THE UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 THE WILMER COLLECTION 
 
 OF CIVIL WAR NOVELS 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 RICHARD H. WILMER, JR. 
 
S^M^goLLEcnm 
 
Digitized by tine Internet Arcliive 
 
 in 2010 witli funding from 
 
 University of Nortli Carolina at Chapel Hill 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/hughdarnabystoryOOdavi 
 
HUGH D ARN AB Y 
 
 A STORY OF KENTUCKY 
 
 BY 
 
 GARKETT MOEROW DAVIS 
 
 WASHINGTON, D. 0.: 
 
 GIBSON BROS., PUBLISHERS. 
 
 1900. 
 
copybight, 1900. 
 By Gabbett Moeeow Datis. 
 
JUST A WORD. 
 
 I wish to inscribe this little story to the 
 friends of a younger generation which I 
 have made in later years, from both north 
 of the beautiful Ohio and from south of the 
 southern line of Kentucky, as well as to the 
 young men and maidens of my native and 
 well-beloved State, in the hope that it may 
 prove of some historical value to them all, 
 as most of the incidents therein narrated are 
 founded on fact, and also in the further hope 
 that a more intimate acquaintance with the 
 every-day life of my people will enable those 
 from other States to better understand them, 
 and that in consequence thereof we may be- 
 come yet closer friends. 
 Sincerely, 
 
 Gakkett Mobrow Davis. 
 
 r:: o O O o r-» 
 
 »> O riw Ac ('•.,• O 
 
OOKTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 INTEODtrCING MT HEEO, . 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 A TYPICAL COUNTRY HOME IN KENTUCKY, . . 16 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE DANCE AT PENDLETON's, ..... 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 HUGH BIDS HIS MOTHEB FAREWELL AND LEAVES FOE 
 THE AEMY, 
 
 26 
 
 44 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 ME. PENDLETON AND ME. DARNABY LEAVE HOME AT 
 
 THE APPROACH OF THE CONFEDERATES, . . 55 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 morgan's RAIDERS VISIT THE DARNABY PLACE, . 64 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 TOM DARNABY'S RIDE, ...... 73 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 HUGH IS WOUNDED, PAYS HIS MOTHER A VISIT, AND 
 
 LITTLE BLACK MILLY WINS A RACE, ... 82 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE BATTLE OF PEEBYVILLE IS FOUGHT, THE NEGROES 
 ARE EMANCIPATED, THE WAR IS OVER, AND HUGH 
 COMES HOME, ....... 98 
 
6 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 COUNTY COUBT DAT IN KENTUCKY. HUGH STUDIES 
 
 LAW, 118 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 AN EXCITING ELECTION, AT WHICH HUGH ASSISTS IN 
 
 PBEVENTING TEOUBLE, 133 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 HUGH MAKES HIS MAIDEN SPEECH, .... 153 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 HUGH DAENABY AND ANNIE CAESON MEET APTEB 
 
 YEAB8 OF SEPAEATION, 172 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 MBS. CAESON DECIDES TO BENT A COTTAGE FOE THE 
 
 SUMMEE IN THE TOWN NEAB HEB OLD HOME, . 195 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 IN WHICH IS GIVEN A DESCEIPTION OF THE COUNTY 
 
 FAIE, 218 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 A SCENE AT THE COTTAGE, 226 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 IN WHICH HUGH DAENABY EECEIVES HIS BEWAED, . 238 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 IN WHICH THE BEADEE IS INTEODUCED TO TOM BOWL- 
 ING, THE CELEBBATED EACE HOESE, AND IN WHICH 
 OUB STOEY CLOSES, 243 
 
HUGH DARNABY. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 INTRODUCING MY HERO. 
 
 ^T^HE October days had come. In Central 
 Kentucky, as a general thing, the 
 month of October is very beautiful. 
 
 On one of these days, perched upon the 
 " bars " which, when up, served to close the 
 entrance to the field in which he had been 
 working, from the lane leading to the house, 
 sat Hugh Darnaby. 
 
 He was the "young gentleman" of the 
 family, though not so young either, as time 
 goes, for he had fully lived out five and 
 twenty years. 
 
 Like the sons of many of the farmers in 
 Kentucky, though they were comfortably 
 fixed as far as this world's goods are con- 
 
8 HV OH DARNAB T. 
 
 cerned, Hugh Darnaby had his share of the 
 work to do. 
 
 And now, as the sun was about to hide 
 itself behind yonder hill he had quit work, 
 and was resting awhile before proceeding to 
 the house. 
 
 The war between the States had been go- 
 ing on since the early spring. The " boys " 
 from almost all the neighborhood had en- 
 listed on the one side or the other in the 
 great struggle. His own brothers, two of 
 them there were older than himself, had 
 espoused the Union cause, and had gone 
 forth to do battle for it. 
 
 Al. Grigsby, living, when at home, on the 
 
 adjoining farm, had joined Capt. C 's 
 
 company, raised in the county, and had 
 already fought 'neath the " old flag." 
 
 Bill Johnston, whose father's place lay 
 surrounding the school house over there in 
 sight, had taken his gun and horse and was 
 now riding with Morgan, later known as the 
 Confederate general John H. Morgan. 
 
 ^' 
 
HUGH DARNABT. 9 
 
 Still there were a few youDg men left, and 
 among them Hugh Darnaby. 
 
 When the report of the first gun had 
 sounded over Charleston harbor his heart 
 had leapt to his mouth ; the martial fire had 
 burned very brightly in his breast, and he 
 then had a great desire to go and be a sol- 
 dier. 
 
 But which way ? The question had been 
 troubling him ever since, and so far he had 
 drifted further and further away from finding 
 a satisfactory answer to it. 
 
 Mr. Darnaby, Hugh's father, was a Union 
 sympathizer, but was past the military age, 
 and the mother prayed and plead not to 
 lose her youngest son — her latest born. 
 
 She knew the doubt that was troubling 
 Hugh's mind, if the father did not, and she 
 said and did everything in her power to de- 
 fer, if not to prevent, a determination on his 
 part. 
 
 She was not a selfish woman by any 
 means, but she was a loving mother. She 
 
10 HUGH DARNABY. 
 
 had given her two older boys to the service 
 of her country, sending them off with her 
 blessing, with tears and with many prayers 
 for their safety. 
 
 And was she to be called upon to give up 
 this one too — her youngest, and the only 
 one left to her ? It was too much. Besides 
 she had a fear that Hugh might not decide 
 as his father would wish, and as she might 
 wish also. Then she urged that some one 
 was needed to overlook the business of the 
 farm. Father was not as strong as he once 
 was, and was beginning to grow old. 
 
 Hugh had thought of all this, too. As I 
 have said, there were a few of the boys left 
 at home, a sufficient number of them to act 
 as " partners " to the girls at the occasional 
 dances given in the neighborhood, and there 
 was one to be given at neighbor Pendleton's 
 that evening. 
 
 As he sat upon the " bars " Hugh took 
 from his pocket a newspaper, and read very 
 intently for a few moments a great battle 
 
HUGH DARNABY. H 
 
 had been fought ; then casting the paper 
 aside, he sat thinking, not heeding that the 
 slight breeze carried the columns of the 
 news to the most secret places of nature. 
 Perhaps he was dreaming. It struck him 
 with almost irresistible force that two ques- 
 tions must be decided by him this evening. 
 One was, should he go to the party at the 
 Pendletons? the other, should he join the 
 army, and, if so, which army? 
 
 These two questions were to be answered 
 in the order named, for the answer to the 
 one depended, in great measure, upon that 
 of the other. 
 
 Hugh had been twitted in the neighbor- 
 hood more than once in the last few 
 months on account of his staying at home 
 while the other boys had gone to the war, 
 and by none more sharply than by sweet, 
 witching Annie Pendleton, to whom this 
 party was to be given by her father and 
 mother to-night. 
 
 By the by, Hu^h thought a great deal 
 
12 HUOH DARNABT. 
 
 of tljis young lady. In fact, he had watched 
 her at church, at home, and at the dancing 
 parties ; had seen her gliding, gracefully, 
 through the figures of the lanciers, and he 
 had been her partner often. 
 
 He had listened to her sweet voice as it 
 rose and fell in melody, and filled every 
 nook and corner of the old church. He 
 had seen her grow up from a sweet, chubby- 
 faced little girl into a beautiful woman. He 
 had envied the winds that played with her 
 brown ringlets and tossed them from her 
 fair forehead. 
 
 He had looked into her soft, brown eyes, 
 until he knew that he loved her. Loved 
 her not with a passing fancy, but loved her 
 with all his heart. 
 
 And it was a manly heart, though not as 
 yet much tried. Nothing of that lore had 
 been spoken between them, but she knew. 
 How could she help seeing the love that 
 " grew " from his eyes — soulful eyes — and 
 grown so sad of late ? 
 
HUGH DARNAB T. 13 
 
 The sun had sunk into peaceful rest by 
 this time behind the hill. The beautiful, 
 the peaceful day was dying. The shadows 
 of the trees, induced by the rays of the 
 full moon, had come to sport themselves in 
 the fields. 
 
 The faithful cows, after " cupping time," 
 were turning into the pasture. Here and 
 there the buzz of a beetle could be heard as 
 once more it rose to wing after having flown 
 headlong against the rails of the fence. 
 
 It was then that Hugh climbed down 
 from his seat on the " bars," and shaking 
 himself as one waking from a dream, walked 
 toward the house. 
 
 When he reached it, he found his mother 
 standing in the porch waiting for him. 
 Supper had been ready for some time. She 
 had been uneasy about him for some days 
 past. 
 
 She had noticed that he went about his 
 work in an abstracted and unusually listless 
 manner, and that often it was necessary to 
 
14 HUOH DARNABT. 
 
 address him more than once in order to at- 
 tract his attention in conversation. She 
 much feared that his doubts as to his leav- 
 ing home and joining the army were about 
 to be dissipated. And when he said, as he 
 approached her, " Mother I have made up 
 my mind to go," her cheek blanched, and 
 her heart seemed to stand still for a moment, 
 ere he proceeded — " to the party to-night." 
 
 Hugh Darnaby, like a great many of the 
 " country boys " of comfortable means in 
 that section of the State, owned a buggy and 
 horse. In this instance the animal was a 
 beautiful blooded bay, what is known in 
 Kentucky as a " combined " horse, that is, 
 he was both " gaited," trained for the saddle, 
 and also to work in harness. 
 
 It is the first and one of the highest am- 
 bitions of most country-bred young men in 
 the " Blue Grass " region to become the 
 owner of a new buggy and trotter. No 
 young man in society was fully equipped 
 without both. 
 
HUGH DABNABT. 15 
 
 Jim, who by the by, was known also as 
 Jim Darnaby, the colored boy about the 
 place, being near the same age as Hugh, — a 
 little younger perhaps, and who was very 
 fond of Mars Hugh, — and of whom Mars 
 Hugh was rather fond, in about an hour 
 after "brought " the horse and buggy around 
 to the "stiles," and Hugh, after kissing his 
 mother "good night," jumped in and drove 
 off. Many a " coon hunt " Mars Hugh and 
 Jim had had together. 
 
16 HUOH DARNABY. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 A TYPICAL COUNTRY HOME IN KENTUCKY. 
 
 The farm of the Pendletons was only 
 about a mile down the road in the direction 
 of town, and Hugh's trotter soon took him 
 to their gate. 
 
 It was a dear old place, this home of the 
 Pendletons. It had been in their family 
 since not a great while after Daniel Boone 
 came to Kentucky. It was a very typical 
 "Old Kentucky Home," in the country, 
 with its half dozen graceful elms in the 
 yard. 
 
 The house stood about a quarter of a 
 mile from the road, back in the yard, the 
 front portion of which was dotted here and 
 there with hardy rose bushes. The drive 
 through the yard ran straight up alongside 
 of the fence on one side until it made a 
 
HUGH DARNABT. 17 
 
 turn just in front of the house, which was 
 a two-storied brick, with a long porch 
 extending across the entire front. A wide, 
 airy hallway, with rooms and communicating 
 doors on either side, was one of the features 
 of the building. To the left and in the 
 curve formed by the turn of the driveway 
 was a grove of locust trees, and as it 
 wound around the house to the back prem- 
 ises, this drive passed between two rows of 
 hollyhock bushes. In the back lot, through 
 which ran a brooklet starting from a spring 
 in the corner of the same lot, stood the 
 negro quarters. Not so extensive were they 
 as those seen further south, but at this time 
 accommodating some half dozen families. 
 Each having its little patch of garden, and 
 some with late autumn flowers of the hardier 
 kind growing up to their front doors. The 
 spring house, too, stood in this lot, with its 
 pans of cream-covered milk and its patties 
 of fresh, sweet butter. Oh, how delightful 
 it was to go into this spring house on a hot 
 
18 HUGH DARNAB7. 
 
 summer day and drink the cool milk taken 
 from the pan which had been half sub- 
 merged in the cool water. 
 
 To-night as Hugh Daruaby drew up at 
 the hitching rack and handed the reins to 
 the boy waiting to attend to the horses of 
 the guests as they arrived, he slipped a 
 piece of money into his hand, which the 
 boy received with a broad grin and a " thank 
 yer. Mars Hugh." 
 
 The windows of the house were brightly 
 lighted, and Hugh caught a glimpse of the 
 fat old darkey cook in the kitchen through 
 a side window, with her best and cleanest 
 headkerchief on her head, directing " the 
 girls," who were carrying the eatables to 
 the dining-room. And he knew, for such 
 was the custom on such occasions, that a 
 bounteous repast would be spread for the 
 guests before the night was far spent. 
 These people had not felt the effects of the 
 war. 
 
 The Pendletons were staunch Union 
 
HUGH DARNABT. 19 
 
 people, and old man Pendleton was very 
 bitter against anyone who held opposite 
 sentiments. Hugh knew this, and it added 
 to his perplexitj while endeavoring to make 
 up his mind as to what course he should 
 pursue. For it must be confessed that it 
 was, in great measure, his love for Annie 
 Pendleton, and his fear that he might lose 
 her, that kept him vacillating between two 
 opinions. He could not brook her con- 
 tempt, which he surely would have if he 
 stayed at home much longer, and he feared 
 to lose her if he left, for he had reasoned 
 thus with himself while thinking deeply 
 intently on the matter : 
 
 "If I go with the South her father will 
 consider me a rebel and a traitor. Perhaps 
 she will also — and, then, all will be over 
 between us. God knows that I have not 
 made much of a beginning as it is toward 
 gaining her regard. I do not like the idea 
 of lighting to destroy the Union, for I love 
 the old Stars and Stripes, and I think the 
 
20 HUGH DARN ABY. 
 
 Union should be preserved, if possible. My 
 father would be pleased if I should join the 
 Federal army. I might gain distinction and 
 come back and marry Annie, and all would 
 be well. But, then, I love the South and the 
 Southern people, and I believe they are 
 right in the main, and then I cannot make 
 up my mind to fight against them. In some 
 important essentials the cause of the Union 
 is righteous, the issues which brought about 
 a culmination of affairs enlist my sympathies 
 very strongly in that direction — at least 
 some of them do. But there are other 
 things which are claimed by the people of 
 the Confederate States, the justness of which 
 appeal to my manhood and to my love of 
 fair play. Weighing the matter in the scale 
 of reason the balance fails to bear down 
 either way. My heart goes out to my own 
 people. It is hard. Oh, it is hard to know 
 what to do — what it is right to do. I dislike 
 very much going against my father's wishes 
 and judgment. The dear, old man, I love 
 
HUGH DARN A B T. 21 
 
 and respect him very much indeed, and I 
 love my brothers, and I should hate to be 
 arrayed against them in mortal combat. . . . 
 
 "And my mother — oh, my dear mother; 
 will she always love me ? But I can hesi- 
 tate no longer and keep my self respect. 
 
 " Then, leaving others to act for them- 
 selves as they think best, according to their 
 honest convictions, and claiming the same 
 right to think and act for myself, I will 
 throw in my fortunes with the ' Southern 
 people.' " 
 
 But as the thought of Annie Pendleton 
 came to him, his heart would cry out in 
 agony, " Oh, my love, I cannot bear to lose 
 
 you." 
 
 Thus cried out the heart of Hugh 
 Darnaby, and thus did cry out the heart of 
 many a Kentucky lad during that trying 
 period. 
 
 " I will speak my heart to her to-night," 
 he said, " and she shall decide for me." 
 
 Ah ! Was he weak ? Judge not too 
 
22 HUGH DARNABT. 
 
 harshly you who did not live in any one of 
 the border States at the beginning of the 
 late war, when the opinion in regard to the 
 merits of the causes for the great contest 
 was very nearly evenly divided ; where many 
 a young man, and many a middle-aged man^ 
 too, was called on to decide against father, 
 mother, kith and kin, for what seemed to 
 him to be right, and where the heart often 
 bled at being called on to sever the dearest 
 and tenderest ties for what seemed to be 
 the demands of duty. 
 
 Oh, the strong love of the Union which 
 bound many hearts to it, whilst the hatred 
 of what was conceived to be oppression 
 drove them from it. 
 
 Oh, the sense of right as to many things 
 which bound them to it whilst the love for 
 certain other things took them from it. 
 
 In no other part of the Union did indivi- 
 duals know, nor can they, even to-day, fully 
 appreciate these mental struggles. Some 
 were drawn by wills stronger than their own,. 
 
HUGE DARNABT. 23 
 
 while others decided for themselves, taking 
 some great principle for a beacon light and 
 never loosing sight of it. 
 
 But it is passed. The terrible ordeal is 
 over, and we will not stop to attempt to 
 argue a dead issue. 
 
 Poor Hugh. His heart was passing 
 through the fire. Now, however, his imme- 
 diate business was to get himself, as soon 
 as possible, divested of his wraps, having 
 ascended to the chamber on the second floor 
 of the Pendleton mansion which was dedi- 
 cated to the use of the male guests on this 
 particular night. 
 
 He very soon came down into the parlor, 
 where already dancing had begun. As he 
 entered, bowing to this acquaintance and to 
 that one, his eyes sought the one of whom 
 his thoughts were full. 
 
 Ah! What a vision of loveliness met his 
 gaze as it rested on her. There, gracefully 
 moving to the gliding step of one of Strauss' 
 waltzes, was Annie Pendleton. 
 
24 HUGH DARNABT. 
 
 The flush of excitement and exercise was 
 on her cheek. The brightness of perfect en- 
 joyment was in her eye. The beautiful brown 
 ringlets were dancing around her fair fore- 
 head. Nothing in all that Ingleside was 
 fairer to look upon than that country girl. 
 No smile was sweeter or more witching. 
 No look so bright. 
 
 The little cupids seemed to chase each 
 other from the corners of her mouth, and to 
 play hide-and-seek among her brown tresses. 
 
 Ah ! Those lovely, soft, loving brown eyes. 
 They were sparkling now with enjoyment, 
 but they could be very confiding, trusting, 
 loving. There was a soul that looked from 
 those eyes and told of thoughts, at times, 
 deep down beneath the surface. Neverthe- 
 less they could flash fire when some story of 
 wrong was told to her or enacted in her 
 presence. Then, again, they could be very 
 tender when she listened to some tale of 
 sorrow. 
 
 Shall I confess it ? I am an old, staid, 
 
HUGH DARNABY. 25 
 
 plodding personage, I love a brown eye — 
 a soft, brown eye. The heavenly blue of 
 some eyes have been extoled ; their beauty 
 has been sung by poets from time im- 
 memorial. But, after all, for me, give me 
 the soulful brown eye. Give me the pathos 
 which lies in it ; the love, the unspeakable 
 love which beams from it ; the kindliness 
 which indicates the soul beneath. 
 
26 HUGH DABNABT. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE DANCE AT PENDLETON's. 
 
 Hugh Darnaby loved brown eyes, too, es- 
 pecially those of Annie Pendleton, and as 
 she caught his glance in whirling by she 
 bowed in recognition, with her most witch- 
 ing smile, and he thought that a man might do 
 great things for her sake. At the same time 
 a pang of jealousy shot through his heart, 
 for what was his surprise to see her form 
 supported through the waltz on the arm of 
 a handsome young man in the uniform of an 
 United States soldier. 
 
 Yes, he was handsome — Hugh had to ac- 
 knowledge that. This young lieutenant was 
 a temporary guest of the Pendleton house- 
 hold, and had claimed the honor of the first 
 waltz with the fair young daughter of his 
 host. 
 
 The blue uniform and the brass buttons, 
 
HUGH DABNABY. 27 
 
 as well as his shoulder straps, at once indi- 
 cated his rank, and revealed the cause to 
 which he had offered his services. He was 
 the son of an old friend and college mate of 
 Mr. Pendleton now living in Indiana, and 
 happening to be passing through the State 
 on his way to join his command at the fronts 
 and having a few days to spare, he had come 
 to pay a short visit to his father's old friend. 
 Hugh stood watching the couple. Both were 
 good waltzers, and the very poetry of motion 
 seemed to be exemplified in their movoments. 
 Suddenly recollecting himself, he walked 
 into the rear parlor and spoke to Mr. and 
 Mrs, Pendleton, who gave him a warm wel- 
 come, for their families were very friendly at 
 that time. 
 
 " Well, Hugh," said Mr. Pendleton, " I am 
 glad to see you. You see that Mrs. Pendle- 
 ton and myself are watching the young peo- 
 ple enjoy themselves. Well, well, we are 
 young only once in our lives, so you must 
 go and make the best of it with the rest. 
 
28 HUGH DARN A B Y. 
 
 You must not keep some particular maiden's 
 heart in suspense by standing too long talk- 
 ing to the ' old folks.' " 
 
 Mrs. Pendleton gave him her welcome, too, 
 inquiring concerning his mother's health. 
 Hugh then passed on ; but he did not im- 
 mediately join the dancers. He went un- 
 noticed up to the retiring room, and sat there 
 smoking a cigar in silence for half an hour. 
 He was a little bit sullen, as well as silent 
 for awhile. He was somewhat jealous of 
 the young ofl&cer, for he was not, as yet, 
 much of a man of the world. At the end of 
 that time a different mood took possession 
 of him, and hot and flushed with the fever 
 of jealousy and a kind of resentment, he 
 went back into the parlor. 
 
 Once there he sought out and spoke to 
 Annie Pendleton, and asked her for the next 
 dance. She was engaged to dance with the 
 the young lieutenant again. A hot rush of 
 blood to his face was the only indication, 
 outwardly, of the tide of bitter feeling 
 
HUGH DARNABY. 29 
 
 which now filled his heart. He merely 
 bowed and said, " I am unfortunate this 
 evening, Miss Pendleton." 
 
 She noticed the huskiness in his voice as 
 he said it, and she felt sorry for him, for she 
 surmised what the trouble was. 
 
 But then she thought, " Why should he 
 feel annoyed ? He had no more right to 
 expect that she would reserve a dance for 
 him than any one else. She was in no way 
 bound to him. Why, indeed, should she 
 care if he seemed hurt and disappointed ? " 
 
 She had a tender, sympathizing, little 
 heart, nevertheless. And then she had 
 fancied that Hugh did care a good deal 
 about her, and, to tell the truth, she was 
 not altogether indifferent to him. She had 
 begun lately to like his straightforward, 
 honest nature very much. She thought to 
 herself that she did care just a little bit that 
 he should feel hurt. 
 
 But what could she do ? It was noticed 
 that for the balance of the evening Hugh 
 
30 HUGH DARNABY. 
 
 Darnaby was the most untiring dancer in the 
 room. He even became brilliant in his con- 
 versation. And he did something he had 
 never done before — he flirted promiscuously 
 with most of the girls present and with 
 whom he danced to an unprecedented ex- 
 tent. Usually he was rather quiet and dig- 
 nified, even on such occasions as this, and, 
 therefore, his present mood and actions were 
 noted and remarked upon by more than one 
 person. 
 
 With the flush of feverish excitement on 
 his cheek he entered into the dancing with a 
 reckless, devil-may-care abandon, foreign to 
 his nature. 
 
 When the invitation came to the guests to 
 walk into the dining-room where the re- 
 freshments were ready on the table, he 
 noticed that the young lieutenant "went in" 
 with Annie Pendleton ; so he offered his es- 
 cort to the next loveliest girl in the company, 
 Florence Grigsby. And no lady present was 
 waited on with more assiduous care than 
 
HUGH DA RNAB Y. 31 
 
 she. While partaking of the repast, con- 
 versation flowed on iu various channels un- 
 til a subject was broached which checked 
 his volubility, at least for a time. 
 
 "Annie Pendleton is looking lovely to- 
 night. Don't you think so, Mr. Darnaby ? " 
 said Florence. "And isn't Lieutenant Gray 
 handsome? They make a fine looking 
 couple, and he seems to appreciate the fact." 
 Florence Grigsby wanted to tease Hugh, but 
 she had no idea that the shaft she had sent 
 flying was striking as deep as it was. 
 
 The young soldier was the lion of the 
 hour. Evidently the brass buttons had car- 
 ried the day with the girls, and it seemed to 
 Hugh that Annie in particular had been 
 vanquished by them. 
 
 Of course, all this was somewhat unrea- 
 sonable on his part. Lieutenant Gray was 
 the guest of the house, and was, of course, 
 entitled to more than ordinary attention 
 from every member of the household. 
 
 If Hugh had not have been jealously in 
 
32 HUOH DARNABY. 
 
 love he would have fully appreciated this. 
 He would have known that the particular 
 attentions of Annie Pendleton to Lieutenant 
 Gray, which seemed so marked to him, need 
 .not mean anything more than common po- 
 liteness. But Hugh thought, disconsolately, 
 that if he wished to have any chance at all 
 of winning Miss Pendleton he must become 
 a soldier. 
 
 In this particular mood he again retired 
 to the dressing-room and sat alone, torn by 
 conflicting thoughts and emotions. Before 
 he left the room again his determination 
 was taken. He would go to the war and 
 he would go with the South. If Annie 
 would not love him she should at least 
 respect him. 
 
 Such were his thoughts and such was his 
 determination, and nothing could now shake 
 or change him in his course. Eeturning to 
 the parlor he saw Annie Pendleton stand- 
 ing, for the moment, speaking to her mother. 
 Hugh's feelings were somewhat toned down 
 
HUGH DARNABY. 33 
 
 by this time. He had had time to reflect, 
 and although a feeling of pique and resent- 
 ment still filled his breast on account of the 
 cool treatment which he conceived that he 
 had received from her, he could not bear 
 the idea of going away without saying a 
 word to her ; without, at least, having a last 
 dance with her. He argued that he might 
 never see her again, and if it so happened 
 that he did, she might then be the wife of 
 Lieutenant Gray. 
 
 , He went immediately over to where she 
 stood and said, " Miss Pendleton, am I in- 
 terrupting ?" 
 
 " Oh, not at all, Mr. Darnaby," she re- 
 plied ; " I was only resting for a few mo- 
 ments." 
 
 "And," said he, " are you too tired to 
 give me this last waltz ?" 
 
 " No," she answered, " I am not too tired. 
 I will waltz with you with pleasure." 
 
 As they moved away he said, " I wished 
 particularly to have this waltz, because we 
 
34 HUOH DARNABY. 
 
 have not danced together to-night, and be- 
 cause it may be the last we shall ever have 
 together." 
 
 Turning those brown eyes of hers up to 
 his, she asked : " Why so ?" 
 
 It is rather difficult to carry on a pro- 
 tracted conversation while waltzing, so he 
 only answered, " When the waltz is over, if 
 you will go with me to the library, I will tell 
 you. This much now, I am going away." 
 
 And then the waltz began. As I have 
 said it was no time for connected conversa- 
 tion, and Hugh gave himself up to the plea- 
 sure of the moment. He would not let him- 
 self think of anything else. His arm was 
 around her waist, and drawing her to him 
 he could have wished that the waltz would 
 last forever. But everything in this life 
 must come to an end, even the most plea- 
 surable. In fact, it would seem that the 
 most pleasurable are the fleetest. 
 
 Presently the strains of the music ceased 
 
HUGH BARN A BY. 35 
 
 and the last waltz was over, and Hugh Dar- 
 naby was leading Annie Pendleton to a 
 room across the hall from the parlor. She 
 wished to hear something of his plan for 
 going away, and as he had promised more 
 information in regard to his intention, she 
 made no objection to leaving the parlor with 
 him. 
 
 Said he, as they passed across the hall, 
 " I thought that you would like to rest for a 
 few moments, and I wished to say good-by 
 to you, and to tell you where and why I am 
 going away, if you care to hear." 
 
 Said she in reply, " You know, Mr. Dar- 
 naby, that if you are going away for any 
 length of time, I should wish to bid you 
 good-by, and I shall listen to anything you 
 choose to tell me in regard to your plans 
 with pleasure, provided I am not kept too 
 long from my guests." 
 
 " I shall not detain you long, Miss Annie," 
 said he. 
 
 " Perhaps," she remarked, " you are go- 
 
36 HUGH DARNABY. 
 
 ing to the war? In which event we girls 
 will lose a very agreeable escort, and you 
 know they are in demand in these days." 
 
 " Will you take this chair near the win- 
 dow?" said he, at the same time seating 
 himself in the window sill, which was set in 
 a little recess in the wall. 
 
 He then resumed : " Yes, I am going into 
 the army, and I asked you to come out here 
 to tell you so and to say farewell, for we 
 may never meet again. Of course, I cannot 
 expect you to feel in this matter as I do ; 
 you are not going to leave father, mother, 
 kith and kin, and all. You are not about 
 to sever the tenderest ties as I am about to 
 do. You are not about to take a step which 
 would probably blast a very dear hope, only 
 a hope, though one which had grown very 
 dear to you." 
 
 " Mr. Darnaby," said she, as he paused, 
 " I don't understand you exactly ; but," con- 
 tinued she testily, "if I had such grave 
 reasons for not becoming a soldier as you 
 
HUGH DARNABY. 37 
 
 seem to have I most certainly would not 
 become one." 
 
 At the time her voice was toned to a very 
 perceptible pitch of scorn. Hugh did not 
 fail to notice it and hasten to exclaim that 
 she seemed to mistake the motive for his 
 hesitancy. 
 
 " If Miss Pendleton will but hear me for a 
 moment longer I shall endeavor to have her 
 understand my hesitancy about joining the 
 army. 
 
 " I must acknowledge that it is a very 
 serious matter with me. In the first place I 
 am going to take a step that will perhaps 
 place a gulf between my own father and 
 myself. My mother's dear heart will bleed 
 at what she will consider, no doubt, the blind 
 folly and disobedience of her own child. 
 Then, again, I shall lose the regard and 
 esteem of your father, which I should be 
 very reluctant to do, because I love his only 
 daughter very, very much, and had hoped 
 in time to win some return. Yes, Annie 
 
38 HUGH DARNABT. 
 
 Pendleton, I do love you, and have loved 
 you from the time we were children together. 
 I have never spoken to you on the subject 
 before, because I did not feel that the time 
 had come for so doing, and then as time 
 went on and you grew to be so beautiful I 
 began to see how little I had to offer in 
 return for what I might ask, or to give in 
 return for what I might be so fortunate as 
 to receive. But now I could not go away 
 without speaking. 
 
 " I did feel hurt and wounded to-night 
 when you did not dance with me, and I felt 
 that there was no place in your heart for me. 
 I would ask you now if you could not love me 
 a little ; but, in honesty to you and to 
 myself, I must tell you, though I suppose 
 you have guessed already, that I am going 
 South. 
 
 " It seems that what I am going to do is 
 the right thing for me to do, and therefore 
 the only manly course left. Perhaps now 
 you can divine, partly, at least, why I have 
 
HUGH DARNABY. 39 
 
 stayed at home so long, allowing others to 
 go before. I know that cowardly motives 
 have been attributed to me, and when you 
 have sometimes twitted me as a stay-at-home 
 it has cut me like a knife. And now if you 
 don't love me it seems as if you should at 
 least respect my reasons for the step that I 
 am about to take, and also my reasons for 
 hesitating so long." 
 
 She was much surprised ; not gi-eatly at 
 his declaration of love, but at his announce- 
 ment that he intended to join the Confederate 
 army. She knew that Hugh Darnaby loved 
 her before he had spoken, for he had shown 
 it in many ways, almost unconsciously to 
 himself perhaps, but understood by her 
 nevertheless. Therefore, as I have said, she 
 was not so much surprised that he should 
 have spoken at this time on that subject. 
 But, knowing his family to be Union people, 
 and that two of his brothers were already in 
 the Federal army, she naturally supposed 
 that he held the same views politically as 
 
40 HUOH DARNABT. 
 
 they did. She was an earnest, thoughtful 
 little woman on occasion, as well as a bright 
 and honest one ; and honesty and candor in 
 any one else met with appreciation from her. 
 Still she hesitated, and he finally asked : 
 " Have you nothing to say to me ? " 
 . She answered by asking a question of 
 him, "What shall I say, Mr. Darnaby? You 
 have certainly taken me by surprise." 
 
 " Then, do you mean to say," interrupted he, 
 "that you never suspected my attachment 
 for you ? But perhaps you may love some 
 one else. If so, forgive me for speaking of 
 my love. You may hate me for being a 
 rebel, and this may be an unfortunate time 
 for urging my suit. Has my determination 
 and the confession of it to you made a dif- 
 ference in my standing in your esteem ? " 
 
 And thus she answered him : " It certainly 
 does make a difference, Mr. Darnaby, but not 
 to the extent that you seem to infer." 
 
 "Then," interrupted he again, "you do 
 love me, or rather you might have given me 
 
HUGH DARN ABY. 41 
 
 some hope had my decision been different. 
 Is that it ? At least you do not despise me. 
 Say this much at any rate." 
 
 " I was going to say," replied she, " that I 
 respect you and your convictions, for I believe 
 that you are honest ; that you believe that 
 you are doing right. I was disposed to be 
 offended when you asked me if I loved any 
 one else, but I see you asked from a proper 
 motive, and I will answer j^ou truthfully. I 
 do not love any one else in the way in which 
 you mean." 
 
 Then he drew closer to her and took her 
 hand, which she did not seem to notice, and 
 cried out in a suppressed voice, " Can you, 
 will you, love me ? Annie, my whole heart 
 goes out to you. My darling, give me your 
 love, and then whatever befalls me I can 
 stand it." 
 
 And then he continued vehemently, "I do 
 not love you with a sudden fancy, for this 
 love for you has grown as I grew, and has 
 strengthened with my manhood. Every fibre 
 
42 HUGH DARNABT. 
 
 of my being thrills responsive to thoughts of 
 you. I feel that the life which I have lived 
 here has been very narrow, very unworthy 
 to offer to you to share with me, but if you 
 love me I know that I can widen its compass, 
 that I can do things worthy in some degree 
 of such a blessing. Do you bid me stay ? " 
 " No," she hastened to interrupt, " I do not 
 bid you stay. God forbid that I should ever 
 attempt to keep a man from doing that which 
 he conceived to be his duty ; that I should 
 ever endeavor to turn him from that which he 
 had convinced himself to be the right thing to 
 do." And catching something of his enthu- 
 siasm and intensity of feeling, she continued : 
 " If my love would keep you from acting a 
 manly part it would not be worth having. 
 You were better without it. You know my 
 father's strong convictions and his prejudices 
 if you will Hugh, and that he would never 
 countenance Avhat you ask. I am not in- 
 different to you but I cannot give you my 
 love now," 
 
HUGH DARNABF. 43 
 
 " Oh, Annie," he cried, " it is hard, but 
 you have shown me plainer than ever where 
 my duty lies. I will not urge you now, but 
 oh, when the war is over, no matter who is 
 conquerer, then — then will you let me seek 
 you once again ? " 
 
 And, as he drew her to him once again, 
 she whispered, " Yes, Hugh, for I love you 
 even now." 
 
 Just at this moment a voice was heard 
 calling for Miss Annie. It was Lieutenant 
 Gray claiming her for the last dance — the 
 Virginia reel. And Hugh Darnaby, hastily 
 releasing her and whispering good- by dar- 
 ling, stooped to pick up a pink bow which 
 had fallen to the floor. This he placed in 
 his pocket — no jealousy now — and as he did 
 so Lieutenant Gray entered the room. 
 
44 HUGH DARNABT. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 HUGH BIDS HIS MOTHER FAEEWELL AND LEAVES 
 FOR THE ARMY. 
 
 It was with a sad heart, and yet a lighter 
 one, that Hugh went home that night. The 
 moon, which was still brightly shining high 
 up in the heavens, seemed to smile on him. 
 And the very night air whispered to him 
 pleasant fancies. 
 
 When he reached home he found that the 
 back door of the house had been left unlocked, 
 and that there was a lamp on the table in the 
 hall burning low for him. He also found 
 that his mother was still up and waiting. 
 
 She wished to have a serious talk with 
 him. She had felt for some time that she 
 must speak again soon or it would be too 
 late, and to-night she had had a kind of a pre- 
 sentiment that things in relation to her son's 
 
HUGH DARNABT. 45 
 
 future movements were about to culminate. 
 So she met Hugh in the hall and said to him : 
 " My son, step into the dining-room, I wish 
 to have a talk with you." 
 
 " Certainly, mother," said he, " I will bring 
 the lamp." And taking a seat he began : 
 " And now what is it, mother dear ? It must 
 be something serious which keeps you up so 
 late. Have you heard anything very naughty 
 about me which you want to scold me for ? " 
 
 He spoke this jestingly, at the same time 
 he felt that he could make a pretty shrewd 
 guess as to what the subject was which she 
 would broach. 
 
 " No, my son," she answered, " I have not 
 heard anything bad about you, but I have 
 seen that you have been troubled very much 
 lately and I think I know what it has been 
 about. Now you should confide in your 
 mother, for you will never have a better 
 friend. You know that I love you, my boy, 
 and that you will have my sympathy in 
 whatever concerns you. I think that you 
 
46 HUGH DARNAB Y. 
 
 are making your plans to leave us ; am I not 
 right?" 
 
 " Well, mother," he replied, " perhaps I 
 should have confided my troubles to you, 
 for possibly you could have saved me a great 
 deal of worry. But would not this have 
 ' been a very selfish course to pursue ? I did 
 not wish to grieve you, and if I say now that 
 you have guessed rightly I am afraid that 1 
 shall do so. But it cannot be helped now 
 and I must be candid with you. I am going 
 into the army, and I go to-morrow. I had 
 intended to go without telling you, only leav- 
 ing a note to explain my sudden departure. 
 I did hate to leave without your blessing, 
 mother, still I fear I was not altogether 
 certain that I should obtain it after you 
 knew all. And even now I hardly know how 
 to tell you the rest. I cannot expect much 
 consideration from father. I don't think 
 that he would appreciate my earnest con- 
 viction in this matter, for it is hard even 
 now for him to consider me -anything but a 
 
HUGH DARNABY. 47 
 
 boy. And I was afraid that he might say 
 things which I could not listen to calmly, 
 and that I might be led to retort in such 
 manner as that I should regret for the 
 balance of my life. So I thought it best not 
 to tell any one here that I was going to the 
 Confederate army." 
 
 " My son ! Oh, my son," cried the mother, 
 "you will certainly break your father's heart ; 
 mine is already broken. And your brothers, 
 what will they think of you ? Oh, my son, 
 why will you do it ?" 
 
 And the poor lady broke down utterly and 
 sobbed as if her heart were breaking indeed. 
 The reference to what his brothers would 
 think of his course roused all the antago- 
 nism in Hugh's nature, and he answered 
 hastily, " I do not care what they think so 
 long as I feel that I am right." But seeing 
 the great sorrow in his mother's eyes, he 
 finished thus : "I do care very much what 
 you care and think, my mother. Consider- 
 ation for your feelings in this matter has 
 
48 HUGH DARNAB T. 
 
 been one of the chief reasons for my hesi- 
 tancy, and fear of your displeasure one of 
 the greatest impediments in the way towards 
 making up my mind as to what I should do. 
 It was because of my love for you that I 
 have stayed at home so long. But now, 
 mother, dear, I must go ; I think that it is 
 right ; that it is my duty to do so. I would 
 not be any son of yours or of my father's 
 either if I hesitated longer. Mother, won't 
 you at least give me your blessing ? With 
 it I can do what I conceive to be right ; with- 
 out it I should feel miserable and could 
 only half fulfil my destiny. With a mother's 
 discernment she saw that his decision had 
 indeed been made, and she understood him 
 well enough to know that even if out of love 
 for her he were to remain at home, he would 
 be self-abased and ashamed to raise his 
 head among his associates. And she dried 
 her tears and her love conquered. She un- 
 derstood and respected his wish to do what 
 seemed right to him, even though she 
 
HUGH DARNABY. 49 
 
 diflfered with him. She was a woman of 
 strong character and justly balanced mind. 
 She took her boy's head upon her lap and 
 brushed his hair back from his temples with 
 her fingers, which had been wont so often 
 to soothe his boyish troubles, and spoke 
 soothing words to him, for he had fallen 
 upon his knees before her and was sobbing 
 out his heart like a boy. As she passed 
 her hand over his brow great beads of perspi- 
 ration, which had been drawn to the surface 
 by the agony of the inward struggle which 
 was racking him, moistened her slender 
 fingers. They remained in this attitude for 
 some little time, and then she spoke. " If 
 you think it right my poor boy you must go. 
 Yes, go ; and take my blessing, a mother's 
 blessing with you, and whatever befalls you 
 remember always that I am thinking of you, 
 and praying for you and for your safety. I 
 would rather that your decision might have 
 been diflerent, but you are a man now and 
 must judge for yourself." 
 
50 HUGH DARN ABY. 
 
 Presently she continued, " Probably you 
 had better not mention your intentions to 
 your father. And now, good-night, my boy, 
 and may God bless and keep you." 
 
 "Good-by, mother," he cried, "I thank 
 you for your kind words, and I shall not 
 forget them. Ask father to forgive me if he 
 can. And, mother, tell her — tell Annie Pen- 
 dleton that at least she shall not be ashamed 
 to acknowledge that she has ever known 
 Hugh Darnaby." 
 
 And the mother understood that he was 
 making another great sacrifice on the altar 
 of duty. 
 
 He went upstairs to his bed-room — he did 
 not want a light — and she saw him enter his 
 door, and she sighed half inaudibly, " My 
 poor boy, my latest born, they have taken 
 them all." 
 
 Hugh walked the floor until within an 
 hour before daybreak, when overcome by 
 mental exhaustion he threw himself on his 
 bed without removing his clothing, and fell 
 into a deep sleep. 
 
HUGH DARNABY. 51 
 
 Jim was surprised next morning to see bis 
 young master walk into the stable yard 
 shortly after daylight, and at receiving the 
 order to saddle his master's horse, Joe, im- 
 mediately. Wondering, the negro obeyed 
 the order, and in a few minutes Hugh was 
 mounted and ready to start. Taking the 
 bridle reins into his hands he leaned over 
 the horse's side and said, " Good-by, Jim, 
 I am going away for a few days, perhaps 
 longer. You have been a good boy to me. 
 Take this to remember me by," and he handed 
 Jim a new crisp five-dollar bill, " and don't 
 forget me." 
 
 " Say, Mars Hugh," said Jim, coming 
 close to the horse's side and taking the 
 money, at the same time thanking him for 
 it, " Say, Mars Hugh, I s'picions whar' you's 
 gwine, cause I done seed dat you was 
 troubled in you' mind, and I 'lowed dat 
 Mars Tom and Mars Geoge neber went way 
 dis way. An' I don keer whar you is gwine, 
 I knows you wants somebody to take keer of 
 
52 HUGH DARN ABY. 
 
 Joe. An' — an' 1 wants ter ax yer to take 
 me wid yer." 
 
 " No, Jim," answered Hugh, " I must go 
 without you this time. You must stay here 
 and help to take care of the place until I 
 come back." 
 
 " Good-by, den, Mars Hugh, Jim ain* 
 gwine ter furgit yer," and the boy turned 
 away toward the stable to hide the tears 
 which were standing thick in his honest eyes, 
 and ready to roll down his shiny black 
 cheeks. As he moved on shaking his head 
 mournfully, Hugh rode away toward the 
 front gate. He paused as he opened it, and 
 casting his eye up in the direction of the 
 house, saw his mother standing at one of the 
 upper windows. He threw a kiss to her as 
 he rode through the gate. She waved her 
 handkerchief at him, and then he was gone. 
 
 Hugh carried this picture, the last glance 
 at his old home and the last glimpse of his 
 mother, with him through many long and 
 eventful days. 
 
HUGH DABNABY. 53 
 
 He took the road leading to town, and 
 passing Mr. Pendleton's house he stopped 
 hesitatingly. He had hoped against hope 
 that he might catch a glimpse of Annie, 
 but it was too early in the morning. Be- 
 sides he had not told her what time of day 
 he would leave or she might have seen him 
 for a few minutes ; but now she was sleep- 
 ing peacefully after the excitement and 
 fatigue of the night before. 
 
 He saw two or three of the servants mov- 
 ing about the house and that was all. Then 
 putting spurs to his horse he was in an in- 
 stant being borne along as if on the wings 
 of the wind, and very soon the town was in 
 sight, speed was slackened, and the noble 
 animal he bestrode was given a short breath- 
 ing spell. 
 
 One of the negro girls who waited on Miss 
 Annie said that morning while putting her 
 young mistress' room to rights, " Sam say 
 he seed Mars Hugh Darnaby goin' by early 
 dis mornin' like somthin' wus arter him. 
 
54 HUOH DARNABT. 
 
 Wonder wus some on um sick down ter 
 Mars Darnaby's? Sam say Mars Hugh 
 wus ridin Joe, an dat Joe got ter be mighty 
 good hoss ter keep up dat gait ve'y long." 
 
 And Annie Pendleton knew now that 
 Hugh Darnaby had gone sure enough, and 
 she also remembered her promise to him. 
 
HUGH BA RNAB Y. 55 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 ME. PENDLETON AND MR. DARNABY LEAVE HOME 
 AT THE APPROACH OF THE CONFEDERATES. 
 
 Hugh Darnaby, among the few young 
 men, comparatively speaking, and really 
 forming the exceptions to the general rule 
 at that time and in that part of the country, 
 had had a collegiate education. He had 
 delved to some extent into the mysteries of 
 higher mathematics. Even the Odes of 
 Horace were not altogether unfamiliar to 
 him, and he greatly appreciated the beauties 
 of Moore and of Burns. He had actually 
 read " Miles Standish," and had learned to 
 love the gentle but wise Puritan maid Pris- 
 cilla, and he did not blame her for marrying 
 John Alden. In fact, he had had a good 
 education, and had read to some advantage 
 since his college days were over ; and I be- 
 
56 HUGH DARNABT. 
 
 lieve this is making a very fair showing for 
 a Kentucky bred young man of those days. 
 
 Early as it was when he reached town he 
 was soon joined by a couple of other young 
 men, his acquaintances, who were prepared 
 to start for the same destination, and 
 without further delay they rode off to- 
 gether. Each had left his home that morn- 
 ing, left friends, but neither of the others 
 had had such a hard wrench in so doing as 
 Hugh. 
 
 They traveled for several days in a south- 
 westerly direction, stopping at intervals at 
 the different farm houses which they en- 
 countered for rest and food. Finally they 
 
 reached , where they enlisted and 
 
 where they were assigned to certain com- 
 mands. 
 
 It is not our province to follow the 
 individual fortunes of any of this party 
 further for the present. Suffice it to say 
 that it was not long before they crossed the 
 Tennessee line, and were engaged pretty 
 
HUGH DARNABT. 57 
 
 actively in the hostilities which were of 
 frequent occurrence in the Departments of 
 the Tennessee and Cumberland for several 
 months afterwards. 
 
 Our friend, Hugh Darnabj, was appointed 
 sergeant of his company soon after joining 
 it ; this much was known some time after- 
 wards, and this much, in some mysterious 
 manner, reached the ears of Annie Pendleton. 
 
 Mrs. Darnaby was not her usual self, even 
 apparently, for some time after Hugh went 
 away. In fact, she had a spell of sickness, 
 and required perfect rest and quiet for some 
 weeks. After that she went about her house- 
 hold duties as usual. 
 
 Hugh's father was very angry at first upon 
 learning of liis son's departure. After awhile 
 he was much grieved ; but being a just man 
 for all that, and loving his son as much as 
 any other father he would not allow anyone 
 to say anything against Hugh or to criticise 
 his action in his presence. Mr. Pendleton, 
 being one of the oldest friends of the 
 
58 HUOH DARNABT. 
 
 Darnabys, undertook one day to ^speak of 
 and to condole with Mr. Darnaby at what 
 he considered the undutiful conduct of Hugh 
 in going against the known wishes of his 
 father and of his best friends. Mr. Darnaby 
 justified his son's action from Hugh's stand- 
 point. Mr. Pendleton became excited and 
 told Mr. Darnaby that he considered him a 
 curious Union man when he could thus con- 
 done the fact of anyone's becoming a rebel. 
 Then it was that Mr. Darnaby became ex- 
 cited also, and the result was that the two 
 old friends exchanged some very uncompli- 
 mentary epithets, and a coolness sprang up 
 between the families from that time. 
 
 The fact was that Mr. Pendleton was, 
 though a very kind-hearted man naturally,, 
 a very excitable and quick-tempered one, 
 and was apt to do and say things when 
 under the influence of excitement which his 
 cooler judgment would never have per- 
 mitted him to have said or done. He was, 
 nevertheless, very strong and uncompro- 
 
HUGH DARNABT. 59 
 
 mising in his opinions, and being of this 
 temperament and a strong Union sympathizer 
 he was often led into indiscretions which 
 made him a prominent mark for the possible 
 future retaliatory measures on the part of 
 those who still hoped and looked for the 
 extension of the Confederate power in the 
 State. In those troublous times it was safer 
 for a man who remained at home to put a 
 guard on his speech and actions, for there 
 were those who, in order to accomplish 
 personal revenge, would stop short of nothing. 
 In the excited and unsettled state of affairs 
 which is always found in any country in 
 .time of war, and especially in that part of it 
 which is very near to the scene of actual 
 hostilities, the worst element in society is 
 sure to become prominent, and the worst 
 side of individual character is free to show 
 itself. 
 
 Life was frequently taken unnecessarily,, 
 sometimes wantonly, in Kentucky during 
 those days, and many were the homes. 
 
60 HUGH DARNABT. 
 
 which were broken up — some temporarily, 
 others permanently — in order that a place 
 of greater safety might be found in which to 
 dwell in peace. 
 
 It was during the early part of the next 
 year that affairs began to look somewhat 
 gloomy for the Union cause in Kentucky. 
 Already roving bands of Confederate sol- 
 diers were to be seen and met with in un- 
 frequented places, making their way slowly 
 northward, or hiding around through the 
 country and committing depredations of 
 various kinds on those who did not sympa- 
 thize with their cause. 
 
 The seriousness of the war had already 
 impressed itself on the minds of the people 
 of all sections of the country. They now 
 saw that it was no child's play in which 
 they were engaged. The boast of the North 
 that the Confederacy would be wiped out in 
 three months had ceased to find echo in the 
 newspapers of the day, and the Southerners 
 had found out that one of them could not 
 whip a half dozen " Yankees." 
 
ED OH DARNABY. 61 
 
 Things had settled down to a regular war 
 basis, and a few months later the armies of 
 Buell and of Bragg began their celebrated 
 race through the State of Kentucky. And 
 as the race continued the scattering bands 
 and smaller detachments of the Confederate 
 army began to spread out to the eastward 
 and to the westward. It became more and 
 more unsafe for Union sympathizers to 
 remain at home, and especially those who 
 had been as outspoken in their denuncia- 
 tions of the rebels and as demonstrative in 
 their actions as Mr. Pendleton had been. 
 
 Very soon the people of the " Blue Grass " 
 country began to experience many of the 
 inconveniences and sufferings consequent 
 upon the actual presence of armed and 
 often hostile forces. Mr. Pendleton stood 
 his ground a good while, as the enemy 
 approached, hiding his best horses at night 
 in the smoke-house and cellar, and in the 
 daytime, at the j5rst sign of approaching 
 soldiers, behind clumps of thick-growing 
 
62 HUGH DARNABF. 
 
 bushes. On one or two occasions when the 
 danger seemed to be particularly imminent, 
 he hid his favorite riding horse in one of 
 the lower rooms of the house, and covered 
 the floor with straw so that the stamping of 
 the hoofs could not be heard. 
 
 But, finally, after his life had been 
 threatened more than once, through the 
 entreaties of his wife and daughter, as well 
 as by the advice of friends, he left the 
 country and moved with his family to 
 Indiana, and established himself in a small 
 town just across the Ohio river. 
 
 And at last Mr. Darnaby, in common with 
 many others, was compelled to leave home. 
 He went to Louisville, leaving his wife with 
 a maiden sister and the servants to keep 
 things about the place in as good order as 
 possible, until such time as the exigencies 
 of the times might permit him to return. 
 
 In order to protect herself and family from 
 personal violence Mrs. Darnaby provided 
 herself with a revolver and began practicing 
 
HUGH DARNABY. 63 
 
 shooting at a target set up in the yard. And 
 soon she became quite proficient in the use 
 of the weapon. The revolver was kept con- 
 veniently at hand during her husband's 
 absence. 
 
 If one had made it a subject of investiga- 
 tion daring those war times he would have 
 found that a great many Kentucky ladies had 
 become more or less proficient in the use of 
 this weapon. Not that they were then, nor 
 are they now, more bloodthirsty or warlike 
 than the women of any other State in the 
 Union, but because, almost invariably, the 
 female portion of the family was left to pro- 
 vide for its own safety, temporarily at least, 
 as all the men able to bear arms had gone 
 into the army on one side or the other. 
 
64 HUGH DARNABY. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 MOEGAN's raiders visit the DARNABY PLACE. 
 
 One afternoon during this summer a party 
 of about a hundred Confederate cavalry 
 came sweeping through the the country, re- 
 connoitering, foraging, and replacing the 
 horses too badly used up to be of further 
 use to them, and it was soon evident to the 
 members of the Darnaby household that a 
 visit was about to be made to them, for when 
 they reached the gate opening from the main 
 road into the Darnaby place about one-half 
 the number turned in through the gate and 
 the rest passed on. 
 
 This detachment went immediately to the 
 pasture back of the stable lot, on one side of 
 which lay a field of corn upon the stalks of 
 which the luscious roasting ears were full 
 of milky sap, and began to unsaddle and 
 picket their horses. 
 
HUOH DA RNA BY. 65 
 
 It was evident that they intended to stop 
 a while at least with their somewhat unwil- 
 ling hostess. 
 
 By this time the negroes on the place, 
 frightened until the ashen hue began to 
 spread over and mingle with the black of 
 their faces, were running — some of them to 
 the big house, others to the bushes — for they 
 believed " the rebels " would certainly kill 
 them if they caught them. Some of the 
 mothers snatched up their babies and ran 
 with them tightly clasped in their arms, 
 others, forgetting the motherly instinct, left 
 their children wherever they happened to be 
 and fled without them. 
 
 Even the two white ladies of the family 
 were sufficiently wellffrightened, for they had 
 never seen a live armed rebel face to face 
 before. 
 
 Mrs. Darnaby watched the soldiers some 
 minutes, and then saying to her sister " come 
 with me," she took her revolver in her hand 
 and started down towards the gate opening 
 into the stable' lot. 
 
66 HUGH DARNABT. 
 
 The sister followed close behind her, and 
 Jim followed the sister. As they progressed 
 one or two of the negro women plucked up 
 courage enough to join the procession in 
 Jim's rear ; and several of the pickaninnies 
 ran to their mothers in line, thus making 
 quite a formidable looking party for the ad- 
 vance against the enemy. 
 
 As the little garrison reached the fence 
 between the stable lot and the pasture a 
 number of the soldiers came to meet them, 
 and a parley immediately began. Mrs. Dar- 
 naby addressed one of the soldiers and asked 
 him to what command he belonged and what 
 was the object of their visit. He replied 
 that they belonged to Morgan's command, 
 and that a good many of their number were 
 recruits, principally from around Lexington ; 
 it being one of the main objects of the pres- 
 ent expedition to add recruits to their ranks. 
 "Then," said Mrs. Darnaby, "you are 
 Kentuckians, and know how to treat ladies 
 when you meet them, and especially when 
 
HUGH DA RNAB Y. 57 
 
 they are entirely unprotected ? " The young 
 man replied that he hoped that they had not 
 forgotten how to treat ladies, though there 
 were often long intervals between the times 
 when they had the opportunity to prove 
 themselves gentlemen to the fair sex. How- 
 ever, he told her that they must have feed 
 for their horses, and asked if she could fur- 
 nish the men with something to eat. Mrs. 
 Darnaby, thinking that it was probably the 
 best policy to accede to these requests with as 
 good grace as possible, told them to help 
 themselves to what feed they could find for 
 their horses, and that if they would wait a very 
 short time she would have something pre- 
 pared for them to eat of whatever was in the 
 house, and that in as far as it went they were 
 welcome to it. And as she said this she was 
 thinking of her own rebel boy, and hoping 
 that some one would treat him as well if he 
 was ever in such need. 
 
 She then returned to the house with her 
 supporting party and had the fire built in 
 
68 HUGH DARNABT. 
 
 the kitchen stove, and the two white women, 
 two colored women, and Jim, went to work 
 cooking corn bread, wheat pones, and fat 
 meat on top of the stove, and boiling coffee 
 as fast as they could. By this time the 
 kitchen was full of hungry soldiers — soldiers 
 ravenously hungry — so hu ngry indeed that 
 they would hardly wait until the bread was 
 even partially browned before they would 
 grab it off of the stove and fairly gulp it 
 down. 
 
 The soldiers did not go into the sleeping 
 apartments, but wandered in and out of the 
 other parts of the house and over the yard and 
 premises at will. A good many of them found 
 their way into the vegetable garden and 
 orchard, where they learned that the young 
 onions and green apples were especially pal- 
 atable to them. 
 
 The cooking continued until after dark 
 when the soldiers seemed to be satisfied ; at 
 least they left the house and went into camp. 
 Those who had been supplying the rations 
 
HUGH DARNABT. 69 
 
 were completely worn out, and sought their 
 beds as soon as possible, and slept soundly 
 until morning without further incident. 
 
 Bright and early they were up and at 
 work again in the kitchen, anticipating more 
 visitors for breakfast. Nor were they dis- 
 appointed in this expectation. "Whilst Mrs. 
 Darnaby and the two colored women were 
 preparing the food, her sister went to 
 straighten up the room in which the two had 
 slept during the night. Being thus occu- 
 pied she heard a bugle call, but did not pay 
 any particular attention to it, as she sup- 
 posed it was only calling the soldiers from 
 their slumbers. Presently, however, she 
 was startled, as she stopped for a moment 
 to look out of the window, and saw two men 
 carrying a third man between them, and his 
 head was drooping and blood was dripping 
 from his leg. They approached the house 
 and came up the back stairway with their 
 burden. She immediately came out into 
 the upper back porch, and, leaning over the 
 
70 HUGH DARNABT. , 
 
 railing, saw that one of the men was 
 wounded, and she called to the men for 
 them to bring him up to the boys' room. 
 This they did, and soon had him lg,id com- 
 fortably on the bed. 
 
 " Miss," said one of the men, " you must 
 not be frightened ; this boy was accidentally 
 shot in the leg while taking his gun out of a 
 wagon which was standing in the yard. He 
 is not much hurt, and if you can get us a 
 piece of rag and some water we will have 
 him all right in a few minutes." She found 
 some linen for them, and also furnished 
 some pins to the extemporized surgeons, 
 and they soon had the wound bound up and 
 had thanked the lady for her aid and com- 
 plimented her for her bravery. But just as 
 they had made the wounded man as comfort- 
 able as he could be under the circumstances, 
 shots were heard ringing out on the early 
 morning air, and the shrill notes of the 
 bugle again sounded, calling the soldiers to 
 horse. And as the two men jumped from 
 
HUQ H DARNAB T. 71 
 
 the room a troop of cavalry in " Blue " were 
 seen galloping down the road and through 
 the front gate. There was no time to lose ; 
 the wounded man must be abandoned. One 
 of thoi men, as he dashed past Miss Beall, 
 cried, " Good-by, Miss ; take care of the 
 boy ; he has just joined us." 
 
 Very soon, in fact almost as quickly as if 
 done by a miracle, the whole place was free 
 of rebel soldiers and the Federals were to 
 be seen everywhere. Some of these latter 
 came into the house on a run, and clattered 
 upstairs. Of course, they came finally to 
 the boy's room, which was situated in the 
 rear of the house, and found the wounded 
 man there. They immediately demanded 
 of him that he should surrender, and one of 
 his captors threatened to shoot him, and he 
 looked very much like he intended to carry 
 his threat into execution. At least Miss 
 Beall thought so, for, as quick as lightning, 
 she jumped between the muzzle of the gun 
 and the prisoner, with eyes blazing, and cry- 
 
72 HUGH DARNABT. 
 
 ing, "Don't you dare shoot, you coward!'* 
 The man lowered his gun and then an offi- 
 cer came on the scene and the wounded 
 Confederate was made a regular prisoner of 
 war. He was not very badly hurt, an;^ in a 
 few days was able to walk about with the 
 aid of a crutch, and then he was paroled. 
 So virtually ended this young man's military 
 career, at least in so far as Miss Beall ever 
 knew. 
 
 A portion of the Federal detachment went 
 in pursuit of the rebels, and a few remained 
 long enough to partake of the meal pre- 
 pared for the "Johnnies." 
 
 Mrs. Darnaby found out during the day 
 that some of her preserves were missing, 
 and that her husband's riding horse had 
 disappeared. 
 
HUOH DA RNAB Y. 7a 
 
 CHAPTEE VII. 
 
 TOM DAENABY's KIDE. 
 
 As we have said Hugh had two brothers 
 in the Federal army, and Tom, the eldest, 
 now wore the shoulder straps of a lieutenant,, 
 and was with Buell's army. 
 
 Lieutenant Thomas Darnaby had left a^ 
 sweetheart behind when he had enlisted, but 
 had taken her promise with him, and now as 
 he approached that portion of the State in 
 which was his home and hers he bethought 
 him that he would obtain a furlough for a 
 couple of days and go and see his mother 
 and his lady love. They lived not far apart, 
 for she was none other than Florence 
 Grigsby, with whom we have had some slight 
 acquaintance already. 
 
 It was about this time that a temporary 
 lull occurred in the activitv of the Union 
 
74 HUGH DARNABT. 
 
 troops stationed at or near the town 
 of . 
 
 The noise and clatter of actual warfare 
 was somewhat distantly removed from the 
 immediate vicinity of this community. 
 
 The hot sun shone down upon fields of 
 fast ripening grain, for the farmers had suc- 
 ceeded in putting in moderately fair-sized 
 crops, with the help of the negroes and the 
 younger boys, members of the family. 
 
 The stillness of the air was only broken 
 by the roll of the drums as they sounded the 
 reveille, or beat " taps " in the camps at bed 
 time; or by the shrill call of the bugle from 
 the quarters of the cavalry. It was a time 
 when the dividing line between the country 
 claimed by the opposing hosts was of a 
 ■dubious nature and somewhat vacillating. 
 
 In consequence, that portion of the State 
 was filled with small and generally moving 
 bodies of troops from either the Federal or 
 Confederate army. 
 
 The railroad towns were mostly occupied 
 
HUGH DARNABT. ^ 75 
 
 by the Union troops, while the Confederates 
 were forced to content themselves with scat- 
 tering through the country and making 
 occasional sorties upon the smaller towns 
 and dashes at the railroad bridges. 
 
 It sometimes happened that the Federals 
 having heard of the whereabouts of a party 
 of rebels made incursions into the country 
 in the hope of capturing them, and thus it 
 was that frequent little fights would take 
 place — sometimes not resulting in the loss of a 
 single life, at other times, alas, some poor 
 fellow being called to his last account. A 
 good many of the Confederates were the 
 boys from the country round about, who 
 taking advantage of the fact of the compara- 
 tive proximity of ,their respective commands 
 had come home on a visit. 
 
 Some came to see the old folks, others 
 had sweethearts whom they wished to see, 
 others needed fresh horses and clothing, and 
 still others hoped to obtain a good square 
 meal. At any rate here they were. Tom 
 
76 HUGH DARNABT. 
 
 Darnaby reached town one day when things 
 were in the condition above described, and 
 after resting an hour or so determined to 
 ride out home, take supper with his mother, 
 and then go over and call on Florence 
 Grigsby. 
 
 His bravery had been put to the test and 
 was beyond question ; in fact, he was con- 
 sidered rather too daring in his command. 
 
 Now the lieutenant was a splendid rider 
 and had been furnished with a good, com- 
 pactly built, mettlesome horse ; so that after- 
 noon, buckling on his sabre, putting his 
 pistols into the holsters attached to his 
 saddle, and donning his best uniform and 
 high-topped boots, he mounted his horse 
 and started. 
 
 Everything had been quiet for some days. 
 Not a rebel had been seen or heard of for a 
 week at least, and he had the promise of a 
 very pleasant and peaceful visit. He had 
 plenty of time to spare and so rode leisurely 
 along, admiring the loveliness of the country 
 through which his course lay. 
 
HUGH DARNABY. 77 
 
 It is very pleasant to travel along these 
 " turn-pike " roads, especially in the cool of 
 the evening, to let the fresh breeze which 
 springs up from the motion made in riding 
 fan the brow. Anon, to rest beneath the 
 shade of some noble forest tree which stands 
 on the side of the road, to let the eye rove 
 over the vast expanse of green grass and 
 tree and shrub, and then to move on and 
 drink in the sweet, seductive aroma of the 
 atmosphere. 
 
 Who can tell what thoughts came to Tom 
 Darnaby as he rode along. Dream no 
 doubt he did ; dreams not altogether war- 
 like. At any rate he arrived safely at home, 
 had a glad meeting with his mother, and then 
 a pleasant meal. Afterwards he remounted 
 his horse and rode over to Mr. Grigsby's, in- 
 tending to return and remain during the 
 night at his own home. 
 
 We shall not describe the meeting between 
 Miss Grigsby and himself, nor shall we even 
 surmise what subjects were mentioned be- 
 
78 HUGH BARN ABY. 
 
 tween them, nor what promises were made 
 or renewed, nor shall we tell how quickly 
 the hours sped until it was time for the 
 young man to leave. Suffice it to say it was 
 quite late when he took his departure. The 
 usual adieux were exchanged, and he again 
 remounted his horse and was soon nearing 
 the gate which opened onto the public road^ 
 There was a stone fence dividing the yard 
 from the road, and just as the young soldier 
 bent over to raise the gate latch a voice 
 sounded from within the shadow of the fence, 
 " Surrender ; you are my prisoner." 
 
 Taken by surprise Tom hesitated for an 
 instant, then gaining his presence of mind 
 and having no thought of surrender, he drew 
 one of his pistols in a flash and leveling it at 
 the head of his would-be captor, who could 
 be plainly seen now, pulled the trigger. At 
 the same time he plunged the rowels of hia 
 spurs deep into the flanks of the animal 
 which he was riding. The horse, maddened 
 by the pain inflicted, reared just as the re- 
 
HUGH DA RNA BY. 79 
 
 ports of two pistol shots rang out on the 
 night air. Tom's assailant had fired at the 
 same time that he had. The rearing of the 
 horse prevented either shot from taking 
 effect. A quick jerk of the reins now headed 
 the animal again to the road, and another 
 plunge of the spurs into his sides sent him 
 like a cannon ball at the stone fence. Over 
 he went carrying his rider with him safely 
 into the road, when he was immediately 
 headed in the direction of town. But now 
 the young officer sees that he is surrounded 
 by at least a dozen enemies. What shall he 
 do? As quick as thought he fires again, 
 throws the weapon away, draws his sabre 
 and plunges the spurs yet again into his 
 steed, from whose sides the blood was spurt- 
 ing now. The noble animal, mad beyond 
 control, leapt at the line of men drawn up 
 across the road, crushes past them, and is 
 gone on the wings of the wind. All this was 
 over in a few seconds of time, and Tom 
 Darnaby, whose blood was up now, after 
 
80 HUGH DARNABF. 
 
 cutting and slashing at the nearest as he was 
 carried past, was looking back and yelling 
 defiance as he widened the distance between 
 them. His defiance was answered by " the 
 rebel yell," and by several shots sent after 
 him. Some of the " rebs " threw themselves 
 upon their horses and gave pursuit. All 
 were good riders and all were well mounted, 
 and now commenced one of the most exciting 
 races on record. 
 
 Kentucky is noted for its swift and 
 blooded horses, and some of its best blood 
 was entered in this race. For fully three 
 miles was this race for life extended. Tom 
 Darnaby, having emptied his second revol- 
 ver, and his pursuers having sent many 
 shots after him without effect, at last ceased 
 firing, and all was staked on the speed and 
 endurance of the horses. On and on they 
 went, the dust rising in clouds, the loose 
 stones, being flung up by the hoofs of the 
 animals, kept up a continuous fusilade 
 upon the fences all the way. 
 
HUGH BARNABY. 81 
 
 At last, though dusty and pale, but with 
 clinched teeth and unmistakable resolution 
 written on his countenance, our young offi- 
 cer gained the picket lines of his friends, 
 and giving the pass-word rode into safety. 
 He thought that he had seen one or two of 
 his pursuers roll from their saddles when he 
 had shot, but no one ever knew for certain 
 whether this was a fact or not. 
 
 The next day all was as quiet and serene 
 as it had been on the preceding afternoon. 
 The story of Tom Darnaby's ride has never 
 before appeared either in history or fiction, 
 but it was never forgotten in that little com- 
 munity, where it is well known to not a few, 
 and methinks that as a daring and fleet 
 rider he will rank with Putnam or Phil 
 Sheridan. 
 
 Lieutenant Darnaby, we may be sure, 
 found a way to let the folks at home, as well 
 as those at Mr. Grigsby's, know that he was 
 safe. 
 
82 HUGH DABNABT. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 HUGH IS WOUNDED, PAYS HIS MOTHER A VISIT, 
 AND LITTLE BLACK MILLY WINS A RACE. 
 
 It was after the Pendletons bad moved to 
 Indiana, about the middle of June, 1862, 
 that a letter reached Mrs. Darnaby from 
 Hugh. It had been written several weeks 
 before. It told her of a great battle which 
 had been fought in April, and in which he 
 had taken an humble part. It spoke of the 
 hard fighting and of the numbers of the 
 killed and wounded. It told how that the 
 courage displayed on either side had been 
 splendid. How that " our side " had fought 
 like mad but had been worsted finally. 
 It told her, also, that he had been sick and 
 was just convalescing ; that he was at the 
 time of writing propped up with pillows, 
 but that soon he hoped to be able to go 
 
HUGH DARNABY. 83 
 
 about again. It told her that he was think- 
 ing of getting a furlough and of coming 
 home to see her and all the folks as soon as 
 it was safe to do so. 
 
 This letter had started from Georgia 
 while he was in hospital, some three weeks 
 after the battle of Shiloh, and it had traveled 
 slowly northward until it had at last reached 
 its destination. 
 
 He made excuses for the shortness of his 
 letter saying it was very difficult to procure 
 paper and he was still pretty weak. And 
 this was all he wrote, except that he asked 
 to be remembered to Annie Pendleton. 
 
 The newspapers still came to the " Blue 
 Grass " country, not so regularly as they 
 had a few weeks since, still the people of 
 that section had heard of the battle of 
 Shiloh, and had read of what a splendid 
 victory for the Union had been snatched 
 from the jaws of defeat. 
 
 Hugh's mother had heard with pride of 
 her eldest son's, Tom's, bravery and courage 
 
84 HUGH DARNABY. 
 
 in that battle, and that he had been com- 
 mended by his colonel for gallantry on the 
 field, and that he had received a captain's 
 commission ; but she had not heard that 
 her youngest son had been carried from that 
 same battle-field covered with blood and 
 glory. She had not heard that he had 
 ridden first and foremost into the very 
 "jaws of death"; how that his horse Joe 
 had taken him straight through a battery 
 which was belching forth fire and hail amid 
 the din and destruction which it was caus- 
 ing, nor how that the battery ceased to roar 
 and that it was his and that of his noble 
 fellows who had followed him through — 
 theirs for a brief time at least. 
 
 No high-sounding word of praise had 
 reached her ears of how, sword in hand, 
 her boy and his little band had fought hand 
 to hand with the gunners who manned the 
 battery; of how that wounded and beaten 
 by superior numbers, driven back by the 
 infantry reserve, he had ridden, still fight- 
 
HUGH BARNABY. 85 
 
 ing and bleeding, until reaching a place of 
 comparative safety he had fallen and was 
 carried away by his comrades. 
 
 She did not know that he, too, had risen 
 from the ranks, and now wore upon his 
 sleeve the velvet cuff and insignia of a first 
 lieutenant in the Confederate army. But 
 what would it have really mattered to her in 
 comparison to the knowledge that he was 
 safe and in comparative good health. His 
 letter gave her more news of him than she 
 had had for months, and her mother's heart 
 was greatly comforted, though still not 
 altogether satisfied. 
 
 It was some time during the fall of this 
 same year that a tall, dark-whiskered, slightly 
 pale-faced man rode into the yard of the 
 Darnaby home-place. He was accompanied 
 by a much smaller man, one who looked 
 wiry and active though, and whose keen 
 black eye took in every feature of the land- 
 scape. 
 
 " And this is your old home, Darnaby " ? 
 
86 HUOE DARNABT. 
 
 inquired the smaller man. " What a home- 
 like old place it is, too. I wonder how long 
 it will be before I will see my home again ? 
 I have not been back since I first enlisted, 
 and do you know, lieutenant, I have begun 
 lately to have a rather sentimental longing 
 for a strong whiff of the odor from the 
 magnolia? You have a beautiful country 
 here, and a splendid soil, but it is not the 
 same to me you know as our own rice fields 
 and sugar cane, and the wild luxuriance of 
 our forests." 
 
 " It is quite natural that you should feel 
 that way. Captain Elliott," answered Hugh 
 Darnaby, for it was he who now spoke. 
 
 " But as you say," continued he, " we have 
 a beautiful country, and I love it exceedingly 
 well. I wish we were done with fighting. I 
 sometimes think that things might have been 
 arranged differently." 
 
 They proceeded up the lawn toward the 
 house now, silently but not without attract- 
 ing the attention of the people about the 
 buildings. 
 
HUGE DARN ABT. 87 
 
 The negro portion of the population es- 
 pecially were soon on the alert, and half a 
 dozen little woolly heads were seen protruding 
 from behind house corners and through the 
 panels of the fence. It was about dusk and 
 to-morrow would be Sunday ; and Jim, yes, 
 that was Jim, came walking into the yard, 
 and as he approached the two seeming 
 strangers, he recognized his young master. 
 
 "Well, fore de Lord," he cried, " is dat you 
 Mars Hugh? Deed I'se right glad to see 
 you. De missus will be mighty glad too, 
 cause she ben thinken a heap bout you. 
 How is you ben ? Ebenin' sir," continued he, 
 bowing to Captain Elliott. "Gemmen, git 
 down and walk inter de house, I'll take yer 
 hosses." 
 
 " How do you do, Jim," said Hugh, " and 
 how is mother and everybody ? I am mighty 
 glad to get back home, Jim, and pleased to 
 see things looking so well." 
 
 He and his friend dismounted and handed 
 the bridle reins to Jim, who started toward 
 
88 HUGH DARNABT. 
 
 the stable, calling out as he went " Milly, 
 you go and tell you Mistus (Jim always said 
 Mistus when he wished to appear dignified 
 and important), "tell you Mistus dat Mars 
 Hugh have came home. Go on now and be 
 tolerable peart bout it, too." 
 
 And a small black urchin darted from 
 without the darkness, and fairly flew toward 
 the house, nothing loath to be the bearer of 
 such important news. But there were others 
 of Milly's companions who having heard the 
 message given held the same sentiments as 
 to the importance of the announcement to be 
 made as she herself ; and, although Milly had 
 been specially delegated to bear the tidings, 
 no sooner had she started than the whole 
 posse of young nigs had formed themselves 
 into a committee and were after Milly as 
 quick as thought. And now a race began 
 for the honor of " telling Old Miss," which, 
 in the earnestness of the endeavor to win, 
 was as great as any ever ran in the olden 
 time at the Olympic games. But Milly had 
 
HUGH DARNABT. 89 
 
 the start, and being very fleet of foot, in 
 addition, reached the goal first. Her little 
 black legs seemed actually to whiz as she 
 darted into the room where Mrs. Darnaby 
 sat, and breathlessly cried out, "Ole Miss, 
 Jim say Mars Hugh out yander." 
 
 It is useless to say that Mrs. Darnaby was 
 surprised, for she did not know that Hugh 
 was within a hundred miles of home; but 
 she immediately arose and went to the front 
 door. 
 
 " Lieutenant," said Captain Elliott, " you 
 will have to make excuse for our dilapidated 
 appearance." 
 
 " Oh," replied Hugh, " that will be all 
 right. Captain, I don't think we will see any- 
 body except my mother and the blacks, and 
 I have no doubt that she will be right glad 
 to see some real live rebels, though they are 
 somewhat dusty and dirty. Walk in," con- 
 tinued he, as they stepped onto the porch. 
 " Ah, there is mother waiting for us," he ex- 
 claimed. And in another moment she was 
 in his arms. 
 
90 HUGH DARNABT. 
 
 "Mother!" "My son!" were the only 
 exclamations for some moments. Then re- 
 leasing him the mother turned and said, 
 "And this is " 
 
 " Captain Elliott, my mother," said Hugh ; 
 " he is a friend of mine from our command." 
 
 " Captain Elliott," said she, " you are wel- 
 come ; walk into the house." 
 
 The Captain took occasion to retire early 
 that night so as to leave mother and son 
 together to talk without hindrance. 
 
 It is unnecessary to state that she gradu- 
 ally learned from him the principal incidents 
 of the months since he had left home, espec- 
 ially those bearing upon his personal action ; 
 or that she got from him the story of his 
 wound and of the fearful battle in which it 
 had been received. 
 
 It is not necessary to say that she told 
 him that his father was away in Louisville ; 
 that the Pendletons had moved to Indiana, 
 taking a good many of their negroes with 
 them ; or that Mr. Pendleton had given them 
 
HUGH BAUNABT. 91 
 
 their freedom and settled them on small 
 farms as far as he was able, as well as in the 
 small town to which he had gone in the 
 Hoosier State ; or how she told him that 
 Lieutenant Gray had left soon after he had 
 and had been killed in battle ; or how that 
 Annie Pendleton had grieved at leaving the 
 old home, and that she had asked to be re- 
 membered to him when she wrote. 
 
 The poor fellow's heart glowed at the 
 recognition of the fact that she had not for- 
 gotten him, although he was dreadfully dis- 
 appointed at not being able to see her. 
 
 Small satisfaction it was, but this was the 
 first he had heard, even indirectly, from her 
 for a long time, and he was fain to be con- 
 tent. Sufiicient is it to say that night sped 
 away, and the fore part of the next day was 
 passed in pleasant social intercourse, and 
 then the rumor of another fearful battle hav- 
 ing been fought came to them. How or 
 when the first announcement reached the 
 neighborhood will always remain a mystery. 
 
92 HUGH DARNAB 7. 
 
 The battle had beeu disastrous to the Con- 
 federates, and sooner than Hugh had ex- 
 pected, certainly sooner than he had wished, 
 his visit came to an end. While they were 
 in the stable looking after the feeding and 
 grooming of his own and Captain Elliott's 
 horses preparatory to their speedy departure, 
 Jim said to him, "Mars Hugh, I'se got a 
 fabor to ax you fore you goes agin." 
 " Well, Jim," said Hugh, " what is it ?" 
 *' I want's," replied the negro, " to go wid 
 you. I b'longs to de Missus, you know, and 
 I tinks she wants somebody to wait on you, 
 so I thought if you ax her she let me go 
 'long and take keer ob Joe fur you. I heard 
 de Cap'n called you Lieut'nt, an' you can't 
 rub down you own horse now. I knows 
 that cause you is a ossifer now." 
 
 Hugh was touched by the evident devo- 
 tion of the negro and felt tempted to accept 
 his offer, but remembered that he really had 
 no right to do so. " But, Jim," he replied, 
 " you don't belong to me, and although I 
 
HUGE DARNABY. 95 
 
 would like very much to have you with me 
 I would not have any right to take you. 
 You see I can't ask my mother to lend you 
 to me for it is not at all certain that either 
 of us would ever get back." 
 
 " Now, Mars Hugh," said Jim, " you might 
 ax her to lend me to you till de war is ober." 
 And more to please Jim than from any 
 hope that such a request would be granted, 
 he promised to speak to his mother about it. 
 Really Jim was the property of Mrs. 
 Darnaby in her own right. He had been 
 given to her by her father when he was a 
 little bit of a picayune. He and Hugh had 
 grown up together and were very fond of 
 each other. 
 
 That attachment had sprung up between 
 them which was often exemplified in the 
 lives of the young master and servant, as 
 well as between the young mistress and maid- 
 Often the relations between the ruling 
 members of the family and the domestics in 
 the South were such as to engender kindness 
 
94 HUGH DARNABT. 
 
 and consideration on the one side and faith- 
 fulness and trust on the other. Hugh would 
 have liked to have Jim with him, for he 
 knew that he would have been served faith- 
 fully and lovingly. And he did speak to his 
 mother, as he had promised, in relation to 
 this matter, and without much hesitation, 
 but much to his surprise, she agreed that he 
 should have Jim's services until he should 
 come home again or until the war was over, 
 provided Jim was still willing to go. When 
 questioned about it he immediately replied, 
 " Yes, Missus, I wants to go berry much. 
 An I thinks it be fur de repertation ob de 
 fambly dat Mars Hugh hab somebody ter 
 wait on him and ter take keer ob his hoss, an 
 I don know ob nobody kin do it any better'n 
 Jim kin. Ob cose I likes to stay wid de 
 Missus ef she need me, but she don peer to 
 much as Mars Hugh do." 
 
 "Well, Jim," said Mrs. Darnaby, "you 
 can go, and now you must be a good boy 
 and take care of Mars Hugh." " Tes'm," 
 
HUGH DARN ABY. 95 
 
 answered Jim, and a broad grin overspread 
 his whole countenance. " I thank you, 
 Missus. I will take good keer ob Mars 
 Hugh fer you and bring him back, too." 
 
 " Well, then, Jim, that is a promise, and 
 you must take care of yourself, too ; so 
 good-by and God bless you both." 
 
 " Good-by, Missus, God bress you," and 
 he started toward the cabin to make a few 
 hasty preparations for the journey. 
 
 He proceeded to his own room, took from 
 a closet his " Sunday clothes " and a couple 
 of clean shirts, and dressed himself. 
 
 In looking over the clothes he wished to 
 take with him he found that there was a 
 button off of one of the shirts. He hallooed 
 down the stairs, " Say, Mandy, kin you sew 
 a button fur me?" And a voice replied, 
 " Guess I kin." Then, after a pause, " Mus 
 be gwine somewhar t'night or t'morrow. 
 "You is a right smart gal, Mandy," said Jim, 
 coming down the stairs with a garment need- 
 ing attention in his hand. " You is a right 
 
96 HUGH DARNABT. 
 
 smart gal, but you ain't quite smart nuff to 
 know whar Jim gwine dis time." 
 
 " Whew," she whistled, " You is done up 
 spruse. Pears like you is in a big hurry 
 to git away, anyhow, whareber you is gwine." 
 
 Jim knew that he did not have much time 
 to talk, so he said "Mandy, you is a good 
 gal, an I thinks right smart ob you." " Oh 
 you go way from here, Jim," she retorted, 
 "You don think as much ob me as you dose 
 ob Pendleton's Em. Soon 's you git dat 
 button sewed on you don keer nothing bout 
 Mandy." "Now look here, Mandy," replied 
 he, "You jes sew dat button on, an I will 
 tell you whar Ise gwine." 
 
 And curiosity to know more conquered 
 her coquettishness, and she took the garment 
 and began fastening the button on. As Jim 
 witnessed the celerity with which the needle 
 flew he began to talk. 
 
 " Ise gwine to de wah wid Mars Hugh." 
 
 She almost jumped from her chair. " No !'* 
 ejaculated she, " not to de wah ? " 
 
HUOH DARNAB Y. 97 
 
 " Yes I is, Mandy. An you won't see me 
 fur a long time, and maybe neber." The 
 fact was that Jim had been making quite a 
 shine to Mandy, as the darkies used to say, 
 and now the result was that the button was 
 quickly sewed on. And then Jim made his 
 peace with her, as well as certain arrange- 
 ments for the future before going away. 
 
98 HUGH DARNABT. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE BATTLE OF PERRYYILLE IS FOUGHT. THE 
 NEGROES ARE EMANCIPATED. THE WAR IS 
 OVER, AND HUGH COMES HOME. 
 
 It was a good many miles, forty, perhaps,. 
 to the scene of the battle which had caused 
 the abbreviation of Hugh's visit to his home. 
 Monday after the day on which he and 
 Captain Elliott left was hot, though it was 
 past the time for summer heats. The sun 
 burned through to the shoulders of the 
 persons who were out from beneath the 
 shelter of the roofs or trees. The dust lay 
 thick and powdered in the roads, and the 
 grass was parched and lifeless in the fields. 
 The only things which seemed to be enjoy- 
 ing life, even in the smallest degree, were 
 the few remaining grasshoppers. Occasion- 
 ally one of these would set up a rasping. 
 
HUOH DARNABY. 99 
 
 aggravating kind of a noise from the fence 
 corner, which made things seem hotter than 
 before. Everything was quiet and still; 
 even the cows under yonder clump of trees 
 across the road had ceased to chew the cud, 
 'and were lazily fighting the flies with their 
 tails. 
 
 People, as well as the lower animals, were 
 waiting for a breeze, or for the night to 
 come, hoping that it might cool the atmos- 
 phere. 
 
 Once in a while such days come in Octo- 
 ber in Kentucky. And the people were 
 waiting for news also. Oh, the suspense of 
 those days. Worse, far worse was it than 
 even the certainty. It was pretty generally 
 known in the neighborhood that a battle 
 had been fought ; some even declared that 
 they had heard the boom of the cannon, but 
 nothing was definitely known as to the re- 
 sult. 
 
 Mrs. Darnaby had been standing at one 
 of the front windows of the house wrapped 
 
 I 
 
100 HUOH DARNABT. 
 
 in reverie. Suddenly a little cloud of dust 
 rose from the road which ran in front of the 
 house. It attracted her attention as being 
 the one thing in the whole landscape which 
 had the energy to rise and stir itself. 
 
 She watched it, expecting to see it fall 
 again immediately whence it came, wonder- 
 ing what had caused it, wondering in that 
 abstracted, semi-conscious way in which we 
 often interest ourselves even in the most 
 trivial things, especially on such a day as 
 this, when nature as well as ourselves seem 
 to be in a dreamy state. 
 
 But the little cloud of dust did not sink 
 to earth. It grew in size and seemed to be 
 moving along the road. 
 
 What current of air could have preferred 
 the hot dusty roadway to the cooler shades 
 of the woods ? She watched it more con- 
 sciously now, trying to unravel this mystery ; 
 and presently she saw a figure moving 
 along and accompanying the cloud of dust. 
 The figure soon assumed the appearance of 
 
HUGH BARNABY. 101 
 
 a man. Nothing very strange in this. It 
 moved on, reeling. 
 
 She thought that the man was drunk, and 
 moved away from the window to get her 
 sewing. But she soon returned and sat 
 down by the same window not noticing any- 
 thing without. 
 
 She sat there and sewed for half an hour 
 perhaps, when a breath of fresh air coming 
 in at the window caused her to pause in her 
 work, and looking up, in order to try and 
 catch enough of it to fill her lungs with, she 
 saw, as her glance again took in the situa- 
 tion, that a very good-sized cloud of dust 
 had arisen from the bed of the road and 
 was following its course, and that in it were 
 several men, reeling and tottering and walk- 
 ing as do the lame and the halt. 
 
 She had not noticed it, but figures one at 
 a time had been passing for the last hour or 
 more. 
 
 Presently a little darkey came running 
 into the room with eyes as big as attenuated 
 
102 HUGH DARNABT. 
 
 moons, displaying enough " chalk " as might 
 be sufficient to supply the pupils of the dis- 
 trict school for some weeks. 
 
 '■' Ole Miss," she cried, " whole lot of men 
 ■wid blue close on is comin' down de road. 
 Mandy say dey is sodgers, but I done see 
 em hab no guns." 
 
 Then Mrs. Darnaby arose and went to the 
 front door, and she saw standing at the 
 front gate and looking through the bars a 
 Union soldier. His tongue was actually 
 hanging from his mouth, and he seemed 
 about ready to give out. He saw her, too, 
 and made motions to her as if in distress, 
 which, indeed, he was. He could hardly 
 talk, but he managed to say, " Water, 
 water." She asked him to come up to the 
 house, but he shook his head. She then 
 called to one of the negroes who was stand- 
 ing back in the yard to bring a bucket of 
 water and a cup. 
 
 When he saw it coming the eyes of the 
 soldier brightened up considerably. And 
 
HUGH BARN ABY. 103 
 
 drink ! How that poor panic-stricken sol- 
 dier did drink. 
 
 After satisfying his thirst and filling his 
 canteen with the precious liquid he thanked 
 her and would not stop longer. He told her 
 that there had been a great battle and that 
 " we were whipped badly." And no doubt 
 he was honest in that belief, for when he left 
 the field it was going wrong for his side. 
 Although he was some forty or more miles 
 from the scene of action, he seemed not yet 
 to be satisfied with the distance which lay 
 between himself and the dreaded foe. 
 
 And for the rest of that day Mrs. Dar- 
 naby and her sister and the negroes about 
 the place were kept busy carrying water for 
 the weary refugees who soon began to come 
 in increased numbers and often in small 
 squads. Very few there were who had not 
 disposed of their guns, and all were in a 
 hnrry to push on. 
 
 Several parties during the day stopped 
 long enough to get something to eat, and 
 were gone like the rest. 
 
104 HUGH DARNABY. 
 
 Very tired were these " Good Samaritans " 
 •when the shades of night closed on the 
 scene. But they all felt that they had done 
 their duty, in some measure at least, nor did 
 they regret it. 
 
 Mrs. Darnaby did not wish it to be said 
 that she had refused to alleviate distress as 
 best she could when the opportunity pre- 
 sented itself. She remembered her own 
 boys and knew that at some time they might 
 be in just such dire need as these men, and 
 she knew that she would bless the hand 
 stretched out in relief. 
 
 This is not altogether a fanciful picture of 
 the imagination, for there are those living 
 to-day who, if they will only unfold the tab- 
 lets of memory, will find there chronicled 
 just such a scene, with a few trifling changes, 
 bearing date a few hours after the battle of 
 Perryville, Kentucky. 
 
 The main facts will find reflection in the 
 minds of some, if they should chance to read 
 this little story, who having fought well 
 
HVOH DABNABT. 105 
 
 before and afterwards perhaps, are now 
 enjoying the fruits of victories well won, in 
 their declining years. 
 
 I know not who they were, nor to what 
 commands they belonged. Each one knows 
 for himself. And I do not tell this story by 
 way of reproach. But I would ask each one 
 to remember the cup of refreshing water he 
 received in his great need during the war, in 
 Kentucky, for it was given in the name of 
 humanity. 
 
 By the time darkness had well set in the 
 straggling line of men had almost ceased to 
 pass, and Mrs. Darnaby and her little force 
 retired to the house. 
 
 The dust once more settled down into the 
 road, and quiet again reigned supreme. 
 
 A few days later a Cincinnati daily newspa- 
 per reached Mrs. Darnaby, and it announced 
 that the battle of Perryville had been fought, 
 resulting in the defeat of the Confederates. 
 And a few days after Mr. Darnaby came 
 home full of the news and of enthusiasm. 
 
106 HUOH DARNABY. 
 
 He heard of Hugh's having been at home 
 and scolded his wife somewhat for having 
 let Jim and the colt he rode go away. He 
 had met Mr. Pendleton in Louisville, who 
 reported all well except Mrs. Pendleton, 
 who had been complaining ever since she 
 had left the old home. 
 
 Taking her away was like transplanting 
 some hardy shrub, taking it from the soil 
 into which it had sunk its roots deeply, 
 from that in which it had thriven for years, 
 to a new and less congenial soil, and to which 
 its roots refused to cling. 
 
 When Mr. Daruaby had been told of 
 Hugh's exploits in the military line he was 
 secretly proud of his boy, and was somewhat 
 mollified. 
 
 After this things began to assume some- 
 thing of their wonted appearance in that 
 section of the State. 
 
 The war cloud rolled away further south- 
 ward, and people began to breathe more 
 freely, and before a great while the " pro- 
 
HUGH DARNABY. 107 
 
 clamation " declaring the negroes to be free 
 came, and later still a call for them to volun- 
 teer into the military service of the United 
 States. 
 
 One or two of the colored men from Mr. 
 Darnaby's place responded to the call, while 
 others, with their families, went into the new 
 negro suburb of the town and commenced to 
 pay rent and to keep house on their own re- 
 sources, in the one or two-roomed houses 
 which had been erected for their accommo- 
 dation by some one of a speculative turn of 
 mind. Some did very well, others went to 
 the dogs. 
 
 Many of these freedmen worked when 
 they pleased, idled the greater part of the 
 time, living along the creek banks all day 
 long with fishing rods stuck in the mud, and 
 being perfectly satisfied as long as the sum- 
 mer lasted and the sun shone. And when 
 the sun was down and the winter came, they 
 spent their time frolicking, carousing, de- 
 bauching, stealing, and working when com- 
 
108 HUGH DARNABT. 
 
 pelled to do so by hunger and want. They 
 used their freedom as they pleased, not by 
 any means knowing how to make it profit- 
 able. 
 
 Living on Mr. Darnaby's place was an old 
 couple of negroes who were too old to work. 
 He had provided them with comfortable 
 quarters, with food and clothing, with many 
 of the comforts of life, and even with some 
 of the luxuries. He required of them no 
 labor. He expected them to live the balance 
 of their days where they were. But they 
 had other ideas as to what was the meaning 
 of freedom. 
 
 The}' had been freed, of course, with the 
 rest, and they thought that they must do 
 some overt act which would at once make 
 apparent the fact that they were in posses- 
 sion of this inestimable boon. 
 
 This old couple M'ere among the first to 
 leave him. Verging close on to the com- 
 pletion of their three score years and ten, 
 they must nevertheless strike out to begin 
 
HUGE DARNABY. 109 
 
 life over on a new plan. The idea of free- 
 dom had dazed this old couple ; they did 
 not feel that they were free so long as they 
 remained with Mars Darnaby. Expostula- 
 tion was in vain ; they could not be reasoned 
 with. 
 
 They had been slaves all their lives ; had 
 been born slaves, and now they were free. 
 This was all they knew ; this was all they 
 cared to know. But we cannot blame them; 
 their education in regard to the meaning of 
 civil liberty had been sadly neglected, and 
 now they were too old to begin to learn that 
 the external semblance of freedom and 
 liberty were only the results of the vital 
 principle. 
 
 It was indeed a stupendous fact that they 
 were free. It was a grand thing that it had 
 come to them even thus late in life. 
 
 It was an immense stride in the direction 
 of philanthropic and advanced thought. 
 
 But they knew it not, nor understood its 
 significance. 
 
no HUGH DARN ABT. 
 
 And let us add, in this connection, that it 
 is one of the greatest triumphs of the age in 
 philanthropic advancement that " the South 
 is glad that the negroes are free ;" that its 
 best thought recognizes the fact that now 
 the " principle " upon which they were freed 
 is the fundamental principle of free con- 
 stitutional government in our land. What 
 will eventually be the effect of their freedom 
 upon our institutions is a problem which is 
 not yet solved. 
 
 The old cook, Cilia, Mandy's mother, re- 
 fused to leave the " fambly." She had lived 
 with them for many years, ever since she was 
 a young girl in fact. She was very much 
 attached to them. She was as proud of be- 
 ing a "Darnaby nigger" as any white mem- 
 ber of the family could have been at belong- 
 ing to it, and when at the end of the first 
 week of her freedom the week's wages were 
 offered to her, she actually shed tears be- 
 cause it was thought that she expected or 
 would take the money. And it took a good 
 
HUOH DAENAB7. HI 
 
 deal of argument and much persuasion to 
 induce her finally to understand that she 
 would need it by and by, if not immediately; 
 that it was her right, and that she must take 
 it if she stayed and worked for her old 
 mistress. 
 
 Things were not very prosperous at the 
 farm after this ; in fact, the whole place had 
 been running down at the heel, as it were, 
 for some time back. But this was not until 
 along toward the close of the war. The war 
 continued for some time after this. George, 
 the brother next older than Hugh, was killed 
 at Vicksburg while doing his duty, and, like 
 many another brave man during those ter- 
 rible years, meeting his death at the front. 
 
 Hugh and his oldest brother, on opposing 
 sides, went through the hardest of the fight- 
 ing in the southwest. 
 
 Hugh had been made a captain, and at 
 last the struggle was over. The last gun 
 had been fired at Appomattox, and prepara- 
 tions were being made for a grand review of 
 
112 HUGH DARNABT. 
 
 the Union veterans at Washington city. 
 Hugh and Jim came home, Hugh still riding 
 his old war horse, Joe. Joe had his scars 
 to indicate the desperateness of the struggles 
 he had been through, and Hugh wore his 
 worn and battered uniform with the insignia 
 of his rank still on the collar. Jim had on 
 a Union cavalry jacket which he had cap- 
 tured during a raid upon a Federal camp 
 some time before. 
 
 Hugh had not surrendered up to this time. 
 He had been for some time previously away, 
 for the time being, from his command, which 
 had been captured or had scattered. 
 
 As soon as he heard of General Lee's sur- 
 render he started for home, and was, after a 
 long and tedious journey, there again. He 
 had not heard from home for some time 
 before, and being anxious to learn something 
 of the folks he passed around the town and 
 went directly to his father's house. The 
 next day he went into town, and formally 
 surrendered to the commandant there. 
 
HUGH DABNABY. 113 
 
 After some two or three weeks he began to 
 look around in the hopes of finding some- 
 thing by means of which he could make a 
 living. In fact, he began to study the situa- 
 tion, and it was about this when summed 
 up : He was a disfranchised ex-rebel soldier 
 without a cent of money in the world ; with- 
 out a business or profession of any kind ; in 
 fact, without any prospects for the future. 
 
 He had cast in his fortunes with the Con- 
 federacy, and it had ceased to exist. The 
 cause for which he and so many others had 
 given their best energies was lost. He was 
 no fool, and he saw the difficulties which lay 
 before him. 
 
 Dispirited and heavy-hearted he wandered 
 aimlessly about the place. He could not 
 and would not let his father support him. 
 Things were altogether different from what 
 they were before the war. 
 
 He could see clearly what a good many 
 did not see until later on, and that was that 
 he as well as the balance of the young men 
 
114 HUGH DARKABT. 
 
 of the South must begin to work in earnest, 
 and to work as they never had had to do be- 
 fore. His just pride chafed at the restraint 
 which he must put upon any aspirations he 
 might have. His manhood rose up in arms 
 against his enforced dependence ; besides his 
 father had not much of this world's goods 
 left except the farm. And really there was 
 not much at this time of the year that he 
 could do about the place, and it had been 
 arranged that his brother Thomas should 
 take charge of the place in the future. It 
 was too soon after the recent stirring and 
 exciting events for it to be entirely pleasant 
 for even brothers to dwell together, after 
 they had taken opposite sides in the great 
 struggle. 
 
 The father was kind to Hugh, but it was 
 almost unconsciously in a condescending 
 sort of a way which the young man could 
 not stand. 
 
 Although he was still convinced of the 
 justness of the cause in which he had so 
 
HUGH DARNABT. US 
 
 lately been engaged, he accepted the result 
 and determined that hereafter, if allowed, 
 he would act for the common weal of a com- 
 mon country, as being a small integral part 
 of the younger generation of the South. 
 
 Captain Thomas Darnaby was soon to 
 wed Florence Grigsby and to bring her 
 home to the farm. It would be rather 
 crowded for him, he thought. The only 
 place where there seemed to be plenty of 
 room for him was in his mother's heart. 
 She forgave him entirely for having been a 
 rebel soldier, because he had followed the 
 dictates of his own conscience, and she re- 
 ceived him with all a mother's love. 
 
 The prodigal had returned, and, although 
 he was not exactly sorry for what he had 
 done, still he had fed on the husks, and now 
 in her heart she killed the fatted calf for 
 him. 
 
 Possibly he had become morbidly sensi- 
 tive. Be that as it might, it was really 
 time for him to find a place among the toil- 
 
116 HUGH DARNABT. 
 
 ing millions. His mother encouraged him 
 very much during this period of waiting, 
 advising patience, and telling him that 
 things would adjust themselves in time and 
 that he would find his place in life as every 
 man and woman always did. 
 
 She spoke of the Pendletons, told him that 
 Mrs. Pendleton was dead, and had been dead 
 almost a year. She also told him that Mr. 
 Pendleton had lost a great deal of money 
 and that Annie had been teaching school 
 and giving music lessons for some months 
 in order to help eke out a living. 
 
 These things had been learned through 
 Florence Grisby, between whom and Annie 
 there had been kept up a desultory corre- 
 spondence. 
 
 His mother told him that soon after his 
 visit home in 1862 Florence had written to 
 Annie and told her of his wound and that 
 he had been honored and had risen from the 
 ranks to a lieutenancy, and that Annie had 
 answered expressing her gratification at the 
 
HUGH DARNABY. II7 
 
 latter, but that since then there had been no 
 allusion to the subject. 
 
 The mother told him that she had sur- 
 mised his attachment to Annie, and she 
 sought to give him hope in respect to that 
 also. 
 
 But his heart would rebel in spite of him- 
 self, because he was unable to go to her now 
 in her trouble. 
 
118 HUGH DARNABY. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 COUNTY COURT DAY EN KENTUCKY. HUGH STUDIES 
 LAW. 
 
 About a month had elapsed since Hugh 
 had arrived home. He was in town one day — 
 it was county court day. This is a day on 
 which the farmers gather in numbers in the 
 small towns throughout Central Kentucky. 
 
 Cattle, mules, sheep and hogs are driven 
 into the towns in droves and are put on the 
 market on the public squares. It is the day 
 for trading and trafficking of all kinds. It is 
 the day when the voice of the auctioneer, 
 who, by the way, is quite an indispensable 
 character in the " Blue Grass " region, is 
 heard ringing out in clarion tones across the 
 public squares of the different towns. 
 
 Sometimes as many as a half dozen of 
 these voluble gentlemen are heard at the 
 
EUOH DARNABY. 119 
 
 same time praising the goods entrusted to 
 their skill in selling, telling jokes, and keep- 
 ing the crowd in a good humor, beseeching, 
 inducing them by any and all means to buy. 
 
 Horses are sold, bank stock changes 
 hands, houses and farms are auctioned off 
 to the highest bidder. Buggies, farming 
 implements, harness, ploughs, household 
 goods, any and every conceivable thing or 
 commodity on which a value can be put, is 
 brought to this market and exposed to the 
 public inspection on county court day. 
 
 As I have intimated, almost every one, who 
 can travel at all, from the country for miles 
 around comes to town on that day. Some 
 come to loaf around the stores and drinking 
 saloons and to spend the day in talk and 
 gossip, to play billiards and to drink to- 
 gether. It is the one day in the week that 
 a good many farmers wear a " biled shirt " 
 and clean collar. 
 
 These business and semi-social gatherings 
 had been somewhat interrupted during the 
 
120 HUGH DARNABT. 
 
 war, but had been resumed within the last 
 few months with renewed vigor and were 
 attended in increased numbers. 
 
 The majority of the men had been away 
 to the war on the one side or the other. 
 Some had stayed at home and held their 
 opinions in regard to the merits of the issue 
 therein contested. 
 
 Most of those who came back, and all of 
 those who had remained, still held their 
 opinions, possibly modified to a degree, 
 especially on the part of those who had taken 
 part in the fighting. 
 
 The deplorable, the inevitable, consequence 
 was, that the opinions of these men brought 
 into personal contact, often while under the 
 influence and excitement of strong drink, 
 clashed quite frequently. 
 
 Consideration for those holding opposing 
 opinions was not as pronounced as it is gen- 
 erally supposed to be in Christian communi- 
 ties, and frequent personal encounters fol- 
 lowed, sometimes resulting in the killing of 
 
HUGH DARNABT. 121 
 
 one or more persons, at other times in seri- 
 ous bodily injury. 
 
 It was thought unsafe to go unarmed, and 
 the ready weapon was brought into frequent 
 use. About this time the retailing of what 
 became known as fighting whiskey became 
 very profitable, and even those who could 
 afford to indulge in " fancy brands " were not 
 entirely exempt from the predominating in- 
 fluence of the baser liquid. 
 
 As it happened, Hugh escaped any per- 
 sonal encounter of a very serious character, 
 only on one occasion. Some months after this 
 when he was returning to his lodgings, after, 
 nightfall, having come to town to live, a man 
 who was a general bully in the community, 
 and had no principles or fixed convictions of 
 any kind, except that all whiskey was good, 
 undertook, while under the influence of 
 liquor, to stop Hugh on the street and 
 lecture him, as well as to state his maudlin 
 opinions of the " d — n rebels," and particu- 
 larly of Hugh's action during the war in not 
 very complimentary terms. 
 
122 HUGH DARNAB7. 
 
 The result was that Hugh lost control of 
 himself, and all the pent-up feeling and the 
 dormant energy in him burst forth, and as 
 quick as lightning he dealt the man a blow 
 full in the face which sent the bully sprawl- 
 ing onto the pavement. And this action of 
 Hugh's was followed up by giving the man a 
 sound thrashing which he never forgot. Of 
 course, a crowd had gathered by this time, 
 and the next morning Hugh was arrested, 
 plead guilty to a charge of assault and bat- 
 tery, and Captain Tom Darnaby, Hugh's 
 brother, came to the rescue and paid the fine, 
 thereby closing forever whatever breach of 
 feeling might have been made between them 
 on account of their different sentiments on 
 the war issues. 
 
 In the next chapter we will give an inci- 
 dent in our hero's life which fully acquitted 
 him of any charge of rashness of which he 
 might have been guilty on this occasion. 
 
 But for the present we will resume our 
 narrative in the regular course of events. 
 
HUGH DARNABT. 123 
 
 As we have before stated Hugh was in 
 town on county court day, some short time 
 after he had returned home, and not having 
 anything in particular to do, he loafed around 
 from store to store, and occasionally went 
 into the public square to listen to the auc- 
 tioneers talking and selling the different 
 articles placed on the market. 
 
 Looking on he thought that he might be- 
 come an auctioneer. It required no capital 
 except a pair of good lungs, a fund of jokes, 
 and a ready wit. Did he possess these? 
 The lungs he knew he had, and he knew 
 some good jokes ; but he was not so certain 
 that he possessed the last-mentioned re- 
 quisite. 
 
 The fact was that Hugh had a good deal 
 of dry humor, but was not ready enough 
 with it to make a very successful auctioneer. 
 So he concluded that he should have to give 
 up that idea, and he turned away with a 
 sigh. 
 
 Being near the office of an old comrade in 
 
124 HUGH DARNABY. 
 
 arms, who had been a lawyer before the war 
 and who had essayed to resume the practice 
 of his profession since his return, pending 
 his restoration to citizenship, Hugh entered 
 the door. 
 
 " Good morning. Major," he said as he 
 entered, " I was not particularly busy to-day 
 as you may surmise, so I thought I would 
 come in and sit a few minutes, if I will not 
 be in the way." 
 
 "Well, Captain," said Major Brown, "I 
 am glad to see you ; have a chair. Business 
 is not so brisk but that I have time to talk 
 to my old friends when they come in. How 
 are you getting along, old fellow, since you 
 came back home? I fancy things are not 
 quite as they were, my boy. " These two 
 men had met quite frequently during the 
 war, and each had seen the other tried, and 
 each knew the other was as true as steel. 
 
 " You have made yourself pretty scarce 
 lately, but I suppose, like the rest of us ex- 
 rebel soldiers, you have been looking around 
 
HUGH DARNABY. 125 
 
 for something to do, and that has kept you 
 pretty busy I imagine." 
 
 " Well, Major," replied Captain Darnaby, 
 " it is true I have been looking around try- 
 ing to find an opening, but as yet nothing 
 has seemed to open. To be serious, I think 
 I shall have to strike out for the * far West,' 
 and take my chance of starving there. The 
 fact is, I am in pretty hard luck." 
 
 " Look here, Hugh Darnaby," said the 
 Major, " you are a young man yet, and things 
 are going to be better for us here before very 
 long. Don't you go away. Why don't you 
 study law, and put up your shingle right here 
 at home ? You've got sense enough to make 
 a success of it, and I think that you have the 
 pluck to wait for a practice. If you want to 
 try it you can study here in my office. 
 
 "I have a few books left," he continued, 
 " and you are welcome to the use of them. I 
 should be more than pleased to give you any 
 assistance in my power." 
 
 "You are certainly very kind, Major," 
 
 I 
 
126 HUGH DARNABF. 
 
 said Hugh, " and I don't know but what it 
 might be a good idea ; at least it is the only 
 thing like encouragement that has come to 
 me yet." 
 
 " Now, Hugh," said the Major, " if you do 
 undertake this thing you must go into it with 
 a determination to make a success of it. It 
 is no child's play to become a lawyer, but I 
 believe you can do it if you but once make 
 up your mind to." 
 
 "Well, Major," said Hugh, "I must do 
 something, and, thanking you for your kind 
 offer, I will think the matter over for a few 
 days. You understand that my hesitancy is 
 not on account of my not appreciating the 
 fact that all the obligation is on my side, 
 but you know that this is a thing which, 
 when once settled, will influence my whole 
 future perhaps, Major, and a person must 
 not be precipitate in such matters. I shall 
 determine one way or the other before many 
 days, for I have no time to lose, and then I 
 shall let you know what conclusion I have 
 come to. 
 
HUGE DARNABY. 127 
 
 "All rigbt," said the Major, " take your 
 own time, my boy ; you are right to think 
 before you leap." 
 
 A client came in at this stage of the con- 
 versation, and Hugh soon after took his 
 leave. He did think this matter over, and 
 talk it over, too, with his mother. 
 
 Ah, when do we grow too old or too wise 
 to talk matters over with mother ? Surely 
 not until contact with actual living sin has 
 killed the better part of our nature. What 
 man is there among us who does not seek 
 woman's council, or who is he who does 
 not always find sound, practical suggestions 
 from a good wife's store of wisdom ? 
 
 Despise it not, ye men of the world. Make 
 your wife interested in your affairs by giv- 
 ing her a voice in your deliberations, and I 
 will venture to say that full often you will 
 be surprised at the acuteness of her percep- 
 tions. 
 
 Let me beseech you to look on the marital 
 relation as one of mutual interests. 
 
128 HTIQB DARNABY. 
 
 Do you think that your wife has no 
 capacity for business? Have you chosen 
 for her the gay butterfly existence which so 
 many live ? Then don't be surprised if she 
 lives that life. If you are content that she 
 should live in that manner, well and good. 
 But if you feel that there should be some- 
 thing different, give her a chance ; develop 
 her, make a companion of her, show her 
 that she has an interest in the success or 
 failure of your undertakings, and in nine 
 cases out of ten you will find her aid invalu- 
 able. 
 
 When the ardor of passionate love has 
 begun to cool, then begin to weave your life 
 into hers, make your interests mutual, and 
 open to her the door of your thoughts. You 
 will find the door of hers standing ajar. 
 Enter and you will find treasures untold. 
 You will find the true meaning of love, and 
 you will gain a friend, dearer, truer and 
 more constant than all others. 
 
 But I have lost the thread of my story, 
 
HUGH DA RNAB F. 129 
 
 and I shall not apologize for this digression. 
 Skip it, you who object to moralizing, but 
 you who do read it let the seed sown fall 
 where it may perchance take root and in 
 time bear fruit. 
 
 On the next Saturday afternoon Hugh 
 Daruaby rode his horse Joe into town and 
 hitched him to the rack in front of Major 
 Brown's ofl&ce. Having dismounted, the 
 young man walked into the office and told 
 the Major that he would accept his kind 
 offer and begin reading law on the Monday 
 following, provided that the Major had not 
 repented of bis suggestion. 
 
 Now Major Brown was a man who never 
 did things by halves ; in fact, he was con- 
 stantly doing good in his day and generation, 
 in his whole-souled, unobtrusive way, and 
 we may well surmise that he was still agree- 
 able to the arrangement suggested to Hugh 
 Darnaby. Besides, he really had a liking for 
 the young man and believed in a future 
 for him. 
 
130 HVOH DARNABY. 
 
 Major Brown's office was a one-storied 
 brick building with two rooms, one in the 
 rear of the other. It was situated directly 
 on the street which ran along one side of the 
 public square, and directly opposite the 
 court-house. It was a splendid position for 
 a law office. 
 
 Well, Monday morning came, and with it 
 came Hugh to commence his new lifework. 
 He had thought deeply in regard to this 
 matter of choosing a profession, and had 
 determined that he would succeed if it were 
 possible to do so. 
 
 As time went on he studied hard, often 
 spending six or seven hours a day over his 
 books in the back room of Major Brown's 
 office. It was weary work ; but the thorough 
 appreciation of the fact that he must never 
 give up bore him through. 
 
 He saw from observation and conversa- 
 tion with Major Brown, and by studying the 
 character of the litigation in the courts, that 
 there would be plenty of work for lawyers to 
 
HUGH DARNABT. 131 
 
 do in these days, in the way of fixing up old 
 matters and in adjusting the new, which had 
 been either left unfinished at the breaking 
 out of the war, or having grown out of the 
 division of sentiment consequent on the 
 same. 
 
 Later on the rights of citizenship were 
 restored to the ex-Confederate soldier in Ken- 
 tucky. Good friends they had in the legis- 
 lature, undoubtedly true and faithful Union 
 men, men whose loyalty could not be 
 impeached, but who looked upon the ex- 
 Confederate as a brother, an erring brother 
 perhaps, but still as a brother who, having 
 been chastised in proportion to the serious- 
 ness of his ofi'ence against their common 
 mother, the State, and against the great sis- 
 terhood of States, should now be restored 
 to fraternal love, with its consequent rights 
 in the family. And there were those in, 
 Washington who, while they hated the sin, 
 had not learned to sin themselves by hating 
 
132 HUGH DARNAB7. 
 
 the sinner. And the efforts of these last 
 were paving the way toward reconstruction 
 on a just basis tempered with that Godlike 
 quality, mercy. 
 
HUGH DARNAB Y. 133 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 AN EXCITING ELECTION AT WHICH HUGH ASSISTS 
 IN PREVENTING TROUBLE. 
 
 It was about six or eight months after 
 Hugh Darnaby began to study law — months 
 of hard study, of intense and earnest appli- 
 cation, months in which Major Brown ren- 
 dered him invaluable service by timely sug- 
 gestion and explanation, that he applied for 
 admission to the bar, and was ready to enter 
 the lists of professional men. 
 
 Of course, he had previously obtained his 
 license, having undergone an examination as 
 to his qualifications before one of the judges 
 of the Court of Appeals. And now he hung 
 out his " shingle," new and bright with gilt 
 letters, and bearing the simple legend, 
 " Hugh Darnaby, Attorney-at-Law." 
 
 He had lived up to this time at his father's 
 on the farm, rendering such assistance about 
 
134 HUaS DARNABT. 
 
 the place as time and opportunity had per- 
 mitted. In the meantime Captain Thomas 
 Darnaby had married, and had brought his 
 young and beautiful bride to the old home. 
 
 Florence, the new sister, and Hugh had 
 become great friends during this time, for 
 Hugh was always polite and considerate to 
 ladies. 
 
 Things at the farm had become more 
 pleasant to him. The father had put aside 
 any feeling he had had because of Hugh's 
 having gone into the Confederate army, and 
 Tom and he had learned to talk over war 
 times and to fight their battles over by the 
 blazing fire of an evening, with real pleasure. 
 Each seemed to have agreed within himself 
 to accept things as they were and to make 
 the best of them. After all, they were mem- 
 bers of the same family. The same blood 
 coursed through their veins, except those of 
 the young wife, and she was now one of them, 
 made such by a tie as sacred as that of blood. 
 In short, it was once more a united house- 
 hold. 
 
HUGH DARNABY. 135 
 
 Tom's wife was very pretty and very 
 lovable, and, although she had a brother who 
 had been in the Union army, and who was 
 now taking his father's place on the farm as 
 best he could with one arm in his coat sleeve, 
 still she almost always took Hugh's part in 
 the frequent discussions, now become friendly, 
 which took place in the old sitting room. 
 
 She loved her husband intensely ; this was 
 evident to the most casual observer; but it 
 was that instinctive element in woman's 
 character which makes her sympathize with 
 and anxious to render what assistance is 
 possible to the weaker side, to the one out- 
 numbered, which caused her to side with 
 Hugh so frequently. And her husband 
 understood her motive. 
 
 Hugh walked into the room one afternoon 
 where his mother and Florence were sitting, 
 and announced that he was a free man once 
 more and a citizen of the United States ; that 
 he had taken the oath of allegiance to sup- 
 port the Constitution, and to observe the 
 
136 HUGH DARN ABY. 
 
 laws, and, said he, " Mother, my heart was in 
 the words as I repeated the form of the oath." 
 
 Soon after he left the old home, the home 
 in which he had been born and which he 
 loved beyond measure. Every nook and 
 corner, every tree on the old place, was dear 
 to him. He moved into the back room of 
 Major Brown's office. The Major owned the 
 office, and would not charge him any rent 
 for the room. He told Hugh to wait until 
 he began to make something out of his prac- 
 tice and that then if he wished to do so he 
 could pay him what he felt able to. 
 
 More than once during the next year Hugh 
 Darnaby's heart and courage almost failed 
 him, as day after day he sat poring over his 
 books, or waited, expectantly at first, then 
 listlessly, then almost hopelessly. Major 
 Brown often spoke encouraging words to 
 him during this trying time. The Major's 
 business had begun to pick up almost im- 
 mediately upon the removal of his political 
 disabilities, and had by this time increased 
 
HUOH DARNABY. 137 
 
 to a considerable extent; indeed so much so 
 that his time was fully occupied. 
 
 Very frequently, of late, he had given 
 Hugh a certain class of writing to do, such 
 as copying legal documents, drawing up 
 deeds and mortgages, writing petitions, etc., 
 all of which tended to familiarize him with 
 the practical part of his profession. 
 
 It happened that while things were in this 
 uncertain state, as regards Hugh's profes- 
 sional success, an election took place, at 
 which the ex-Confederates, as well as the 
 emancipated slaves, were expected to exer- 
 cise the right of suffrage. It was to be the 
 first time that the negroes ever voted in that 
 county and town, and a good many cool- 
 headed people were fearful that there would 
 be trouble. 
 
 The place for voting was to be at the court- 
 house, and the judges and clerks of election 
 occupied the space in one of the ground- 
 floor rooms, just in front of a window. In 
 order to prevent any jostling in, as far as 
 
138 HUGH DARNABT. 
 
 possible, which might induce personal 
 encounters between the whites and the 
 blacks, it was thought best to erect a high 
 and strong board partition extending at right 
 angles from the window where the ballots 
 were to be cast and which divided the poll- 
 ing place. 
 
 The colored population who were entitled 
 to vote were to approach the ballot box on 
 the left of this partition, and the whites on 
 the right. During the morning the excite- 
 ment ran pretty high and seemed to be on 
 the increase as the day advanced, and the 
 frequent indulgence in " drinks " did not 
 serve to allay it. 
 
 There was a man of desperate character 
 in the town, one of violent passions, who 
 had already killed more than " his man." 
 
 This fellow had been drinking consider- 
 ably during the day and had been bringing 
 the negroes to the polls since early morning. 
 Of course, there was more than the usual 
 challenging, and some of those who claimed 
 
HUGH DARNABY. 139 
 
 the privilege of depositing their ballots were 
 denied the right. At last this man of whom 
 we have been speaking brought a negro to 
 the poll and o£fered to vote him. Now it 
 happened that this negro's right to vote was 
 challenged, and in this particular instance 
 the Republican judge coincided with his 
 Democratic colleagues in deciding that the 
 negro could not be allowed to deposit his 
 ballot, and having personal knowledge in re- 
 gard to the facts, told the aforementioned 
 desperate character that there should not 
 be any illegal votes cast on either side if he 
 could help it, and he knew that he did not 
 want any such cast on his side. 
 
 This so infuriated the bully, whom we 
 shall, for reasons satisfactory to ourself, call 
 John Bills, that he said, " And you say this 
 to me," at the same time leaping over the sill 
 of the window into the room where the 
 judges were, and cried, " Seize the ballot 
 box." 
 
 This, of course, threw things into the ut- 
 
140 HUGH DABNABY. 
 
 most confusion. It happened that a window 
 shutter lay across the top of a box in the 
 room near the clerk's table, and seizing this 
 John Bills raised it high above his head with 
 the intention of dashing it at the head of the 
 judge who he considered had undertaken to 
 reprimand him. And undoubtedly he would 
 have dashed his brains out but that some- 
 thing in the eye that looked unflinchingly 
 into his arrested the action just long enough 
 for the judge to say, " What do you "want to 
 kill me for, John ; have I not always been 
 your friend?" 
 
 And that little delay saved his life, for 
 another idea seemed to take possession of 
 his mind, for he threw the shutter down on 
 the floor, and turned and grabbed the ballot- 
 box. The clerks and sheriffs and all other 
 persons in the immediate vicinity had fled. 
 
 At this instant the Republican sheriff of 
 election who had left the room a few mo- 
 ments before the difficulty had begun, en- 
 tered, and, taking in the situation at a 
 
HV OH DA RNA BY. 141 
 
 glance, and knowing the man with whom he 
 had to deal, sprang upon him as quick as 
 lightning, at the same time drawing his re- 
 volver and leveling it at his head, grabbed 
 Bills by the collar. 
 
 " Drop that box, John Bills, or I'U kill 
 you as I would a dog." 
 
 Bills looked the sheriff in the eye for a 
 second and then let the ballot-box fall upon 
 the table where it belonged. 
 
 "Now," said the sheriff, "you come to 
 jail with me." 
 
 And so the arrest was made, but the mat- 
 ter was not pushed, and Bills was soon re- 
 leased. 
 
 Instead of quieting down, however, Bills 
 proceeded up town and commenced drink- 
 ing heavily, and haranguing the negroes in 
 every grog shop he entered, telling them 
 that their rights were being trampled on, 
 and that if they did not use force their side 
 would lose the election, and they would be 
 put back into slavery. 
 
142 HVOH DARNABT. 
 
 Already excited to a very high pitch and 
 maddened by whiskey to a degree almost 
 beyond control, they believed what he told 
 them, and it so happened that in an incred- 
 ibly short space of time a mob of two or 
 three hundred negroes were armed and on 
 the public square which surrounds the court- 
 house. 
 
 In front of these John Bills threw himself 
 and assumed their leadership. He quickly 
 formed them into line, and began to incite 
 them to immediate and desperate action. 
 
 On the other hand the whites, mostly ex- 
 Confederate soldiers, as fast as possible, 
 armed themselves from the hardware stores 
 and gun shops with pistols, shot-guns, and 
 whatever weapon they could procure, and 
 formed an opposing line just across the 
 square. Soon the stores had sold out their 
 entire stock of weapons, and a word would 
 have precipitated the affair into a scene of 
 bloodshed and dire confusion, when a form 
 was seen suddenly to shoot into the space 
 
HUOH DARNABT. ' 143 
 
 between the hostile lines, and a voice was 
 heard crying, " Fellow citizens, stop a mo- 
 ment and listen." 
 
 Immediately afterwards two or three 
 other persons were standing in this space, 
 exhorting, haranguing, expostulating, rea- 
 soning with the angry men on either side, 
 who were about to become a bloody and 
 uncontrolable mob. And having gained the 
 attention of those whom they addressed, 
 these men ceased not their efforts to stem 
 the current of bitter and angry feeling until 
 it was done. 
 
 Blessed are the peacemakers. Surely 
 these men will meet their reward when all 
 things become known and are finally adjusted 
 according to eternal justice and mercy. The 
 men who had thus nobly and heroically 
 braved the fury of the mob were our friend 
 Hugh Darnaby, the mayor of the town, a 
 Democrat, the Eepublicau sheriff of the 
 election, and the United States marshal for 
 that district. When it was all over Hugh 
 
144 HUGH DABNABT. 
 
 went back to bis office in tbe rear of Major 
 Brown's, very pale, very tired, but exceed- 
 ingly glad. And tbe action of tbat day bore 
 fruit in tbe good will and respect of tbe 
 wbole community. 
 
 Time went on, and at last Hugb was 
 startled almost out of bis cbair by tbe 
 abrupt entrance of a person into tbe front 
 room of tbe office. Major Brown bappened 
 to be in at tbe time, and calling tbe person 
 by name as be answered bis question, be 
 said, " Yes, Mr. Darnaby is in tbe back 
 room. Just step in tbere." And tbus Hugb 
 secured bis first client, and would try bis 
 first case at tbe next term of tbe court. He 
 was as bappy as a scbool boy. So mucb 
 elated was be tbat be walked out borne tbat 
 very evening — be still called tbe old place 
 borne — to tell tbe good news to bis motber. 
 
 Hugb Darnaby was a very brigbt man, 
 but witbal very simple-bearted. He was 
 still very mucb of a boy in many tbings. Of 
 course, all tbe bome folks gave him all tbe 
 
HUOH DARN A BY. 145 
 
 sympathy that was expected and predicted 
 great things for him in the future. 
 
 In all these months he had not forgotten 
 his early love for Annie Pendleton, and he 
 had wished to go to her, and, if possible, 
 save her from the necessity of making her 
 own living. But what had he to offer her ? 
 He was hardly making enough yet, with 
 some occasional help the home people could 
 give him, to support himself alone, and he 
 would not think of asking her to share with 
 him even a greater poverty than that which 
 she might be now contending against. 
 
 So, baffled and discouraged, he had decided 
 to wait awhile in the hope that things would 
 improve financially. Besides, he did not 
 know but that her feelings toward him had 
 changed in the length of time since he had 
 seen her. He thought for awhile that he 
 would write to her, remind her of her promise 
 to him when he left home for the war, and 
 tell her that his heart was still hers ; but 
 what could he sav to her in a letter that 
 
146 UGH DARNAB T. 
 
 would be at all satisfactory — what had he 
 to offer her any way ? Should he ask her 
 to wait on indefinitely until he was in a 
 position to offer her marriage with any 
 reasonable expectation of being able to give 
 her the comforts of life ? Would it not seem 
 rather presumptuous to write at all on this 
 subject after so great a length of time ? He 
 could not bring himself to write under the 
 circumstances. Poor fellow ! If he could 
 have gone to her and offered her his heart 
 and hand as he had done, oh, so long ago it 
 seemed to him, he would have done so. 
 But he could not; the war had changed 
 everything. Time had changed many things 
 it was true. It had changed her from a girl 
 into a woman at least. He himself was 
 changed in many respects, and might she, 
 too, not have changed in more respects than 
 having grown older ? He must wait. 
 
 Soon a letter came from Annie Pendleton 
 to Florence, stating that her father had been 
 stricken with paralysis and was almost help- 
 less. 
 
HUGH DARNABY. 147 
 
 And after this these two lives, those of 
 Hugh and Annie, drifted farther apart for a 
 time. 
 
 The term of court, at which Hugh was to 
 try his pinions as a lawyer came on in due 
 time, and to make a long story short, he won 
 his case and pocketed his first fee. 
 
 It was at this term that through the 
 whispered suggestion of Major Brown, the 
 court appointed Captain Hugh Darnaby to 
 defend a poor negro, who was unable to 
 employ council. 
 
 This negro had been indicted for murder. 
 Hugh was taken completely by surprise, but 
 managed to ask the court for time in which 
 to consult with the prisoner, nor did he 
 much like the task which had been assigned 
 to him. 
 
 He feared that the negro's guilt was a 
 foregone conclusion, and that he would be 
 enabled to make but a poor showing before 
 a jury. Nevertheless, he must do what he 
 could for the poor fellow, and after consult- 
 
148 HUOH BARNABT. 
 
 ing with tbe prisoner, lie began to think that 
 there was a chance for him, and that after 
 all only appearances were against his client. 
 So it happened that Captain Hugh Darnaby, 
 he who had faced death at the mouth of the 
 roaring cannon, and had done more than one 
 deed of valor in the face of the enemy, stood 
 trembling, yet determined, before the court, 
 and stated what he expected to be able to 
 prove in defence of the prisoner by certain 
 eye-witnesses to the tragedy, which resulted 
 in the death of a human being, provided he 
 might have the opportunity to produce these 
 witnesses before the court. He stated 
 further that on account of the ignorance of 
 the prisoner as to what rights he had in the 
 premises, and on account of his friendless 
 condition, his case had been entirely neg- 
 lected, and that a great wrong would be done, 
 unintentionally, of course, if a request for 
 time, which request he now made, was not 
 granted, in which to subpoena witnesses, 
 and in which to further prepare the case for 
 trial. 
 
HUGH DARNABY. I49 
 
 He would not, however, ask for further 
 delay than that the court should set some 
 day toward. the end of the term for the trial. 
 And the court did grant his request, and set 
 a day just one week oflf. 
 
 Hugh now went to work in earnest. He 
 did not let a moment slip by. He even used 
 a part of his fee, received in the first case in 
 which he was retained, hired a horse and 
 buggy and assisted the sheriff in hunting up 
 the witnesses, for, in addition to the stimulus 
 lent to his exertions by the consciousness 
 that his whole future depended in great 
 measure on the way in which he managed 
 the case, he believed, from what the negro 
 had told him, that the homicide of which he 
 was charged had been committed in self- 
 defence. 
 
 He believed that he was on the right aide 
 this time, and he determined, if possible, to 
 make it clear to the jury which would sit in 
 judgment on the actions of the prisoner in 
 this matter, that he was right. He became 
 
150 HUGH DARNABT. 
 
 intensely interested before the day set for 
 the trial came. 
 
 He forgot to think of himself finally, as 
 well as of any stake in the matter of reputa- 
 tion which might be involved, and became 
 so thoroughly convinced of the negro's inno- 
 cence of the crime as charged against him 
 that he determined, if in his power, to se- 
 cure his acquittal. It became as a sacred 
 trust to him, and he fully understood the 
 grave responsibility resting upon him ; and 
 the same spirit which Major Brown had 
 seen dominate Hugh in battle took posses- 
 sion of him as the time for the issue ap- 
 proached. He had determined to win for 
 the sake of justice and in the interest of 
 humanity ; and he would not fail. Hugh 
 had become quite popular, socially, in the 
 town since he had come to live in it, and 
 especially among the ladies, who had learned 
 the history of his military career and were 
 disposed to make a lion of him on account 
 of it. 
 
HUOE DABNABT. 151 
 
 Major Brown, during the last week, had 
 taken particular pains to announce every- 
 where he went, to his clients and friends, 
 that Captain Hugh Darnaby was going to 
 make his maiden speech in a murder trial, 
 and that he predicted for him a grand suc- 
 cess, saying, " The young fellow is in earnest, 
 and if you had seen him fighting, as I have 
 seen him, with his whole soul in it, just as 
 if he thought that the success or failure of 
 the Confederacy depended on him alone, 
 you would understand why I expect a hard 
 fight on his part this time." 
 
 " I don't know anything about his line of 
 defence, and I suppose the negro is guilty. 
 Caruthers is a shrewd fellow and a good 
 lawyer. Mr. Caruthers was the prosecuting 
 attorney for the commonwealth in that cir- 
 cuit, but, if I am not sadly mistaken, he will 
 meet his match this time, especially if Dar- 
 naby gets warmed up to his work, and I 
 think that he is warming. 
 
 " We will have some nice seats for you 
 
152 HUGE BARNABT. 
 
 ladies if you will come to hear him," he 
 said to his lady acquaintances. " Mrs. 
 Brown is going." And — well that settled it ; 
 and it so happened at any rate that the 
 court-room was crowded when the case was 
 called. 
 
HUGH DARNABY. I53 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 HUGH MAKES HIS MAIDEN SPEECH. 
 
 The Commonwealth of Kentucky v. Silas 
 Green, charged with murder, read the court 
 from the docket. 
 
 " The Commonwealth is ready," answered 
 Mr, Caruthers. 
 
 Then the court inclined its head in the 
 direction of Hugh and asked : " Mr. Dar- 
 naby, is the defence ready ?" 
 . " Yes, your honor," answered Hugh. 
 
 " Then you will proceed, gentlemen." 
 
 The jury was called, objections and chal- 
 lenges made, etc., until a panel was chosen, 
 the indictment read, the case stated by the 
 attorney for the prosecution and also for 
 the defence by Hugh, and the examination of 
 the witnesses began. As the examination 
 proceeded the commonwealth's attorney re- 
 
154 HUGH DARNABY. 
 
 alized that he had harder work before him 
 than he had anticipated in the beginning. 
 
 Hugh's manner was cool and collected 
 after the first few questions, and it soon be- 
 came evident to both judge and jury that he 
 was endeavoring to extract the truth, and 
 that only from the witnesses, and that he 
 was doing it in the most direct and skillful 
 manner. 
 
 - He had already made out a strong case in 
 favor of the innocence of the prisoner when 
 his witnesses were allowed to leave the stand, 
 for he had brought out the simple truth 
 relating to what had occurred at the time the 
 homicide was committed, in as far as each 
 knew it. 
 
 The Commonwealth's attorney made a very 
 ingenious argument and a strong speech to 
 the jury. And then Hugh rose from his 
 seat inside the bar, walked around the table, 
 and stood before the jury. Some of them 
 he was acquainted with, others he did not 
 know personally. 
 
HUOS DARNABY. 155 
 
 After laying the liandkerchief, which he 
 held in one hand, on the table, he began : 
 
 " May it please the court, and gentlemen of 
 the jury ; " his voice trembled perceptibly, and 
 he was evidently very much embarrassed. 
 
 Major Brown, sitting within the bar with 
 his wife on one side of him, and a very 
 pretty little widow on the other, felt that now 
 was the crisis for Hugh. 
 
 Hugh took a hasty glance around the 
 room, saw his father close to the railing 
 which divides the bar from the rest of the 
 room, saw his brother Thomas farther back, 
 saw Major Brown, saw the face of the pretty 
 little widow full of expectation, lifted his 
 eyes and taking in the gallery saw Jim's black 
 face peering over the railing ; and then with 
 a look of determination settling down over 
 his countenance, he proceeded : 
 
 "The case before you, gentlemen, is one of 
 peculiar interest," all this had not used up 
 more than a few moment's time, and Major 
 Brown heaved a sigh of relief, for he knew 
 
156 HUGH DARNABT. 
 
 that the crisis had passed, and that Hugh 
 would go on to the end now. 
 
 " It is of more than ordinary interest," 
 continued Hugh, "for the reason that the 
 prisoner here charged with the crime of 
 murder belongs to a race, many of whom 
 were but lately your bondsmen. 
 
 " It is only very recently that the rights 
 of citizenship have been given to these 
 bondsmen, and among those rights was that 
 of trial by jury, and it is interesting to note 
 the fact that this is one among the first juries 
 which has been called on to decide a question 
 of the life or liberty of a colored citizen. 
 
 " I know that it is not an easy matter for 
 us to divest ourselves of prejudices in respect 
 to this emancipated race, which might inter- 
 fere to some extent at least with an unbiased 
 consideration of the facts appearing in such 
 a trial as this one. 
 
 " I see that there are some of you, who, 
 like myself, did cast in your lot with the 
 cause which is lost, others of you I see 
 
HUOH DARNABT. I57 
 
 before me who thought it right to cross 
 Swords with us over the issues so lately con- 
 tested, still others I see whose political 
 opinions I do not know ; but I do not fear 
 but that you will try this case just as you 
 would if the prisoner was of your own color, 
 nay, if possible, with even a greater degree 
 of fairness, and that we shall be enabled to 
 join hands in an honest endeavor to do 
 justice to this unfortunate individual." 
 
 And Captain Daruaby proceeded to review 
 the evidence as it had been adduced on the 
 witness stand, explaining to the jury the 
 particular reference of the law to certain 
 parts thereof, gaining confidence as he pro- 
 ceeded, often rising to points of actual elo- 
 quence, warming to his work, as Major Brown 
 remarked, astonishing the older lawyers by 
 the quickness of his grasp on salient points 
 in his adversary's arguments ; pleasing the 
 court by the appreciation with which he 
 fixed and grasped the strong points of the 
 law applicable to the case and which seemed 
 
158 HUGH DARNAB7. 
 
 to be in bis favor, carrying the sympathy of 
 the audience outside the bar from the first, 
 and, finally, closing with every man on the 
 jury convinced of the innocence of the pris- 
 oner for whom he was pleading. He had 
 been able to prove to them that it was a case 
 of self-defence beyond a doubt. And when 
 he took his seat after speaking an hour or 
 more, not a man in that house had a doubt 
 as to what the verdict would be. 
 
 The Commonwealth's attorney closed the 
 argument for the State, and the jury pro- 
 ceeded to the "jury-room," where they re- 
 mained about fifteen or twenty minutes, when 
 they brought in a verdict of not guilty. 
 
 Then a great murmur ran through the 
 audience assembled in the court-room, and 
 some began to applaud, but this was stopped 
 by the sheriff very quickly. 
 
 Several of the lawyers who were acquainted 
 with Hugh came forward and congratulated 
 him on his effort, and among the first were 
 the Commonwealth's attorney and Hugh's 
 
HUGH DARNABY. 159 
 
 old friend, Major Brown. The latter grasped 
 Hugh's hand and said, " Well done, m j boy ; 
 I knew it was in you," and turning around, 
 the Major introduced him to the pretty little 
 widow. This little widow was a Mrs. Strong, 
 who had accompanied Mrs. Brown to the 
 scene of the trial. 
 
 Hugh had not met Mrs, Strong before ; 
 she was a recent arrival in the town. She 
 overwhelmed him with compliments and best 
 wishes for his continued success, told him 
 where she was stopping, and asked him to 
 call. She was a smart little woman, and was 
 determined to provide, as far as possible, 
 for any and all future contingencies. 
 
 Hugh Darnaby said afterwards, relative to 
 his feelings when he got up to make his ar- 
 gument, that he was all right and at his ease 
 after he had glanced up into the gallery and 
 caught a glimpse of Jim's face, for it in- 
 stantly occurred to him, suppose it was Jim 
 in the . place of the prisoner, and I was as 
 well convinced of his innocence as I am of 
 
160 HUGH DARNABY. 
 
 this man's, what would I do? And it 
 enabled me to so bring the whole matter 
 home, as it were, that I forgot everything 
 except that I was fighting for an inno- 
 cent man's life, and that in this I had had a 
 sacred trust given to me, and it gave me 
 courage to win. 
 
 It was just about this time, when Hugh 
 was gaining in popularity, when business 
 began to come to him quite rapidly, when he 
 had begun to make money more or less rap- 
 idly, that his thoughts reverted to Annie 
 Pendleton with some degree of hope in 
 them. 
 
 It was when his name was in every mouth, 
 when he was courted and invited to all the 
 social gatherings as the hero of the hour, and, 
 above all, when he began to see his way 
 to a competency, that news came to the 
 effect that Annie Pendleton was married. 
 
 In the meantime he had called more than 
 once on Mrs. Strong, and she had used her 
 best endeavors to make those calls pleasant 
 to him, and he was much pleased with her. 
 
HUGH DARNABF. 161 
 
 But Annie was married. Ah, the knowl- 
 edge of it coming without any warning struck 
 him like the blight in summer. It spoiled 
 his triumph. What was success to him if 
 he had lost even the possibility of gaining 
 t hat which was really the great incentive to 
 his exertions? 
 
 He had hoped, and waited, and worked 
 for the time to come when he could have 
 something to offer her. He had tried to be 
 patient, and now when the time had actually 
 come when he could speak his love to her 
 in honor it was too late. Oh, the madness 
 of the thought. Oh, the irony of fate, the 
 miserable futility of striving and rebelling 
 against that which had ah-eady come to pass. 
 
 He saw all this later on, but not now. It 
 was his first great disappointment, his first 
 great sorrow. We never know how much 
 pathos there often is in old familiar quota- 
 tions until the iron enters our own souls. 
 
 Words, words — familiarity with the words 
 so often repeated ; words which have become 
 
162 HUGH DARNABT. 
 
 common property, the mere body from which 
 the soul has been separated, " It might have 
 been " — these words are a commentary on 
 the lives of most of us. Might it not have 
 been ? Ask the great Ruler of the universe. 
 Hugh was at a small social gathering at 
 the house of Major Brown one evening, and 
 some one mentioned the fact of Annie 
 Pendleton's marriage, casually, among other 
 items of news. He never could recollect 
 who it was that told him. He heard it, 
 however, and a real pain shot through his 
 heart as if some one had suddenly thrvist a 
 knife into his breast. And very soon after 
 he excused himself and went to the little 
 back room of his ofl&ce. Once there, shut 
 in from the view of the world, he threw him- 
 self upon his cot and gave way to the bitter- 
 ness of grief. He tried to reproach her in 
 his heart for what she had done, but when 
 he became calmer he saw that he was unjust. 
 He saw that, if for no other reason, she was 
 justified because of his long silence ; that it 
 
HUGH DARN ABT. 163 
 
 was quite natural that she should have 
 thought that she had passed out of his life, 
 and, therefore, she was quite right in letting 
 him pass out of hers. Besides, he had really 
 no claim on her fidelity or constancy. 'Tis 
 true that she had given him permission to 
 ask her love when he returned from the war, 
 but the war had been over for some time 
 now, and he had not claimed the right which 
 she had given him. 
 
 How was she to know his reasons for not 
 having done so ? Even if she had wished 
 to remember, and he could not deny it, she 
 was justified by his seeming indifference. 
 Perhaps if he had spoken or written, things 
 would have been different, but he must now 
 drive such thoughts from him. She was 
 now another man's wife. He felt very 
 desolate though, for this love for Annie 
 Pendleton had sunk deep into his heart. It 
 had grown with him, as he had said. It 
 seemed almost a part of his life. Will the 
 worldly wise and cynical sneer at this deep 
 
164 HUGE DARNABY. 
 
 love, or deny that there is any such nowa- 
 days? 
 
 If such be the case I only ask you to lay 
 aside, if possible, the influence of such be- 
 lief, and to take the trouble to look into the 
 private, the domestic, the inner life of the 
 individuals with whom you come in daily 
 contact. Peradventure, the love which you 
 will find there, the almost absolute forgetf ul- 
 ness of self in many instances, the instances 
 of heroic unseen and unheard-of acts of 
 self-sacrifice, of chivalric manly and womanly 
 devotion, seeking not to be paraded before 
 the world, will make you blush at the con- 
 sciousness of the hollowness, the rottenness 
 of your own lives, and perhaps cause you to 
 regret the callousness of your own hearts. 
 
 But let that pass. 
 
 Oh, the inscrutable ways of Providence, 
 which draws the lives of two individuals 
 apart. It seems to be a sad dispensation 
 which briefly admits the brightness of another 
 life, the influence of a presence into our own 
 and then removes it even to the end. 
 
HUOH DARNABT. 165 
 
 There must be some definite purpose in 
 thus filling up a portion of a life. Listen — 
 the actual presence is gone, but the influence 
 of that presence is felt till death, perchance 
 through eternity. And this would seem to 
 be the reason for that temporary presence, 
 at least it is the only compensation for its 
 removal, the only excuse for its intrusion 
 into our life. Oh, how blind we are, how 
 dim and unsatisfactory are our gropings into 
 the future. 
 
 And thus it was with these two lives, and 
 it is a very common thing in this everyday 
 life of ours, they drifted apart. 
 
 Annie married a very estimable man, a 
 Doctor Carson. He was very good to her, 
 and she loved him with all her heart, let us 
 hope. 
 
 Still, let me ask you, you loving, faithful, 
 tender-hearted women, do you ever entirely 
 forget the man whom you have loved or 
 cared for, years ago perhaps — or who has 
 loved you ? Let me ask you, is there not al- 
 
166 HUOH DARNABT. 
 
 ways a spot more or less tender in your 
 hearts for such, no matter how great and 
 absorbing a love may have come to you later ? 
 
 Annie Pendleton, or we should say Annie 
 Carson, was a simple, true-hearted woman — 
 many such can be found in our land, thank 
 God — and she did not forget the man who 
 had offered her his love, when it was all he 
 had to offer. She was a true, loving wife 
 nevertheless, and she did not allow the re- 
 membrance of him to interfere with the love 
 and duty she had given to her husband. 
 
 It seems to be true that we never forget 
 anything. The influence of the least thing 
 that happens to us as we journey on towards 
 that other life beyond goes with us, though 
 it is safest often not to allow our thoughts 
 to linger on some incidents. 
 
 Old Mr. Pendleton died about a year after 
 Annie's marriage, and soon after Dr. Carson 
 with his family, moved to Louisville. 
 
 During the second year of their marriage 
 a little girl was born to them — a sweet, blue- 
 eyed, dimpled little darling. 
 
HUGH DARNABY. 167 
 
 After this the Doctor's pecuniary condition 
 began to improve. 
 
 They fitted up a nice little cottage on 
 Fourth street, began housekeeping, and Fate 
 seemed to smile on the household. 
 
 Dr. Carson went among his patients, 
 studied their ailments, ministered to their 
 comfort and relieved their pain as only one 
 who is thoroughly in earnest in his life work 
 is enabled to do. 
 
 Many a poor sufferer, too poor in this 
 world's goods to pay for a physician's ser- 
 vices, was brought back to health and 
 strength by his ministrations. 
 
 The result of all this could be clearly fore- 
 seen ; there were many to rise up and call 
 him blessed. The Doctor became very pop- 
 ular, and especially so among the poor and 
 needy. His practice grew until the proceeds 
 therefrom, notwithstanding his many acts of 
 charity, began to make him well-to-do. 
 
 And Annie, his wife, both from the influ- 
 ence of his example and from the natural 
 
168 HUGH DARNABT. 
 
 kindliness of her character, and because she 
 took an interest in his work, felt that her 
 views of life were broadening and that her 
 life was growing into something of a knowl- 
 edge of that love which passeth man's under- 
 standing; and she, too, worked among the 
 poor and needy. 
 
 While these things were coming to pass 
 their little girl was growing, and the days 
 and the months and the years were passing 
 swiftly away, and now the little girl was four 
 years old, and was becoming dearer still to 
 .the hearts of her parents. 
 
 Alas, such sunshine and happiness as was 
 theirs seems to be destined not to last in 
 this world. Is it that our God knows that 
 we should probably forget Him amidst our 
 happiness, that he takes it away from us? 
 Is it because He wishes us to be ready and 
 willing to go when He calls, and knows that 
 we shall be unwilling to leave at all? Why,, 
 then, taste of Heaven here on earth? Per- 
 haps, though. He means it as a slight forecast 
 of things to come. 
 
HUGH BARN ABY. 169 
 
 I do verily believe that it is intended to be 
 enjoyed by us while it lasts, in all its fullness 
 and without question. 
 
 I am not one of those who is afraid to be 
 happy. I am fain to believe that it is not 
 the calm, the fatal calm that comes before 
 the storm, but the changeableness of all things 
 in this life makes us look for the worst, and 
 unavoidably, unreasonably tremble even 
 whilst we enjoy the good. 
 
 A few short weeks more of almost perfect 
 peace and contentment and then the Doctor 
 was stricken down. The constant work and 
 anxiety had undermined his constitution — 
 not the strongest at the best. His will was 
 stronger than his physical development. 
 
 He had often been exposed to virulent 
 disease, and to physically corrupting in- 
 fluences in his visits to the sick and the 
 miserable. 
 
 Hitherto he had been able to withstand the 
 insinuations of disease in his own direction, 
 but at last he was obliged to succumb. 
 
170 HUGH DARN A B T. 
 
 The dread disease, small-pox, had penetrat- 
 ed even beyond the precautions taken to ward 
 it off. 
 
 His sickness was of short duration. He 
 lingered only a few days and then he crossed 
 the river to rest beneath " the beautiful 
 shades." His devoted and lovely wife was 
 with him to the last ; she could not be kept 
 away from him. She did not take the 
 disease. No ; another chapter in her life 
 must be lived. 
 
 What pen can picture the pathos, the love, 
 the devotion, the sadness, the sorrow, the 
 wild waves of grief that rise to the heart, the 
 resignation, the fortitude, or the beauty of 
 character which appears at such times and 
 makes up, in great measure, the grandeur of 
 human nature. 
 
 What is man that Thou considerest him, 
 or the son of man that Thou visitest him ? 
 Ah, human nature has Godlike attributes, 
 and God-given powers and depths of feeling, 
 and we can only point to these when this 
 
HUGH DARNABY. 171 
 
 question recurs to us and wonder at the 
 same time at the meanness and brutality 
 with which it abounds. 
 
 My pen is utterly useless in attempting to 
 trace out the lines of this death scene. 
 
 Annie Carson was very desolate after 
 this, and her child, the child of this man 
 who was now dead, became strangely dear 
 to her. 
 
 The tendrils of her heart's love grew 
 around the little girl as the moss grows to 
 the rock. 
 
172 HUGH DARNABY. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 HUGH DARNABY AND ANNIE CARSON MEET APTEB 
 YEARS OF SEPARATION. 
 
 It was some time before Hugh Darnaby 
 could become reconciled to the idea of 
 Annie's marriage, but by constant effort 
 and assiduous attention to business, he 
 managed to learn to accept the inevitable. 
 He schooled himself to regard her in his 
 thoughts as belonging to another, and when 
 reports reached him of her happiness, and of 
 the noble and generous character of her 
 husband, he really began to admire Dr. Car- 
 son and to love him for her sake, though 
 they had never met. He most certainly 
 rejoiced in her happiness, and after Annie's 
 baby was born he secretly loved the child 
 from the first. 
 
 But their real separation now seemed to 
 be complete, and he being frequently thrown 
 
HUGH DARNABY. 173 
 
 into the company of the pretty and fasci- 
 nating Mrs. Strong, the little widow who had 
 congratulated him on the success of his first 
 speech, and she being very lovely, and he 
 believing that he loved her as much as he 
 was capable of loving any one now, asked 
 her to be his wife. 
 
 At the same time she had another very de- 
 voted admirer in the person of the son of one of 
 the wealthiest farmers in the county, so she 
 delayed giving Hugh her answer for a time 
 until after her farmer beau had formally 
 proposed to her, when she very kindly, but 
 firmly, declined Hugh's offer. And within a 
 month after she was married to his rival. 
 
 Hugh, indeed, tried to feel very much hurt 
 and disappointed, but he had so recently 
 suffered a real disappointment that one 
 night shortly after the wedding, while lying 
 awake in the silence of his room, he came 
 to the conclusion that he was not near so 
 sorry as he should have been that things 
 bad turned out as they had. 
 
174 HUGH DARNABY. 
 
 He compared his present disappointment 
 with that which he had experienced when 
 Annie Carson had been married, and it 
 struck him that he was not much in love 
 with Mrs. Strong after alL So he conchided 
 that he would not play high tragedy because 
 of hey refusal, but would act like the sensible 
 lawyer that he was. 
 
 And time went on, carrying him and mil- 
 lions of others on its tide, and many months 
 had been added to the list of those numbered 
 with the past. The year 1872 had come 
 and was already several months old. A 
 little over a year had elapsed since the 
 death of Doctor Carson. 
 
 Hugh was in church one Sunday morning — 
 he was commonwealth's attorney now, lately 
 elected. His mind had been occupied with 
 various thoughts as he walked to the church, 
 and even now when he was inside and the 
 services had begun he was somewhat pre- 
 occupied, so that he had not noticed the 
 people as they came in. 
 
HUGH DARNABY. I75 
 
 Of course, therefore, be bad failed to 
 notice tbe entrance of a lady dressed in 
 mourning witb a crape veil drawn over ber 
 face. Tbis lady was leading by tbe band a 
 singularly beautiful little girl about four or 
 five years old apparently, and tbey took a 
 seat in the first unoccupied pew, which hap- 
 pened to be just across tbe aisle and a few 
 seats back from tbe one which Hugh occu- 
 pied. 
 
 Very handsome be was as be stood with 
 body erect, fully six feet tall, and with the 
 locks of bis hair falling slightly disarranged 
 over one side of the forehead. He wore a 
 full beard parted on tbe chin, and now his 
 bead was somewhat inclined forward. His 
 body was well proportioned, he was thirty- 
 five years old at tbis time, and in the full 
 possession of all his faculties. His finely- 
 balanced mind seemed to shine forth in tbe 
 thoughtful expression of his face which bad 
 become habitual to it in the last year or so. 
 
 When the service began tbe strange lady 
 
176 HUGH DARNABF. 
 
 in black with the beautiful little girl 
 removed her veil from her face, thereby dis- 
 playing a countenance of wonderful beauty. 
 The soft, brown hair in lovely waves was 
 brushed plainly back under the bonnet she 
 wore, and the face beneath it was almost 
 perfect in its madonna-like beauty. 
 
 People, as they looked, no longer won- 
 dered at the exquisite beauty of the little 
 girl; but they were much puzzled to 
 account for the blue eyes and the golden 
 hair which the child possessed. 
 
 Hugh, as I have said, was altogether 
 unconscious of the beautiful picture which 
 the mother and child presented. 
 
 But she was not unconscious of his pres- 
 ence, for she had glanced up at him as he 
 stood there, tall and handsome, and she had 
 remarked the kind and noble expression of 
 his countenance. 
 
 She knew that Hugh Darnaby stood once 
 more before her, although it had been nearly 
 ten years since she had seen him. 
 
HUOH DA RNAB T. I77 
 
 But she did not know that the old love for 
 her, though repressed, still lived in his heart, 
 though the quick, warm rush of blood to her 
 own heart warned her that he was not for- 
 gotten entirely by her, and in that glance it 
 was revealed to her that the remembrance 
 of their relations of long ago was not dead. 
 
 Then, almost instantly, the remembrance 
 of that other man who had been so kind to 
 her, came to her and sent the blood back 
 from her heart and started it rushing wildly 
 through its channels. 
 
 Afterwards, as the service proceeded, she 
 seemed to forget self and to enter heart and 
 soul into the worship, the praise and the 
 thanksgiving to Almighty God. 
 
 At last an old familiar hymn was an- 
 nounced, and a sweet old tune was started, 
 and as the music rolled upward and around, 
 filling the old church with its melody and its 
 pathos, Hugh Darnaby became conscious of 
 the delicious, rythmical sound of a voice 
 which rose above every other in the build- 
 
178 S. UOH DARNAB T. 
 
 ing, and filling his soul with a strange, sweet 
 remembrance. It seemed familiar to him, 
 yet so strangely mellowed and sad. 
 
 "Was it — could it be hers ? He glanced 
 around, and as he did so, his eye rested on 
 the face of the sweet singer. 
 
 The same brown eyes which he remem- 
 bered and loved so well, although he had 
 striven so hard not to love them — he did not 
 wish to forget them — were there, only so sad 
 now, yet so loving and trusting nevertheless. 
 For the time she seemed to be in a realm far 
 beyond this vale of tears ; verily she seemed 
 to be singing in the heavenly choir and in 
 the actual presence of the Deity. 
 
 Yes, there was no mistake. It was she — 
 Annie Carson — he remembered ; but Doctor 
 Carson's wife no longer. 
 
 At this thought he could not help that a 
 feeling of joy entered his soul, but it quickly 
 gave way to one of pity and sympathy, for 
 he remembered, also, that she was Doctor 
 Carson's widow if not his wife, and that this 
 
HUGH DA RNAB T. 179 
 
 little vision of loveliness at her side was 
 Doctor Carson's child. 
 
 From the moment of the recognition of 
 this thought, other thoughts came in quick 
 succession, and he began to soliloquize in 
 this manner. She must have loved him. 
 Yes, she did, or she would never have become 
 Annie Carson, and this seemed to annoy 
 him somewhat, but then he began to respect 
 and reverence that love as he had not done 
 before. 
 
 He turned away with a sigh, for in that 
 moment he knew, beyond a doubt, that his 
 love was not dead ; that his love for Annie 
 Carson was stronger, purer, and more unsel- 
 fish than his love for Annie Pendleton had 
 ever been. 
 
 He could not concentrate his thoughts on 
 the sermon. He never could afterwards 
 recollect what the text was. 
 
 He thought it must have been " love " for 
 his whole being was aglow with that one 
 word. 
 
180 HUOH DARNABT. 
 
 He sat through the balance of the service 
 wrapped in delicious reverie, though they 
 were somewhat troubled also at times. 
 
 He had not been out " home," as he still 
 called the old place, for some time, and he 
 did not know that Mrs. Carson and her little 
 daughter were visiting friends in the old 
 neighborhood, and although the width of a 
 church pew only seperated them, as far as 
 actual distance was concerned, they two 
 seemed as far apart as ever. 
 
 What should he do ? He loved her ; he 
 knew it from the time he set eyes on her ; 
 yes, and far more than ever before. 
 
 But she — how did she regard him ? Proba- 
 bly enough she looked upon him as merely 
 an old acquaintance whom chance might 
 cause her to meet again in this neighborhood. 
 
 Well, how could he meet her as only a 
 casual acquaintance, and yet what if she 
 were still wedded to a memory ? 
 
 The services were now over and he must 
 meet her at the door. It was the custom of 
 
HUGH DARNABY. 181 
 
 the people to exchange greetings at the 
 church door, and almost every one in the 
 congregation knew that Mrs. Carson and 
 Hugh had lived close neighbors before the 
 war, therefore it would be impossible to feign 
 not to recognize her. It would provoke 
 remark and perhaps require explanation if he 
 even seemed to avoid her. 
 
 As it happened she was in the vestibule 
 of the church before he came out ; but the 
 driver of the vehicle belonging to the friend 
 with whom she came was slow in his move- 
 ments, and thej were, of course, on that 
 account, somewhat delayed in leaving the 
 church. Most of the people had left, though 
 a few still lingered. Two or three of the 
 ladies were talking to and making friends 
 with little Maud Carson. 
 
 Slowly and with an expression of counte- 
 nance sadly belying the cheerful tone of voice 
 with which he greeted the ladies, Hugh came 
 forward with outstretched hand, and said, 
 "How do you do, Mrs. Carson? This is 
 
182 HUGH DARNABY. 
 
 certainly an agreeable surprise you have 
 given us to-day. I for one had no idea that 
 you were in the neighborhood." 
 
 "And this is the little lady I heard singing 
 in church," continued he, turning to Maud, 
 " and what a lovely little lady she is. Wont 
 you speak to me ? I used to know your 
 mother when she was no larger than you 
 are." 
 
 The little girl looked straight into his eyes, 
 and then with instinctive judgment, so often 
 present with children in making new acquain- 
 tances, she went over to him and put her fat, 
 chubby little hand in his, and Hugh had 
 made a new and powerful friend. 
 
 Presently, after some further conversation, 
 Hugh said, " I see your carriage is ready ; 
 shall I see you safely ensconced in it ? " 
 
 Mrs. Carson answered, " If you will be so 
 kind, Mr. Darnaby." 
 
 And as they walked toward the carriage 
 she spoke again : " Yes, this is my little girl, 
 and she and I have come for a quiet little 
 visit to the country." 
 
EUOH DARNABT. 183 
 
 She noticed that he turned very pale when 
 he first addressed her, which surprised her 
 somewhat, and she felt that it behooved her 
 to be guarded in her manner toward him 
 lest he should think her already weaned 
 from the memory of her dead husband, and 
 lest he might possibly mistake some action 
 or speech of hers for encouragement to seek 
 to renew their old relations. 
 
 She was a widow now, she said to herself, 
 and rather mature in years, and she must 
 maintain the dignity of her position ; besides, 
 she had loved her husband while he was 
 living, and she loved his memory now that 
 he was dead. She wished Hugh to see this, 
 and he did see it, and he determined to 
 respect her evident wish in this, in as far as 
 possible. Therefore, without any wish to in- 
 trude upon her retirement, but more from 
 politeness, he asked, as they took their seats 
 in "the rockaway," how long she would be 
 in the neighborhood. But before Mrs. Car- 
 son could reply her friend said : " We hope 
 
184 HUGE BARNABT. 
 
 to keep her some weeks at least, Mr. Darn- 
 aby, and we should be pleased to have you 
 call before Mrs. Carson leaves." And con- 
 tinuing, she said, " Ah, Mr. Darnaby, you 
 have become so wedded to your profession 
 and to your town life that you have sadly 
 neglected your country friends lately. You 
 know, Mrs. Carson, he has become a regular 
 old bachelor recluse ? " 
 
 Mrs. Carson hastened to say that although 
 she was not entering into society at all, of 
 course she would be glad to see any of her 
 old friends, and she assured him that it was 
 not at all certain how long her visit would 
 last, and then they drove off. 
 
 Hugh felt rather disappointed that her in- 
 vitation had not been more cordial. He 
 went to his room feeling that he had passed 
 through a very trying ordeal. He was not 
 living in the back room of Major Brown's 
 office now, though they were still the best of 
 friends. He was comfortably ensconced in 
 a private boarding-house, and had an office 
 
HUGH DARNABT. 185 
 
 of his own, in addition to a snug little sum 
 of money in bank, or otherwise invested. 
 
 Now of all things in the world Hugh 
 Darnaby would have liked to have accepted 
 the invitation to call on Mrs. Carson, but 
 after thinking it all over he knew that, if 
 chance so ordered it that he should see her 
 alone, he could not keep the conversation on 
 ordinary subjects, but would be certain to 
 lose his self-control and lay his heart once 
 more at her feet. And this he understood he 
 must not do, at least not yet, or he would de- 
 stroy any chance of obtaining the fruition of 
 his hopes. He hoped that he might be able 
 to maintain a friendship with Annie Carson, 
 which might in time ripen into something of 
 a warmer nature. He saw that it was quite 
 out of the question to broach the subject 
 next his heart to her, and he determined, 
 finally, that if he called on her it should be 
 formally, and that he would ask at the same 
 time to see the lady of the house. For the 
 present he must love at a distance, and it 
 must be kept to himself. 
 
186 HUGH DARNABT. 
 
 It was the next Saturday afternoon, after 
 the meeting at the church, that Hugh decided 
 to go " out home " and spend the balance of 
 the day and Sunday there, intending, should 
 the gods favor, to call at Mr. Crawford's, 
 where Mrs. Carson was visiting. The Craw- 
 fords' place was not far distant, lying be- 
 tween the Darnabys and the old Pendleton 
 place. 
 
 About a quarter of a mile from the Darn- 
 aby house ran a little stream of water, and 
 the trees grew thickly along, its banks. In 
 places large boulders lay in the shallow 
 water, and mosses cluDg to the rocks in the 
 shady places. Very cool and pleasant were 
 certain little nooks upon its shores, and 
 sparklicg miniature cascades threw their 
 spray into the sunlight and fell in varied- 
 hued specks into the water below. 
 
 This little stream crossed the road which 
 lead to town, and then ran past the Darnaby , 
 farm, becoming deeper and broader as it 
 went. 
 
HUGH DARNABY. 187 
 
 The fields and pastures through which it 
 wended its way were thickly dotted with 
 many varieties of wild flowers. 
 
 Above the bridge and beyond, it could be 
 crossed by stepping from stone to stone; 
 but below there was only one fording place 
 within a distance of a mile or more from the 
 bridge. 
 
 This particular Saturday afternoon was 
 very pleasant out of doors, very pleasant in 
 the sun, but delightful in the shade of the 
 trees. 
 
 Annie Carson had always been fond of 
 the country, and especially fond of its out- 
 door attractions ; so this afternoon all the 
 members of the household which she was 
 visiting being occupied, and she being alone 
 with her thoughts and her little girl, a strong 
 desire to go out and enjoy the day took 
 possession of her. She wished to visit some 
 of the old familiar scenes, familiar to her in 
 her childhood, familiar to her in girlhood, 
 and in early womanhood. 
 
188 HUGH DARNABY. 
 
 She remembered, very distinctly, the little 
 creek of which we have just been speaking. 
 The recollection of more than one picnicing 
 frolic on its banks came to her, as she and 
 her little daughter left the house and turned 
 their footsteps in the direction of the little 
 stream. It was about two o'clock in the 
 afternoon when they left the house, and a 
 few minutes' walk brought them to it, and 
 then they rested beneath the branches of a 
 noble old elm which threw its shadow within 
 a large circumference over the field and 
 stream. 
 
 Two boulders, just opposite them in the 
 water confined the stream, for a few feet, to 
 a very narrow channel, and as it came out 
 from between them it fell for a couple of feet 
 into a small basin, which it had scooped out 
 by ages of industry. 
 
 The child amused herself for a time by 
 throwing pebbles into the stream, and by 
 watching the ripples they made in the water, 
 as they formed continuously larger and 
 
HUGE DARNABY. 189 
 
 larger circumferences, until they disappeared 
 altogether. But tiring of this after awhile 
 she launched little chips and pieces of bark 
 on the stream, and it pleased her to see 
 them borne off by the current. Some started 
 down together and were soon carried out of 
 sight, others were almost immediately sepa- 
 rated by the force of the current and driven 
 wide apart. 
 
 And the mother, half reclining on the 
 grass, was dreaming. In a rather inattentive 
 way she watched the child at play, and saw 
 the launching of the little boats. She noticed, 
 nevertheless, that some of them went all the 
 way down the stream together, side by side, 
 while others drifted apart; others still she 
 saw starting together, then drifting apart, 
 and so sometimes one seemed to be ingulfed 
 in the waters, and then soon another little 
 boat came alongside and together these two 
 drifted gaily down the stream out of sight. 
 
 And she thought that this might represent 
 life, and how like her own and that of her 
 
190 HUOH DARNABT. 
 
 husband were the two little boats starting 
 out together, one sinking and the other being 
 borne along on the current, and then she 
 thought of the other little boat drifting along 
 side of the one which was left. But here 
 the similarity ceased, and she did not pursue 
 the thought further, but rose suddenly and 
 called her little girl, saying, "We will go 
 further down the stream where the flowers 
 grow." 
 
 They had been out a couple of hours now 
 and still the day was far from done. They 
 had crossed the stream above and were now 
 on the side of it on which the Darnaby farm 
 lay. 
 
 They found the flowers growing in pro- 
 fusion. Ah, was she entering the sunny 
 fields of life where the flowers of peace and 
 happiness grew thickly around her path 
 waiting to be plucked and placed in her 
 bosom? Hugh Darnaby had been at the 
 house since the early part of the afternoon, for 
 it was only about a half hour's drive from the 
 
nUQR DABNABT. 191 
 
 town. His horse had been stabled, he had 
 talked to the grown folks, and had played 
 with Tom's two boys — one about five years 
 old, the other a baby ; and now he had gone 
 to walk over the place. 
 
 "Was the little stream now drifting the two 
 liliputian boats together? It was just as 
 Mrs. Carson and little Maud had concluded 
 to try and cross the stream in order to take 
 a nearer way back to Mr. Crawford's, that 
 Hugh came to the edge of a small piece of 
 woods which skirted the stream. 
 
 Mrs. Carson was evidently looking for a 
 place convenient for crossing, and had been 
 disappointed at not finding one. 
 
 Hugh saw that in her search she was 
 Bearing the woods, so he sat down on a 
 stump of a tree and waited her approach. 
 
 Presently when she and Maud were just 
 across the fence from where he sat partially 
 hidden from their view by the thick growth 
 of blackberry bushes in the fence corner, 
 Mrs. Carson was very much startled by 
 
192 HUGH DARNAB7. 
 
 hearing some one say : " Mrs. Carson, I am 
 afraid that you will not find a crossing place 
 nearer than the bridge." 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Darnaby," she exclaimed, " you 
 really did startle me, for I thought that 
 Maud and I were in sole possession of this 
 immediate neighborhood. We have been 
 wandering around for some time enjoying 
 this beautiful afternoon, and I thought that 
 if we could cross the stream here it would 
 shorten the distance to Mr. Crawford's con- 
 siderably. 
 
 "And," she hastily added, "it is really 
 time that we were returning." 
 
 " I am sorry," said Hugh, " but I am 
 afraid that you will have to return by way of 
 the bridge, and my little lady Maud looks 
 quite too tired to walk all the way, so I 
 expect that I will have to carry her." And 
 turning to the child, he continued, "Don't 
 you want me to carry you a part of the way 
 at least, Maud ? " 
 
 " Yes, please," said the little girl, " for I 
 am awful tired." 
 
HUGH DARNABT. 193 
 
 Mrs. Carson had begun to say that she 
 would not have him take so much trouble, 
 but, seeing that her little girl was really 
 quite tired out, she allowed herself to be 
 voted down. 
 
 And so it happened that she and Hugh 
 were destined once again to walk side by 
 side over the old familiar ground. 
 
 Many objects of mutual interest were seen 
 as they moved along which served as topics 
 of conversation, and they even ventured to 
 speak of the changes which had taken place 
 in the neighborhood during the years of her 
 absence. 
 
 The walk together extended to the Craw- 
 ford house, and proved very pleasant to 
 them both ; for, although Hugh's heart was 
 beating against his ribs at a tremendous rate, 
 he outwardly retained his composure, and 
 she — well, she forgot to be unhappy for the 
 time being. 
 
 When they parted at Mr. Crawford's front 
 door Hugh kissed the little girl he had been 
 
194 HUGH DAENABT. 
 
 holding in his arms — the child ' of the man 
 who had possessed all of that which he 
 had hoped would be his. One thing she 
 had noticed and appreciated, and that was 
 the tact and delicacy with which he had 
 kept the conversation from drifting into any- 
 thing of a nature which might in anywise 
 have been painfully embarrassing by becom- 
 ing too personal. 
 
 After he had gone little Maud said to her : 
 " Mamma, I like Mr. Darnaby, don't you ? " 
 
 And remembering the kiss he had left on 
 the cheek of her fair child — of her dead hus- 
 band's child — she answered, " Yes, baby, he 
 is a good man, and I like him." 
 
HUOH DARNABT. 195 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 MRS. CARSON DECIDES TO RENT A COTTAGE FOR THE 
 SUMMER IN THE TOWN NEAR HER OLD HOME. 
 
 Hugh called once after this during Mrs. 
 Carson's stay at the Crawford's, and soon 
 she and her little girl left for their home in 
 Louisville. 
 
 The Doctor had left his wife and child in 
 very comfortable circumstances, and Mrs. 
 Carson was still keeping house, while the 
 Doctor's only sister lived with her. 
 
 She made herself busy in works of charity, 
 and, in as far as possible, visited and gave 
 comfort to many of Doctor Carson's old pa- 
 tients, especially to those who were in the 
 humbler walks of life. Many a poor and 
 needy family in Louisville received material 
 aid from her means, and also from her actual 
 personal counsel and assistance in times of 
 distress. 
 
196 HUGH DARNABY. 
 
 Once during the ensuing winter Hugh was 
 called to Louisville on business, and while 
 there he called on Mrs. Carson. She was 
 very kind and friendly to him, but he could 
 find no encouragement to speak his heart 
 to her. 
 
 He was now trying to become reconciled 
 to the belief that his love for her would 
 never reach beyond the bounds of silent ado- 
 ration, but his heart would still rebel. 
 
 He loved her now with all the strength of 
 his matured manhood, and he felt that he 
 could not much longer keep silence. 
 
 He, at the same time, respected that love 
 which made her cling to the memory of her 
 dead husband, but he failed signally to 
 reason the matter out in such measure as to 
 make that love preclude and exclude every 
 other for all time. 
 
 He did not, however, speak his thoughts 
 on this subject on this visit, though the least 
 encouragement would have tempted him to 
 do so. 
 
HUGH DARNABY. 197 
 
 The winter passed and the summer came 
 again. These two persons had not seen any- 
 thing of each other for months, but each had 
 thought of the other. 
 
 We know something of Captain Darnaby's 
 thoughts and feelings concerning her, but 
 what were her thoughts regarding him ? 
 
 Ever since that walk to Mr. Crawford's the 
 summer before it had been known to her 
 that Hugh loved her ; that he had never 
 ceased to love her ; that he was ready to 
 offer her a noble, unselfish, manly love 
 whenever he saw that it might not be dis- 
 tasteful to her. And she knew and acknowl- 
 edged that she had loved him once in spite 
 of all hindrances to the consummation of 
 that love. But now, how was it ? Lately 
 she again began to feel that she loved him ; 
 loved him with a new, a holier, a more 
 absorbing love than that with which she 
 had loved him in the early days ; but she 
 would not yet acknowledge it to herself. 
 Ah, was this treason to that other love ? 
 
198 HUGH DARNABY. 
 
 She could not tell, she feared that it was, 
 and she thought that if she once acknowl- 
 edged this new love, even to herself, she 
 must despise herself. 
 
 But it had come to her, she knew not how 
 or why. She had not sought it, it had not 
 sought her. It had just come to her, God 
 knows how, and that was all she could say. 
 
 We mortals can no more explain the 
 beginning of this kind of love than we can 
 unravel any other of the mysteries of eternity. 
 
 If he were to ask her to marry him now, 
 she would probably refuse to do so, and 
 deny her own heart, not because she did 
 not love Hugh Darnaby, but because, as she 
 put it to herself, she could not and would 
 not forget her dead husband's love, and she 
 could not reconcile the two. Was ever a 
 poor woman so perplexed ? 
 
 No mortal being beside herself knew of 
 these thoughts. She only admitted as much 
 as we have intimated to herself, because she 
 could not help it, and because she felt that 
 
HUGH DARNABY. 199 
 
 she must think out her course for the future, 
 for she knew that unless Hugh's character 
 had changed very materially since both of 
 them had grown older, he would not keep 
 silent much longer, and she felt that when 
 he spoke she must make a decision which 
 would probably be final. 
 
 It was during the early part of the summer 
 of which we have spoken as having already 
 •come that her sister-in-law married, thereby 
 breaking up the housekeeping arrangements 
 which had existed for some time, and Mrs. 
 Carson was again left alone with the excep- 
 tion of her little daughter. She did not 
 care to remain comparatively unprotected 
 in a large city, so, as she thought, some 
 change must be made. 
 
 She was still young, comparatively rich, 
 and exceedingly pretty, and consequently 
 she was not without suitors for her hand. 
 She was really in something of a quandary, 
 for she did not desire the attentions of 
 gentlemen, and hoping to rid herself of their 
 
200 HUGE DARNABY. 
 
 importunities, for a time at least, and having 
 convinced herself that Maud looked rather 
 pale and needed country air, she concluded 
 that she would accept once more the invita- 
 tion of Mr. and Mrs. Crawford to visit them. 
 She thought that she would stay with them 
 until she could secure a house in town or 
 in the country where she could spend the 
 summer. 
 
 So it happened that Hugh was again sur- 
 prised to hear from his brother Tom's wife, 
 who obtained her information from Mrs. 
 Crawford, that Mrs. Carson would be on a 
 visit to the latter in a few days, and that if 
 she could secure the rental of a house she 
 would remain for the balance of the summer 
 after her visit to the Crawfords was over. 
 
 Hugh's heart leaped to his mouth. Was 
 fate about to be propitious ? Was she not 
 directing events into a channel which might 
 possibly result in his being frequently in 
 Mrs. Carson's company? 
 
 Mrs. Carson and Maud, who, by-the-by, 
 
HUGH BARNABY. 201 
 
 was something over five years old, now ar- 
 rived, as was expected, and Hugh soon after 
 made it convenient to call. 
 
 Mrs. Carson told him that she wished to 
 secure a house for the summer in the neigh- 
 borhood, or at least in town, and very natu- 
 rally, as a matter of friendship merely, of 
 course, he offered to try to find one for her. 
 He was peculiarly persevering and persistent 
 in his efforts to do so, and finally he was 
 successful. He found a nice little cottage 
 situated on the outskirts of the town, and 
 engaged it for her at a fair rental. It could 
 be rented for three months with the refusal 
 of a year's time. To live here would be like 
 living in town and in the country at the same 
 time, for the house was set in a perfect garden 
 of flowers. Blossom-bearing bushes and 
 shrubs and plants of many varieties grew up 
 to the very windows, and at this time were 
 in full bloom. 
 
 A small house it was, only six rooms, with 
 an acre of ground belonging to the domain, 
 
202 HUGH DARNABY. 
 
 and as neat as a new pin from garret to cel- 
 lar, and freshly painted also. It was a per- 
 fect little gem of a place. And having se- 
 cured the rental of it he drove Mrs. Carson 
 in one sweet summer day to see it and to let 
 him know if it suited her, before the bargain 
 was closed. 
 
 She did like it, and as she was passion- 
 ately fond of flowers she was more than 
 pleased, and the place did look so neat and 
 homelike. 
 
 So the bargain was closed that afternoon, 
 and afterwards, when she was settled in the 
 house, she found that she was more con- 
 tented, happier, in fact, than she had been 
 since her husband's death. 
 
 And, in passing, let me tell you another 
 thing concerning her ; she was not only fond 
 of flowers, but was passionately fond of 
 music. And the sweet odors from the 
 flowers and the sweet sounds of music never 
 failed to touch a pathetic chord in her nature 
 and fire her soul with heavenly thoughts and 
 aspirations. 
 
HUGH DARNAB7. 203 
 
 And why should she not be comparatively 
 happy at least ? Here were flowers in pro- 
 fusion, music she could have at her pleasure, 
 for she was a fine performer on the piano. 
 Her music was always from the heart — from 
 the soul; she loved it and it was good. 
 
 Then she had her little girl, whom she 
 loved devotedly, with her, and she was among 
 friends and acquaintances whom she was 
 fond of, and who loved her. In fact, she 
 felt at home once more ; then what more in 
 reason could she ask? 
 
 But while the moving and preparations 
 for the occupation of the cottage were going 
 on, Hugh thought that it was incumbent on 
 him, acting for Mrs. Carson in this matter, 
 to see to many little things which needed a 
 man's supervision. The consequence was 
 he got into the habit of dropping in at the 
 cottage during the evening to see what prog- 
 ress was being made in the preparations ; 
 and this habit seemed to have taken such a 
 hold upon him that it clung to him until the 
 
204 HUGH DARNABY. 
 
 last chair had been placed in position and 
 the last tack had been driven. 
 
 Mrs. Carson did not encourage these visits 
 any more than politeness seemed to compel 
 her to do, but she did not see any way to 
 refuse his proferred services without being 
 rude, and Hugh did not intend that she 
 should find any excuse for declining them. 
 
 Had he not been very kind to them ? Had 
 he not secured the house for them ? Had he 
 not tried to make everything as pleasant as 
 possible ? It was quite natural that he 
 should wish to note the progress in and the 
 results of the experiment. Besides, it would 
 he extremely ungrateful, not to say impolite, 
 not to invite Mr. Darnaby to call. 
 
 Thus ran her thoughts, and thus, in part, 
 argued he to himself, without consciously 
 recognizing the fact that he was doing so. 
 
 These days passed swiftly and pleasantly 
 by, and Mrs. Carson had become used to and 
 almost reconciled to Hugh's frequent pres- 
 ence at the cottage, for he had been very 
 
HUOH DARNABY. 205 
 
 careful not to touch on any tacitly forbidden 
 subject. In fact, when he failed to come, as 
 it sometimes happened, for a day or so at a 
 time, she felt his absence ; something seemed 
 to be lacking in the full complement of the 
 day. 
 
 Maud missed the romp which she always 
 had with him when he came. Still Annie 
 Carson was not altogether satisfied with the 
 relationship which had seemed to have 
 grown so naturally, so unostentatiously, so 
 easily between them. 
 
 It gave her an uneasy feeling, but, on the 
 whole, it was pleasant. 
 
 One lovely day in the latter part of August 
 they were walking together in the garden 
 near the rustic arbor which was well hidden 
 from the street by the bushes and vines 
 growing over it and over the fence. It was 
 Saturday, and toward the close of the day. 
 Captain Darnaby had finished his day's Avork 
 and had dropped in to spend an hour before 
 going to his boarding-house. 
 
206 EUOH DARNABY. 
 
 Little Maud was sitting on one of the 
 benches just outside of the arbor twining 
 wreaths made with the vine slips and roses 
 which lay on the bench beside her, each slip 
 and each flower awaiting its turn to be made 
 useful in her work, or to be thrown aside at 
 the caprice of the young lady. 
 
 She and " Uncle Hugh," as she called 
 him, had become very great friends. He 
 had taught her to call him thus, out of mere 
 sport; but she had taken it seriously, and 
 had strictly adhered to this manner of 
 addressing him ever since. 
 
 " Uncle Hugh," she now exclaimed, " come 
 here ; I have a beautiful rose for you." 
 And he obeyed the summons. 
 
 She stood up on the bench, reached up as 
 he stood in front of her, and pinned the 
 flower on his coat. 
 
 "And what shall I give Maud for such a 
 pretty rose," said he. As quick as thought 
 she tip -toed and put up her pretty little 
 mouth for a kiss. Hugh kissed the rosy 
 
HUGH DARNABT. 207 
 
 lips, and picking her up ran off with her 
 around the walks. They had quite a romp 
 together before he brought her back to the 
 arbor where the mother sat looking on and 
 smiling. And she could not help thinking, 
 " He would be very good and loving to my 
 little girl." 
 
 In fact, the little girl had learned to love 
 " Uncle Hugh " very much, and " Uncle 
 Hugh " had become very fond of the bright 
 little face and charming ways of his play- 
 mate. At last, tiring of the sport, she asked 
 to be put down, and ran to the kitchen to 
 beg a piece of bread and jam from the cook. 
 
 Mandy, with whom we made acquaintance 
 on the day Jim left Mr. Darnaby for the 
 war, was ensconced in the kitchen as presid- 
 ing genius there. She and Jim were mar- 
 ried now and were living in the town. Jim 
 was just as fond as ever of Mars Hugh, as 
 he still called him, and it was through 
 Hugh's procurement that Mandy was now 
 in the employ of Mrs. Carson. 
 
208 HUGH DARNABY. 
 
 She had almost unconsciously gotten into 
 the habit of depending on him for the gen- 
 eral direction of the strictly business affairs 
 of her little household. This direction was 
 done on his part in the way of advice, and 
 it was accepted by her as suggested. And — 
 well he was a lawyer, and we all know that 
 a woman dependent on herself needs the 
 advice of a business man, and why not Cap- 
 tain Darnaby, who was thoroughly capable 
 and honest. 
 
 After the little girl had gone into the 
 house for the bread and jam Hugh sat 
 down on the bench strewn with flowers to 
 rest after his romp. Mrs. Carson also hap- 
 pened to be sitting on the bench, and as Hugh 
 sat there fanning himself with his hat, he 
 thought that she had never looked so lovely 
 or so lovable. The same brown hair as of 
 yore, with the ringlets brushed into a wavy 
 mass from her forehead, and the same brown 
 eyes, except that the depths in them seemed 
 to hold deeper feeling and thought, were 
 there before him. 
 
EUOE DARNABY. 209 
 
 He broke the silence presently with the 
 question, "Do you know, Mrs. Carson, how 
 I knew first that you were in the church the 
 Sunday we met last summer ? " 
 
 "No," said she, " I do not, unless it was 
 that you saw me." 
 
 " No," returned he, " it was not in that 
 way that I became aware of your presence. 
 My back, of course, was turned to the door, 
 and I was not expecting to see you at all, 
 but I heard your voice as you sang, heard it 
 rising far above the rest of the voices, and 
 sweeter than any." 
 
 She looked up at him quickly and turned 
 pale. He saw the expression in her face 
 and noted the pallor, but he went on — it 
 seemed impossible not to speak now that he 
 had begun. 
 
 " At first," he continued, " it came to me 
 as a memory of something pleasant that I 
 had known. The tones were familiar as if 
 they had been heard in my dreams. But, as 
 I have said, not knowing that you were 
 
210 HUGH DARNABT. 
 
 within a hundred miles' distance of the old 
 church, I could not believe that I was listen- 
 ing to and actually hearing the voice which 
 I had never for a moment forgotten ; but 
 then it seemed too real to be a dream. And 
 then I looked around and saw you." 
 
 "Does it seem strange to you that I, a 
 man of the practical everyday world, felt a 
 warm glow in my heart ? Does it sound foolish 
 and sentimental when I tell you that life, for 
 me, lost much of its sombre character in that 
 moment, and that the whole place grew 
 brighter? It is, nevertheless, the truth, 
 Annie Carson." 
 
 She began to flush as he uttered these 
 words, and a lovely blush spread all over her 
 face and down her neck until it was lost 
 among the ruffles of her frilled collar. 
 
 He spoke so rapidly that she had no 
 chance of interrupting him. 
 
 " No, Annie Carson," he continued vehe- 
 mently, "I have not forgotten that voice, nor 
 have I forgotten any of the incidents of the 
 
HUGH DARNABT. 211 
 
 old days when I used to hear it quite often, 
 before — before we both went away from the 
 old life." 
 
 As he spoke he drew from his pocket a 
 much faded pink ribbon. 
 
 " This," he continued, holding it up before 
 her, "was the talisman which accompanied 
 me in many a trying hour, and the recollec- 
 tion of the words spoken when it came into 
 my possession upheld me in the face of 
 death." He paused for breath, and she, 
 taking advantage of the opportunity, hastened 
 to say, "And why do you recall those days 
 and the words then spoken, Captain Darnaby ? 
 Don't you think it would be better to let 
 them stay buried in that past, or do you 
 wish to reproach me with what has happened 
 since? I, too, remember what was spoken 
 on the night before you left for the war, but 
 have you no reproach for yourself, in that 
 things turned out as they did afterwards?" 
 
 " No," answered he, " I do not think it best 
 to keep silent, but, of course, I do not presume 
 
212 HUGH DARNAB Y. 
 
 to criticise your action in any respect what- 
 ever." Then he explained to her the reasons 
 which had deterred him from taking advan- 
 tage of her permission to renew his suit for 
 her hand after his return from the army. 
 
 " Our friendship is very pleasant as it is," 
 he continued, "but you know it cannot con- 
 tinue on the same basis that it has since you 
 came back to us, because I love you and 
 must tell you so. I spoke of those old times 
 because I loved you then and because I 
 thought that you cared something for me, 
 and because I do not see any just reason for 
 your not giving me your love now if you 
 care for me in that way. I have striven 
 against the utterance of this love for you, 
 wishing to save you any possible annoyance 
 or discomfort, but it would not down, and 
 the knowledge of it has been the sweetest, 
 the holiest thing in life to me." He hesitated, 
 but she made no reply, then he resumed : "I 
 did not mean to speak at this time, but as I 
 looked on your sweet face after my romp 
 
HUGH DARNABT. 213 
 
 with Maud, it burst irresistibly from me. I 
 know and respect your deep and lasting love 
 for your husband's memory, and I love to 
 think and to know that while he lived you 
 were a good and loving wife to him." 
 
 She seemed about to speak, but he did 
 not stop. 
 
 " I know what you would say, but I cannot 
 see that this love, this inordinate sense of 
 obligation, should bind you forever and 
 prevent you from accepting the honest love 
 of any other man. I have not asked you to 
 love me, but I know that if you love me at 
 all it is with your whole heart and nature. 
 I would not ask or wish you to forget or to 
 cease to love and respect the memory of 
 your dead husband. I never knew him per- 
 sonally, but I can love his virtues and 
 respect his character, and I do. I do not 
 believe, Annie, that you are altogether in- 
 different to me. Am I wrong in this ? Your 
 answer to this will mean a great deal to me, 
 I think I know your thoughts in respect to 
 
214 EUOH DARNABY. 
 
 your husband, and your ideas relating to 
 certain things which you regard as obliga- 
 tions, and it was in the hope of dissuading 
 you from the exaggeration of these ideas 
 that I have referred to this phase of the 
 matter. If I have gone too far, forgive me, 
 for I would not say a word to hurt you for a 
 great deal. But when a man is pleading for 
 his life's happiness he may unconsciously be 
 led into indiscretions of speech and action 
 in his great earnestness. 
 
 " Allow me to say — I speak impersonally 
 now as far as I myself am concerned—*! fear 
 that your sense of duty and obligation has 
 grown morbid, and that it may cause you to 
 reject many chances of happiness which 
 may come to you for acceptance." 
 
 He paused at last, and she hastened to 
 say, " It would be untrue, Captain Darnaby, 
 if I should declare that I am indifferent to 
 your regard for me. I do feel honored in 
 that you have offered me your love, for I 
 believe that it is honorable and true. I 
 
HUOH DARNABY. 215 
 
 think that when an honest man offers a 
 woman an honest and honorable love he 
 pays her the greatest compliment in his 
 power. Still I cannot but be sorry that you 
 have spoken, Hugh, and yet I am glad. It 
 cannot be as you wish, but still 1 will be 
 candid with you, and will say as I could 
 wish also. We cannot seem to think alike 
 in regard to one matter which you have 
 mentioned. And, thinking as I do, I could 
 not accept your love and be true to myself. 
 As you say our relations lately have been 
 very pleasant and very innocent, and, of 
 course, in so far as I am concerned, we shall 
 still be good friends. I do not wish to even 
 seem to treat you with indifference, but you 
 understand that now we cannot maintain the 
 same close and outward relationship which 
 we have up to this time. The only excuse, 
 if excuse we needed, for the same, is now 
 gone. People have already begun to talk of 
 the frequency of your visits to the cottage 
 and to speculate on the results. I learned 
 
216 HUGE DARNABY. 
 
 this much through some words of Mandj's, 
 but I did not have the heart to speak to you 
 about the matter. Besides, I was at a loss as 
 to know how to approach you upon the sub- 
 ject without taking too much for granted." 
 
 "Then," interrupted he, "I am not mis- 
 taken in hoping and believiug that you do 
 care for me? And," taking her hand, he 
 drew her to him, saying, " A fig for what 
 people say." 
 
 The barrier was down, she could not 
 resist him longer, and unresistingly, scarcely 
 audibly, she whispered, " I do love you, 
 Hugh, God forgive me if I do wrong in tell- 
 ing you so." 
 
 They were standing now, and, imprinting 
 a kiss on her forehead, he said, "My poor 
 girl, do you think that I will press you to 
 give me that which you cannot give willingly? 
 No, a thousand times no ; but don't you think 
 that you could be happy as my wife? " 
 
 She spoke with difficulty in reply, " Not 
 now, Hugh — I cannot just yet. I hope it 
 may be so at some time," 
 
HUGH DARNAB7. 217 
 
 At this juncture Maud came running into 
 the garden with the slice of bread and 
 preserves which she had gone foraging for. 
 " Uncle Hugh " she cried as she came toward 
 them, " have some of my bread and zerbs." 
 He waited until she reached him, took her 
 up, pretended to eat a piece of the bread, 
 kissed her gravely, lovingly, and, saying 
 " Good-night " to her mother, was gone. 
 
 As Annie Carson walked into the house, a 
 belated bird came flying to roost in the 
 honey-suckle bush by the door, and after 
 twittering its hasty evening prayer, sank to 
 rest near the nest which he and his mate had 
 built earlier in the summer. 
 
218 HUGH DARNAB7. 
 
 CHAPTEE XV. 
 
 IN WHICH IS GIVEN A DESCEIPTION OF THE 
 COUNTY FAIK. 
 
 A week had passed since the events 
 chronicled in the latter part of the last 
 chapter had transpired, and the great event 
 of the year was already begun — the county 
 "Agricultural Fair." 
 
 It was here that the fine stock raisers 
 entered their animals in competition one with 
 another, and the owner of the one, in any 
 particular ring, which bore the " blue 
 ribbon" therefrom felt very proud indeed. 
 This " blue ribbon " represented to the 
 assembled spectators that the animal on 
 which it was tied was the best styled, the 
 nearest to perfection in physical beauty of 
 its kind which had competed. This animal 
 had taken " the premium," and its owner 
 was substantially benefited thereby, for the 
 
HUGH DARNABY. 219 
 
 value of the animal was immediately 
 enhanced, as well as that of the entire family 
 to which it belonged. 
 
 It was at the county fair that the well 
 kept, comfortably fed " Short-Horn " cattle, 
 with pedigree as long as that of an English 
 lord, were to be seen in perfection, and less 
 frequently the mild-eyed Jersey or Alderney 
 made its slow way into the show ring inside 
 of the amphitheatre. Here the fast trotting 
 horses, or the beautiful " gaited " animals 
 for which Kentucky is noted were to be 
 found in graceful competition, and as some 
 favorite horse or rider moved around the 
 outer edge of the ring a shout of encourage- 
 ment or admiration would go up from the 
 throats of the occupants of the tiers of seats 
 beneath the roof of the amphitheatre. 
 
 Here, also, the youth and beauty of 
 Kentucky, in human form, as well as the 
 middle-aged and gray-haired, was assembled. 
 
 To one who for the first time attends one 
 of these fairs it is a very interesting as well 
 
220 HUGH DARNABY. 
 
 as a rather bewildering sight ; the hundreds 
 and even the thousands of people gathered 
 from far and near, the brass band occupying 
 the elevated stand in the centre of the 
 amphitheatre doing its best to be heard above 
 the hubbub of the myriad of voices, and 
 other commingling of sound, the neighing of 
 the horses, the bellowing of the kine, the 
 bleating of the sheep, the confusion of the 
 vendors crying out the excellency each of his 
 particular ware, the snap of the target-gun, 
 and above all the sharp shrill voice of the 
 man with the wheel of fortune, where any 
 one and all so disposed might gamble away 
 his hard-earned or easy-earned money, it 
 mattered not which to the man turning the 
 wheel, who would sing out untiringly, "Let 
 her go round and round, always once, and 
 sometimes twice, and who's on the lucky 
 red " — all these things, I say, served to con- 
 fuse as well as to interest. 
 
 On the grounds belonging to the Agricul- 
 tural Association in the county in which 
 
HUGH DARNABT. 221 
 
 Hugh Darnaby lived, and not far from the 
 amphitheatre, stood, at the time of which we 
 are writing, a large round building called 
 the Floral Hall, furnished with shelves and 
 spaces set apart for the use of those having 
 displays of cut flowers, and various farm 
 products raised in that part of the country. 
 Here were to be seen vegetables and fruit 
 and grain, pumpkins that would rival in size 
 the one celebrated in the story of Cinderella, 
 corn, melons, and potatoes weighing several 
 pounds apiece. 
 
 Here, also, were displayed crazy quilts, 
 piece quilts, fancy and plain sewing, hand- 
 sewed and machine-sewed, paintings in oil 
 and in water colors, drawings, both pencil 
 and crayon, butter fresh and yellow just 
 from the dairy ; and, in fact, everything 
 which would represent the industry and the 
 handiwork of the people of that part of the 
 country. 
 
 Some five or six years after the late Civil 
 War these agricultural fairs were at the 
 
222 S UOE DARNAB Y. 
 
 height of their popularity in Central Ken- 
 tucky, and almost every county in that part 
 of the State had its fair. 
 
 Afterwards the race tracks and " Grand 
 Stands " took the place of the " Old Amphi- 
 theatre," and something of the morale was 
 thereby lost, and now the fairs themselves 
 have about ceased to exist. 
 
 Most of the time during fair week the 
 Floral Hall, of which mention has been 
 made, used to be filled with laughing crowds, 
 for most of the people went to the fair to 
 enjoy themselves, and the strains of beauti- 
 ful music from the string baud, which was 
 stationed in the centre of the building, sur- 
 rounded by the display of exquisite flowers, 
 was very enticing, very liable to soothe, very 
 certain to please. 
 
 Everybody from the country round about 
 brought " dinner" along, and toward noon 
 hundreds of picnicking parties were scattered 
 over the grounds under the shade of the 
 trees. 
 
HUGH DARNABY. 223 
 
 At first, and for years, every one pic- 
 nicked on the ground in true democratic sim- 
 plicity, but at the time of which we are 
 writing these fairs had become to be of great 
 social importance. 
 
 Men of note, not only at home, but men 
 of note from abroad, from other States and 
 distant cities, were attracted to the fairs, and 
 began to make them the occasions for the 
 renewal of that social intercourse which 
 comes only occasionally to those who are 
 separated most of the time by great actual 
 distance. 
 
 The sister States, both north of the Ohio 
 river as well as those west of the Mississippi, 
 and also those east of the Allegheny moun- 
 tains, sent their daughters to these fairs. 
 
 The old State of Kentucky had begun to 
 recover from the effects of the war, and one 
 of her first feelings was that she must pro- 
 vide for the entertainment of these guests. 
 The old spirit of antibellum hospitality was 
 not dead — only it had been dormant and very 
 
224 HUOH DARNABT. 
 
 greatly crippled. So it came to pass that most 
 of the officers of the different fair associa- 
 tions, who were generally men of wealth, and 
 a good many of the other richer folk, built 
 themselves " booths " — that is, long-sided, 
 shingle-roofed buildings, furnished with a 
 long table extending up and down the middle 
 of the building, and benches alongside of the 
 walls, with a kitchen attached. 
 
 These booths were generally permanent 
 buildings, standing unused during the whole 
 of the year, except on the days when the 
 county agricultural fair was in progress ; but 
 on those days the most abundant and costly 
 spreads were displayed on these board tables, 
 and served to the guests from spotless linen, 
 often by as fair white hands as ever were 
 delicately skilled in the art of cookery. 
 
 But why do I linger in the description of 
 those days? Because I wish those who 
 may chance to read these pages to under- 
 stand, in as far as it is possible for me to 
 bring before them the pictures of such 
 
HVOH DARNABY. 225 
 
 scenes as they remain in my mind, the man- 
 ners and customs of the people among whom 
 Hugh Darnaby and Annie Carson lived and 
 moved and had their being, and perhaps a 
 few tender recollections of my own hover 
 around these times, and make me loath to 
 pass over them too hurriedly. 
 
 However, it was the gala week of the 
 year. I write of the good old times, and 
 much more might be said, but I desist. 
 Things may be just as pleasant now ; I am 
 sure I hope so. Alas, I am afraid that such 
 retrospection is a sure sign of approaching 
 old age. Well, so let it be. 
 
226 HUGH DABNABF. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 A SCENE AT THE COTTAGE OF MKS. CARSON. 
 
 After Captain Hugh Darnaby had gone 
 from Mrs. Carson's house on the Saturday 
 evening heretofore spoken of, she managed 
 to drag through the balance of the evening 
 until Maud was put to bed and Mandy had 
 left for the night. Then she went to her 
 room, and until late into the night she sat or 
 walked the floor, torn by conflicting thoughts 
 and emotions. At one time she would give 
 herself up to happy reverie, and she would 
 almost determine that if fate should so decree 
 she would marry Hugh Darnaby without 
 further struggle. 
 
 " Love him " ? she said more than once. 
 Yes, she loved him with her whole heart. 
 She knew it at last, beyond a doubt. 
 
 But as she uttered the acknowledgment 
 of it there seemed to fall a hand upon her 
 
HUGH DA EN A B Y. 227 
 
 shoulder, and a voice seemed to whisper in 
 her ear, "You are mine. Be true, be 
 true." And frightened and distressed, she 
 crouched, shivering, close into the ample and 
 easy chair by the side of her baby's bed. 
 And there she slept. She had indeed grown 
 morbid. 
 
 She was persuaded by her friend, Mrs. 
 Crawford, to go out to the fair grounds on 
 Thursday of the next week, the day on which 
 the gaiety and success of the week reached 
 its climax, and there she saw everybody 
 enjoying themselves, and met many of her 
 old acquaintances, even coming across a one- 
 time schoolmate now and then, who had 
 married and moved away from the county. 
 
 She forgot herself entirely for the time 
 being, and the consequence was that she was 
 happy, very much, 'tis true, through sympa- 
 thy with the mood of others. 
 
 When about leaving the grounds she and 
 Mrs. Crawford accidentally met Hugh Darna- 
 by, who walked to their carriage with them 
 
228 HUGH DARNABT. 
 
 and assisted them into it. They were 
 together but a very few minutes, still it was 
 long enough for Maud to ask " Uncle Hugh " 
 why he had not been to see them. He made 
 some evasive answer, but Mrs. Crawford, 
 who was interested in these two friends of 
 hers, had been watching, quietly but approv- 
 ingly, the intimacy which seemed to have 
 been growing up between them during the 
 summer, thought that she saw something 
 was the matter here. She was a true friend 
 of Mrs. Carson, and called on her some days 
 after this, and in her quiet and gentle way 
 she managed to find out how the matter 
 stood, and before the call was over gave Mrs. 
 Carson some very sensible and plain talk, 
 which bore its fruit in due season as all 
 sensible words do. 
 
 Fair time was even a more propitious time 
 for match making than Christmas, and all 
 such arrangements for this year had been 
 made, and things in general had settled 
 down to their usual quiet and uneventful 
 
HUGH DARNABT. 229 
 
 tenor, and still Captain Darnaby had not 
 put in an appearance at the Carson cottage, 
 to Maud's great disgust. Mrs. Carson was 
 really very miserable during this time, for 
 while she did not think that she could marry 
 Hugh, she was not willing to lose his friend- 
 ship if it was possible to retain it. As he 
 had not been to call at the cottage since that 
 last Saturday evening, she was afraid that 
 she had offended him, that she had driven 
 him away, and woman-like she was sorry for 
 it, for she had not meant to be unkind. 
 
 She had intended to be very firm, to tell 
 him that though she loved him she could 
 not marry him, that she felt almost that it 
 was a kind of sacrilege to confess even to 
 herself that she loved again, though she 
 could not help it. And yet she felt that she 
 had failed to make him understand her ideas 
 in this regard very fully. She knew that 
 she had given him some reason to hope that 
 at some time in the future she might marry 
 him ; this she had not intended ; but that 
 
230 HUGH DARNAB7. 
 
 strange inconsistency of woman made her 
 glad that she had. 
 
 In fact, Mrs. Carson had arrived at that 
 condition of mind in which she did not 
 know what was the right thing to do, 
 though she knew full well what she wanted 
 to do ; consequently, she was about as 
 miserable as could be. She had about 
 reached that point when a very little thing 
 might change the current of her life. 
 
 A little sound, judicially administered 
 common-sense advice often does a deal of 
 good in such cases, and it was given in this 
 instance by Mrs. Carson's friend, Mrs. 
 Crawford, who, stopping at the cottage on 
 her way to town one afternoon about this 
 time, told Mrs. Carson that in the first place 
 she was allowing the sense of obligation to 
 her husband's memory to become greatly 
 exaggerated ; that she was young yet and 
 that in all human probability the larger 
 proportion of her life was before her, and 
 that she owed it to herself to try to make it 
 
HUGH DARNABY. 231 
 
 as happy as possible. And that in the next 
 place her little girl was already very fond of 
 Hugh, and that he loved Maud for the 
 child's own sake as well as for her mother's 
 sake, and that she should take this into 
 consideration also. 
 
 She told Mrs. Carson that her nature, 
 though strong in some respects, was so 
 womanly that it needed the protection 
 and guidance of a strong arm and a lov- 
 ing heart ; that she was eminently fitted 
 to make any man happy, and that her whole 
 heart seemed to rejoice in the idea of home; 
 that she was thoroughly acquainted with the 
 generous, manly heart which was offered 
 her, and that she was throwing away the 
 greatest chance of happiness of her life. 
 
 " I say all this, Annie," said Mrs. Crawford 
 finally, "because I think that I understand 
 your nature pretty well, and his also, and 
 because I believe that what I have said is 
 all true, and will be for your good." 
 
 "MoUie," answered Mrs. Carson, after 
 
232 HUGH DARNABT. 
 
 having presented all of what seemed to her 
 to be the objections to Mrs. Crawford's 
 theory, " my heart goes out to him with all 
 the love which is in it, but my sense of duty, 
 my ideas of loyalty, seem to restrain my 
 desire, I have a fear that I would be doing 
 my husband's memory a wrong. But why 
 even talk of what was a possibility, for he 
 has evidently accepted what he considered a 
 refusal. He has not been here since — for 
 nearly two weeks — and you know he used to 
 come to the cottage every day or so." 
 
 "Yes, I know," said Mrs. Crawford, "and 
 you miss him, too, don't you, my dear? 
 Well, be patient, and he will come back 
 again, or I don't know anything about man's 
 nature." 
 
 Nevertheless, another week went by, and 
 another, and still another — and the month 
 was gone, and the lovely October was come 
 again, and it was about time that Mrs. Car- 
 son was thinking of giving up the dear little 
 cottage and going back to the city. 
 
HUGH DARNAB T. 233 
 
 The thought of leaving it made her very 
 sad, for it had become very much like home 
 to her, and as the days advanced the cer- 
 tainty that she must soon give it up op- 
 pressed her as if she was about to bury 
 another one qf her loved ones. 
 
 She began to look very seriously into the 
 future, and she saw how lonely and love- 
 less, save for the love of her little girl, it 
 would be for her. 
 
 Ere many years had passed even that love 
 would be at least divided with some one else. 
 It would be claimed by some one else, and 
 the depth, the strength of it would have 
 gone to that other one in a closer relation- 
 ship than even that of a mother's. 
 
 She saw herself an old woman tottering 
 alone in her son-in-law's house perhaps, still 
 alone and traveling through old age to the 
 grave. For no amount of wealth can pur- 
 chase that companionship which is so agree- 
 able and acceptable to the old, and no 
 amount of kindness and consideration can 
 
234 HUGH DABNABY. 
 
 compensate for the absence of it, for it is 
 only found when two loving hearts grow old 
 together. 
 
 Ah, she was very sad and melancholy as 
 she stood at the street gate on this par- 
 ticular evening in early October, standing 
 there in the twilight dreaming sorrowfully, 
 thinking, yearning longingly for she knew 
 not what. Often our souls go grasping after 
 something into the " unknown " which our 
 minds know not of. And as she stood thus 
 there approached the form of a man coming 
 along on the sidewalk in her direction. 
 
 It proved to be Captain Hugh Darnaby, 
 who bowed as he was passing, merely saying 
 " Good evening, Mrs. Carson." 
 
 " Good evening, Captain Darnaby," she 
 replied, and she saw that he was passing on 
 without anything further, and a great wave 
 of indignation came surging from her heart 
 to her brain. 
 
 Suddenly he turned and walked back to 
 where she stood, and spoke again. " Mrs. 
 
HUGH DARNABT. 235 
 
 Carson, it occurred to me as I was about to 
 pass on that the lease on the cottage here 
 will soon expire, and I thought that I would 
 inquire if you wished to keep it longer. 
 The owner of the property, whose agent I 
 am, spoke to me about the matter as I came 
 up the street from the depot, and as I acted, 
 de facto, as your agent also when you rented 
 the house, he naturally spoke to me for infor- 
 mation as to your intentions relative to keep- 
 ing the house or not keeping it longer. If, 
 however, you would rather see him yourself, 
 I will tell him to call whenever it will be 
 convenient to you for him to do so, otherwise 
 I shall take pleasure in acting as your agent 
 still, and will make any arrangement with 
 him which you may desire." 
 
 " I shall be greatly obliged to you. Captain 
 Daruaby, if you will speak to the owner for 
 me, and say to him that I am really sorry, 
 but that I shall have to give the cottage up 
 at the expiration of the lease." 
 
 " Very well, Mrs. Carson, I shall tell him 
 
236 HUOH DARNABY. 
 
 what you say immediately, for I know he 
 wishes to have time to make other arrange- 
 ments by the time you vacate. 
 
 And here the conversation seemed to have 
 reached a natural termination ; still he seemed 
 loath to leave, and suddenly he broke in 
 with — I have been away for a couple of 
 
 weeks, attending court in county, which 
 
 belongs to this circuit, and I just returned 
 this evening." 
 
 And there was another pause, and she 
 said not a word, for not yet was she mollified. 
 
 Then he continued, for he was puzzled at 
 her manner, " For ten days previous to that 
 time I was sick in bed, and" — but that 
 sentence was never finished. 
 
 A soft sigh of relief forced itself through 
 Mrs. Carson's lips. 
 
 It was not then on account of indifference 
 that he had absented himself from the cottage 
 for so long a time, nor was it that he was 
 offended with her. 
 
 " Sick, Captain Darnaby," said she hastily, 
 " I am very sorry to hear it. I did not know 
 
HUGH DARNABY. 237 
 
 it before. You should have let your friends 
 known." 
 
 And just at this juncture a little voice 
 sounded from the yard, "Oh, ' Uncle Hugh,' 
 is it you ? Oh, I am so glad. Mama, make 
 him come into the house for I want to show 
 him my new doll carriage. Why didn't you 
 come to see Maud, Uncle Hugh ? "We have 
 been awful lonesome, and Mama thought 
 that maybe you were mad." 
 
 " You little darling," said he, " have you 
 been lonesome ? ' Uncle Hugh ' has been sick, 
 and has been away from town, too. Do you 
 think that I would have forgotten my little 
 friend ? " 
 
 And he picked her up, as she threw the 
 gate open and ran to him, and stepped into 
 the yard. 
 
 Mrs. Carson then turned to him and said, 
 " Captain Darnaby, you must come in and 
 see Maud's new carriage." 
 
 And he went. Was it fate ? Very little 
 things often change the whole course of our 
 lives. 
 
238 HUOH DARNABT, 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 IN WHICH HUGH DARNABY RECEIVES HIS 
 REWARD. 
 
 Maud brought out her carriage for in- 
 spection, showed it to Hugh, insisted on his 
 admiring the trimmings, etc., and then they 
 had a play together, until finally, the little girl 
 became tired and crept up beside him on 
 the sofa, and asked him to tell her a story. 
 And, obedient to the young lady's wishes, he 
 proceeded to weave for her one of the most 
 wonderful fictions that was ever woven into 
 a story from the brain of man. But at last, 
 although the interest of the story was well 
 sustained throughout its entire length, the 
 small listener fell asleep with her tired little 
 head laying upon his arm. 
 
 Oh, what a lovely picture they made. 
 The mother watched it, and as she did so a 
 bright light came into her eyes, and a look 
 
HUGH DARNABT. 239 
 
 of contentment spread over her counte- 
 nance, and a feeling of rest and content- 
 ment took possession of her heart. 
 
 Hugh Darnaby had no excuse for staying 
 now, except that he did not wish to disturb 
 the sleeping child. He glanced down at her 
 face — a smile was playing over it — she was 
 dreaming pleasant dreams. He gently laid 
 her head upon the cushions, and bending 
 over her kissed her, then turning around and 
 facing the mother he was about to say, " I 
 have no further excuse for staying, and I 
 suppose I must go." But, seeing the large 
 tears like mammoth dew-drops glistening in 
 her eyes, and seeing that an almost heavenly 
 light shone over her countenance, he stepped 
 toward her — irresistibly impelled to do so. 
 
 He approached her feeling that she was 
 some holy thing. The purest, strangest 
 feeling that he had ever experienced took 
 possession of him as he leaned over the 
 back of the chair in which she sat — and 
 pressed a kiss on her forehead. 
 
240 HUGE DARN A B T. 
 
 " Annie " — and this was all he said. 
 
 " Oh, Hugh," she cried, " take me if you 
 will. I love you ; be a father to my father- 
 less child." And she rose from the chair 
 and walked over to the sofa on which her 
 little daughter was sleeping. And Hugh 
 followed her and stood beside her, and they 
 two, as they stood looking upon the child, 
 made their vows. 
 
 " My darling," murmured he, while clasp- 
 ing her to him with a sudden rush of feel- 
 ing — and the soft tresses of her beautiful 
 brown hair fell upon his shoulder, and the 
 tender light of a great love and content set- 
 tled over them both. 
 
 Sweet Annie Pendleton — sweet Annie 
 Carson, your cup of life's happiness will 
 soon be full. 
 
 Hugh Darnaby, blessed an hundredfold 
 by the love of a pure and honest woman, 
 guard and keep the sacred trust which God 
 has confided to you, with loving faithfulness. 
 
 That was indeed an holy hour at the cot- 
 
HUOH BARNABT. 241 
 
 tage, and we cannot further intrude on its 
 sacredness. 
 
 As Captain Hugh Darnaby opened the 
 front gate some little time afterwards on 
 his way to his apartments, and Mrs. Car- 
 son was standing in the front door, he called 
 back, " Oh, by the way, shall I tell Mr. 
 Brown that you have concluded to keep the 
 cottage ? " 
 
 "Yes," she answered, "if you please; it is 
 such a dear little place after all — and don't 
 you think it would be very convenient to 
 your business?" 
 
 "Indeed I do," said Hugh in reply, "and 
 we must keep it." 
 
 And so they did, and before many months 
 were gone Hugh bought the place, and here 
 at last he and Annie built their little home, 
 and again that spring the little birds mated 
 and occupied the nest in the honeysuckle 
 vine near the corner of the porch. 
 
 A few days after Hugh and Annie had 
 decided to keep the cottage, Maud stoppe 
 
242 HUGH DARNABY. 
 
 from her play long enough to tell Mrs. 
 Crawford, who was paying a short visit to 
 Mrs. Carson, that " ' Uncle Hugh ' is going to 
 be my new papa, and won't that be Jolly? " 
 
 And early in December Hugh and Annie 
 were made man and wife. 
 
 And now, if the reader will permit, we will 
 pause to catch a breath before commencing 
 another, and the last chapter. 
 
E UGH DARNAB T. 243 
 
 CHAPTER XVni. 
 
 IN WHICH THE KEADER IS INTEODUCED TO TOM 
 BOWLING, THE CELEBRATED RACE HORSE, AND 
 IN WHICH OUR STORY CLOSES. 
 
 After his marriage Hugh's practice began 
 to increase very rapidly, and it extended 
 even into the other counties of the judicial 
 district in which he lived, so that he was 
 away from home quite often on business 
 connected with the different courts. Some- 
 times he took his wife with him, and it so 
 happened that it was in the month of May, 
 after his marriage, that he was in Lexington 
 for a day or so on business. His wife had 
 accompanied him, in order that she might 
 pay a visit to some friends living in that city, 
 and they were stopping at the Phoenix Hotel. 
 
 Mrs. Darnaby noticed that the hotel was 
 pretty well filled, and that a goodly number 
 of men were standing in groups on the side- 
 
244 HUGH DARNABT. 
 
 walk in front of the hotel, apparently in 
 earnest, and often excited, conversation. 
 
 At first she wondered what had drawn 
 such a crowd; but then she remembered, 
 and exclaimed to herself, "the races, of 
 course." 
 
 Yes, the spring races had begun, and one 
 of the principal and most noted events of 
 that section of the country was in progress 
 at Lexington. 
 
 This event had brought together many 
 people, not only from every part of the State, 
 but also not a few from distant sections of 
 the country, who had come to see the off- 
 spring of noble sires and rich-blooded dams 
 whirl around the track in competitive trials 
 of speed. And there would not be wanting 
 a few of the veterans of the turf in evidence 
 also. Short distance, and long distance 
 races were to be run. The stables of Harper, 
 Magrath, Sanford, and others would be 
 represented here. 
 
 The small-ankled, trim-limbed, graceful 
 
HUGH DARNABT. 245 
 
 colts, with dilated nostrils and flashing eyes, 
 and with pedigrees as long as the moral law, 
 would be there, ready and anxious to prove 
 their lineage by worthy deeds. 
 
 Yes, they were there to prove themselves 
 worthy scions of a noble race, or else to be 
 relegated to the drudgery of the plow and 
 the farm wagon. And when the race was 
 over, some there were who, with a proud 
 and scornful toss of the head, trotted to the 
 stable amid the deafening huzzas of the ex- 
 cited crowd, wearing, metaphorically speak- 
 ing, triumphant laurel crowns, and sniffing 
 the air with the consciousness of a task well 
 done. 
 
 But there were still others on whom had 
 been pronounced the " Mene, mene, tekel 
 upharsin " of the judges, and they passed 
 out of sight with bowed heads, with veins 
 swelled with the exertion so recently under- 
 gone, yet stepping with that grace which 
 comes only to those in whose veins courses 
 good blood. 
 
246 HUGH DABNABT. 
 
 And the thought would come, as one 
 looked into those eyes, that a noble regret, 
 a deep humility, mingled with an appeal for 
 sympathy, shown from them. 
 
 In those days many men of stability of 
 character, and whose standing in the com- 
 munity in which they lived could not be 
 questioned, were wont to relieve the tedium 
 of business with a day's recreation at the 
 races now and then. And even the ladies 
 in considerable numbers frequently graced 
 the " grand stand " by their presence, and 
 lent an air of refinement to the occasion. 
 
 Of course, there was much that was coarse 
 connected with these events, but the " sport," 
 pure and simple, was ennobled in many ways 
 at that time and in that locality. 
 
 Often a pool was bought by the gentlemen 
 attending ; sometimes a bet was made with 
 another gentleman, or a pair of kid gloves 
 or a box of handkerchiefs were wagered 
 with some member of the fair sex. 
 
 On this particular May morning, about 
 
HUOH DARNABY. 247 
 
 eleven o'clock, Hugh Darnaby returned to 
 the hotel, found his wife, and asked her if 
 she would not like to go out to the race- 
 track that afternoon and see the celebrated 
 Tom Bowling run in a three-mile race. 
 
 She hesitated at first, not being altogether 
 easy in her conscience as to the orthodoxy 
 of the ethics of the race-track, but upon 
 being assured that the best people in Lex- 
 ington often attended the races, and that 
 many of them, both ladies and gentlemen, 
 would surely be there on this particular day, 
 she consented, with the understanding that 
 Mr, and Mrs. Todd, the friends whom she 
 came to visit, would accompany them. 
 
 So they took a carriage and drove to the 
 track after dining at the hotel. And it must 
 be confessed that besides wishing to please 
 her husband she had a desire to see a great 
 horse run, for the reputation of the " run- 
 ners " of Kentucky is dear to the heart of 
 every Kentucky man and to that of most 
 Kentucky women. And what man, woman, 
 
248 HUGH DARNABY. 
 
 or child in the State had not heard of Tom 
 Bowling, and what one of them, deep down 
 in his heart, did not wish to see him, to 
 watch his lengthy leaps, to see him settle 
 down to business and proceed to annihilate 
 distance ? 
 
 What one of them but what would have 
 wondered at the ease and grace with which 
 he assumed that seemingly easy swing, and 
 set the pace which sent him under the string 
 a winner. 
 
 McGrath had two starters in the three- 
 mile race on this afternoon, one a very dark 
 brown mare, Kate, and the other Tom Bow- 
 ling. 
 
 It was booked for the mare to win the race, 
 if possible, but if it was not possible for her 
 to do so, then Tom was to pull ahead and 
 win. Bob Swim, then a celebrated jockeyj 
 rode Tom. When the horses came onto the 
 track, they were a pretty sight indeed to see. 
 
 There were three or four starters in the 
 race. Tom stood almost directly under the 
 
HUOH DARNABY. 249 
 
 tape, perfectly still, with his head low and 
 white face showing to the crowd, but with 
 eyes alert and ears bent forward as if ex- 
 pecting and awaiting the tap of the drum. 
 The other horses were somewhat restive and 
 seemed anxious to be off, but none displayed 
 the excitement so noticeable in the colts. 
 Each evidently had had experience, and the 
 race would be a hotly-contested one. 
 
 Tom was a beautiful animal as he stood, 
 dark red-bay in color, and of fine propor- 
 tions. 
 
 But at the tap of the drum the bunch is 
 off and a good start is made. By the time 
 they have covered the first half mile the 
 brown mare, Kate, surges to the front, and 
 keeps the lead for the first two miles in good 
 style, closely followed by the other two 
 horses, with Tom bringing up the rear. 
 
 The crowd is going wild with excitement 
 by this time ; bets are offered freely and some 
 are taken ; handkerchiefs flutter in the air, 
 hats are waved on high, and from the throats 
 
250 HUGH DARNABT, 
 
 of the throng comes a mighty shout. Ah ! 
 but what is that ? The two-mile limit has 
 been passed and one of the horses slowly 
 but surely begins to pull well up to Kate's 
 side, and now they are neck and neck. A 
 moment more— and— yes, he is ahead. 
 
 When the two-and-a-quarter post is passed 
 a thread of light is shown on the horizon 
 between the horse and the mare's nose, and 
 the other horse is creeping up alongside of a 
 Kate. There is now only three-quarters of 
 mile in which to finish the race and Kate is 
 beginning to show signs of distress and Tom 
 is still bringing up the rear. 
 
 It is evident now that the mare can't win, 
 but what is the matter with Tom ? Has he 
 found his match ? Another hundred yards 
 and the mare drops back and the two horses 
 forge ahead. Tom passes the mare, but the 
 horse in the lead hugs the fence on the inner 
 circle of the track, the other runs his nose 
 in toward this one's ribs, forming a pocket, 
 so that there is no possible chance for Tom 
 
HUGH DARNABT. 251 
 
 to pass them except by pulling around the 
 two on the outside, and this is what he is 
 endeavoring to do. Now Swim, now Tom! 
 Can they make it? 
 
 An anxious stillness is in the grand 
 stand and over the crowd. Necks are 
 craned, mouths are held agape, cheeks are 
 blanched, and hands grip tightly any object 
 in reach. 
 
 It seems that if something does not hap- 
 pen soon to relieve the congestion, this mass 
 of humanity will burst through the bounds 
 of time and cease to breathe the breath of 
 life. 
 
 But the seconds have been speeding, and 
 the horses have reached the two-mile-and-a- 
 half post, and Tom Bowling is neck and 
 neck with the foremost horse. Now they 
 start down the home stretch, coming like 
 mad, and Tom is slightly in the lead. 
 
 And now a great sigh breaks from the 
 crowd, and then a sound that reaches the 
 sky. On the horses come as if on the wings 
 
252 HUOH DARNABT. 
 
 of the wind, the jockey applying the whip to 
 the sides of Tom's rival. Suddenly Tom is 
 seen to leap and spurt like a steam-engine, 
 with nostrils wide open and the fire flashing 
 from his eyes; everybody is standing up 
 now, on the seats, on the railing, all bending 
 eagerly forward, each holding his breath for 
 the next two seconds, which seems an eter- 
 nity. And now the horses thunder under 
 the tape, with Tom Bowling two lengths in 
 the lead. 
 
 A mighty cheer goes up from thousands 
 of throats that Tom Bowling has won his 
 greatest race. 
 
 When the race was over, our friends 
 returned to the city, Mrs. Darnaby made her 
 visit to the Todds, and was ready to go home 
 with her husband the next day. 
 
 And time went on, and when the passing 
 of the years had changed many things, when 
 Maud had grown to be a very beautiful 
 young lady, and was quite sure she would 
 marry Tom Darnaby, Hugh's eldest nephew, 
 
HUGH DARNABT. 253 
 
 when Hugh's own boys, two of them, were 
 growing to be fine manly fellows, and a 
 sweet heavenly-faced little girl was come to 
 brighten their lives and share their love, 
 when Captain Hugh Darnaby had become 
 very popular, and was one of the most 
 generous-hearted men, when he was Judge 
 Darnaby, and liis brother Tom was State 
 Senator Darnaby, when the silver threads 
 had become very thick among the brown 
 locks upon his wife's head, and the lovelight 
 in her eyes had grown very mellow and 
 sweet, then we find that the trust of these 
 two in each other had not changed, that their 
 contentment and happiness had changed 
 but to grow more satisfying, more intense, if 
 less outwardly demonstrative. 
 
 Indeed they had joined hands, and were 
 traveling, quietly traveling together, down — 
 just over the crest of the hill that leads, let 
 us hope, into that love which surpasseth 
 man's understanding. 
 
RARE BOOK 
 COLLECTION 
 
 THE LIBRARY OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 AT 
 
 CHAPEL HILL 
 
 Wi Imer 
 323