
 my own, saying ' Dear, dear Alice, speak to me ! Tell 
 me what you see behind that mysterious veil ! ' 
 
 " Gradually there came a rose-tint into her cheek, a trem- 
 bling of the long lashes, and the blue eyes slowly opened. 
 I was not astonished, but kissed her again and again, say- 
 ing, ' Be quiet, my love. You have been sleeping nicely. 
 Close your eyes again. You must have some nourishment.' 
 
 " 'Dear Frank,' she whispered, as I put some wine to her 
 lips, and then called her nurse from the adjoining room. 
 Soon her father was bending over his child. The doctor 
 came, and pronounced it one of the rare cases of abnormal 
 suspension of vitality, or trance. 
 
 "Dr. Simonides had been absent from the city. He 
 was now called in, and found the patient again in what 
 seemed a natural sleep. He told Dr. Wyckliffe that the 
 lamp of life was flickering in its socket, and would soon 
 be extinguished forever ; and so it proved. 
 
 " Breathless with hope, we watched for her awakening" 
 again. Her tyes opened, and such a smile illumined her 
 face as she said : 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 227 
 
 "'Papa, — Frank, I have seen wonderful things. I can- 
 not tell you, for you would not understand. But you must 
 rejoice when I am gone.' 
 
 " Presently the face became more radiant, the voice sank 
 to a whisper ; and in perfect peace the spirit took its ever- 
 lasting flight. There was no mistake this time. Death 
 had surely claimed his victim and affixed his seal on the 
 rigid and icy form. 
 
 " After this wonderful experience Mr. Wyckliffe would 
 not consent to having his daughter put under the sod. 
 The urn containing the ashes of Ursula had interested 
 Alice and a similar vase, which she herself had decorated, 
 was now ready to receive her earthly and sublimated 
 remains. 
 
 " Again the body was robed in white. It was placed in 
 a casket and surrounded by flowers, the natural emblems 
 of frail mortality. After the funeral services at the house, 
 the casket was followed by the loved ones to a building- 
 erected by Dr. Simonides at his home. Here the body 
 of Alice was removed from its rosewood casket and placed 
 in a similar one made of clay. The doctor then placed 
 around the body, a white powdered incense, which, he said, 
 had the double effect of causing it to consume like tinder 
 and at the same time, emitting an agreeable resinous 
 odor. 
 
 " 'We will now,' said he solemnly, ' give back to mother 
 earth the mortal portion of her child.' 
 
 "Placing the casket upon a sliding frame, it entered the 
 glowing furnace, and the door was closed. 
 
 " ' It is thus,' said the doctor, ' that pure gold is separated 
 from the dross.' 
 
 " Soon, there was perceived a pleasing odor from the 
 incense pervading the room, and in a short time, by a 
 simple mechanism, the crucible was removed to the cool- 
 ing chamber, Demetrius the faithful Greek servant, having 
 charge of all the details. 
 
 " Mr. Wyckliffe and I followed the doctor to his labora- 
 tory where, upon a marble slab, rested the crucible. The 
 lid was lifted by the doctor and Demetrius, revealing to 
 the sight a mound of white ashes. 
 
 " ' The Greeks observed a religious ceremony in deposit- 
 ing the ashes in the urn,' said the doctor, ' and the wing 
 of a white dove was used, together with a unique silver 
 
228 , THE STORMY PETREL, 
 
 ladle like these, fashioned after two human hands joined 
 together." 
 
 " The urn brought by Mr. Wyckliff was placed in the cen- 
 tre of the crucible and the ashes, carefully and reverently 
 collected by the dove's wing and the silver ladle, were 
 j^laced in the beautiful receptacle. Then,, hermetically 
 sealing the inner metal lining of the urn, it was placed upon 
 a small pedestal, and thus presented by the doctor to Mr. 
 Wyckliffe and the bereaved friends, saying: 
 
 " ' Here are the sacred ashes of your child, which once 
 enclosed her beautiful spirit. Cherish them for her sake.' 
 
 " And we turned away feeling that we left her at the gate 
 of Paradise, and not in a dreary cemetery." 
 
 As Isabel listened to this narrative the nature of the 
 feeling she entertained for Frank became clearly revealed 
 to herself. She could no longer delude herself by calling 
 it gratitude or friendship. She loved him, and she could 
 not help a pang of something like jealousy at even the 
 sublimated image of this young girl, who might now have 
 been his wife with a claim upon his supreme devotion. 
 
 She spent that night in deep and solemn communings 
 with her own heart. She did not know that he loved her ; 
 perhaps his tender care was simply the ordinary expression 
 of a sympathetic nature. But if he did — what then.'' Was 
 there not an impassable gulf between them ? Her religion, 
 which was interwoven with her life, was to him a delusion 
 and a superstition. No happiness would be possible in a 
 marriage built over this chasm — her world not his world ; 
 their souls would be perpetually divided, and such a union 
 a mockery. 
 
 Such were the conclusions at which she arrived after a 
 sleepless night ; but she had fought her fight and had van- 
 quished, and came down to breakfast very pale, though in 
 other respects much as usual. 
 
 She was not sorry to find a note from Frank saying that 
 unexpected and urgent business would take him to Sacra- 
 mento for a few weeks. 
 
 Instead of galloping over the hills with Falcon and his 
 master at her side, she now rode alone, excepting such 
 days as Roland could accompany her. How the glory 
 had faded out of the sunsets, the landscape, and the joy 
 out of everything, since she had sternly faced the fact that 
 this had only been an episode, and that she must live on 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 229 
 
 her life alone, without that one presence which gave it its 
 chief charm ! But she was strong and brave, and never 
 wavered in her resolve. " And yet I am glad to have 
 known him. I am richer for having loved him," she said 
 again and again to herself in solitude. And, recalling his 
 unflinching adherence to what he thought right and just 
 as applied to every-day life and duty, then his perfect con- 
 sistency as applying the same rule to all he held sacred 
 in religion, in the face of all opposition or influence, she 
 wondered if God would or could leave such an earnest soul 
 long in the dark and doubt. Can it be possible in the 
 providence of a kind and loving Father, for such a 
 spirit to be eternally lost ? 
 
CHAPTER XLVII. 
 
 It was a bright, crisp morning in the early winter, when 
 Isabel heard once more the welcome sound of Falcon's 
 hoofs upon the steep mountain road. What glad music 
 there was in the resonant voice she heard extending words 
 of gay greeting to Roland and her mother ! She trembled 
 to think the joy that presence brought to her heart, 
 
 " Are you well ? he said, looking at her anxiously, his 
 quick glance at once detecting a little less color, something 
 gone from her contagious buoyancy. 
 
 But Isabel was an adept in diverting attention from her- 
 self, and had soon drawn him to tell of the things and 
 people he had seen. Then he must ride with Roll a, as 
 she had pressing duties at home ;, and after the ride and 
 early dinner, she had an important letter to write ; and so 
 the delightful hour when he could be with her alone seemed 
 to be eluding him. 
 
 Frank had been thinking for many days of this interview, 
 for he had determined at last to ask that question upon 
 which hung his hope of happiness in life. If she did not 
 love him — he dared not think how it would empty life of 
 hope and aim ! And just because the question involved 
 so much, he had waited all these months, not daring to 
 ask it; but now, it could no longer be delayed. His pres- 
 ence was required at home, and he must know his fate, 
 and perhaps — oh, what joy! Perhaps she would go with 
 him ! And with pride and rapture he thought of introduc- 
 ing to Kate this glorious woman as his wife ! 
 
 " Am I never to see you alone .'' " he asked in a low 
 tone, as they came out from the tea-table. 
 
 The color rose swiftly to her face as she hesitated a 
 moment, then said : 
 
 " Shall we walk to the great oak and see the sunset ? " 
 
 He gave her a grateful pressure of the hand in reply, 
 Mer heart was beating very rebelliously as he wrapped 
 the soft folds of the cloak tenderly about her; and they 
 walked on in silence, thinkinir unutterable things. 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 23 1 
 
 " I believe I like this crisp air even better than those 
 soft, languorous summer evenings." Isabel said this with 
 a feeling that somet/ii/ig must be said. 
 
 " Isabel," said he, " I am going to make a confession. 
 I am a pretender, a dissembler, and, more than that, I 
 am a coward. I have framed all sorts of pretexts for 
 staying here — pretended there was business requiring it. 
 There was none, except such as I made to suit my pur- 
 pose. It was all an insincere sham. It is because I love 
 you, Isabel — because I could not tear myself from the 
 enchantment of your presence — that I almost forgot the 
 calls of duty. You were in the sunsets, in the landscape ; 
 it wzs your presence that made these mountain wilds a 
 Paradise. And I dared not tell you, Isabel, because I 
 feared I should then lose you utterly." 
 
 Her hand was trembling in the strong grasp of his now. 
 
 " I dared not tell you," he went on, " because I dared 
 not hope. You seemed sometimes so remote and so un- 
 attainable ; and sleepless nights have I spent in trying to 
 nerve myself for what might come. But now, oh my dar- 
 ling one ! you do not turn from me ; now I begin to hope 
 that your heart beats responsive to my own ! " 
 
 Isabel was pale and trembling and unresistingly allowed 
 the strong arms to enfold her. Then, disengaging her- 
 self, she looked with a pathetic earnestness into his eyes 
 and said: 
 
 "Yes, Frank, I love you." 
 
 Again she was held close to his heart, while he, in pas- 
 sionate joy, murmured, ''Thank God!" and again and 
 again kissed her. 
 
 She closed her eyes and rested like a tired child, while 
 Frank's words rushed on in a torrent. 
 
 "And now, there need be no cruel separation. I must 
 go away, but you will go with me." 
 
 The eyelids opened reluctantly, and she said, " No — 
 that cannot be. God knows I long for it, but P>ank, 
 it cannot be." 
 
 " Why, Isabel," said he, " there will be no separation 
 from your mother and Rolla ; they shall go with us." 
 
 "No; you do not understand me," she said painfully, 
 and freeing herself entirely from his embrace. " Listen, 
 I will try to tell you what I mean — but oh, it costs me so 
 much ! " 
 
232 
 
 THE STORMY PETREL 
 
 "My dear one, you tremble. I have agitated you. 
 Here, let me put this cloak about you. There, — now, 
 don't try to speak yet. We have plenty of time to talk 
 over everything now ; and all shall be just as you wish, 
 dear. Perhaps it may be better to wait if you prefer it ; 
 I can arrange to come back for you in a few weeks." 
 
 " Oh, you do not understand yet, and I must give you 
 such pain. I cannot — marry you, Frank. It would not 
 be right." 
 
 " My God, what do you mean ? Not right ? " 
 
 " No, Frank ; not right, and not wise ; we should not 
 be happy." 
 
 " What in God's name do you mean ? " said he. 
 
 " We should not be happy," she repeated, now more 
 firmly. " We hold opposite views upon a vital subject. 
 What is to me the most sacred of all beliefs is to you 
 nothing, or less than nothing; and we should lead sun- 
 dered lives, however we might strive to cover it up." 
 
 P'rank had been looking at her in speechless amaze- 
 ment, utterly incredulous of the power of such an obstacle 
 to separate them. He took both her hands in his and 
 looked steadfastly into her troubled eyes. 
 
 " I would not for all this world disturb your faith. I 
 could not love you nearly so well if you hadn't it. I shall 
 always treat it as sacred, for it is yours ; and if God or a 
 generous heaven should ever grant us children, I should 
 wish them to receive it as a precious inheritance and to 
 cling to it ; for I tell you, Isabel, it is miserable to be com- 
 pelled to doubt and grope in the darkness after the truth." 
 
 He had never seemed to her so deserving of all the 
 best that anyone could bestow as at that moment; and 
 the miserable girl burst into a flood of tears, which she 
 was utterly unable to control. 
 
 Again Frank folded her closely in his arms and sooth- 
 ingly stroked her hair. 
 
 "Now, dearest," he said, "we will not talk any more; 
 you are tired. It is enough to be together in silence. 
 Now_my heart is laid bare to you, and I have the joy of 
 knowing that you love me — a little. So what is there to 
 arrange ? There is time enough to harmonize all these 
 smaller points. And if the kind and loving Father is as 
 you believe, then He knows how much I love His laws 
 and how earnestly I am striving to seek them out." 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 233 
 
 " You are quite right," she said ; " we had better say 
 no more to-night. To-morrow I shall be better able to 
 tell you what I mean and to make you understand why I 
 feel this sacrifice imposed upon me." 
 
 " Dearest," said Frank, as they approached the now 
 lighted house, " may I tell your mother and Rolla.-'" 
 
 " No, — no, — no ! " said she ; " not for the world. Leave 
 that to me." 
 
 Those two people, however, had their own conjectures 
 about this prolonged view of the sunset, and were not a 
 little mystified in observing its effect upon Frank and Is- 
 abel, who scarcely spoke after returning. Mrs. Priest 
 watched him very closely, for that gentle lady had her 
 own unspoken hopes, and she said to herself : "Assuredly 
 no unhappy man ever looked like that. Why, his face 
 seemed transfigured ! And how he watched her ! But 
 something has happened. What is it?" And she lingered 
 about her daughter's room when she retired, in hope of a 
 confidence, which, however, was not bestowed. 
 
CHAPTER XLVIII. 
 
 Isabel made a pretext of retiring while her mother was 
 there ; but soon as she was alone and the house quiet for 
 the night, she arose, put on a warm dressing-gown and 
 sat down to her desk, and wrote as follows : 
 
 My dear Frank : 
 
 " In the solitude of this hour and place, I will try 
 to say what I could not this evening ; and if it pains 
 you to read, know that my owm heart is torn in writ- 
 ing it. 
 
 " Need I tell you again that I love you ! Yes, I love 
 you, and can think of no greater joy than to spend my 
 life under the protecting care of your tender and generous 
 heart ; and yet, I cannot accept this happiness, which 
 would, as I told you to-day, be built over a chasm — and 
 an ever-widening chasm. At first we might not be so 
 conscious of it, but we should soon realize that we lived 
 apart; that we were not in sympathy upon the most vital 
 of all subjects ; and this would inevitably react upon our 
 feelings. 
 
 "Terrible as it is to part now, it is better than drifting 
 gradually asunder after marriage — seeing love fade into 
 indifference, and possibly the chain which bound us be- 
 coming a wearisome burden. 
 
 " Oh, why need it be so ? Why can you not, in childlike 
 simplicity, accept this beautiful and sustaining faith ? 
 But I know your convictions are as deeply rooted as my 
 own. So I see no hope, and will try to take up my life, 
 shorn of its beauty and its joy, and for the sake of others, 
 live it cheerfully as I can. But, I am now, and shall al- 
 ways remain, 
 
 " Yours, and only yours, 
 
 " Isabel.'* 
 
 It was not until near niorning that the tired eyes 
 closed in sleep. Her moihei-, finding her still sleeping 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 235 
 
 when breakfast was ready, kept the house quiet, wonder- 
 ing, as she softly moved about, what it all meant. 
 
 The sound of Falcon's hoofs speeding up the road to 
 the cottage dissipated the dreams of the sleeping girl, and 
 she arose and called her mother. 
 
 " Mamma, dear," she said, " I did not sleep very well, 
 and I have a headache. Will you please give this note to 
 Mr. Clayton and tell him I will see him later in the day." 
 
 With eager, trembling hand, Frank seized the note, and 
 went out into the fresh air and sunshine to read his fate. 
 
 During the long hours of the day he could not have 
 told whether he was most happy or miserable. Assur- 
 edly he could not be very WTetched with those words she 
 had uttered last night still ringing in his ears, and 
 repeated again in her note. And he felt confident of 
 being able to persuade her of the folly of her decision. 
 Still, as he read again the words so resolutely penned, he 
 was anxious. 
 
 She heard his horse coming up the path on his return 
 at the hour appointed, and, throwing a wrap about her, 
 walked down to meet him. 
 
 He sprang to the ground, and was at her side in an- 
 other instant, leading Falcon by the bridle. 
 
 " Let us walk," said she ; " we are more undisturbed 
 than in the house." 
 
 With trembling hand he tied Falcon in a sheltered 
 spot, and they turned down a secluded path toward the 
 glen. 
 
 " Dear one, you are pale," said he, anxiously. " Now, 
 we must sweep away all those miserable obstacles, and 
 then we shall both be happier." 
 
 " Ah, if they could be swept away ! " she said, with a 
 wistful look at him. 
 
 " But you know, dear, I must be honest. I cannot make 
 myself hold beliefs — I " 
 
 " Yes, I know," she said, sighing, " that is it, and that 
 is just why it is so hopeless." 
 
 " But you would not for such a cause condemn us both 
 to wretchedness ; j'ou cannot mean that ! " 
 
 " Oh, Frank, don't break my heart! Help me to bear 
 this bravely. Do you not see what it is to me ? " And 
 she buried her face in her hands. 
 
 " Isabel, listen," said Frank, taking both of those 
 
236 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 hands into his own ; " listen ! Do you know what it 
 would mean for me if you persisted in this cruel course ? 
 It would destroy me. My life would be ruined. Think 
 — think what you are doing before it is too late." And he 
 looked into her eyes with an intensity which frightened 
 the girl. " Think of your realizing when it is past recall 
 that you have destroyed the happiness of two lives, and 
 for — what shall I call it? — for a mistaken idea, a fantasy, a 
 whim ! For I tell you, Isabel, there is no foundation in 
 this structure of the imagination. We would 7iot be sun- 
 dered. We would not grow apart. God and nature in- 
 tended our souls to be united as one. You are mine, 
 whether you give yourself to me or not. Have confidence 
 in our ability to help each other to a right understanding 
 of the matter." 
 
 Isabel trembled at his vehemence, and his eyes fairly 
 burnt her own wiih their intensity. She felt her courage 
 wavering. At that moment a step was heard approach- 
 ing. Fate did not intend she should reply in a moment 
 of weakness. 
 
 " A dispatch, sir, for Mr. Clayton," said the messenger. 
 " They told me to look for you here." 
 
 Frank tore open the envelope. It ran thus : 
 
 "It will be well to come at once ; important. 
 
 " Claude Duvall." 
 
 "Very well," he said, dismissing the messenger. 
 
 " Isabel, my fate cannot be delayed ; read this. I shall 
 sail to-morrow, unless — " and he looked with an eager- 
 ness almost pathetic into her eyes for a ray of hope. 
 
 Her hands trembled as she took the paper, and her lips 
 were very white when she said, " Well, it is better so. 
 You had better go, dear Frank," laying her hand with 
 sad tenderness on his shoulder. 
 
 " Go, I implore you ! " she repeated, seeing he hesitated. 
 " It sounds cruel, but I must say it." 
 
 " Yes, it is cruel," he said, in a choking voice. And 
 they walked back in silence to the house, 
 
 Isabel could never remember how it was when they re- 
 turned, and Mrs. Priest and Roland were told of Frank's 
 unexpected and immediate departure owing to the receipt 
 of an urgent message. In the midst of all the regrets and 
 
\ THE STORMY PETREL, 237 
 
 leave-taking, she sat as as one benumbed. She heard 
 something said of a possible war between North and 
 South, and heard Roland say : 
 
 " Of course you will fight, Clayton, in that case? " 
 
 " Oh, yes ; you know I have no one to live for, — and 
 such men make brave soldiers," he added, with a grim 
 laugh. 
 
 She could not stay longer in the room, and disappeared 
 for some minutes. 
 
 When she returned Clayton was about leaving. He 
 hesitated a moment, and then said, turning to Mrs. 
 Priest : 
 
 " May I see your daughter alone for a few moments be- 
 fore I leave ? " 
 
 They passed into the little library, and closed the door. 
 Ten minutes later the door again opened, and both came 
 out, pale and silent, 
 
 Frank did not glance at her again, but silently pressed 
 the hands of Roland and his mother, and in another mo- 
 ment was gone. 
 
CHAPTER XLIX. 
 
 The war-cloud not larger than a man's hand had gradu- 
 ally darkened the whole sky, and in April, 1861, the first 
 lurid flash at Fort Sumter was followed by a thun- 
 der peal which shook the land. The country was in 
 arms, John Brown's prediction was in process of fulfil- 
 ment. The pent up fires North and South had found 
 vent, and the awful conflagration must now run its course. 
 Few there were who could foresee the extent — the length, 
 nor the end — of that fiery track. But with what splendid, 
 unflinching bravery did men throw themselves into it ! 
 
 How well this opportunity for action suited Frank 
 Clayton need not be said. He knew not the meaning of 
 fear ; and now, under the stress of his great disappoint- 
 ment, he could think of no fate more to be desired than 
 to lay down his life for his country. He was too brave to 
 commit suicide; but this other he might do, and so end it 
 honorably and for a purpose. 
 
 The colonelcy of a regiment in Kentucky was offered 
 him ; but with a characteristic steadfastness and tenacity 
 of purpose he preferred the lieutenant's commission in a 
 cavalry regiment from Kansas, which seemed to offer an 
 opportunity of serving his old ends near and about this 
 field of action in days gone by. 
 
 One warm afternoon in September of 1861, a troop of 
 cavalry rode in hot haste into Fort Scott. The young 
 oflicer at their head dismounted and hastily presented 
 himself before the commanding oflicer, saying as he sa- 
 luted him : 
 
 " General, I have just captured a Confederate messen- 
 ger. He is just outside. Would you like to see him? 
 He was the bearer of these dispatches from General Price, 
 at Drywood Creek." 
 
 General Lane seized the paper eagerly, smiling as his 
 eye hastily ran through them. 
 
 "Lieutenant Clayton," said he, "send me this fellow at 
 pnce. This is a piece of good fortune ! You look tired ! 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 239 
 
 Go and get something to eat, order a fresh horse. Rest 
 for two hours, and then report to me. We must hit Gen- 
 eral Price in the face to-morrow morning before he gets 
 it washed." 
 
 "Are we to be reinforced to-night?" asked Clayton, in 
 surprise. 
 
 " Oh no, we must gain time b\' our audacity, which is 
 often equal in results to real power and skill. Our eight 
 hundred men and the little mountain howitzer will make 
 a deeper impression if hurled in the face of the sleeping 
 lion, than ten times the number coming up in regular bat- 
 tle array at the usual fighting hours." 
 
 Very little rest was there for man or beast in Fort Scott 
 on that September night. The few families of soldiers and 
 sutlers which had not been removed during the day were 
 busy all night. The coming and going of messengers, 
 orderlies, teamsters and soldiers bivouaced anywhere and 
 everywhere, in houses, on porches, verandas and yards, all 
 so recently occupied, and now deserted by the owners, who 
 had fled toward Lawrence and the interior of Kansas. 
 
 Lieutenant Clayton returned from the second scouting 
 expedition on which General Lane had despatched him at 
 ten in the evening, and reported the enemy quietly en- 
 camped, with but small, picket force out, and that so 
 posted as to make surprise and capture easy. 
 
 " Lieutenant," said the general, as Clayton was about 
 departing after making his second report, " we shall move 
 by three in the morning. You had better get some sleep 
 if you can. There is a mattress in the parlor thrown on 
 the piano — take these blankets, go in there and lie down. 
 I'd rather have you near in the event I should need you. 
 We are likely to have a lively time in the morning, and your 
 bed there may enable you to get keyed up to concert pitch." 
 
 " And that we may all pitch in concert," added Cla}-- 
 ton, as he took the blankets from General Lane's hand 
 and adopted his suggestion. 
 
 Just before daylight on the following morning Clayton 
 with a small detachment of cavalry might have been seen 
 carefully moving along the timber that skirted Drywood 
 Creek and near its crossing on the road to Fort Scott, then 
 halting till a messenger came from the same direction 
 with the command from General Lane to move at once as 
 his force was in position to strike. 
 
240 tHE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 The light was just sufficient to reveal the enemy's 
 pickets. Then as quietly as possible he got between 
 them and their camp. Coming leisurely up behind, he was 
 halted by the picket, who cried : 
 
 " Who comes there ? " 
 
 " Relief," responded Clayton. 
 
 " Advance, relief, and give the countersign." 
 
 Clayton rode up, and the first thing the picket knew he 
 felt the muzzle of a revolver thrust in his face, with the 
 stern command, " Surrender without a word, or you die ! " 
 
 " I will, sir, you bet," said the picket, coolly. " Don't 
 you shoot, and I won't, either." 
 
 After disarming him, Clayton said : " Now, if your life 
 is worth the pains, go along with me and aid by direc- 
 tions the capture of the other pickets. We want to give 
 General Price a surprise-party." 
 
 " I'll do it, Mr. Clayton." 
 
 " How, do you know my name? " said Clayton. 
 
 " Well, you see, Lieutenant, I was with Tom Living- 
 stone once when he tried to give you a surprise-party in 
 your cabin near Lawrence, and you and that devil, Claude 
 Duvall, got the drop on us, and we just lit out, and Duvall 
 he's now in prison at Independence." 
 
 "There, never mind," interposed the lieutenant, "I 
 know all the rest, and you are talking too loud now for 
 your own good or ours, for remember your life depends on 
 our success. If you iDetray us you'll be shot then and 
 there, and court-martialed afterward." 
 
 "You don't need to swear to that. Lieutenant. I be- 
 lieve you're telling the truth, and I intend to act on your 
 gentle hint, for you know a wink's as good as a nod to a 
 blind boss." 
 
 " How far are we from the next picket ? " 
 
 " Only round the point there. See, Lieutenant, he's 
 comin' this way thinkin' we're the relief. You've struck 
 it rich, seein' it's the very time for relieving guard." 
 
 At this moment a horseman was seen approaching, 
 and the picket rode straight into the trap. 
 
 " That was neatly done," said Clayton, laughing, as the 
 fellow, before he could recover his senses, found himself 
 relieved of his arms and accoutrements. 
 
 Thus one after another of the outposts were taken, un- 
 til the main crossing was reached. By this time it was 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 241 
 
 getting light enough to disclose the color of the clothing 
 of the men approaching, and the sentinel made a bold 
 dash for the crossing in the direction of the camp, when 
 an exciting race ensued. 
 
 Seeing the picket was gaining on them, and observing 
 General Lane's force coming up at double-quick. Lieuten- 
 ant Clayton ordered a corporal whom he kne^v to have a 
 cool head and a steady aim, to halt and shoot. 
 
 The order was instantly obeyed. A sharp report of a 
 rifle rang out on the morning air, and horse and rider 
 rolled in the long grass. Upon reaching him, Clayton 
 found the man lying stunned by the fall, and the horse 
 dead by his side. 
 
 He then joined his command in the advancing column, 
 and was first in position in front of the enemy's confused 
 and excited force. 
 
 General Price had barely time to throw forward his in- 
 fantry into a valley, where they lay low in the long grass, 
 back of which on a ridge were posted six pieces of 
 artillery, while resting back on the timber to his right was 
 his cavalry. 
 
 Clayton seeing a gleaming line of bayonets of the in- 
 fantry sinking out of sight in the long grass, wisely deter- 
 mined not to charge the artillery as he had been ordered 
 by General Lane to do, if success seemed at all likely. 
 
 The firing was opened by the cavalry with carbines, 
 and mounted as they were on green horses, the aim was 
 wild as that of the enemy's cannon, which alone replied. 
 Clayton seeing his men exposed to a severe fire, with 
 untrained horses in the face of such noise — shouting men 
 — rumbling wheels — cracking of rifles and booming of 
 cannon — realized they had all they could do to control the 
 maddened steeds. Hastily wheeling them into column 
 Clayton resolved to march them to the rear, dismount 
 them and try on foot, with greater hope of success. Just 
 at this point, under cover of the ridge on which they had 
 first formed, the adjutant with more foreign airs than mil- 
 itary skill rode up. Observing Clayton, he exclaimed : 
 
 "Retreating? — For shame. Why the devil don't you 
 halt your command and fight .'' " 
 
 " By the Eternal, Adjutant, if you don't stand out of my 
 way, I'll strike you with my sword ! " said he, raising it as 
 he spoke high above his head. " I know my duty, and I 
 
242 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 dare do it, too. Don't you see those men can't fight 
 mounted .'' " 
 
 The adjutant stood aside and soon saw the dismounted 
 cavalrymen return under their commander, the only 
 mounted man in sight of the enemy's artillery, which was 
 at once trained on the horseman. Fortunately, however, 
 all save one piece was too far removed to endanger him. 
 But this piece sent at last a shot so close as to make the 
 position anything but pleasant. Directing the aim of his 
 men toward it, a number of rounds were fired without 
 effect. 
 
 " By Jove ! that was a close shave," said Sergeant Jack, 
 as a shot carried away Clayton's overcoat, which was 
 rolled and strapped to his saddle. 
 
 " Yes," answered Clayton, coolly, " it was pretty close. 
 I don't think the horse likes it much," and he tried to 
 soothe the terrified animal. Then riding up to the officer 
 in charge of the firing-party, he said : 
 
 " What's the matter ? Your shots don't seem to take 
 effect." 
 
 *' No, confound it," he answered angrily. " It's those 
 long blades of grass, they interfere with our aim." 
 
 Just then another solid shot went by, humming a 
 requiem of death so near as to make both start. 
 
 Sergeant Jack was at Clayton's side in a moment. 
 " For God's sake, get off that horse," he said. " Don't 
 you see you are just a target for that piece .-" " 
 
 " Sergeant," said Clayton, not seeming to hear, " bring 
 me your rifle. Now hold my horse by the bits, two of 
 you, and let me try my hand on those gunners." The 
 first shot told on one of the number, and he was carried 
 to the rear, so one after another the men at this piece 
 were picked off by his steady aim, they responding the 
 while with shot and shell, grape and canister. Finally the 
 piece was hauled off by hand, and the duel with the can- 
 non ended in victory for the lieutenant. 
 
 By this time General Lane had come up with infantry 
 and one mountain howitzer under immediate command of 
 Colonel Montgomery. The battle continued at long 
 range for several hours, only the Springfield rifles of a 
 portion of the infantry and the Sharps carbines of the dis- ' 
 mounted cavalry being able to reach the enemy or do any 
 execution. 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 243 
 
 Observing that the cavahy posted to his left was mov- 
 ing rapidly in the direction of the crossing with evident 
 intention of cutting oE the retreat, Clayton called Colonel 
 Montgomery's attention to the fact. 
 
 " He has discovered our strength," said the colonel, 
 " and is going to try a flank movement on us." 
 
 " It looks as though it was our weakness he had dis- 
 covered," Clayton was saying to himself. 
 
 " We must retreat quietly without his knowledge," con- 
 tinued the colonel. " Lieutenant, mount your men and 
 cover our retreat." 
 
 The order to fall back was passed down the line and 
 the whole force retreated in order, leaving only the 
 cavalry detachment under Lieutenant Clayton in sight of 
 the enemy. Watching their movements Clayton fell back 
 just in time to make the crossing before the enemy's 
 cavalry could reach him. But despite his efforts several 
 unfortunate fellows were cut oiT and killed at the very 
 banks of the stream. After crossing over Clayton threw 
 his men in line of battle, and held the ford against more 
 than ten times his number, which came up to the timber's 
 edge and opened fire, but dared not venture to charge the 
 strong position. 
 
 The retreat back to Fort Scott was made in such good 
 order that it was not until next morning that General 
 Price learned it was only a small picket force holding the 
 crossing of the Drywood. 
 
 The audacity of the movement had resulted as General 
 Lane thought. Everything valuable had been removed 
 from Fort Scott. Fort Lincoln had been strengthened in 
 men and munitions of war, and the little army was in 
 light fighting trim. Price hovered near the spot where he 
 had been out-generaled for two days, by which time the lit- 
 tle army was reinforced by several militia companies, and 
 two or three regiments of volunteers. General Price saw 
 the force accumulating, and then commenced a retrograde 
 movement back to Missouri. The enemy out of the way, 
 a portion of the cavalry was sent to reconnoitre and 
 harass his rear. Lieutenant Clayton was of this com- 
 mand, and so closely did they follow that several skir- 
 mishes ensued between it and the enemy's rear-guard. 
 
 Then the enemy broke up into detachments and took 
 different routes ; the main body going south under Gen- 
 
244 "^"HE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 eral Price. At Ball's Mills, near the border, quite a large 
 force of graycoats had made a stand at the bridge across 
 the creek, and thrown up temporary breastworks along 
 its banks ; a strong force defending the cornfield, which 
 flanked the only road or lane leading to the bridge. 
 
 Again the mountain howitzer which accompanied the 
 command was brought into requisition, to shell the timber 
 and sweep the field with grape and canister. This had 
 the effect of driving the enemy from his position, when a 
 charge was sounded and away went the cavalry with a 
 shout, and gleaming steel flashed brightly in the sunlight, 
 as over ditch and fence, through hedge of thorns, across 
 the field, amid the corn, here a friend and there a foe, 
 they stop to shoot and away they go. The shells went 
 screaming overhead like destroying angels from Hades 
 loosed, bursting mid-air with hideous cry, then crashing 
 through bridge, horse, rider, or falling spent to the 
 ground. On rushed maddened, frighted steeds, riderless, 
 bent on escaping destruction. It was a scene of wild 
 horror. 
 
 Clayton's detachment was first to cross the bridge in 
 hot pursuit of the enemy's fleeing rear-guard, who having 
 fired it, didn't wait to see destruction complete, but fled 
 after their retreating comrades. After detailing men to 
 extinguish the flames, Clayton rushed on in pursuit of the 
 fleeing remnants. 
 
 Only a short distance away, he saw two men running 
 for the shelter of the wood on the left. 
 
 " After them ! " he cried, pointing toward the field 
 where they were. 
 
 The officer stopped to take down the fence, when Clay- 
 ton, foreseeing the men would escape such deliberate pur- 
 suit, put spurs to his horse, and ordering a file of men to 
 follow he cleared the fence, and gave chase, snouting 
 " Halt ! halt !" Then sheathing his sabre and drawing his 
 revolver, he fired a shot which brought the men to a stand 
 within twenty paces of the wood, where pursuit would have 
 been almost fruitless. The man in the rear cried : 
 
 " I'se shot, I gibs up. Mars Yankee, I gibs up." 
 
 "Hands up and surrender," shouted Clayton, as the 
 first man, in full Confederate colonel's uniform, turned 
 with blanched cheek, and in a faltering voice, said ; 
 
 " I surrender, sir, don't fire." 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 245 
 
 "Yes, sah, we gwinter gib up dis heah race." 
 
 The man who spoke last was getting up from the 
 ground as he uttered the words, a look of smiling satis- 
 faction on his face. 
 
 " I done tole Mars Henry way back yander dat it was 
 mighty more skerry to run dan to stop and gib it up." 
 
 " Yes, you d — d black rascal, if you hadn't been so in- 
 fernally slow, and had run as glibly as you talk, we 
 could have escaped," said his companion, scowling 
 fiercely. "Your smiling face shows how much you are 
 afraid of the Yankees." 
 
 "Now, Mars Henry, you knows how much I wanted to 
 go long wid de wagons, only a little way roun de bluff 
 road dah, wid de odder niggers an de mules, an de bosses, 
 an yer wouldn't lem me, but made dis nigger stay wid 
 you and tote dese yere tings," holding up as he did so 
 the colonel's sword and belt, and other impedimenta of 
 which he had relieved himself in the race. 
 
 Quickly relieving the negro of his valuables and his 
 master of his revolver, then turning the latter over to a 
 file of soldiers, Clayton ordered the negro to guide him 
 to the wagons, and to show the route the fleeing rebels 
 had taken. 
 
 After a short, sharp ride the fleeing party were 
 brought to a halt by the firing of the advance. Only a 
 short skirmish ensued, when the guard of the enemy fled, 
 and in a thick wood in an angle of the creek was found 
 the train of over a hundred and fifty negroes, men, 
 women and children, gathered from the neighborhood to 
 be taken further south with the army, all huddled 
 together with the horses, mules and provisions for a long 
 journey. After a brief pursuit of the fleeing and discour- 
 aged enemy the spoils of war and freedom were sent 
 back to Ball's Mills, where late in the evening the Union 
 forces went into camp for the night. 
 
CHAPTER L. 
 
 On the following morning Clayton obtained permission 
 of General Lane to send the colony of negroes into 
 Kansas, with all the stock, wagons, etc., etc. 
 
 " General Lane," said Clayton, " I want to keep trace of 
 these fugitives so that at the proper time when the Gov- 
 ernment will permit, they may be armed, equipped and 
 made soldiers of. There is splendid fighting material 
 here," said he. 
 
 The general shook his head. 
 
 " I believe you are right," said he, after a pause, " but, 
 our Government is not ready for such a radical innovation, 
 and would sufifer the rebellion to succeed rather than al- 
 low these sable sons to aid in its suppression. However, 
 it can do no harm for you to carry out your idea of mass- 
 ing them together in Kansas. Indeed, it must do good, 
 inasmuch as laborers are greatly needed, and these 
 men will take the places of white men who would readily 
 enlist if a substitute on the farm could be had." 
 
 And so it turned out that the colony went to Kansas 
 and Gilbert returned as a body-seivant to Lieutenant 
 Clayton. 
 
 Shortly after this, information was received that the 
 enemy were establishing a depot of supplies at Osceola, in 
 Missouri, and from that point large quantities had already 
 been distributed to other points. 
 
 General Lane decided to attack and destroy this depot. 
 He moved quickly by night, and with break of dawn 
 splinters of shot and shell rained on the unsuspecting 
 citizens and garrison. 
 
 Fortunately the Confederate forces were so posted 
 that neither the offensive nor defensive part of war put in 
 jeopardy the lives of the innocent women and children. 
 But the babble of voices, conflicting commands, swearing 
 of men, blowing of trumpets, clash of arms, the cries 
 and groans of frightened and dying men ; above which 
 broke at short intervals the booming cannon and bursting 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 247 
 
 shells, casting their lurid glare high in the heavens, made 
 a terrifying combination, to which was soon added flames 
 from the temporary barracks ; so that a novice might 
 have concluded that the crack of doom had indeed come. 
 
 Thus the battle raged for some hours, when the Confed- 
 erates precipitately fled, leaving the town and such of its 
 inhabitants as had not followed or preceded their de- 
 fenders an easy and unresisting prey. At the close of 
 the day, when the Union army was preparing to retreat. 
 General Lane despatched an orderly to command the 
 immediate pres&nce of Lieutenant Clayton. 
 
 As he presented himself with the usual military salute, 
 General Lane looked intently in the frank open face of 
 the young officer, and said : 
 
 " You were up all last night,, Lieutenant, and have slept 
 none to-day." 
 
 "Yes, and 'no, General. Under the circumstances, I 
 could not sleep if I would, and would not if I could." 
 
 " Good, I like that. Now tell me, are you fond of war, 
 — bloodshed and carnage — shrieking women and chil- 
 dren — burning homes and all the miseries attendant 
 thereon ? " 
 
 A shadow fell upon the young officer's face and he 
 answered vehemently : 
 
 "No sir, I abhor it. The whole front and circumstance 
 of war is harrowing to my soul, and nothing but the 
 highest sense of duty could induce me to inflict such hor- 
 ror upon a fellow-man. I could have an arm taken off in 
 the line of duty with a better grace." 
 
 "Give me your hand, Lieutenant," said the grizzled old 
 general. "Now, Lieutenant, it is a military necessity 
 that this town shall be burned, utterly i/cstrflyed, do you 
 hear? — and I want it done as speedily and humanely as 
 possible. Mingle no unkindness with the flame of your 
 torch, but spare nothing which will afford protection, food 
 or comfort to the enemy. That large storehouse of 
 salt — I am at a loss how to dispose of it." 
 
 " You may leave that to me, General," answered Clay- 
 ton, with a smile. " I'll see that it loses its savor. 
 There is room on the top for a lot of whiskey, turpentine, 
 coal-oil, tar and rosin lying now in the warehouse, 
 which when fired will saturate the mass. Do you not 
 think it will make a good combination ? But, Gen- 
 
248 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 eral," — and the smile died out of his face, deep lines fur- 
 rowing his forehead between the eyes — " there is a 
 harder problem for me to solve ; how shall I resist the ap- 
 peals of the poor women and children, who, having 
 confidence in the honor, integrity and humanity of the 
 old f^ag, and the brave officers and men who bear it aloft, 
 have remained at home ? In God's name, tell me that. 
 How can I resist their pleadings that their homes be 
 spared ?" 
 
 "Yes, it's hard, but, that is war," said the general, 
 grimly. " Wrap about them the stars and stripes ; help 
 them to remove their household goods ; weep with them 
 in kindly sympathy ; but — destroy the houses, it must 
 be so." 
 
 By the time the sun had set and the victorious army 
 was well moved out of Osceola, Lieutenant Clayton, with 
 his detachment of men, was busily engaged in piling 
 high on the huge mass of salt all the combustibles at 
 hand, which completed, he set about removing the goods 
 from the various houses of such of the poor as would not 
 believe destruction was imminent. 
 
 The piteous and heartrending appeals for home and 
 shelter, the hardening of a heart naturally tender to such 
 appeals, must be passed over in silence. It was too ter- 
 rible. The memory is too harrowing. 
 
 And now the hour has come, as the shades of night 
 draw nigh, for the lighting of the candles. And such 
 huge tapers as Clayton and his little band did light ! 
 casting long spectral shadows as the men under his al- 
 most omnipresent and personal supervision helped the 
 weeping women to take to places of safety such things as 
 could be removed before the torch was applied. 
 
 Late at night, when the work of destruction had well- 
 nigh subsided, then Clayton and his party, after knocking 
 in the heads of barrels of whiskey, oil and tar resting on 
 the mass of salt, touched a match and in an instant the 
 whole roof of the huge structure seemed to lift high into 
 the heavens, a living sheet of blood-red flame ; and the 
 burning stream ran like fiery serpents in every direction. 
 The very heavens were ablaze. 
 
 A few hours later, the conflagration having partly 
 spent its fury, Clayton stood on an eminence overlook- 
 ing not Osceola, but where that rebellious town was only 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 249 
 
 yesternight in all her vaunted security and pride, where 
 now shone only a vast assemblage of fire-flies, small lu- 
 minaries winking 'neath their ashen brows at the colossal 
 jack-o-lantern, or great central sun, seemingly destined to 
 set the world on fire. 
 
 " Thus it was," soliloquized he, "that Sodom burned, 
 and I wonder if the pillar of salt into which Lot's wife 
 was turned could have been half as bright and beautiful 
 as the many-colored columns of fire and smoke that shoot 
 heavenward," as ev^er and anon a loud report of a burst- 
 ing barrel of some combustible would send burning staves 
 and cinders like meteors high above the blazing column, 
 to be lost finally in outer darkness. 
 
 Turning his back on the sickening sight, where shelter- 
 less women and children hover around these smoulder- 
 ing mounds, Clayton sought General Lane's tent, where 
 the army had gone into camp five miles from the city of 
 ashes. 
 
 "General, your orders are obeyed," said he. 
 
 "You are pale, sir," said the commanding officer, look- 
 ing at him intently for a moment. 
 
 "Yes, it is horrible work. I feel ten years older for 
 those five hours of cruel destruction." 
 
 " Clayton, give me your hand," said the elder man. " I 
 wanted that work done thoroughly as a man who loved 
 such destruction would do it, and yet I wanted it divested 
 of all unnecessary brutality, with one eye to obedience 
 and the other eye on humanity's claims: I thank you. 
 I think the order has been faithfully executed in spirit and 
 in letter. Go get your breakfast, dinner and supper, 
 and after that two nights' rest in one." 
 
CHAPTER LI. 
 
 On the following morning, while the soldiers were busy 
 with breakfast around their camp fires, Dick and Gilbert 
 were seen standing apart in earnest conversation with a 
 tall colored man dressed in homespun. He wore also a 
 well-worn, high silk hat, his hands resting on a long, old- 
 fashioned Kentucky rifle, as he talked, and by his side 
 the faithful coon-dog which seemed to be an attentive 
 auditor as he looked up in the faces of those men. After 
 a time Dick approached Lieutenant Clayton and informed 
 him there was a man who wanted to see him on important 
 business. 
 
 "Lieutenant, 'dis yeres an ole feller-serbant of mine, 
 whats jis left a big lot of darkies bout live or six miles 
 from heah." 
 
 " Oh, Gilbert," interposed the other, " it's more'n dat, 
 it's wellnigh on to eight miles eben if they stayed whar 
 I lef em las night." 
 
 "What is your name," asked the lieutenant, 
 
 ''My name,, sah's, John Murray," and he took off the 
 old hat which in s'ze, color and length resembled a joint 
 of stovepipe, at the same time bowing low and bringing 
 the right foot backward with a long scrape as a mark 
 of respect and submission. "An I come. Mars Lieuten- 
 ant, to de Yankee army to see if enybody as wud like ter 
 take in a big party of niggers what's all tucked in wagons 
 wid mules and bosses, an dars precious few sogers wid 
 em either, and deys skeered bad nuff to run away if a 
 chestnut pop right loud at dey heels." 
 
 "In which direction from here, John, is this train?" 
 asked the lieutenant. 
 
 " Oh, sah, it's jis off heah to de sunrise, and we kin trot 
 dat mighty quick. Yes, sah, dey'U stay dah till de 
 Yankee dun clean gone. Deys afeared to move les dey 
 get kolcht by the Yankee cabalry. You see. Mars Lieu- 
 tenant, deys tryin to get us niggers fudder souf and we 
 don't keer to go ; we's too far dat way now, bless yer." 
 
THE STORMY PETREL, 25! 
 
 When the march was resumed Lieutenant Clayton ob- 
 tained permission of General Lane to make a detour 
 from the direct line with his troop of cavalry, and 
 under John Murray's skilful guidance the whole train of 
 over a hundred negroes, thirty odd wagons and teams, 
 were captured without any bloodshed. The few stragglers 
 from the defeated army at Osceola, who were making a 
 pretence of guarding the train, fled precipitately on the 
 firing of the first gun. 
 
 Not a white man could be found in camp. " Everyone 
 on em gon'd, all dun run away, Mars Yankee," said an old 
 white-headed man, who took the lead in emerging from a 
 corral of negroes. 
 
 John Murray was soon espied, and a shout went up 
 from the throng, and they literally lifted him off his horse 
 and carried him to the wagons, singing and shouting 
 " Hallelujah. Dis de Moses what com'd for the children 
 ob Israel." 
 
 One of the old men who was next in importance to John 
 Murray on this plantation, rode up by the side of Clayton 
 on the march, and said : 
 
 " Mars Lieutenant, I'se got a ole oman an seven mighty 
 likely boys an gals down heah on the plantation by de 
 creek at Mars Lindsay's, I'd like monstrous well to tuck 
 em along wid us ter freedom." 
 
 "Well, old man, what is your name," said Clayton. 
 
 " My name, sah, is Sam, an dey some times call me Uncle 
 Sam, at you sarvice, Mars Lieutenant." 
 
 " Indeed, no. Uncle Sam, I am at your service, now 
 more than before I knew you personally, and when I 
 only served '' Uficle Sam's ' cause." 
 
 Then drawing his sword Clayton with utmost formality 
 saluted Uncle Sam, and bade him lead the way to where 
 his wife and the seven boys could be found. 
 
 The white-haired old darkey looked in astonishment as 
 he rode bare-headed by the officer's side, who finally ex- 
 plained that all the Yankee army served the United States, 
 which was called Uncle Sam, which he enjoyed very 
 much. 
 
 John Murray rode up and verified Uncle Sam's account 
 of his family, adding that there were a number of other 
 colored people on the same plantation who would like to 
 go alons: " wid cle armv ob de Lord." 
 
252 THE STORMY PETREL. . 
 
 Crossing the creek at a ford near by, and after a sharp 
 march of an hour or so, Clayton, with his detachment and 
 colored guides, came to Colonel Lindsay's farm, and to 
 their utter astonishment saw quite a body of cavalry in 
 the barn-yard. 
 
 Skirmishers were deployed, who soon discovered the 
 troops wore Uncle Sam's blue livery, and a shout of joy 
 went up from both sides, who had been taken by surprise. 
 
 Lieutenant Clayton rode into the yard, where were 
 standing several United States officers of a Wisconsin 
 regiment, earnestly talking to a crowd of negroes of all 
 ages. Li the midst of the group stood old Colonel Lind- 
 say, with his white hair flowing down on his shoulders, 
 a kind and benevolent face, with a long staff for a cane in 
 his hand. He was speaking earnestly to the slaves, who 
 stood around listening attentively. 
 
 " You all know I have ever treated you kindly, and you 
 have fared about as well as your master ; you have never 
 been required to work when you were not able and were 
 well fed and clad. If any of you are anxious to leave 
 me you have the opportunity, for you can readily under- 
 stand I cannot resist this armed force." 
 
 "Yes," said a large officer, wearing a captain's straps 
 and uniform, " now is your time if you want your freedom ; 
 pack up your traps and come right along. I am d — d if 
 I leave a mother's son of you that don't want to stay. 
 What say you, old man ? " he continued, as he approached 
 a group of the negroes, who stood near where Clayton sat 
 on his horse, a silent spectator. 
 
 " Mars Lindsay alius been kine to us, sah, and we 
 doesn't want to leab him, sah." 
 
 " There, I told you so," chimed in the colonel. " All of 
 these people prefer to stay with me rather than go with 
 you." 
 
 " All right," said the captain. " I have offered you 
 freedom and you choose to remain in slavery ; mount your 
 men, Sergeant, and let us go on." 
 
 Clayton rode up and saluting, said : 
 
 "Captain, will you permit me to manage this affair.?" 
 
 " Certainly you may, Lieutenant. I have done with it, 
 and you may lake charge." 
 
 " Thanks, I'll see what I can do. — Colonel Lindsay, 
 I believe," lifting his hat, as he dismounted and stood 
 
THE STORMY PETREL 253 
 
 by the old patriarch. " My name is Clayton, and I 
 have to ask that you'll step into the house. I want to 
 talk to these negroes away from the presence of their 
 master." 
 
 " No, Mr. Clayton, this is my yard, and these are my 
 negroes, who have already decided to remain with me." 
 
 "All right, Colonel, I simply wanted to spare you the 
 painful sight of their being forced to leave you, and take 
 all the available horses, teams and provisions on the 
 plantation." 
 
 " My God ! you are not going to rob me, are you .'' 
 Here's my purse, sir, but spare these people." 
 
 " Keep your purse, Colonel Lindsay, that's trash ; we 
 want negroes and horses for Uncle Sam," and without 
 waiting for further reply he mounted ; then drawing his 
 sword he rode among the negroes, commanding with a 
 threatening attitude : 
 
 " Each and every one of you pack up in a huny what- 
 ever of clothing and other effects you have, and leave 
 here in half an hour. Some of you hitch up those horses, 
 mules and wagons ; get together provisions to last a 
 month now, and don't be long about it. Come now, 
 quick, we have only a few moments." 
 
 Then such bustling around, with faces intended to be 
 long and sad, but shining through the very thin mist was 
 the silent joy that like a deep stream ever runs quietly to 
 the haven of repose. 
 
 Colonel Lindsay stood mute with astonishment, and 
 the tears ran down his cheeks as he saw evidences of glad- 
 ness, not grief, in the faces of those people who were now 
 under the sword compelled to do that which they had re- 
 fused when invited. The women in the house pleaded 
 with those to remain who had grown up under their 
 charge in vain. 
 
 " Bless yer life, missus, ef dat man whats got dat knife 
 whats longer dan a fence-rail, will only lem me stay den I 
 will. But you des see him out dar like a wild sabbage, jis 
 swarin' all ob us got to go, and I'se afeard, I is." 
 
 To all appeals Clayton was deaf, and the uniform an- 
 swer was : " No, ladies, these people must go to Kansas 
 and taste the sweets of freedom ; then if they want to 
 come back they will be privileged to do so, but go they 
 must, and that now," 
 
254 I'HE STORMV PETREL. 
 
 Captain Sampson stood amazed at the alacrity witli 
 which the negroes obeyed the command to march to free- 
 dom, and when the caravan was under way, he asked old 
 Uncle Pete who rode along with a smiling face through 
 which shone a deep joy: 
 
 "How is it. Uncle, that you refused my entreatry and 
 obeyed so willingly the lieutenant's command? " 
 
 " Well, yer see, sah, de old mars he stays dar looking 
 on, an he see de nigger ob his own will gwine away, an ef 
 he eber kotch him agin it go jes' as hard on the bare 
 back wid de cat es ef he run away in de night on de un- 
 dergroun road. An ef yer come at a nigger wid freedom, 
 stickin' on de pint ob a sword, like dat mad lieutenant jis 
 now, and say, ' Heah, nigger, open yer mouf an tuck dis, 
 or I cut yer head off,' den ole mars feel sorry for us, an 
 ef he kotched me agin he knowed de nigger could not 
 help hesef." 
 
 " Dat's a fac," put in Uncle Sam, who had been listen- 
 ing to the conversation ; " an den again I'se offen heard 
 de ole missus say t'want good manners to say to de gess 
 what at de table : ' Won't yer like some ob de nice pre- 
 sarbs what I'se got in de pantry? — mighty nice jelly an 
 jam and pound-cake, too, ef yer'd like some.' No, sah, 
 jis plump de good tings down on de plate right afore you 
 an say, 'Take dis, now; it's good for you, an don't make 
 fuss 'bout it needer. Now, dat's de way de mars lieuten- 
 ant whats comin yonder does wid freedom; he got de 
 bes kind er manners. He gibs you taste ob it first, an 
 den ax yer how yer like him, eh, Uncle Pete ? " 
 
 "Dat's a fac. Uncle Sam," responded the old man. 
 
 CJayton rode up, and Captain Sampson went forward 
 with him, leaving the two old darkies to talk over the 
 prospects of freedom, that now seemed assured after so 
 many years of slavery, with scarcely a spark of hope to 
 break the thick cloud that had hedged them about from 
 birth and promised them a winding-sheet in death. 
 
CHAPTER LII. 
 
 The news of Claude's arrest, which Claj^ton had 
 learned from his prisoner the morning of the battle at 
 Drywood, was true. Confirmation of the story soon 
 reached him. Duvall had been aiding the escape of a 
 slave woman, it was said, near Independence, Missouri, 
 and was now kept there awaiting safe conduct to the 
 penitentiary at Jefferson City. 
 
 On the arrival of the command at Kansas City, 
 Clayton obtained permission from General Lane to at- 
 tempt his rescue, and with a detachment of cavahy, made 
 a night march, reaching Independence at daylight. In 
 a few minutes he had surrounded the town, the jailer 
 was a prisoner, and Duvall found himself in the arms of 
 his friend and deliverer. 
 
 " My God ! you are like to an angel from heaven to 
 deliver me from this place ! " exclaimed he, gratefully em- 
 bracing Clayton. 
 
 " Why, old fellow, you are a skeleton ! How long have 
 you been in this foul den ? " he asked, looking around with 
 a shudder. " Come out into the sunlight and let me get 
 you something to eat. You look as if you were starved." 
 
 Claude was so utterly broken down by many months of 
 suffering in mind and body, that he could not stand the 
 sudden revulsion of feeling in finding himself a free man, 
 and safe with the friend he adored. He covered his face 
 and sobbed like a child. 
 
 Leaving the jailer and citizens to wonder as to where 
 the force came from or whither it tended, the pickets and 
 sentinels posted were called in, and the line of march for 
 Kansas City resumed by a different route than the one 
 b}' which they came. 
 
 They had not ridden very far when a messenger on 
 horseback met them and inquired for Lieutenant Clayton. 
 
 '* I am Lieutenant Clayton," was the answer, extend- 
 ing his hand for the dispatch in the hand of the orderly, 
 and quickly tearing open the paper. His face changed 
 
256 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 as he read. With a deep frown and compressed Hps, 
 he handed the paper to his co^iijDanion, saying, " Duvall, 
 read that." 
 
 "An officer from General Sturgis is on his way to meet 
 you with orders to return all slaves and other property to 
 their rightful owners; Kansas is a safer place than 
 Missouri for these people. See that you have none of 
 them in your command when this order is received. 
 
 "L." 
 
 " What are you going to do ? " asked Claude. 
 
 Not seeming to hear the question Clayton ordered the 
 train to be turned off from the main road into one less 
 frequented. Then he said : 
 
 " Claude you must take care of these people ; I will give 
 you a small detachment of soldiers. Get them safely 
 into Kansas — to Lawrence, if possible." 
 
 Hastily saying farewell, he pressed on with his column 
 of cavalry. 
 
 About a half hour later the staff officer bearing 
 General Sturgis' order came in sight. He was a lieuten- 
 ant of the Regular Army, and in parade uniform. He 
 was accompanied in great state by a guard of troopers, 
 and at their heels were a half-dozen or more aggrieved 
 slave-owners, who had come to claim their property. 
 
 Clayton properly measured the swelling importance of 
 the young officer, and was saying inwartlly, " I'll make 
 short work of this young 'fuss and feathers.' " 
 
 Bowing courteously, he said, after reading the order : 
 
 "Certainly, if these gentlemen will point out what 
 properly here belongs to them, I shall assuredly return it. 
 Look for yourselves, gentlemen." 
 
 It is needless to say, they did not find what they 
 sought. 
 
 Disappointed and angry, one of them said with an 
 insolent defiance : 
 
 " Were you at Independence this morning ? " 
 
 Clayton said very gravely : " I must decline, sir, to 
 answer any questions concerning my duty here." 
 
 "Oh, you may answer the gentleman's question," 
 interposed the pompous little second-lieutenant, "it is a 
 perfectly proper one." 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 257 
 
 Clayton turned and looked at him for a moment in 
 silence, then said : 
 
 "Of course I understand that I ;;/(?>' do so, but I do 
 not choose to comply." 
 
 The young lieutenant looked as if he were about to 
 burst with rage and astonishment. 
 
 " The devil you don't," he blurted out. " Well, I am a 
 member of General Sturgis' staff, and I command sow to 
 answer." 
 
 " And I decline," said Clayton, " to receive orders 
 from a subordinate," and as he said this he threw back 
 the corner of his military cape, revealing one bar too 
 many for the young braggart. " Besides," continued 
 Clayton, eyeing him as if not yet through with him, 
 " besides, I hold my commission direct from the Presi- 
 dent of the United States." 
 
 Then turning to the men who looked as crestfallen as 
 their leader, he said : 
 
 " Since we have nothing here belonging to you, gentle- 
 men, I shall go on at once," and instantly the bugle 
 sounded " Forward," and the interview was ended. 
 
 But there was to be a sequel to the episode. 
 
 Soon after arriving in camp and whilst Clayton was 
 reporting to General Lane the result of his expedition, 
 an officer came in with an order from General Sturgis 
 placing Lieutenant Clayton under arrest for disobedience 
 of orders. 
 
 " This is the officer you seek," said General Lane, 
 turning to Lieutenant Clayton, who was sitting near by 
 and handing him the order to read. 
 
 When he had finished General Lane said quietly, 
 "Lieutenant Clayton, you will give me your sword and 
 consider yourself under arrest with the liberty of the 
 camp, which includes the city." 
 
 Clayton unbuckled his belt and handed his sword to 
 General Lane, who smiling said : 
 
 "We will have a court-martial to-morrow and the mat- 
 ter inquired into." 
 
 Then turning to the aid in attendance, he said, with 
 mock solemnity and military air : 
 
 "Captain, you will report to General Sturgis that his 
 order has been executed and that I will connnunicate fur- 
 ther with him in writins;." 
 
258 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 Then with a formal salute the captain took his leave. 
 
 On the following day a court-martial was convened and 
 Lieutenant Clayton duly arraigned and pleaded not 
 guilty. The Judge Advocate proceeded to read General 
 Sturgis' order, and put on the witness-stand the pompous 
 second-lieutenant, who when cross-questioned by Clay- 
 ton, who conducted his own defence aided by Colonel 
 Anthony, admitted that every facility was afforded him 
 and the aggrieved slave-holders to find their property and 
 that none such could be found in the command. Wit- 
 nesses were introduced to prove that Lieutenant Clayton 
 had, on that morning, broken open the jail at Indepen- 
 dence, Missouri, and taken therefrom a prisoner convicted 
 of a heinous crime and also robbed the plantations of 
 several citizens of Missouri of fifteen or twenty valuable 
 negroes, several teams, horses, mules, provisions, etc., 
 which were a part of his command in the morning. 
 
 " I protest, may it please the Court," said Clayton, 
 " against the introduction of this testimony before this 
 Court, as not being pertinent to the charge of disobedi- 
 ence of General Sturgis' order which has been read to 
 this honorable Court. As you are aware, neither the 
 charge nor any of the several specifications allude to the 
 subject on which this testimony is sought to be intro- 
 duced. If I am guilty of disobedience or transcending 
 orders on this expedition, I am accountable to General 
 Lane, under whose orders I was acting up to the moment 
 I received the order from General Sturgis, which forms 
 the basis of the charges preferred against me. I ask this 
 honorable Court to rule out this testimony and consider 
 only such as will tend to show whether or not the prop- 
 erty alluded to in General Sturgis' order was under my 
 control or in my custody at the time when this order 
 reached me ; and whether or not I showed a disposition 
 to respect and execute that order as coming from my supe- 
 rior officer in the military service. If other testimony than 
 the prosecuting witness be needed to prove that the order 
 was complied with to the letter, I have it at hand. You 
 will see that I am required to turn over to these aggrieved 
 parties such slaves and other property as may be with or 
 attached to my command. If it is not shown that I 
 refused compliance, then I ask acquittal at your hands, 
 and on that I rest my case." 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 259 
 
 The court was cleared for consideration of the protest, 
 which resuhed speedily in ruling out the testimony 
 offered, and the Judge Advocate having no other testi- 
 mony, Lieutenant Clayton was acquitted without further 
 formality, and by General Lane placed on duty with his 
 command. 
 
CHAPTER LIII. 
 
 Claude returned in a few days and reported his mis- 
 sion safely accomplished. The negroes were now on 
 free soil in Kansas. 
 
 Now that the two friends were united once more, it 
 was Clayton's determination to keep Claude as near him 
 as possible. 
 
 " How would 3'ou like a lieutenancy in my company }" 
 asked he. 
 
 Duvall's face beamed. 
 
 "There is a vacancy. Wilcox has been obliged to 
 resign on account of ill-health." 
 
 And so it came about that Claude found himself in the 
 uniform of an officer of the Army of the United States, 
 and threw himself, with all the ardor of his temperament, 
 into the conflict. 
 
 " Ah ! You all seem like Italians," he said to Clayton ; 
 "it makes me to love your countrymen, to see such a 
 splendid courage, such bravery. Jfo/i Z)/c-u, it is a coun- 
 try worth sacrifice ! But then, my friend, one need not 
 be reckless ; it is enough to be brave, but why shall 
 one go always into the place most dangerous } You do 
 not right, my dear Clayton ; you ask always for this post 
 of danger or that — you make nothing of your life — and 
 you have no right to do this." 
 
 As Clayton was leaving General Lane's quarters in the 
 afternoon of his acquittal by the court-martial, he met 
 Dick, accompanied by a man too near white to be called 
 a negro, and yet so dark as to be a questionable white 
 man. He was one of those squarely-built, heavy-set men, 
 reminding one of the cube. No matter what happens he 
 is always the same height, same proportion, indeed come 
 good or ill he is always right side up. His face, like his 
 form, was square, with deep-set eyes which beamed with 
 intense brightness like great lamps in a cavern, overhung 
 with great shaggy brows ; and a chin and mouth in per- 
 fect keeping with his entire make up. With broad-brimmed 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 261 
 
 black hat, his huge form loosely draped in a suit of butter- 
 nut jeans, he moved with the easy strength of a colossal 
 engine. 
 
 " Why, Dick," exclaimed Clayton — " You here .'' I 
 thought you were in Lawrence." 
 
 "Well, yer see, Mars Frank," explained Dick ; "this 
 here man's name is Dan Dickson, an so he tole me he's 
 got a wife an three children jis across the river here an he 
 has rund over to see if he can find anybody what '11 dar 
 go an bring um to Kansas an not let em go back 'cept 
 they take all hands dead. An I tole him what you'd 
 done for me, an that you kinder use to help Captain 
 Brown an sometimes the captain had ter help you in this 
 business, an he said at once I mus cum rite along an 
 help him plead wid you to get his folks away. — An now 
 Dan," said Dick, turning to this man, who stood the while 
 with uncovered head, looking intently at the lieutenant 
 who, though listening to Dick in his earnest appeal, was 
 none the less studying the strange-looking man before 
 him. He was wondering how such a combination of 
 physical and mental force could be kept in slavery for a 
 day; to say nothing of the nearly half century this man 
 had evidently passed under the yoke. 
 
 "It is like seeing a lion held in leading-strings by 
 children," mused he, "unconscious that one stroke of Iiis 
 mighty paw would annihilate the beings who hold him." 
 
 There was a native stiengih and dignity about the man, 
 which impressed Clayton powerfully. 
 
 " Put on your hat, Dan," said he, unwilling to receive 
 the homage of this Titan. " What's your other name, 
 Dan ? " 
 
 "Well, sah," said Dan, speaking for the first time, and 
 his voice like the rest of him had the characteristics of the 
 cube. " My ole mars' name was Lucas an lived in Wash-" 
 ington. District of Columbia, where I were born, sah, but 
 dey alius call me Dan Webster, sah. Caws he, dat mighty 
 man, sah, used to kinder take some notice ob me, when he 
 come to see Mars Lucas, and he make me bring him drink 
 of water, say he's goin to buy me some ob dese days, an 
 have a plantation of his own. An they call me Dan 
 Webster an so it stuck to me ever sence. Then Mars 
 Lucas he died, and Miss Mary she married Mr. Dickson 
 of Missouri, jis across the river heah, an so we moved to 
 
262 THE STORMY PETREL, 
 
 the ole plantation, where my wife an the childern are 
 now, waitin an spcctin me jis an}' night to drop down, 
 pick em up and fly away wid em." 
 
 As he ran on with this family recital Clayton was watch- 
 ing the man's face. 
 
 "Extraordinary!" he exclaimed. " Positively extraor- 
 dinary — Dan, you are well named. Do you know you are 
 the living image of that great statesman ?'' 
 
 But Dan was thinking about the dusky family across 
 the river and ingeniously showing " Mars Clayton how 
 very easy it would be to get a small boat — then on the 
 other side turn to yonr left till you cum to the branch " 
 
 " Well," said Clayton, good-naturedly, "Come along — 
 we'll see what can be done. I'm going to take you in to 
 see General Lane. But, listen to me. I have a partic- 
 ular reason for wishing you to keep on your hat for a 
 moment after we enter." 
 
 " But, Mars Clayton," gasped Dan, in horror. " Whar'll 
 he think my manners is gon ter." 
 
 " No matter, do as I tell you," laughed Clayton. 
 
 On entering, Lieutenant Clayton said : 
 
 " General Lane, allow me to introduce Daniel Webster, 
 who comes on an important mission in which your good 
 offices are solicited." 
 
 The general turned his eyes in the direction indicated, 
 and Clayton amused himself by watching the look of 
 amazement which spread over his face. Then turning to 
 Cla3'ton, he said : 
 
 " Who is this .'' What does it mean ? " 
 
 "Take off your hat, Dan," said Clayton, and there he 
 stood the absolute double, or alter ego of the man for whom 
 lie was named. 
 
 "Well," said the general, " that is the most extraordi- 
 nary resemblance I ever beheld. Why, positively, the fel- 
 low frightened me. Who is he ? and what does he want ? " 
 
 " Just what we all want in this world, General, to have 
 those he loves near to him. His family are just across 
 the river yonder, and I think I might " 
 
 "That'll do," said the general, with a warning gesture. 
 "That'll do. No matter about the details. Remember, I 
 know nothing about it. Do you hear? Nothing whatever, 
 ^'ou see your friend Sturgis might want to know something 
 about it, too," added he, a humorous twinkle in his eye, " I 
 
THE STORJMY PETREL. 263 
 
 leave Daniel Webster in your hands, Lieutenant, and — oh, 
 by the way, you needn't report to me before nine o'clock 
 to-morrow morning." 
 
 About ten o'clock that night four men in citizens' 
 clothes passed through the lines, and went rapidly clown 
 the river-bank where were moored two old-fashioned 
 dugouts or canoes. They paddled across the river, and 
 quietly made their way up the bank for some distance, 
 then turning to the left, struck off across the country for a 
 mile or so. A turn in the road brought them directly in 
 front of a large house, the black outline of which was all 
 that could be discerned in the darkness. 
 
 "That's Mars Dickson's house," whispered Dan, "An 
 you see that clump of trees over yonder, that's where I 
 lives. I'll jist slip round to the back an git inter the 
 winder — cause Mars Dickson, he keeps his shot-gun 
 loaded an it's mity close to my front door, too.'' 
 
 " Where are the horses ? ' said Clayton, prudently 
 whispering as Dan had done. 
 
 " They's in the barn over there," said Dan, point- 
 ing, "an ii"ll be mity ticklish bizness gittin em out, 
 too." 
 
 "The boys will look after that," said Clayton, reassur- 
 ingly, " You go in the cabin and get your family safely 
 out. We'll see to the rest." 
 
 Going back to where the other two men stood, there 
 was a short whispered conference ; then Clayton followed 
 the path he had seen Dan take toward the group of trees 
 indicated by him. 
 
 A faint light glimmered somewhere within. The win- 
 dow was open, and it was evident Dan had mounted a 
 chicken-coop beneath it and thus gotten inside of his own 
 domicile. 
 
 Clayton stood wailing silently and breathlessly, dread- 
 ing lest some sounds should come from the barn, from 
 which the men were removing the horses preparatory to 
 the flight. But he was satisfied they were moving skil- 
 fully, as not a sound broke the stillness. Presently a 
 head cautiously appeared at the window. 
 
 " You there. Mars Lieutenant?" 
 
 " All right," whispered Clayton. 
 
 Dan lowered first a bundle, cautiously, then one child, 
 then the mother with still another in her arms climbed 
 
264 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 down upon the chicken-coop, Clayton speeding her move- 
 ments from below and Dan helping her as he followed 
 behind. Just as it was all accomplished, an unluckly 
 touch from Dan turned the button, and down came the 
 sash with a crash. 
 
 All stood perfectly still for a minute, then hearing noth- 
 ing, started fast as feet could carry them toward the 
 barn. 
 
 At the distance of a hundred yards they were com- 
 pelled to emerge from cover, and as they came in sight 
 there was a flash and a loud report from the house, fol- 
 lowed closely by another, and the buckshot went whist- 
 ling through the air all around them. The babe in the 
 mother's arms gave one terrified scream, but was soon 
 quieted by her soothing voice. Clayton drew his revol- 
 ver and fired several shots at three men, whom he 
 could distinguish at the door; then Dick and the other 
 two men fired also. 
 
 Dan mounted a horse, and WMth his wife behind him 
 and a child clasped by one arm, dashed swiftly away, 
 saying, " Follow me. Mars Clayton. Mars Dickson 
 he'll go cross the hill on foot soon's he finds the 
 horses done gone, and try to git to the crossing fust. 
 You'll have to be mity spry." And on he rushed, with his 
 family clinging to him on all sides. It was a desperate 
 dash for freedom. 
 
 Once out of range of the shot-guns, they took it more 
 easily, knowing there were no more horses with which 
 to pursue them, and that they were safe until they met at 
 the ferry, where as Dan said, Dickson would certainly 
 try to head them off. 
 
 It was just before dawn that they came in sight of the 
 river. The boats were waiting for them. Daniel placed 
 his wife in the bow of the canoe, she still holding the 
 sleeping child in her arms. He then passed the rope 
 halter of the horse he had ridden to the men, with in- 
 structions to hold on and let the horse swim by the boat. 
 Then jumping in the stern, he pushed off, and Daniel led 
 the horse he had ridden. The other members of the 
 party took the other canoe. Clayton plunging his horse 
 in rode over on his back, whilst the other horses 
 were led alongside. They had only gotten well into the 
 rapid current when the loud report of a gun was heard, 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 265 
 
 and the bucksliot splashed ominously in the water around 
 the boat. Clayton drew his revolver and responded to 
 the fire, as did the other members of the party. The 
 horse led by the boy plunged, and came near upsetting 
 the boat as he strained on the rope by which he was led, 
 and which had served as a bridle also. 
 
 "We done git away from dose shot-guns, and now it 
 seems like we's goin ter be drownded," said Dan's wife, 
 whose courage was wellnigh exhausted. "Why didn't 
 you leab tings alone ? We wuz cumftable enulif," said 
 she. 
 
 "Now, Molly," said Dan, "don't you go and lose 
 your sperrit. We've got through the wust of it. We're 
 safe as if we wuz home in our own cabin now. Dose 
 shot-guns may fire away, but dey can't reach you now, 
 honey." 
 
 And sure enough, the shot were falling far short of the 
 fast receding boats. 
 
 Dan's words had tlie desired effect. Molly began to 
 watch the proceedings with interest. 
 
 " Take care dar, Charley," said she. " Doan pull so 
 hard on de rope ; yers chokin ole Bailey — kotch him by de 
 mane — dare now ! " 
 
 Dan was delighted at the proof of reviving spirits. 
 
 "He can help to row us across," said he, his white 
 teeth glistening in the dim light, and the old horse liter- 
 ally served as more than one horse-jDOwer to carry the 
 boat across. 
 
 At last the opposite shore was reached. Again the 
 party was mounted somewhat as before, and proceeded 
 toward camp. 
 
 At daylight they came in sight of a little structure. 
 Scarcely a house — but a shelter occupied temporarily by 
 some Indians, on Kansas soil, and Dan was informed 
 that he and his were now free and beyond the reach 
 of slavery. 
 
 "I think we had better stop here," said Clayton. 
 " We can get some coffee, perhaps, and, at all events, can 
 rest for a couple of hours." 
 
 "' Clare to goodness," said Moll}', " ef I ain't so stiff I 
 can't hardly move. You take baby, Dan. She's done 
 been mity quiet." 
 
 " Yes," said Dan, beaming with satisfaction ; " and it's 
 
266 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 mighty fortunate, IMolly, for she mighter given a sight er 
 t rubble by makin a fuss." 
 
 The father took the sleeping child and laid it down 
 carefully, then coming back for the rest. 
 
 " For goodness' sake ! Whar dis yere blood come 
 from ? " said he, looking in puzzled wonder at his hands 
 and then at his clothes. 
 
 "Must er come from some whar," said Molly, looking 
 about. All joined in the search but found nothing and 
 she stooped and picked up the baby. 
 
 "Now I tink yer don sleep enuf, honey, and you bes 
 have some brekfus." 
 
 She saw something on the wraps about the child which 
 hushed her crooning speech. She uncovered the little 
 face ; then giving a wild shriek, she let the baby fall from 
 her arms. The child was dead with a bullet hole through 
 the heart. 
 
 A little grave was dug in a sheltered corner, and as the 
 sun mounted up toward the zenith a band of sympathizers 
 slood about it. 
 
 " Radder all ub us died in slabery wid Mars Dickson 
 dan to hab dis lamb murdered," moaned the mother. 
 
 Dan's eyes were moist with tears, too; but he said: 
 " No, Molly ; don't say dat. How kin we tell what might 
 er come to dis chile ef she'd bin took off Souf long wid 
 Mars Dickson. De Lord he led us dis way, an we mussen 
 be ongrateful an grudge him dis lamb." 
 
 Dick's heart was nuich touched by the incident, and to 
 comfort Dan he told him during the afternoon on their 
 march to Lawrence about his own troubles — how wife 
 and child, too, were taken away, and how much easier it 
 would have been to have laid them both in the quiet earth 
 than to have suffered these years of uncertainty about 
 their fate. 
 
 " W/iat you say her name is ? Martha ? " 
 
 "Yes; Martha Stanley. Why, Dan, what makes you 
 look so ? " 
 
 " Well, I clare to goodness ! " said Dan. " I knows 
 her. Yes, sah. I knows her — an — I seen her, nigh about 
 six weeks ago." 
 
 Dick seized his friend by the shoulder. " Dan, for de 
 Lord's sake, you know where my wife is — tell me. Oh, 
 has the oood Lord " 
 
THE STORMY PETREL, 
 
 267 
 
 " Why, don go on like dat, man," said Dan. ''Jess be 
 still, an I'll tell yer, Yer see it's jess dis way," and he 
 crossed his legs and settled into a comfortable attitude, 
 " Her missus" — marking off on his fingers with delibera- 
 tion — " is sister to my missus. Mars Dickson's wife, an 
 last month — was it } No, I reckon 'twas month afore 
 lass. Miss Hall, she come up to see her sister, up to our 
 place, an brung along Martha for lady's maid, coz Martha 
 she mighty nice bout doin up hair an all dat ; so she 
 cum along too — an " 
 
 " Dan, for God's sake tell me, where is she.'' " 
 
 "Lor, how can /tell whar she is in dese times ! Dey 
 been fightin rite on her Missus' plantation nigh to In- 
 dependence an I spec thur ain't much fixin hair an sech 
 fine doins noiu, for Miss Hall, she done clare out may 
 be." 
 
 "Well, where do you suppose INIartha is .'' " 
 
 " / dunno," said Dan. She mout be took oiT down 
 Souf, an den agin she mouten." 
 
 There was not much comfort in all this, and yet Dick 
 felt that he had been nearer to her than at all ; in fact, 
 six weeks ago, she had been within ten miles of him. He 
 carried his strange news and his rekindled hopes to his 
 new master, Duvall, and, of course, to Lieutenant Clayton. 
 
 " Keep up your courage, Dick," said the latter. " We'll 
 find your wife and child ; keep a sharp lookout among 
 the refugees, and some day you'll see them safe and 
 happy." 
 
 Lieutenant Duvall, however, had his own plans about the 
 matter, but kept quiet as to the time and manner of put- 
 ting them into execution. 
 
CHAPTER LIV. 
 
 General Lane had received information at headquar- 
 ters in Fort Scott, Kansas, of the presence of a detachment 
 of Price's army in Bates Count}', Missouri, engaged in re- 
 cruiting and harassing the people. Colonels Montgomery 
 and Johnson were ordered, each with a detachment of 
 cavalry, to make a night march and surprise this camp at 
 early dawn on the following day. 
 
 At three a. m., on a cool, starlight night, the column 
 halted, and a group of officers held a consultation as to 
 the best mode of attack. It was decided to make this 
 simultaneously, at the faintest dawn of day, from two 
 opposite points, each under the command of its colonel. 
 
 As the men were separating. Colonel Johnson took 
 Clayton by the hand and said : 
 
 " I am sorry, Lieutenant Clayton, you are not going 
 with me, for old Kentucky's sake ; 1 would have been 
 glad of your support." 
 
 "Thanks, Colonel Johnson,"' answered Clayton; "I 
 should have been glad to go with you, but you saw Col- 
 onel Montgomery made it a point to have my command 
 with him." 
 
 "All right, Lieutenant, see that you do not arrive a day 
 after the feast and find the banquet-hall deserted." 
 
 " No fear of that," said Clayton. " I'm not apt to be 
 late in keeping such engagements." 
 
 He did not sleep at all that night but, with his com- 
 mand mounted, was waiting impatiently for the first gray 
 streaks of coming day, when there rung out on the still 
 morning air the report of a rifle, from the direction of the 
 enemy's camp. Then, another — and another — in quick 
 succession, until volley succeeded volley ; and Clayton 
 dashed forward with his company, under the spur, fol- 
 lowed by Colonel Montgomery and the rest of the com- 
 mand. 
 
 " By Heavens ! " said Clayton, " he has commenced 
 the attack before the dawn ! What does that mean ? " 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 269 
 
 Then, as he divined the ungenerous purpose to deprive 
 Colonel Montgomery's command from parlicipation in 
 the engagement, he had a key to Colonel Johnson's part- 
 ing injunction to be "not a day after the feast, " and he 
 said to himself, with a bitter smile, "Ah, Colonel, your 
 towering ambition to do alone, and claim for yourself the 
 honors intended for two, may prove a dangerous experi- 
 ment sooner or later." 
 
 When the first streaks of day shone on the eastern hori- 
 zon Clayton's troops went dashing down a ravine leading 
 to heavy timber to the southward, the point where Col- 
 onel Montgomery's command was to have been when the 
 attack opened, and just in time to intercept the enemy's 
 rear guard, or retreating rear of the enemy. A brief skir- 
 mish — the capture of a few prisoners — and a short pur- 
 suit of the main force into the timber, and Colonel Mont- 
 gomery's force returned to the enemy's abandoned camp, 
 held by Colonel Johnson's command. One of the first 
 objects Colonel Montgomery and Clayton saw, as thc\' 
 rode side by side, was the dead body of Colonel Johnson 
 lying where it fell, pierced by the enemy's bullets, as he 
 led the charge into the very heart of the enemy's camp. 
 
 " He was brave," said the colonel, looking at his dead 
 comrade, "brave, but rash." 
 
 "And ungenerous," was Clayton's unspoken thought. 
 
 Late in the afternoon of tiiis same day Clayton entered 
 his tent. Uuvalt was there awaiting him, having been on 
 the sick list and unable to accompany the expedition. 
 
 '■'•Man Dieu ! what is happen to you? You look like 
 you are ill." 
 
 " Dnvall, get me some brandy, please," said Clayton, 
 falling, rather than silting, on the chair near him. 
 
 His friend hastened to pour out a wineglass of spirits, 
 which Clayton drank without opening his eyes. 
 
 "Now, some color come in your face," said Duvall, 
 watching him. 
 
 Clayton opened his eyes and looked at his friend. 
 
 " Duvall, I have had a horrible duty to perform, and 
 have just come from reporting to General Lane. I should 
 resign, — yes, I know I should resign — if I thought 1 
 should ever again have to do such a thing. Sit down, 
 and I will try to tell you. As we were coming home — 
 and, by the way, you know Colonel Johnson was shot ? " 
 
270 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 Duvall nodded, and Clayton went on. "Well, just as 
 we started to return to Fort Scott our scouts brought in 
 nine prisoners. 
 
 " ' Clayton,' said Colonel Montgomery, turning to me, 
 ' I think these men will come under Fremont's order.' 
 
 " ' How is that, sir ? ' 1 answered. 
 
 " ' Why, his order to try guerrillas by drum-head court 
 martial, if found carrying arms.' 
 
 "'But, Colonel, these men declare that they are on de- 
 tached service from Price's command and are not guer- 
 rillas at all.' 
 
 " He turned upon me evidently annoyed, and said : 
 
 " ' That, sir, will be determined at the court martial I 
 shall convene at once.' 
 
 "Which was done, and held, then and there, as we sat in 
 our saddles. I was terribly excited, I confess, and per- 
 haps spoke more warmly than was my right. But, my 
 God ! there stood those nine men imploring — pleading — 
 declaring by all they held sacred that they were Confed- 
 erate soldiers. And, would you believe it, I was the only 
 one who befriended them. The decision was announced 
 and sentence passed in less time than I am taking to tell 
 you — to be executed as soon as the soldiers could dig a 
 trench to put the poor wretches in. My dear fellow," 
 turning to Claude, "I shall have to ask you to give me 
 some more brandy." After a moment he went on. 
 
 "Thinking I was their friend and their only hope, in 
 desperation they clung around me, with such harrowing 
 appeals — such faces — my God, shall I ever forget!" and 
 he covered his face as if to shut it out. 
 
 " The colonel saw this, and turning to me, he said 
 coolly : 
 
 "'Lieutenant Clayton, you will detail the firing part}^, 
 and see that the order of the court is executed at once.' 
 
 "Think of the malignancy of selecting me to execute 
 this order! And I believe he hoped I would disobey 
 him — and you know what that means in these times and 
 in the enemy's country. " I have long felt that man's se- 
 cret hostility to me. My God ! I believe I would have 
 sacrificed all hope of meeting the woman I love, in this 
 world or the next, to have saved those men who were 
 clinging in despair to my stirrups and bridle. But I tried 
 to remember I was a soldier, and not a man with a heart. 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 27I 
 
 "I said : ' j\[en, there is no hope. The order must be 
 carried out. Prepare yourselves to die bravely as you 
 can, lilce soldiers.' 
 
 "Then I rode away while the horrible preparations 
 were being made. 
 
 "When I returned, a half-hour later, they were calm. 
 Some had written words of farewell to their loved ones; 
 and I received tokens and keepsakes from their cold 
 trembling hands, with piteous appeals that they be sent, 
 and so they were, a few hours later, by a prisoner who 
 luckily escaped when no one was looking. 
 
 "At the command, all kneeled on the brink of that 
 long grave, and the fatal order was given by the sergeant 
 in charge of the firing party. All were shot, some dead ; 
 but not without a second volley, and with the use of the 
 sabre were the nine hearts stilled. I know not how, for 
 my eyes refused their office, and I only seemed to see a 
 great blank spread out before me. 
 
 "In less than two hours from the capture, nine men, 
 still warm in death, lay under the cold clods of earth on 
 the prairie, and the accursed work was done. And this 
 is the nineteenth century," added Clayton with bitterness. 
 
 "And I, with instincts of humanity almost morbidly 
 developed, — I have been the instrument of this horror. 
 My God ! War is more cruel to the living than to the 
 dead." 
 
CHAPTER LV. 
 
 The next morning as the two friends were at breakfast 
 the orderly brought the mail. There were two letters for 
 Clayton ; one from his cousin Kate, and another from 
 Petrel. The one from Kate was as follows : 
 
 " My DEAR Frank : 
 
 " Your letter is most welcome. I am glad that 
 this wretched war has served some good purpose 
 and that you are happier than when you visited us last 
 year, upon your return from California. My heart some- 
 times rebelliously asks : Why are these sufferings laid 
 upon us ? Why is life made so hard when it might be so 
 beautiful ? But you are brave and strong, and I am con- 
 fident, however thwarted in your wishes, will be able to 
 make it rich and abundant in fulfilment. 
 
 " I did not intend to speak of these things, having, in 
 fact, sat down to write you upon another and most agree- 
 able subject — that is, your little ward Petrel. I want your 
 consent to have her visit us during the coming holidays. 
 My little Katrine and she are, as you know, frequent cor- 
 res])ondents, and I am in love with the child without hav- 
 ing seen her. Her letters are enchanting — so brimming 
 with humor and delicate sense of everything her pen 
 touches. How did such a flower blossom within the walls 
 of a convent.'' And how does she know so much, having 
 seen so little .-' Katrine was inconsolable that she could 
 not make us the pormised visit last year ; so now, I want 
 you to promise tiiat she shall come to us when the roses 
 bloom. 
 
 " We are not a very gay household, with Bernard in the 
 army and all the terrors and uncertainties of this horrible 
 war. But Petrel will not miss the gayeties and I am sure 
 will be happy with us. She writes that she is engaged in 
 hospital work much of the time, with the good Sisters. 
 What an experience for such a child ! It has fired Ka- 
 trine with a desire to do something in that way herself ; but 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 273 
 
 she has to be content to make bandages and scrape lint 
 at home, which we all do, as you may imagine, to dress 
 the wounds made by your dreadful Federal bullets ! Ah, 
 my dear Frank, — to fight with natural enemies is bad 
 enough, but to have them of your own household ! Well, 
 you and I could not be arrayed against each other what- 
 ever happens, and you know how / felt about that wicked 
 secession ! 
 
 " Let me hear from you very soon that the dear child 
 may come to 
 
 " Your ever-loving cousin, 
 
 " Kate. " 
 
 " Incomparable, steadfast Kate ! " said Frank to him- 
 self as he folded the letter. " Yes, Petrel shall go to 
 her." 
 
 Then he broke the other seal, and read this : 
 
 " My dear Uncle Frank : 
 
 "I have had such a sweet letter from Katie's mamma. 
 How lovely she must be ! And why did /not have such 
 a mamma ? \\'hat it must be — but — no matter — no repin- 
 ings. Have I not the dearest of uncles ? And are not 
 the Sisters good as angels .'' Well, to return, Mrs. Fletcher 
 urges me to make the visit which my stupid illness 
 cheated me out of last year ; and if you say I may go — 
 why — I think I shall be happier — well — happier than any- 
 one has a right to be, with such a dreadful war going on, 
 and with pain and suffering and death all about us. But, 
 then, you know, dear Uncle, I have seen so little, and am 
 wondering, — wondering, — all the time about that bright, 
 strange world beyond these walls. And now, if you are 
 very good, and say I may go, I shall see — and I shall see 
 my friend Katrine, to whom I have been writing all 
 these years. 
 
 "Alas! 1 have s&tn something beyond these walls. 
 But, oh, it is so sad ! But do not object, dear Uncle, to 
 my going to the hospital with the Sisters ; it does me 
 good, I know it does, to realize what others suffer; then 
 my own little pains and repinings seem so foolish, I am 
 ashamed of them, 
 
 " I enclose a little sketch which I hope may please you. 
 I enjoyed doing it ; but not so much, I think, as my music. 
 
2 74 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 Ah, that is my chief joy ! And perhaps when I get out 
 into that distant world I may hear some of those wonder- 
 ful things played and sung that I sometimes read about in 
 the papers you send. 
 
 " Your fond and loving 
 
 " Petrel." 
 
 " What a child she is ! " said Clayton, laying down the 
 letter and taking the water-color sketch to examine. 
 
 " Duvall," said he, " what do you think of that ?" 
 
 Claude took it and looked critically at the paper. 
 
 "What do I think?" he said. " Why, I think that 
 is the work of a true artist. Look at that distance — at 
 that sky." 
 
 "Well, that is the work of Petrel, my ward," said Clay- 
 ton with pride. 
 
 " Eempossible ! Eempossible ! " said the enthusiastic 
 Claude. " Ah ! no ! You mistake — that ees not the work 
 of a child." 
 
 Clayton, smiled sadly. " She is getting beyond child- 
 hood, Duvall. I was astonished when I saw her last. 
 She is a woman, — a beautiful woman ; she is not more than 
 fifteen, but she looks two years older. It does not seem 
 possible," he said, musing, " that she is the little creat- 
 ure I held in my arms fourteen, yes, nearly fifteen, years 
 ago." 
 
 " Well, I am surprised, much surprised," said Claude, 
 still gazing at the sketch. " I have thought always about 
 this being a leettle child — comme fa, like zat" — and he 
 held up his hand to show how tall he had fancied her. 
 
 "And so she was when you and I first met ; but, my 
 dear fellow, as we have been knocking about the world 
 she has been growing — behind those convent walls. And 
 she is so clever in everything, so gifted," said Clayton, as 
 he strode to and fro in the tent, " that, I tell you, Duvall, 
 I feel the weight of the responsibility in guiding this 
 young creature." 
 
 " It vv^as well you place her iw that convent — so safe. 
 'Tis dreadful to see the young" girls in this countree — such 
 freedom — such dangers! Ah, you did well." 
 
 At that moment Dick, the most respectful and punctil- 
 ious of servants, burst into the tent without knocking, and 
 out of breath with excitement. 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 275 
 
 " Excuse me, Mars Frank and Mars Duvall, but she's 
 foun — Martha's foun. Dan, he's foun where Miss Hall 
 is livin — not more an about ten miles from here." 
 
 "Well, my good fellow, I am rejoiced. I'll arrange to 
 make a call upon that good lady and you may depend 
 upon our bringing your wife safely away." 
 
 The next morning an early start was made for the plan- 
 tation, with a force large enough to overcome any resist- 
 ance from Livingstone's Guerrillas, whom they learned 
 were in the vicinity of Independence, Missouri. Dan 
 acted as guide, and presently pointed out a large white 
 farmhouse as the object of their search. 
 
 Lieutenant Duvall was in charge of the expedition, and, 
 in the midst of the curiosity and excitement caused by the 
 arrival of the troops, ascended the steps of the porch, and 
 quietly asked to see " Mees Hall," his orderly standing 
 respectfully near him as he awaited the coming of the lady. 
 
 Presently Miss Hall appeared, flushed and with ill- 
 concealed nervousness. She did not ask him to enter, 
 but said, with an attempt at frigid composure : 
 
 " To what am I indebted for this visit ? " 
 
 Lieutenant Duvall, in his most deferential manner, told 
 her in his broken English that they had come to find a 
 colored woman named Martha Fletcher; that they under- 
 stood that she was there, and he desired to restore her to 
 her husband, from whom she had been stolen many years 
 before. 
 
 The shapely face, which w^ould, under some circum- 
 stances, have been wreathed with smiles of welcome for 
 this interesting foreigner, grew more and more frigid in its 
 lines as he went on. 
 
 "Then I am to understand you wish to purchase my 
 maid," she said, at last, " and that you have come with all 
 this military display to make me an offer for her." 
 
 " Certainement" said Claude, with a twinkle of amuse- 
 ment in his eyes, as he drew a Confederate note out of 
 his pocket, " if you will do me ze honor to accept a note 
 which I will copy after zat," pointing to the words, " to 
 be paid one year after the establishment of the Southern 
 Confederacy." 
 
 She turned scarlet, and then white with anger. " I do 
 not wish to part with my servants upon any terms," she 
 said, " and now, if you'll excuse me, I will " 
 
276 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 " Pardon, mademoiselle, I have a duty to perform, and 
 I hope I shall not be compelled to use ze force you see 
 here. But your servants have ze right now to go or to 
 stay. Eef Martha prefer to stay with you, madame, cer- 
 tainement she shall do so. I wish to see her, and we will 
 ask her what she will do." 
 
 " Your insolence is as great as your cruelty," said the 
 exasperated woman. " How dare you come into my 
 house and demand my servants .'' Have I not suffered 
 enough already from — " And here she broke down with 
 hysterical weeping. 
 
 Of course, there had been plenty of witnesses of this 
 scene, all the servants hovering curiously and furtively 
 about the porch. 
 
 Dick, according to the lieutenant's instructions, was 
 just outside the grounds with the soldiers. Suddenly 
 there was a cry and a wild rush from the house. A 
 woman was seen flying, with the speed of a bird, toward 
 Dick, and in another moment they were locked in each 
 other's arms. 
 
 Miss Hall's sobs were arrested, and she sprang to her 
 feet as she saw the flying woman, crying, " Come back, 
 come back, Martha, this instant ! " 
 
 " I tink, madame, my question ees answered. Ze maid 
 will go back wiz her husband." Then turning to his 
 orderly, he said : " Tell the men to bring over the trunk 
 that you report found in the barn." 
 
 With an hysterical scream. Miss Hall came rapidly 
 toward him. " Would you rob me before my face .'' " 
 
 In the blandest way Duvall explained that her silver 
 would, not feed or clothe his soldiers, and instead of aid- 
 ing would demoralize their cause ; and, advising her not 
 to risk such valuables by keeping them hidden in the 
 barn, had the trunk safely deposited in the house, and 
 then, with respectful courtesy, withdrew, and, a few hours 
 later, was giving Clayton a humorous account of his in- 
 terview with " Mees " Hall. 
 
 The grave, olive-skinned woman, with sad, serious 
 eyes, Dick led in by the hand, was not the Martha he re- 
 membered ; still, there was enough remaining of the old 
 look to assure Wm it was indeed she, — the poor girl, who, 
 like Hagar, went off with her child, and then disappeared 
 as utterly as if the earth had swallowed her. 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 277 
 
 " And your baby, Martha ? " said Clayton. " Where is 
 she ? Is she living ? " 
 
 "Oh, Mars Frank, I don't know, but my belief is she 
 was drowned in the river of ice by that cruel man who 
 got us away from Mars Harry Barnes." 
 
 Frank's face turned ashy pale as she said these few 
 words, which connected the two mysteries by this missing 
 link — Martha's disappearance and the finding of Petrel. 
 So simple, and yet he had never thought of it before ! 
 But what a solution ! My God, what is to be done ? 
 These were the thoughts that sped swiftly through Clay- 
 ton's mind. 
 
 He soon kindly dismissed Dick and Martha on the 
 plea of urgent business, telling her he wished to see her 
 again in the morning. Then he took counsel with him- 
 self, as he paced the floor. What must he do? Go to 
 that sensitive child and tell her she was the daughter of a 
 slave? Tell her that the mother for whom she had 
 so longed had been found, and she is none other than this 
 humble, faithful daughter of a despised race ? He could 
 not do it. And yet what right had he to deprive this 
 mother of her child ? For hours he thought, and at last 
 came to this determination : He would tell Martha all, 
 and let her decide. 
 
 His eye fell upon Kate's letter, still lying on his desk. 
 " Of course, she must not go there ; that is out of the 
 question now. Well," he thought, " it need not be an- 
 swered at once, and, in the meantime, I can frame ex- 
 cuses for not allowing the child to make the proposed 
 visit." 
 
CHAPTER LVI. 
 
 It was with a heavy heart that he sent for Martha the 
 next clay. He had a strange and dehcate task before 
 him, and how should he perform it ? 
 
 " Now, Martha," he said, when she came, " I want you 
 to sit down there and tell me just how you lost your little 
 girl ; I hadn't lime yesterday to ask all I wanted to know 
 about it." 
 
 She sat down obediently on a camp stool he pointed to, 
 and began, in a soft, musical, contralto voice. 
 
 Clayton sat, his eyes fixed immovably upon her face, as 
 she told the story. Every incident of the scene was pre- 
 cisely as he witnessed it that winter morning fifteen years 
 ago. There was no room for doubt ; she was the mother 
 of his ward. 
 
 " Martha," he said, " you must prepare yourself for a 
 surprise. Your little girl was not drowned; she came 
 safe into my arms when that brute tossed her away." 
 
 Martha was at his feet, the tears streaming down her 
 face. " Oh, my God ! At last ! At last ! " 
 
 Clayton took away the hand she was kissing and raised 
 her. 
 
 "Sit there," he said, "and when you are ready I will 
 tell you the rest ; there is much more to be said when you 
 can hear it." 
 
 She did as she was told, and fixed her eyes eagerly 
 upon him as he went on. 
 
 " She has been, since she was six years old, in a con- 
 vent in Kansas, where she has received an education ; 
 has studied music and painting; so she is now no longer 
 a child, but a beautiful and accomplished young girl, fitted 
 for the highest station in life." 
 
 A pained, bewildered expression began to mingle with 
 the joy which had a moment ago illumined the melancholy 
 face. 
 
 " Of course she will cling to you and love you for, her 
 heart is of gold ; but, I tell you frankly, Martha, it will 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 279 
 
 make a great change in her future when she learns that the 
 blood of a slave is in her veins." 
 
 Martha gazed now with a pitiful intensity at the speaker ; 
 tears unwiped rolling down her face. 
 
 " Now, my poor girl," he went on, " I have told you the 
 truth. I place your child in your hands to do with her 
 as you think best ; I have no right to influence or to ad- 
 vise." 
 
 " Mars Frank," said she, in a low voice, " she never 
 must know it. Why should /come into her life to spoil 
 it, after the Lord has done so much for her — and for me ? 
 If I can Jtrher sometimes," she said, looking at him tim- 
 idly, as if, perhaps, she were asking too much, "if I might 
 see her ! " 
 
 Clayton felt touched by the divine patience of this 
 woman and grasped her by the hand, 
 
 "You are an heroic woman, Martha. See her? Yes, 
 you shall see her, and you shall live with her. Now, I 
 will tell you what I have been thinking. Petrel needs a 
 maid, and will always need one, being so alone ; you shall 
 occupy that position. Would you like that ? " 
 
 "Oh, Mars Frank, how can you ask me ? Wouldn't it 
 be like Heaven to me ? " 
 
 And so it was arranged that he would at once write 
 Petrel that Martha, Dick's wife, had been found, and was 
 going to be in the future her maid, or, if need be, nurse. 
 "And then next week I will take you there myself," he 
 said. 
 
 Dick was not forgotten in this arrangement. Clayton 
 promised that some occupation should be found for him 
 too in the vicinity of his wife. 
 
 Frank Clayton procured the necessary leave of ab- 
 sence, and arrived, with Martha, late one evening at the 
 Mission. 
 
 He thought it best to see Petrel at first alone and pre- 
 pare the way for the meeting between the two. She re- 
 ceived him with the usual enthusiastic greeting. 
 
 "What a dear, darling uncle you are, to think of giving 
 me a maid ! Do you know, I think I must be a wonder- 
 fully good person not to be spoiled by so much petting," 
 and she gave him the prettiest little mouth to kiss ; and 
 then when he answered " And so you are," such a gay 
 little laugh rang through the room, and she said : " That 
 
28o THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 shows how little you know about me. Why, I suppose 
 I'm the naughtiest — you ought to see me one of those 
 days when I have what Sister Agatha calls my ' tafi- 
 trums.' Oh, by the way, of course I am going to Lucas- 
 ton — though you did not say so, you bad uncle ! " 
 
 " Time enough, my dear child ; we cannot settle every- 
 thing in one half-hour." 
 
 " Uncle," said she, confidentially, " I want to tell you 
 something, of an experience in dreams. Do you know 
 there is a very strange dream which comes to me at inter- 
 vals, and always just before something happens." 
 
 " Naturally," said Clayton, " as something happens 
 about every " 
 
 "Now, clon't be scornful and unbelieving, or I'll not tell 
 you ; and it's very interesting." 
 
 " Well, go on," said he, with an amused laugh. 
 
 " The dream is always the same. There is a river full 
 great cakes of ice — and noise and confusion — and I'm 
 afraid — I do not know of what — and a face so loving and 
 tender looks into mine, and I feel safe in a moment." 
 
 Frank listened speechless with surprise. 
 
 " Well," said he, " what do you think of it?" 
 
 " I think — it is very strange," said he, "but — now, don't 
 you want to see your new maid ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, indeed I do." 
 
 A moment later he returned with Martha. 
 
 Petrel uttered a little scream. 
 
 "Why, Uncle," said she, trembling, and holding tightly 
 his hand, " it is the face in my dream ? " 
 
 " Nonsense, child," said he, drawing her toward the 
 woman, who was standing as if petrified, gazing at the 
 beautiful young girl. 
 
 "Martha," said he, "this is the young lady you are 
 going to take care of; see that you keep her safe and 
 happy." 
 
 Petrel took her hand kindly in her own, as she said 
 shyly, " I am so glad you have come, Martha, and so 
 glad they have found you after all these years. And you 
 never found your little girl?" 
 
 Martha could only shake her head in reply. 
 
 " Well, no matter," said Petrel soothingly, stroking her 
 hair; "you mustn't feel unhappy any more, for /am your 
 little girl now," 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 "Oh ! thank you thank you, for saying those words !" 
 said Martha, and she clasped lovingly the hand she pas- 
 sionately kissed. 
 
CHAPTER LVII. 
 
 The following morning Petrel went with her uncle to 
 the hospital. " I spend two hours there every morning," 
 she said, as they were on the way. " Sister Agatha goes 
 with me, and I have learned to do so many things ; I 
 assure you, Uncle, I am quite a good nurse. I do not go 
 into the very sick wards, you know; Sister Agatha will 
 not permit that." 
 
 " Well, how do you like your new maid ? " asked Clayton, 
 
 " Uncle, she is perfectly lovely. This morning when 
 she came in to awaken me, she opened the blinds and the 
 sun streamed in upon her, and she looked so happy, why 
 she was really beautiful. And do you know what I did ? 
 I jumped out of bed and ran and put my arms about her 
 and kissed her. I couldn't help it, 
 
 " You know," she went on, " her little girl would have 
 been just my age, and I suppose that is why she felt so 
 yesterday when she saw me ; but I am going to make 
 her so contented she will forget all her sorrows. You 
 don't know how startled I was by her resemblance to 
 the face in my dream. Of course, as you say, it was only 
 a fancy. 
 
 " Here we are," concluded she. " How short the walk 
 has been ! " 
 
 One of the surgeons was coming out of the gate. 
 Clayton stopped and introduced himself, asking him about 
 the patients, to which commands they belonged, etc. 
 
 " Most of them are doing very well," said he, " but a 
 Confederate officer was brought in last evening, very 
 badly wounded, and he died in the night. He was 
 brought with other wounded soldiers from the battle near 
 Si. Joe two days ago." 
 
 " Do you know who it was ? " asked Clayton, 
 
 "No," answered the doctor; "I did not learn his 
 name. 
 
 They passed in. Petrel with a feeling of awe at being so 
 close to death, never having been in that awful presence, 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 2«3 
 
 "You stay here, my dear," said he, placing her with 
 one of the Sisters, *• and I'll go and inquire about this 
 Confederate officer." 
 
 The sheet was withdrawn to show him the dead man's 
 face, when he uttered an exclamation of horror. 
 
 " My God ! It's Bernard Fletcher! " 
 
 After some time he returned to Petrel. 
 
 " Uncle, what has happened .-' You are pale." 
 
 " Yes, my darling, I have had a shock. Petrel, the 
 officer who died last night is Colonel Fletcher — your little 
 friend Katrine's papa." 
 
 Petrel burst into sobs and tears, exclaiming : 
 
 "Oh, my poor Katie ! What will she do I and how will 
 dear Mrs. Fletcher ever bear it ! " 
 
 "Uncle," said slie, after she grew calmer, "may I not 
 see him ? Please let me ? " 
 
 Frank Clayton looked at the child strangely as she 
 asked this question ; he seemed to be debating with him- 
 self what he should do. At last he said : 
 
 "Yes, you may see him : come with me." 
 
 Petrel trembled as the handsome, stern face was 
 uncovered, and her eyes were held with a mysterious 
 fascination. She was thinking unutterable things — of 
 Katrine's grief when she should look upon that man who 
 looked so like a dead prince ; she was thinking how she 
 should feel if she were looking upon her dead father ! 
 
 "Come away," said Clayton, taking her hand. 
 
 " One moment," said the girl, and loosening a white 
 rosebud from her breast, she placed it in the dead hand, 
 and turned away weeping. 
 
 " My dear child," he said, " we must go right back to 
 the Mission. Of course I must go with the remains of 
 Colonel Fletcher to Lucaston and break the news to his 
 family." And they returned in silence. 
 
 Clayton asked to see Martha alone, to give her some 
 parting instructions about her duties. 
 
 " Martha," he said, closing the door, " a very strange 
 thing has happened. Colonel Bernard Fletcher died last 
 night at the hospital. We have just seen him." 
 
 " My God ! " said the woman, clasping her hands, as a 
 deadly pallor spread over her face, but with a strange, 
 hard look in those dry eyes. "Did she see him, sir.?" 
 asked she, in a low voice, significantly. 
 
284 1'HE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 " Yes," answered Clayton ; " he did not deserve it, but 
 I thought perhaps it was as well ; and she placed a white 
 rosebud in his hand. Now, I must go with the remains 
 to Lucaston ; and, Martha, take care of — your charge. 
 She is much overcome by what she has seen and by her 
 sympathy for her friends ; so watch her carefully." 
 
 " Ah ! Mars Frank, the Lord seemed so cruel for so 
 long — and now, how good, how jusf He is ! " 
 
 Frank's unspoken answer was, " Yes; 'the mills of the 
 gods grind slowly, but grind exceeding fine.' '■* 
 
chaptf:r lviii. 
 
 Throughout all the exciting incidents just related, 
 Frank Clayton never for one moment forgot his own 
 deep unhealed wound. As he consoled Kate and her 
 daughter over the open grave of Bernard Fletcher, he 
 saw always before him that grave wherein he had buried 
 the dearest hope in his own life. " Flowers will blossom 
 upon this," he said to himself, as he looked at the fresh 
 clods of earth, "but upon that other — never." He 
 should never love again, nor ever cease to love Isabel 
 Priest. 
 
 His gentle cousin Kate had her own unhealed wound, 
 as he well knew; she had buried her ideal fifteen years 
 ago, and had ever since been trying to adapt herself to 
 the real. She had never loved her husband as much 
 since that fatal discovery as novi^, when she looked upon 
 him as Petrel had seen him at the hospital, clothed in 
 the silent beauty and majesty of death; and for the first 
 time from her heart gave him a kiss of forgiveness and 
 peace. 
 
 When this sad task was over, Frank returned to his 
 duties. He dreaded the opportunity to think — to dream 
 over the letters which came from Roland, trying to read 
 between the lines more than was said of his beloved. Ah ! 
 how many times in the silent night did he live over those 
 last interviews — recall the sound of her voice when she 
 uttered the words for which his soul had been thirsting ! 
 And when he realized it was to be nevermore, he would 
 dress, go out under the stars and strive to become 
 patient and calm. 
 
 He often thought how easy it would have been to say 
 the words which would have removed all obstacles. 
 They were simple to utter; thousands repeated them 
 every day and Sunday too without thinking, or much 
 caring, what they mean. Why should he be so scrupu- 
 lous ? But that was a price he could not pay, even to win her. 
 He could not perjure himself by seeming to acquiesce 
 in humanly constructed dogmas. Not even for the bliss 
 
286 THE STORMY PETREL 
 
 of possessing the woman he adored could he pretend to 
 comprehend the mysteries of the Great Creator, The One 
 First Cause, nor yet the full measure of the Law of Laws. 
 How could he claim to know the plans and designs of 
 the Supreme Being regarding the human race ? He, a 
 mere atom in an ocean of mist and mystery — should he 
 say what are the attributes of the Mighty Unknown ? 
 Should he attempt to define its limits and its nature, 
 whether it be three in one, or one in three, or in fact say 
 whether it exist separate and apart from its work at all? 
 Others might do this if they could ; but for him, he 
 must, at any cost, be faithful to his own convictions — be 
 they beliefs, or unbeliefs. 
 
 He longed for action, something more stirring than 
 being upon the outskirts of a great conflict; and cS. few 
 months later received the orders for which he had asked 
 and hoped. An active campaign was laid out for the 
 army corps to which he was attached, and he was trans- 
 ferred to the command of a regiment of colored troops 
 which he had been chiefly instrumental in creating, the 
 Government having at last seen the wisdom of this once 
 unpopular measure. This separated him from Duvall, 
 which was a source of regret to both. 
 
 In that last private interview with Isabel, just before 
 leaving " Eagle's Nest," Frank had received from her a 
 little packet, covered with chamois-leather, and attached 
 to a fine gold chain. This she placed about his neck, 
 exacting from him a solemn promise never to remove nor 
 to open it. "It is an amulet," she had said, smiling 
 through her tears, " and its charm will be lost if you 
 understand it." Much as he longed to know its contents, 
 Frank would not for the world have broken his pledge to 
 keep it inviolate. He would have ample need of its pro- 
 tecting power now ; and it was with a feeling of exultation 
 that he found himself in one of the fiercest centres of the 
 desperate conflict. 
 
 " Now," he said, " now I have an opportunity to do, 
 and, perhaps, to die ! " 
 
 Kissing the amulet, he added : 
 
 " You can do nothing better for me than that, my little 
 friend ; only let my life accomplish something for my 
 country first — then — adieu, green fields and sunshine and 
 elusive joys, forever ! " 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 287 
 
 The fact that the Confederates showed no mercy to the 
 negro soldiers or their officers, made this arm of the 
 service a desperate one ; and this had strongly influenced 
 Clayton in attaching himself to it. There were no 
 branching roads ahead, leading to prison or hospital — 
 only one highway, which led to Victory — or Death. 
 
CHAPTER LIX. 
 
 "Fort Leavenworth Hospital, Dec. 20, 186-. 
 
 " My Dear Uncle: — 
 
 "Your letter, with kind permission for me to come 
 here witii Sister Agatha, was received, and so — here I am 
 — in the dress of a novitiate, with partial charge of a 
 ward. I like it so much better than the desultory work I 
 did at home, although the experience obtained there is 
 most valuable now. 
 
 "Who do you think was brought here this morning? 
 Your friend. Lieutenant Duvall ; and, strangely enough, he 
 was placed in our ward. He is seriously, though not 
 dangerously, wounded, and was in a half-unconscious 
 state all day. You may imagine with what interest I 
 regarded him, knowing how great was your friendship for 
 him. I will keep this letter open and add anything which 
 there may be to tell you concerning him. 
 
 " My dear, faithful Martha has rooms near the hospital, 
 and watches me as if /were a patient, doing a thousand 
 things for my comfort. She is certainly an angel! She 
 brings a basket of flowers every morning, which I place 
 where they will gladden the eyes of my poor patients. 
 But do not suppose this is all I do; I really, in my poor 
 way, am useful. Oh ! my dear Uncle, it is solenni and 
 awful to be near so much suffering. I know it makes my 
 soul grow and expand, and I thank God for giving me 
 this experience. I might not in years have learned, as I 
 now have, all the bitterness and sorrow which life holds 
 for some. 
 
 " There is a Confederate officer here, who, I think, will 
 die, and he will scarcely let me be out of his sight. He 
 is a foreigner — a Captain De Montholon — and he says I 
 remind him of his daughter Flora. He has had some 
 terrible trouble in his life, and when he fixes his great sad 
 eyes upon me it fills me with such pity and such longing 
 to comfort him ; and yet I know not what to do, and can 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 289 
 
 only make his pillow easier and brighten him with flowers 
 and sunshine. But what is that to a sick soul? I think 
 if he could talk of his trouble and of those he loves, that 
 would be better than all the doctor's medicines. I shall 
 try to lead him to do this. 
 
 " Dec. 22nd — Lieutenant Duvall is better, but extremely 
 weak; his right arm is broken and he is otherwise 
 severely injured, but is very patient, and the doctor thinks 
 will do well unless fever sets in. He will talk, and that 
 is bad for him. When he found out my name — well, you 
 should have seen him ! He knew at once I must be 
 your little girl, of whom he had heard so much, and woukl 
 have asked fifty questions if I had let him ; but I am very 
 strict, and as he cannot help himself, he has to be 
 good. 
 
 " Captain De Montholon is ver)^, very ill ; he is delirious 
 at night and talks of Italy — of Flora — and of Claudius, his 
 son — and of some one he calls Orsyna, or something like 
 that; he speaks in half-Italian and half-English, so I 
 cannot make out anything connected ; but I know it is 
 grief — terrible regret at something in his past which is 
 eating away his life more than his wounds. Whether he 
 has suffered wrong, or, what is worse yet, committed it, 
 God only knows. 
 
 "I will send this without anything further now, but will 
 write in a day or two again, knowing how anxious you 
 will be about your friend. Lieutenant Duvall. 
 
 " Most lovingly, 
 
 " Petrel." 
 
 The second day after Claude was admitted to the hos- 
 pital he awoke from a long, refreshing sleep, just as the 
 sun was setting, and its slanting rays gilded in burnished 
 gold every article in his room ; the plain pine table, with 
 cups and spoons, the chair, the hospital cot on which he 
 lay, with its coarse, strong and white covering, all swam 
 in the liquid golden light that literally flooded the room, 
 which by some mysterious process seemed to multiply and 
 beautify all things as he, with only partially opened eyes, 
 looked down the long row of cots with their burdens of 
 patient sufferers. In this almost ecstatic state, he let his 
 mind drift backward, to a point sufficiently distinct and 
 tangible on memory's tablet to form a starling-place from 
 
290 THE STORMY PETREL, 
 
 which he could take reckoning and determine his pres- 
 ent whereabouts — whether in the body or out of the body, 
 he could not tell. Certainl}' nothing in the flesh had ever 
 seemed to him as lovely as that fair creature who softly 
 passed and repassed before his bewildered vision. Some- 
 times it seemed as if she were Flora, his sister, and 
 again some fairy, he knew not who. Then his mind 
 drifted back to his home ; he saw his mother, as she took 
 him in her arms that morning long ago and told him that 
 his father had gone ; that in a quarrel with his best friend 
 he had been dashed by a storm of passion upon the fatal 
 reefs of what he believed to be a deadly duel, and had fled 
 to America, taking with him money which he held in trust 
 for another. He saw his mother's uplifted eyes as she de- 
 clared before God she believed his father was innocent of 
 intended wrong in betraying the trust ; he heard her voice 
 trembling with feeling as she said : "You must find your 
 father, my boy. God knows I can ill spare you now, but 
 you must go and bring him back to us ; tell him my own 
 fortune shall go to pay the money. I give it willingly. 
 What is that to give if it will bring him back! Tell him 
 all will be forgotten, if he will only come!'" Then swiftly 
 his mind sped upon the long search. From New York to 
 San Francisco, thence to St. Paul and back to St. Louis, 
 where he met Clayton ; and, almost despairing of suc- 
 cess, how he lingered for months enjoying this friendship 
 with the man he came to love as a brother. Their expe- 
 rience in Kansas drifted before him ; their acquaintance 
 with Brown, and finally that awful day at Harper's Ferry ! 
 Then he saw the old man's prophecy fulfilled ; the 
 country in arms, his own enrollment, and, at last, the 
 fight with the guerillas at Baxter's Springs, led by that 
 ill-omened Livingstone; he saw the ghastly forms of 
 dusky men falling thick and fast about him, towering 
 above which was Daniel Dickson, as he last beheld him, 
 with the barrel of his broken musket in the left hand, 
 and the right clutching a great gleaming sabre bayonet, 
 as he cut right and left, front and rear ; and then saw 
 him, with an awful lunge, bury it to the hilt in the chest 
 of his adversary, and the world seemed to fade and fall 
 on him, bringing with it Dan and his victim. 
 
 Then, as in a dream, his mind took hold of the slender 
 thread of events that brought partial recovery at Baxter's 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 291 
 
 Springs, the rough ride to Fort Scott, and the ahriost 
 blank journey to Fort Leavenworth. 
 
 This strange, kaleidoscopic or panoramic glance back- 
 ward brought a sigh, as he turned to look for a presence 
 which he felt, more than heard, near him. His eyes 
 opened wide to take in the lovely face that bent over his 
 pillow with an anxious, inquiring gaze. Looking into 
 the soft, amber eyes filled with tender solicitude, he tried 
 to speak, and his tongue refused its office, as he wondered 
 if she were angel or mortal. Then he reached out to 
 touch or test this phantom, and the effort cost a twinge of 
 pain, as the right arm fell back helpless by his side ; and 
 Petrel said gently, placing her hand on the disabled one 
 of her patient : 
 
 " You must be very quiet ; such are the surgeon's 
 instructions." 
 
 " Then you are mortal, like myself ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes," said she, smiling ; " we are all mortals here." 
 
 " I thought perhaps I was in Paradise, and that you — " 
 
 Two fingers of a fair, soft hand were placed on his 
 lips, and an effort at a frown failed on the face, as the 
 snowy folds of the Sister's bonnet fringing it shook men- 
 acingly — commanding silence. 
 
 The patient submitted to the gentle authority and 
 waited and watched, with a faint smile, as, wiiliout speak- 
 ing, she brought him his medicine and gently raised his 
 pillow. His eyes followed her as she set down the glass 
 and spoon and arranged the little tray on the table, then 
 quietly sat down by his cot. 
 
 " May I ask just w/f question — who it is who takes such 
 care of me ? " 
 
 A shake of the white crest and a threatening finger 
 raised was the only response. 
 
 Claude felt powerless before this lovely impersonation 
 of tyranny, and was content quietly to watch and return 
 to the occupation of arranging his confused thoughts; 
 and as he was striving to separate the real from the fan- 
 tastic, fell asleep. 
 
 Upon awakening an hour later, he looked about for 
 the fair face, and it was gone. Another, in the same 
 garb, was there. 
 
 " Where is she ? " he said, impulsively. 
 
 " Who ? " asked the good Sister. 
 
292 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 Then, realizing his maladroitness, he said, in some con- 
 fusion : 
 
 " Oh, it is nothing ; I have been dreaming." 
 
 And so he had. 
 
 He had not long to wait ; he saw the dream face coming 
 toward him through the long avenue of cots, and half-closed 
 his eyes, feigning sleep. She poured out his medicine 
 and approached him, then paused. He opened his eyes. 
 
 "Oil," said she, "I am afraid I awoke you. Sister 
 Agatha said you were already awake." 
 
 " And so I was," said he, and obediently took the 
 medicine. 
 
 " Thanks, Ganymede," said he, smiling, " If you will 
 not tell me your real name, I must invent one." 
 
 The prettiest rose-tint crept up into the olive, under her 
 white hood, as she said : 
 
 " And if I should tell my name you will ask other ques- 
 tions and make yourself worse, and I shall be scolded by 
 the surgeon." 
 
 " No, on my honor," said he. " I will ask no more ques- 
 tions." 
 
 "Why can't you call me 'Sister'? That is quite 
 enough I " 
 
 " But there are so many Sisters," interposed the patient. 
 
 " Well, then, call me Sister Petrel," she said, smiling. 
 
 A look of utter amazement swept over the sick man's 
 face, as he repeated after her : 
 
 " Petrel ! Ciel ! Then you are • " 
 
 " Ah ! take care — your word of honor ! " 
 
 "Well, it is not a question; I said I would ask no ques- 
 tions. There is no need ; you are my friend's ward and 
 niece ! Mon Dicu, may I tell you ? " 
 
 " Nothing," said the little nurse ; "absolutely you shall 
 tell me nothing; you have said quite too much now." 
 And, indeed, there were two ominously bright spots in the 
 patient's cheeks as, with eyes wide open with wonder, he 
 watched her profile intently ; then closing them almost 
 wearily, thought " How beautiful ! How beautiful she 
 is I " and thinking thus, fell asleep again. 
 
 It was not until the next morning was well advanced 
 that he saw her graceful, lithe form coming down the vista 
 of little beds. His face and eyes must have given sign of 
 the oladness of heart he felt. 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 293 
 
 " How much better you are ! " she said, looking at him 
 brightly. 
 
 " Oh, yes," he said, with a show of determination ; " the 
 doctor say I may talk some now." 
 
 Petrel laughed at the little foreign-English speech with 
 which he asserted his independence. 
 
 " Do you know what I was thinking as you came to me 
 in the sunshine just now ? Well, I was thinking many 
 things, but one is that you look just like my sister, my 
 dear sister." 
 
 "Well, how many people do I look like, I wonder?" 
 said she, with a blush and a merry laugh. " Poor Cap- 
 tain De Montholon says I am just like his daughter." 
 
 As she said this Duvall's face suddenly changed and 
 became very pale. 
 
 " Who did you say ? " asked he, trembling in strange 
 agitation. 
 
 "Captain De Montholon ; that poor Confederate officer 
 who is so ill," answered Petrel. " Oh, I am doing very 
 wrong," said she, clasping her hands in real distress ; 
 " you must not talk any more. Here, let me give you a 
 sip of this water ; it has just a spoonful of brandy in it, 
 and you look so tired.'" 
 
 And he was very tired, as he closed his eyes and sank 
 back on his pillow ; it seemed that earth with all its hopes 
 and its joys receded. He felt as if he were near the goal 
 toward which he had been long and wearily pressing — 
 could almost touch it — and yet now had not the strength 
 to grasp it. His thoughts grew confused again, and it was 
 some time before he could arrange ihem and remember 
 when and how that long-silent name had come to him. 
 Had he dreamed it, or did some one say he was here 1 
 At last the mists cleared away ; he was in the hospital. 
 Petrel, Clayton's lovely niece, was his angel ministrant. • 
 She had said that Captain De Montholon was a wounded 
 Confederate officer in the same ward with himself ; he had 
 it all firm and sure now. 
 
 De Montholon was his father's mother's name and one 
 it was often his fancy to assume in the gay, careless, old 
 life at home. A deep conviction grew in Claude's mind 
 that his search was to come to an end here ; and he 
 waited feverishly for the dawn, 
 
CHAPTER LX. 
 
 "Fort Leavenworth Hospital, Dec. 28, 1S6-. 
 
 " My Dear Uncle : — 
 
 " How can I tell you the stran_2,e things that have 
 happened since I wrote \ou hist ? Where shall I begin ? 
 You know I told you there was a Confederate officer 
 here who seemed very fond of me because I looked like 
 his little daughter at home. Well, when Lieutenant Du- 
 vall began to get better so that he could talk a little, I 
 spoke about this Captain De Montholon one day, and 
 when he heard the name I thought he was going to faint 
 away, and I laid awake all night, fearing my imprudence 
 would bring on fever. And as I lay thinking, my mind 
 began to piece together little stray bits here and there. 
 I wondered why Lieutenant Duvall was so moved ; then 
 I thought of their both being from Italy, and I remem- 
 bered that Captain De Montholon's son was called Clau- 
 dius, and something seemed to whisper to me ' You can 
 serve him ; don't delay or it will be too late.' Over and 
 over again those words sounded in my ear, so that I could 
 scarcely wait for the morning: and my dear Martha 
 thought I must be ill because I got up and sat by the 
 window watching the east. She said : ' My dear child, 
 you will kill yourself with this work; it is too much for a 
 delicate girl.' I could not tell her why I was restless 
 nor why I was so impatient for the day, for I had not 
 made up my mind what I should do when it came. I fell 
 asleep just before day, and it was nine o'clock when I 
 was awakened by Martha, bringing me a cup of coffee. 
 You may think how sorry I was to find I had lost two 
 precious hours ; and as soon as I could I hastened to the 
 hospital. 
 
 "I found Captain De Montholon had been given up by 
 the surgeons, and Father Walter had already been there 
 to administer the Holy Sacrament. He had told the 
 surgeon he wanted to see me ; so I went to him at once, 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 295 
 
 my heart beating and praying the dear Virgin to help me 
 to do what was wise and right. 
 
 " He looked, oh ! so ill. 
 
 " ' My child,' he said, ' it is most over. You are not 
 afraid, are you, to sit down by a dying man ? ' 
 
 "'Oh, do not say that,' I said. ' You will not die.' 
 
 "'Yes,' he answered; 'they have told me, and I am 
 not sorry; I am a desolate old man, and it is better so. 
 Life can hold nothing more for me ; but I want you to do 
 me one more service, and this is the last I shall ask. 
 Get pen and paper. Can you write Italian ? No, I sup- 
 pose not. Well,' with a sigh, ' then it must be in Eng- 
 lish.' And at his dictation I wrote the following : 
 
 " ' My Adored Wife : 
 
 " ' I am about to die, and at such times men speak the 
 truth. I did not intend any wrong in bringing away those 
 securities. In the horror and despair at finding I had 
 slain my friend. Count Orsyni, I fled. When far out at 
 sea, I discovered that I had brought the papers away 
 with me, and I realized that I would rest under the awful 
 suspicion of having betrayed this trust. Oh, the horror 
 of that voyage ! My hand red with the blood of my 
 friend 1 My name tarnished with the suspicion of dis- 
 honor ! I thought of you, my adored wife — of my children, 
 my son — and I would have killed myself but for my de- 
 sire to reach land and send back those accursed papers. 
 
 "'This, as you know, I did, through my solicitor at Na- 
 ples, with full explanation. Then I waited. I thought 
 you would write ; but you did not — communicating with 
 me only through my solicitor. Perhaps you were right — 
 but, ah I it was bitter — to know that I was not forgiven 
 for the stain I had brought upon our untarnished name ! 
 
 " ' Then the years of torment which followed, thinking of 
 the ruin I had wrought, not only in my own home, but 
 that of my murdered friend ; that /, the petted child of 
 fortune, was an outcast, a price upon my head if I re- 
 turned, and my son ashamed of the name he bears ! Do 
 you wonder that I grew old before my time ? tliat my 
 hair whitened ? But I toiled, and was not unsuccessful. 
 I leave an ample fortune, which is to be divided between 
 you and my children. Mr. Wickliffe, of Louisville, Ken- 
 tucky, is my solicitor and has all the needful papers. 
 
296 THE STORMY PETREL, 
 
 Communicate with him. I have suffered enough to 
 expiate the wrong I have clone. Think of me kindly, if 
 you can, my adored Giuletta, and try to make my children 
 feel I was not entirely bad, though the most unfortunate 
 of men. 
 
 " ' Adieu, my beloved. It is hard to die solitary and un- 
 wept. But God wills it ; so it is right.' 
 
 " When 1 had finished this he asked me to read it to 
 him. I do not know how I did it, my eyes so filled with 
 tears and my voice choked with sobs ; but when I had 
 finished, he said : ' Now, put that pen in my hand,' and 
 I did as he bid me, placing the letter on a book directly 
 under the pen. Then he wrote quite distinctly, 
 
 "'COUNT CLAUDIUS DAVILA.' 
 
 " The surgeon came in then, and seeing he was sinking 
 very fast, gave him some stimulant and motioned me to 
 leave him. 
 
 " I folded the letter I had written and put it under the 
 girdle of my dress, then made a sign to the surgeon that 
 I wished to speak with him alone. 
 
 "I told him I had a very important communication to 
 make to Lieutenant Duvall. 'In fact,' I said, 'Doctor, 
 I think this gentleman is Lieutenant Duvall's father. 
 Will it do him harm to tell him of his presence here? ' 
 
 " The doctor looked startled and puzzled. He said he 
 would go and examine the lieutenant's condition carefully 
 and let me know. But before he went he made me take 
 a glass of wine and lie down, because, he said, I looked 
 so white. 
 
 "Presently he came back and said : 'He is fairly well 
 this morning, just a little feverish, but I fancy his mind 
 is disturbed about something, and we had better let things 
 have their natural way ; sometimes it is better to be led 
 by circumstances, and if this is as you say, we have no 
 right to keep the knowledge from him,' 
 
 " So I went to his bedside, with the letter held firmly 
 under the girdle of my black dress. 
 
 " His face was feverish, but his eyes lit up when he saw 
 me, as if he had been waiting. 
 
 " ' Oh, at last you are come ! ' You know his little 
 foreign way. ' I could not sleep last night,' he went on, 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 297 
 
 ' because I am so impatient to learn more about that 
 Confederate officer,' and he fixed his eyes on me with 
 such a strange eager light in them. 'Who is Captain 
 De Montholon ? If you know anything about him, for 
 God's sake tell me.' 
 
 " I do not know what I said or how I tried to prepare 
 him for it, but, at last, I drew out the letter, and showing 
 him the signature, said : 
 
 "' There is the answer to your question.' 
 
 " Then 1 called the surgeon and went away, for I needed 
 to be calm myself. In a half hour I returned. He was 
 very pale, the color all gone now out of his face. He 
 held out his hand to me and said : 
 
 " ' Petrel, you have brought me blessed news ; my 
 father, for whom I have sought for years, is here, and I 
 am to see him in a few moments. I have read this letter 
 to my mother. He has been the victim of a cruel con- 
 spiracy, and 1 hope I may live to bring vengeance upon 
 that cold-blooded villain, Valerias, who has betrayed and 
 killed him. His friend did not die from the wound. 
 His solicitor, Valerias, never sent my mother those pa- 
 pers, nor one single letter from my father, and made us 
 believe, poor dupes and fools that we were, that he was 
 leading a life of shame and dishonor away from his 
 family.' 
 
 "The surgeon now came in, and said : ' I think Captain 
 De Montholon should be in some way prepared for what 
 he is to hear.' 
 
 "Of course I knew this meant that I was to go to him, 
 •which I did. I knelt down by his bedside and covered 
 his poor, thin hand with tears, as I told him, I know not 
 how, of what was in store for him. But, never, never 
 can I forget the look of joy in that dying face. He said: 
 ' Am I dreaming ? I have often dreamed this. No, it 
 cannot be ' 
 
 " ' Yes, yes,' I said, ' it is true ; he is here ; he has been 
 years looking for you ; he loves you.' 
 
 " ' Oh, my God ! ' he cried, ' let me live another hour ! 
 Only that — one hour to look into the face of my son !' 
 
 " ' Doctor,' he said, turning toward the surgeon, who 
 had come in, ' do not let me die quite yet ; can you not 
 give me something to prolong ' 
 
 " ' My dear friend,' said the surgeon, kindly, ' drink 
 
298 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 this ; and do not waste your strength ; say not another 
 word.' 
 
 " At a sign from the doctor, two strong attendants 
 quietly took up Lieutenant Duvall's cot and placed it 
 close beside that of the dying ofiEicer, so that they were 
 directly face to face, and near enough for the eager hands 
 to clasp ; and we all withdrew — only the surgeon and I 
 remaining near enough to be called if needed. 
 
 " We could hear the heartrending tones of that strange 
 interview — but it was all veiled in the mystery of a foreign 
 speech. 
 
 "Now that there was nothing more to be done I found 
 I was thoroughly exhausted, and I think I fainted ; I am 
 not sure, but I found myself in my own room and Martha 
 leaning over me, and have no idea how I got there. 
 They will not let me talk, or tell me anything about what 
 I so long to know. They think by making me quiet they 
 can stop thought. Ah, well ! I will wait and be patient. 
 But I did have my own way about writing you this letter, 
 and now I will try to sleep. 
 
 "Fondl}^ 
 
 " Petrel. 
 
 " December 29. 
 
 " Captain De Montholon died last night at midnight, 
 in his son's arms. "Petrel." 
 
CHAPTER LXI. 
 
 Frank Clayton read this letter way to its close. Of 
 the conflicting emotions which agitated him, astonish- 
 ment seemed the strongest. " De Montholon Claude 
 Duvall's father ! " he exclaimed, at last. " Impossible ! 
 And I have known him all these years, and met him again 
 and again ! How well I remember his air of foreign 
 distinction and the surprise with which I often listened to 
 his perfect English. I can see now his fine, European 
 courtliness of manner, the sad, aristocratic face, with 
 white moustache and imperial. And that was Claude's 
 father! Good God, why did I not then know it? How 
 much suffering might have been saved ! If Claude had 
 only confided in me ! But, even then, I should never 
 have suspected, for the name was French. And now to 
 think that she. Petrel — that child, with her inspired sym- 
 pathy and insight — has unravelled this mystery and 
 brought ihem together at last ! What a strange story ! 
 and who shall say that truth is not stranger than fiction ! " 
 
 It was far in the night, and there were stirring events on 
 the morrow; but he sat down in his tent and wrote two 
 letters — first, to Petrel, and then to Duvall. The latter 
 was as follows : 
 
 '* My Dear, Dear Friend : — 
 
 " You will know why my hand trembles and why my 
 heart throbs with deep emotion when I tell you that 
 Petrel has written me of the joy and the sorrow which 
 have in the same moment come to you. How deeply I 
 sympathize in both, need I say? And now, a new sur- 
 prise awaits you. I knew your father well — have had in- 
 timate personal and professional association with him for 
 years, through Mr. Wicklifife, my former partner, whose 
 client he was. I knew him as Colonel De Montholon, 
 and had the greatest admiration for his character and 
 abilities, although there was an impenetrable reserve 
 about him which always prevented me from coming near 
 
300 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 to him as I desired. On one occasion when j'ou and 
 I were at the St. Charles in New Orleans, I invited him 
 to dine with us. He pleaded an engagement, and when 
 I repeated the invitation, said — I remember so well how 
 he looked, with his melancholy and distinguished air — 
 ' You are kind, but you will have to excuse me ; I am 
 such a recluse ; I rarely accept invitations.' Had he 
 come — oh, think of it ! You would have met, and how 
 much been saved ! But you must often have been near 
 to each other, and, perhaps, even under the same 
 roof. 
 
 "Whether this will comfort or sadden you I do not 
 know, my dear Claude ; but I shall have much more to 
 tell you of your father which you will be so glad to hear. 
 
 " I hope to hear that these agitating events have not re- 
 tarded your recovery, and also that the time is not far dis- 
 tant when we may meet once more. 
 
 " Faithfully yours, 
 
 " Frank Clayton." 
 
 " An engagement is imminent — probably will take place 
 to-morrow. If anything should happen to me, I will take 
 comfort in knowing my ward will find a friend in you. 
 She will be amply provided for in my will, of course 
 
 "F. C." 
 
 A week later, Frank was not at all surprised to learn 
 from his friend, Doctor Magruder, at Leavenworth Hospi; 
 tal, that Petrel was suffering from nervous exhaustion. 
 " She is not ill," he wrote, " but there is a reaction from 
 the tremendous strain of those two days in the hospital, 
 when she played such an heroic part, and I have ordered 
 that she be kept absolutely free from excitement." 
 
 Clayton sent peremptory orders that she was on no 
 account to engage again in any hospital work, and that as 
 soon as she was able she should return to the convent 
 with Martha. 
 
 Rest and quiet brought back health to the young girl ; 
 but in vain she tried to return to her former occupations. 
 Nothing brought the old feeling of enjoyment ; her paint- 
 ing — music — books — all wearied her ; and Martha saw 
 with grief and anxiety a settled look of melancholy upon 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 30I 
 
 the face she so loved. Her old friend, Tom, the gardener, 
 shook his head, and said : " It was a bad day when they 
 let that tender young thing go to nuss in that hospital; 
 she ain't no more fit for it than nuthin, and she ain't bin 
 the same sence. Why, she don't care no more for these 
 flowers than if they wuz dirt." And he wiped his sleeve 
 across his eyes to brush away a tear of disappointment. 
 " I tole Martha jest how 'twould be. I sez, ' Martha, 
 some things is right, and some things izn't.' " 
 
 One sunny morning, in the early spring, a gentleman 
 called at the convent and asked permission to see Miss 
 Petrel. 
 
 She dressed and came down-stairs, perfectly calm and 
 self-possessed, although she knew well whom she should 
 see. But, was that tall, pale, distinguished-looking man 
 her patient ? Yes ; there were the great luminous eyes, 
 there was the same smile of welcome, and there the poor 
 right arm in a sling. He too had his feeling of strnnge- 
 ness and svu'prise. He had only seen her in the bhuk 
 gown and white head-dress of the Sisterhood ; and this 
 graceful creature in flowing draperies was a new revela- 
 tion to him. Was this young goddess ever his nurse.'' 
 Ah ! how lovely she was, with her quickly changing color, 
 as he talked to her of his father, of his gratitude for the 
 joy and the comfort she had brought to him. How deftly 
 she parried his praise of her heroism and her kindness to 
 his poor father ! 
 
 He told her he was going home to Italy, and as her 
 color faded until she looked like marble, an expression of 
 joy came into his own pale face. 
 
 " Petrella," he said, very soflh'. 
 
 She gave him a quick, startled look. 
 
 "Whydo\nu call me that? There is only one other 
 who ever called me by that name." 
 
 " Yes ; I know," he said. " I have come to learn that 
 pretty name from my father. We had eight hours — eight 
 blessed hours together, Petrella, and we talked of much 
 things. He told me how you were an angel to him — how 
 you solace and make lighter his poor heart. And now, 
 Petrella, I go awav, but 1 hope — not for always. I come 
 back some day — do you know whv ? Because I cannot 
 stay away. Because — I love you, Petrella." 
 
302 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 Ah ! was this the same poor, grey, sickly sunlight that 
 shone this morning ? Were these flowers poor old Tom 
 was bringing her the same dull things she had seen only 
 a few hours ago ? Claude had gone, an ocean would soon 
 roll between them — but he had said those four words, 
 " Petrel la, I love you," and is it strange she had no regrets 
 for that one kiss which lingered in her memory ? 
 
CHAPTER LXII. 
 
 Frank Clayton's mail had brought him many surprises 
 of late, but no letter had given him food for so much 
 anxious deliberation as the one he received from his old 
 friend, written just on the eve of sailing for Europe. 
 After telling him of the circumstances which rendered it 
 necessary for him to resign his commission in the Federal 
 Aimy, consequent upon the new duties in assuming his 
 father's title and settling up his estate, he went on to say 
 — what we already know — that he loved Clayton's niece ; 
 and he formally asked permission of his friend to offer 
 her his hand in marriage. 
 
 Clayton was profoundly perplexed and distressed. He 
 had never told Claude of the discovery of Petrel's mother 
 and the clearing away of the mystery of her birth and 
 origin ; that was a secret known only to Martha and him- 
 self; now he must divulge it. She had seemed to him 
 such a child, he had never thought of a strange complica- 
 tion such as this ; and yet what more natural than that she 
 should fall in love with Claude, who was beyond compare 
 the most fascinating man he had ever known ! But — it 
 could never be. Had his friend remained obscure, it 
 would have been different ; but now that he bore a distin- 
 guished name and title and was allied to some of the 
 proudest families in Italy, it would be a misalliance and 
 would bring only misery in the end to both. 
 
 All this he embodied in a carefully written letter — the 
 most difficult he ever penned — and a few weeks later 
 received the following reply : 
 
 "Sorrento, June 12, 186-. 
 " My Dear Friend : — 
 
 " For the first time, I am angr}^ yes, angry, with you. 
 I have suffered much, God knows ; and now you would 
 take away my great joy. I have read with deepest inter- 
 est all you write about Petrella, because all that touches 
 her is to me so sacred ; but what care I who was her 
 
304 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 ancestor, or what color the blood in her veins ! It is she, 
 Petrclla, whom I love, and for that — we Italians think not 
 so much disgrace in that race as do you Americans. And 
 if they did, what should I care ? Where is there such 
 another ? Such a soul ? such a heart ? Ah 1 Mon Dieii ! 
 Have I not reason to know what she is ? Did not my 
 dying father say : ' Petrella has consoled me like an 
 angel ; I should die happier, my son, if I thought she 
 would some day be your wife ' ? And did I not tell him : 
 ' Father, I love her ! ' ? 
 
 " No ; you say wrong, my friend ; it is «tf/ gratitude ; for 
 I love her before she make me that great service. And 
 now — I am not angry — no, I unsay that, but you make 
 me suffer with this delay. No one will ever know the 
 secret you tell me in this letter, no one. We will bury it, 
 and go on as if it did not live. 
 
 " My mother and sister talk of Petrella, only Petrella, the 
 good angel which restored to us our father and make us 
 know how honorable and how injured he is ; and think 
 you not I will feel pride to bring her here — to say to my 
 friends ' This is my wife ' .-' 
 
 " Write on the moment you receive this letter, and 
 address me Sorrento, Italy. 
 
 " Faithfully yours, 
 
 " Claudius Davila." 
 
 The same mail which brought this to Clayton had 
 brought to Petrel in her quiet retreat two letters : one in 
 a foreign handwriting, evidently from a lady, and accom- 
 panying it a mysterious packet. She examined the post- 
 mark, " Sorrento," with anxious eyes, and her fingers 
 trembled not a little as she broke the crested seal. This 
 was what she read : 
 
 "Sorrento, June 10, 1S6-. 
 " Mia Carrissima Petrella : — 
 
 " My heart is so full that my poor English cannot 
 contain its thought. My son has told us how heroique, 
 how beautiful, was your devotion to my poor husband, and 
 you are enshrined like a saint in our house. My benuti- 
 ful child, we shall never cease to thank you for the joy 
 you have brought back to our unhappy, dnrkened hearts. 
 So manv years ! And all for naught ! Such wickedness 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 305 
 
 and such misconception, and, alas ! such suffering ! But, 
 through you, we have his dear ashes now safe with us, 
 and are happier than in eight long years. 
 
 " Will you have the goodness to accept this souvenir 
 from your grateful and loving friend, 
 
 " CONTESSA GlULETTA DaVILA. 
 
 " Pardon me my poor English, Aladcmoiselle.^^ 
 
 The mysterious wrappings one after another were 
 removed from the package, and at last revealed a red 
 Morocco box, with a gold monogram and a crest on the 
 cover. Petrel scarcely dared press upon the little spring 
 — it was all so impossible, so dazzling an experience to 
 come to her, in her hitherto quiet and uneventful life. 
 When she opened it, there lay, softly cushioned in satin, 
 a gold locket and chain, and upon the locket was traced 
 in diamonds one single word : 
 
 " PETRELLA." 
 
 The eyes which looked within the locket were too 
 blinded with tears to see, at first, the miniature faces 
 which looked out upon her — the Count and Countess 
 Davila, taken at the time of their marriage — so a little, 
 brief letter from Claude told her. And when she had 
 taken these treasures to her own room and locked the 
 door, she looked longest and most earnestly — at the 
 beautiful gift ? Ah, no ! At a little letter, containing 
 not more than four lines; not one word in it that all the 
 world might not have seen ! And this exacting young 
 lady was more sad than glad, and came down-stairs later 
 with eyes that looked as if they had wept. 
 
CHAPTER LXIII. 
 
 Of course Clayton's opposition gave way before 
 Claude's invincible temper ; and he was glad indeed not 
 to be the instrument in making two people miserable, as 
 he himself was. He wrote at once to Martha a confiden- 
 tial letter, telling her of Count Claudius Davila's pro- 
 posal. He then said : 
 
 " As her mother, it is your privilege to decide 
 what shall be done in this matter ; and I shall delay 
 my reply to his letter until I hear from you." 
 
 A few weeks later, another letter and another little 
 packet sped across the sea and half across the continent, 
 to the little Convent of " Sacre-Coeur," in Kansas; but 
 this letter might ?iot have been seen by all the world ! 
 It was read behind locked doors, and the reading seemed 
 to occupy fully two hours ; after which a young lady 
 emerged with a shining radiance in her face. 
 
 Martha's quick eye detected the look, and, at the same 
 moment, the jewelled ring on her hand. 
 
 Petrel laid her head on the faithful woman's bosom and 
 said in a low voice : 
 
 " Martha, dear, 1 am going to be the wife of Count 
 Claudius Davila ; he has asked me to marry him. Only 
 think," said she, raising her head and looking into the 
 kind eyes, " only think of his choosing me, poor little me, 
 out of all this world ! Isn't it like a fairy-tale ? " 
 
 The kind Sisters treated the little maid as a person of 
 great distinction when they heard what was to happen ; 
 and her old school-fellows were not a little awed by her 
 brilliant romance. But Martha was her only confidante, 
 
 " Martha, dear," she said, " I must study ; I ought to 
 know so much. First, I must learn Italian ; and then — 
 why, there is so much about Italy that I don't know at 
 all. Oh, dear," she said, sighing, '■'■now I want a mother. 
 And how proud and happy she would be ! Do you 
 know, I see her often, and I know just how she would 
 look," and she threw her head back with half-closed lids, 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 307 
 
 as if painting a picture in space. " She has soft brown 
 hair, with only a few silver threads — and a fair sweet 
 face — with just a faint little color ; and she wears soft, 
 shining, gray silks, and creamy lace at her throat ; and 
 she has lovely, gracious manners," and her color kindling 
 as she gave the reins to her imagination, " and when she 
 rides in her daughter's carriage the great ladies in 
 Sorrento look after her and say : ' That is the beautiful 
 American lady, the Countess Petrella's mother I ' " And 
 with a laugh, hiding her head on her maid's shoulder, she 
 said : " No one but you, dear, knows how silly I can 
 be." Then, starting up quickly, " Why, you are crying — 
 you are crying ! What is it .'' " 
 
 " Oh, nothing, nothing," said the poor woman, strug- 
 gling to check her sobs. " Only I am thinking I may 
 lose you — that you will go away." 
 
 "Why, you dear, foolish, old Martha; if that is all, do 
 not cry any more, for you shall never leave me ; when I 
 am married, I shall take you with me — to Italy or to the 
 ends of the earth." 
 
CHAPTER LXIV. 
 
 " Beechwood, July 3, 1S6-. 
 
 " My Dear Frank : — 
 
 " I have heard through Doctor Magruder of Petrel's 
 strange and romantic experience at the hospital ; and now 
 comes the rumor of her engagement to Count Davila. I 
 am a little — just a little — hurt to learn this first from 
 strangers ; but Katrine and I can talk and think of little 
 else. Do write me at once, and confirm or deny the 
 story. We were sorely disappointed that you would not 
 let her come to us after her illness in May, and I cannot 
 understand, my dear Frank, why you deny me the privi- 
 lege of acting in the place of a mother to this dear child, 
 whom, not having seen, I still love as my own. 
 
 " Still I am, always affectionately yours, 
 
 " Kate Fletcher." 
 
 Concealments were of all things in the world most dis- 
 tasteful to Clayton ; and yet he was all the time entan- 
 gled in a mesh of subterfuges and evasions. He wrote 
 Kate, parrying as well as he could her reproaches for 
 keeping Petrel away from her, and told her that the en- 
 gagement to Count Davila was indeed a fact, but that he 
 should urge that the marriage be delayed until she was 
 nineteen. 
 
 Then he wrote to Roland Priest announcing the event, 
 with a brief account of the circumstances which had led 
 to it. This letter was read with a twinge of disappoint- 
 ment by that young man, who had had romantic visions 
 of his own regarding Clayton's beautiful ward, of whom 
 they had heard so much but never seen. 
 
 But Isabel listened to the recital with very different 
 emotions. In her sleepless nights, her long rides over 
 the mountains, she had made many forecasts of her lost 
 lover's future, and had a jealous suspicion that he would, 
 at last, console himself by marrying this lovely girl ; and 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 30() 
 
 she felt an indescribable peace in seeing this phantom 
 laid low. 
 
 Like most people with strong natures, she was re- 
 served and reticent. Her mother and Roland knew that 
 she had suffered, but had never fathomed the depth of her 
 sorrow, nor suspected the desperate resolve which some- 
 times seized her to go to him. She read with sickening 
 horror of battles and slaughter. He was now where the 
 conflict was the hottest, and her nerves were strained 
 almost past endurance by the rumors of fresh engage- 
 ments, or by delay in the arrival of his letters to Ro- 
 land. In the night, while others slept, she said bitter 
 things to herself — arraigned her own soul for arrogance 
 and pride and conceit. She had closed the door upon 
 this angel visitant — this beautiful, transfiguring love — and 
 for what.'' Because she was better than he.' Because 
 she knew more than he about the great problems of in- 
 finity ? Better than he about the nature of that inscruta- 
 ble Being whom man clothes with his own attributes ? In 
 the awful crucible of suffering her soul had grown beyond 
 the limits of human creeds ; and had he been here now, 
 how different had been her answer ! " Too late ! Too 
 late ! " was her piteous cry. 
 
 One night in the late autumn she had slept better than 
 usual, but just before the dawn was awakened by some- 
 thing touching her hair lightly. She started, fully awake 
 in a moment, and saw two outstretched arms, and a face 
 radiant in the moonlight, which streamed in from the win- 
 dow — the rest of the form indistinct in the darkness — the 
 arms stretched appealingly, as a voice said: 
 
 " Come to me, my beloved, come to me ! " 
 
 Then the vision faded, and she heard only the clock 
 ticking on the shelf. The face, the voice, were Clayton's. 
 With solemn intensity, Isabel stretched out her own arms 
 toward the darkness where she had seen the vision, and 
 said : 
 
 " Yes, dearest, I will go to you." 
 
 Her nerves were firm and strong; she was not fanciful 
 nor superstitious. What was this summons ? Her resolve 
 was taken. She went to the breakfast-table vervpale and 
 calm, and when it was over she put Ium' arm around her 
 mother's neck and kissed her. 
 
 "Mamma, dear," she said, "you know if Rr)Iand ha 1 
 
3IO THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 been well we could not have kept him with us. He 
 would have been in this cruel war, and then my duty 
 would have been here ; but now I think you ought to 
 spare me. Don't, don't," she said, putting her finger on her 
 mother's lips, "wait; I am not happy, my darling mother. 
 I think you know it. I will be better where I can do 
 some good — where I can do my part in this time of sor- 
 row and trial. Now, do not oppose me, dear mamma," 
 and she kissed the sad, patient face. " It will be better 
 for us all to let me go. I will nurse the wounded — and — 
 perhaps — perhaps — he may need me." 
 
 Opposition to the plan was useless, so Mrs. Priest and 
 Roland acquiesced, and preparations were made for Isa- 
 bel's departure by the next steamer for Panama. Her 
 first destination would be Washington city, to which place 
 letters would follow her. 
 
 The parting at the steamer was a trying one for all, but 
 borne bravely ; and the mother and brother, as they 
 watched the loved form upon the deck of the receding 
 vessel, never suspected that she was going in answer to a 
 summons from a phantom. 
 
CHAPTER LXV. 
 
 The voyage seemed interminable, and was, indeed, 
 greatly prolonged by storms and head-winds after leaving 
 Aspinwall : but New York was reached at last; and Is- 
 abel and her small luggage were soon speeding by cars 
 to Washington. She found protection in a kind lady, 
 who was on a similar errand — that is, who was going to 
 give her services to the care of the wounded wherever 
 she found them most needed ; and Isabel gladly accepted 
 the invitation to join her, for their mutual benefit. 
 
 Where she should go from Washington, she did not 
 know ; that must be determined by what she could learn 
 there, her idea being to find some field of usefulness as 
 near as possible to Frank's vicinity. 
 
 Soon the dome of the Capitol appeared in dazzling 
 white on a field of azure — and in a few moments more 
 they bowled into the station and then took a carriage for 
 Willard's Hotel. As she had hoped, letters from home 
 awaited her, having come by the quicker route of the 
 " Pony Express." Two letters — one from Roland and 
 another from her mother — then a long envelope, ad- 
 dressed in an unfamiliar hand, to "Miss Isabel Priest, 
 Coultersville, California," which had been readdressed by 
 Roland to Washington. What could it be .^ She opened 
 it, and from within the letter dropped a folded piece of 
 paper. Marble is not whiter than was her face as she 
 opened it and discovered, in her own handwriting, these 
 words : 
 
 "Any one finding this upon Mr. Frank Clayton will 
 please at once communicate with Miss Isabel Priest, 
 Coultersville, California, informing her of his precise con- 
 dition." 
 
 It was the " amulet " she had placed about his neck in 
 parting ! 
 
 The paper dropped from her nerveless grasp, and she 
 
312 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 sat like a statue for many moments, not daring to read 
 the letter, which was as follows : 
 
 "Near Chattanooga, Tenn., Nov. 12, x86-. 
 " Dear Madam : — 
 
 " Mr. Clayton was found on the battlefield, badly 
 wounded in the leg, and with a severe cut over the left 
 eye, from a bursting shell. He has remained unconscious 
 from the latter wound, which I fear is a serious fracture 
 of the skull. Our hospital accommodations are meagre 
 for our own sick and wounded, but such as they are, rest 
 assured we will share with your friend. 
 " Respectfully, 
 
 " Edward Eve, 
 "Assistant Surgeon C. S. A." 
 
 November 12! It was the night of November 11, 
 or the morning of the 12th, that she had seen those'out- 
 stretched arms and heard that voice supplicating her to 
 "come!" And at that moment he was lying wounded 
 on the battlefield ! Now her way was clear, and her 
 nerves felt firm as steel, as she rose with a solemn con- 
 viction that she should find him and that it would 7iot be 
 too late. 
 
 After consultation with her friend, Miss Anna Plant, it 
 was decided to go at once to Secretary Stanton, to try 
 and secure the necessary pass within the Confederate 
 lines. 
 
 The great war secretary was too busy to give time to 
 such small matters, and quickly disposed of it by a 
 peremptory refusal. 
 
 What was to be done next? Go to the President? 
 Isabel thought of a letter to Mr. Lincoln which her old 
 friend, Captain John Brown, had long ago given to Ro- 
 land, and which he had never presented. To this she 
 added these words : 
 
 " Roland Priest's sister desires to see the President 
 upon a matter of life and death." 
 
 It was an inspiration. Doors opened like magic before 
 the two ladies who waited below, and who found them- 
 selves a few moments later in the presence of the Presi- 
 dent. 
 
 So absorbed was the brave girl in the object of her 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. ^l;^ 
 
 coming she was utterly unconscious of the sensation she 
 made in the glittering array of uniformed and dis- 
 tinguished men, who respectfully fell back to make way 
 for her in the Audience Chamber. She thought of noth- 
 ing but of Frank — wounded — and waiting for her — and 
 threw back her veil, that she could look more closely into 
 the kind face of the President, as he said : 
 
 " What can I do for you, Miss Priest ? " 
 
 " Mr. President, I have a friend, a brave officer, who is 
 wounded and a prisoner in a Confederate hospital, in 
 Tennessee. I have been sent for, and his life may de- 
 pend upon my going to him. Secretary Stanton has re- 
 fused the pass ; can jou give it to me .-' " 
 
 Whether it was the pathos of the story or the beauty 
 of the girl, none can tell ; but the President was captured, 
 and he reached his hand for the paper 014 which Secre- 
 tary Stanton had endorsed his "No," saying : 
 
 " Let me see your application," and quickly wrote on a 
 separate sheet : 
 
 " If not very detrimental to the public service, grant 
 Miss Priest's request. 
 
 " A. L." 
 
 Then writing a few lines, which he folded and placed 
 in the same envelope, he said very kindly : 
 
 " There, Miss Priest, give this to Secretary Stanton, 
 and I think you will have no further difficulty. Now, 
 God bless you, my child, in your brave undertaking," 
 and, leaning toward her with a significant smile, he added 
 in a low tone : " I think your heart will lead you right — 
 and I think — Colonel Clayton ought to be a very happy 
 man." 
 
 Isabel was too glad at her success to mind the blush 
 she knew was dyeing her cheeks way up to the temples, 
 and with just a murmured word of gratitude, presssd his 
 hand and was gone. 
 
 He was right ; Secretary Stanton sent back the paper 
 reinforced with still another — an order to "Commanders 
 of the United States forces wherever stationed, to give to 
 the bearer, Isabel Priest, any aid or information that 
 she may ask not absolutely detrimental to the Govern- 
 
3 14 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 ment service," Then signed, " Edward M, Stanton, 
 Secretary of War." 
 
 The messenger who gave this to Isabel and her friend 
 said : 
 
 " The Secretary will see you for one moment if you will 
 come this way." 
 
 They followed him, and were soon in the august pres- 
 ence. Continuing his writing for a while, as if unaware 
 of their presence, he then looked up and motioned for 
 them to approach. 
 
 " Which is Miss Priest ? " said he ; and then bowed 
 slightly when Isabel answered that she was the lady. 
 
 " Miss Priest, what is the name of the officer you seek ? 
 We may be able to aid you in finding him." 
 
 " It is Colonel Clayton, of the First Regiment," 
 
 said she, coloring deeply. 
 
 " Clayton ? " he answered abruptly. " I know him — 
 why, he's dead." 
 
 " Dead ! " said Isabel, sinking into a chair with a look 
 of despair. 
 
 " Yes ; the records of this office show that he was killed. 
 Several of his officers saw him and his horse blown to 
 pieces by an exploding shell at the very moment when he 
 was leading a charge on a Confederate battery." 
 
 Isabel rallied in an instant. 
 
 "I think," she said, " if you will read this you will see 
 that he was alive after the battle to which you allude," 
 and she handed to him Dr. Edward Eve's letter. 
 
 The secretary read it carefully. 
 
 " Yes," he said, nodding his head ; " I see ; it may be 
 as you say. Of course, I hope so," handing it back to 
 her ; " but officially he is dead. My advice to you. Miss 
 Priest, is to find this Doctor Eve ; that is your surest 
 way." 
 
 A nod indicated that the interview was ended ; and in 
 a few hours the two ladies were on their way south, the 
 powerful open sesame ready to remove obstacles by the 
 way. 
 
CHAPTER LXVI. 
 
 " Near Richmond, January 6, 1S6-. 
 
 "■ My Dear Mother : 
 
 " Since my last letter, written at Knoxville, we have 
 passed through experiences strange and terrible. No 
 words can ever fitly describe what I have beheld ! Think 
 of our spending one whole day in the cars at Chattanooga 
 while the fiercest battle of the war was raging so near us 
 that we heard every detonation, every explosion of shell — 
 saw the smoke, behind which was so much human agony, 
 rolling in billowy masses up the mountain side. Oh, the 
 rush and the roar and the wild tumult of that day ! Troops 
 endlessly coming, disembarking and marching to cries of 
 'Column Left!' 'Forward!' 'Double-quick!' and a 
 thousand other unintelligible commands, all mingled so 
 that we wondered any human being could understand. 
 And then, above all else, the whizzing, hissing cry of the 
 shells, as if a legion of fiends were rushing and shrieking 
 in mid-air. It was hideous ! And to know that every 
 separate detonation and volley meant slaughter, or even 
 worse, suft'ering — awful human suffering! To be in it, it 
 seems to me, would have been less terrible than to sit, as 
 we did, in those motionless cars, and only think a.x\A feel. 
 
 "Toward sunset the sounds grew less frequent, dying 
 gradually with the day, until when the stars came out 
 they shone on a scene of absolute stillness ; and we had 
 been told there was a great victory for our side. Alas ! 
 my patriotism seemed dead. How could I rejoice at any- 
 thing so awful ! Was anything worth such human sacri- 
 fice ? This is the question I asked myself as Anna and I 
 went with others, carrying lanterns, to the battle-field, to 
 see if there might not be some living among the dead. 
 
 " I cannot dwell upon this now — perhaps some day I may 
 tell you, but not now. Enough to say we rescued a Con- 
 federate officer, a Captain Arnold, who is now at the hos- 
 pital tenderly cared for, instead of being stark and dead, 
 
3l6 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 as he would have been before morning if Anna and I had 
 not discovered faint signs of life when others insisted 
 that he was dead. 
 
 " And now I come to a strange part of my story. We 
 found by letters about Captain Arnold's person that he was 
 an intimate friend of Dr. Edward Eve, the Confederate 
 surgeon for whom I am looking, who alone can give news 
 of Mr. Clayton. 
 
 " We staid a week at the hospital at Chattanooga, and in 
 that time came to know well this Captain Arnold whom we 
 had the happiness of rescuing. His recovery is doubtful, 
 and he made me his confidante, giving me letters and 
 remembrances for the young lady to whom he is engaged, 
 knowing that I was going to Richmond, where Dr. Eve 
 now is, and that I would be able to see her, as she lives 
 just outside the city. My acquaintance with this brave 
 Confederate officer has done much to widen my charity 
 and to enlarge my point of view. Ah ! Mother, dear, tell 
 Roland, the valor, the courage, the splendid devotion to a 
 principle, is not all on our side. None could exceed this 
 Southern hero in these qualities ; and I have come to un- 
 derstand that his cause is as sacred to him as is ours to 
 us ! 
 
 " To-morrow we are to see General Grant and try in some 
 way to communicate with Dr. Edward Eve, who is within 
 the city, and perhaps — our friend — our dear friend — is 
 also there, in Libby Prison. All is vague until I see Dr, 
 Eve — which God grant may be soon ! 
 
 " Kiss my Roland, and tell him to embrace you for 
 " Your dearly loving daughter, 
 
 " Isabel." 
 
 "January 8, 186-. 
 " My Dear Mother : 
 
 " I write this from a haven of peace ! We had no diffi- 
 culty in finding Miss Henry, Captain Kn\o\(.VsJianctfe; and 
 you may imagine our interview, in which she learned of 
 her lover's narrow escape from death ! The gratitude of 
 the family knows no bounds, and they insisted that Anna 
 and I should come to their beautiful, stately old home, 
 where we now are, and where we are treated like prin- 
 cesses. Mrs. Henry is a majestic old lady, with a soft 
 white lace cap resting on her snowy hair; and Miss Vir- 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 317 
 
 ginia — well, she is all that she should be, to be the heroine 
 of this romance. If these are typical Southerners, I am 
 afraid I should love them and feel little like killing their 
 sons, and carrying the torch into their households ! 
 
 "Virginia's story is indeed romantic. Colonel Tucker, 
 Captain Arnold's superior ofificer, was madly in love with 
 her and insanely jealous of him, and there is little doubt 
 he tried to sacrifice him in the hope of winning her. But 
 he is foiled; for Captain Arnold will not die, and she will 
 yet be his wife, 
 
 "I have not seen General Grant, but Colonel Babcock, 
 one of his staff, has promised me that I shall do so to- 
 morrow. There is an occasional interchange, by flag of 
 truce, between the beleaguered city and the army outside, 
 and I can by this means get a letter to Doctor Eve. You 
 may think how terrible it is when I tell you that I long 
 to hear that he whom I seek is in that dreadful prison. 
 
 " I will leave this open, and add more to-morrow. 
 
 " January 9, ii p.m. 
 
 " Mother darling, this has been a weary and alas ! an 
 unfruitful day — a day of strange experiences, of which 
 some time I will tell you and Roland. Fancy my going 
 in an ambulance to a place where there was to be a con- 
 ference by flag of truce, in order to meet General Grant, 
 and there having a glimpse of war behind the scenes, as it 
 were. 
 
 "It was a smiling, peaceful landscape, with nothing to 
 indicate the presence of an army ; but here and there, 
 from behind fresh mounds of earth, would now and then 
 come a puff of white smoke, soon followed by a loud 
 report. 
 
 "I was told we were on the picket-line, and behind 
 these mounds were keen, watchful eyes, losing no chance 
 to lay low an enemy who should carelessly expose him- 
 self — taking deliberate aim, and with no more compunc- 
 tion than if it were a wild bird at which they were firing! 
 Only think how horrible ! And then, at a signal which 
 both sides understood, the firing ceases, and there is an 
 interval of amity, when they meet half-way, exchange gos- 
 sip and tobacco for coffee, sugar, flour, etc. ; and then, 
 at a signal, each party betakes himself to his post, and war 
 begins again. The eye that smiled and the hands which 
 
3l8 THE STORMY PETREL, 
 
 clasped in friendly recognition, deal out death on the first 
 opportunity, 
 
 " We saw a man waving a red flag from a great high 
 tower, up and down, right and left, then fast and slow, 
 ' Why does he expose himself ? ' I exclaimed. ' He will be 
 shot,' And sure enough, shells began to explode all about 
 the tower where he stood. ' Why does he not come away ? ' 
 I cried. The officer laughed, and explained to me that he 
 was signalling some movements of troops, and would not 
 think of deserting his post until his message was given. 
 Then, taking his glass, he said, ' I'll tell you what he is 
 saying: 'A small body of men approaching from the 
 direction of Petersburg bearing white flag.' Good! 
 That's our conferees coming to arrange for the exchange 
 of prisoners.' 
 
 " Before the Confederate officers arrived I saw General 
 Grant. When, in reply to his questions as to how he 
 might serve me, I said, ' General, I want to go to Rich- 
 mond, ' you should have seen the humorous twinkle 
 with which he said, 'And so do I. ^o you expect to do 
 what I have tried in vain to accomplish with a hundred 
 thousand men, eh ? Thus far we have only come within 
 hailing distance,' 
 
 " But he was kind ; and, to make a long story short. 
 Dr. Edward Eve had received my letter, and when the 
 officers came, under escort of the flag of truce, for confer- 
 ence, he was with them. Only think of it ! There I stood 
 face to face with him. The eyes which looked into mine 
 had seen him. Do you wonder I trembled, and that I 
 cannot now tell you connectedly what he said .'' But this 
 is what it all meant. Colonel Clayton was not in Libby 
 Prison, nor did Dr. Eve know where he was. He had been 
 badly injured by a shell, and was found at the dawn of 
 day by the Confederates apparently dead. 
 
 "Then he went on to say: 'His wounds healed like 
 magic, but the shock to his mind was too great for medi- 
 cal skill. I have thought that there was fracture of 
 the skull,' he said, 'but other surgeons examined the 
 wound, and disagreed with me ; so no operation was 
 attempted. When we retreated Colonel Clayton was in 
 the hospital, though not strictly a patient or a prisoner. 
 In the hurry and disorder he was missed, and no one 
 could give any account of him beyond the fact that he 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 3I9 
 
 Started with the hospital wagons ; but how far he came, or 
 where he went, no one knows. I have made dihgent in- 
 quiry so far as I could inside our lines, but without avail.' 
 In answer to my question, he said, ' I think the best 
 place to look for him, Miss Priest, is where he was last 
 seen, Camp Hood, not far from Chattanooga.' 
 
 " So, mother dear, we leave our kind, kind friends in the 
 morning, and go back to Chattanooga ; and beyond that, 
 I cannot say. 
 
 " Yours, with an aching heart, 
 
 " Isabel." 
 
CHAPTER LXVII. 
 
 Once more the two brave women found themselves 
 under the' shadow of Lookout Mountain, which rising 
 sheer 2,000 feet, stands like a sugar-loaf amid the billowy 
 hills of " Missionary Ridge," while Chattanooga crouches 
 at its feet. 
 
 How Isabel would have loved to take a mad scamper 
 on 'J'empest up that steep road which climbed the moun- 
 tain-side ! But she felt as if such pleasures were for her 
 nevermore, as they sadly returned to the hospital. 
 
 The surgeon, Dr. Crosby, met them kindly, but had no 
 news to tell of Colonel Clayton, whom he had been 
 instructed by them to make inquiries for from all probable 
 sources. 
 
 He talked with Anna of his patients. " I am glad you 
 are with us again ; we need your steady hand and cool 
 head, and I do hope you will stay. There is a poor 
 fellow who is to be trepanned this afternoon, who, I think, 
 I shall put in your charge. It is a strange case. He says 
 he is a Confederate ofificer, but we cannot make out who or 
 what he is. He is mad as a March hare — sometimes 
 thinks he is Raphael. There is a scar which leads me to 
 the suspicion that a violent blow has caused a slight 
 fracture or depression of the skull, which presses on the 
 brain ; at any rate, we are going to work on that theory ; 
 for if he doesn't get relief soon he will die in the mad- 
 house. Now, will vou and Miss Priest walk through the 
 wards ? " ' 
 
 Anna called her friend, who was wistfully looking out 
 of the window at a cloud-wreath, which encircled the 
 head of Lookout Mountain. Sighing wearily, she turned 
 and listlessly followed them into the other parts of the 
 building. 
 
 Doctor Crosby explained the different cases as they 
 passed along the double row of white cots — but Isabel 
 heard only words — words — words. She felt as if her 
 sympathies were becoming benumbed, under the tension 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 32 1 
 
 of her overstrained nerves. Finally he paused at a door 
 and said : "Now I will show you the patient I told you 
 of, Miss Plant," and turning the key he opened the door. 
 Alone in the room, there stood a tall, haggard-looking 
 man in Confederate uniform — pencil in hand, with rapt 
 expression, wholly unconscious of their presence. 
 
 With a wild cry and a swift movement, Isabel was at 
 his side. 
 
 "My beloved!" she said, seizing his hand. "My 
 beloved, it is I — Isabtl — look at me ! "' 
 
 The wild eyes turned upon her without a ray of recogni- 
 vion. 
 
 " Frank," she went on, in heart-rending tone, "don't 
 you know me ? I am your Belle — your ' Belle, with the 
 silver tongue' — }our 'Priestess!' — Look at nie — you 
 called me to come to you, dear, and I am heie; try to 
 remember ! " 
 
 " I ought to know you," he answered, with a troubled 
 look ; " I ought to know you. But, oh ! " and the blood 
 surged into his face and throat, "oh ! this Vesuvius in my 
 brain ! '" and loosening his hand from her grasp, he put 
 both his own despairingly on his head. 
 
 Isabel slipped down upon the floor at his feet in a dead 
 swoon, and was carried away unconscious and laid upon 
 her own bed, where her friend tenderly tried to restore 
 her. 
 
 It seemed as if the effort at recognition had been too 
 much for the unfortunate man, and he was raving like a 
 maniac and imploring to have the volcano opened tiiat 
 the hot lava surging in his brain might escape. 
 
 Doctor Crosby made immediate preparations for the 
 operation, Miss Plant in the meantime watching bv the 
 still unconscious Isabel. After a long time, the eyelids 
 trembled and the breath began to come softly; then the 
 eyes opened and she realized what had happened. 
 
 " Now lie perfectly quiet, dear," said Anna, putting a 
 hand firmly upon her arm. 
 
 " I must go to him," said Isabel, feebly. Then realiz- 
 ing the detaining hand of her friend, she said : " Anna, 
 let me go to him ; I can bear it ; I will be perfectly calm 
 — biit I must see him." 
 
 "Listen," said her friend, very quietly. " you cannot go 
 now, dear; by and by you shall; but he must be quiet 
 
322 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 now, and for his sake you must stay here. Now take this 
 valerian." 
 
 Isabel no longer resisted ; she took the draught, then 
 fell back on the pillow, white and still as if she were dead. 
 
 After some time. Miss Plant softly arose and left her 
 alone, going to seek information of Colonel Clayton's 
 condition, thinking the operation must by this time be 
 over. The doctor smiled reassuringly when he saw her. 
 
 "Yes," he said, "it was just as I thought; there was a 
 pressure on the brain ; and, do you know, the instant that 
 was relieved he took up his life precisely at the moment 
 he was injured, and sprang to his feet grasping a long 
 knife from the table and wildly waving it above his 
 head, cried ' Charge ! I sa}^, charge ! and give them a 
 taste of cold steel ! ' Then he fell back as if he were 
 dead. Now he is asleep, and I think he will awake as 
 sane as you or I." 
 
 *' Oh, how wonderful it is ! " exclaimed Anna. " To 
 think she has found him at last. Doctor! It was all I 
 could do," she went on, " to keep her quiet after she 
 came to herself. She said she must see him." 
 
 "Well, I think there will be no harm in her seeing him 
 when he awakens; you may tell her so, and then she will 
 be more contented. But I want you to take entire 
 charge of his case. You understand, Miss Plant? My 
 impression is he will have no fever and will come right 
 up ; but she is in no condition just now to nurse any one, 
 poor child ! " 
 
 Anna returned with a look of joy on her sympathetic 
 face and told Isabel the good news, who, after the 
 strange fashion of her sex, threw herself into her friend's 
 arms and burst into a fit of hysterical weeping. It 
 seemed as if her very heart were dissolving in tears — the 
 long tension was over — nature found this mode of relief 
 — and now a heavenly calm pervaded her being, and she 
 lay with closed eyes on the bed. 
 
 Again she was left alone, as Anna went to inquire 
 about the condition of the patient. When she returned a 
 half-hour later, Isabel had arisen and was coiling her 
 long hair about her shapely head. She looked quickly 
 into Anna's eyes to read the news they bore, and smiled 
 serenely at what she saw there. 
 
 " He is sleeping quietly as a child," said Anna, "and 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 323 
 
 the doctor says, dear, you may go and sit in the room if 
 you will keep out of his sight should he awaken, and on 
 no account speak to him until the doctor gives you per- 
 mission." 
 
CHAPTER LXVIII. 
 
 For hours he slept on, all unconscious who was watch- 
 ing him. And she — of what did she think, as she sat 
 with hands tightly clasped, lips parted, her eyes fixed 
 upon the face she had so longed to see ? She had time 
 to recall it all, in those silent hours — the meeting on the 
 prairie — the night by the camp-fire — then his sudden ap- 
 parition at Coultersville ; the rides — the walks — on the 
 mountain-side ; the sure growth of that love, which had 
 now usurped supreme control in her life — the rapture of 
 hearing and knowing that he loved her — her own cruel 
 folly in throwing away the happiness — the long days and 
 nights and months of repinings and regrets — the torture 
 of apprehension lest he be killed. Then — that summons 
 in the darkness — that supplicating voice — the out- 
 stretched arms — at the very moment he was lying almost 
 in death agony, alone under the stars — and now — he was 
 there ! " Oh, God ! how merciful ! " she murmered again 
 and again. 
 
 The soflly-shaded lamp was lighted — and still he slept 
 on, the doctor looking in at intervals to see if all was 
 well. A little after eight o'clock he stirred as if 
 about to awaken. Isabel's heart stood still — and then 
 beat so she feared he would hear it. His eyes opened, 
 and he lay calmly looking into space. The doctor 
 entered, quietly felt his pulse and temperature, and said 
 nothing. 
 
 Clayton looked at him a moment in silence, and then 
 said : 
 
 " Where am I ? " 
 
 "At the hospital." 
 
 " I thought so." Then a pause. " How did the battle 
 go to-day ? " 
 
 " They beat us," answered the doctor, knowing what 
 that " to-day " meant. 
 
 Clayton sighed and said nothing. After another 
 pause : 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 325 
 
 " Am I badly hurt? " 
 
 " No ; stunned by a shell." 
 
 "Then I must go on with the old round, eh? I must 
 live on ? 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 Clayton again sighed deeply, and was silent. 
 
 " I am glad I didn't fall into the hands of the enemy," 
 said he, after a long pause. " I suppose my boys took 
 care of me ? " 
 
 The doctor nodded, and there was another silence, as 
 he dropped out medicines and arranged powders. 
 
 " Doctor," said the patient at last, with sudden impul- 
 siveness, " some of those rascally rebels have taken away 
 a small packet, an amulet, which I wore always suspended 
 about my neck. The chain is here all right," said he, 
 putting his hand to his neck, " but the anuilet is gone — 
 and I would rather they had taken my life." 
 
 " I'm sorry for that," said the doctor, dropping the 
 white liquid very steadily into a tumbler. "Now, Miss 
 Plant, some water, please." 
 
 Frank watched him. " I suppose people usually are 
 glad when you bring them to life, eh. Doctor ? " 
 
 " Why, yes, they are," said the doctor. " Miss Plant, 
 give this one first, then the other, every half-hour, until 
 he sleeps ; but don't awaken him on any account." 
 
 Frank's eyes were still fixed upon him. 
 
 " I wonder if you have any medicine which can give a 
 man interest in life — which can create a desire to live." 
 
 The doctor's eyes rested upon his with a strange look 
 of amusement, as he said : " Why, yes ; I think I have 
 precisely that medicine," and witli a look of invitation to 
 the waiting girl, he and Miss Plant quickly left the room, 
 closing the door after them — and — Isabel — ^stood before 
 Frank's bewildered e3'es. 
 
 He gazed at her as one paralyzed — motion and speech 
 impossible — then putting his hand to his head, he said : 
 
 " Am I mad ? " 
 
 " No, no," she said, sinking upon her knees and laying 
 her head upon his breast ; " you are not mad. It is I — 
 it is Isabel. Don't speak — not a Avord," and she lifted 
 her face, placing her finger on his lips, " because you are 
 ill, dear; " and then, with a divinely lovely smile shining 
 through her tears, " and unless you do just as I say I 
 
320 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 shall go away. Now, listen — I've come thousands of 
 miles to tell you something — and I have been thinking all 
 the way — what I should say. So now keep perfectly 
 still and listen." 
 
 Again she laid her head on his breast, where she heard 
 his heart beating so wildly ; then in the same low voice 
 went on : 
 
 " I was very cruel that day when I let you go away 
 alone — very cruel to you, and to myself. I repented when 
 it was too late — and I have been so unhappy — oh ! so 
 miserable, dear — and now — I have come to you — and if 
 you will let me stay — I will never — never — leave you 
 any more." 
 
 " If I will let you stay ? let you stay ? " said he, in a 
 voice suffocating with joy. His arms folded her closer, 
 closer to his heart. " Oh, my dear one, it seems as if 
 I must die with this happiness ! " 
 
 Many times Doctor Crosby and Miss Plant paused out- 
 side that door and listened to the murmur of voices within. 
 At last, as the clock struck ten, the doctor was remorse- 
 less and went in quite as he would make his final evening 
 call upon any other of his patients. 
 
 "Well," he said, brightly smiling at the transformed 
 look in the sick man's face, "I think my prescription 
 has worked pretty well — you don't look as if you wanted 
 to die just this moment." 
 
 "Ah, Doctor," said Clayton, "it vi3.s earth I was tired 
 of, and this,'" turning with a look of unutterable joy 
 toward Isabel, "this is Heaven !" 
 
 The doctor's glasses needed wiping for some reason, 
 and at the same moment he looked about for some one to 
 scold. 
 
 " I suppose. Miss Priest — you — you have not forgotten 
 to give the medicine — one teaspoonful every half- 
 hour?" 
 
 Isabel gave a little cry of alarm as she guiltily sprang 
 to her feet. " What had she done .? " 
 
 " No ? " said the doctor. " Humph — well, I suppose not. 
 I see we shall have to depose you. Now, Miss Plant," 
 turning to that young lady, " I place you in charge, and 
 I want this young man to have at least eight or nine solid 
 hours of sleep to-night — do you hear ? " 
 
THE STORMY PETREL, 327 
 
 "O Doctor," said Clayton, clinging to Isabel's hand, 
 " don't send her away ! " 
 
 Isabel rose resolutely, saying : " You are right, quite 
 right. Doctor." Then stooping, she whispered, " It is 
 better so. Good-night, dear love." And Clayton's eyes 
 hungrily followed her till she had vanished. 
 
 Clayton could hardly realize, when told by the surgeon, 
 that he had been for months unconscious, and that 
 many battles had been fought and won since the 
 engngement of " yesterday " when he fell in the face of 
 the enemy, and passed through their hands to the hos- 
 pital where then he rested. 
 
 There was a feeling of vague curiosity in the hospital 
 the afternoon of the next day at mysterious preparations 
 which were going on in the room of Colonel Clayton. A 
 large basket of flowers and trailing vines was seen to go 
 in there ; and when the chaplain accompanied by the 
 doctor disappeared within, followed soon after by Miss 
 Plant accompanied by Miss Priest, with a cluster of great 
 white roses at her waist and another lying in her beauti- 
 ful dark hair, the closed door was watched by curious and 
 wondering eyes. 
 
 It was even as they suspected, and as Doctor Crosby 
 looked at the girl who sat at the bedside clasping his pa- 
 tient's hand, he thought he had never seen a lovelier 
 bride. 
 
CHAPTER LXIX. 
 
 " Camp near Knoxville, Feb. 8, 186- 
 
 " My Darling Mother : — 
 
 " Here we are at last, at the headquarters of Frank's 
 regiment, where he has come to estabUsh the fact that he 
 is aUve. 
 
 " Such a strange complication has grown out of his re- 
 ported death, and it was like surviving himself to come 
 here and see the vacancy filled — a new officer in com- 
 mand of his regiment, and a long list of promotions 
 which would be made void by his unlooked-for return. 
 
 " There was such a strange scene when he met his 
 friend, Captain Jack — a glorious fellow, with such a 
 brave great honest heart shining out of his deep-blue 
 eyes. Of course he had mourned Frank as dead, and if 
 you could have seen his expression when he beheld him ! 
 and how they embraced like two girls ! And then how 
 that great, manly fellow struggled to control his voice, 
 which would break in spite of his efforts, as he said, ' I 
 am rejoiced to see you, but some of the others will not be 
 so glad, Fm afraid.' 
 
 " The rapidity of Frank's recovery has been almost mi- 
 raculous. But you may imagine my joy in the near ap- 
 proach of peace, which will make it unnecessary for him 
 to be exposed again to such perils. 
 
 " I can scarcely wait for your letter in reply to mine an- 
 nouncing our marriage. But I know perfectly, dearest 
 mother, that you and Roland will approve, and that you 
 will acquiesce in Frank's new plan that you should join 
 us at The Glen, which he has repurchased. Frank's 
 cousin Kate is having the dear old place renovated, under 
 his directions, and we will live in the house so sacred to 
 him, so associated with the mother he adored and the 
 grandfather he so venerated. 
 
 " Only think, we were married with his mother's wedding- 
 ring, which Frank has always worn. Everything was so 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 329 
 
 sudden ; no one liad thought of the ring until just at the 
 last moment. Then Frank took this from his finger, and 
 found it fitted me precisel)'. Oh ! it was all so strange 
 and so beautiful ! And, mother, we are so happy 1 
 " Your more than ever fond daughter, 
 
 " Isabel. Clayton." 
 
 "Willard's Hotel, Washington, April 14, 1865. 
 " My Dear Mother : — 
 
 "We have been here three days, still arranging the 
 tiresome matter about Frank's reported death. Of course 
 he wants his papers certifying to an ' honorable dis- 
 charge,' dated from the close of the war, while they are, 
 in fact, dated by mistake from the time of his injury or. 
 supposed death. It is all such a stupid piece of circum- 
 locution, but will be made right in a day or two, and then 
 we go to New York and await the arrival of Frank's 
 friend Claude ; and after that immediately West. Petrel 
 is with friends of Frank's in St. Louis. Her marriage is, 
 after all, to take place inuiiediately upon Count Davila's 
 arrival, in May. Frank thought they had better wait un- 
 til she is nineteen, but this impetuous fellow sweeps all ob- 
 stacles away. I am sure he must be interesting and that 
 we shall be the best of friends. And as for his Petrella 
 — why, I adore her already. 
 
 " We go to the theatre to-night. I hear the President is 
 to be there, and to tell the truth, it is more to see him 
 than the play that I am going. 
 
 " Your fond daughter, 
 
 " Isabel Clayton. 
 
 "April 15 — I have opened this to add such terrible 
 words ! You will have heard before this reaches you of the 
 awful deed committed last night, and which we witnessed ! 
 Oh ! what a moment it was ! We sat where we could look 
 directly into the President's box. He leaned forward to 
 speak to the young lady sitting in the front of the box. 
 I said, ' Frank, look at him now ; that is just the way he 
 looked that day when he whispered " Tell Colonel Clay- 
 ton I think he ought to be " ' — Before I had uttered the 
 words, there was a flash and a report ; a man leaped 
 wildly from the box to the stage ; and they were holding 
 
330 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 up the President's apparently lifeless form. Then a cry 
 
 and a tumult : 
 
 " ' He's shot ! The President is shot ! ' ^' 
 
 " Oh, my God, what a scene ! Frank placed me in a 
 
 carriage and sent me here, while he waited to learn the 
 
 end. It was one o'clock when he came in with the 
 
 solemn, awful words : 
 
 " ' Isabel, the President is dead ! ' " 
 
CHAPTER LXX. 
 
 Petrel's marriage was fixed for the last day in May. 
 Count Davila was expected to arrive in New York by tlie 
 steamer from Havre about the 5th ; so there Frank and 
 Isabel awaited him, that they might all go West together. 
 It was long since the friends had met, and how much had 
 happened to both since they last looked in each other's 
 eyes ! With what pride and happiness Frank presented 
 his beautiful wife need not be told, nor how her sweet, 
 gracious tact soon captured the enthusiastic Claude, who 
 said : 
 
 " Ah, my friend, it is no wonder you were miserable 
 when you think you have lost this lovely, this glorious 
 woman ! She is magiiijiqiie f You must bring her to Italy 
 to see us, my Petrella and me ; and I will astonish, yes, 
 surprise, those people, when I show them these beautiful 
 Ainericainesr 
 
 The wheels could not turn fast enough to suit the mood 
 of this returning lover; and had Frank not been so fond 
 of her himself, the name of Petrella might have become a 
 weariness before they reached St. Louis, where they were 
 to meet her. But while Claude went immediately on, 
 Frank and Isabel determined to carry out a long-antici- 
 pated plan of stopping, and visiting the old colony of 
 freedmen at what was now known as Claytonville. 
 
 John Stanley and Sam met them at the landing, and 
 there was much to hear and to tell as they drove out to 
 the settlement, which was in a tremendous excitement 
 over the event of the arrival, and no royal visitors could 
 have been treated with more demonstrations of loyalty. 
 Frank was received as a reigning prince and worshipped 
 as a saviour. A holiday was proclaimed, the town dressed 
 with wreaths and triumphal arches, while Uncle Ned 
 headed a procession which met them, and made a speech 
 of welcome; and Aunt Eliza clasped Frank's knees and 
 wept, and kissed the beautiful wife's hands again and 
 again. Never had Isabel imagined such an experience j 
 
332 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 and looking inio her husband's eyes that night she said, 
 with an expression of profound humility : 
 
 " How honored I feel by your love. Your life is de- 
 voted to making others happy — and / thought you 
 were not good enough for me ! What contempt you 
 must have felt for me ! " 
 
 Petrel was waiting for them at the station, and, of 
 course, Claude with her. One carriage seldom holds 
 four people so completely happy as the one which con- 
 veyed them to the hotel that lovely afternoon. 
 
 Frank looked at his ward, actually dazzled by her brill- 
 iant loveliness. 
 
 " Why, Petrel," he said, holding both her hands and 
 looking into her face as they rolled along, " I cannot be- 
 lieve it is you." 
 
 Claude had had a similar surprise on his own arrival, 
 and watched with delight Frank's looks of admiration. 
 
 "It's all because I'm so happy, Uncle Frank," the 
 young girl whispered in his ear; and neither of the others 
 were jealous when he put his arm around her and kissed 
 her on one rosy cheek. 
 
 Petrel and Isabel were close friends in an instant. 
 
 " Wiiat am I to call you ? " said Petrel, shyly. " Aunt 
 Isabel would be so absurd ; yon look like my older sister. 
 And," she said, with a pretty blush, as they stood together 
 in Isabel's room, before dinner, " how beautiful you are! " 
 Then, with her arms encircling her waist, " No wonder 
 Uncle Frank was unhappy ! Why, do you know, dear, it 
 used to break my heart to look into his sad face, and — 
 may I tell you ? And — I did not like you at all — because 
 you had made him suffer so." 
 
 " You dear, frank child," said the young wife, laughing 
 such a gay, happy laugh ; " you could not have thought as 
 bad things of me as I did of myself. But I shall tell you 
 all about it. Ah, there is so much to tell and to hear — 
 and only two short weeks ! " 
 
 " Yes, but you know, Claude will bring me home again 
 next summer, and then, he says, you are coming to visit 
 us next winter. Oh, how beautiful it all is!" and she 
 clasped her hands in a kind of rapture, at the excess of 
 joy which had come into her life. 
 
CHAPTER LXXI. 
 
 But, alas ! these were halcyon hours. That very even- 
 ing Martha, Petrel's faithful maid, was taken ill with a 
 cold. Fever set in ; the doctor came, and pronounced it 
 pneumonia of the most fatal type ; and two days later she 
 breathed her last in Petrel's arms. 
 
 The poor girl was overwhelmed with grief, which even 
 Claude could not console. She reproached herself, think- 
 ing in the preoccupation of her own happiness she had 
 not realized the severity of the cold, and said again and 
 again : " I was selfish ! and perhaps I neglected her." 
 
 With a premonition of her approaching death, Martha 
 had indicated where she wished to be buried ; and there, 
 with many tears, they laid her, with the solemn rites of the 
 Catholic Church. 
 
 The day succeeding the funeral, Petrel busied herself 
 sadly, collecting all her dear nurse's clothing and little 
 treasures, packing them safel}'^ away as something sacred. 
 She stopped to read now and then some letters of her 
 own or her Uncle Frank's, recalling the time and circum- 
 stances with sad retrospection. 
 
 One letter of her uncle's she was about to destroy with 
 others when a line, which she idly read, turned her to 
 stone. It was this : 
 
 " It is but right that you, as her mother, should decide 
 whether this marriage shall take place ; and I shall delay 
 my reply to Count Davila until I hear from you. God 
 forgive me ! but when I saw her place that rosebud in the 
 hand of her dead father, I had bitter thoughts of that 
 cruel man which even death could not efface." 
 
 Petrel could not move, but sat with her eyes fixed upon 
 those cruel words, going over them again and again until 
 they seemed burned into her very brain. 
 
 Then she tried to stand, and supporting herself by the 
 furniture, reached the door and locked and bolted it; then 
 
334 
 
 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 fell prone upon the floor in a paroxysm of despair. She 
 knew not how long she laid there. After a time some one 
 knocked, then tried the door ; and she kept perfectly still. 
 Again she heard a light step outside and Isabel's voice 
 said : 
 
 " Petrel ! Petrel, dear ! " 
 
 But all was still as the grave. It was growing dark, 
 and now there were two persons outside, and her Uncle 
 Frank's voice said : 
 
 " Are you there, Petrel ? " 
 
 What should she do .'' She gathered all her forces, 
 arose, and went to the door. 
 
 " Please, Uncle Frank, do not ask to come in ; I cannot 
 see any one now." 
 
 " Are you ill ? " 
 
 " No ; but I want to be alone. Please go away." 
 
 " But, my child, we are anxious about you." 
 
 " I am not ill ; don't be anxious ; only please let me be 
 alone for a while." 
 
 Her voice sounded so strange to herself ! Later, Isa- 
 bel's again said : 
 
 "Dearest, I have brought you a cup of tea and some 
 toast. I will not come in if you do not want me, but you 
 must take this — for our sakes, dear." 
 
 The door was opened, and a cold little hand received 
 the tray, and drawing it into the room again locked the 
 door. 
 
 But the hardest trial was when she heard the step of 
 her lover. How well she knew it ! 
 
 " Petrella, may I not speak with you ? For just one 
 moment ? You will not deny me that." 
 
 The distracted girl went to the door and said, so that 
 he could just hear it : 
 
 " Claude, if you love me, you will not ask me to see 
 any one to-night." 
 
 She groped her way in the darkness to where the 
 matches were kept, and lighted the gas; then picked up 
 the letter which lay on the floor, and read again the words 
 which had destroyed her happiness forever. What ravages 
 those ten hours of suffering had made already! She 
 smiled bitterly as she saw her reflection in the ghiss. 
 
 " Countess, indeed ! " she said, with scornful emphasis. 
 " / — child of a slave — and then — oh ! the shame of it ! " 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 335 
 
 said she, shuddering, as slie covered her face with her 
 hands. " The shame of it ! Worse than nameless ! I, to 
 be the daughter of the Countess Giuletta ! And some 
 day — when he — when Claude knows — see his cheek 
 crimson with mortitication at his wife's disgrace ! O 
 God, there's no place for me here. I am a blot upon 
 existence. Where shall I go ? What must I do ? — I must 
 think." 
 
 And alone she tried, poor child, to arrange the cruel 
 problem of her existence — sitting, for she knew not how 
 long, motionless — her eyes fixed on space. 
 
 Sometimes in the stillness which now wrapped the hotel 
 she heard a soft footstep outside. Was it the porter — 
 the night watchman — or was it Claude — or Isabel — watch- 
 ing the light streaming through the cracks of her door ? 
 
 At last she got up — opened her desk. "It is the only 
 way," she said ; " the only way," and her trembling 
 hand wrote, folded and directed three letters. One was 
 addressed to Frank Clayton, the other to Claude, and 
 another to 
 
 "John Wilson, 
 
 " Superintendent of Riverview Cemetery, 
 
 " St. Louis, Mo." 
 
 She opened her check-book, and filling out a check put 
 it into the last-named letter. Then, selecting a few things 
 from her wardrobe, packed a small handbag. 
 
 With a trembling hand she unloj:ked a trunk and took 
 out a red Morocco case, with crest and monogram on the 
 cover — she could not resist the temptation — opened it 
 once more and gazed at the two beautiful faces ; then 
 closed it, as if it were a coffin closing upon the dead. 
 
 Another miniature she gazed at with despair and love 
 in her eyes. 
 
 " Why should I not keep that ? Oh, my beloved," she 
 said, bursting into an agony of weeping, "my beloved; 
 you will sufifer too — but it is better so ! " 
 
 The eyes looked out at her so kindl}', that a wild hope 
 came into her heart. She imagined herself telling him, 
 and his saying: "What do I care for that ? Do you not 
 know that nothing could make me give you up ? " She 
 almost felt as if she heard him say these blessed words ; 
 
SS6 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 but no, he was so noble, so honorable ; he might refuse 
 to release her, but none the less he would feel humiliated. 
 No — no — no ; it must all go. Her ring — ah ! that was 
 the hardest — all together, in one package — and then 
 addressed to 
 
 " COUNT CLAUDIUS DAVILLA." 
 
CHAPTER LXXII. 
 
 The gray dawn was creeping into the window, making 
 the gas look sickly and pale. She put it out, and threw 
 herself down upon the bed in utter exhaustion, just as 
 she was, in her dressing-gown. She was awakened by 
 hearing a voice at her door. The room was flooded 
 with brilliant sunlight. It was Isabel. 
 
 " Petrella, darling, I have brought a cup of coffee. 
 Will you let me give it to you ? " 
 
 She rose, and took the tray as before. A dozen rose- 
 buds, fresh, cool, and dewy, lay beside her coffee-cup. 
 Their fragrance smote her with such strange anguish ! 
 
 " May I not come in, dear ? " 
 
 Petrel was about to yield, when she saw the letters and 
 package on her desk. 
 
 " EVear Isabel," she said gently, "please do not think 
 badly of me — but — I cannot let you come in now. Come 
 back in about two hours, and I will see you." 
 
 "Very well, dear. I need not tell you who the flowers 
 are from. Poor fellow I He was out hours ago, before 
 the shops were open, to get them for v-ou." 
 
 Isabel reported to Claude and Frank the promise Petrel 
 had given. 
 
 "And now you must take some breakfast, too," she 
 playfully said to Claude. " I declare, I believe you 
 spent the whole night in that hall, and 3'ou look ill your- 
 self this morning. There, drink this coffee. I assure 
 you, it is just as we told you ; she is simply nervous, and 
 overcome by the shock of Martha's death, and then ar- 
 ranging her things yesterday, revived recollections. She 
 is a tender, sensitive child, and you will have to take 
 good care of her, Claude. You must cherish her care- 
 fully." 
 
 " Ah I will I not ? " said he, smiling rapturously. 
 
 At precisely the time appointed, Isabel returned. She 
 found the door unlocked, and Petrel sitting in an easy- 
 chair, carefully dressed and perfectly calm. 
 
;^^8 THE STORMY PETREL, 
 
 " Why, my darling giil," she said, embracing her. 
 Then looking at her pallid face, her strange, haggard ex- 
 pression, she added, anxiously : " You are making your- 
 self ill, dear ; it is wrong to grieve so ; of course it is nat- 
 ural that you should feel sorrow, but not to give way to it 
 in such excess, Wh}', my child, your hands are like ice. 
 Let me warm them. Did you drink your coffee ? Yes .-' 
 Well, now, for the sake of others, you must be brave ; 
 you must think of Claude's happiness." 
 
 "I am thinking of nothing else," said the miserable 
 girl, hopeless tears coursing down her cheeks. 
 
 " Well, he has been like one distracted, dear ; he has 
 consented at last to drive with us ; we thought it would 
 divert him — and he has ordered some flowers, which we 
 are to place on dear Martha's grave," and she stroked the 
 little hand soothingly. " He thought perhaps you would 
 go too ? — No ? — Well, perhaps it is better not. Now, 
 when we come home," she added, brightly, " you will not 
 shut yourself up here any more, dear ? " 
 
 Petrel shook her head. 
 
 "That's a good child," kissing her. "Remember, one 
 week from to-day is your wedding-day. Why, Petrel — 
 Petrel, what is it, dear .-' " Then, with troubled, question- 
 ing eyes, she added softly, " You are sure, dear, that you 
 love Claude ? " 
 
 " Love him ! More than my own life ! " 
 
 " Well then, dear, there is no reason why all should 
 not be beautiful as a dream ; no reason why you 
 should not be as happy as — as we are. What can I say 
 more than that?" And such a radiant smile shone out 
 upon the hopeless face before her, 
 
 " And now — now — I must go — they are waiting for 
 me," and she kissed the young girl, who clung to her with 
 a strange intensity. As she reached the door she looked 
 back with another bright smile : 
 
 " Remember, no more locking of doors." 
 
 " No," 
 
 " You promise ? " 
 
 " Yes, I promise." 
 
CHAPTER LXXIII. 
 
 The day was beautiful beyond description, and the 
 breath of flowers and the promise of near joys of summer 
 dissipated all thoughts of sadness, as they drove back in the 
 open landau. The river flowed majestically in its turbid 
 splendor, and as they watched the out-going steamer, with 
 its freight, Claude thought with supreme gladness that 
 after one more week he and Petrella would be on board 
 of that same vessel, on their way to St. Paul ! 
 
 Arriving at the hotel, Isabel said : 
 
 " Now, Frank, you go, and bring Petrel to our room, 
 and Claude and I will wait for her there." 
 
 Frank Clayton went with glad step to the door, tapped 
 lightly, and without waiting, entered. It was empty. He 
 looked about, with a feeling of bewilderment, and con- 
 spicuously placed on the desk, saw two letters, addressed, 
 as we already know, to himself and Claude. 
 
 His hand could scarcely break the seal. An awful 
 prescience of calamity paralyzed him. From the opened 
 letter dropped another — a folded piece of paper; he saw 
 his own handwriting. "Good God ! " he uttered, as with 
 horror he read the words he had written to Martha — then 
 the following: 
 
 "■ My Dear, Dear, Good Guardian and Friend : — 
 
 "My dream of happiness is over. You have been 
 like an angel to me — you and your beautiful wife. 
 But I must go ; there is no other wa3% I have 
 thought and thought, and I can see no escape but in 
 effacing my wretched existence. It would be easy to 
 end it all — but — I cannot do that — God save me from 
 that sin ! I love Claude too much to bring this shame 
 upon him. So, farewell ! Try to think kindly of 
 
 " Your unhappy 
 
 " Petrel." 
 
 Claude and Isabel waited ; and when Clayton returned 
 
340 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 with that terrible loolc in his face they were smitten with 
 vague terror. 
 
 "She's not there— read those," he gasped; and thrust- 
 ing the letters into Claude's hand, he seized his hat and 
 ran in wild haste down-stairs. 
 
 Claude was too bewildered at first to understand 
 fully — then uttered a cry of pain, as if mortally wounded, 
 and rushed like a madman afier Clayton, whom he met 
 returning. 
 
 " Where is she ? '* said he, seizing his arm. 
 
 "Just as I supposed ; she was on that steamer. Come, 
 we can overtake her." 
 
 In another moment the two men were driving furiously 
 toward the river. A small steamboat had just landed her 
 passengers ; and five minutes later they were on the 
 bosom of the great stream they had idly watched a half- 
 hour ago — in pursuit of the out-going steamer. More 
 and more steam was put on, in answer to their entreaties; 
 and in an hour they could see the vessel ahead of them. 
 Nearer, nearer, they came, until they could distinguish 
 people moving about her deck. On, on, they went, silent, 
 and intent only upon the looming object in front of them. 
 The sun was sinking in dying splendor, when suddenly 
 there seemed an excitement upon the deck of the steamer, 
 and oh, horror ! there was smoke rising out of the hatchway. 
 A moment later her head was turned toward the shore. 
 The increasing volume of dense smoke, with red tongues 
 of flame, shot forth, showing the conflagration must have 
 been well under way before discovered. 
 
 The pursuing vessel was now near enough to distin- 
 guish, individuals amid the wild confusion which prevailed 
 upon the upper-deck of the doomed steamer. 
 
 "There she is! There she is!" cried Claude, wildly; 
 and, stretching out his arms, called, " Petrella ! O my 
 Petrella ! " 
 
 Yes, it was she, standing by the rail, her long gray veil 
 floating in the wind, her eyes fastened upon the little 
 boat, and her face fixed and white as if frozen. 
 
 " We come for you, my Petrella. You are safe ! " said 
 Claude, wildlv waving to her. "Do not flee from me! 
 Come, come ! " and he held out his arms. 
 
 They could not hear the cry of recognition, but as she 
 extended her arms, as if in supplication, the look of 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 34 1 
 
 despair melted into an expression of Iiope and almost of 
 rapture ; and as she folded her hands tightly across her 
 heart, she eagerly bent forward, as if to read what was in 
 those two faces she had never hoped to see again. So 
 intent was this gaze, she seemed not to heed the flames, 
 whose breath she must have felt now. 
 
 " Stay where you are ! " shouted the men. " We will 
 save you ! " 
 
 At that moment a gust of wind caught up a billowy 
 mass of smoke and flame, and swept it right across the 
 spot where she stood. Through it they saw something 
 which looked like a bird with outstretched wings descend- 
 ing into the water. 
 
 The black, lurid waves rolled slowly away, but they 
 seemed to have swallowed up Petrella. She was gone. 
 When she felt the fiery breath of that sheet of smoke and 
 flame, she had sought refuge in the water. Swift as 
 thought the small boat was lowered, and three men were 
 in it, silent, horror-stricken, as, with oars bending under 
 the strain, they shot toward the spot which had engulfed 
 her. Once she had risen to the surface, and now a 
 second time they saw her come up from the cruel depths 
 into the fading sunlight. 
 
 Strong arms caught her and drew her into the boat. 
 There was no sign of life in the form Claude clasped in 
 almost delirious joy. Back they went to the waiting 
 steamboat, carrying tenderly their precious burden. 
 
 Restoratives were applied. " 'Tain't no use," the cap- 
 tain said, pointing to a slight contusion on the temple. 
 " That's what done it. She hit somethin' floatin' in the 
 water." 
 
 He was right : there was no use. The poor, tired heart 
 made one or two faint attempts to take up its work, then 
 stopped, Petrella was dead ! 
 
 Again the great hotel was enshrouded in darkness, 
 excepting only the long, dimly-liglited halls. Again the 
 young girl was back in her own room, not wringing her 
 hands and uttering piteous ejaculations, but lying upon 
 her bed, and oh, so white and still ! That soft, lace- 
 trimmed gown was made by Martha's loving hands, and 
 many visions of her darling's happiness were wrought into 
 its snowy folds ; and now she lies within it cold and still. 
 
342 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 There was no more to be done. Isabel had dismissed 
 her attendants, and sank, exhausted with weeping, into a 
 chair — the same in which she had seen the poor child, a 
 few hours ago. The door opened, and the two men 
 entered, Clayton half-supporting his friend, who, with a 
 wild, heart-rending cry, sank down by the side of the bed. 
 
 Appalled by his frenzied grief, Isabel clung affrighted 
 to her husband. 
 
 "Dearest," he whispered, "you must not witness this. 
 It is too terrible," and placing his arm about her, drew 
 her tenderly out of the room, softly closing the door upon 
 Claude and his dead bride. 
 
CHAPTER LXXIV. 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 A GREAT eclipse had fallen upon their joy. Still the 
 roses bloomed brightly at The Glen that summer ; the 
 trees waved their pliant branches in languorous rapture 
 in the breeze ; and the sun shone just as gladly as if its 
 rays did not fall on that freshly-sodded mound. 
 
 There were glad hearts when the gentle mother and 
 Roland came from the Pacific Coast. 
 
 Kate Fletcher, who now occupied Beechwood, her old 
 home, and Isabel became the dearest of friends, and the 
 attachment which swiftly ripened between Roland and 
 the fair young Katrine knit their hearts together by a new 
 bond under the genial rays of a Kentucky sun. 
 
 At last Kate knew why Frank Clayton had so persist- 
 ently defeated her desire to meet Petrel : the tragic fate 
 of the poor child was so intertwined with all the threads 
 of her sad story, he could no longer conceal it. But time 
 had softened early resentments and grief, and none 
 mourned the loss of the beautiful Petrella more than 
 Bernard Fletcher's widow. 
 
 Letters, heart-rending letters, came from Claude, from 
 Sorrento. His grief was beyond earthly consolation. 
 
 " Do you know, Frank," Isabel said, " I should not be 
 at all surprised if dear Claude should take orders in a 
 monastery. He is devout, and he is hopelessly wretched ; 
 so what is more natural ?" 
 
 It seemed like old times to have Ned and Eliza there ; 
 for, much as they loved Claylonville, those two devoted 
 people would come back to the old place when they found 
 "Mars Frank " was going to make it his home. 
 
 As Clayton sat dreaming upon the piazza, he heard 
 Eliza say, " Miss Belle, you see dat big apple-tree over 
 yonder? Well, dat's just whar Mars Frank stood on his 
 pony, all mixed up wid de blossoms dat day, when I 
 called Miss Fanny to come and look at him." 
 
344 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 Her young mistress was always a willing listener to 
 such reminiscences, especially when they were about 
 " Miss Fanny " and " Mars Frank " ; and, as their voices 
 were lost in the distance, Frank thought of his mother, 
 and then of the present ; and a great peace settled upon 
 his heart. 
 
 He recalled his childhood, his grief at his mother's 
 death, the dawning sense of the injustice of slavery as he 
 grew older, the atrocities committed upon Ned, the strug- 
 gles with his uncle and Bernard, and finally the manu- 
 mission and colonization of his negroes. 
 
 Then recollections both bright and sad crowded upon 
 him, as he saw Isabel, Petrel, Duvall, John Brown — 
 the struggle in Kansas — the four years of horrible fratrici- 
 dal strife — drifted past his mental vision. How much 
 sutTering there had been ! What hours terrible to endure, 
 what moments which were burnt into his brain I And 
 then, what joy, what peace ! And as he looked up, and 
 saw his wife coming through the trees, beautiful, fresh, 
 and lovelier than the flowers on her breast, a great wave 
 of gladness swept over him. 
 
 Slie was holding in her hand a long envelope which 
 she gave to her husband, saying : " Kate's maid has just 
 brought this from her mistress at Beech wood. I told her 
 to wait, as it might need a reply." 
 
 Frank opened the package which contained some folded 
 sheets of foolscap, and a half sheet of note-paper. 
 
 Was that Kate's writing ? He examined its broken, 
 tremulous lines in surprise and wonder. 
 
 "Read this. It has just come addressed to papa, 
 evidently sent by some one unaware of his death. My 
 God ! what does it all mean ? Unhappy girl ! And I — I 
 brought much added suffering into her life ! God forgive 
 me, and all of us ! Too late — too late for reparation now I 
 
 " Kate." 
 
 Amazed and bewildered by these incoherent words, 
 Frank opened the long, soiled sheets covered with 
 strange scrawling characters, and read as follows : 
 
 " The following is the sworn statement of Ben 
 Baugh niade in view of his approaching death." 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 345 
 
 " I swear to God, that the story i am goin ter tell is 
 trew. 
 
 " In the 3'ear 1S4- Thomas Hawks cum to me one day 
 and sed he had a job that wud pay him a big jiile er 
 money, but he must have sumbody to help him, an if i 
 cud keep a silent tung in my head, he'd go snacks with 
 me. Well, the long and short of it wuz, i sed i wud ; then 
 he tole me how a great swell over in Ital}'^ wanted ter gil 
 rid of a kid, that there was a big fortune which wud cum 
 to him, if she wuz out er ther way, caus he wuz next er 
 Kin, i never knowd jest how much Swag Hawks was to 
 git, but he promised me 5000 dollars if i helped him threw 
 and got ther gurl in New Orleans all rite, where i cud sell 
 her easy, and the money fur the sale was throwd in for 
 my shair, caus he didn't want ter have nothink ter do with 
 it on this side ther water, so i went into ther cussed biz- 
 ness. It took a mity deal of plannin and waiiin and a 
 deal of money, too, but the swell over in Italy he lixed 
 that all rite. 
 
 " I went over there and wuz nigh onto a year hangin 
 round and waiiin, fust in Rome then in Sorento, where 
 they had a house big as the City Hall, with grounds 
 like a park and fountens and white statures and windin 
 walks and fellers with red coats trimmed with gold lace, a 
 hangin round the big portico all the time, and when the 
 kid cum out to play ther wuz nurses with caps and ribands 
 runnin after her every miimit. So agin and agin we slipt 
 up, till it looked like we never wud git a chants at hur, but 
 wun day, she cum dartin down the side of the hege aloan, 
 and quickern a flash, i clapt my big coat over hur, and 
 stopt hur mouth with my hand so she cudnt screem, and 
 in 2 seconds we wuz in a carriage an in 2 minnits more we 
 wuz outer site. It makes me kinder sick to think about 
 that baby how she took on that day, it seem'd like shed go 
 inter fits, then she got wore out, and laid kinder stupid 
 like, we had her safe on board ship that nite. An italyan 
 woman with a red hankerchuft tide round hur hed and 
 big gold hoops in hur eers took her on bord and made 
 out like it wuz hur own baby. Nobody suspected, cause 
 all hur fine close wuz took off and hur long curls cut 
 short. I uset to feel sorry for the pore little thing, she 
 moaned and moaned fit to brake yur hart, and wud call 
 Madra}\ Madray, and then the woman wud giv her suth- 
 
34^ THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 ing oulen a bottle an shed quiut down agin and go off 
 sorter stoopid like, she got so thin her own muther vvodnt 
 er knowd hur, and i thout shed dj^e, i wish now i had tola 
 the hole cussed story wen we got to New Orleans and let 
 Hawks do his wust — dam him — wen we got to New 
 Orleans i put her on a plantation whair a frend of mine 
 wuz overseer, so shed play with the little niggers and git 
 to be jest like them in hur ways, but she never did a mite. 
 She wuz only 3 years old but she knowd hur own name, 
 and wen ennybody called her Martha she wud stamp hur 
 little foot and say no, no, Cecilia, til she foun she got a 
 beatin evry time she dun it, and at last she giv up and 
 dursnt say Cecilia no more, but that wuz hur name, and 
 the name of the cove that got rid of hur and got her for- 
 tune is — 1 forgit it now, but i think it is Valerias and he 
 lived near Sorento, And all i hope iz that this iznt 
 too late to have hur rites given to hur, and that blak 
 harted villin punisht for what he dun to hur, and fur git- 
 ten me into a scrape witch has ruind mi life fur i aint had 
 a minnits peace sence i dun it. Wunst in New Orleans, 
 nigh onto 10 years after i went to the theatur and seen 
 jest sutch a grate White Cassle and grouns and flunkies 
 standin round drest in red coats and silk stockins, and i 
 bolted outer that theatur zif i wuz shot. Well to continue 
 mi story — i took her up to the slave market at New 
 Orleans long with a likely wench pritty nye white who 
 wuz goin ter be sold. An she vowed to Mr. Stanly who 
 took a grate fancv to the child that twas hur gurl but she 
 sed, she hopd hed buy hur caus he lookt like hed be kind 
 to hur, the minnit he clapt eyes on her he sed, thals jest 
 wot i want fur a present fur mi Kate, i tole him the price 
 an he pade it rite down and went off with ther gurl pleased 
 as ennything, i knowd the woman was savin up money to 
 by hur freedom to jine hur husband whod run away 
 north, so I tole hur if she helpt me this way and made out 
 the girl wus hurs, i wud give hur a 20 dollar gold peace, 
 an i dun it too, hur name is Ofelia Jonson, and if you cood 
 find her shed tell yer this is God's truth that i'm tellin, 
 hur husband wuz coachmen to a rich swell in the north 
 somewhar, an i guess she jined him thair if she didnt die, 
 fur she was mity determind and wuz sot on goin so that 
 wuz all i knowd about the gurl til more an 15 years after, 
 wen i met Hawks on a steamer comin down the river and 
 
THE STORMY PETREL. 347 
 
 he was in mity high sperrits about a gurl hed jist bought. 
 Somehow i found outsheuset to belong to Jedge Stanly of 
 Kentucky — and i jumpt 6 feet — " by God," I sed, " Hawks, 
 do you know who she is ? " — " No," he sed — " what do you 
 mean ? " — " Take a good look at hur," sez i, "does she look 
 much like a nigger ! — do you know who i sold that italian 
 kid to 15 years ago? to Jedge Stanly of Kentucky." 
 Hawks turned wite as a sheet. " You don't say so," he sez, 
 kinder scart, then he watched her, and walked roun her a 
 good menny times eyeing hur, an i saw him go up and 
 talk to hur in a soft kinder coaxin way an i knowd what 
 he was plannin, the scoundril, an i sed, sez i, " Tom 
 Hawks, if you harm that gurl or her baby i'll tell the hole 
 damd story, cuss me if i don't," an he sed, "Don't you 
 tryter bluster round me, Ben, your deeper in it than i am." 
 Well i lost site of hur after that, i wisht i hadnt, i wisht i 
 had braved him, the bully, but i didn't, and after he wuz 
 dead i dazn't tell mi part in it, but now its out, and may 
 God have mercy on mi sole and forgive this wickid deed 
 as i am expectin soon to die. 
 
 " Ben Baugh. 
 " Witnessed 
 
 " James Ferguson. 
 
 "Sarah Miller." 
 
 Was it strange that Isabel and Kate wept, and that 
 Clavton's heart was torn and wrung as he came to under- 
 stand the cruel circumstances which had brought about 
 such tragic results ? What would he not have given to 
 have brought back life to those two beings lying 
 cold and still under the sod ; to have been able to tell 
 them the tidings contained in this dying confession ; to 
 have made late reparation to that gentle woman who had 
 served them as a menial, while all the time there was 
 patrician blood in her veins ! Oh, it was cruel ! And to 
 have said to her daughter: " Lift up your head, my child. 
 You do not belong to a despised race. Your blood \snot 
 tainted. Your husband's family, proud though they be, 
 need not fear to have it mingle with their own." 
 
 But it was too late. The curtain had dropped on 
 mother and child. 
 
 There was but one thing to be done now. Clayton sat 
 down to the task with a heavy heart, and the outgoing 
 
34^ THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 mail carried to Claude the whole harrowing story. He 
 knew well the wild yearnings and regrets it would awaken. 
 But it must be done. 
 
 Then they waited for the wailing cry of anguish which 
 was sure to come back from the Italian shores. 
 
 Grief, vain regrets and despair were poured out upon 
 the closely-written pages which soon came as they ex- 
 pected. Then with beating hearts Clayton, Isabel, and 
 Kate Hetcher read these words : 
 
 "You ask if I heard of this abduction years ago. Alas! 
 Who did not hear of it.-" Was not all Italy talking about 
 it ? So my mother has often told me, and people are yet 
 wondering and wondering ; for they are a family tres ex- 
 alte'e, very distinguished, and the little girl had very large 
 estates. 
 
 "And now it turns out that it was all the work of that 
 monster, that assassin. He ruined my father's life, and 
 broke his heart ; and now it was he who planned this 
 devilish, fiendish plot. He it was who employed those 
 men to steal the child. Only think, if I have not reason 
 to curse him ! My Petrella ! My Petrella ! Think you I 
 should not call him assassin? — Such grief, such shame — 
 when there was no cause ! Oh, my God! All my life I 
 heard about this event. The disappearance of this child. 
 Her mother became insane and died in one year. Thev 
 thought the little girl must have strayed to the waters' 
 edge and slipped in. No one suspected him, for was he 
 not far away ? — up the river Nile with some friends ? The 
 cunning monster ! And, when they wrote him the intel- 
 ligence, was he not so grieved the)' felt almost sorry for 
 him when he came back all dressed in deep black, and 
 took possession of her estates ? Ah yes, he played his 
 part well ! 
 
 " And now, my dear, dear friends, I have only one thing 
 to ask, and I ask it on my knees. It will be the only 
 consolation which can come to me before I join her. 
 Will you permit the dear remains of my beloved — my bride 
 — to come here with her mother's and rest, as they should, 
 in the tomb of their ancestors .-' It is a fair spot, looking 
 out on the Mediterranean. Will this not be one act of 
 justice to the mother who was cruelly torn from this same 
 place ? If you will grant my prayer, I will go once more to 
 
THE STORiMY PETREL. 349 
 
 your land and I will bring home my bride. — But oh ! My 
 God ! How different from my hopes ! How can I bear 
 this ! Do you not pity my suffering, my despair ?" 
 
 "I think I should have killed myself in these last days 
 but for one thing. ]\Iy Church has saved me that, and 
 will be my refuge when my darling's ashes are finally laid 
 away." 
 
 Long and earnest were the conferences over this 
 appeal. However painful to their own feelings, Kate and 
 Isabel strongly advised that it be done. 
 
 "It is the only way now in which anything approaching 
 restoration to their rights can be effected," urged Isabel. 
 So it was decided. 
 
 A few weeks later Claude arrived. 
 
 What ravages those monihs had made I Pale — hag- 
 gard — a look of intense suffering in his eyes, they felt 
 inexpressibly shocked at the change. 
 
 It was with many misgivings that they turned their 
 faces toward St. Louis. How would he endure such 
 cruel tearing open of his wound ? But an awful calm 
 seemed to have taken possession of him. 
 
 They went to the same hotel. With what terrible 
 vividness the events leading to the tragedy arose before 
 them ! Again they drove to the Cemetery, as on that 
 fatal day, and in iDewildered surprise beheld, at the head 
 of the mother's grave a simple, white marble cross, on 
 which was inscribed only: 
 
 MY MOTHER. 
 
 June 30th., 1865. 
 
 Had she come back to pay this last tribute to that 
 mother } When was it done ? 
 
 It was on a beautiful autumnal day that the ashes of 
 the child who was stolen away years ago, touched once 
 more the soil of her native home, and the promised bride 
 of Claude reposed under the olive-trees, in the land of 
 their happy dreams. 
 
 Finis, 
 

 RARE BOOK 
 COLLECTION 
 
 
 
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