THE UNIVERSITY OF 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 LIBRARY L 
 
 THE WILMER COLLECTION 
 
 OF CIVIL WAR NOVELS 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 RICHARD H. WILMER, JR. 
 
 t: 
 
jei*ffi«cou«,^ 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2010 with funding from 
 
 University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/unofficialpatrioOOgard 
 
^Y^-^^—T^ /^-^^^--^^^^^^ 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT 
 
 HELEN H. GARDENER 
 
 AUTHOR OF "is this YOUR SON, MY LORD? " " PRAY YOU, SIR, WHOSE 
 
 DAUGHTER?"' " PUSHED BY UNSEEN' HANDS," " A THOUI.HTLESS 
 
 YES," " MEN, WOMEN AND GODS," " FACTS AND FICTIONS 
 
 OF LIFE," ETC., ETC. 
 
 BOSTON 
 
 ARENA PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 
 Copley Square 
 
 1S94 
 
Copyright, 1S94, 
 
 l.y 
 
 HELF.X II. GARDEXF.R. 
 
 A II rights reserved. 
 
 Arena Press 
 
DEDICATION. 
 
 To those who, with heroic fortitude, have 
 faced the questions involved ; to Avhoni was and 
 is unknown the narrow vision whicli results in 
 bitterness ; who do not reckon upon great socio- 
 logical problems in the evolution of the race as 
 mere political ca^iital ; who are able at once to 
 compreliend and to respect divergent opinion, 
 and who do not brand as moral turpitude all 
 that falls outside the scope of their own experi- 
 ence or preference ; this volume is dedicated, in 
 the hope that it may make plain some tilings 
 that even the conscientious historian has failed 
 to understand or record, and upon which litera- 
 ture is so far silent. 
 
 602915 
 
" Fame is the rose on a dead man's breast." 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 
 
 CHAPTER L 
 
 A SON OF VIRGINIA. 
 
 Griffith Davenport was a clergyman. I 
 tell you this at the outset, so that you may be 
 prepared to take sides with or against him, as 
 is 3'our trend and temperament. Perhaps, too, 
 it is just as well for me to make another state- 
 ment, which shall count in his favor or to his 
 disadvantage, according to your own prejudices 
 or convictions. He was a Southern man. He 
 had been a slave-owner, and now he was neither 
 the one nor the other. But in connection with, 
 and in explanation of these last-mentioned facts, 
 I may sa}^ that he had been a law-breaker in 
 his native State, and was, at the very time of 
 which I tell you, evading the law in the State 
 of his adoption. 
 
.l.Y UXOFFK'IAL PATRIOT. 
 
 Both of these facts were the <lii-eet i-esults of 
 liaviiiL;' 1)eeii Itoi-ii to shive-()\\'iiershi|), and, at 
 the same time, with a eouseiciire \\hi>']i -was of, 
 and ill liarmoiiy witli. a (hiTcii'iit laiitttde and 
 lieredity. I trust that ynu \\-ill not infer from 
 this hist remark that I am (jf the dpinioii that 
 tlio conscieiiee of the X()rt]iern liahitant is of 
 more (hdieate iihur tlian is tliat of his Soutlierii 
 hrotlier, 'wlio is of the same mental and soeial 
 grade: for nothing- ronhl he fartlier from either 
 tlie facts or niy intentions limvin. Jjiit tliat it is 
 of a different t}'pe and trend is equally 1)eyond 
 controversy. Tlie prii'kings of the one are as 
 regtdar and as inressant, no douht, as are those 
 of the other: hut tlie stimtdaling eatises ]ia\'e 
 diffei'ent roots. I'^rhaps, too, it niav sound 
 strange to you tohca.r of one who can he spoken 
 of as liaving a somewhat sensitive conseieuce 
 and at tlie same time as heing ho\\\ a law-hreaker 
 and a law-evader. Ihit certain it is, that ^\'i^]l a 
 less primitive concei)tion of lav.-s and of men, 
 you will l)e a1)le to adjust, to a nicelv, tlie ideas 
 therein conveyed, and also to realize \uj\\' true 
 it is that times, conditions, and environment 
 sometimes determine the standard hy which the 
 
AX UNOFFICIAL FATIIIOT. 
 
 riglitfuliiess or wrongfulness of condnct is meas- 
 ured, and that it is quite within tlie possiljilities 
 for a man to be at once a law-breaker and a 
 good man, or a law-kee|)er and a bad one. 
 
 But I am not intending to warp your judg- 
 ment in advance, and you are to remember that 
 whatever my opinion of the quality of the Rev. 
 Grifitith Davenport's conduct may be, there is 
 another side to the matter, and that I shall not 
 take it greatl}- to heart if you should find your- 
 self on the other side. 
 
 But if, as I have sometimes heard readers say 
 — who looked upon themselves as of a some- 
 what superior order — you do not take a'n inter- 
 est in people who have placed themselves out- 
 side of the beaten pathway of legal regularity, 
 it wiirbe just as well for you to lay this little 
 story aside now, for, as I have said, it is a story 
 of a clergyman, a slave-holder, a law-breaker, 
 and a law-evader, wliich, I admit, does not at 
 the first blush present a picture to the mind of 
 a person in whom 3'ou and I, my lofty and im- 
 maculate friend, w^ould be greatly interested, or 
 with whom we would care to associate for any 
 protracted period. Still, I intend to tell the 
 
^.V UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 
 
 story, and in order to give you a perfectly clear 
 idea of ]iow uU tlit.' nioi'e ini[)()rtant events in 
 tliis enrionsly coniiilicated life eanie al)ont, I 
 sliall l)e ('(iiiiiiclltMl lo o() l),ic]c to the hoyliood of 
 j-oung I);iven])()rt, so tliat you may eatcli a 
 glimpse of tlie life and t]-aining, wIiIcIl were a 
 prelude and a. pre])arali(in — if von do not A\isli 
 to loolc upon llunu as exaclJN' a justilication — of 
 and l(.)r tlie later y(„'ai's of the life, vhieh t'Xperi- 
 enecMJ sueli strange trials, eoni[)liea-tions and 
 yieissitudes. 
 
 It Avas in the year eighteen liundred ami 
 twenty-four that the great sea of ^lethodism 
 lirst began to beat with a force that was like 
 that of a succession of mighty tidal waves upon 
 the previously placid Slate of Virginia. Young 
 Daven})ort had, at tliat time, just turned his lif- 
 teenth year, l)ut it was not until nearly four years 
 latei', when tlie tide of intei'est and excitement 
 had swept with a- })ower and influence impossi- 
 ble to picture iii these daj's of religious indiffer- 
 ence and critical iiupiiry, into the homes and 
 over the barriers of long-established things, that 
 young Griilitirs home felt the inyasion to 1)6 a 
 thing which it behooved gentlemen to consider 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 
 
 seriously, or even to recognize as existing, if 
 one may so express it, in an officia] sense. 
 
 As I suggested before, it would be dillieult, in 
 these later and less emotional days, when every 
 school-boy knows of doubts and questionings in 
 the minds of his elders, to picture adequately 
 the serene lack of all such doul)ts and question- 
 ings in Griffith Davenport's boyhood. 
 
 To be sure there Avere, and, I venture to as- 
 sume, always had been, disagreement and dis- 
 putes over forms, methods, and meanings ; but 
 these were not fundamental doubts of funda- 
 mental beliefs, of Avhicli it would be entirely 
 safe to say that young Davenport had never in 
 his whole life heard one little doubt expressed 
 or intimated, or that a question existed that 
 could tend to make any one suspect that there 
 were or could be unsettled realms in the system 
 and plan of salvation as laid down by Christian- 
 ity. He supposed, of course, that Christianity 
 M'as an incontrovertible, fixed, and ffiial religion. 
 Different sects he knew there were, but all of 
 these accepted the basic principle of Christianity. 
 All sprang from the same root. Some grew 
 eastward, some westward, and some made straight 
 
6 ^l-\' VXOFFK'IAL PATRIOT. 
 
 for lieavcn like the center shaft of a great oak; 
 Imt eaeh and all wei'e true linihs of the same 
 healthful trunk 'whose I'ODts found anchorage in 
 tlif hcd-rock of eternal truih. lie did not know 
 that there were other trees (^uile as vigorous 
 and eA'en more ex[iansive, eaeli oi ^\•hieh had 
 s[irung from thesei.'d of luinviin longing to solve 
 tlie unsolvalue. Idie ■• heathen "" he had heard 
 of, of course, in a condenniatorv or pitting way, 
 but he did not know or think of their M'orship 
 as ''religion/' It was '• fetichism,"* id(_)latry, 
 superstition. 01 Deists, lie had heai'd, if at all, 
 l)ut vaguely ; for it must be remend)ei'ed that in 
 the year of oitr Ijlessed Loi'd eighteen hundred 
 and twenty-seven the name of that himotis Deist, 
 Thomas Paine, who had done so much for the 
 liberty and dignity of the great new nation, Avas 
 not honored as it is to-day, and, indeed, so dense 
 was the philosophical ignorance of that time, 
 that the mention of the name of the authordiero 
 of the Revolution was seldom made except in 
 execration and contumely. Even of the Jews, 
 from whom his religion came, Griffith had heard 
 no good. They had slain the Christ, had they not? 
 Their own God condemned the act, did he not? 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATIIIOT. 
 
 Young Davenport supposed that this was all 
 true. He also supposed that because of a 
 blunder, made in ignorance and passion, in an 
 age long past, a whole race had ever since been 
 under the chastising hand of a just Jehovah, 
 Avho had decreed that their humiliation and the 
 expiation of the fatal blunder should be eternal. 
 That there were Jews who were to-day good, 
 devout and religious who still approved the 
 attitude of Pilate toward the Christ, he did not 
 know. He counted this class, therefore, as in 
 some sort. Christians also. ^Mistaken in method, 
 no doubt ; superstitious and blundering perhaps ; 
 but still secretly filled with sorrow and shame 
 for the awful crime of their race, and accepting 
 tlie verdict of God and the disciplining punish- 
 ment of time, he had no doubt of their final ac- 
 ceptance of what he believed established as 
 eternal Truth, and their consequent redemption 
 and salvation. The easy-going, gentle Episco- 
 palianism of his home-training, with its morning 
 and evening, perfunctory,- family prayers, its 
 " table grace " and its Sunday service, where all 
 the leading families of the county were to be 
 seen, and where the Rector read with so much 
 
8 ^4^ UNOFFICIAL PATIUOT. 
 
 finisli and the choir sang .so divinel}', the same 
 old liyniiis. weelv after Aveek, had so far been as 
 mneh a part of his life, — and wwe accepted as 
 mechanically, — as Avere the daily meals, the un- 
 paid negro lalior, and the fact that liis father, 
 the old '•'Squire."" sat in the hcst pcA\', because 
 he ha<l Ijuilt ami endowed the linest church in 
 the State. 
 
 All these things had come to ririnitii as quite 
 a matter of course ; as some C(|ually inqxirtant 
 things liavc come to yon and to nie — and not at 
 all as matters of surprise or as questions for 
 argument. 
 
 Tliat liis fatlier, the old major, swore I'oundly, 
 from tinu' to time, at the slaA'es, did not appeal 
 to the boy's mind as cillier strange or re})rehen- 
 sdjle ; so ti'ue is it that those things "whicli come 
 to us gradually, and iii the regular order of 
 events, do ]iot arouse Avithin us doubts and 
 questionings as do sudden or startling addi- 
 tions to our development or intellectual equip- 
 ment, when thrust unexpectedly in upon our 
 ordinary surroundings. Sueli moral or social 
 questions as were involved in the ownership of 
 slaves had, up to that time, produced no more 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 9 
 
 mental qualms in the boy than have the same 
 questions as to ownersliip of lands or of horses 
 upon you or me at the pi'esent time. 
 
 Jerry had been Griffith's own particular 
 " boy " ever since he could rememljer, and, al- 
 though Jerry was the older of the two, it would 
 be wholly unfair to all parties concerned not to 
 state clearly and fully that the righteousness 
 and inevitability of the relationship of OAvned 
 and owner, liad no more sinister meaning for 
 Jerry than it had for his young "Mos'Grif." 
 So prone are we all to accept as a linality that 
 to wdiich custom has inured us. 
 
 Was Jerry an Episcopalian ? Most assuredly ! 
 Were not all of the Davenports meml)ers of the 
 established order in all things ? And was not 
 Jerry a Davenport ? Not one negro on the 
 Avhole plantation had ever for one little moment 
 thought of himself as other than an Episcopa- 
 lian, — in so far as the Almighty would permit 
 one whose skin was black to be of the elect. 
 They one and all felt a real and eager pride in 
 the social and religious status of the Davenports, 
 and had never even harbored a doubt that they 
 would be permitted to polish the harps and hold 
 
10 .1-V UXOFFK'IAL PAmiOT. 
 
 tile horses of llmt fortimali' family A\lieii all 
 should again he I'euiiited in that hettei' •world, 
 AvheJ'e all iiii^'ht hr free hut not e(jual — for '' as 
 one star diffeiTd from another,"" cle. Xo dif- 
 ferent dreams haiA e^■er, so far, visited master or 
 shive. 
 
 '• r eonld never he happv in heaven \vithont 
 Jeri'v." had settled tiie (jiiestion in (Jrilhth's 
 mind, lor of e(Miist; his owii dt-stinalion was 
 snre. And llr- ni'u;-ro f;dt eijually secni'e Avhen 
 he thou^'ht, '' ]\Ios' Grif aiiTt Lwine ter go 
 ]lo\\:hah \vidont me. Xoljody else ain't gwine 
 ter take eahr oh liim. Xohody else know 
 how." 
 
 IJnt the unsettling times which hi'ought ]\Ieth- 
 odism, in a great and overwhelming wave, into 
 the ranks of estahlishcd things, hrought also 
 mutterings and perplexities and awakeiiings of 
 another sort. Aroused energies, stimulated con- 
 scienees, exeited mentalities are ever likely to 
 find varying otttlets. Progressive movements 
 seldom travel singly, and so it came ahout that, 
 mingled with the new religious unrest, there 
 were other and, perhaps yoti will say, graver 
 questions so inextrieahly joined, in some minds 
 
AJSr UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 11 
 
 that tlie one appeared to l)e tlie root and eause 
 of the other. 
 
 '^ Is shivery right ? If it is right for the hiity, 
 at least, is it not wrong for one who is an apos- 
 tle of the Son of God, who had not where to lay 
 His head ? Should Ijlaek men l)e free men ? " 
 and all the disturbing horde of questions which 
 followed in the train of the new religion, hegan 
 to float, at first in intangible ways, in tlie air. A 
 little later they took form in scowl or hasty 
 word, and at last crept into sermons, social dis- 
 cussions and legislative deliberations, as by de- 
 grees the echo of these latter floated down from 
 Washington or filtered through other sources, 
 from the Border States, where the irrepressible 
 conflict had arisen in a new form to vex the 
 souls and arouse tlie passions of men. The 
 pressing cjuestion of free soil or slave extension 
 had already begun to urge itself upon the public 
 mind and to harass the Border States, finding 
 utterance for or against that Congressional meas- 
 ure known as the jMissouri Compromise Bill. 
 Young Griffith Davenport had spent his seven- 
 teen years in an atmosphere of scholarly investi- 
 gation and calm, where little of even the echoes 
 
12 .1-V rXOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 
 
 of these distuil)iiig' intlueiiees ]i;k1 eoiiie. His 
 lionie was a eomfortable (3iie — iiKleed. the Ihiest 
 ill all that part of the '•valley": the lihraiy 
 (|iiite unusual in extent and ( luality for the tiir.e 
 and plaee. Grif's tutor ^^"as a l'nivel•sit^' man. 
 Ills pleasures those of a cMjiintiy 'scjuire : lor in 
 ^"iry■inia, as in England, the offiee of •• esijuire," 
 or justiee of the peaee. was wttut to pass fi'oin 
 father to eldest son, in families of eonsidera- 
 tion : and, indeed, at tliat early age TJrifs father 
 had, hy dt'grees, turned the duties of the olhee 
 over to the hoy, until tiow no one expeeted to 
 constilt the "•old "s(piire "" upon anv ordinarv 
 to[)ie. The ••young *s(|U!re "' settled it, ^^■hether 
 it A\'ere a dispute over dog-slain sheep or a mis- 
 understanding ahout the road tax. 
 
 I'[)on -this plaeid, '• estaldishi'd "" finalitv of 
 existeiiee it Avas, tlieii, A\hieh descended a 
 cyclone. Formalism in religion had ittn its 
 course. The pr()test was swift, impassioned, 
 sincere. Vigorou.s, earnest, htit often unlearned 
 men s[)rang" into prominence at a single bottnd. 
 Argttments arose. ]Men l)egau to ask if the Al- 
 mightv was pleased ■\^'ith hu-ms in whieli the sold 
 was dead — if mere Avords, and not sincere emo- 
 
.4.Y UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. \?> 
 
 tioii of the lieart, gTatified God. Was it wor- 
 ship to ,sini[)ly read or repeat the words of 
 aiiothe]' ? ^lust not one's own soul, inind and 
 heart furni,>h the key, as well as the medium, to 
 aid in real devotion ? Had the letter killed the 
 spirit ? 
 
 Young Grifiith heard. Tlie ideas fascinated 
 him. Oaths from liis father's lips struck liini 
 with a new meaning and a dilTerent force. 
 Whereas tliey liad l)een mere vocal emphasis, 
 now tliey were fearful maledictions — and from 
 a leadiiio' Christian, flic leading Christian of the 
 count}' ! 
 
 Grifiith pondered, trembled, listened again to 
 tlie new religious teachers — to whose meetings 
 he had, at first, gone in a spirit of mild fun, not 
 in the least reprohated hy liis father — and had, 
 at last, treniLlingly, passionately believed. 
 
U ^4.V Uy OFFICIAL PATRIOT. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 " I paint him in cliarncter.'" — Shakespeare. 
 
 That a Davenport sliouLl surionsly contem- 
 plate leaving' tlie '' ]\Iot]ier Clmivli,*' as the dev- 
 otees of tlie Anglican cstablislnnent Avere given 
 to calling tlicir l)ranc]i of the real Roman 
 mother, Avas a })ioposition too absurd to Le con- 
 sidered ; and the old Major met his son's first 
 suggestions, wherein this tendency was indi- 
 cated, as tlie mere va}i(tiings of a restless, un- 
 formed hoy. lie lauglicd loudly, guyed Ids son 
 openly, and inquired jocosely which one of the 
 pretty INIetliodist girls liad struck his fancy. 
 
 ''If it turns out to l)e serious, Grif, and you 
 marry her, she Avill, as a matter (^f course, trans- 
 fer lier membership to the ^Mother Church. A 
 true wife always follows her husband in all 
 things. ' Th}- people shall be my people, and 
 tliy God my God,' you know, Grif. Good old 
 saying. Bible truth, my son. But who is the 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 15 
 
 happy girl, you young scamp ? Tliere is rather 
 a paucity of thoroughbreds among the ]\Ietho- 
 dists, as they call this new craze. Don't make 
 that kind of a mistake, my boy, whatever else 
 you do. Better keej) inside the paddock." 
 
 The old Major chuckled, and, turning on his 
 heel, left his son covered with confusion, and 
 with a sense of imj^otent zeal and conviction to 
 which he could not or dared not give voice. 
 
 That this question of a truer,, warmer, more 
 personally stirring religious life did not touch a 
 single responsive chord in the Major's nature, 
 filled the son, anew, with misgivings. At first, 
 these questionings led him to doubt himself, 
 and to wonder if it could, after all, be possible 
 that his own youth, inexperience and provincial- 
 ism might really not lie at the root of his new 
 unrest. He went to the Methodist meetings 
 with a fresh determination to be serenely criti- 
 cal, and not to yield to the onrush of emotion 
 which had grown so strong within him as he 
 had listened, in the past, to the passionate and 
 often ruggedly eloquent appeals of the pioneers 
 of the new faith — or, perhaps, it were better to 
 say, to .the new expression of the old faith. 
 
u; 
 
 J.Y JWOFFK'IAL PATRIOT. 
 
 lie '.;-ave ii[) liis I'xti'a Latin lessons, Aviiicli 
 lad l.ci'ii Lis (Icliylit and llic pi'ide of liis tutor 
 ■•■^ '' ''■■ ■ *' "^•;. tliat lie nii^'lit lla^•e these 
 
 and of liis faiull\- 
 lioui's for till' studv of llie Bilile and tlie U-\v 
 I'ied liy tlio eol[)orteurs or tlie 
 
 otlier l)ooks ran 
 cii'cnit riders, ^^ 
 tlie State 
 
 ]i(_) Averc beginning to ovei'run 
 
 me r^iaie. 
 
 Tlie old ^[:ijor disapproved, hut it was not Lis 
 wav to di^<-nss niattei's with Lis family : and it 
 niav l)e doiiLted, indeed, if tlie }>Iajor grasped 
 tlie sig-nilieaneo and foree of iLe tide wLicL liad 
 
 ine sig-niUeaneo and loree oi ine tn(e wincn Jiad 
 ovei'taken Ins son, as it Ijad rnslied wilL tlie 
 power of a llood o-\'er Lis l)eloved ^'i]■ginia and 
 left in its \\-ake a trenien<lous unrest, and earried 
 Lefore it many of tlie most sineere and foreeful 
 cliaraeters and questions. IJeyi.md a few twit- 
 tings and an oeeasional growl, tlierefore, tlie old 
 Major Lad ignorecl Lis son's gradual witlidrawal 
 from tlie aneieiit forms and fuiietions and tlie 
 faet tliat almost every Sunday morning, of late, 
 Lad found tlie Loy al)sent from llie family pe\A 
 and pi'eseiit two miles up tlie valley at tlie little 
 log meetiugdunise of tlie ?iIetliodists. He was 
 unprepared, tlierefore, to faee tlie fpiestion seri- 
 ously, when finally told by tlie boy's niotber 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 17 
 
 that Gril: had decided tliat on his nineteenth 
 Lirthdaj' he "wouhl be baptized, and that he 
 intended to enter tlie ministry as a circuit rider. 
 
 The joke struck the ^lajor as good above the 
 averao'e. He Luici'hed Iouq- and loud. He 
 chuckled within himself all day. When even- 
 ing came and Griffith api[)eared at the table the 
 jNIajor was too full of mirth and derisioii to con- 
 tent himself with his usual banter. 
 
 " Your mothah inforhms me,'* he began with 
 the ironical touch in his tone held well under 
 the sparkle of humor. " Your mothah inforhms 
 me that to-morrow is your nineteenth birthday, 
 you long-legged young gosling, and that you 
 contemplate celebrating it by transmuting your- 
 self into a Methodist ass wdth leather lungs and 
 the manners, sir, — and the habits, sir, of — of — of 
 a damned Yankee ! "' 
 
 As the Major had halted for Avords and the 
 picture of his son as a circuit rider arose before 
 him as a leality and not as a joke, his ire had 
 gotten the better of his humor. The picture he 
 had conjured up in his own mind of this son of 
 his in the new social relations sure to result from 
 the contemplated change of faith swamped the 
 
18 AX UXOFFiriAL PATRIOT. 
 
 old Major's sense of the absurdity of the 
 situation in a snddon fee'ling of indignation and 
 cliagrin, and thu s(_»und of liis own unusual 
 words did the rest. 
 
 Griililli looked up at his father in hlardc sur- 
 prise. Ilis mothei' said, gently, "• Majah I 
 Majali I " r>ut the old "s(piirL'"s sudden plunge 
 into anger had liini in its grip. lie grew more 
 and more excited as his own ^vords stirred 
 him. 
 
 '' Yes, sir, like a dannied northern taekey that 
 comes down here amongst respectahle peo^jle to 
 talk to niggers, and preach, as they call their 
 ranting, to the white trash that ne\-er owned a 
 nio'o'er in their whole worthless lives, and tell 
 'em about the * unrighteousness " of slavery I 
 Why don't they read their lUbles if they know 
 enough to read? It teaches slavery plain 
 enough — ' Servants obey your masters in all 
 tilings,' and ' If a man sell liis servant," and 
 ' His servant is his money." and a good man}' 
 more ! Why don't thev read their Bibles, 1 
 say, and shout if they Avant to, and attend to 
 their own business ? Xobod}- wants their long 
 noses down here amongst reputable people, 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 19 
 
 sowing seeds of riot and rebellion among the 
 niggers I '" The jNIajor had forgotten his orig- 
 inal point but it came back to him as Grif 
 began to speak. 
 
 " But, sir " 
 
 " But, sir I " he said, rising from his chair in 
 his excitement, " don't ' but, sir,' me ! I'm dis- 
 gusted and ashamed, sir ! Ashamed from the 
 bottom of my hawt, that a son of mine — a Daven- 
 port — could for one moment contemplate this 
 infernal piece of folly I .V circuit rider, indeed ! 
 A damned disturber of niggers ! A man with 
 no traditions ! Shouting and having fits and 
 leading weak-minded women and girls, and 
 w^eaker-minded boys and niggers into unpardon- 
 able, disgraceful antics and calling it religion ! 
 Actually having the effrontery to call it religion ! 
 It's nothing but infernal rascality in half the 
 cases and pitiable insanity in the other half, and 
 if I'd been doing ni}^ duty as a 'squire I'd have 
 taken the whole pestiferous lot up and put one 
 set in jail and the other set in an asylum, long 
 ago ! Look at 'em ! Ducking ' converts,' as they 
 call their dupes, in the creek ! Perfectly dis- 
 graceful, sir ! I forbid you to go about their 
 
20 
 
 .LY rXOFFK 'I. ! L I\ i THIOT. 
 
 luecliiigs aL;-aiii, sir! ^'cs, sii', onix' and for all, 
 
 1 f..i].i.i it :■" 
 
 'i'lic ?.Iai')r 1)!<)ii;_;-lii liis fist down on the ta])k' 
 witli a lian^' tliat sd tlu' lini' rliina j-altling and 
 aildcil {\\r last straw o\' astonislnncnt and dis- 
 coiiiroi-i to till' nnii>ual I'aniih' jai' ; for few in- 
 deed liail e\rr Ix'-'ii the oci-asions npon whicli 
 even a. niihl (h'^'ree of paternal antho;-ity had not 
 l)een so (jniehlv followed hy ready and willing- 
 eoniplianee that an onthi'eak of anything like 
 real temper or anthoritativo er)nunand — other 
 than at or toward the slaves — had Ijeen hardly 
 within ( lrif"s ni''n!ory. 
 
 The hoy arose, tienihling and pale, and leav- 
 ing his iintonehed [)late of elioiee food hefoi'C him 
 tnrned tt» leave the room, 
 
 '••Come hade hci'e, sir! " eonnnanded the old 
 Major. " Take }'onr seat, sir, and eat your 
 sup}>er, sir, and "" 
 
 Mrs. Daver.[»ort hurst into tears. The l)oy 
 hesitated, parted his lips as if to speak, looked 
 at his mother, and with a sudden movemeiit of 
 his hand toward a little l)ook ^^•hieh he always 
 ean-ied these later days in l)is l)reast-[)Oeket, he 
 slepj)ed to his mother's side, There was a great 
 
AX ry OFFICIAL PATRIOT. 21 
 
 lump in liis tliroiit. He ■\^■a.s struggling for 
 master}' of himself but liis voice broke into a 
 sob as lie said : 
 
 ^' ' lie that lovctli father or mother more than 
 ]\Ie is not worthy of ^le. And he that taketh 
 not his cross and followeth after ]Me, is not 
 worth}' of ]\Ie.' "' He kissed his mother's fore- 
 head and [)assed swiftly out of the room. His 
 horse stood at the frout gate waiting the usual 
 evening canter. Griiiith threw his long leg- 
 over the saddle, and said to Jerry, who stood 
 liolding the bridle of liis own horse, ready to 
 follow as was liis custom : " I don't want you 
 to-night, Jerry. Stay at home. Good-night," 
 and rode away into the twilight. 
 
 It would be difficult to say just what Grif- 
 fitlTs plan was. Indeed, it had all been so 
 sudden and so out of the ordinary trend of his 
 life, that there was a numb whirl of excitement, 
 of })ain and of Ijlind impulse too fresh within 
 him to permit of anything like consecutive 
 thought. But, with Grif, as Avitli most of us 
 when the crises of our lives come, fate or chance 
 or conditions have taken the reins to drive us. 
 We are fond of saying — and while we are young 
 
22 AN UNOFFICIAL PATEIOT. 
 
 v,'e bi'lieve — lliat we decided tlnis or tliiis; that 
 we converted that condilioii or tliis disaster 
 into an oppoi'tnnity and foi-med onr lives upon 
 such and su(di a niodeh ^VU of ^\■hich is — 
 as a rule — mere fond self-gratnlation. The 
 fact is, althonL;h it may -wonnd our pride to 
 acknowlcflge it, that we followed the line of 
 least I'csistance (all things l)eing considered, our 
 own natures included) and events did the rest. 
 And so when (irif turned an angle in tlie I'oad, 
 two miles from home, and came suddenl}- u})on 
 the circuit rider, who was to l)a[)tize the ncAV con- 
 verts on the following (hiy, and wlien Brother 
 Prout took it for granted that Grif was on 
 his Avay to the place of gathering in order to be 
 present at the })reliminary meeting, it seemed to 
 Grif that he had originally started from home 
 with that ohject in view. His thoughts began 
 to center around that idea. The pain and 
 shock of the home-quarrel, A\hicli lie had simply 
 started out to ride off, to think over, to prepare 
 to meet on the morrow, gradually faded into a 
 dull hurt, M'hich made the phrases and quota- 
 tions and exhortations of Brother Prout soiuid 
 like friendly and personal utterances of soothing 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATBIOT. 23 
 
 and of paternal advice, and so the two miles 
 stretched into ten and the camp-gronnd was 
 reached, and for GritHth, the die was cast. 
 
1^4 AX UXOFFICIAL PATBIOT. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE lUONY OF FATE. 
 
 It lias l)L'cn wAl said tlial tlif heresies of one 
 generation aie the orthodox standards cif the 
 next ; and it is e({nally true tiiat the great con- 
 vidsive A\-aves of emotion, l)e]ief. patriotic aspi- 
 ration or progressive emtda.tion of the leadeis of 
 thonglit of one age, for whieli tliey are mar- 
 tyred l)y tlie conventionally stnpid majority, 
 become the watchwords and nncontrovertihle 
 l)asis of Ixdief for the succeeding generation of 
 the respectalily unthinking, and furidsh afresh, 
 alas ! the means, the motives and the power for 
 the crueitixion of the })ropliets and thinkers of 
 the new cycle. ^Mediocrity is forever sure that 
 nothing better or loftier is in store. Genius 
 sees eternal progi'ess in perpetual change. 
 
 ]\Iuch of the doings and many of the sayings 
 of the new leligious sect seemed to the people 
 about them full of heresy, dangerous in tend- 
 
AJSr UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 'lb 
 
 ency, and, indeed, Ijlasplienious in its enthusi- 
 asms and its belief in and effort for an intimate 
 personal relationship with a prayer-ans^yering 
 and a praise-loving God. To Grif, Brother 
 Prout's fervor and enthusiasm of expression, his 
 prayers which seemed the friendly communica- 
 tions of one who in deed and in truth walked 
 with his God, instead of the old, pei'functory, 
 formal reading of set phrases arranged for special 
 days, which had to he hunted up in a Ijook and 
 responded to l)y all iu exactly the same words, 
 and with the same utter want of personal feel- 
 ing, to Grif, these fervid, passionate, sincere and 
 simple appeals of the kind old enthusiast seemed 
 like the very acme and climax of a faith which 
 might, indeed, move mountains. 
 
 " Amen ! amen ! " 
 
 " Praise the Lord, O my soul ! " 
 
 "Thanks i.e to Almighty God!" echoed 
 along the banks of the river, the loved Opc|uan, 
 that had been to Grif a friend and companion 
 from his earliest boyhood. He had never stood 
 by its banks without an onrush of feeling that 
 had tended to burst into a song of joy ! From 
 his grandfather's front porch and from the win- 
 
20 .l-V rXOFFICIAL T'ATJIIOT. 
 
 (lows of liis own room at lioiiie lie could see it 
 winding' tlii'oii^li the rocky liills and sti'U^-^'liiir;' 
 for its ri!_;lit to leacli the sea. He had skipped 
 pel)l)les on it and waded across it at low tide, 
 and had stood in a.we at its an^'iy and impetuous 
 .swirl \\hen the spring ]'ains had swolh-n it to o- 
 t(trrent of irresistihle foi'ce. Ir seemed to Grif 
 now that its waters smiliMl at him, an-1 his eves 
 lille(l ^\■ilh teai's tli.d. \^'ei-e of hap[)iness not un- 
 nnxed -with a tender pain and regret — regret for 
 he k]iew not A\'hat. 
 
 '•'• Joy to the Avorld. the I^oi'd has come ! "' 
 rang out with a volume and an impassioned 
 sincerity Avhich giu'e no room hir the eiitical 
 car of the musician nor for tlie carping l)rain of 
 the skeptic, had either heen there to heai-. '• Let 
 earth I'eceive her King I "' The hills in the dis- 
 tance took up the melody, and it seemed to the 
 overwrought ner\"es of the l)oy that nothing so 
 beaiUifnl in all tlie world h.ad ever heen seen or 
 lieanl before. '" Let every heart pre})arc Him 
 room, and lieaven and nature sing I "' Ah, was 
 not lieaven and nature, indeed, singing the most 
 glorious song the earth had ever hr-ard o]' seen 
 when she made this valley? When she built 
 
^.V C/J^^ OFFICIAL PATRIOT. 
 
 these mountains, and threaded that little river 
 over the stones ? Grifiith was lost in an intoxi- 
 cation of soul and sense. He was looking across 
 the valley to the old home. His hands were 
 clenched until the nails were marking the palms, 
 and his voice rang out so clear and true that the 
 neighborhood boys touched each other and mo- 
 tioned toward the young fellow witli almost a 
 sense of envy. Neither cultured musician nor 
 cynic was there, and the softness of the air lent 
 charm to the simple exercises ^^'hich some of the 
 j-ouths had come in a spirit of fun to deride. It 
 was restful to the weary, stimulating to tlie 
 sluggish and soothing to the unhapp}-. They 
 were carried out of their narrow and monoto- 
 nous lives. If Griffith's heart had been sore and 
 in a condition to be soothed by the words and 
 prayers of Father Prout, how much more were 
 his nerves and emotions in that unstrung and 
 vaguely wounded and impressionable state 
 where physical change and reaction is easily- 
 mistaken for religious fervor or exaltation, how 
 much more was he in that state where melody 
 joined to nature's most profligate mood of beauty 
 in scene leads captive the soul ! 
 
28 AX IW OFFICIAL P All: lor. 
 
 During- tlie nu'cting wlili-h liad f(ill(>\vt_'(l liis 
 arrival at tlic eaiii})-L;'r()n!i(l (rril' liad passed 
 tlirdUg'li lliat pliase of |ili\>ical I'lMrlion uliicli 
 meant ti) liim a '• leading (d the spirit "' and. as 
 lie stood now on llie liaidcs of Lis heloveil river 
 ]M)urin'_;' out Ids ^()ung■ lieart in liie li\iiui (if liis 
 1)ovis]i faiiev. lu- no longer doul)le(l tlial lie" liad, 
 indeetl. l»een " ealled "" to lie a eireuil rider and 
 to cast his lot with the new <irder of religious 
 entliusiasts. lie looked now upon his previous 
 doid.its as teni})iations of the devil and put. oiie'O 
 and for all. their whisperings lieliind him and 
 accepted the new lot as heaven and (iod-sent 
 and intendt'd. 
 
 Father Prout gave to all of his converts a 
 ehoiee in the form of their 1)aptism. Leaning, 
 himself, toward immersion, he still lield that 
 spiinkling' was sui'iicient and with a ling'ering 
 memory of his father's liing at " ducking- con- 
 verts in the creek."" Chitlith had determined to 
 be sprinkled : Ijul, as the last echoes of the old 
 hymn died away, lie stepped to the l)ank and 
 indicated that he would be immersed. As he 
 arose from the water his face was radiant, 
 and when lie had removed liis immersion voho. 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 29 
 
 his eyes filled Avith happy tears as his father 
 rode up to the edge of the grounds and held 
 out his arms to the boy. 
 
 " My son," he said tremulously, " ni}^ son, 
 fohrgive me. I have been unhappy all night. I 
 did not realize that I was swearing at ^i/ou until 
 your niothah told me. Come home, my bo}', 
 and your new friends Avill be weleome at Rock 
 Hall. God bless you, my son, come liome, 
 yourmothah is unhappy." 
 
 Mr. Lengthy Patterson, a long-legged, ca- 
 daverous mountaineer who had Avended his 
 way from the distant fastnesses of the high 
 perched log cabin which he called home and 
 wherein he ate and slept when he was not 
 engaged in those same occupations out under 
 the stars where night — during liis hunting 
 and fishing expeditions — chanced to overtake 
 him, had been watching Grif all day. The 
 boy's radiant face the past hour had fasci- 
 nated him. In his absorption he had stepped 
 so close to the old jNIajor as he and Grif 
 stood making ready for the homeward ride, that 
 Mr. Davenport made an instinctive gesture of 
 impatient disapproval which called the naturally 
 
30 AN UNOFFICIAL PATIHOT. 
 
 (It^ferential woodsman Lack to liis normal men- 
 ial state. 
 
 '' It is Lengtliy Patterson, fatlier,*" said Grif- 
 iitli, Avitli Lis evei'-ivady impulse to cover the 
 confusion of the luihukv or ignorant who were 
 intrusive without a kimw k-dye of the fact until 
 a reconaiition of disapproval made .self-con- 
 sciousness [)a.lnfnl. 
 
 ]\Ir. Davenport moved as if t(-) make amends 
 for his previous maimer 1)y an offer to shake 
 hands with tlie mountaineer — an unheard-of 
 proceeding on tlie "Sipiire's part. 
 
 ''Oh, it's Lengthy Patterst)n, is it? I beg 
 your pahrdon. Air. a — Lengthy. I did not rec- 
 ognize you at "' 
 
 The long legs liad moved slowly away. 
 Tie turned around, tilted liis half rindess hat 
 further on to tlie back of his head, in lieu of 
 lifting it, and in a voice as evenly graded to 
 one single note as is that of a Hying loon, re- 
 marked, as he kept on his way: 
 
 "Xo excuse. Say nothin\ Few words com- 
 prehends the whole." 
 
 ''What did that fell(-)W say, Grif ? "' asked 
 his father, as they mounted. 
 
^.Y UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 31 
 
 Griffith laughed rather hysterically. The 
 reaction was coming'. 
 
 " It's just a phrase he has, father. They say 
 he never was known to say anything else ; but 
 I expect that is a joke. He's an honest fellow 
 and a splendid woodsman. lie knows every 
 crack in the mountains, and is a perfect terror 
 to rattlesnakes. Don't you rememljer ? He is 
 the fellow wdio saved the old Randolph house 
 that time it took fire, and got the children out. 
 They say v/lien Mrs. Randolph went away up 
 to his cabin to thard^: liim, he remarked that ' a 
 few words comprehended the Avhole,' and fled 
 the mountain until he was sure she had gone. 
 He appears to be afraid of the English lan- 
 guage and of nothing else on earth." 
 
 There was a long silence. The old Major 
 was turned half out of his saddle, as was a 
 habit of his, to rest himself. The horses were 
 taking their own gait. Presently they turned 
 a curve in the road and Grif suddenly threw 
 his arm across his father's shoulder and leaned 
 far over toward him. " Kiss me, father," he 
 said, and before the moisture had dried out of 
 their eyes and the great lump left their throats, 
 
32 AX UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 
 
 l)()tli lau^'lifd a little in that slia.me-faccd fash- 
 ion iiii'ii liaA'c \\licii, with each othci-. thcv have 
 _viehlc(l Id ilicir natural and tender eiuotion-. 
 I>ut Ixilli hersrs inidei-stoiid and hi'olvi' intu a 
 steadv hijii', and the (diasni was l)rid'_;'ed. 
 
 '^ Dars M,)s" (\v\i\ Dars Mes" (ii'it an" ol - 
 Mos' ! "" e\elaiined Jeirv as he saw" tlie two 
 horsemen in tlie dislanee. " I )e\- eoniin", }A\ -" 
 Sallie, de\- is dal I La\\-s\- nic. Mis" Sallie. dev 
 want no uste |\t yo' ter l)e' sheered dat a, way 
 "hout ?kIos" ( iril'. He's des dal slaidy dat \-o" e"d 
 ealny waltah on he haid. let vv "lo;ie S(dini ain't 
 gwine ter let no trouble eonii; tei' Mos" (Irif. 
 l>ut I dus "low (hit "e oULj'hter a tuck (lis rhile 
 erlony wid "iin ter look arter "ini. dough. l);it"s 
 ;i fack. 1 knows dat. Run inter de kiteheu, 
 Idppy Jane, an" tell yo" maw dat I\Ios" (rrif an' 
 (tie ]\Ios" niose heah, an" she hotter i^'it deni dar 
 ehiekeu fixins all raidv (juiek as ehhrr she kin. 
 Dey g'Avinc ter bo hongry, sho's yo" hohu, dey 
 is dat.'' 
 
 Lijtpy Jano S[)od away on her errand with 
 that degree of enthusiasm Avhieli sprang from a 
 consciousness of hearing a Avelcome message 
 to expectant listeners, when suddenly, as she 
 
^l.V UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 33 
 
 passed a group of idle compeers, one of the 
 boys flung u^jou her hjwer lip, where it lodged 
 and dangled in squirming response to her every 
 motion, a long yellow apple peeling. She did 
 not jiause in her onward course, hut called 
 hack in belligerent tones at the offender : 
 
 '•'• I des gwine ter lef dat erlone dar, now, an' 
 show hit ter ]\Ios' Grif ! I is dat ! You nasty 
 little • nigger ! " and she reappeared, after giv- 
 ing her message in the kitchen, with the pen- 
 dant peel still reposing upon the superfluous 
 portion of the feature to which she was in- 
 debted for her name. 
 3 
 
;j4 ax ryOFFTCTAL PATH TOT. 
 
 i'UAVTVAl IV. 
 
 TiiK i;i:v. r;r;iFrTTir r>Avi:Ni'nirr. 
 
 So (lesiral)le :i oaiulidate Avas sprrdilv or- 
 (laiiu'il, and HrDtlier I'rnut liiiiiSL'ir rdde Avitli 
 lliu l)<)y on liis two lii.>t roiiud.s of tlic not far- 
 distant cii'cnit A\lik'li \\';;s soon to l)e placLMJ in 
 cdiarq'i' of tliis vonlli avIio liad so snddeidy iak(,'n 
 on tlie dnties, rcsponsiljilitirs and desires of a 
 man. Grif",s tciniierainunt lia<l alwa\'s Jk'vw so 
 merry and fi'ank and full tif tlic jovfnl side of 
 life lliat he found himself at once ill at ease and 
 liampered hy the feeling' that he must curh his 
 spirits. ] brother Prout, whose own nature was 
 only less buoyant, patted Tirif 0:1 the l)a(dv and 
 advised acj'ainst the ehange ^Ahiidi he elearl}- 
 saw the l)(»y AA'as trying to eompass. 
 
 ''Doift grow dull. Brother Davenport,** he 
 said one day, as they Avere riding toward the 
 home of one of their members to make a 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 35 
 
 pastoral visit. " Don't grow dull and old Ije- 
 fore 3'our time. Eeligion is joy, not gloom. 
 Your message to these people is happiness. 
 Let your bright young face and voice bear tes- 
 timony for the Lord, and prove to them that all 
 His ways are ways of pleasantness, and all His 
 paths are paths of peace. Let your neighbors 
 see that in forsaking your old life you have not 
 lost tlie best and most glori()Us jiart of it. You 
 take that with you in addition to the rest. 
 Laugh with them tliat laugh, and weep with 
 them that weep. Lm an old man, now, and I 
 never did have your spirits ; but we need just 
 that in our labors, my son. Don't allow your- 
 self to grow dull. AVitli your nature 3'ou will 
 win and not drive souls to the Lord." 
 
 Such advice cheered the l)oy and made him 
 feel less strongly the great change in his life. 
 The lono- hours of riding his fine horse over the 
 roads and bj'-paths of his beloved and beautiful 
 valley ; the talks with friends or strangers 
 who were never strangers for long, since mutual 
 acquaintance or intermarriage had made of the 
 whole state almost one family, proved attractive 
 and interestino- to him. He found in this new 
 
30 AN UNOFFICIAL PATIUOT. 
 
 work a real and fri'sli ]ia|)]iiiicss. Fordine' 
 swollt'U sti-caiiis, scarcliiiiL;' for dltseure iiKnint- 
 aiii passes, I'idiiiy aloin' or with a cliaiicf com- 
 panion tlirou^li ('xtc'nsi^■(' .stretrlK's of woodland, 
 lisleniiiL;- to, and ol'len ans\\-criiiL;' llio notes of 
 birds or llic cry of some animal, were congenial 
 occU])alions to tlic A'ouiig parson, and his fo]'m 
 I'oundcd ont and liis face gi'adiially seltle(l into 
 mature hnl gentle and kindly lines, and it was 
 now grown to lie liis iinariaMe rule to compose 
 liis seinions as he lode. He Jie\a'r wrote them. 
 Some text A\()uld lix itself in his mind as lie 
 read liis little hlack Testament inghl or morn- 
 ing-, and Tip()n that text he would build a 
 simple and kindlv tallc A\hich reaidied and 
 touched his handful of listcnei's as no elah)ora- 
 tiou of rhetori{_' could have done. 
 
 Some days he would ride along for miles, 
 humming or singing a single tune, ^diile a train 
 of tliought fo]' his next sermon was building 
 itself up in his mind. Selim, the line young 
 sorrel, knew (piile well Mhat to do, and fell 
 into a walk or a gentle canter, according to the 
 briskness or volume of the notes that rose over liis 
 back. If '' How-tedious-and-tasteless-the-liours, 
 
AX UNOFFICIAL rAIRIOT. 
 
 \ylien-Je.sus-no-lo]icrer-I-see,"' trailed out softly, 
 witli lono' and undevised breaks in the eontinu- 
 ity of sound and sense, Selini talked demurely, 
 and saw no gliosts or interesting things whatso- 
 ever in woods or stream or distant valley. But 
 wlien '' Joy to the world ! The Lord has 
 come ! "' rang out, continuous and clear, Selim 
 knew that he might even shy at a stone, and 
 make believe a set state of terror at sight of a 
 familiar old post or a startled groundhog ; or 
 that if he were to Ijreak into an unexpected 
 gallop, no harm would l)e done, and that he 
 would be pretty sure of some playful remarks 
 and a bit of teasing from the rider, whose 
 sermon, Selim knew full Avell, Avas finished. 
 But so long as " Jo}^ to the mm-mmmm-m- 
 
 mnnnm-mnnn Let earth nnnmm — mmmmm- 
 
 mmmher King," greeted his ears, Selim knew 
 that the responsibility of ford or path rested 
 with him, and many a ford did Selim take 
 before his rider realized that he had come to it. 
 If swimming were necessary, Selim struck out 
 with a powerful stroke, and came up on the 
 other bank with a proud stamp of his feet and a 
 whinny that bid for the recognition of his 
 
i]9, A\ UXOFFICTAL TWTHIOT. 
 
 prowess that lie knew was sui-e in eome to 
 liim. 
 
 •■' Whoa, old i\_'llo\A- I Slop and get your 
 wind ! Steady ! That ^\■as a prcttv stiff eur- 
 ix'ut, wasn't it ? There, take a iiih])le! Been 
 sonic p]-t'ttv lieaA-y rains aionnd here, haven't 
 theie ? lint what do you and I care al)Out rains 
 and curivnts ? Wlioa, there, you rascal, keep 
 your nose oif my sleeve! ( ), you will, will 
 you? Well, thei'C, there, there, I've wi})ed it 
 all off as o'ood as evei'. Tdi-a-fs rin'ht ; inp off 
 sonu^ of these fresh hnds. Here, let's take our 
 hit out. Tastes hetter, doesn't it ? (_)h, you will, 
 will yon, old wet nose ? Ila I ha I ha.! Selini, 
 j-ou know more than most folks, ^-ou old hum- 
 l)ug ! " 
 
 If his master sat down and hecame ahsorhed 
 in thought, (U- in his little black book, Selim 
 would brc^wse about for an houi' ; bnt at 
 the first note of a hynni the faithful fellow 
 came to have his bridle ivplaced, and was ready 
 for a gallop or a walk, as his rider should indi- 
 cate. 
 
 At lirst the young circuit rider would lake a 
 swollen ford, when a safer one could have been 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 39 
 
 found a mile or two farther on, or he would 
 ride miles out of his way to make a pass in the 
 mountains, Avhen, had he known the faet, an 
 obscure but safe one was near at liand. But, as 
 the years passed by, both Selim and his master 
 would have scorned a guide, and, night or day, 
 the country became to them like the fields of 
 one's own estate, so familiar were they with it 
 all. In this pass was a great nesting place, 
 where, year after year, the circuit rider talked 
 aloud to the birds, and fancied that they knew 
 him. :\Iany a friendly note of reply to his 
 whi;5tle or call gained a hearty laugh. 
 
 '^Feel jokey to-day, do you, you ridiculous 
 Bob White ? Wish I could translate that into 
 English. Know it was a good joke from the 
 twist you gave it, Init I'm no linguist. Youll 
 have to excuse me if I don't reply intelli- 
 gently," he would call out to some unusually 
 individualized note, and Selim would whisk his 
 tail in utter disapproval of a man who would so 
 foolishly converse with birds— such little insig- 
 nificant things as they were— when here was a 
 full-grown, blooded horse, right under his nose ! 
 The pride and arrogance of species is great 
 
40 ^.V UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 
 
 within lis all — aiul Selini luul associated much 
 with man. 
 
 '^ Hello: AVhere's that i^Teat-gTaiidfatlier of 
 yours that I sa^\• here tlie last time we crossed 
 your ford'.'"" (rriflith remaihi'(l aloud to a frisky 
 little trout, as it ^^"lliskrll pasi S^'liui's feet. 
 '"Hope nol)0(lv"s caught him. (iive him my 
 regards wliru you get home." 
 
 Just tlu-'U Selim's fi-et struck the liauk. an(h 
 as he scramhlcd u[), he shied a littlt'. and his 
 master i-eeoyui/.ed tlie long legs l)cfoi'e him as 
 those of the mountaineer in homespun trousers 
 and hickorv shirt, who liad N'eX(.'d the old Major 
 at the haptizing in the ()ji(|uan that now seemed 
 so long ago. 
 
 '• (lood-niorning- "" l)egau the young' min- 
 ister, A\hen Lcngtliy"s '^\\\\ A\-ent suddenly to 
 Ills shouldci', thei'e was a Hash, a ri'[)ort, Selim 
 sprang to one si<le, and the mountaineer pidceil 
 with his gnui where tlie horse had stood. 
 '■• Look down. Sav nothin". Few words com- 
 prehend i\\ M-hoh? :"" he remai'ked to the aston- 
 ished circuit I'idcr, as he held up on the end of 
 liis gun a still Mi'ilhing', ugly, dying snake, 
 which had been coiled to spring. He was too 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 41 
 
 confused, or too iiK'ntall}- einlnyouic to do more 
 than grin in g-ratitied silence at the thanks and 
 compliments from the young- preacher ; for it was 
 somewhat infrequently that Lengthy Avas ad- 
 dressed hy one of Grifhth's type, and the very 
 sincerity of his evident admiration for the cir- 
 cuit rider still farther handicapped his already 
 abnormally deveh^ped awkwardness of manner. 
 It is possible that the vocabulary of this swarthy 
 mountaineer (wliose six feet and seven inches 
 of bone and sinew ha<l fixed upon him the only 
 name that Pastor Davenport had ever heard 
 applied to liim), it is possible, I say, that his 
 vocabulary may have been fuller than it Avas 
 generally supposed to be. Among his fellows 
 it is just possible that he may have ventured 
 upon language with more freedom ; but certain 
 it is that when Lengthy was in the presence of 
 what he was pleased to call " quality," the lim- 
 itations were painfully apparent, and there was 
 a legend — which appeared to liave as solid a 
 basis as belongs to most — -that whatever slight 
 variations he might venture upon as an opening 
 remark, the finale, if one may so express it, was 
 sure to be the same. • 
 
42 .-l.V UXOFFK'IAL I'ATUIOT. 
 
 ]\lr. DaviMiport asked after liis liealtli, tliat of 
 liis family, tlie iieiylilioi-liDoil in general and 
 linally, imalile to exti'ael anN'lliinL;' liexdiiil a nod 
 or a .single M'ord from tlie giant wlio had pitched 
 tjie still s(|nirniing I'attlesnake from the end 
 of his gun into the ri\('i-. (irii'lith took another 
 taek. 
 
 '' liiver seems to he unusualh' high. Selim 
 had all he conld do. didn't von, old fellow? 
 Been having a, fi'esliet liere. haven't ^"ou ? 
 
 LeMigthy pointe<l with liis gun, to the I'em- 
 iiants of a rail fenee, now liigh on the liaidc. in 
 the top rails of which ehing half-diy ^\"eeds and 
 river refuse. 
 
 "Look there. Yaw vords eompreheJid tli' 
 ■wlnde."' 
 
 (tririith siuiled, gave up the task of convers- 
 ing A\'ith his admirer, shook the hridle on Selim"s 
 neck and with a, ( hecry '• Well, Tm ghid to have 
 met you. (iood-hye," I'ode on towai'd the 
 village where he A^as soon to begin his lii'st year's 
 pastorate as a '•located"* preacher. As he rode 
 along he almost regretted the change. These 
 liad l)een liappv vears to the simplediearted, hut 
 ardent young fellow ; Init he was consoled when 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATBIOT. 43 
 
 he saw before liim in mental vision the 
 home in which pretty, bhiek-eyed Katharine 
 LeRoy Avas to preside — for tlie young cir- 
 cuit rider liad found Ids fate and, alas ! it 
 had not been inside the Episcopal paddock 
 nor even in the Methodist fold — such pranks 
 does Fate play Avith us, such liberties does 
 Cupid take, even with the hearts of those 
 wdiose mission it is to deal Avith other things ! 
 Very early in the new life Griflith had sta^'ed 
 one night at the li(»spitable home of Katherine's 
 father. In spite of all. his heart was lonely and 
 his face less bright than in the old days. ]\Iiss 
 Katherine saw. Miss Katherine was kind — and 
 Miss Katherine's sweet face traveled many a 
 mile with the young preacher after he, as Selim 
 was well aware, should have been humming a 
 hymn and composing that sermon for the mor- 
 row. But Selim was discreet ; and when he 
 shook his head or whinnied or changed his gait 
 and Griftith did not heed, Selim plodded de- 
 murely on and waited. But as the montlis had 
 gone by and Selim had carried the young 
 master up the same lane a few times and had 
 observed the same silent abstraction after each 
 
44 AN Uy OFFICIAL PATRIOT. 
 
 visit, he had grown to know veiy ayoII indeed 
 tliat this was a marked house and that (irilhth 
 liked t(_) go there. So it came to pass that after 
 the dark eyes liad travchMl Avilli tlie young 
 }ireaeher and peered over ]iis sliouhh'r into his 
 'J'estament and intcrlVred sadly with the trend 
 of liis tlioughls onsaered things, it had grown to 
 he veiy eertain to Gril'lith that something would 
 liave to he done. Then it was that for the hrst 
 time he thought liow little he had to offer. 
 Not even a home ! Not even liisown eompanion- 
 slii[)I For all these six years he liad traveled 
 his different tai-euits and sle})t ^here he found 
 himself as night eame on. and })reaehed Iiere or 
 there as he liail keen dii'eeled. His home had 
 been literally in liis saddle, and his salary had 
 been too insigniheant to mention. The old 
 INhijor, who to a degree, liad heeome I'econeiled 
 to the new order of things, had at lirst insisted 
 that Jerry follow and care for the young- 
 master; hut Griflith had argued that it ill be- 
 came one who had taken such a ste}) to take 
 with liim a Ijod}' servant, and it had almost 
 broken Jerry's lieart to l)e compelled to stay at 
 the old home-place and allow young Mos' Grif 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATE 10 T. 45 
 
 to saddle aiid feed Seliin, if need be, and eare 
 for and l)rusli liis own elotlies. This latter liad, 
 indeed, led to the loss of most of his limited 
 wardrobe, for he had left behind him, at the 
 house of some '' member" a })ieee of elothing or 
 some toilet artiele very often, at the lirst ; btit 
 as it never failed to he returned to liim on his 
 next round, the leather saddle-bags retained 
 about the same proportions from month to 
 month, replenished as they were by his mother 
 and Jerry on his frequent visits home. 
 
 But it was when the thought of a wife and a 
 home of his own first came to Griffitli that the 
 life of a circuit rider grew less attractive and 
 he wondered if it would be right to ask to be 
 " located " or " stationed " as some of the married 
 men were. To be sure they must change their 
 " station "' year by year and so tear up the little 
 roots they could strike in so brief a period, but 
 at least it gave something like a home and a 
 " charge " to the preacher, and he — not his 
 family — was the sole subject of solicitude and 
 consideration to the authorities who governed 
 his movements. Had not the Lord said to those 
 whom He sent forth to preach that they must go 
 
46 
 
 .1 .Y UXOFFIf ■!. 1 L I\ 1 TIUO T. 
 
 fmin placr to jiluco Ifavln'.;' l)(']iiii(l all family 
 tics'/ Had iiol He sn lived? Had not Paul 
 and Tiniolliy and tiic twelve? Later on had it 
 not been so AN'itli tlie iiiaiiv until \\ealt]i and 
 lo\'e of ease and tin' thing's of this \\'orld uii- 
 dei'niine(| the true failli ? 
 
 l>ul huniau ualure is strong-, and all fadtlis in 
 the past have — as all in the future will eoiitintie 
 to do — aeeonnnodate<l themselves to the human 
 needs and deniaiids of tho>e mIio sustain the the- 
 oi-y as iid'allil)le. immutaMe. unehanL;e;ihle and 
 unehan^'inL;' : hut niodii'y it to lit the times, the 
 natures and the eondiiioiis in \\hieh thev strike 
 root. If Moha.inmed will not yo to the mount- 
 ain, the niouidain \v\\\ eonie to ^lohanniied. 
 
 So when the youn^' eireiiil riiler had stop[)ed 
 a^'aiii, as had L;i'o\\'n to he his hahii, with the 
 himily of Katherine L(dJo\-. and \\"hen she. with 
 (juaint eo(|uetry, hail met his e(|ual!y (|naint 
 courtship hv linallv aeceptiiiL;' him on eondilion 
 that he "take a eharye "" he had aske(l the })re- 
 sidiny elder t() loeate him as a married man for 
 the next year since he was ahout to marry. 
 IJrother Prout had approved, and the matter had 
 been settled with little diflicttlty. 
 
.4.Y UNOFFICIAL PATUIOr. 47 
 
 The courtship was unique. The young par- 
 son had grown to l)e so great a favorite where- 
 ever lie went tliat his cheerfulness, his kindly, 
 simple and sincere nature insured him hearty 
 welcome even outside of his own flock. His 
 superior birth and breeding made him a marked 
 man within his denomination. ]Many were the 
 speculations as to which rosy-cheeked Methodist 
 girl he would hud nearest his ideal, and jokes 
 were many at the expense of this or that one if 
 he but stopped twice at her father's house. 
 
 At last it became i)lain that in one neighbor- 
 hood he preferred to stay overnight with the 
 family of Bernard LeRoy, a staunch and un- 
 compromising Presbyterian, and it did not 
 take long for others to discover why ; but so 
 sure was ]Mr. LcRoy, himself, that it was to his 
 own superiority to his neighbors that the visits 
 were due, that the times when a few words 
 alone Avith Miss Katherine were possible were 
 few indeed. The large, readv, hearty hospi- 
 tality of the time and of Virginia were ex- 
 emplified in this household. All welcomed 
 him. Old, young, white and black alike ; and 
 the wide porch or great rooms aud halls gave 
 
48 
 
 AX ryoFFK'lAL J'ATIUOT. 
 
 space and licai'ly iiivhalioii to family and 
 lu'i^ldioi'ly n'alliLM'iii^'s. So it came al)()ut that 
 at lasi (ii'iliilli felt tlial Ikj eoidd wait no 
 IdiiL^'er. !!e must Iviiow Iiis fate. 'Idie deiiniri' 
 Katliei'ine liad reduced liim in a mere spiiil of 
 uiii'est in spile (if till' presence (if (itliei's, and 
 Mliile all sat talking of ci-ii[i^. pidilics, r(diL;;i(iii, 
 iiei'_;lili(ii'li(iiMl ]ia[i]ieinnL;'s. rains, swollen streams 
 and tlie ]'eeent freaks of liu'liiinne-, tlie ^"oiing 
 nnnister touk from Ids po(d^et tlie little khudv 
 Testament and di'ew a line around tlie woids, 
 " Wilt tliou n'o with this man'/"" and handiuL;' it 
 to Miss Katherine he asked: •" \A'ill yt)ti read 
 and answer that (jiiestioii for me, ^ILss Kath- 
 erine?'" Their eyes met. and althoue'h fxrif- 
 iitli rettirned to his seat and essa\'e(l to go on 
 with the e(.)n\'ersation M'ith her father, they Loth 
 understood. 
 
 Her dark eyes ran over the words, her eolor 
 rose and fidl. hut, eontrarv to the hope of the 
 young })reaeher, she did not mark and return the 
 reply. She earelessly turnt'd the leaves iind his 
 heart sank. He gave ahstraeted replies to her 
 father and twiee failed to hear what was said, 
 and still Miss Katherine turned the leaves. At 
 
Ay Uy OFFICIAL rATRIOT. 49 
 
 last he believed that she had either not under- 
 stood or that she did not intend to reply, and 
 with a sinking heart he rose to go. Selini had 
 been put away. The circuit rider was always 
 expected to stay overnight, lie explained in 
 a vague way that this time it would be best for 
 him to o'o to a Methodist neio-hbor's two miles 
 farther on. Was it that reply which decided dark- 
 eyed Katlierine not to farther tease her lover ? 
 Did she fear the wiles of the plump, demure 
 girl in the quaint, unribboned bonnet who looked 
 such open admiration into the eyes of the young- 
 preacher. However that may be, certain it is 
 that at this juncture and under cover of the 
 general movement to send for the guest's horse, 
 Miss Katlierine took from her belt a pansy and 
 putting it between the pages to mark where she 
 had drawn a line, she gave the little book back 
 to its owner. He saw the movement and 
 glanced within : " Why have I found grace in 
 thine eyes that thou shouldst take knowledge 
 of me — seeinof I am a stranger ? " He read and 
 his heart leaped. " A stranger ! " She was not 
 of his fold I It was that she thought of I He 
 
 looked at her and both undej'stood. He could 
 4 
 
50 AN Uy OFFICIAL PATI.'IOT. 
 
 ride away now and l)otli Avonld Ix- content, even 
 thongli lie ^^•e^e under tlie rout" with the (|iiaiiit 
 little Methodist honiiet. 
 
 As they moved towai'd the door the two 
 young' people managed to ])ass oiit alone and 
 (Trit'lith took liei' in his arms for one biicf in- 
 stant and kissed lu'r li[)s. 
 
 "Thank (Jodl" he vhispured. *•' 'Jdiank 
 God, for this last and holiest l)lessing ! I love 
 you next to my Saviour, Ivatherine. Sometimes 
 I pray it may not l)e moi'c than I love Ilini/' 
 
 She laughed, a soi't little rip}»le. ami drew 
 baek just as her father appeared at the door. 
 
 " I shall not piay that,"" she saitl, as he 
 mounted, and the young preacher rode away 
 into the darkness with Jio disa})proval of the 
 heresy upon his radiant face. Selim knew that 
 this was a strange proceeding — this late de- 
 parture — and he shook his head so violently 
 that the buckles of his bridle rattled. The 
 young minister made no sign, l)ut when, a little 
 farther on, there suddenly arose over his Ijack, 
 the notes of a long-forgotten song, Selim cast 
 one eye backward and started at the break-ueck 
 pace of his youth. 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 51 
 
 " The moon is lioaming brightly, love, 
 Te tuni te tuni tc te! 
 A trrsty crew is -waiting, love, 
 Away, away with me!" 
 
 Selini's surprise knew no Ijounds. He liad 
 not heard that song sinee before the day his 
 youiig master went, for some strange reason, 
 into the ()[)quan river, Avith Brother Prout. 
 Something unusual had ha[)pened, that was very 
 clear. Something that carried the young 
 preacher quite out of himself and into a world 
 where sermons and hynnis were not ; and, 
 although the song was gay, Selim felt a tug at 
 his bridle that meant a slower pace. 
 
 '•'■ Yea ! old fellow, y-e-a I " Selim was sur- 
 prised again. He stopped short. 
 
 " G'ap ! g'lang ! 
 
 " Far o'er the deep, o'er the deep, o'er the d-e-e-e-p, 
 Far o'er the deep blue sea ! 
 
 Far o'er the deep, o'er the deep, o'er the d-a-e-e-p, 
 Far o'er the deep blue sea ! 
 
 Oh, come and share a sailor's heart— far o'er the deep 
 blue sea ! " 
 
 Perhaps Selim was not exactly scandalized, 
 but he felt that it would not be judicious to 
 reach the home of the quaint jMethodist bonnet 
 too prematurely. And Selim walked. 
 
52 
 
 AX I'XOFVKIAL rATIUOT. 
 
 (IIAV'VVAI V. 
 
 A MAN s cnxsrilLXCi:. 
 
 TU'T ;ill tliis was aw:i\" had; in the years ^\•hell 
 Y(»u and i wci-c \\n{ l)iirn, ]i\v friend, and. tliere- 
 I'ore. llie only i-ea-(in I tell \ oil altoul it or 
 ex[)eet you to he iiiieresle(I in siieli siin[i]e and 
 far-olT hives is that you nia,\- know sonietliine- of 
 tlic early hal)its and surroiindinn's of the man 
 \'\'ho. I l)eg'an liy warnini;' you, Ijeeanie a law- 
 breaker; for, I hold it to he a sidf-evident fact 
 that liowever true it is that heredity stamps the 
 character with its liasie jirinciples and (|ualitics, 
 it is never A\-iso to forget that it is to environ- 
 ment, circumstance and education that we 
 owe its nioditieations and the (hreetion of its 
 iinal develo[iment. l)Ut now that 3-ou Avill he 
 a])le to })icture to yourself tlie man as he then 
 was, and his surroundings and conditions, I 
 A\-ill tell A'ou as directly as I can the story r)I' 
 his offense ; hut iirst I nuist explain that \y]:v]\ 
 
AX UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 
 
 his coming marriag'O to ]\Iiss Katherine LeRoy 
 Avas annoanrud at liis home, the ohl ]\Iajor 
 objected again, but this time more miklly, to 
 the choice his son had made. 
 
 •■' Her people are good, wholesome, respect- 
 a1)le folks, my son,"* he said ; '^ but— but, Grif, 
 why couldn't you have found a girl of — well, 
 one of tlie families you were brought up ^vith. 
 JMind, boy, Vm not saying anything against 
 Miss Katherine. I've heard— and I don't douljt 
 it — that she is a uiighty nice sort of a girl ; 
 but " 
 
 The ]Major had grown milder in his methods 
 with his son, and he hesitated to speak words 
 which might cause pain hereafter. 
 
 "Of course, Grif," he went, on after an 
 awkward pause, "of course, if you love each 
 other— and— and — well, if the thing is set- 
 tled, I have only to congratulate you, and to 
 say that I am truly glad to have you settle 
 clown, so I'll be able to know where you 
 are. It's deucedly disagreeal;)le not to know 
 from week to week where to put a finger on 
 you — such a tacky sort of shifty sensation 
 about it. I can know now at least a year at 
 
5-4 .LV rXOFFlClAL PATUIOT. 
 
 a tinu'. rerlVctly I'idicnlons cuslinn it is to 
 ino\c ;i pivaclirr just wlirii he gets accjuaiutf d 
 willi tlic |)r(i|il('. iiiid tlicy lK'L;iii to tiaist liim I 
 Ini'cnia] lialiit I IM as soon li\-c on a Ixtat and 
 just anchor iroui tiinr to time in an(UliiT sticaui 
 and call it lionic — and, — nnd li\inL;'. Fvr come 
 to ]'cs[icct ^oul■ sincciiU'. (ill I', liul I can"t ix-- 
 spc'C't llic sense of a dciiouiinat ion tliat lias no 
 idea of the a1),-olutc value of stabilit v. of con- 
 tinuity of association. I)et\veen its pastor and its 
 people. A\diy, jir^t lodk a.t tlie tliin^' ! It up- 
 I'Oots tlie liest sentiments in l)otli. aiul makes a 
 A\andei'ei' of i>iie wlio oUL;lit to be. ii(_)t oidv l>v 
 precept. l)Ut liy t'xample. stable and I'aitliful and 
 eoutinuously true to those \\ ho hxilc ii[) to him. 
 Why, a. seaiup vwn pose for a, year or two as a 
 saint : but it takes real value to live a lifetime 
 in a eommtmity and l)e au ins})iration and a 
 guide to your mendjers. Then just look at it I 
 Xol)odv M"lio lias auy self-respe(;t is going to 
 talk of his inner life to a stranger I AVe are all 
 alike in that. We })Ose and pretend and kee[) 
 our shutters up, mentally and morally. Avith a 
 new-comer. Gad I I can't see the wisdom nor 
 tlie sense of any such rules." 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 55 
 
 "■ Has its good [)oints, father," said Grif, 
 whoso quiet ehuekle from time to time had 
 stirred the ^Nlajor to unusual earnestness. He 
 wanted to get at his son's real views on the 
 subject. " Has some redeeming qualities, after 
 all, father, (luite aside from the Bible teaching 
 ui)(>n which the leaders of our chureh l)ase it. 
 There are men — even ministers, I'm afraid, 
 whom one enjoys' much better when they are 
 on another circuit ; and I may as well confess 
 to you that there are circuits a man enjoys a 
 good deal better w hen he's not on them — after 
 he has left." 
 
 "Some of the old boy in you yet, Grif," 
 laughed the ]Major, slapping his son on the back. 
 " Better not say that to Father Front, ov he will 
 keep you on one of that kind for discipline." 
 
 Jerry was filled with delight when told of 
 the coming marriage of Mos' Grif. Jerry's own 
 wife had long since presented him with twins, 
 and it was his delight to show off the antics of 
 these small ebony creatures to Griffith when- 
 ever he was at home. It was at first arranged 
 that this family only should go to form the 
 new household. 
 
56 AN UXOFFICIAL I'ATIIIOT. 
 
 The iiiutterings Ixini in a diffeieiit cliiiu' and 
 under olliei' eonditinns liad now reaelied projioi- 
 tions -wliicli could not lie wliolly ignored, hi 
 many a long- ride over llic niouniain or \allev 
 paths in tlie past few years liad ( iril'lilli [londered 
 llie (piestioii. and lie liad deliintelv decided in liis 
 own ndnd that for one wlio had cast liis hit with 
 the itineraid Metliodist (dergy, at least, the 
 ownership of slaves was wrong'. He ■\\"ould 
 never I)Uv nor sell a human licing. Upon that 
 point his mind was clearly and uiialteiahlv made 
 up. 15ut Jerry and his i'amih' Avere to he a 
 part of the new household a\ liile yet they 
 I'emained. as l)efore. the old Ahijor"s pi'operty. 
 'J'o this (irillith had consented readilv, for Miss 
 Katherine must have an ellicient cook and 
 Jerry Avould he of inlinite use. Grillith had 
 di'awn a jiicture of a small house in the village 
 ill which this heautiful dream of his was to he 
 realized : lint, as the time drew near, the old 
 ^lajor developed his own plans with such skill 
 as to carry his point. 
 
 When the house was to ])C looked for he 
 said : '■'■ See here, (Irif. you are a good 
 deal younger than I am, and some of the 
 
^l.Y UNOFFICIAL PArUIOT. 57 
 
 older slaves are pretty hard to manage. 'J'liey 
 caii"t work a grt-at deal, and they get into 
 misehief one way and another. Look at that 
 set over in the end ealjin — tliey always did 
 like you best — and sinee you have 1)een gone so 
 much they are a gO(»d deal of tiouble to me. 
 They've got to be cared for somehow. I ^^ ish 
 you'd take them. They can do a lot of useful 
 things if they are away from the otliers, and you 
 can P'et twice as mucli ^^'ork out of them as I 
 can. They are stul)l)oi'n with me, and it wears 
 my soul out to deal witli 'em. I've needed 
 your help a good many times since you've been 
 awa}', but I did not like to say much. I tliink, 
 now you are going to settle dovrn, that you 
 ought to think of j'our father's needs a little, 
 too." 
 
 Grif winced. He recalled that he had 
 always pushed liis father's problem aside in 
 liis thoughts when he had settled or solved liis 
 own. He realized how unfair that was He 
 felt the force of the Major's complaint. 
 
 " Of course, I'll do anything I can, father, 
 to help you ; but I can't take a lot of negroes to 
 a villao-e and '' 
 
AX rx OFFICIAL PATRIOT. 
 
 '•' Tli;ifs jiLst it I Just it, (_'x;i('tly ! Of course 
 you t*;urt. 1 (li(lu"l iulrml in ;isk nni just vet, 
 ])ut I waul you to j^iw u[) tliat toolisli idea 
 of takiuL;' Kallicriiie l(» town {n \[yr. She cau"t 
 stand it. ^ ou aix' asking- eiiouyli of a. A\'oinau, 
 tiod Isuow's, to ask iicr to }»ut up \\illi \-our sort 
 of life auyliow, k-i ak)iie askiiii.;' a L;ii-1 that lias 
 ])('('M I'csjiccialily l'roUL;lit u.j) on a }>laiilaliou to 
 give all tliat up and go to a. uiiseral)le little 
 village. It is not decent to live tliat Mav ! 
 Coopi'il up \\\{]i a lot of oilier folks in a siring 
 of nari'ow streets I ]"d a. good deal rallier go to 
 jaal and done \\illi it. Xow, \\lial I ^vanl and 
 what I need you to do. is to take that other 
 plantation— tlie one do^\-n on the la^cr — \"our 
 graudlalher's place — and take some of the 
 hands down there and you can let them woi'k 
 the place. J low in the ]iame of thunder do ^"ou 
 suppose you and Ivalherine ai'e going to live on 
 your I'idiculous salary ? Sadary ! It isn't enough 
 to dignify by the name of wages — let alone 
 salaiy ! Y' can't live on it t(.) save vour lives. 
 Kalhc]-ine caii't "" 
 
 '' I'.ut, father "" 
 
 '•' That farm down there is plenty ueai' enough 
 
^l.V VyOFFICIAL PATUIOT. 59 
 
 to town for you to ride in every single day if you 
 want to and — look here, l)oy, don't you think 
 you owe a little something to your father ? I'm 
 getting old. You don't begin to realize how 
 hard it is on me to meet all these difficulties 
 that other men's sons help them with." 
 
 The Major had struck that cliord with full 
 realization of its proljable effect, and he watched 
 with keen relish the troubled and shamed look 
 on the face before him. Griffith made a move- 
 ment to speak, but the jMajor checked him with 
 a wave of the hand. 
 
 " That farm is just going to Avreck and ruin, 
 and I haven't the strength to attend to tliat 
 and this both. Besides, these negroes have got 
 to be looked after better. Pete is o-rowino- more 
 and more sullen every year, and Lippy Jane's 
 temper is getting to be a holy terror. She and 
 Pete nearly kill each other at times. They had 
 a three-cornered light with Bradley's mulatto, 
 Ned, the other day, and nearly disaljled him. 
 Bradley complained, of course. Kow, just 
 suppose Xed dies and Bradley sues me ? It 
 seems to me it is pretty hard lines when a man 
 has a son and " 
 
CO AX Uy OFFICIAL PATHIOT. 
 
 '' lUit, father "' 
 
 "Now. look luTo. ririf, doiTt 'ImU" mo any 
 moiv. I'vf had tliat liouse on tlic ollici' jihice 
 all put ill order and tlic iU'L;'ro (juai'lei's lixrd iip. 
 The nei^'roes can IxdoiiL;' to iiie. of coursf. if 
 3'OU still ha\-c lh;it silly idea in \<>[\r head 
 ahout not \vaniin;_;' lo owai theui, l)Ul \oii li;ive 
 
 o-ot to ]i(dp iiif with them oi- Tlicn damn 
 
 it all. (ii'if. I doiTt intend it to lie saiil that 
 a daii!4-hter-in-la\\' of u//'iic lias to lixc in a 
 iiastv little reiiteil hou.^e ^\■ilhlalt so much as a 
 garden })ateh to it. It is simply disgraceful 
 for you to ask lier to do it ! I "' 
 
 " Fallier, father I *" said (irif. ^vith his voice 
 treinhliiig : '' I — you are always so good to me, 
 Init I — I •' 
 
 Tlie old Major looked over his glasses at his 
 son. J'^aeh understood, and each feigneil that he 
 did not. The Major assumed wrath to hide liis 
 emotion. " Now. look liere, Cirif, I don't want to 
 hear amthing more ahout this business! \ ou 
 make me mad I Wdio am I to go to for help in 
 managing- my land and my niggers if I ean't de- 
 pend on 3-ou for a single thing? That's the 
 question. Confound it all ! Tm tired out, I tell 
 
^.V UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 61 
 
 you, looking after the lazy lot, and now you can 
 take your sliare of the work. AVhat am I o-oino- 
 to do with the gang if Fve got to watch 'em 
 niglit and day, to see that they are kept busy 
 enough not to get into trouble with each other, 
 and get nie in trouble with my neighbors. Just 
 supjDOse Pete had killed Bradley's Ned, then 
 wliat ? Why, Fd liave been sued for a 81,000 
 and Pete would have been hung besides I I tell 
 you, boy, I'm too old for all tliis worry, and I 
 think it's about time I had a little help from 
 
 you. I •" 
 
 The young preacher winced again under the 
 argument, although he kncAv that in part, at 
 least, it was made for a purpose other than the 
 one on the surface. In pai't he knew it was 
 true. He knew that his father had found the 
 task heavy and irksome. He knew that the 
 negroes preferred his own rule, and that they 
 were happier and more tractable with him than 
 Avith the old 'Squire. He knew that as the 
 times had grown more and more unsettled and 
 unsettling, his father had twice had recourse 
 to a hired overseer and that the results had 
 been disastrous for all. He knew that other 
 
62 ^-Y UNOFFICIAL PATIIIOT. 
 
 sons t(Mik imirli of tliis t-dvc and I'esponsibility 
 from llic aging- slu.uldfi's of tla-ir failicrs. He 
 liL'sitati'd — and ^\•as lost. lie A^'ould take the 
 negroes A\itli him and live on the other pkiee 
 — at least one year I 
 
 But \\lien ]\Iiss Katherine brouglit A\'ith her 
 lier falhcr's gift of slaves — which ^Ir. LeKoy had 
 tried Iiard to make sutlieiently numerous to im- 
 press the old Major— (Irif, to his dismav, found 
 liimself oversee)' and practically the owner of 
 twenty-two negroes — and he on a salary of ><200 
 peryear I AVith a plantation to work, the matter 
 of salary Mas, of course, of minor importance. 
 But (irihitli had not failed to see glimpses of a 
 not far-distant future, in these }iast few years as 
 he had read or heard the urgent questions of 
 political policy A\']iich had now becomeso insistent 
 in the newer border states — a future in whicli 
 this life must l)e change(l. liiots and bloodshed, 
 lie knew, had followed in the train of argu- 
 ment and legislati\e action. Slaves had run 
 away and been traeked and returned to angry 
 masters. But the basie question as to whetlier 
 it was right for man to hold property in man 
 had, so far, been presented to his mind in 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL FAT RIOT. 63 
 
 the form of a religious scri-i[)le and with a 
 merely personal a})plieation. Sliouhl niijii.^fers 
 of his CliurcJi buy and sell black men ? Grit'litli 
 had deiinitely settled in his own mind that they 
 should not. But whether they should inherit 
 01' acquire by marriage such property, had, 
 until now, hardly presented a serious face to 
 him. And now, in the form in which they came 
 to him, he saw no present way out of the 
 difficulty even had he greatly desired it. 
 
 I have no doubt that to you, my friend, who 
 were not born in these troublous times, and to 
 you, my neighbor, who lived in another latitude, 
 the problem looks simple enough. " He could 
 free the slaves which were in his power," will 
 be your hrst thought. " I would liave done 
 that," is 3-our next, and yet it is dollars to 
 doughnuts that you would have done nothing 
 of the kind. Oh, no ! I am not reflecting upon 
 your integrity, nor your parsimony — although 
 I have not observed any tendency you may have 
 toward dispensing with your property by gift — 
 but to other and more complicated and complicat- 
 ing questions with which you would have found 
 yourself surrounded, and with which your pri- 
 
04 AX rXOFFK'IAL PATIUOr. 
 
 vatiMiicliiialidiis would have eome into violt'iit 
 eollision. as ( li il'liili 1 )a vi'ii[!oi-t (lisrovcix'(l ; a;i(l 
 siirclw in\' IriiMid, \(iii A\(iiild not i;ai\' to l)c 
 written n|) in tniiwc ^■l■al■s as a violator of tl c 
 law — yon wlio value so li^litly " tliat class oi' 
 people "" tlial A'ou lia\(' often said, (piite openlw 
 that von eare(l \-ei'v little to even read alioni 
 them, and deiiloi'e(l the faet that writers ivunhl 
 thrust them into respeetahle literatni'el 
 
 (irillith had watched tlie coining;- stoi'iu in tlie 
 soutliwest. lie had hoped and played (and 
 until now he had h(die\-cd ) that for liiniself, at 
 least, the (piestion A\as settled, lie A\'ould never 
 ou'u .slaves, therefore he would not l)e called 
 upon to hear any personal part in the eonniiiL;' 
 strug'gde. r>nt a wife's })ropeily was a hushano',. 
 propertv in Ndi'i^ania, in those far-otl harlxiric 
 (lavs, and so (rrifiith found himself in an anoma- 
 lous position, hefoi'e he knew it. foi' ^Ir. Lello}' 
 had given Kalherine lier slaves as a marriage 
 portion, and had stri\-en to make sure that tlieii' 
 nuuiher and (piality should do lionor to tlie 
 daughter-ill-law of her prospective hushaiid't; 
 father. Mr. Lelioy had an exalted opinion of 
 the position and importance of the old ^lajor — 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 65 
 
 or as he always called him, of '^ old 'Squiah 
 Davenpoaht." 
 
 But so matters stood until, a few years later, 
 an accident happened, which resulted in the 
 death of the old ]Major. When the will was 
 opened, Griffith found himself forced to con- 
 front the question of ownership of slaves, fairly 
 if- not fully. The will left "to my beloved 
 son, Griffith, all the slaves now living with him, 
 together ^^dth the farm upon which he now lives 
 and the old homestead; with the admonition 
 that he care for and protect the old slaves and 
 train and employ the young." His other prop- 
 erty was devised in accordance with his wishes, 
 leavino- to his grandchildren and distant rela- 
 tives the other slaves and live stock. 
 
 INIeantime, as this would indicate, there had 
 heen born to Griffitli several children — three 
 boys and a little baby girl — which now filled 
 the hearts and home with life and joy. 
 
 The exigencies of his ministerial life had so 
 
 far made it necessary for him to leave the 
 
 plantation but twice. Father Prout had 
 
 managed to have his " stations '" rotate from 
 
 one small town to another in the immediate 
 5 
 
66 
 
 AX rxOFFICIAL PATUlOT. 
 
 vieinit}', and, Avilli his grouiug stoutness, Mr, 
 ]);n'eiip()il IkuI taken ti» drixinL;-. clii^'lly, since 
 Selini liad l)('rn retii'ed from acti\'e service, to 
 and from Ids places of nu'clinL;- \\eelc after 
 week. 'r\\ii'e. for a year eacli time, lie liad 
 l)een com}i(dl(_M| to leave tlie })lantalion in cliai'^'e 
 of Jei'ry and I'cniove to ;i more distant to\\"n, 
 Avliere tlic small lionsi,' and iniaccnstomed con- 
 ditions had I'csultcd in ill health for Katherine 
 and the children. lint now thev A\'ere on the 
 ''jilace" a!_;ain and A\eie o\\]iersof mitch that 
 re(|nii'ed thai they hiee ku^;er and more com- 
 plicated respoiisihilities — and \\\\w{ was to l)e 
 done? (iriflith had inade np his mind, defi- 
 nitely, that he did not want his sojis to gro\\' up 
 in a slave-owning atmosphere. He had read 
 and thonght nundi of the strnggde over the 
 i\[issouri C'ompi'omise l>ill. He luul lio])ed great 
 things from it, and had hi^'held its final re})eal 
 M'ith dismay, lie had seen, so he helieved, in 
 it the arm that was destined to eheck if not to 
 wipe out human slavery. How this was to he 
 done he did not know : hut that he hoped for 
 it, for all men, he knew. For himself he was 
 quite sure that as a preacher, if not as a man, it 
 
.l.V UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 
 
 was wrong. lie luul determined to- so educate 
 liis sons that tliey ^\"ould not blame liim iov 
 shutting tliem out frcm at least tlie inherited 
 2)ossibilities of the institution which had fallen 
 upon him. But now, what could be done ? The 
 ^Major's will had thrown the task deiinitely upon 
 lihn and had greatl_y increased the difiiculties. 
 He knew that it was against the laws of his state 
 to free the negroes and leave them Avithin its 
 borders. Exactly what the terms of the law- 
 were, he did not know; l)ut it was easj- to 
 realize its need and force. Free negroes were 
 at once a menace to all parties concerned, both 
 wdiite and black. They had no work, no homes, 
 no ties of restraint and responsibility. They 
 were amenable to no one and no one was their 
 friend. They could starve, or they could steal, 
 or they could go Xorth. If they did the first — 
 in a land of plenty — they were not made of that 
 stuff out of wliich Imnian nature is fashioned, 
 be that nature encased in a w liite or in a black 
 skin. If they did the second they fared far 
 w^orse than slaves — the chain-gang for home 
 and the law for a driver has horrors worse than 
 even slavery — at least so thought the colored 
 
68 AX UXOFFICIAL I'ATIUOT. 
 
 man of iSo^. l)Ut if tlicv altcin[)tc(l to acliieve 
 llie last (if ilic llir.M^ altvriiat ivcs tlicir lot was 
 liardest of all. They must leave home, family, 
 wife. childnMi, parciils a;i(l iViriids — all that 
 made life eiidiii'ahle to a [laticiit. alfeclioiiate, 
 simple nature — and lind what '/ Neither friends, 
 A\'(deome no)- 'work ! A climate in whieh ihev 
 sulfei-ed. a |ieii|)lc amou^-st whom their lai'it}' 
 and the sti'aii^-eiifss of their speech and color 
 made of them (>l)jects of curiosilvand aversion 
 — where the very children lied from them in 
 flight — little childi'en like those ^\llom they Iiad 
 nursed and fondled and who alwavs had loved 
 tlu'm ! Tliey AV(iuld tiud the })ix'judice a^'ainst 
 their color intense lieyond belief, for few" indeed 
 were the men or ^\'omen in the free stales who 
 wonhl n'ive M'ork of anv kind to tliese strann'e- 
 looking' and stranger-speaking creatures. In- 
 deed, no one M'as more shocked to learn than 
 ^^■as Griflith, that in some of the Lorder 
 .states it was illegal to give emjjloyment to 
 these ex-slaves. All this (friflith was destined 
 to learn to his cost. lie knew, already, that 
 slaves trained as his father's wei'e, had no concep- 
 tion of hard and constant work such as was 
 
.l.V UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. GO 
 
 demanded oi the noilliern laborer. He knew 
 that they eouhl not hope to eompete with wliite 
 ^^■ol■knlen in a far-away hekl of hxbor even coukl 
 tliey get the Avoik to do. He knew that they 
 Avouhl be tlie si)ort — where they were not the 
 oanie and victims — of those white hiborers. lie 
 knew that the employer (were they so fortunate 
 as to find one) would not be slow to learn that 
 they accomplished less and ate more than did 
 their white rivals. That alone would, of 
 course, settle their chances of competition, and 
 starvation or crime would again become their 
 only alternative. 
 
 A freed slave, in a country where slavery 
 still existed, was a sorry and unhapi\v spectacle ; 
 but a freed slave in competition with freemen 
 was a tragedy in black ! 
 
 Griffith had fought his battle alone. It is true 
 that he had talked much with his wife on the 
 subject, and it is also true that her faith in and 
 love for him made her ready acquiescence in his 
 final decision a matter of course ; but with no 
 outlook into the political world, with no mental 
 scope beyond the liorizon prescribed as suitable 
 for women, she could give him nothing but loy- 
 
70 AX ry OFFICIAL PATUIOT, 
 
 alty. She could echo his sentiments. Slie 
 conhl not stininhite or aid liis tlion^ht. Attuned 
 to folhnv, slie couhl not h'ad, and Mas eijuall}' 
 unhtted to kee}) even step withliini side l)yside. 
 Slie did not share, iinr couhl slic nndersta-iid, 
 licr hushand"s acute mental misL^ivinL;s and h)re- 
 hodinys. Tlie few times slie had spohen to lier 
 father of them, he had sai<l lliat slie need not 
 woriy. "(iriflith is no fool. He'll get over 
 this idiotic notion l)ef"ore long. It is reading 
 tliose dannied Yankee s])eeches that is the 
 trouhle with liim. You just l)e patient. Iledl 
 get over it. The old *S(pure kne\\' how to cure 
 liim. Like to know what he'd do witli all those 
 niggers? But (rrifhtli is no fool, I tell you, if 
 lie is a ]Methodist." Katherine had not relished 
 the. last I'emark, and she did not believe that 
 her father (piite eom})reheiuled how deep a hold 
 on Grifiitli tla:' idea of freedom for the blacks — 
 and freedom from ownership of them for him- 
 self — had taken ; but she was silenced. 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 71 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 "My couscieoce whispers." — SJiakespeare. 
 
 But at last the crisis came. One of the girls — 
 Sallie, a faithful creature — had married '* Brad- 
 ley's John," and now John was about to be sold 
 and sent to Georgia. Either John must be sepa- 
 rated from his wife and child, or Sallie must be 
 sold, or jMr. Davenport must buy John and 
 keep him here ! The final issue had come ! 
 John begged to be bought. Sallie pleaded not 
 to be allowed to be sold, nor to be separated 
 from her husband. Katherine agreed to plead 
 for Sallie, who had been her own playmate ever 
 since she could remember. 
 
 " Git Mos' Grif ter buy John, Mis' Kate ! Fo' 
 God's sake, Mis' Kate, git 'im ter buy John I 
 Yoh kin. I knows mon'sous well dat yoh kin ! 
 He gwine ter do jes' what yoh tell 'im ter. I 
 knows dat he is, Mis' Kate ! " 
 
 Mr. Davenport was in his study. Katherine 
 
72 AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 
 
 had ox})laiiK'(l the case to liim fully, and Sallie's 
 Ijlack face peered in behind him, with anxious 
 eyes, watching and listening to her mistress. 
 
 '• Katherine, I cannot ! I cannot }iay money 
 for a liuman being. 1 liave yielded, step by sleji, 
 to what I felt \\as wr(jng long ago. until 
 now I am eanght in the tangled threads of tliis 
 awful system — l)ut I cannot! I ciouiof pay 
 money for a htiman soul I "' 
 
 Suddenly Sallie fell at his feet. and. swaying 
 to and fro, swting her sttuxly frame like a reed 
 in the AA'ind. 
 
 " Oh, ]Mos' Grif, fo' Ciod's sake. l)uy John I 
 Ain't vo' got no nuissv. Mos" Giif ? Don' let 
 dat ]M(ts" liradk'V sen' Jolui "way off dar I I 
 gwine ter die right heah. if yo" don' he]i me, 
 iMos' Grif I .Vin'l T lieen a good giil ? ^Vin't I 
 nus de chillun good, an' did'n I pull ]\Ios' Bev- 
 erly outeii de ci'ick when he fall in an" wus mose 
 drowndcd? ( )h. fo" Christ's sake. ^los' G]if. btiy 
 my John I lie gwine ter wtdc fo' yoh all his 
 life long, an' he gwine ter l)e good I " 
 
 She swayed and wept and moaned. She held 
 hei' l)aby to her breast and cried ottt for John, 
 and then she held it out toward Griftith and 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 73 
 
 stared through streaniino- eves at his face to see 
 if he had relente(L And slill Grillith was 
 silent. Ilis teetli were set tight togetlier, and 
 his nails cut his palms, l)ut he said not a word. 
 
 "Mos' Grif, iNIos' Grif ! what did Ciod 
 A'mighty gib voh all dis Ian' an' houses an' 
 money fo"? What He gih yoli my ^lis' Kath'- 
 rine fo"? 'Cause He know yoh gwine ter Ije 
 o'oodan' kine, an' — an' datyoh gwine ter he good 
 ter u^ ! Mos' Grif, de good Lawd ain't fo'got 
 we alls des kase we ]»lack ! " 
 
 She rolled the baljy on the floor beside lier 
 and grasped both of her master's clenched hands, 
 and struggled to open them as she talked. She 
 seemed to think if they would but relax that he 
 would 3'ield. 
 
 " Mos' Grif, we bofe gwine ter wuk fo' yoh, 
 an' pray fo' yoh, and dat baby, dar, gwine ter 
 wuk an' pray fo' yoli all ouh lifes long — all de 
 days ob ouli lifes, des fo' dat little, teenchy six 
 hund'ud dollahs, what ^los' Bradley got terhab 
 fo' John ! xVll ouh lifes long ! All ouli lifes 
 long, we gwine ter wuk and pray fo' yoh, des 
 fo' dat little, teenchy six hund'ud dollahs ! ! " 
 
 Mrs. Davenport put lier baud on lier bus- 
 
74 AX UNOFFICIAL PATIIIOT. 
 
 band's sliouLlcr. Ik-r eyes A\'ure M'et and her 
 li})S tiendiled. 
 
 '^ Ciril'liili, i,\]i;tt liai-ni can it do? And see 
 liow iiiKcli good ! (iriliiilj, A\-e ^\■ill nil l()\'e you 
 better if you will. I ean"t bear to see Sallie tlie 
 \\\\\ slie lias been these last two months — ever 
 sinee it was deeided t<.) sell John to that man 
 when he conies. It is lieai'l-breakiuL;-. You 
 know, darling, she played with me evi/r since 
 we A\'erc babies. ;ind she has l)efn n" cjoi'd to ]nv 
 cliildrcn — "///■ children, Cirii'lilh ! "' She low- 
 ered her voice to a mere whisper: '"('aiMiod 
 want you to l)e so cruel as this, (irillilh?"" 
 
 Mr. Davenport had never dreamed that any- 
 thing he mighl h'el it his duly to do would 
 seem to his wife like crueltw It hurt him 
 sorely. lie hioked u[) at lu-r with a drawn face. 
 
 '• Kalheiine,"' he said, "lei us give Sallie her 
 freed(.>m, and let her go with -John.*' 
 
 '• Xo, no, no, no! I ain't gwiiie ter go wdd 
 dat n)an I I ain't g'wine ter lie no free wife nig- 
 ger, 'pendin' on him I I ain't gwine ter lealje 
 Mis' Katli'rine, nedder ! "' She arose in her 
 fear, which was turning to wrath. '' ]\Iis' Kate, 
 yoh ain't gwine ter let him gib me away, is 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 75 
 
 yoh ? I don' Lelong to nobody ter gib au^ay, 
 but des tcr my Mis' Kate, an' she ain't gwine 
 ter gib me 'way arter I done nus her ebillun an' 
 save de life of Mo.s' Beverly ! Dat ain't de kine 
 o' lady my Mis' Kate is ! O i\lis' Kate, Mis' 
 Kate ! T done wisbt yoli'd a-gone and married 
 dat Mos' Tom Harrison dat time wat 'e ax you! 
 He don't lub money dat mueli dat be can't spabr 
 a little six bund'ud doUabs ter sabe me an' 
 Jobn an' — an' — an' dis beab l)aby 1 '' 
 
 Sbe caugbt up tbe baliy from tlie floor again 
 and beld it toward ber master. 
 
 " Dar ! take bit an' kill bit fus' as well as 
 las' ! kase /o-wine ter die, an' bit o-wine ter be 
 ni}' ]\los' Grif dat kill bote of us. God gwine 
 ter know "bout dat ! Jobn gwine ter tell 'im ! 
 Jesus gwine ter know dat six little bund'ud 
 dollabs is wuf more ter my Mos' Grif dan me" 
 an' j'ob an' Jobn," sbe moaned, bolding tbe 
 baby up in front of ber. " All free, bofe ob us, 
 ain't wuf dat little mucb t' onb ]Mos' Grif I 
 All free, bofe ob us ! A little, teencby, ugl}^ 
 six bund'ud dollabs ! He radder bal) bit in de 
 bank er in de desk er in be pocket — dat little 
 six bund'ud dollabs wbat's mo' bigfo-er dan all 
 
76 AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 
 
 ol) us — uii" mo* l)iL;L;'t-'i' <laii ]\Iis* K;itt'"s lul)I"' 
 She fell to sol)l)in-' again. ^- Des dal little 
 uiucli ! I )('s (lat liitli' imicli!"" she moaned. 
 " .Ml ol) us ^'ot tcr die fer des dat little luueh ! 
 Aif Mos' (irif, he doii" care. lie luh dat little 
 mucli moiiev uio dan wat he do dl] olj us, eount- 
 iu' ill Mis' Kate's lul) \\id de res" I " 
 
 ]Iis wile had n'one to her chair and A\-as hold- 
 ing' a haiidkerchief to her face, lie could see 
 her lips and chin tremhle. 
 
 *•' I will l)uv .lohn, Sallie, if " 
 
 Sallie L;'i'asped the two hands aL;ain. They 
 A\'ere relaxed and cold. 
 
 *" I knowed hit I I knowed hit I O L;'ood, kind 
 Jesus I () Lord. Saviour I dey ain't no //'.' Dey 
 ain't no if I My .Mos' (irif g'wine ter do hit. 
 Dev ain't no if lef in dem han's I My ]Mos' 
 (irif g'wine ter huv John ! " and she fell on her 
 knees again and sohhed for jov. She caught the 
 little hlack hahy U}) from the floor where it lay, 
 laughing and kicking its toes in the air, and 
 erushed it so close to her breast that it cried out 
 and tlien set up a ^-ail. Sallie stopped Aveaving 
 her hody to and fro, and tried to smile through 
 her tears. 
 
.4.V UNOFFICIAL PATUIOT. 
 
 " Des listen tcr tlat fool l)al)y ! Hits iT\iir fo' 
 des a little liu't like dat, aif I only des elioke 
 hit wif my anas ! !Mos* Orif done cliuke my 
 hawt out wid grief, an" now lie done stran;.,K' 
 me Avid joy, Lefo" I got ter cry, eliile ! Yoali 
 po' mammy's liavrt done bus" wide open wid joy 
 now. l)at"s what make I ean't talk no sense, 
 j\I()s" Giif. I des wants ter yell. But Mis' 
 Katlierine, slie know. I des kin see dat she do. 
 She know dat I feel des like I gwine ter bus' 
 ])lum' down tei' \\\\ ehist. She know ! "' 
 
 She laid the baby down again and suddeidy 
 held up both arms toward her master. Her voice 
 was a wail. 
 
 " Tell me dat de}' ain't no if lef in your 
 hawt, jNIos" Grif I I knows dat dey ain"t, l)ut I 
 got ter heah 30' mij dat dey ain't, an" den I kin 
 go ! "' 
 
 " I will buy John, Sallie. There is no if," he 
 said ; and Katherine threw her arms around his 
 neck and looked at him through tears of joy. 
 
 That night the Rev. Griffith Davenport 
 prayed long and earnestly that he might be for- 
 given for this final weakness. He felt that his 
 moral fiber was weakening. He had broken the 
 
AX rXOFFiriAL PATRIOT. 
 
 VOW taken so long aq'o. lit,- tVlt that the boiid.s 
 Avere tiyhtening- almut liiiii, and tliat it wonhl Ije 
 liai'dcr than ever to (dcMiisL' Ids sonl from wliat 
 he hatl grown to feed was an awfnl wrong — this 
 ownei'ship, and now this nioiR-y pnrehase. of a 
 luunan souh 
 
 '•I liave gone the wliole length,'" he 
 siglied to Idnisidf. •• I lia^'e at hist, with my 
 eyes dpen, witli iii}' eonscieiiee against me, done 
 this wrong I T liave paid money for a human 
 l)eing. I know it is a Avroiig — 1 know — I know, 
 and yet I liave done it ! (iod liLdp me I God 
 forgive me I I eannot see my way ! I eannot 
 see my ^vay I "" 
 
 In tlie distance, as lie arose from his knees, 
 there lloated in througli tlie open window the 
 refrain from Sallie's song, as she moved about 
 the (|itarters : — 
 
 An" deys no mo" troulilo. an" doys no mo" pain, 
 Ail" deys no mo" trouble fo" nic. fo" me ! 
 
 An' deys no mo" sorrci'. an" no hid" pain — 
 
 Oil, deys no mo" troulile fo" nie, f-o-li-li m-e-e-e ! 
 
 I libs on de banks ob de gdlden slioali. 
 
 Oh, I libs in de promise" Ian" ! 
 An' I sez to de Lawd, when He opens the doah, 
 
 Dat deys no mo" trouble fo' me ! 
 
.1.Y UXOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 
 
 De Lawd lie says, when he took my hau\ 
 
 " Enter into de gates ob res' ! " 
 An' He gib me a harp, an' I jines de ban', 
 
 Fo' deys no mo' sorrer fer me ! 
 
 Lippy Jane was dancing, on the back porch, 
 to the rhythm of the distant song, and two of the 
 bhick boj^s stopped in their race with Beverly, 
 over the hiwn, to take up tlie chorus — '' Oh, 
 deys no mo' troul)le fo' me, f-o-h m-e ! " 
 
 But, in spite of his prayer for " light and 
 leading," as he would have called it, Mr. Daven- 
 port felt that his moral fiber was, indeed, weak- 
 ening, and yet he could not see his way out of 
 the dilemma. He had definitely decided so 
 long ago now that he could not remember when 
 he had thought otherwise, that for one in his 
 position, at least, even the mere ownership of 
 slaves could not be right. He recalled that it 
 had come to him at first in the form of purchase 
 and sale, and it had seemed to him that under 
 no conditions could he be forced into that form 
 of the complication ; but a little later on he de- 
 cided that the mere ownership involved moral 
 turpitude for one of his denomination, at least, 
 if he was in deed and in truth following the 
 leaderhip of the Christ. 
 
80 
 
 AX rxoFFiriAL PATUIor. 
 
 AVlieii lii'st 111' liad nL;'i-ct'(l to lalce part of liis 
 fatliL'r"s sl:i\-c>. llici'cl'orr. In' liad made liimsidf 
 feel lliat it was v\<j;]ii lliat lie sliould assume a 
 part of tlie old Major's l)urdeirs as his sou and 
 trustt'e, oulv, and that thei'e A\'as to l)e no ti'aiis- 
 fer of properly. ddiat tliis ser\'iee was his 
 father's (hie and that lie should give it freely 
 seemeil plain to him. Katlu'rine's slaves lie liad 
 al\va\'s thouglit of as liers alone — uot at all as 
 liis : l)Ut ever since the old Major had died and 
 tlie will had settled heyond a (piiMde that tlie 
 JJe\-. (ii'iflith l)a\'eiipoi't vas hinr^elf, in deed and 
 in truth •• Mos' (irif* to all these de})eudent 
 creatures, it had liorne more and more heavily 
 upon liis eonseieiiee. He had tried to think 
 and plan some wav out of it and had huled, aud 
 now he had lieeu forced to face the iinal issue — 
 the one phase M'hich he had felt could never 
 touch him, — the [)Uieliase hir money of a lilack 
 uian. and he had yieldetl at the hrst test! His 
 lieart liad outweighed his head and his con- 
 science comhined, aud the line he had fixed so 
 long ago as the one lioundary of this evil which 
 //(' could never pass, aud which, tliank God, uo 
 one else could thrust upon him, was obliterated, 
 
.4.V UNOFFICIAL PATIUOT. 81 
 
 ami lie .stood on the far side condemned l)v liis 
 
 whole nature I In this iniquity irom wliieh he 
 
 had felt his hands should forever Ije free, they 
 
 were steeped ! He felt wounded and sore and 
 
 that a distinct step downward had been taken, 
 
 and yet he asked himself over and over agaiu 
 
 what he could have done in the matter that 
 
 would not have l)eeu far worse. He slept little. 
 
 The next day when he went to Mr. Bradley to 
 
 buy John his whole frame trembled and he felt 
 
 sick and weak. 
 
 His neighbor noticed that he was pale, and 
 
 remarked upon it, and then turned tlie subject 
 
 to the matter in hand which Sallie had duly 
 
 reported an hour after she had won and her 
 
 master had lost the great moral contest. For it 
 
 cannot be denied that, all things considered, 
 
 Sallie had won a distinct victory for the future 
 
 moral life of herself and for John and the baby. 
 
 So complicated are our relations to each other 
 
 and to what we are [)leased to call right and 
 
 wrong in this heterogeneous world, that in doing 
 
 this Sallie had forced her master into a position 
 
 which seemed to him to cancel his right to feel 
 
 himself a man of honor and a credit to the re- 
 6 
 
82 AX UN OFFICIAL PATlUOr. 
 
 ligion ill AAlii(;li lie believed lie had. so i'ai', found 
 all his lofliL'st ideals. He could plainly see, 
 now, that this phase of the terril)le problem 
 would l)e sure to arise and coid'ront liini again 
 and again as time went on, and liis lirart adiiMl 
 when lie felt that he liad lost liis grasp u[)on tlie 
 anelior of his princi[)les and that the boundary 
 lines of his ethieal integrity were again becom- 
 ing sadly confused in a mind lie liad grown to 
 feel had long ago clearly settled and delined 
 them. 
 
 "You look as pale as a ghost. Better try a 
 little of Maria's l)lachl»erry cordial ? Xo ? Do 
 you good, I'm sure, if you would,"' said Mr. 
 Bradley. '"■ Yott're taking this tiling altogether 
 too much to heart, sir. What possiljle differ- 
 ence can it make to John whether you })ay for 
 him or whether he had come to you as the others 
 did ? If you Avill allow me to say so, I think 
 it is a ridiculous distinction. Somebody paid 
 for the ones you've got. If yottdl allow an old 
 neighbor to make a suggestion, I think you read 
 those Yankee papers altogether too much and 
 too seriously. It perverts your judgment. It's 
 a good sight easier for those fellows up there to 
 
AX UNOFFICIAL PATBIOT. 80 
 
 settle this question than it is for ns to do it. 
 Tliey simply don't know what they are talking 
 ahout, and we do. With tliem it's all theory. 
 Plere it's a cold fact. What in the name of 
 common sense would they have ? Suppose we 
 didn't own and provide for and direct all these 
 niggers, what on earth Avould become of 'em ? 
 Where would they get enough to eat ? You 
 know as well as I do there is nothing on this 
 earth as helpless and as much to be pitied as a 
 free nigger. They don't kiiow how to take care 
 of themselves, and nobody is going to liire one. 
 What in thunder do people want us to do ? 
 Brain 'em?" 
 
 " Oh, I know, I know," said ]Mr. Davenport, 
 helplessly, looking far off into the beautiful 
 valley, with its hazy atmosphere and its rich 
 fields of grain. '' I've thought about it a 
 thousand times, and a thousand times it has 
 baffled me. I'm not judging, now, for you, Mr. 
 Bradley, not in the least. I feel myself too 
 thorougldy caught in the meshes of our social 
 fabric to presume to unravel it for other people. 
 But — but in my position — for myself — it seems 
 a monstrously wrong thing for me to count out 
 
84 A.\ rXOFFKIAL I'ATinOT. 
 
 this nioiicy and j)ay it oN'er for Jolni, just as if 
 lie wrix' a. lioisc. Ii jiiakt-s iik' feel sirl^ — as T 
 fancy a criininal iimst fcrl after liis lirsl crime.'" 
 
 Ml-. IJradlcy lan-]ic<l. 
 
 '' V(»u <Ioiri ]iii»k it. Davciip(irt I T'liniinal ! 
 lla. lia, lia. ]ia .' lliat's ricli \" 
 
 (Jiil'lilli iii()\c(l uneasily and did not join the 
 lan^li wliicli slill com ulsed his neiL;hl)or. 
 
 '•For iiirii is wroni;- — -(UsiincUy, al)solutely 
 "wrong. It is a terrihlc iliing for nie to say — 
 and still do it — I, a preacher of (iod ! For yon, 
 I cannot judge. • Judge not. that yc l)e not 
 judged,' is \\liat I always think in this 
 matter. lUit for me, for iiw it is not right — and 
 yet what can I do '! " 
 
 ^Ir. liradlc}' laughed again, partly in amuse- 
 ment and })arlly in derision, al what he looked 
 U[)on as the preacher's umvorldlv view, and 
 ^vhat he s[)oki! of Mith vexation to others as 
 " Daven})ort\s damned foolishness," winch had, 
 of late, grown to he a matter of real unrest to 
 the neighl)orhood, in whicli it was felt that the 
 influence of siudi opinions could not fail to Ije 
 dangerous to social older and staltility. It was 
 as if you or I were t<» f^pi'ing the t|uestion of 
 
.l.Y UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 
 
 free land or free money in a convention of land- 
 lords and l)ankers. Or, if you please, like the 
 arguments for anarchy or no government ad- 
 dressed to the " Fourth ward," or the members of 
 Cono-ress. It was, in short, subversive of the 
 established order of things, and neither you, nor 
 I, nor they, acce[>t quite gracefully such proposi- 
 tions, if in their application to ourselves, they 
 would be a sore and bitter loss — if it would render 
 less secure and lofty our seat on the social or 
 political throne. We revolt and we blame the 
 disturber of the old established order of things— 
 the order, which having been good enough for 
 our fathers is surely good enough for you and 
 for me. In short, was not the way in religion 
 and in social order of our fathers far the better 
 way ? Is not the better way always that of the 
 man who owns and rides in the carriage ? If 
 you will ask him — or if you are he — you will 
 learn or see that there is not the least doubt of 
 the fact. If you should happen to ask the man 
 who walks, you may liear another story — if the 
 man who walks happens to be a philosopher ; 
 but as all pedestrians are not philosophers and 
 since acquiescence is au easy price to pay foy 
 
sc. AX ryoFFK i.iL p.irnioT. 
 
 peace, it may liappeii tliat tlie iviaii in tlie 
 carriage ^^■ill ])v eorrolxtraleil by the wayfarer 
 whom liis -wheels liave run down. 
 
 And so. my friend, in the year 18.')2, liad yi^u 
 l)cen sittinL;' eonntiiic;' ont the six hnndi'ed 
 dolhii's -wliicli mnst eliange liands to enable 
 John to play with the little blaek baby on his 
 knee, after his day's woi'k was done, and to keep 
 Sallie fi'om the pitifnl fate she dreade<l, it is to 
 l)e qnestioned if you would not have agreed 
 with Mr. r>rad]ey in his eovert o[)inion that 
 " l)a\'enp()rt's s(jueamishness was all damned 
 nonsense," and that he might hir better st()p 
 reading those Yaidcee newspapers. But he that 
 as it may, the di-ed was done. The transfer 
 was made, and the IJev. (iril'lith Davenport rode 
 liome with a sad heart and trouliled eonseience. 
 He did not sing nor even hum his favorite 
 hymns as he rode. Ilis usually radiant face 
 was a study in perplexity. When he })assecl 
 the cross-roads he did not whistle to the robin 
 who always answered him. 
 
 Selim's successor and namesake slackened 
 liis gait and wondered. Then he jogged on, and 
 when he stopped at the borne " stile " and 
 
^.V VNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 87 
 
 Griffith still sat on his back, apparently oblivious 
 of the fact that the journey was at an end, 
 Selim whinnied twice before the responsive pat 
 fell upon his glossy neck. 
 
 Jerry ran out. " Dinnah's raidy. Mos' Grif. 
 ]\lis' Kath'rine she Ijeen a waitin' fob yoh." 
 
 The rider roused himself and dismounted, 
 more like an old man than like his cheery, 
 jovial, alert self. 
 
 "Is that so? Is it dinner-time already?" 
 he asked absently. '- Feed him, but don't put 
 liim up. I may want him again after dinner." 
 
 " You ain't sick, is you, Mos" Grif ? "' 
 
 " No, no, boy, I'm not sick,'' he said, and 
 then recognizing the look of anxiety on the 
 faithful fellow's face : " What made you ask 
 that ? " 
 
 " Yoh look so monst'ous leraoncholly, Mos' 
 Grif. Hit ain't seem like yo'se'f. I des 
 fought dey mus' be somp'in de mattah wid yo' 
 insides." 
 
 ]\Ir. Davenport laughed and snapped the rid- 
 ing whip at the boy. Jerry dodged the stroke, 
 but rubbed the place where it was supposed to 
 fall. 
 
AX ry OFFICIAL PATIHOT. 
 
 '• Lc'iuoiicliolly, am I ? Til leirionclinlly you, 
 you I'uscal, if you don't just knork oil" and g-o 
 lishing- this afternoon. I slian't need you ■\\'itli 
 me." 
 
 IFc A\-as half way to tlie hotise when he 
 called hack' : •• nring me a nice mess of ti'out, 
 l)0y, and \-(tu"ll see mv insides. as 3"ou eall *em, 
 will lie all riu'ht. lt"s trout I need. Now 
 
 mmd . 
 
 And Jerry was comforted. 
 
.LV UNOFFTCIAL PATRIOT. SO 
 
 CHAPTER A^r. 
 
 WHAT WOULD YOU HAVE 1)( )XE ? 
 
 It was a year later before the Rev. Griffith 
 Davenport found himself in a position to earry 
 out, even in part, a long-eherished plan of his. 
 For some time past, he had l)een strengthening 
 himself in the belief that in the long run he 
 would have to flee from the problem that so 
 perplexed him. That he would have to make 
 one supreme effort which should, thereafter, 
 shield him against himself and against temp- 
 tation. This determination had cost him the 
 severest struggle of his life, and it had resulted 
 in the rupture of several lifelong friendships 
 and in strained relations with his own and his 
 wife's near kinsmen. It had divided his church 
 and made ill-feeling among his brother clergy- 
 men, for it liad become pretty generally known 
 and talked about, that the Rev. Griffith Daven- 
 port had definitely determined to leave his old 
 
00 AX rXOFFTCIAL PATniOT. 
 
 lionu' and taku liis sons to ^k- L'<lucalc(l •• wli^Te 
 tlu' trrinl of tlioiiglit is towaid fiXH'doiu " as lie 
 liad ('X[)r('ssrd it. and as Lis ludg'li'toi-s wei'o iOnd 
 of (jUotiiiL;' d(•l■isi^■^l^". He liad linally st'cui'ed 
 a. posilion ill connect ion \\'ii]i a small collco-e 
 sonicw lu'i'c ill Indiana, to^cilicr willi an a[)- 
 pointniciit as •• prc^idiiiL;' elder"" in the district 
 in \\liich tlic (;oll('^-c was located. He liad 
 arratin'ctl for the sale of his property, and he \\'as 
 alxiiit to leave. 
 
 To tliose ^\'llose traditions of atieestry all center 
 alx)tit one locality, it costs a ferivfnl strug'g'le to 
 tear tip root and lu'anch and strike out into 
 unknown llelds among }ie(»[)le of a diiTereiit type 
 and class ; v.ith dissimilar ideas and standai'ds 
 of action and belief. To such it is almost like 
 the threat or presence of death in the house- 
 hold. l^)irt to voluntarily disru[it and leave 
 behind all of that •\\liicli has given color and 
 tone ami suhsianee to one's daily life, and at its 
 meridian, to begin anew the weaving of another 
 fal)ric from unaccustomed threads on a strange 
 and nnknoMii loom, to readjust one's self to a 
 different civilization — all this re(ptires a heroism, 
 a fidelity to conscience and, withal, a confidence 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 91 
 
 in one's own judgment and l)eliefs that sur- 
 pass the normal limit. But, if in addition to 
 all this, the contemplated change is to he made 
 in pursuance of a moral conviction and will 
 surely result in Ihiancial loss and material 
 discomfort, it would not he the part of wisdom 
 to ask nor to expect it of those who are less 
 than heroic. In order to compass his plans Mr. 
 Davenport knew tliat it Avould he necessary to 
 dispose of his slaves. But how ? 
 
 lie hoped to take with him to his new home 
 —although the}' Avould be freed by the very 
 act — several of the older ones and Jerry and 
 his little family. He knew that these would, 
 by their faitliful services, be a comfort and sup- 
 port to his wife and of infinite use and advau- 
 taofe to the children, whose love and coiifidence 
 they had. To take all into his employ in the 
 new home would, of course, be impossible. He 
 would no longer have the estate of an esquire. 
 At first, at least, he must live in a small town. 
 There would be no land to till and no income 
 to so support them. The liouse would no 
 longer be the roomy mansion of a planter. His 
 income would be too meager to warrant the 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATIUOr. 
 
 keeping' of even so many servants as tliey were 
 planning to take — and tlieie \\(inM Ix' little 
 ^\"()rk for tlieni to <lo. The others ninst l)e dis- 
 posed of in some otiier wav. Hut how? They 
 are yonrs, my i'riend, for the moment. Ilow 
 will y(Ui dispose of them? What wonld you 
 have doTie ? 
 
 " Free them and leave tlicn in the state ot" 
 their hii'lh and of their love M'heie theii' friends 
 and k'insnien are?"" Bnt v<ui eainiot I It is 
 against the la\\' ! If vou free tht;ni you must 
 take them away. Sell them? ( )f eourse not ! 
 givt' them to youi' wife"s and your own people y 
 Would that settle or only pei'petuate and shift 
 the (piestion h)r M"hieh vou are suffering and 
 saerilieing so nnieh ? ^Vnd it would discriminate 
 l)etween those you take and thus niake free ami 
 those you leave and farther lix in hondage, and 
 the Kev. Grifiith Davenport had set out to meet 
 and perform, and not merely to shift and evade, 
 what he had grov\"n to look U})On as his duty 
 to himself and to them. It was this which had 
 l)urdened and weighed upon him all these last 
 months, nntil at last lie had determined to meet 
 it in the onlv way that seemed to settle it once 
 
^IJV UNOFFICIAL PATRKjT. 93 
 
 and for all. He would go. lie would free all 
 of tliein and take lliem with him into the state 
 of his ado}»tion. He would then give hired 
 employment to those he needed in his house- 
 hold and the others would have to shift for 
 themselves. This lie prepared to do. Some of 
 them Avould not want to go into a homeless and 
 strange new land. This lie also knew. Pete 
 was, as the negroes phrased it, "settin' u[) to " 
 Col. Phelps' Tilly. Pete would, therefore, re- 
 sist, and wish to remain in Virginia. Old ]Milt 
 and his wife had seven children who were the 
 property of other people in the neighborhood, 
 and their grandchildren were almost countless. 
 It would go hard with jMilt and Phillis to 
 leave all these. It would go even harder with 
 them to he free — and homeless. Both were 
 old. Neitlier could hope to be self-supj^orting. 
 My friend, have 3'ou decided what to do ^\■it]l 
 Milt and Phillis ? Add Judy and ]\Iammy and 
 five other old ones to your list when you have 
 solved the prol^lem. 
 
 INIr. Bradley had spoken to Griffith of all 
 these things — of the hardships to both black 
 and white — and of the possible outcome. 
 
04 AX UXOFFICIAL PATHIor. 
 
 Over ;iii(l over duriii'^' llic ve;ir. wlieii tlicy li;ul 
 talked (if til!' pi'oposcd lu.'W iimvi,'. lir had iirgL'd 
 llicstj points. 
 
 "It seL'ius tit inc. Ml'. I );i vrii|iort, tliat you 
 art' ;4'oiiiL;- ti> tackle a. pi'ettv rtiiiL;'li Jul). Yoiisav 
 VdU will t;dvc all of tliciii as far a>' Wasliiiigtoii, 
 aiiyliiiw. Now you ou^lit tn know that there 
 are no end of five ni^'^'eis in A\'ashin^'ton, 
 already, with no \\-ay to suii[)ort themselves. 
 L(H.k at Mill and Phillis nnd Judy and Dan, 
 and thosi' oiher did diirs in the two end c-al)ins ! 
 They've all served \<n\ and yonr ialher before 
 you faithfully all of their hnes, and tiow vmi 
 are |iro|)osiny tn turn tlu/ni ont to die — sinijilv 
 to starve to (le;ilh. Thai's the U[)shot of ■\-our 
 fiHtlishness. "^ on know thev won't steal, ami 
 they ean't wcn-k en(iUL;'h to s!i[i[i()rt th.emselves. 
 All the old ones itre in the s;inie tix, and the 
 youny ones v.ill sim.j)ly l)e |itit on the ehain- 
 <;'an;4' for petty thefts of food liefore voti -get 
 fairly settled otit west. Lord. Lord, man, vou 
 don't know what you are doiny ! I wish the 
 old i\L;jor Avas here to pttt a ^top to it. Ytm'i'e 
 layiny tip sulTering- for yourself, you're laying- 
 up sorrow and crime for them, you are robbing 
 
AX UNOFFICIAL PAT RIOT. 95 
 
 your cliildrt'U of llieir Ijirtliriglit, and of what 
 their graiulfatliers liave done for tlieni, ymi ai'e 
 making- troulde among odier })eo|)k'"s niggers 
 here v:\\o hear of it, and think it Avonkl he a 
 fine thing to he a free nigger in AVa.sliingtou or 
 Indiana — and Avhat good is it all going to do? 
 Just answer nic that? It Avould take a miero- 
 scope to see any good that can come out of it. 
 It's easy enough to see the harm. Look at 
 'Squire Xelson's Jack I He undertook to run 
 off last "Week, and Xelson had him whipped 
 within an inch of his life. Yes, had policy, 
 and cruel, of course, hut that's the kind of a 
 man Xelsou is. Now your move is going to 
 stir up that sort of thing all around here. It does 
 it every time. You know that. What in thunder 
 has got into the heads of some of you fellows, I 
 can't see. It started in ahout the time you 
 Methodists began riding around here. Sometimes 
 I think they Avere sent down here just for that 
 purpose, and that the preaching was onl)- a hlind." 
 Mr. Davenport laughed. '' Ha, ha, ha, ha ! 
 Bradley, you are a hopeless case ! If I didn't 
 know you so well, I'd feel like losing my 
 temper ; but " 
 
OG 
 
 AX ry OFFICIAL I'ATIUOT. 
 
 ''()li. I (Inii'i mean you, nf cohi'sl'. T know 
 j/oii 'j;()\ lo l)clic\-inL;' in llu- new ruli^'ioii a::il 
 H'ol It'll on. I mean lliosc fellows "wlio canif 
 (lowiL licic and stai1i'(l it all \\]K'n voii wci'u 
 a i^'ood, scnsililr lio\'. .Knd liow do tlicv 
 q't't llicii' l'oolislinrs>, anvlio\\" ? ^ our ISiltlc 
 teaclu's tlic r\'j;]\t of slaxciy ]ilaiii ciiou^li. in 
 all conscience, and even if il didii"t, sla\'eiy 
 is liei'e and we can"! liel]i oui'sehes; and 
 A\'liars nioi'e we caiTl liel[i the ni^'L^'ers 1 1 y turii- 
 iuL;' some of "eia loo-e to starve, and letting 
 tliem make ti-oul»le for l)otli the mastei's and 
 the slaves that aiv left behind. I just tidl you, 
 ]\Ir. ])aven})ort, it is a 1)!l;' mistake ami you are 
 going to lind it out befoi'c you are done with 
 it." 
 
 (i]illilh had gn^wu so used to these talks and 
 to those of a less kindl}' tone that he had 
 stopped arguing the matter at all. and, indeed, 
 there seenicd little he could say beyond the 
 fact, that it was a matter of conscience Avith 
 him. !Iis ^\ife"s father had berated liim 
 soundly, and her sisters })lain]y stated that, in 
 tlieir opinion, '* po(n- Ih'other Giif was in.sane."' 
 They pitied their sister Katherine from the 
 
AJV UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 97 
 
 bottom of tlieir hearts, and tliaiiked God 
 devoutly that their respective liusl)an(ls were 
 not simihul}' al'lheted. And, as may l)e reachly 
 understood, it was all a sore trial for Katherine. 
 
 At last, when the manumission papers came, 
 Katherine sent LeRov, her second son, to tell 
 the negroes to come to the '^ hig- house."' 
 
 lioy ran, laughing and calling, to the negro 
 quarters. " Oh, John, Pete, Sallie, Uncle ]\lilt 
 everybody ! Father says for all of j'ou — every 
 single one — to come to the big house right 
 after supper ! Every single one ! He's got 
 something for you. Something he is going to 
 make you a present of ! I can't tell you 
 what — ouly every one will have it— and you 
 must come right away after supper ! " 
 
 " G'way fum heah, chile ! What he gwine 
 t' gib me? New yaller dress?" inquired 
 Lippy Jaue, whereupon there arose a great outcry 
 from the rest, mingled with laughter and gibes. 
 
 " I know wat he gwine t' gib Lippy Jane ! 
 
 lie gwine t' gib 'er a swing t* hang outer dat 
 
 lip, yah ! yah I yah ! " remarked Pete, and 
 
 dodged the blow that his victim leveled at him. 
 
 " New dress I Lawsy, chile, I reckon he be 
 7 
 
98 ^1^" UNOFFiriAL PATinOT. 
 
 iiio' likely ter ^-il) you a. lickiir aloiii;' \'i' dat 
 jjlattcr \(>n done l»u.^' widout ItdliiT Mis' 
 Ivate I" ])iit in Sallie. whose seeiii'e plaee in the 
 affert ions of the mistress rendered her a seyere 
 ci'itii'- of iiiannei's and morals in th(.' '■ (juarters."' 
 
 '•'Come heah, ?kIos' IJoy, hom/y, an" tell ole 
 rnc* Alilt wat 'e gwine t" q'it. AVat dat is yat 
 Mos" (irif ^wine t' ;_;'ih me? Some mo" 'er dat 
 dai- town terhaeher ? l^aws a massy, honev, 
 dat <lar las" pln^' what he foteh nii; nehl)er las" 
 ]io time ertal."" 
 
 !)Ul Koy ^\■as lii'klinn' the ear of old Phillis 
 willi a feather he had pieked up iVom the 
 grass, and the old -woman was noddinn' and 
 slapJ'in^■ at the side of her head an<l hnmorinp;' 
 the hoy in the delusion that she thou^'ht her 
 tormeiitoi' was a ily. itoy"s delight was un- 
 l)ounded. 
 
 ''(Twayfum heah, Ily I Shoo I (Tway fum 
 lieali I 1 lay dat I inash you llat "To" a nu(hler 
 minnit ! Slio-o-o I "" 
 
 IJoy and the twins w'e]'(3 eouyidsed wilh sup- 
 presse(l mirth, and Aunt Phillis slap[ted the 
 side of her head with a resounding Avlaud-: 
 ■\vhieh w"as uot only a mena('e to the life and 
 
.i:V^ UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 99 
 
 limb of the aforenanied iiisee't. Imt also. Lid fair 
 to deniolisli lier car as well. One of tlie twins 
 undertook to su})plenient the proceeding- on the 
 other ear wilh a blade of '^ fox tail,"* but found 
 himself sjirawling in front of the cabin door. 
 '■• You triflin' little nigger ! Don' you try 
 none 'er yoali foolin' wid me ! I lay I break 
 yoah fool neck I I lay T do," exclaimed the old 
 woman in vrrath. Then in a sportively insist- 
 ent tone, as she banged at the otlier side of 
 her head, '' Fore de good Lawd on high ! twixt 
 dat impei'cnt little nigger an' dis heali fly, I 
 lay I'm plum -wore out. Sho-o-o, fly ! "' 
 
 Suddenly slie swung her fat body about on 
 tlie puncheon stool and gave a tremendous snort 
 and sna})ped her teeth at the young master. 
 '' Lawsey me, hon.ey, was dat yoh all dis long 
 cum short? Was dat yo" teasin' yoah po' ole 
 Aunt Phillis wid dat fedder? I lay I gwine 
 ter ketch yo" yit, an' swaller yo' down whole I 
 I lay I is ! " 
 
 The tin-eat to swallow liim down whole 
 always gave Roy the keenest delight. He ran 
 for the big house, laughing and waving the 
 feather at Phillis. 
 
100 AX VNOFFICJAL PATJUOT. 
 
 Great was tlic spccuLuiou in tlie quarters as 
 t(i Avliat Wilis' (irif IkuI for cxcit one. 
 
 '■'' Hit's (]t.'s" hide ( 'hi'is'iiius I "' 
 
 "• I des wislii I kiiow'tMl wat T gwiiie t' git."' 
 
 "•^ Lawsev nie. but 1 wislit Iiil ^\■as arter su[)[)er 
 now I '" 
 
 111 llie twiliglit tlicv canii' swaying iij) llirougli 
 tlu' grass — a long irregular line of llicin. 'K'ny 
 liad his banjo. Maininw Sallic's ohl mother, 
 carried in her arms the A\hite l)aby. Little 
 Margaret, was lier sole eare and eliarge and no 
 more devoted lovei's existed. 
 
 ""Kt me Avide piggv baek, mammy,"* plead 
 the child. 
 
 *■' lleali, .Terrv, put dis heali elul(> on my back I 
 I>e mons'ous keerful dar now I Don" yoli let 
 dat chile fall! Dar yoli is. honey I Dar yoli 
 is ! IIol" tight, now I Hug yoali ole mammy 
 tight I D-a-t-s de way. 
 
 " ' Go down. Mosos, away down in Eij;ypt's Ian". 
 Go tell ole riiaroah, t' Id my people go.' " 
 
 Clammy l)egan to ti'ot ai^.d hum the tune for 
 the child. The swaying rhythm caught like a 
 sudden fire in a field of ripened grain. Every 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 101 
 
 voice, old and young', fell into liarmon}', and 
 Jeriy's Ikuijo l)eat its tuneful way like the ri[)[)le 
 of a stream throug'li it all. 
 
 ]Mi's. Davenport stood l)y the window Avateh- 
 ing them as they came nearer and nearer. Her 
 face was sad and troubled. She looked up into 
 the clear twilight and saw one star peer out. 
 She did not know why, but in some mysterious 
 Avay it seemed to comfort her. She smiled 
 through dim eyes at the child on mammy's 
 back. Her husband still sat by the table sort- 
 ing over some legal-looking papers. 
 
 "Are those the manumission papers, father?" 
 asked Beverly, taking one up and turning it 
 curiously. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 Beverly glanced at his father. It seemed to 
 him that the lines in his face were very sad. 
 The merry twinkle that always hid in the cor- 
 ners of eyes and mouth ^v^ere obliterated. There 
 was a settled look of anxiety. He seemed older. 
 Beverly was silent. He more nearly understood 
 what his father was doing than did even 
 Katherine. Presently he said : " Hear them 
 sing!" 
 
lOli 
 
 AX UNOFFICIAL FATIUOT. 
 
 ]\Ii'. Davenport was starinn- strai^lit Lefore 
 liiin into s})a('e. lie tui'iic(] \n lisicii. 
 
 '• IIup[)_v, rarclrss. i]i()u;_;liilcss, unfortunate 
 ereatures," lie said softly, "and as free as you or 
 I, tins minute — as free as vou or I — if only tliev 
 kiu'W it:"" then suddenly — •• Xo. not that, either. 
 'riie\" can never he /Ji'/l so Ioiil;' as thev may not 
 stay here free. e\'cn if they want to. T suppose 
 I a,m hrcakiny the law to tell them what I shall 
 to-ni^'ht, hut I c(ni't tahc tluan away from theii' 
 old home and friends and liot tell them it is for 
 q'ood aiid all — that thev ma\' not come hack. 
 Im)1' o()(,(1 and all — foi' ^'ood and all,"" he re- 
 peated, ahstractedly. After a long- pause he 
 said, '' Law or no la^^^ I cania>t do that. I must 
 tell tliem they are free hi'forc they go — and that 
 they must say g'ooddive, never to come l)ack." 
 
 '•* Seems pretty hard, doesn't it, father? But 
 then — hut — don't 3'ou think (Jod was pretty 
 Jiard on them when lie — when He made tliem 
 hlaek ? Jerry is a gentleman, if — if he was 
 not l)lack." 
 
 " CTriflith,"" asked Katherine from the window, 
 ''•how do you suppose they will take it? Fm 
 afi-aid " 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 103 
 
 "Take it! take it! Why, little woman, liow 
 would }'ou or I take freedom if it were given to 
 us ? "' The thought cheered him and he crossed 
 ihe room and tapped her cheek Avith the papers. 
 His face beamed. '' Fm prepared to see the 
 wildest outbreak of jo}'." He chuckled, and 
 some of the old lines of mirtli came back to his 
 face. " Fm glad Jerry brought his banjo. They 
 will be in a humor for some of the rollicking 
 songs afterward. I think tliey would do me 
 good too. And you, you, little woman, you 
 will need it too. You have been brave — 3-0U 
 have beeu my tower of great strength iu all this. 
 If lion had contested it, Fm afraid my strength 
 would liave given out, after all." He put his 
 arm around her. '-But God knows what we 
 can stand, Katherine, and he tempers the trial 
 to our strength. Thank God it is over — the 
 worst of it,"' he said, and drew her to him. 
 
 Suddenly this silent, self-controlled Avomau 
 threw both arms about his neck and sobbed 
 aloud. " God help us to bear it, Grifiith. 
 Sometimes I think I cannot ! It is hard ! It 
 is hard ! " 
 
 He stroked her hair silently. 
 
104 AX UXOFFTf'IAL P ATE TOT. 
 
 " JNIos' (irif. does voli want us to come in 
 er t' sta_v on de l)ig' po'ch?'" It was Jerry's 
 voice. *■' Good-el)nin". Mis' KatlTrine ! I liope 
 yoh is nionst'ons well dis ebenin". Tlianky, 
 ma'am, yes'm, I'm middlin"."" 
 
 ]\Irs. Davenport drew licrsulf farther into the 
 sliadow, lint she heai'd the little groan that 
 escaped her hushand. She understoo(L Her 
 own voice was as steady as if no storm liad 
 passed. 
 
 •'• (^pcn these larye windows on to the porcli, 
 Jerry, and your }\lo:^' (irif will talk to von 
 from here. .Tust keep them all outside. I 
 liked your song's. When AIos' Chif is done with 
 you all. sine;' some moi-e — sin^' that one he likes 
 so well — the one ahont 'Fun in de Cabin."*' 
 
 "To he sho'. Mis' Kath'rinc, to he she'. 
 Dat I will. AVhat <lat INIos' Clrif gwine ter gib 
 us? Milt he 'low dat hit's terbacker, an' 
 Lippv Jane she "low dat hit's calicker, an' John 
 he "low dat " 
 
 With the opening of the low windows a great 
 wave of '•• howd^-s " arose and a cloud of black 
 faces clustered close to the open sjiaces. The 
 moon was rising behind them and the lamp ou 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 105 
 
 the table witliin gave l)ut a feeble effort to lival 
 the mellow light outside. The master was 
 slow to begin, but, at last, when the greetings 
 were over he said, with an effort to seem 
 indifferent, " You all know that we are o-oino- 
 away from l>ere and that 3-ou are going, too ; 
 
 but "" He found the task harder than he 
 
 had expected. His voice trembled and he was 
 glad that Katherine put lier hand on his arm. 
 He shifted his position and began again. '^You 
 have all heard of freedom." He was looking 
 at them, and the faces were so blandly, blankly 
 vacant of that which he was groping for — they 
 Avere so evidently expecting a gift of tobacco, 
 or its like — that lie omitted all he had thought 
 of to say of thei]' new freedom and what it 
 could mean for them, and what it had meant 
 for him to secure it for them, and at once held 
 up the folded papers. " These are legal papers. 
 They are all registered at a court-house. I 
 have one for each one of you. These papers 
 set you free ! Thej^ are manumission papers, 
 
 and you are all to be free ! free -" 
 
 The silence was unbroken except for a slight 
 shuffling of feet, but the dire disappointment 
 
106 
 
 .LY rXOFFiriAL PATUIOT. 
 
 was (lt'[»iote<l on eviTv face, lliat was too 
 plain to l»c iiiislal-ct.'U. ( )iily })apeis I Xo 
 tohaccdl No ralico I X(»i!iiii'_;' to cat! Tlie 
 silence i^Tew uiicoiiifoilablc. Tlicv were wait- 
 iiiL;- i'or soiiictliiii^' I'oi- \\liicli tlic\- could yive 
 out the •• tliaiilvv, ^^los" (irif, tliaiiky. sir, I's 
 iniL;litv iiiiicli "lJec;_;-e(I t" yoii, I is dat I "' in 
 llieii' own lu'ai'tv and liajijiy way. 
 
 (iriliilli found liin!.>cir Iiauul;- to cx[ilain wliat 
 tliese pajici's rc_-aHv \\'ere. lie cliaiice(l to o})eu 
 .)ud\'"s lirst. lie \vould make an ol)iect lesson 
 of it. v'^lie liad Lecu Ids nurse, and was toi) old 
 and rlii-uniati'' to woik e>:ce]it as tlie spirit of 
 ()c(Ui]ialion ur^'cd \\vv to some triiliny' task, 
 (iriftitli \\'as reading- the paoei' and explaining 
 as lie went. The negroes looki'd from the 
 mastei' to Judy and l)ack again until he ^^"as 
 done. She \^'alked(. lamely to his side when lie 
 had linislied and v,as holding hci' freedom papers 
 toward hci'. She held out her hand forit. Then 
 she tore it thi'ough twice and tossed it otit of 
 the \\indow. Her eyes Hashed and she held 
 herself erect. 
 
 "What T want wid yoah oh- manuermussent 
 papers? "What I want wid *em, hey?" She 
 
^.V UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. lUl 
 
 folded lier arms. ^' 3Ie a free nigger! Me! 
 jNIus" Grif, yoli ain't neljber gwine ter lib t' be 
 ole enough t' make no free nigger out ob ole 
 Judy ! What I fotcb yoh up foil ? Didn't I 
 nus yoli fnm de time yoh was a teenchy little 
 baby, an' wasn't ole ~S[is and j-oah paw sas'fied 
 wid me? "What I done t' yoh now? Wliat fo' 
 is yoh gwine ter tun me loose dat a way ? 
 Mannermussent papers I " she exclaimed, in a 
 tone of contemptuous Avrath, '' mannermussent 
 papers ! Yoh can't mannermussent yoah ole 
 Aunt Judy ! Dej'S life lef in her yit ! " 
 
 It was done so suddenly. The reception of 
 freedom was so utterly unexpected — so opposed 
 to what he had fondly hoped — -tliat Griffith 
 stood amazed. Katherine motioned to mammy, 
 who still stood with the Avhite baby in her 
 arms. '' Give me the baby, mammy. I 
 will " 
 
 " Mis' Kate," said the old woman, turning, as 
 she pushed her way through tlie room, " Mis' 
 Kate, do- Mos' Grif mean dat yo' alls is gwine 
 ter Icahe us ? Do lie mean dat ire alls is got ter 
 be free niggers, wid no fambly an' no big house 
 au' no baby t' nus ? " 
 
108 .1-V rx OFFICIAL PATRIOT. 
 
 Slu' cliauged the cliild's ^(ositioii, and llie liule 
 soft, AN'liite cliL'fk lay eontenK'dly against tliu 
 blacl-: one. 
 
 '' "Cause, if <J((/'s wat I\I(>s' Grif mean, dis 
 lieali chile nh yoahs an' nle niamniy, deys gwine 
 t' stay togeddfi'. Dis lieali niannny don't el)en 
 ti-fch no ole nianiii'niiussent papers I Tar hit up 
 yo'se'l'. ^lis" Ivati.', kase dis lieah nigger ain't 
 el)en gwine t' tetrji hit. Slie's des gwine ter 
 put dis l)ahy ter bed lak slie alius ilone. (Jood- 
 night, Mis' Kale! (iood-niglit. Mos' (Jrif I" 
 
 Slic was hali'-way u[) the stairs, when she 
 tuined. 
 
 '' Mi.s' Kate, sunipin" er a-rmdder done gone 
 wrong Avid Mos'(irit"s haid. Slio' as yoh Ijawn, 
 honey, dat's a lark I I wisht yoh send fo" yoh 
 paw. r does dat ! " and slie ^vaddled u[) tlie 
 stairs, \\h\i the sleeping child lield elose to lier 
 faithful heart. 
 
 The reeeption of the freedom papers In' the 
 others vaiied with temperament and age. Two 
 or three o( the younger ones reaelied in over 
 the heads of those in front of them when their 
 names Avere called, and, holding tlie papers in 
 tlieir hands, ^ cut a- pigeon-wing " in the moon- 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATEIOT. 100 
 
 lii^-lit. One or two looked at their.s iu .stupid, 
 silent wonder. Jei'iy and his wife gazed at the 
 twins, and, in a half-dazed, half-shaniefaced way, 
 took theirs. Jerry took all four to Katherine, 
 " Keep deni fo' nie, please, ma'am, ]\Iis' Katli'- 
 rine, kase I ain't got no good place fer ter hide 
 "em. j\Iel)by dem dare ehillun gwine ter want 
 "em one er dese here days."' ■ 
 
 Not one grasped the full meaning of it all. It 
 Avas evident that one and all expected to live 
 along as before — to follow the fortunes of the 
 family. 
 
 '•' ThaPxky, ?\Ios' Clrif, ]nuch "bleeged."" said old 
 ^lilt, as he took his, '" l)ut Yd a heap site a-rud- 
 der had some mo' ob dat toA\n terbacker — I 
 would dat, honey." 
 
 " Give it U[) for to-night, Griffith,"" said his 
 \A'ife, gently, as he still stood hel[)lessly tryino- 
 to explain again and again. " You look so 
 white, and I am very tired. (Jive it up for to- 
 night. It will be easier after they have talked 
 it over together, perhaps — ly davliglit." 
 
 She pushed him gently into a chair and mo- 
 tioned to Jerry to take them all away. The faith- 
 ful fellow remembered, when outside, that she 
 
IIU AN UyoFFWIAL PATRIOT. 
 
 luul asked liiiii to sini;', but the ineny song .she 
 had named had no echo in the hearts al)oiU him. 
 .\11 understood that they had failed to res}»ond 
 to something that tlic nia>ter had expected. The 
 strings of liis l.)anjo I'ang out in a few minor 
 eliords, and as tlicy nioNcd to\\ard the quarters 
 an old forgotten melody lloaled Ijaeh — 
 
 O, (le shaddi'i-s am a (li'i'|i'iiiii" (in dr mountains, 
 (), dc shaddiTs am a dccp'nin' on di' .stream, 
 
 An' I Ihink 1 li-'ar an ccIki f'lim dc valley, 
 An e(di(> nh dc days oh wlurh 1 dream ! 
 
 (.)le liapi>y days ! ( »lc happy days ! 
 Befo' I knew dat sorinw eouM be hawn. 
 
 WIk'U I played wid nms'iT's ehillun in de medder, 
 "WliiMi my wuk was dmic adiocin" oli de eawn 1 
 
 Dose happy, happy days \ Di.se happy, happy days ! 
 Dey'll come again no mo', no-o-o m-o-r-e, uo more ! 
 
 Ole mos"er is a-sleepin" "neath de willuw ! 
 
 An" di' apple blossoms" fallin" im de lawn. 
 Where he used to sit an" doze lieneath its shadder, 
 
 In de days when I was hoein' oh de cawn ! 
 
 Ole happy, etc. 
 
 Dey"ll come no mo" dis side de riblier Jordan, 
 O, (ley' 11 come no mo" dis side de golden shoali ! 
 
 Foil de eliillun"s growed so big dat deys forgot me, 
 Kase I"se ole an" cannot wuk foh dem no mo' ! 
 
 Ole happy, etc. 
 
l.V UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. lH 
 
 CHAPTER Vm. 
 
 OUT OF BOXDAGE. 
 
 " Look down. Say notliin'. Few words com- 
 prehends the whole." 
 
 The long, lank mountaineer stood leaning on 
 his gnn and looking listlessl}' at the collection 
 of bundles, bags, children, dogs, guns, banjos, 
 and other belongings of the Davenport negroes, 
 as they waited about the wagons, now nearly 
 ready to start for " Washington and the free 
 States " — that Mecca of the colored race. It is 
 true that Lengthy Patterson disapproved of the 
 entire proceeding, notwithstanding his profound 
 respect for, and blind admiration of, Parson 
 Davenport, as he always called Griffith ; but he 
 had tramped many miles to witness tlie depart- 
 ure, which had been heralded far and wide. 
 Lengthy's companion, known to his familiars as 
 " Whis " Biggs, slowly stroked the voluminous 
 hirsute adornment to which he was indebted for 
 
n-2 
 
 AX rXOFFlCIAL PATlHOr. 
 
 liis iiaiiu/, •• Whislvci's ■" Itijiiiq' iLe oiig-inal ol' the 
 al)l)rcviati(»n -wliirli was iiowliis sole designation 
 — Wilis strnked liis Ijeard and ali^tiaeledly 
 kiekeil a. stray dog, A\'!iir]i ]-an, liowding, under 
 tlie nearest wagon. 
 
 '• Hit do a[)})(_'ar t" nie tliat the Pahrsou air a 
 leeth' teelied in tlie hai(h"" 
 
 There was a hmg pause. Tlie negroes h)oked. 
 as they alw.iys did, at these niounlaineers in 
 eonteni[it. 
 
 I^'iigthN' dove into a ea[>aeious |)()(dcet and 
 ]ii-o(bu'ed a: Lii'ge home-twisted liand of toliaeeo 
 and ])asse(l it in sih'Uee to Ids eoni|)aiii()ii, ^v]lo 
 gna\\'ed olT a t'onsiderahle seel ion and in silence 
 returned it to the o\vner. 
 
 "' l^(.'t"s seu"* he rt'niarhed. a.nd double(l Jiini- 
 self down o!i a log. J^englliy took' the seat Ije- 
 side Idni, and gatliered lijs ever-present gun 
 het\^'een his hmg legs and gazed into space. 
 ^Ii'. rdggs stroked his Ijeard and renia.iued 
 })lunged in dee'p thought. Idiat is to say, he 
 was evidently luider the impression that he was 
 thinking, aloeit skeptics had been known to 
 point to the dea-rtli of results in his eonversa- 
 tion, and to intimate that nature had designed 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 113 
 
 ill liiiu not !?o niucli a ihinker as an able-bodied 
 rack upon Avliicli to .sus[)end a luxuriant growth 
 of beard. He Avas known far and wide as 
 "Wilis'' Biggs; and, if there Avas Avitliin or 
 without his anatomy anything more im[)ortant, 
 or half so mueh in eyidence as was his tremen- 
 dous achievement in facial adornment (if such 
 an appendage may be called an adornment by 
 those not belonging to a reyerted type), no one 
 had eyer discoyered the fact. "What there was 
 of him, of yalue, appeared to haye run to hair. 
 The rest of him was occupied in proudlj- dis- 
 playing the fact. lie stroked his beard and 
 looked wise, or he stroked his Ijeard and 
 laughed, or he stroked his beard and assumed a 
 solemn air, as occasion, in his judgment, ap- 
 peared to require ; but the occasion always 
 required him to stroke his beard, no matter 
 what else might happen to man or to beast. 
 
 But at last the wagons pulled out. Amidst 
 shouts and " Wlioas ! "' and " Gees ! '' and 
 " G'lano-s ! " Amidst tears and laughter and 
 admonitions from those who went, and those 
 who were left behind, the strange and un- 
 accustomed procession took its course toward 
 
114 ^l-V Uy OFFICIAL PATIUOT. 
 
 the setting sun. The family drove, in the 
 okl DavL'np(.)rl l)aroucla'. far enr)nyh lichind to 
 avoid the dust i>f tlie wagons. Tlie long journev 
 was begun for master and for freedmen. Each 
 was launehed on an unknown sea. Eaeh Avas 
 tilled with apprehension and M'ith hope. Old 
 friends and relatives had gathei'ecl to witness 
 the departure, some to l)lame. some to deprecate, 
 and all to deplore the final leave-taking. 
 Comments on the vanishing pi'oeession were 
 varied and numei'ous. Tlie two mountaineers 
 listened in silence, the one stroking liis l)eard, 
 the other holding his gun. Some thought the 
 preacher undoul)tedly insane, some thought him 
 merely a dangertnis fanatic, some said he was 
 only a })lain, unvarnished fool ; s()me insisted 
 that since he had gone counter to pnljlic opinion 
 and the law of the state, he vras a criminal: while 
 a semi-silent few sighed and wished for the 
 courage and the ability to follov a like course. 
 The lirst hours of the j(jurney wvvt' uneventful. 
 There was a gloom on all hearts, which insured 
 silence. Each felt that he was looking for the 
 last time upon the valley of their love. Jerry 
 drove the family carriage. As they paused to 
 
^.V Uy OFFICIAL PATE TOT. 115 
 
 lower the check-reins at the mill stream, 
 Katherino bent siiddenh" forward and shaded her 
 eyes with her hands. ''Griffith I Griffith I 
 there goes Pete l^ack over the fields I I'm sure 
 it is Pete. No otlier negro has that walk — that 
 lope. See ! He looked back I He is running ! 
 I know it is Pete ! " 
 
 ^Iv. Davenport sprang from the carriage and 
 shouted to the fleeing man. He placed his 
 hands to the sides of his face and shouted again 
 and again. 
 
 '• Shell I run foh" *im, :\Ios' Grif ? '' asked 
 Jerrj' passing the lines to his mistress. '' I lay 
 I kin ketch 'im 'n I'll fetch ' im back, too, fo' 
 he gits to de cross-roads ! " 
 
 He grasped the carriage whip and prepared to 
 start. The shouts had served to redouble Pete's 
 speed. 
 
 " He was your negro, Katherine, shall I let 
 him go? " Griffith said in a tired voice. 
 
 " Yes, yes, oh, Griffith, let him stay in Vir- 
 ginia if he wants to. We can't have him with 
 us — why, why not let him stay here ? " 
 
 Griffith sighed. His Avife knew quite well 
 why ; but she \ras nervous and overwrought and 
 
.l.Y rXOFFfCIAL PATRIOT. 
 
 t\'ari'(l resis(a;ict! sIiduLI IV'te l)c l)r(inL;'lit to 
 bay — iiiiL;-lit li" i:(>t li^lit fcr liis fix'cdoni {o 
 iTinaiii \\lii_'r(' la' i;u'.;'!it //"/ ])o fn-c ! 
 
 'V\\L' wa'^'ons ]ia:l all sIojijxmI. ( )iio of lla^ 
 twins. Avitli a -lifU I'ai-c. raiiic ruiiniii',;- liaclc lo 
 ]'('[i(>i-t l\'!i'"s cscanc. -'.Mos" (irif, ( )li, L;)r(ly. 
 
 MosMirir: ret.' iic"s i-iui (,!'f: ret,. — •• 
 
 It was ].laiii lo It • simmi llait tin' iic^tocs were 
 restless ami ('\'[i('ctaiit. Tlii' tone a'.al alinos- 
 })lii'!-e of iiiicertaiiiU- aiiioiiL;" tlietn, tlie t>'arful 
 eyes of sonic, aii'l the suUt'ii srowl oL' olhers 
 (|iiickly (leeidiMl Mr. Dax't'iipiur. It M'as no 
 time lof indecision. Pronipt action alone 
 M'onld prevent a panic ainl a stampede. 
 Katlierine spoke a W'W liastv \\'oi-ds t() liin; as ju' 
 leaned on tlie earria',;'e-doiii'. JIc sprang' In. 
 "(ioon I" li ' sliouteil. ••(lo Oil ! A\"(' can't 
 all sto[) nou'. We must ero.^s tlie ferrv to- 
 in^'lit I "" Tlicu as a [ii'eeivution lie said to the 
 twin: "CaeU up and tell Jndy tint "S(piire 
 Nelson will L;'et Pete if Lo tries to stay here."' 
 
 ' S(piire Xelson, the terrible ! " S(piire Xel- 
 ■son I who had called l)cfore him a runawav hov 
 and ca.lnilv shot him thron.yh the leg' as an ex- 
 ivitiple to his fellows, and (lien sent liim. to the 
 
.I.Y UX OFFICIAL PATRIOT. 117 
 
 quarters to repent his rasli act — and iiieidentally 
 to act as a warning"! "S(|uire Xelson I Did 
 tlie niaimniission papers give those wlio stayed 
 behind to 'Squire Xelson ? The negroes h)()ked 
 into each otlier's faces in silent fear, and drove 
 rapidly on. 
 
 An liour later, as they were looking- at the 
 glorious sunset, and Griffith was struggling to 
 be his old cheery self, Katherine said sadly : 
 '• AVe are as mueli exiled as they, Griffith. We 
 could never come back." She choked up and 
 then, stcadving her voice, '' If you think it is 
 God's will we must submit ; but— 1jut every- 
 thing makes it so hard — so cruelly hard. I am 
 so afraid. I — no one ever — eveiy one loved 
 you l)efore, and now — no\\- — did you see the 
 faces, Griffith, when we left? Did you see 
 'Squire Xelson's face ? " She shuddered. 
 
 " Oh, is tJuft all ? " he exclaimed lightly. 
 " Is that it, Katherine? Well, don't worry over 
 that, dear. We won't be here to see it, and — of 
 course he Avouldn't like it. Of course it will 
 make trouble among his negroes for awhile and 
 I am soiTy for that. I don't wonder he feels — ■- 
 I " 
 
lis A.\ vyoFFiriAL PATiiior. 
 
 "■Dili, Oriftitli."" slic said nervously, '* \a-c are 
 not (Hit i)f llie State yet. and — and, (rril'litli,"" she 
 l()\vcre(l hrr voice t;) make sure tliat Jeri'y 
 vould not lirar, "can't the hi\\' (hi sometliinq' 
 (h'cadful to yon for leaving' Pete here, fi'ee ? 
 What can "" 
 
 ••Jei'iy. I wisli you"d drive up a little. Get 
 to the ferry l)efore it is too dark to eross, eaiTt 
 yon?'" said ( iriflith, and then, '• DoiTt woriy 
 ahont that, Katherine, Pete won't dare show 
 
 himself for a day or t\\'o. and hesides " lie 
 
 paused. Tlie silence ran into minutes. Then 
 he reaehed over and took her hand and uith 
 closed eyes he hunnued as they rode, or broke off 
 to })oint silently to some picturesque spot or 
 to whistle to a robin. There Avas a nervous 
 tension on them all. 
 
 " Mos' Grif, hit gwine ter be too late to cross 
 dat ferry to-night. .Vin't we better stop at dat 
 big house over dar ? "' 
 
 Mr. Davenport opened his e^'es. lie had 
 been humming — without time and Avith long- 
 pauses Ijctween the words — one of his favorite 
 hymns. He looked out into the twilight, 
 " That's Ferris's old mill and the Ferris house, 
 
AX rxnrFK'TAL patriot. 110 
 
 isn't it, KiitliL'rine? Yes, Jeny, call to the boys 
 to stop. We will luive to stay over. It is too 
 late to eross now. That feny isn't very safe 
 even in dayliyht." 
 
 The following morning, jnst before sunrise, 
 there was a rap at the door, and a servant eanie 
 to say that Mr. Davenport was wanted. 
 Katherine was white with fear. She sprang 
 from bed and went to the Avindow. There, in 
 front of the house, stood Lengthy Patterson, 
 gun in hand, and Ijeside liim, sullen, crest- 
 fallen, and A\ilh one foot held in his liands, 
 stood Pete. Grifiith threw open the window, and 
 Lengthy waited for no prelude. He nodded 
 as if such calls were of daily occurrence, and 
 then jerked his head toward Pete. '• Saw him 
 runnin'. Told him t' stop. He dim' out 
 faster. Knowed you wanted him." He pointed 
 to Pete's foot. It Avas bleeding. There was a 
 bullet hole through the instep. " Few words 
 comprehends the whole," added the mountaineer 
 and relaxed his features into what he intended 
 for a humorous expression. Grifiith turned 
 sick and faint. 'Squire Nelson's lesson had 
 been well learned even by this mountaineer. 
 
12(1 AX rXOFFICIAL PATUIOT. 
 
 Pelf was a (la iiy'c rolls iit-gn* tn lie witlioiil cnu- 
 ti'ol. lliat Mas true. As a iVcc n^'gi-o ]vh lit-re 
 ^\■itlll>llt lies, it M'as (inly a (jiirstioii of lime 
 A\]ifii lie \\"iiiil(l (•(iinmil sunii' ili'S|i(,M-alc dci^'d. 
 and yet ^\"llal ^\■as to Ix." d(iiit_-'.'' LtMi'_;l]iv 
 a|)[)L'ai'f(l to L;'i'as|) llii' })ix'aclH'r"s thou^lit. lie 
 slowly sralcil liiinscU' on ilic front slrp and 
 niotionci! I'rtc to sit ou tlic iriass. 
 
 "DoiTl t'rct. Take \cv time I'm a q'oin' 
 l" tiic fri-ry. I'^'W ^\■o!•ds comiirclirnds tli" 
 wIioIl',"" lir I'cmarkrd to (iriliitli. and cx- 
 amined the lock of liis L;'un. with ei'ilical dcdilj- 
 eration. WdiL'n the wa^-ons wen' readv to start 
 Jerry ^\■llis|lercd to liis niastci' that two of the 
 other yoiinL;' ne^'i'oes had rnn olf duiiii;.;' the lu^ht, 
 and yet Mr. Davenpoi't juished on. Jl was not 
 until late the next aflei'noon when the dome of 
 the C'a|)itol at A\'asliiiiyton l»nrst npon their 
 siL;ht that (ii-illilh and Kallierine l)reathed fi'ee. 
 'idle splendid vision in the distance put new life 
 and iidt'rest in the iieLj'roes. Their restlessness 
 settled into a childlike and emotional mmiy"- 
 making, and snatelies of sony, and lianter. and 
 laughter told that danger of revolt or of 
 stampede was ovei'. Judy, alone, sulked in the 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. llil 
 
 waL;'0]is, and Maniniv vented lier (lisc()]iteiit on 
 the \"()unL;'er ones 1)y woi'd and Mow, if tlie}" 
 ventured loo near lier or lier ^\•lute eliarge. At 
 last tlie LonL;' Ijrid^'e alone stood between tliein 
 and a lil)erty tliat eould not be ^-ainsaid — and 
 anotlier lilxTty for tlie master Axliieli liad been 
 so dearlv and hazardously bougdit. 
 
 The Long- IJridge Avas s[)anned and the 
 strange party di'ove down Pennsylvania .Vve- 
 iiue to the oftiee of the attorney mIio had 
 arranged for their I'ceeption. The J>ong lUidgc 
 Avas past and safety Avas theirs I Cirillith 
 giaiieed baek and then turned to h)ok. '' Kath- 
 erine," he said, smiling s;idly, ''we have crossed 
 the dead line. We are all safe I "" He sighed 
 with the smile still on his lijis. 
 
 '' It is terrible not to feel safe ! Terril,)le ! 
 Terrible I"" she said in an undertone, '• not to feel 
 safe from pursuit, fi'om behind, and from un- 
 known and unaccustomed dangers near at 
 hand — terrible ! "' 
 
 So accustomed had Griffith been to caiing 
 for and housing these negroes, who, now that 
 they were in the midst of wonders of which they 
 never had dreamed, clung to him with an abid- 
 
.l.V IWOFIKIAL l'ATi;l()J'. 
 
 iiiL;' I'aitli tliut wliatL'VL'V slionld Ix.'lide lit- ^Aoiild 
 1r' tlie'i'c til iiu't'l it for llu'iii — so accnstoiiiLiI !i:i:! 
 Ill' Itcrii ti» i-ai'iiiL;' for llifiii tlial it luul iu'\('r 
 occiiricil to (iril'lilli jmi (1(» sn. l'N'tii now wluai 
 tlu'V Wfic ]io longer ]iis. 
 
 Arc tl 
 
 IV raoiiis rfa(l\' 
 
 askrd iljL' at- 
 
 torney's ck'i'k, and sciii aU lail Maiiiiiiy to tlie 
 lulls \\liiL'li had ])L'f\i pl■o^•idL■d ou tlic out- 
 skirts. 
 
 "(lo aloUL^' \\\{]i tliis ijcntk'inaii, eliiklii'ii,'" 
 ]i(.' saiik •■Maimiiy will sl;iy w ilk us. and after 
 flerry takes us to ilie kohd ke \\ ill eoine and 
 tell you wkat else to do. ( ioo(kl)\-e .' (iood- 
 ])yc I Kee[) togelkel' unlil .Iei'r\' eoines." 
 
 .Vll \\'as luieertainty : l)ut it ^vas understood 
 Ity all tkat several of tke iiegi'Oes ^^ero to go 
 wilk tke faniilv and tke rest to remain liere. 
 Grillilk kad decided to take to kis new konie 
 Jerry and liis wife, Ellen, and tke twins; 
 ^kuumv and Judy, and, if jiossiklc, Sally and 
 Jukn. It was kere. and now. tkat lie learned 
 Ike iidiospitality of tke free states to tke freed 
 negroes. 
 
 '' T intend to take several of tkeni ^vitk nie 
 and " 
 
.-l.V UNOFFICIAL PAriUOr. 123 
 
 '' C'aif t do it," broke in the attorney, "• In- 
 diana 's a free state." 
 
 "• Well, I can take 'em along and hire 'em, I 
 reckon." 
 
 " Reckon 3'on can't — not in Indiana." 
 
 " What ! " 
 
 " I said you couldn't take 'em along and hire 
 'em." 
 
 " I'd like to know the reason for that. 
 I " 
 
 " Law. Law's against it." 
 
 Griffith drew his hand across his face as if he 
 had lost his power to think. 
 
 " You can't take antj of 'em to Indiana, I 
 tell you," said the attorney insistent!}^, and 
 Griffith seemed dazed. Then he began again : 
 
 " Can't take them ! " he exclaimed, in utter 
 dismay. 
 
 '■• That's what I said twice — can't take 
 them — none of them." 
 
 " But I shall pay them wages ! Surely I can 
 take my own choice of servants into my own 
 household if they are free and I pay them 
 wages ! • Surely " 
 
 " Surely you cminot, I tell you," said the 
 
124 ^'l-'V UNOFFICIAL PATUIOT. 
 
 attorney, and addrd dryly, 'Miot nnk'ss you are 
 particularh" aiixlous to run up ai^aJiist tlio law 
 pretty liard."' He rcaclird up and loolc (l()\\ii a. 
 leatlier-])()Uiid \i)luiiie. He turiird the U.'a\'e.s 
 slowly, and (iriflitli and Kalliei'inc looked at 
 each other in dism.ay. '' Tliei'e it is in lilack and 
 ■\yliite. Xot a mere la\\', citlicr — sonielinu's you 
 can eyade a. law, if you aic MallinL;- to risk it; 
 but from the ^yay you hotli feel ahout leaying 
 those two free nig'g'ers in A'irginia. I n'uess 3-ou 
 \yoirt l)e vei'y L^'ood suhjeets foi' that soj't of 
 thiiiL;' — thirtecnlli artiele of the coiisl itution of 
 the State itsidf." He drrw a, pencil mark ahtiiq- 
 one side of the paragraph as Griflith read. 
 '^ Oh I yon'U tind these free states have got 
 mighty little use for niggers. Ca-me here from 
 one of "em mystdf. Free or ]iot free, they don't 
 want 'em. You see," he said, slowly drawing 
 aline down the other side of the page, " tliey 
 piohihit you fiom giving employment to one ! 
 Don't propose to haye free nigger eom|)etition 
 with their A\hite laljor. Can't hlame 'em." lie 
 shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 Griflith hegan to protest. '•' But I have read 
 — I thouoht -" 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. Vlb 
 
 " Of course you thouglit — and you've read a 
 lot of spread-eagle stuff, J don't douLt. Talk 
 is one of the cheapest commodities in this 
 world ; but when it comes to acts — '' he 
 chuckled cynically, " s'pose you had an idea 
 that the border States were just holding out 
 their arms to catch and shield and nurture and 
 feed with a gold spoon every nigger you 
 Southern men Avere fools enough to set free ; 
 but the cold fact is they won't even let you 
 bring them over and pay 'em to work for 3-ou ! 
 That is one of the charming little differences 
 between theory and practice. They've got the 
 theory and you've iiad the practice of looking 
 after the niggers ! Your end is a damned sight 
 more difficult than theirs, as you'll discover, if 
 you haven't already. Excuse me, I forgot you 
 were a preacher. You don't look mucli like 
 one." Griffith smiled and bowed. Katherine 
 had gone to the front window, where INIammy 
 and the bahy were enjoying the unaccustomed 
 sights of the street. Griffith and the lawyer 
 moved toward them. 
 
 " No, sir, ■ your niggers have all got to stay 
 right here in Washino-ton and starve or steal. 
 
l-2i) AX Uy OFFICIAL PATItlOr. 
 
 Vou ciiu't lake \va to Tiidiana, that's iiiiglity 
 certain. Why, when tliat Constitution was 
 passed only a year or two ago, there wern't but 
 21,000 voters in the whole l)lessed State that 
 didn't vote to }iunish a. \Ahite man for even giv- 
 ing emplo^ynieut to a free nigger. Pul)lie senti- 
 lueiit as \\ell as law is nil against you. You 
 ean"t take those uio-gers to Indiana — tliat's cer- 
 tain : " 
 
 "• Dar now ! Dar now I wat I done tole you? *' 
 exelainied Maniniy. '• What I done tole ]Mos' 
 (irif "bout all dis htolisluiess ? Mis' Kate, you 
 ain't gwine ter "low dat is you? ]Me an" Judy 
 free niggers I Tmrn free niggers wid no 
 fand)ly I "" The tone indit'ated that no lower 
 de})lli of degradation and misfortune than this 
 eould l)e thrust upon any human lieing. 
 
 '' Ts gwine ter keep dis lieah baby, den. 
 Who gwine ter take eahr ol) her widout me?" 
 The child was patting the bhudc hu'e and pull- 
 ing the bhiek ear in a gleeful effort to call forth 
 the usual snort and threat to '' s waller lier 
 whole." 
 
 '' Bless yoah liawt, honey, yoh ain't gwine t' 
 hab no odder nus, is yo" ? Nus ! Nus ! 
 
^l.V UNOFFICIAL PAriUOT. 127 
 
 White trusli t' nu.s 1113- bal)}- ! Yoli des gwiue 
 ter lull) yoli ole mammy, dat's wat ! " 
 
 The attorney took Mr. Davenport and Kath- 
 erine to an inner office. It was two hours later 
 when they came out. Both AA'ere pale and half 
 dazed, but arrangements had been made, papers 
 had been drawn, by which the nine oldest 
 negroes were, in future, to appear at this office 
 once every three months and draw the sum of 
 twenty-four dollars each, so long as they might 
 live. The 3'ounger ones must hereafter shift, 
 as best the}- could, for themselves. The die 
 was cast. The bridges were burned behind 
 them. There was no return, and the negroes 
 were indeed, " free, town niggers," henceforth. 
 
 " God forgive me if I have done wrong," said 
 Griffith, as he left the office. " If I have done 
 wrong in deserting these poor black children, 
 for children they will always be, though pen- 
 sioned as too old to work ! Poor Mammj^, Poor 
 Judy ! And Mart, and old Peyton ! " 
 
 He shook his head and compressed his lips as 
 he Avalked toward the door, Avith a stoop in his 
 shoulders that was not there when he had en- 
 tered. All the facts of this manumission were 
 
128 .1-Y uxoFFiriAL p Armor. 
 
 so \\ lidllv ;it variaiire ^\il^l iLu eslablislicd tlR'- 
 oru's. I^\i'iT tiling- liivd ])vv]\ so (liffcrriit fitun 
 evfii ^\■llat ( nil'litli liad cxjicctcd lo iiiuct. As 
 tliey i'cuc-IiimI ilic door tin' atloriu'V took ilic 
 prolTci'cd liaiid and laug'liL'(l a little, sat irieallw 
 
 '• Now J want voii In tcU luc what good \-oii 
 ex})Oct all lliis to do? A\']iat was tlic tisc ? 
 What is gaiiird ■/ ]t"s clear to a iiian \\iih()ut a 
 spy-glass what "s /ost all around ; hut it"s o-oino- 
 to pu/./.h' a prophet to show A\here the gain 
 conu'S in. in a. i-ise like this. If youdl exeuse 
 the remark, sir, it looks like a piece of inniantic 
 tom-htolery. to a man up a tree. A Icind of 
 toiu-1'oolery, that dov's haiin all around — to 
 hlaek ;uid to A\hite, to hond and to free. Of 
 course if '/// of \'m A\'ere f'l'eeitwouhh no douht, 
 Ije l)etter. Via inclined to think that way, m}'- 
 self. lUit just tell me how many slave-owners 
 —even if thev wanted to do it — critihj do as you 
 have ? Simplv impossihle I Then, hesides, 
 Avhei'e'd they go — the niggers? Pension the 
 whole infei-nal h)t? Gad! hut il"s the dream 
 of a man who never will A\ake up to this world, 
 as it is l)uilt. ^Vnd Avhat good Iiarc you done ? 
 Just stop long enough to tell me that ; " he 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL rATUIOT 129 
 
 insisted, still hokling Giiilitirs hand. He was 
 smiling down at liis client who stood on a 
 lower step. There was in his face a tinge of 
 contempt and of pity for the lack of worldly 
 wisdom. 
 
 '^ I'm not pretending to judge for you nor for 
 other men, ]Mr. AVapley, hut for myself it was 
 wrong to own them. That is all. That is 
 simple, is it not?"' The lawyer thought it 
 was, indeed, very, very simple ; hut to a nature 
 like Grilhtlfs it was all the argument needed. 
 His face was clouded, for the lawyer did not 
 seem satisfied. Griffith could not guess 
 why. 
 
 '^ ]My conscience troubled me. I am not advis- 
 ing other men to do as I have done. Sometimes 
 I feel almost inclined to advise them not to fol- 
 low my example if they can feel satisfied not to 
 — the cost is very great — bitterly heavy has the 
 cost been in a thousand ways that no one can 
 ever know but the man who tries it — and this 
 little woman, here." He took her hand and 
 turned to help her into the carriage. 
 
 '' Ah, Katherine, you have been very brave ! 
 
 The worst has fallen on you, after all — for no 
 9 
 
130 AN rXOFFICIAL I'ArilloT. 
 
 sense of imjieralive duty uri;'e(l you on. For 
 ?//// sake 3'ou have ^'iclded ! Ilrr bravery, sir, 
 lias Ijeeii doulile, and it is almost more than I 
 can Ix'ar to ask il — to accept it — ol' her I For 
 my own sak'e I It has Ijcen stdlish, in a sense, 
 selfish in mc."' 
 
 Katherine smilcfl throucj'h dim eves and 
 pressed her lips hanl tou'ether. She did not 
 trust herself to s[)eak. She l)o\\-ed to the 
 attorney and turned toward Mammy and the 
 baby as they stood l)y the carriage door. 
 
 " Fm a-goin' wid yoli alls to de hotel, ain't I, 
 i\Iis' Kath'rine ? Dar now, honey, des })ut j'oali 
 foot dar an' in yoh goes ! Jerry, can't yoli hoi' 
 dem bosses still ! WIkki, dar ! Whoa ! Mos' 
 Beverly, he radder set in front Avid Jerry, an' I 
 gwine ter set inside A\"id de babv, an' yo' alls." 
 
 The old woman l)ustled al)out and gave 
 orders until they M'ere, at last, at the door of 
 the Metropolitan, where, nntil other matters 
 were arranged, the family Avould remain. 
 
 Strange as it may seem, to save themselves 
 from the final trial of a heartbreaking farewell, 
 from protests, fi'om the sight of Aveeping 
 children and excited negroes, three days later 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATUIOr. \?,\ 
 
 Mr. Davenport and his family left by an early 
 train fur the west hefore the negroes, aside from 
 Jerry, knew that they were gone. And in tlie 
 place of the spectacle of a runaway negro 
 escaping from white owners, the early loungers 
 heheld a runaway white family escaping from 
 the galling bondage of ownership ! 
 
132 AX J'xnrrn/iAi. rATUior. 
 
 iWWVV.W IX. 
 
 "Our Im;ii-Ii .,r iia'iir.'.""— s7/.'/,-r,x;,,-,o-''. 
 
 As lime M'oi'c oil till' fauiih" Imd, in some soi't, 
 at U-ast, adjusti'd Jl^clf to the new order of 
 niiiiL;-s. Tlio (liak'i't of tlic .stra})piiig Irisli- 
 Avomaii \\lio presided over tlie kitelieii of the 
 small luit eoiiiforialile new lionu'. and tlie no less 
 imaeenstomed s[)ee(/li of the natives, themselves, 
 weic a iieAer failing' soni'ce of amusenieid to the 
 ehildi'en and, indeed, to ( iriflilh himsidf. His 
 old s[iirits seemed to I'etnrn as he M'onhl repeat, 
 \\ilh his heartv lan^h, tin,' vilhe^X' gossip, 
 couched in the village forms of speeeh. 
 
 Ivieh (Liv as he opened his Cnic'tuuatl Gazette 
 lie wonld laugh otit some l)it of town news \A"hieli 
 lie had overheard at the post-oiliee or on his way 
 liome. The varving forms of pentiriousness ex- 
 hibited in the dealings hetweeu the farmers and 
 the villagers impresse<I hinr as most amtising of all. 
 The haggling over a few cents, or the payment 
 
AX UXOFFICIAL FATEIOr. 133 
 
 of money between neighbors for fruit or milk or 
 services of a nature wliirh lie liad always looked 
 upon as ordinary neiglil)orly courtesy, filled liim 
 Avilh rnirtli. One day, shortly after their arrival, 
 Beverly had brought his mother a dozen 
 peaches from a neighljor's yard. The boy had 
 su[)posed when asked if his motlier vould not 
 like them that they were intended as a present, 
 lie thanked the own.er heartily and said that he 
 was sure his mother would very greatly enjoy 
 them. 
 
 " After he gave them to me," the boy said, 
 indignantly, ' Six cents wnth, an' cheap at 
 that ! ' says he, and held out his hand ! Well, I 
 could have fainted ! Selling twelve peaches to 
 a ncio'hbor I Wiiy, a mountaineer wouldn't do 
 that ! And then he had asJced me to take 
 tliem ! I laid ten cents in my pocket and I 
 ] landed it to him and walked off. He yelled 
 something to me about change, but I never 
 looked back." 
 
 Ilis father enjoyed the joke, as he called it, 
 immensely. He chuckled over it again and 
 again as he sat in the twilight. 
 
 One clay late in that summer — the summer of 
 
]:!4 .l.V rXOFFlCIAL PATllIOT. 
 
 ">'>" — {]\c. cliilclix'u wiTC attract(,Ml l)y a y'lx'at 
 iipi'oai' ;iii(l iKiise in tlio street. .\ group of 
 f^rliodl cliildreii, some street luaiei's, and a few 
 luatiu'e l)ut curious, L;ro\vn citizens wei'e 
 g'atliered al>out anoliject in tlie middle of tlio 
 street. I Toots and sliouts of derision went up. 
 ^V ]i;df-\vitted g'irl eii-cled slowly about tlie 
 outskii'ts (if tlie crowd making aimless motions 
 and passes witli her Lands toward the ol)ject of 
 interest. A'oices clashe(l with voices in an 
 effort to gain coherent sound aud sense. Was 
 it a bear or a hand organ ? The children ran to 
 see. Beverly followecl more slowly. I>everly 
 seemeil a young man now, so sedate and digni- 
 lied was this oldest son. 
 
 '^ What is it ? "' 
 
 " Look out there ! Look out there ! It's 
 going that ^vay ! ' 
 
 '^ What ? What you say ? Who ? "' 
 
 "Who is ]Mosgrif? No man by that name 
 don't live here."' 
 
 " Xio-nrer, ni^'crer, inill a trigger, never grow 
 an inch a bigger ! " 
 
 " Get her some soap ! Let's take her and give 
 her a wash ! " 
 
A^^ UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 135 
 
 '^ What ? Who ? Shut up your noise there, 
 will you, Dave Benton. She's askin' fer some- 
 body — some feller she knows. Wlio ? " 
 
 There was a pause in the progress of the pro- 
 cession as it reached jSIr. Davenport's side 
 gate. Beverly was craning his neck to see over 
 the heads of the crowd. His two brothers took 
 a su]'er method. They dodged under arms and 
 between legs and were making straiglit for the 
 center of the crowd where they had lieard an 
 accustomed A^oice. 
 
 '^ What I axes yo' alls is, whah's my ]\Ios' 
 Grif ! Dey done tole me down yander dat he 
 lib down dis a-way. Whah's my Mos' Grif's 
 house ? I got ter fine my ]\Ios' Grif ! " 
 
 " Aunt Judy ! Aunt Judy ! " shrieked the 
 two younger boys, in mad delight. " It's Aunt 
 Judy ! Oh, Beverly, come quick ! She's hurt ! 
 She's been struck with a rock ! Come quick — 
 quick ! " 
 
 LeRoy had reached the old woman, Avho be- 
 gan to tremble and cry as soon as she felt that 
 friends were indeed near. She threw her arms 
 about his neck and half-sobbed with joy. Then 
 she tried to pick up the younger boy in her 
 
136 -l-Y Uy OFFICIAL PATRIOT. 
 
 arms, as of old, l)ut licr strength gave A\av, and 
 slie fell on her knees hesid;,- hrr l)un(lle and 
 stick. \ langliing siiont \\-ent np. Dave lieu- 
 ton shi(_'d a small stone at lier. 
 
 "•'How dale you I How dare vou ! you com- 
 mon loafers I "" slnieked LidJov. Mhite with 
 rage. lie struck out \\\{\\ hoth lists at those 
 Avho M'ere nearest. "How dare you throw 
 at iVunt Judy! Wow dare you, ^'ou low- 
 down I "' 
 
 A\'ords failed him, and he was choking with 
 rage, ])ut Lolh tists A\ei'e liuding a mark on ilio 
 visage of the pi'ostrate Dave. Ilis hsls and the 
 astoinshment hdt at llie sight of while cliildreii 
 cai'cssing an<l calling the old hlack creature 
 ''aunty " had sei\'ed to (dear a space ahout 
 thi'm. I'^very one had hdlen l)aek. Tlie half- 
 M'itted girl alone I'eiiiained with ihe center- 
 group, making alndess passes, with ill-regulated 
 hands, at ^Vunt Ju(h-. So ahsorhing was this 
 strange creature to the 1)ewildered senses that 
 not even the struggling hoys ou the ground at 
 lier feet served to divert her gaze from the old 
 Ijlack face. 
 
 *' J lis aunt's a. nigger ! " 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 137 
 
 '' Kissed her, l)y gum I " 
 
 " Tliej-'re the A'^irginia preacher's kids ! " 
 
 " Never knew before that some of their kin 
 was niggers ! " 
 
 Dave Benton was now on top, and Howard 
 was pulling at his leg in an effort to help his 
 brother. Suddenly Roy swirled on top and 
 grasped the helpless Dave Ijy the tliroat. 
 
 " You let her alone, you dirty little — devil ! " 
 he ground out between his teeth, " or I'll kill 
 
 you ! 
 
 His rage was so intense, his face was so set 
 and livid, tluit it looked as if he might execute 
 the threat before the astonished and half-amused 
 bystanders realized the danger. Beverly sprang 
 to the rescue. lie had luistled Judy through 
 the side gate and into the house with Howard. 
 
 " LePvoy ! LeRoy ! stop — stop ! Get up ! let 
 go ! Get up this instant ! " he commanded, loos- 
 ening the boy's grasp. " Look at that blood ! 
 Father will be so ashamed of you ! " 
 
 He pushed the boy ahead of him and the door 
 closed behind them, leaving a hooting mob out- 
 side and Dave Benton with a bleeding nose and 
 a very sore head. 
 
138 
 
 .l.V Uy OFFICIAL PATIIIOT. 
 
 " Got a nigyt-^'i' fi-r a ant. ]>y ynsli I "' cxclaiine*! 
 one, a>; tliey tui'iicd .slowly away, leaving tlic 
 weak-niiii(lr(l gui aloiio rii-diiiL;' alioiit the q-atc, 
 making inarticnlate noises ami movements of 
 indirection at tlie liouse and its enrii.ius and un- 
 canny new oeeii[jant. 
 
 lint l^dioy's lilows and liis taunts liore fruit 
 in due season. A week latei', Dave Ijenton's 
 father, -wlio had nui'sed liis wrath, caused serv- 
 ice to lie made u[ion ?\rr. l)aven_[ioil to sliow 
 cause why he Mas not infringing \\\v law and 
 the State constitution l)y keeping in liis service 
 a free negro. Mr. Davenpoi-t ex|ilaine(l to the 
 court tliat lie liad not hrouglit Jier into tlie State 
 and was in no way responsihle for her having 
 come. Indeed, .luil\' A\"ouM not or (/oidd not 
 tell exactly how slie had managed it lierself. 
 That she liad keen helped forward \)y some one 
 seemed evident. lint (irilliiirs plea v^ould not 
 suilice. She was here. lie \\as avowe(lly the 
 cause of lier coming. She was a free negro. lie 
 was giving her employment. 'Jdiat was against 
 the State constitutiou. Cleaily, she must be 
 seut away. Griilitli consulted witli a lawver. 
 The lawyer gravely stated, in open court, tliat 
 
.l.Y UNOFFICIAL PATBIOT. 139 
 
 the old negro was a guest, and not an employe, 
 of the Davenport family. The jndge smiled. 
 There was no law, no constitutional provision, 
 no statute to prevent a family from having ne- 
 gro guests in Indiana ; provided they would 
 give bond for the good hehavior during life, and 
 burial in case of deatli, of such guest ! 
 
 " -^ J gum ! I reckon she is kin to 'em, shore 
 'nuff ! " remarked Dave's father, softo voce. 
 " Wonder which one's sister she is — her'n or 
 his'n ? " 
 
 "•Do' knoAv, but it's one er t'other; fer all 
 three o' the boys call her ant, 'n" the little gal, 
 too. She rides on her back. Seen her out in 
 the yard t'other day." 
 
 " 'Fore rd let one o' mine kiss a nio-crer 'u' 
 ride on her back ! " 
 
 "Well, 7 should smile!" 
 
 " Sh ! What's that the jedge said ? " 
 
 " Goin' t' take it under 'dvisement, perviden' 
 Davenport agrees t' bind hisself — give bon'." 
 
 And so it came al)Out, as I told you in the be- 
 ginning, that this man, who was already a law- 
 breaker in his native State, unblushingly be- 
 came a law-evader in the State of his adoption ; 
 
140 ^-1^^ UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 
 
 for llie papci's \Vfru duly drawn up and iinally 
 .si^-iii'd and executed. Aunt Judy was (il'lieially 
 and IfLi'ally deelai-ed not to he eni|ili)Ved 1)V, l.»ut 
 to 1)e a. visitor in. tlie family: '• and. fui'tliennore. 
 it is deelai'ed and a;_;-ieed. tliat, in ease of lierlje- 
 eoniiny indigent, w in ease of her deatli ^\"llile 
 \\itliiii tlie lioi'ders ol' ilie State, the aforenamed 
 liev. (iriflilli Davenport hinds himself, liis lieirs 
 and assi^'us, to suppoi't while living', or hury in 
 ease of the death of tlie aforenamed Jud\' Dav- 
 en[)ort (colored); and. fnrlhermoi(.'. ae'rees 
 tliat she shall in no manner Mhalsoever Ix'- 
 come a charge upon the Slate of Indiana. 
 The ex;[)enses of this procedure to 1je paid, also, 
 hy the said Wvx. ririflilh Davenport." 
 
 '" T ret'kou my conscience is getting a little 
 tough, Katherine," said her hushand, smiling, 
 that night as he recited the matter to the 
 family. " I signed that paper with precious 
 little compunction — and yet it u'i(>i evading the 
 law, pure and simple — so far as the intent goes I 
 Fancy Aunt Judy looking u})on luu'self as a 
 guest of the family ! lla ! ha I ha! lia ! "" The 
 idea so anuised him that he laughed upr(Xiriously. 
 Five minutes later there floated out on to the 
 
.i:\^ Uy OFFICIAL PATinOT 141 
 
 poix'lu A^'liere Ju<ly .s:it with tlie eliiklren telling 
 tliein Avondcrful tales of Wasliinyton, the notes 
 of " Joy to the Avorld ! The Lor<l lias come I" 
 
 '• De (/0(>(I La.w(.l, Lless iii\' soul I '" exelaimed 
 the ohl woman, listening, "I ain't heerd nothiu' 
 so good as dat sonn' ter nie, sense yo' alls 
 runned away I Dat slioly do soun" like ole 
 times ! Hit sholy d(.) ! " 
 
 Rosanna, the Irish cook, sniffed. She Avas 
 hanging out of the kitchen window listening to 
 aunt Judy's tales of adventure. '' She do talk the 
 quarest, schure, an' it's barely tlie rear av her 
 remarks thet a Christian can understhand ; " 
 mumbled Kosanna to herself. 
 
 " Well, but how about the twins. Aunt Judy? 
 You said you'd tell us all about the twins just 
 as soon as supper was over. Now, hurry, or I'll 
 have to go to bed,'' urged Howard. 
 
 The old woman shifted around in her chair to 
 make sure the ears of Rosanna were not too 
 near and lowered her voice to a stage whisper. 
 
 " Hone}', dem dar twins is des so spilt dat 
 dey is gettin' taint}' ! '' 
 
 " Bad, you meaii ? " asked Roy. 
 
 "• Dat's wat I said, an' dat's wat I sticks to. 
 
14-J .1-V J'XnFFIClAL I'ATIIIOT. 
 
 Dcv's .so sjiilto (lev's t;inU\'. liad I Why bad 
 aiiTt ]io nanu' To" liit. Dcy is mouldy. I)e 
 onlk'st reason \\\\\ dcv aiiTl in tin' lo(k-U[) is 
 kase dev ain"l yot Ivt-tclifil u[> \\id \\{. I^ey 
 c^'wine ler git dar, slio" as yoli bawn. I^ey is 
 
 dai : •' 
 
 '' I dou'l bi'lieve il. I doiri l)(diL'Yf the twins 
 are so Lad. You are just mad at "em. 
 Tliev "" llt>\' was always a, partisan. 
 
 ^ Look a. la'ah. lioni'v. ^•oh don't know Avliat 
 yoh's talkin' "l)out. I )em twins is j)Ium spilte, 
 I tell yoli. fJerrv. he's a tfamln" an" he ean"t 
 Avatch "em, an" di'V maw she"s a wuekin" fo" one 
 er dem Conyressers, an' di'in twins is des plum 
 run Avile."' 
 
 '' Peihaps you expect too mueli of the morals 
 of WashiuL^'ton,"" suggested Ueverly, winking at 
 Rov to give tlu' old woman full sway. 
 
 *•' jMo'Is I nio'ls ! Why, lawsy. honey, yoh 
 don" know what yoli talkin" "bout no mo" dan 
 i\Ios" I{oy do. Dev ai)t't no mo'ls in Wasliin'- 
 ton — white iter black. ^leljlw dem dar folks 
 had some "fo dcy cum dar; but dey sholy did 
 leave de whole lot back in de place whali dey 
 cum fum ! Dey sholy did dat. j\Jo"ls ! In 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 143 
 
 Wasliiii'ton ? Dey ain't none dar ! "' She 
 shook her finger at Beverly. 
 
 Roy saw his opportunity as she started for the 
 door to shut off further questions. " Oh ! go 
 away, Aunt Judy, you don't know what morals 
 are,"' he said, "-that's all. In Washington they 
 are government property' and they keep 'em in 
 tin cans. Of course you didn't see any." 
 
 " Dey dun los' de opener t' dat can, too," she 
 remarked, hobbling up the steps. ]\Iany and 
 blood-curdling had been her stories of life at 
 the capital. In her opinion, the seat of govern- 
 ment had no redeeming equalities. ''Stay dar? 
 Why, dis chile wouldn't stay dar fo' no 'mount 
 o' money, ner fer nobody. She's got too much 
 self-'spect fer dat, de good Lawd he do know. 
 Stay dar? No, sah!"* 
 
 " Well, the others are getting along all right, 
 I'll bet you," piped up Howard, as her foot 
 struck the top step. She turned. 
 
 " I ain't gwine ter tell yoh no mo' to-night. 
 I'se gwine ter bed ; but wat I knows is des dis : 
 De way dey gets 'long, dey goes t' dat dar Mr. 
 Lawyer an' gits dat money Mos' Grif done lef . 
 De f us' mont' dey sholy dus lib high ; de nex' 
 
144 .1-V rXOFFK'IAL PATRIOT. 
 
 inoiir (ley sorter srial)bl(_'s ciiong', an' do las' 
 niont' i\r\ slidly is liawd times. Dey ain't n»^ 
 nse talking, i\r\ sli(.)l\' is dal ! X<»w I'm des' 
 g'\\'in(_' ill "n ta]-;c ;i gdoil hi^' jorumof }i('psissi\\'av 
 for my stumnuck, 'n t^'it erloiiy ter mv biMl, fore 
 de rustei's '^in ter erow fer mawnin'."' ^\nd slie 
 disap[)(_'a.i'(Ml in the darl-;ness, sliaking- her head 
 and reileratiny tlie refrain, as to the badness of 
 tliose twins. 
 
 The story of Annt Judy's travels, in so 
 far iis she vouehsal'ed to tell them and not 
 to res(jrt to fietion ()r silenee — her advent- 
 ures l)y land and water, Ijy Avagon and 
 rail, in seareh of •• Mos' ( irif," spread far and 
 wide. The ohl woman could not set her 
 foot outside of tlie door ^yitllout a following of 
 Ijtivs and girls, and, as a faithful liistorian, it 
 would little avail me to omit, also, of men and 
 of women, \\\\o hooted, stared at and otherwise 
 indicated that she was less tlian human and 
 more tlian curious. She was tlie jiariali of the 
 village, all)eit LeRoy's lists had done their per- 
 fect A\ork in that she was no more st(Mied. But 
 she was content — so, at least, she asserted — and 
 not even the longing for Jerry and Ellen and 
 
.-IX UNOFFICIAL PATIUOT. 145 
 
 those badly-spoiled twins (of Avlioni she never 
 tired talking) served to convince her that there 
 could be, on all this green earth, any home for 
 lier except, alone, the one that sheltered " Mos' 
 Grif an' jMis' Kath'rine an' dat blessed baby," 
 now grown too large to be a ba1)y longer except 
 alone to this loving old soul, to whom, forever, 
 she was " my baby." 
 10 
 
14n .1Y rYOFFTCTAT. PATE TOT. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 " To tliino own self be Iruo." S!inl-r.spearc. 
 
 Thei:e had ])vcn a l>riglit side for ririlTilli 
 in all this eiiaiigf, too. Xcw and Mann friends 
 had been made. Tie had watdicd with a feel- 
 ing of joy tlie enervating- inllueiiee of slave 
 o\vnt'rslii[i di-op from Ileverly's young shonlders 
 — and Ujion the other l)oys lie felt tliat it liad 
 never east its Idight with a [)ower that ^\'onld 
 ontlast early }'onth. It tilled him ^\'itll pleasure 
 to tlnd his sons surroundeil in the academy and 
 college witli the mental atmosphere and influ- 
 ence of freedom, only. lie encouraged tliem to 
 join the debating societies and Greek letter 
 orders which admitted discussion of such topics. 
 Beverly was now in Ids Sophomore year and was 
 an ardent stndent of free-soil doctrines. lie 
 read and al^sorbed like a fresh young sponge the 
 political literature of the time. He Avas always 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 147 
 
 read}' and eager to enter the debates of his ehiss 
 upon the ever pregnant and alwa^-s recurring 
 shivery extension and compromise bills. The 
 young fellows had numerous hot arguments over 
 the position of the different statesmen of the 
 time, and Ste[)hen A. Douglas furnished Bev- 
 erly with many a hard hour's thinking. i\Ir. 
 Davenport adhered to Douglas ; but Beverly 
 inclined to persistently o[)pose his point of 
 view. When, at last, Douglas had taken the 
 side of repeal in tliat famous measure — the 
 Missouri Compromise Bill, which had l^een at 
 once the hope and the despair of all the great 
 northwest, — Beverly no longer hesitated. He 
 and his father took different sides, finally and 
 forever, in their political opinions. At com- 
 mencement time, year after year, the governor 
 of the State was made the feature of the college 
 exercises, and he had several times been the 
 guest of Mr. Davenport. This had served to 
 draw to the house many politicians whose talks 
 had o'iven both stimulus and material to 
 Beverly's already ardent political nature, which 
 was so fast leading him outside the bounds 
 readied by his father. The scope and class of 
 
148 -l-V rxOFFiriAL rATUloT. 
 
 ]iis reading' dftiMi 1i'()ul)li'il Lis motlicr sorely- 
 (^iK' (lay sIk' liad l;-oiic lo (iriHiilL in disma,}'. 
 It was SI) scliloin tliat slir fi'lt (>l)li;_;'((l t'.> crit- 
 icisc tills (.•]<li.-si soil (if lici's. ujiDii wlioiii slie 
 loolvcd willi a pride aliiio^l licyoiid words {o 
 (.'X|ircss, tlial (irii'lilli \\'as asloni^licil. 
 
 '' 1 wisli. (irii'lilli. Ilia! \nii wduld tdl Pxjverly 
 not to read lliis liook. Il is llio st/coiid tinu.; I 
 liavc told liini and lie is dt.'tt.'iauliKMl. I l)urn(.'(l 
 tliu lirst C'opv and lie lias liDii^lit another. lie 
 sa-vs lie will liin-lift\- if I Imrn iIr'hi l)i.-f(.)re he 
 has read il all. lie is that (h^'terniined to read 
 il. I hated lo tell yon, hnt "" 
 
 ririlTith held out his hand for llu,' ohnoxious 
 liook. Then he exidainu'il in snr])rise: "The 
 ' Age of Reason " I I'aine's liook I AVhere did he 
 happen to get that '/ '" He looked over the title 
 pag-e. 
 
 '' T see, I see I ' liights of ?klan " — he quoted 
 from that in liis last essay at eoUege. It was 
 good, too — exeelk'iit. I've never read either 
 one, l)ut — oh, tut, tut. mother, why not let hini 
 read it? T wouldn't worry over it. Beverly is 
 all right. He has got a hetter mind than you 
 have— a far hetter one; \]\:ui I have— whv not 
 
.l.V UNOFFU'TAL PATIUOT. 149 
 
 let lum use it? Let liim read anything lie 
 wants to. We can't judge for hhn. He'll Le 
 all light anyho\y. You know that. He and I 
 differ in politics now. lie is going the radical 
 road and I'm staying by the old line whigs ; l)ut — 
 oh, tut, tut, Katherine ! let's not hamper the 
 boy's mind with our notions to the extent of 
 forcing them on him. It won't do a bit of good 
 if we try it either. That's not the kind of a 
 mind Beverly has got — and suppose it was, what 
 lio'ht have we to warp and limit its action?" 
 He was turning over the leaves. " I've never 
 read this myself." Then looking up suddenly : 
 " Have you ? " 
 
 '' Xo, of course not I But my father forbade 
 our boys reading it. He said it was a fearful 
 book — intidel " She broke off, but stam- 
 mered something about Beverly's salvation. 
 Griffith drew her down on his knee. 
 
 " Madam Kath'rine," he said, quizzically, " if 
 I had followed my father's conscience instead of 
 my own, I never would have "—he was going 
 to say seen her, but he recognized in time that 
 that might hurt her — " I never would have 
 done a good many things that have seemed 
 
150 -l-V rXoFFKIAL PATUIOT. 
 
 Y\'j\\i to nil — ''//'' only right tilings for my soul. 
 So long as lieverlv is open and frank and true 
 to liinisclf — and lit' lias always huen that — I 
 niean to let liini alone. T am sure lliat I found 
 a good deal Ix'tter AA'ay for myself than my 
 father had mark(.'d out for me. Perhaps De^- 
 erl\- will. Suppose \\'e trust him. lie has lieen 
 surli a good son — su(di a frank fello^v; don't 
 let us make a pretender of him. Let him read 
 whal he does optMily. \ ou may he very sure if 
 it looks Avrong to him he won't iraiit to he open 
 M'ith it. I don't want to hurt l^everly as my 
 hither, dear soul, huil me — inteUiding it fur my 
 own good, of eeuirse ; hut — hut — ean't you trust 
 JJeverly, Ivallierine '/ I ean. And maj'he, after 
 all, people have not understood this book. 
 Leave it here. I believe Lll read it myself." 
 
 Katherine was astonished, Init the little talk 
 rested and helj»ed her. That night the book 
 was on Beverly's table again and nothing was 
 said oi it. Beverly had joined his father's 
 eliureh when lie was a little fellow, but since 
 he entered eoUege he had seemed to take slight 
 interest in it. He was always present at family 
 prayers, but said uothing about liis religious 
 
AN rXOFFIf'IAL rATlUOT. ]51 
 
 views of late. A year ago he liatl been repii- 
 iiianded, in eonipaiiy witli otliers, by the h^eal 
 preaeher for attending- a soeial dance. That 
 night he said to Roy : "■ The lii'st time a danc- 
 ing teacher comes to tliis town I am going to 
 take k'ssons. Look at tliose Lonisville Ijoys in 
 my class and in yonrs, too. They are twice as 
 easy in their manners as any of the rest of us. It 
 is their dancing that did it. Tliey tokl me so." 
 
 "• Mr. Brooks will turn you out of the church 
 if you do," said Koy. 
 
 " Father wouldn't," replied Beverlj^, whis- 
 tling — ''and father is good enough for me." 
 
 But, since there had been no opportunity to 
 fulfill the threat, the little matter of the social 
 dance had blown over, and Beverly was still, 
 nominallv, a memljer of the ^Methodist Church. 
 
 The days passed. The political crash was 
 upon the country. Men met only to talk of 
 free-soil and slave extension, of union and 
 disunion, of repeal, and even, in some quarters, 
 of abolition. Young men's blood boiled. In 
 Legislature and Congress feeling ran to blows. 
 The air was thick and heavy with threats of — 
 no one knew what. Old friendships were 
 
ir)-2 .l.V rXOFFIClAL PATHIOT. 
 
 liroki'ii ;iii(l ]u_;\v ones .straiiuMl iiiio real (.■iiniily. 
 IJrolluTs todk (liri'ci't'iit sides. l'^tlli(/rs and 
 sons l)eTanie l)iUrr. Xci^'ldior Ionised \\-iili sus- 
 ])icion uptin luML^liltor. ('olli'i^e iVateniitK's 
 lajised into |iiiliiical clidis. It \\;is now I>cv- 
 erly's last }"cai-. His favoi'ilc professor (]icd. 
 rhii'lilli noti(;ed tlial the l)oy was restk-ss and 
 aljstracted. ( )ne da\ lie canic to liis father. 
 
 '' Fallier,'" lie said, a])ni|il]y, •• I <lon"t feel as 
 if I on^lit to waste any leore time at eolle^-e. 
 There is a. treniendoirs n}iheaval just ahead of 
 lis. Coidd yon — woidd \'on jnst as soon I 
 shonhl ■/ — Tve L;(>t an offer A\'ith two of the 
 other fellows, and I "" 
 
 'Sli. l)a.\'enport reeog-nize(l in the l)ov\s uii- 
 usnal hesitaiiey of speeeli an linaeeustonied 
 (jiiality of unrest and iiiieertainty. He hjoked 
 over his o-oldd.)o\-\-ed glasses. 
 
 '• Why, A\ hat is it, son ? Out with it," lie 
 said, smiling. 
 
 " Well, it"s like this: You reinemher vShap- 
 leigh, of the ehiss last year? Well, you know 
 his father owns that little free-soil paper r»ut in 
 Missouri that I get every once in a Avhile. It's 
 democratie, you know, but free-soil." 
 
.-l.V UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 153 
 
 Griflilli ]io(1(1lm1. '' ^'eiy good little papei', 
 too. Don't fullv agree M'itli those last edito- 
 rials — too iieiy — l)iit a veiy dc'ceut little sheet." 
 
 Beverly was evidently pleased. 
 
 "Well, the old gentleman is tired of the 
 fight, and Sliap wrote nie that if Donaldson and 
 I will each pnt in •'irl.oOO. his fatlier will tnrn the 
 paper over to the three of us. Slia}) knows liow 
 to run the Ijusiness end of the concern. Tliat's 
 what he has done since he was gradttated. 
 Shap wants me for political editor, mostly. 
 He's a red-hot fi'cc-soiler, and he knows I am. 
 I sent him my last two speeches and he used 
 'em in the paper. He says tliey took like wild- 
 fire ; his constituents liked 'em first-class. You 
 know, I've always thotight I'd like to be a 
 newspaper man. Think so more than ever 
 now. Times are so hot, and there is such a lot 
 to be said. The}" need new blood to the front, 
 and "' 
 
 Griffith was laughing gently and looking 
 quizzically, with lips pursed up, at this ambi- 
 tious son of his ; but the boy went on : 
 
 " The fact is, fatlier, I've worried over it all 
 this term. I hated to ask you if you could let 
 
154 AX UXOrFKIM. I'ArniOT. 
 
 iiK' liiive tlie moiu'v. It is sucli a splfiidid 
 cliaiiee — one nf a lilV'tiiUL', I tliiiik. I do wish 
 you'd k't inc."' 
 
 .Vt last lie liad fallen into his l)oyish form of 
 Speech, and (iril'lilli laughed alond. 
 
 *•' Zc/' you ■/ iy'/yiiu he an e(litor of a fiery 
 free-soil jiaper out in Missoui'i, hey ? U'lie fel- 
 low that edits a |»a[)er out thei'e just now ean't 
 he made out of very meek stuff. Uev. It won't 
 ])e a nest of roses for any tliree young- hirds that 
 try it, T iveki^n. D'ycli see that aeeount in the 
 G(izi'ih\ yesterday, of tlie mol) out there near 
 Kansas ("ity ? " 
 
 " Yes, I did : and thal's tlie veiy thing tliat 
 decided me to ask }'ou to-day. Of course, 
 you'd really own tlie stoek. It ^vould only he 
 in m^-name till I eould pay you h)r it, and "" 
 
 " Beverly,'' said his father, gravely, " if 
 3'ou've made up yviw mind fully to this thing, 
 and are sure you know A\hat you Avant and can 
 d(», I ]'eekon vou don't iieed to worry over the 
 money for the stoek. But are you xure you 
 Avant to leave college Ijefore you llnish ? Isn't 
 it a little ]^)remature ? " 
 
 lie did not hear his son's reply. It came 
 
.LV UNOFFICIAL FATIUOT. 155 
 
 suddenly to his iniiid that this bo^- of his Avas 
 almost exactly the age that he had heen wlien 
 he had tried to argue his own ease with tlie old 
 ]Major. It rushed into his thoughts how hard 
 it had been to ap[)roaeh the topic nearest his 
 heart, and how cruelly it liad all ended. He 
 realized, as he often did these days, \\o\w l;)03dsh 
 and immature he must have seemed to his 
 father, and yet how tragically old he had felt 
 to himself. He wondered if Beverly felt that 
 w-ay now. He Ijegan to realize that the boy 
 was still talking, arguing and planning, al- 
 though he had not heard. 
 
 " Bev," he said, gently, using the abbrevia- 
 tion instinctivel}' to make the boy feel the ten- 
 derness of his intent — '' Bev, I don't intend to 
 aro-ue this thine;' with vou at all.'' 
 
 Beverly had misunderstood his father's long 
 silence and abstraction. The remark confirmed 
 his misconception. He arose, disappointed, and 
 started for the door. Griilith reached out, 
 caught him by the sleeve, and pulled him into a 
 chair beside his own. 
 
 " I want to tell you sometliing, Bev. When 
 I was about your age — maybe a little younger— 
 
15G .4.Y rXOFFiriAL PATIHOT. 
 
 I iiKule ;i re(|uest of my falluT tliat it liad cost 
 me a soi'e trial to iiiake ii[) mv mind to ask. 
 lie — \\\'ll. lie didn't take it ]viiid]\', and — and — 
 and I left Lome in a- Iniff : not exactly a liui'f, 
 either: l)Ut. to tell the trntli. Ave sueeeeded in 
 Inirtiny eaeli oiher sorely. And tlicre A\"asn"t 
 the least need of it. It tuok us lioth a long- 
 time to get over tlie liurt of it. 1 sometimes 
 doul)t if we ever did get really all over it. I 
 tell you, Beverly, hoy. it M'as a sad, sad l)lnnder 
 all ai'onnd. It darkenei'l and dam])ened mv 
 spii'its for ]nany a day, and 1 don"t doulit it did 
 his.'" 
 
 Oririith -was playing idly A\ith a paperdviiife 
 on the tal)le ht'side him, and there eaiue a pause 
 and a hir-off look in his eyes. 
 
 '' ( )li. fatlic]'. don't faney I feel that way — T — 
 
 don't — I wouldn't think " began Beverly, 
 
 eagerly, with a suspicious quaver in his voice. 
 To Inde it, he arose suddenly. 
 
 ''Sit doAA'n, son," said (iriilith, smiling at the 
 boy and taking the hand that rested on the 
 table. It was cold. He dropped the paper- 
 knife and laid his other baud over his son's, 
 '■'■ Beverlv, you didn't understand me, I reckon " 
 
AN UXOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 157 
 
 — lie threw one arm about the Ixiy's shouhlers — 
 '-' I reekon 3'ou di(hi"t understand nie. I meant 
 to say this : I still think ni}- father was wrong. 
 Now, if I can help it, I don't want the time to 
 ever come, that when you recall your tirst inde- 
 pendent effort with me, you will think that 
 of me. I'ye always intendt-d to try to remem- 
 ber, when that time came, to put myself in 
 your place, and recall my own early struggles — 
 be nineteen again myself. "We will all hate to 
 haye you go so far away. That will be the 
 hardest part for mother and for all of us ; l)ut 
 if you haye thought it all oyer seriously " 
 
 '^ I haye, indeed, father — for months, and 
 months. It " 
 
 " Why, all there is to do is for me to look 
 into the matter and get that stock for you, and 
 see how we can make the change as easy as pos- 
 sible — as " 
 
 The boy was on his feet. He was struggling 
 to hide his emotion. Griffith, still holding his 
 hand, arose. He drew the boy toward him. 
 Suddenly Beverly understood his father's wish. 
 He threw both arms about his neck and kissed 
 him as he had not done since he was a little fel- 
 
158 
 
 AX ry OFFICIAL PATL'IOT. 
 
 low. Mr. DuvL'iiporl held llie l_)oy close to his 
 breast. lifVerly A\"as tlie taller of the two. hut 
 the hilher's fi)i-rii had filled out into portly pro- 
 portions duriny these past years and Beverly's 
 ^vas veiT slight. 
 
 '• There, there, there I " exelainied rxrilTith, 
 presently. Mowing- a hlastupon his liandkerehief. 
 '•'What are we two precious lools crying over? 
 Wasting- time I Wasting time I I>etter go tell 
 your mother all ahout it and let her get about 
 fixing you u[) to go. Editor Davenport!" he 
 exclaimed, holding the ])oy at arm's length. 
 '^Well. well, well I what next? Tut, tut, tut, 
 tut I _ I ex[iect Iioy will l)e Avanting to set up a 
 law-ohice — (tr a boxing school — in a day or two." 
 Koy's exploit witli his lists in behalf of Aunt 
 Jitdy had always been a- family joke. '-But, 
 look here, Beverly, I want }'ou to promise me 
 you \\'ill l)e mighty careful to keep out of 
 trouljle out there. It's a hot State just now. 
 The times are scorching, and — (lod only knows 
 what's in store for the country. Keep out of 
 trou])le and hasty ^^'ords, son. Bless me, but Fm 
 glad it's not Roy! He'd be in troulile before he 
 got his first stick set up. They call it a stick, 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATBIOT. 159 
 
 doirt tliL-y ? ni luive to coach up on journalis- 
 tic language if I'm to liave an editor for a son. 
 The proof of the editorials will be in the read- 
 ing' thereof," he added, smiling at tlie [»layupon 
 the old saying. " But I stipulate right now 
 that you send nie every one you write marked 
 in red, so I won't have to wade tlirough all the 
 other stuff to hnd yours. If they're as good as 
 that last essay of yours at the Delta, Fll be 
 proud of you, my boy. Only — only don't be 
 too radical ! Young blood boils too easy. 
 Mine did. Go slow on this question, Bev. It's 
 bigger than you think it is. In one form or 
 another it has burdened my whole life, and I've 
 never been able to solve it yet — for others, for 
 others. I solved it for myself — as Judy's pres- 
 ence here proves," lie added, laughing. Judy's 
 presence and her triumpli over the law was a 
 family jest, and Roy's fight on her behalf not 
 wholly a memory of regret. 
 
 '' He fit fur the ould naiger," remarked the 
 envious Rosanna, from time to time, " but it 
 would be the I'ear of me loif, shure, before he'd 
 do the same, er even so much as jaw back, fer 
 the loikes o' me ! " 
 
100 AX VXOFFJCTAL P.ITIHOT. 
 
 rTTArT]:ij xi. 
 
 " I'll sland ns if a iiian AVi-iv aiillioi- of lihnsclf, 
 .Villi l<iii'\\ no oihiT kin.'" 
 
 SlNC'r: IJi'Vcrly A\'as ;i ^'iroilliail. and siiire it 
 was \\v\\ known lliat at least (Uie of tlic new" 
 owiici's of tliv pajtiT was from ?klassaclnisetts, it 
 was (lrenic<l ^vis(' to lia^'c Ucvcily sign all of 
 liis t'ditorials \\lit,'i'c tlii'V tondird — as tliey 
 nsnally did — njion tlir I'Vcr-prcseid, and ever- 
 exi'itiny to|iie of slave extension. The A'oiuig' 
 fellows \\-ere advised hy the oi'iginal owner 
 that the border people were in no mood to 
 aecejit arguments opposed to the opinions of a 
 lai-ge proportion of the property owners, if they 
 snppost'd these arguments earne fi'om pei'sons in 
 any A\'av hostile to their interests — as all the 
 New England people were sup[)Osed to be. 
 But, he reasoned, if these arguments eame 
 from the pen of one ^\ ho had known the insti- 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 161 
 
 tution of slaveiy at its best and had loved tlie 
 old order of tilings where it was an cslahllshed 
 histitution and where its roots were, as even 
 Beverly believed, in normal earth and not to 
 be distnrbed — if from his pen came the protest . 
 ao-ainst its farther extension — it Avas believed 
 the natives wonld accept it in kindness whether 
 they agreed with him or not. Ik^verly still 
 adhered to the old order of things for the old 
 states. He, like his father, liad seen how hard 
 it was to be rid of even a small portion of its 
 power and its responsibility. 
 
 At the end of the second year of his new 
 editorial work Ik'verly had grown to feel him- 
 self qnile at home with his duties. He had 
 made both friends and enemies. The little 
 office had become the town's center of debate and 
 of political development. The clash of interests 
 had come nearer and nearer. The country was 
 on the eve of an election excitement such as liad 
 never before been known. Four parties were in 
 the held. The election of either of the two 
 radical candidates meant civil war l)eyond hope 
 of evasion. :\Iany still fondly hoped that 
 peace was yet possible if but the compromise 
 
1(;2 AX rXOFFKIAL T'ATmOT. 
 
 eaiididatrs ^V(_■re clccttMl. ^Mr. Davenport lield 
 teiiacionsly to that ^'i(.'^v. Urvrrly came out 
 openly against it. It" it ■were siave(l (Ai l)veoni- 
 proniise, lie iiisistc<l that it Ma^ only a matter 
 of time when the inevitalilc ANoiihl come. He 
 ar^aicd that it ^\•ouhl he l)est to meet and settle 
 the i.s.sue onee and hir all. 
 
 '' T shall cast my first presidential hallot for 
 that Illinois lawyer who iiaycd Donylas," he 
 wrote to his father. " AVar is sinijily inevitalde 
 now, and he is a. fearless and eleardieaded 
 leadei'. When the extension paity sees that 
 lie means husiness, and has the mIioIc Xoiih and 
 AVest hehind, him the strugL;le will the sooner 
 be over.*" lint (irillith still hoped for peace 
 and a compromise, and declared his intention to 
 vote for Bell and I-herett. '• You are simply 
 throwing- your vote away," wrote Beverly, 
 insisteidly, ''and after all you have done and 
 suffered heeausc of this thing I am sori'v to see 
 you do it. father. I'd rather see you lu'lji other 
 people to heep out of the tii'e that scorched you 
 than to silenth' allow it to l)e lighted in the states 
 that are now free — in the new territorial country 
 
^.V UNOFFICIAL PATUIOT. 1G3 
 
 SO soon to l)e states. But Avliat business liave 
 I to advise you? I'm in a position to see it 
 better than you are, is my only excuse. I am 
 o-oinc^'to vote for Lincoln and work for him with 
 all my strength. Things are alwut as hot as they 
 can l)e out here, I can tell you. 1 mail my last 
 editorial on the subject to-day. A good many 
 people here don't half like it, and Tve had to 
 buck up to some pretty ugly talk first and last ; 
 jji^^t — we have to follow our consciences, don't 
 we ? That's mine, whether they like it or not. 
 Lots of love to mother and the boys and INLir- 
 garet — and to Judy, too. And af you plaise, 
 me reshpects t' Rosanna, shure ! 
 
 " P. S. — T forgot to say I'll have to postpone 
 that visit home for a little while yet, until 
 things settle down a bit. ^^"e liave all we can 
 possibly manage at the office now. Shap runs 
 the business end of things very well, does the 
 hiring and adv. work and all that. Donaldson 
 takes all the locals and reporting, and I've got 
 pretty much the whole of the editing to do. I 
 si-rn only the political ones, but I do the other 
 stuff on that page and the literary part too. Of 
 course both of them do some of these things 
 
1(;4 -l-V I'XOFFK'IAL PAIUIOT. 
 
 oiK'c ill a ^\■llil(■ — ;iiitl if tlu^v ^\■alll to: luu I am 
 (IcIu'IhUmI (111 lor il ; so ;is tiiiR's aiw 1"\(' got to 
 Ix' lirre to iiun/t ;ill llicsi' new qiic-^tioiis. Wu 
 tallv '('111 ov(_'r ai:il I wriic \'!:i u|». Il ki'(.'ps me 
 tit_'(l, Init T lik"c ii : I rccl^oii I was lioni j'or tlu' 
 1)iisiiiess. V/c arc ]v;illy malciii;,;' great strides 
 for vouiig.>t('rs. The sul>.^(/ri|ll!ol!s liave ver\' 
 iu.'arl\- (lonlil(Ml in tlie two years. Did you 
 read tlie issu(_' of tlie l!4ili willi my lurid remarks 
 oil ' P>i\'akers Ahead '/ " T l)tdieve e\ery ^\■ord 
 of it. T don't l)(dies'e A\'e are going to \\\\\\ 
 tliroiigli A\'it]ioiit ;i toiieii of gunpowder. I don't 
 intend to ligiit myself, if T can ]i(d[) il — l)ut I 
 shall shoot M'ilh ink just as L)ng and as strong as 
 I eaii. T helie\'e my postscript is ;i good deal 
 longer than my teller; l.ut sometimes our after- 
 thoiighls have more in 'em than the originals, so 
 Avhy not add "em? I forgot, too. in my gassing 
 about myself, to say how glad I am that Koy is 
 doing so ^^'ell at college now. T shall sui'cly tiy 
 to get home to his graduation in June next, for I 
 Lope after Lincoln is once isi the White House 
 (and you see I assume he is going to get there), 
 that it M'on't take long to settle matters dowu. 
 I think I)}' next June I can surely come home 
 
AX IWOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 105 
 
 for a good visit. I doul)t, though, if we do 
 have a phxce for Roy to take even tlien. All 
 the places we have to give are rather — well, 
 they are not in his line and the pay is small. 
 The salary list looks [)retty big to us on pay- 
 day, but I reckon it looks slim enough to each 
 one of the men who gets his little envelope. 
 Now, I believe that is really all I overlooked 
 replying to in your last : only, once more, father, 
 do vote for Lincoln and don't throw yourself away 
 on that tinkling little Bell. His chances are 
 hopeless ; and if they were not, then the country's 
 chances would be. ^Nlight as well just put 
 little r^Iargaret at the helm of a sliip. No 
 matter how hard she'd pull, or how sweetly 
 she'd smile or how hard she'd coax, the ship 
 would miss the iirm grip needed to steer clear 
 of the breakers. There are breakers ahead! 
 Lincoln is our only hope for an undivided 
 country and the limitation, once and for all, of 
 the extension of slavery — sure, sure. Again, 
 
 love to all, 
 
 " Beverly. 
 
 " X. B. — I don't often read my letters over, but 
 if I hadn't read this one I shouldn't be so cer- 
 
IGG -l.V rXOFFICIAL IWTUIOT. 
 
 tiiiii as I am now that if T were my own father 
 and slionhl receive this eock-snrc [liece of advice 
 from mv ehlest liopeful, IM — \\(dl, IM tan liim 
 well, verhally. IJut since I have the g'ood luck 
 to he the eldest of the r^'/y/ hest and most con- 
 siderate hither in this wide world, J don't expect 
 anything' of the hind to happen to me ; hut if it 
 does, ril swallow it like a little man — and take 
 my reveng'e (in a scorching- editorial) on some 
 other fellow's father who votes for Uell. 
 
 - .Aleekly, 
 
 IMr. Davenport — as was liis liahit — read tlie 
 letter aloud to the family, hut he smiled anx- 
 iously at Hoy's merry comments. 
 
 "' Beverly is in a had })lace to he reckless with 
 his English, just now. That editorial on 
 Breakers Ahead seemed to me to go a good deal 
 too far. Fm glad he says he will not fight if 
 there shotdd he a war— which Clod forbid." 
 
 ''I woidd, then I " remarked Boy. "I'd get 
 up a eom[)any right here in college. Lots of 
 the l)ovs declare they'd go." 
 
 Mr. Davenport looked at his son over his gold- 
 
.l.V UNOFFICIAL FATRIOT. 107 
 
 bowed glasses. There was a suspicious twinkle 
 in his eyes and a twitching of the lips. There 
 was a long pause before he spoke. This son of 
 his had always seemed to Griffith younger than 
 he was. 
 
 " How old are you, Roy ? " he asked in a 
 spirit of fun. "• You'd make a tremendous sol- 
 dier, now, wouldn't you ? — just out of short 
 clothes ? " 
 
 " I'm older than Bev. was when he left college. 
 I'm twenty. Young men make the best soldiers 
 anyhow. I heard Governor Morton tell you 
 that the last time he was here, and besides " 
 
 " Tut, tut, tut, boy, you attend to your les- 
 sons ! Twenty ! Is that so, Katherine ? Is 
 Roy twenty ? " 
 
 Griffith took his glasses in his hand and held 
 them as if he were trying to magnify the boy in 
 order to see him, and with his other hand 
 tweaked his upper lip as if searching for a 
 mustache. Roy accepted the joke and stretched 
 himself up to his tallest, and from his inch of 
 advantage over his father he put down a patron- 
 izing hand on Griffith's head and said, " Bless 
 you, my children, bless you." Griffith changed 
 
16S AX rXOFFICTAL PATIHOT. 
 
 the (linx'tiou of his j^-lasscs ;uh1 se.irelie'l tlie 
 CL'iliiiLi' \\'n\\ tliat !_;'ralirKMl smile fatliers Inive 
 wliiMi tlu/y n'ali/.c tlial a son re'all\' (■xcccmIs tliem 
 ill aiivtliinc;-. Kallicriiic was laULjIiiiiL;' at tlic by- 
 play of the- two. Siiddciih (Jriflilli turiKMl to 
 his youngest son : •■ llowanl. how old are vou ? 
 I suppose you will \'ote this time, and go to war 
 and do no end of great and rash things." 
 
 '' No, T"ll stay at liome and nurse the hal)y. 
 That's the kind of a, fellow T am,"" lluiig ])aek 
 this petulant one. and the (h)nr hanged hehind 
 him. 
 
 '' Dou"t tease Wai'(h"" said Katln'rine. " llis 
 tom[)er seems to grow faster than he (hies just 
 tliese last t\\"o years, and "" 
 
 '' Ilighty-tighty : lle"d better take a reef in 
 it. If rd heliave(l thai wav ^vitll mv father lie 
 would have preserlhetl a little hiekoiy oil. How 
 ohl Is Howard? Fourteen? Growing too fast 
 l.>v half — hut liis temper does seem to keep up 
 with the rest of him. I must say. Cro and hiteli 
 up tlie eentitry })laiit. Ivoy. I want to drive 
 oitt to the farm. Want to go"htng? Don't. 
 AVell, do you, KatlTrine ? Xo ? Well, then I 
 cTuess I'll have to take .Marq-aret. She won't e:o 
 
^l.Y IWOFFiriAL PATIUOT. 169 
 
 l);ifk on me like that. It'll do lier good and she 
 can pla}- AA'ith those tvv'o peewees of Miller's, 
 while he and I look over the stock and drive 
 about the place a little. Fan's colt was lame the 
 last time I was out. I don't helieve the straw- 
 berry patch is going- to do well this year, either. 
 Did I tell you what a fine fat calf the brindle's 
 is? You'd laugh to see it. It winks at joii 
 exactly as if it understood a joke.'' 
 
 Tlie old phaeton — otherwise tlie " century 
 plant " — dashed up to the door. The combina- 
 tion was especially incongi'uous. Hitched to it 
 was a great, gray, fiery Araljian stallion. The 
 one-time circuit rider had not lost his love for a 
 good horse, and liis little stock farm on the out- 
 skirts of tlie town Avas the joy of his life. He 
 sadly missed the l)eautiful vallc}* of his youth, 
 but at least these fields were his. No blue 
 mountains loomed up in the distance, but the 
 beech and maple trees were luxuriant. ]\Iount- 
 ain stream and narrow pass there were not, but 
 a pebbly brook, in A^hich Avere miiniows, ran 
 througlrthe strip of woods, and Griffith still 
 enjoyed the comradeship of bird and beast and 
 fish. He had named the stallion Selim, after 
 
170 
 
 .l.V rXOFFICIAL PATinoT. 
 
 tlie loVL'. of ]iis Adiitli. ami iio (Hic (Lux'il drive 
 liiin l)ut liiniself. lie todlc ii[i llie liin's and 
 called l)acl< In Roy as Selim daslied off, '• Til 
 leave Selim ami bi-iiiy I'^aiinit' in. .•^o your niotlit-r 
 and vou can diive to-nioirow. live, Howard! 
 r>(! a yood lioy!"" lie (.-ailed, as lie eauyht a 
 o'linipse. of tlic l)i>vat llie corner of tlie house. 
 '• So"ll the devil l»e a L;()od boy I Just wait 
 till that war comes I Tlicy'll see ! "" lie yrow led, 
 as the '' century plant "' dlsa|i[ica]'ed. Idiei'e 
 floated hacic on the air. "Joy to the world, te, 
 te, tum, tum. Yea, yea, there, Selim ! AVhoa I 
 Yea I yea ! Let eailh receive her KiiiL,'' ! Te. te, 
 turn."" The '• centniy plant "" and Selim disap- 
 })eared around the ciU'iier, and the life and di-um 
 corps ^^ Inch had stanled the horse, dro\\"iied all 
 othei' sounds, and for I h>-\\ ard, all other tiiouL;hts. 
 He did not sto[) to reach the g'ate. lie vaulted 
 over the fence and joined llie procession and the 
 refrain of the school-hoys -who j^ave 'words to the 
 mttsic — "on \i i-ail I .\nd ^\•e'll ride old Abe, 
 and we'll ri<le old Abe, and we"ll ride him to 
 the White House on a rail!" The boy dioppcfl 
 into the step and the rhythm with a will. He 
 foro'ot to lie sullen. 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATEIOT. 171 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 "The shears of destiny."' — SItakt'>i2)eare. 
 
 Wak I war I Avai- 1 Tlie great election was 
 over. The bitterness of faelion and of section 
 liad only intensified. The iiievital)le had at last 
 come. ]\Iol)s, riots, and confusion follo\yed 
 threats, and at last the sliot that struck Fort 
 Sumter echoed in ever}- Tillage and hamlet in 
 the country. The beginning of the struggle Avith 
 arms to adjust the differences between two irre- 
 concilable doctrines — two antagonistic social and 
 economic policies — had culminated. The adjust- 
 ment must, indeed, now come. " Seventy-five 
 thousand troops for three months I " The Presi- 
 dent's call rang out, and almost before the echo 
 died away the quota was full. The young, the 
 , adventurous, and the hot-headed, supplemented 
 the patriotic and sprang into line. To these it 
 was to be a three months' camping-out lark. Of 
 
172 
 
 .LA' rXOFFK'lAL PATRIOT. 
 
 foursc tlic Sdutli Avould l)ack d()\vn at the sliuw 
 (if annril strL'iiL;'tli and linn resistance to dis- 
 union. Tlie martial spirit, tlie llylitiiiL;' instinct 
 inliereid in tlie race— that leyacy from ourl)rnte 
 aiieesti'v — was faiiiird inlo ilame like lii'e in a. 
 summer \\'ind. ('i)l]e^e classes were de[»leled. 
 ^'ouul;' lads hastened to I'oi'ce themsrh'cs iido 
 tlie I'anks. Drum and lite and 1)Ul;'1(_' soundeil in 
 every street. IvcKoy l)a\en[)ort was one of the 
 lirst to eidist. d'iie comiiany of collc'^'i' lioys 
 elected liim their second licutiMianl, and tliey 
 left at once fur ("amp MditoiL to he ready to 
 mai'cli to the front at tlie lirst order for troops 
 fi'om the ^^'est. He looked very line and sol- 
 dierly and handsome in liis uniform, and with the 
 straps upon his shoulders. IJeverly wroti; that 
 lie should stick t(» his editorial chair. lie slept 
 in the office, to he ready to receive and v/rite 
 up every scrap of ne\ys the moment it caane. 
 lie M'rote a series of llery editorials, denouncing" 
 the "outrage on the Hag at Foil Sumter."' An 
 anonymous letter was pushed under his olTice- 
 door wai'uing him to desist. lie puhlished the 
 letter and a[i[)cnded to it a more vigorous ai-titdo 
 than before. That night, as he lay on the bed 
 
^i:\^ UNOFFICIAL PATIUOr. 173 
 
 ill the little baek room of the office, he thonglit 
 he detected a strange odor. He went softly to 
 the window and looked out. The moon was 
 just rising on the river. His little row-boat, in 
 Avliieli liis iisliing- and pleasure trips were taken, 
 LoLbed idly up and do\\"n on the Avaves just 
 under tlie corner of the building. The strange 
 odor grew stronger and more distinct in char- 
 acter. He began to suspect that he understood 
 it. He opened the door into the front room and 
 passed on to the compositors' room. He was 
 sure now that it was the smell of smoke and oil- 
 soaked clotli. His first impulse was to open the 
 front door and shout lire, l)ut he renieraljered 
 Lovejoy's fate and paused. He stepped to tlie 
 front window and turned the old slats of the 
 heavy green blinds so that lie could see out into 
 the narrow street. There were three forms 
 crouching near the door. He thought he saw 
 the gleam of steel. Flames had begun to creep 
 under the door and from the compositors' room. 
 Suddenl}' the flimsy pine partition burst into a 
 sheet of flame. He knew that to open the front 
 door was to meet death at the hands of desper- 
 adoes. He caught up the only implement of 
 
174 AX rXOFFICIAL PAnUOT. 
 
 defense lie saw — a })air of givat. sharp, cli|ipiiig- 
 sliears, and start(Ml for tlie door. He iutiMided, 
 at least, to mark Ins man so that ollici's could 
 deal with hhu aftui'ward. Suddtady he remem- 
 l)ered that he eonld di'op fnmi the haek window 
 into the river. Ifilicyhad not taken his oars 
 he could es('a|ii'. Thr room was as light as day 
 now, and he knew that to hesitate was to he lost. 
 He droppeil the (an-ious \\ra}ioii he had iii his 
 hand, and ran to t!ie hark room. Tlie oidy rope 
 there \\as tlu' support of tlu/ old-tashioiiL'd hed. 
 He hastily unw(UUid it and fastencil it to the 
 hed-post nearest the window. He wanted to 
 make the dro[i as .short as possil)le, lest the 
 splash of the A\-at(_'r attraet the men from the 
 front of the house. He smiled ^^ hen he elindjed 
 into the hoat and found the oars safely in its l)ot- 
 torin In an instant he was pulling gently, softly, 
 slowly out into the stream. lie could almost 
 hear the heating of his own heart. Then in the 
 moonlight a shot rang out on the clear air, and 
 a shar[) crack, as the hall struck the side of the 
 hoat, told him that he was discovered. Xo need 
 for caution now I Need only for haste and 
 strength I He pulled with all his young vigor 
 
AN rXOFFICIAL rATEIOT. 175 
 
 witli tlie stroke of an accustomed luiiiJ. The 
 
 sky Avas livid with the flames from liis Inirning 
 office— the dream and hope of his lirst manhood 
 was melting before his eyes. " God damn "em I " 
 he said, between his set teeth, as two more shots 
 followed him, '■ they won't dare stay longer now 
 —and I'm out of range. God damn 'em ! " He 
 let the oars fall l)y his side. He could see num- 
 bers of men running about now, shouting, swear- 
 ing, vainly trying to check the flames. Some 
 one yelled, " Shoot again, he's in that skiff ! " 
 
 He heard and understood that the victim 
 was being made out the culprit. The would-be 
 assassins were covering retreat. He de- 
 cided that it would not be safe to pull back 
 to the Missouri side just then. He would 
 land on the Kansas shore. iMorning found him 
 near a small village. He landed and made his 
 way directly to the newspaper office. It was 
 one of his own exchanges, and a free-soil paper 
 like his. He told his story, and the editor made 
 a lurid article out of it and called for his towns- 
 men to gather in a public meeting. He issued 
 an extra, and Beverly was tlie hero of the hour. 
 Rough froutiersmen— some of whom had seen 
 
17G AX UyOFFKIAL PATRIOT. 
 
 liis ]);i[icr — loolvrd at the sk'iidrr strl|iliiin' and 
 voluiili'crt/d tn cross tlic river ami " clean out 
 the town."' 'idiey calleil on l>evei'ly for a 
 Npeecli. d'liey ^vere l)ent n[)on nial^inL;' liini a 
 leader. 'Y\w war fever was in tlit_: frontier 
 Mood. lie lie^'an his s[)eeeh in a passion t)f 
 personal feelin;^', hnl ended* in an a[)peal for 
 volunteers, '• not tc) liyht niji Ijattle, ne)t to 
 avenge niv wron;^', not to ivpair nry hsss, hut to 
 hn'ht this great hatlle foi' lilierty and freedom 
 in the great northwest ! It seems m-c Avill 
 have to light for the fi-eedom of speech and 
 })ress, as well as for free soil ! I Avill l)e frank: 
 I had not intendcfl to enlist in this war. I had 
 lioped to do more good l)y argument than I 
 couhl hope to do 1)V arms. I had ho[)ed to see 
 the end of it at the end of tlie three montlis 
 for which the President called for troops ; but 
 I do not stand on tliat ground ■.xny longer. 
 Yesterdav. as you all know, there was issued a 
 new call for five hundred thousand more men I 
 I want, iKTw, to Ix' one of the first of those, and 
 I shall enlist for three years or for ten years or 
 as long as this war lasts ; and I don't want to 
 come out of it alive if I liave got to come out 
 
,-i.y rxoFFiciAL rATiuor. 
 
 into a country Avhere free .speech is tlu'ottled 
 and a free 2)ress burned up I I shall enlist, I 
 tell you, and since I had to fly to Kansas for 
 protection, I hope that Kansas will eru'oll me as 
 Jter son, and if -it may be, as her very first 
 volunteer ! " 
 
 The idea took the fancy of his listeners. 
 " Raise a regiment ! "' '^ I'll go with you I " 
 "• Three cheers for the editor ! " 
 
 They were given with a will, and the enthu- 
 siasm for himself put a new idea into liis head. 
 
 '^I am only twenty-three years old," he said 
 laugliing, " and not much bigger than the right 
 arm of some of you great, fine, muscular fellows ; 
 but if you are willing to trust me, I would ask 
 nothing better than to take the lead of such a 
 body of men. If enough of you will enlist here 
 and now, Til go with you as private or as 
 captain. I'll take the lead and the responsibility, 
 or I'll follow any better qualified man you may 
 name, and we'll go up to the capital and offer 
 ourselves as the first Kansas volunteers for this 
 
 war 
 
 . T •' 
 
 Almost before he had spoken the words 
 
 cheer after cheer rent the air. Men signified 
 12 
 
178 AX rx OFFICIAL PATIHOT. 
 
 their willingness to enlist, and l»ef()r(3 night on 
 tlie first day he hail spent on Kansas soil he 
 found himself marehing to\vard the' ea[iital at 
 the licad of one hnndred delennineil. rmigh. 
 strong-, fearless frontiersuien to ask for a eont- 
 inission as their eaptain, and for arms and ammti- 
 iiition for his men. 
 
 ]Mr. Da^'enport was surprised that day to re- 
 ceive this dispateh : 
 
 "Am elected Captain. Company A. First 
 Kansas Vols. Will write. 
 
 '' Beverly." 
 
 Tliev cottld ]iot imagine at home why Bev- 
 erley shottld be in a Kansas eom[)any, btit when 
 the Gazrtfe came that night ^\ ith an aeeottnt of 
 the httriung of the ol)settre newspaper-cdhce out 
 in ^lissottri, the}' understood, and Katherine felt 
 faint and siek when she realized that t\\o of her 
 boys had gone to fight against her people. She 
 knew that her own brothers and nephews wottld 
 all be on the other side, and that Gritfith's were 
 tliere too. Griifith had gone with Boy's com- 
 pany to Camp ^Morton and had sorroAvfitlly coU' 
 
AX UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 179 
 
 sented to liis enlistment ; luit if war there must 
 be and if liis son must go, Griffith felt that he 
 was on the right side. lie held hack, himself, 
 fi'om the idea that fighting was necessary, even 
 yet. At the very worst, it would all he over 
 very soon, he thought, and he hoped and l)elieved 
 that a few demonstrations of determination on 
 the part of the Government would undoubtedly 
 settle the matter without any real or serious fight- 
 ing. He was unalterably opposed to a division of 
 the Union, and he believed that the South would 
 see its mistake on that question and reconsider 
 it. But as State after State seceded, his perplex- 
 ity deepened. lie and Katherine had all these 
 years kept up a fond and constant correspondence 
 with the old liome friends and kinsmen, several 
 of whom, from time to time, had visited them. 
 All these had felt that Griffith had made a 
 grievous mistake in following the course he had 
 taken, but until now no real bitterness had result- 
 ed. Now, all letters ceased. They liad heard, 
 somehow, in the old home, that Griffitli's sons 
 had enlisted in the Union army — to fight against 
 them! That was more than they could bear. 
 Even before the line of coramunicatiou was 
 
ISO 
 
 J.V rXOFFICIAL I'AlinoT. 
 
 fiiiallv cLisrd ai^'uiiist li'ltcrs. tlieirs liad ceased 
 to eoiiie — :iiid Kalliuiiiit' understood. Many a 
 uiylit slie S()l)l)('d liiTsrlf to sleep. 
 
 " How tciTiblc tliis all is. ( uil'litli : ITow ter- 
 rible I Wliy should tlicy fi-'ld over it '/ Wliy 
 don't tlir\- 1 •( ilie slave states l;'o. if tliey want 
 to, and l)c one L;(i\'erninent. ami the olhers 1)l' free 
 stales and, anoilier ^o^■ernnlelit — as Canada and 
 we are, oi- a> Mexieo and we ? 
 
 (iririilh had D'ied to e\'[>lain the diriieulties 
 and the ine\ital)le elasliiny of inlei'esis that 
 would he foiever resultini^- — the t'onstant and 
 eternal elashing-. lie pointed out that no 
 C0untl■^■ would allow itself t(J he di\'ided. Tie 
 read to her long- arg-unients in sup})0rt of the 
 maintenanee of the Cnion : hut she sai<l: 
 
 ••Yes, I see it is desirahle if all want it so ; 
 httt if the\" do /i'>t, why — why — I ^\■ouldn"t fight 
 to eoni[Kd them to sta\' with me if they want to 
 go. You ne\er do that \\"ay \\ ith your ehildre]!, 
 (TrilTitli. \o{\ kno\v vou don't. You neverdid try 
 to eonijuer one of them and force him to think 
 3-our waj'. You alwavs felt that way al)Out free- 
 ing the slaves, too. You said you did not judge 
 for other people — only for y<jurself, And when 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 181 
 
 you SciAV how teiTil)ly hard it was to do it, and 
 that most people coidd not do as you did even if 
 they Avanted to— you always said that you did 
 not blame them in the least." 
 
 " I say so yet. I know all that ; Init govern- 
 ments are very different. Some one has got to 
 decide for others. If they didn't, everything 
 would go to smash in very short order. I sup- 
 pose I am a good deal of a coward. I can't bear 
 to judge for other peo})le. But I do believe in 
 maintaining this government at any and all cost 
 
 but I'd leave slavery alone in the South. I 
 
 wouldn't let it spread. That is Lincoln's policy 
 now. He said so in his message— his inaugural. 
 If it will stay where it is, he says he won't 
 disturb it — and that suits me ; but if it will 
 
 not " 
 
 " Well, it won't," put in Howard. " I heard 
 Governor ]\Iorton say so in his speech last night. 
 He said that this fight had all along been really 
 to extend and not to retain slavery, and when that 
 was lost then the South proposed to smash the 
 Union. That's exactly what he said ; but, ' We'll 
 rally round the flag, boys, we'll rally once again,' " 
 he sang, and banged the door behind him. 
 
18li AX rXOFFICIAL PATUIOT. 
 
 That nii^lit Hnward (lisa}i|ieai'e(l. Tie liad iiin 
 awav. sworn thai he was I'iy'htceii years oM and 
 enlisted under another name, as a ;^-nnner in a 
 l)atterv I It was ten days l)efore a traee of liim 
 was found. Idien he Avas on liis A\'ay to the 
 front A\"henee news liad come thick and fast of 
 skirniislies. battles and ti'emendous preparations 
 for a terrihle and Idoody strug^gde. Excitement 
 was at fever heat. The streets were crowded 
 Avitli soldiers and echoed ^^■ith martial music 
 nig'ht and day. War, indeed, was itpon them, 
 and fair July A\as here. 
 
.-l.Y UNOFFICIAL PATIilOT. 183 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE OTHER SIDE OF WAR. 
 
 Ix ■Washington, on the twentieth of July, 
 18t]l, expectation ran higli. A decisive, and 
 it was hoped a Ihial blow was to be struck on 
 the following- day. Large numbers of troops 
 had passed through the city and been massed 
 thirty miles away. A great battle was innni- 
 nent. Botli armies had recently ^^'ou small 
 victories. Both were jubilant. For the most 
 part the soldiers in these two opposing camps 
 were raw recruits. They sang and joked and 
 played tricks on each other. To both, war was 
 a mere name yet, a painted glory, a sabred, 
 gold-laced parade before admiring, cheering 
 crowds. The Confederates knew every step of 
 the ground. To their opponents it was an un- 
 known land into which they had been marched ; 
 rucffed, broken country, the like of which the 
 most of them had never before seen. Raw and 
 
1S4 AX rXOFFJCIAL I'ATHIOT. 
 
 iuiIi-'umI tlicy weiv on bolli sidi's, Iml llie luck of 
 kiio\\](Ml_'_;(' (if tilt' to[)OL;-i'a])li\' — iif tln' location of 
 pass and (IffilL', of ford and of sti'i'aiii — g'ave to the 
 Uiuoii troops ( wIk.'ii i1i('\- liad dci^-iit'd to think 
 of it at all) a ccrlain fiMdiiin" "I" insccurit \' and 
 uneasinrss. Still no one d(»nl)tcd for a nioiiiciit 
 tliL' on.tcomc. 'Idif haitli' ^\'onld he fon^ht and 
 "Won, and L;lory wonld lir cai'riiMl hdnif on cvL'rv 
 Union hayoiict. ('iviliaiis dio\'r ont to canij) 
 from the city, and from distant hilltops were 
 ])ri'parcd to ^\■itlu•ss the hat lie. A martial dis- 
 play like this may not lie seen Ihrongh fudd- 
 !4'hiss(_'s ('\-(M'y day. I'^arly in thr day cannonad- 
 ing had hcen heard,. Moie citizens stai'ted for 
 the scene of action. Idici'e N\-ei'e intervals of 
 comparatiw silence, and then again the hoom of 
 cannon and the rattle of muskets told the 
 distaid audience that hostilities were on — that 
 neitlier side had hnally yielded. Later a 
 niind»er of citizens drove furiouslv aci'oss the 
 Lony Ui'idL'X' Avith the news that the Xortheru 
 troops Avere retreating- toward the city. Idieu 
 word caniL' that they had rallied, l)ut citizens 
 deserted their })osts of ol),serYation and rode 
 rapidly toward town. They reported the 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. iSfi 
 
 Soutlieru troops as figliling- liL'rL't4y, but it -wa-; 
 tlioug-lit they "were about to yield. Tlicy could 
 not liold out much long-er against the murderous 
 fire of the Union men. Suddenly a flying 
 horseman Avilh livid face and white lips sped 
 through the streets. It was a messenger from 
 the front! He was making straight to the 
 White House ! The Xorthern troops Avere in 
 full retreat I People looked at each other in 
 dismay. Suivly they would rally ! They 
 Avould nt)t come to the city I They were only 
 falling back ! The}- would tV)rm and attack 
 ao-ain ! People told each other these things 
 and turned pale. The streets 1)egan to be filled 
 with returning civilians. No one stopped. 
 Every one pusliedon toward liome or to the Cap- 
 itol. Another foam-flecked horse dashed in. 
 The rider had on a uniform, dirty, begrimed and 
 wet. 
 
 " The Xorthern troops have broken ranks ! 
 They are fleeing, horse and foot, in one mass of 
 disorganized panic-stricken humanity, pursued 
 by a murderous fire from a jubilant, victory- 
 intoxicated enemy ! The officers could not 
 rally them ! It is a panic ! " No need to 
 
ISO AX rXOFFTCIAL PATHTOT. 
 
 (jllrslioM llif fuels. I,<)(^k at llic distant liills. 
 Walcli till' ai)|ii(iacli(.'s. See tlie sneeessidii of 
 (lispaleli lieareis ily jiast to ilie Wliite I Imise ! 
 "'It is (Uily a reireal ! They will I'ally I " 
 calk'il Ixiek one ridei' only to l)e eoiitradieti'd l)y 
 the next. " It is not a retreat I It is. a panic- 1 
 They have hi'tiken ranks. ]\Ien ai'c Ih'inL;- 
 madly. (inns, amninnitioii, evervthiiiL;- tliat 
 liindei's s[)eed liaNC lieeii thrown aA\'a\' ! I'^aeh 
 man is llyinL;- to sa\'e luniself! W'ashinLj'loii is 
 in dange)' ! "" 
 
 The (dimax liad indeed eome. The dismay 
 knew no l)onnds. A\diat next '/ ]\Inst the 
 Pi'esident escape? Where shonld he l;(i ? If 
 he left, what rotdd Congress do? Mtrst all i]y ? 
 AVhere ? Woidd the enemy iiiyade \VasljinL;- 
 ton ? AVas the Northern army really so dis- 
 organized, si) demoralized? In the name of 
 God I ^\ilat eould it ail mean? People all 
 asked (piestions. There Avas no ()ne to answer 
 them — no one hut the stragglers ^dio l)ega.ii to 
 come in. Were the hi'ave fellows mIio had so 
 gallantly and eheerfuUy marched otit not l)rayo 
 after all? Were they otUinun1)ered ? Were 
 there no reinforcements? AVhat ■\\'as the solu- 
 
.LY UNOFFICIAL PATBIOT. 187 
 
 tion ? The}' had not long to wait. A liandful 
 of horsemen, shame-faced and hesitant, then 
 worn out and hard-driven teams began to appear 
 at the far end of the Long Bridge. All Wasli- 
 mgton took to its housetops. Anxious faces 
 watched for some approaching line. None 
 came ; but the Long Bridge was gorged with a 
 struggling mass of horse, foot and ordnance. 
 There Avas no pretense of a line of march. 
 Each man fled by and for himself. Twilight 
 saw the streets filled with men in soiled and 
 torn uniform ; uniform whieh had but just 
 marched out fresh and resplendent. Sullen 
 replies greeted questions. 
 
 " By God, we didn't know where we w^ere ! 
 Officers didn't know any more'ii we did." 
 
 " Had us in a pocket ! " 
 
 " Gad, Ave was lost — didn't know the way in 
 7ier out ! Try it yerself.'' 
 
 " Willin' t' fight — l)ut not willin' t' go it 
 blind like that." Ambulances, limping footmen, 
 infantr}', cavalry, ordinance and supply wagons 
 crowded and jostled and swore and cursed each at 
 the other. Each struggled for place in advance. 
 The Long Bridge, the Aqueduct Bridge, the 
 
.1 X UXOFFK 1. 1 L I' A TJHOT. 
 
 Cliaiii Bridge, all ^\\■ru one ina<l si-ciie (•! confu- 
 sion. The tcrrilu-d ]rieu saw tlii' donif of llic 
 Capitol and ilieir aim v.'as lo icacli it liy tlio 
 nearest route. I'lie tlioUL;ht of ilie iuil<no\vu 
 country had heeii to tliein a ni;_;luniare from 
 "wliieh eseape was tlieir oiily desire. ^Ml iii^'hc 
 tlie g'hastly speelaele was ke})t up. Xo one 
 slej^it. No one knew A\'hat to expeet on the 
 morrow, Would the city l)e ])onil»arded from 
 the lieights beyond? AVould it he sludled 
 and hurui'd? Would tliese iianie-sniekeii men 
 rally? ("ould they lie depended upon, or was 
 the fri'^dit ]iow so in tlieir hlood that the}' would 
 refuse to form in line ai^'ain and ohey com- 
 mands? (/ould they he j-elied upon? Penn- 
 sylyania ayenue was lined with tired, terrified, 
 and wounded men. Churches Ayere turned into 
 hospitals. Xoljody slept. Surgeons were 
 everywhere. More wounded ke})t coming in. 
 Surgeons from Baltimore, from Pliiladelphia, 
 and eyen from X"ew York responded to tele- 
 grams. S[)ecial trains rushed in. Washington 
 was one mad wliiii of fright and dismay ! 
 Next morning the wliole country was electrified 
 by the terrible news. '^ Extra I 'stra ! 'stro ! 
 
.LY rx OFFICIAL PATniOT. 189 
 
 Extra I all "bout terrible defeat in-in-m-"ion 
 troops ! "stra ! 'stra I 'stro ! " In eveiy town 
 and hamlet in the country — on every tal)le 
 there was spread the awful news on the morning 
 of July 22. ]Men began to take on another 
 look. Tliis, indeed, Avas serious I What was 
 to be done ? Reserve troops were started 
 without delay from camp and home. Excite- 
 ment was at fever heat. Would the fresh 
 troops arrive in time ? Could Washington 
 hold out ? Must the President fly ? Another 
 kind of question bore liard upon many a house- 
 hold. Who was killed? Who Avounded? 
 AVho missing ? People looked into each other's 
 eyes and feared to ask or to speak of this ques- 
 tion nearest their hearts. 
 
 Roy Davenport's regiment was ordered to the 
 front. Henceforth camp life would be no pic- 
 nic. They could be boys no longer. Men were 
 needed at the front. Beverly's company had 
 some time since joined the troops in the South- 
 west and was in the field. The battery in which 
 Howard acted as gunner was Avith Sherman in 
 the far South. For the first time the seriousness 
 of the situation was borne home to the whole 
 
190 .1-V rXOFFK'IAL patthot. 
 
 Xoi'tli. To ft-el that Wasliing'toii was really 
 ill (laii^^'rr <j;;i\l' a new iiK-aiiiii;.;' to defeat. ^Vhy 
 Lad the Xortlieru troops met sueli a fearful dis- 
 aster'/ Befoi'e this thev had -won in almost 
 every eontest. hut this \\'as worlli all the rest to 
 the Soutli so near was it to "Washiug'tou — so near 
 to IJiehmond. The two ea[)ltals faeed eaell 
 other like gladiators, and the hrst serious IjIow 
 liad fallen with erushing foree U[)on the Union 
 cliampions. If Washington fell the C'onfederaey 
 Avas sure of foreign recognition — of sueeess. 
 
 Giihitli had a long talk with (ioverijor ^Morton 
 when he \'\'ent to see l{oy"s regiment off. When 
 he came home he was pale and anxious. There 
 was a new ti'onhle on his heart. lie did not 
 tell Katherine that Morton had urged him to 
 volunteer his services to the (iovernment as a 
 guide through the passes and deliles of his 
 natiA'e State. 
 
 '* Your knowledge of that eountrv would be 
 simply invalualile. It Avould prevent any sucli 
 disaster as this again. Panics like this ruin an 
 army. It will take months to recover from sucli 
 a rout even if nothing worse comes of it. The 
 moral effect is simplj- fatal. You arc a Union 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 101 
 
 man and 3'nu know every foot of that country. 
 Our g-enerals don't. Tlie}^ are afraid to risk 
 o-ettinsf their men into a pocket and h^sinq- their 
 whole command. You can liclp. The main 
 battle-ground is 1)()und to be Virginia ; we can 
 accomplish nothing of value until we knoAV and 
 feel secure on that soil — until the State is an 
 open book to us. Let me Avire the President 
 that you will. Let " 
 
 Griftitli held up his hand. 
 
 "I cannot I I cannot I" he said. "It is my 
 old State ; I love it and my people. I have 
 done enough for my country. I have done my 
 share. I have given my property, ni}' friends, 
 my home, and now my three boys — all, all I have 
 given for my conscience and my country's sake. 
 Surely I have done my whole duty, I will not 
 betray my State ! I will not ! " 
 
 Over and over the Governor had returned to 
 the attack only to receive the same reply. Day 
 after day he argued with Griffith, and still ill 
 news came from the front. The army of the 
 Potomac seemed paralyzed after its repulse. 
 The real gravity of the situation was, for the 
 first time, borne in upon both the military and 
 
102 
 
 AX rXOFFICIAL I'.lTIHi'T. 
 
 the ]i(iliiical iiiiiid. If llie g'reat foreiL;'!! [.owcrs 
 ivcii'^iii/.iMl ilic Cniiffdrratr ytiv.'i'iiiiii'iit. tlie ii ■- 
 pill llie w as L ist. It' W'a-liiiiv'lon fell, thai ir;.-()'.nii- 
 t inii w as as^i'.riMJ -and sliU '• all A\as (juit.'t on lln.' 
 I'oloniac"" 
 
 'V\\v niiddh' (if duh- the ^^■ir(/s liail lla^lird iiic 
 ]U'\\s III' llir defeat of llie ( '(Hi l'e(lel'al t/s al rxniii- 
 ville, ?k[i>siimi. 1)\' L\'iii;s" nieii. I>everl\' had 
 Iteeii there, and had wi-llleii the full aeeounl 
 home, d'hen he was at ( 'arlhaL;-e. and was full 
 of li^ht and enlhusiasni. After his aecotiut of 
 the liallle at Cartha^'e. he had other things to 
 ttdl. •• f did.nd get a serateh either place, Intt 
 the day after the last light I did get a lot of full 
 out of it. I suppose you won't he aide to see 
 how there eiuild he any fuu in the situation. 
 AVelh I'll tell yoti oiu' or two things. One of 
 tny men sho^\-ed the \\'hite feathei'. and we were 
 thinking of eourt-martialing and making an 
 example of him. I made tip my mind to give 
 Ilartman (that was the fellow's name, Hill Ilart- 
 ]nan ) a elianee to tell me jirivalely his side of 
 the story. Says I, ' Bill, I've asked all your 
 neighhors here in camp if yon were a coward at 
 liome, and they all say yoti were not only brave, 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL FATlilOT. 103 
 
 but you liad proved it many a time. jSTo^v, I 
 want to save you this court-martial if I can, and 
 I want you to tell me your side of it. I low did 
 it happen ? ' 
 
 " 'AVell,' said he, transferring his quid of to- 
 bacco to his other cheek, ' Cap, it's this a-way. I 
 can't seem t" jest stand right up an' shoot a fel- 
 ler I ain't had no words with. I want to pick 
 out my mauAvhen I kill him, an' I want t' kinder 
 have a quah'l with him fust. I can't seem t' 
 jest stand right up an' kill a man I ain't had no 
 words with. I can't do it, somehow er 'nother, 
 Cap.' 
 
 '' I don't know how I'm going to manage to 
 
 get Bill into a ' quah'l ' with some special Keb 
 
 before the next fight, and then make sure he'll 
 
 get a chance to pop at that particular one in 
 
 action ! We'll have to get up some scheme, I 
 
 suppose. Bill is too good a soldier to be liam- 
 
 pered and to have his usefulness impaired by a 
 
 simple want of a feeling of personal revenge I 
 
 I reckon if the truth were told, though, we all 
 
 fight a good deal better if we have that stimu-' 
 
 lant. Another ludicrous thing happened the 
 
 other day. I was sent out, just with an orderly, 
 13 
 
194 .1-Y rXOFFiriAL PATUIOT. 
 
 to see if I could l(Mi'ii aii\"i]iiiig of llic move- 
 iiiciils (_\i tlic ciieiiiy. Wv liad (Ui citizens" 
 cldllirs. and \\"c j(vgL;'cd aloiiL;' until wo were 
 Avitlun lield-L>;lass distance o!" I larris's canip. He 
 is an old \\'est Pointer and a tactician. l"\e 
 lieai'd lliat tliey call him ' ( )ld Lo^'isti(/s au'l 
 Stralci^T ' — and I must say if his ad\ice in the 
 Senate had heen followed last A\inter ^\■e'd have 
 had a lui^lily poor show here noAw JJut when 
 Ave !4'ot A\]iere we ihon^lit we could see .si^me- 
 thin;^', (juile a sliowcr came np and our glass 
 M'as no use. Uiidei' the cover of the I'ain I 
 ventniXMl a good de.d cdosi'i' : and. if vou'll l»e- 
 lieve me, his commaml wwo sitting on their 
 li(jrses. di'awn up in line, with nnd)rellas I'aised ! 
 Tlie absurdity of the tiling neaily knoidvcd my 
 pins from under me. I only wislied I could get 
 near enough ti^ see tlie effect on Old Lr)gistics 
 Avhen he shouhl emerge from his tent — and lie a 
 West P(Mnter I Put you don't need to make 
 any mistakes ahout tlieir lighting — tliese natives. 
 AVe've found tliat they will light to the death, 
 l)ut they've got their own ideas on the suhject 
 of soldiering in the meantime. ]\Iost of 'em 
 carry their powder in a pouch, and it needs to be 
 
Ay UX OFFICIAL FAflUOr. 195 
 
 kept diy I It Avas the very funniest thing I ever 
 sa\v, though. I'he rain eanie down in .such tor- 
 rents I couldn't get an idea how many there 
 were, hut, from the Avay the}- fouglitusnext da}^ 
 I made u[) my mind there must he pretty chjse 
 to a million — and they didn't use uinhrellas to 
 protect themselves, either I They took our storm 
 of shot cooler than they did the rain in camp, 
 and tlu'V foi\ght like demons. Of course, their 
 equi[)ments don't compare with ours. Most of 
 them have their old home guns — -no two alike. 
 But a good lot of our hoys are carrying around 
 some of their annnunition inside of them just 
 now, all the same. One of the prisoners we 
 took — a straggle!' — told us that none of his 
 command are regularlj' enlisted. They are 
 afraid to enlist ; say that Old Logistics is a 
 'reg'lar," and, if they enlist and then don't 
 do just his way, he'll court-martial them. 
 They argue that, if they don't regularly enlist, 
 lie can't do anything to them. They are ready 
 and eager to fight, Ijut they don't propose to 
 he suhject to 'regular' discipline in the in- 
 tervals. This fellow says lialf of the command 
 go home nights — to their farms and stores — and 
 
I'm; .ly rxoFFKiAi. patujot. 
 
 ivtuni ill (Liwii tlic next moniiiig. I think lie 
 is Ivini;' aliniit llic nuiiil)cis \\\\n do, l)nt I ilon't 
 (l(iul)t tliat sonic (]o. He vows liu is telling' the 
 cold fact. I-'aiir\- tlie humor of connnanding' an 
 aniiy nmltT imihrclla^, wiio go home nights to 
 milk the cows ! I5iit undertake to fight 'em, 
 and ihci'c is no hiugh left. That is not their 
 comic side. W'e ha\c orders to move in llie 
 nioruiiig and ai'e all icady. I will let yon liear 
 again the moment we ^toil."" 
 
 lUd'ore this letter ol' l'>everly"s reaehed home 
 the lelegra|ihie news of the battle of AVilson"s 
 Civek lilled the pa[iers. lU'verly's name ap- 
 ]ieai'e<l among the ^\■onnded : '" Seriously, not 
 hitall\- — Captain lieNerh' I)aven})ort: shot in 
 three places A\hile covering retreat after fieiiei'al 
 Lyon fell. Young Captain Daven[)ort's men 
 did good service. Ills connnand lost heavily."' 
 No fni'ther news came, (iriflitli telegraphed, 
 hut could get no ]'e[)h-. 
 
 ''• Yoti mtist go and l)ring him home,"" said 
 Katherine. '' I cainiot hear this sns}>en.se any 
 longer."' 
 
 She had grown pale and hollow-eyed in these 
 few days of anxiety. Griffith went. He found 
 
AN rXOFFlCIAL PATUIOT. 1<)7 
 
 ])everly (loiuf;- well, lait a ball had youe lliroug-li 
 his sword-arm and two others were inil)edded in 
 his flesh. His horse had fallen Ijeneath him 
 and he liad had to walk on the wounded leg', 
 and had lost mueh Itlood. He looked weak and 
 thin. His f»rderly had written home for him, 
 but the letter had never come. Griffith urged 
 him to go home and recuperate, but he would 
 not listen to the proposition. Griffith wrote 
 home to Kathei'ine and then waited. Tlie com- 
 mand was ordered to move, and still Beverly 
 was not able to go Avith it. The commander 
 ordered him to go home until able to report for 
 duty. 
 
 He was a sensation in the village. He was 
 the first handsome young Avounded officer to re- 
 turn. Alas ! they were plenty enough later on ; 
 but now his limp and his arm suspended in a 
 sling made him a hero, indeed. Many were the 
 demonstrations in his honor. The Governor 
 came to see him, and strove again to convince 
 Griffith that he, too, was needed at the front. 
 "• I have told President Lincoln about you," he 
 said. " You can see for yourself what the army 
 in Virginia is doino- ever since Bull Run — 
 
IDS AX rXOFFKIAL PATJilOT. 
 
 iiotliiiiL;- at all. Tliose tAA"o defeats — l'>nil Run 
 and Hall's lUul'f — st(i[)jicd tliem ol'f cidii'eh". 
 Ai-lidU tliat will l)c eiTi-cti\'(' is siiii[il\- iuipos- 
 sil)lt- willuaU kiiowiii;^- llie la\- of llie land. 
 Nnrtlieni nirii dnn'i know it. nnd A\'e caiTt trust 
 Soiitlieni men to tell tlic truth, of eourse, 
 al»out it. d'lic relxds know lliat }ierfeetlv \\cll, 
 antl they hanlv on it. ddic\- keep their hest and 
 sti'onLiest L;'eiu.'rals. and men wlio know tlic 
 State like a Ijook. ii;_;ht tiicre l)etween AVasliint;'- 
 ton antl lliehniond. It won't do to let it he 
 g'enerally known, {ov iluit \\iiidd put panie iiUo 
 our troops wlifu thc\- are trif(l next : hut tliei'e 
 is not a soul the lhx'si(h'nt ran trust who knows 
 those passes and delilcs and fords. Captain, T 
 hope 3'ou know tlieni. I don't helie\'e ifnn \\'\\\ 
 refuse to '^o any pla.ee you are needi'il. ^\s a 
 reeruit — an enlistcil nian — you cini't j'efuse." 
 
 '•• Cio." Naid ])eveily : "l;i>.' wliy of eottrse I 
 would if [ knew the country as hitlier does, liut 
 1 don t. ^ oit see father ttsed to he a eireiiit- 
 rider. lie knows every foot of it as if it were 
 liis front yard, hut I would know oidy a. few 
 luiles near Avliere we lived. I was oidy a hoy 
 then. It is a hard country to learn. Passes 
 
AX UNOFFICIAL FATBIOT. 199 
 
 are many and blind. Fords change— it lakes a 
 native and an expert to feel safe Avitli tlieni. If 
 
 I •' Tie turned suddenly to liis father iu 
 
 his enthusiasm. ^- Why don't you go, father? 
 If the President wants you— if your country 
 
 needs you, why "' He saw the look that 
 
 crept into his father's face, and he understood. 
 The young fellow limped to his father's side 
 and laid his left hand on his shoulder. 
 
 "Father has done enough," he said, looking 
 at the Governor. " Do not ask him to do this. 
 lie fought his hattle Ijefore the Xorth came to 
 it. lie has Ijorne and suffered enough. Gov- 
 ernor. Father is a Virginian, blood, bone, and 
 ancestry. He loves his people and his old liome. 
 We boys don't remember it as he does, but to 
 liiiu — to him, it will always be home. They 
 will always be his people." 
 
 " Uidess it is desperate and I am ordered, I 
 shall not go," said Griffith, looking up almost 
 defiantly. " You need not ask me again. Gov- 
 ernor. I have done my share. I have done 
 more for my country and my conscience than 
 many men will be called upon to do — I have 
 done my share." 
 
'J(l(j AX US OFFICIAL PAriUOT. 
 
 The Governor gavt- it up, liut lie diil not i'nr- 
 o-et one phrase, " unless it is desperate — unless 
 I am ordered." That nin'ht he stalled for 
 AVashiriLj'ton, and a wmdc later IJevt'rlv returned 
 to his comuKind and to duty in the held. 
 
.-l.Y IJy OFFICIAL PATRIOT. 201 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 A SILENT HERO. 
 
 One evening- Griftitli sat Ijy the library table 
 reading, and Katlierine was moving about the 
 room I'estlessly. For several days no news had 
 come from the front — no home news, no letters 
 from the absent sons. The door leading to the 
 porch was open and suddenly there stood before 
 them a messenger with a telegram. Katlierine 
 grew weak and sick. Griffith tore the envelope 
 open and I'ead. She watched his face. Ever}^ 
 vesticre of blood had left it, and his head sank on 
 his arms crossed on tlie taljle before him. The 
 telegram was crushed in one hand. A groan 
 escaped him, and then a sob shook his frame. 
 
 " Which one is it ? AVhich one of my boys is 
 killed ? Which — which one ? " cried Katlierine. 
 She tried to loosen the hand that clasped the 
 message, but lie held it crushed, and when he 
 
202 AX rx OFFICIAL PATIHOT. 
 
 lifted liis licad (cars wrix' streainiiig down Ids 
 clircks. Jle tri(Ml to I'uassiire lici'. " It is not 
 fli'/f," ]ir said. Imarsrly. " TIh'N- — llic Inns are 
 
 all riL;li(, l)iit llicy have oi'dered iiic ."" He 
 
 ivlaxed Ids L;'ras|), and las head sank again on 
 liis ai'ins. 
 
 tSlie look the message and read: 
 
 - Washington, I). C. 
 '' Iveport here innnedialelv. 
 
 " A. LixcoLx." 
 
 For a niontent Katherine seemed stunneiL 
 She did not (■om|»r(diend. Tlien she seemed to 
 rise hir ahove her normal slatnre. 
 
 '•'Toll sJniJ/ lint ijii.'" .she saiil. ITer eves 
 l)lazed. Her hands hnng liv her sides. l)nt they 
 ■\vere elencdied until the nails sank into the 
 llesli. The tigi'ess in lier A\"as at last aroused. 
 '•You sliall )int go: Ihnv dare he? With 
 tlu'ee of my hoys in the aianv now ! With us 
 2'edueeil to this!" She had never eom|ilaiiie(l 
 of the change in her st\le of li\"ing, hut she 
 flung (^ut ihe eontemptuoi's lire within her as 
 she stretidied out her arms to indicate the sim- 
 plicity of her surroundings. •• With ^/^/.s iu 
 
Ay UNOFFICIAL PATBIOT. 203 
 
 excliaiige for what ^ye liad I Willi every tie 
 broken ! With every luxury and eonifort gone I 
 Separated fi-om even the negroes that k:)ved us 
 and begged to come with us I How dare t\wj 
 ask for further sacrifice from us ! How dare 
 he ! " 
 
 Grif(ith\s head lifted slowl}-. He looked at 
 her in dismay. Was this the patient, compliant 
 wife who had willingl}' given up her fortune and 
 her home to satisfy his conscience ? Was this 
 the silent, demure, self-controlled Katherine — 
 this very tall, angry A^'oman ? Slie l(X)ked like 
 a fury unchained. She took a step nearer to 
 him. 
 
 " You shall not go I " she repeated, and tlie 
 astonislied messenger-boy fled in affright, as she 
 suddenl}' threw both arms about Griffith and 
 began to sol) convulsively. 
 
 Griffith held her to his breast, which lieaved 
 and choked him. It seemed to him that he 
 could not speak. At last he whispered softly : 
 " I must go, Katlieriue. It is an order fi'om the 
 President. I will have to go to Washington." 
 He had not finished speaking until he felt her 
 form begin to shrink and collapse in his grasp. 
 
204 AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 
 
 Her eyes liulf elused, half opened aq-aiii, then 
 clnseil and a. ^■lia.sily pallor s})read itself over her 
 faee. For the Ih'st time in her life Katherine 
 Irid fainted. His hrst ihou^^'ht Avas thatslie was 
 dead. A great A\'a\e of frar and then of self-re- 
 pi'oach s\vc[it over him. He sat stariny in the 
 yliastly faee. 
 
 " I liave saerilieed her very life to niv eon- 
 seieiiee,"' lie moaiie(l aloud. '" I had no right to 
 do that I (iod help me I (iod forgive me! 
 Wlia-t /x it right to do'/ ( 'an we Jicrrrknuw 
 what is right'/"* He ■was holding hi'r in his 
 arms, with his own face upturned and stai'ing 
 eyes. "God help nic I (iodludpnic! What 
 is it right to do "/ "' he moaned again. 
 
 •"'Ko" de good La\\-d on high, i\los' Grif, wlnit 
 de matter wif Mis' Kate'/ What de mattah wif 
 all two, bofe of yoh'/"' exclaimed Aunt Judy. 
 " I done see dat little rapscallion Avhat brung de 
 telegraf letter run fo" deah life, an" he 3-ell back 
 dat Mis" Kate done gone crazy, an" " 
 
 Judy had hoblded to his side, and lier old 
 eyes were growing use<l to the changed light. 
 She saw his tear-stained face and Katherine's 
 lifeless form in his arms. 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 205 
 
 '' Ls Alis' Kate daid, Mos' Grif?"' she asked, 
 in an awed voice. 
 
 '* I liave killed her," he said, like one in a 
 dream, looking- at the old woman as to one who 
 eonld be relied on to understand. Katherine's 
 eyelids began to move. Tliey slowly lifted 
 and closed again. The old woman saw it first. 
 
 " Mos' Grif, wat fo" yoh tell me dat kine er 
 talk? !Mis' Kate, she ain't daid. She's des 
 foolin'. Yoh ain't hu'tted, is yoh, honey ? " she 
 cooed, stroking" Katherine's hair. " Nobody 
 ain't hu'tted 3'oh, is dey, ]\Iis' Kate? No- 
 body " 
 
 '" Get some Avater — quick, quick ! " said Grif- 
 fith, and struggled to the couch with his bur- 
 den. He knelt beside her and stroked her 
 forehead and chafed her hands. lie could not 
 speak, l)ut he tried to control his distorted feat- 
 ures, that she might not understand — might not 
 remember — when she should open her eyes. 
 
 " Heah some wattah, honey. Des 3T)h take a 
 big sup. Hit gwine ter do yoh good. Dar, 
 now, I gwine ter lif yoali haid. Xoav, den, yoh 
 des lay des dat away, an' Aunt Judy gwine ter 
 run an' git dat rabbit foot ! Dat gwine ter cuali 
 
2()G AX rXOFFiriAL PATUIOr. 
 
 yoli riglit off. It is Jut. Dey ain't no doetali in 
 (lis roun' ^yol^ kin cnali yoli like wat dat kin — 
 k't erlone one er <lese heali Yankc.'e doetalis ! 
 Hit foteli nie to yon alls dat time wat yoh 
 rninic<l awav. an' liit feleli deni roses Laek to 
 yoali elieeks. too. Dal kit kin I" 
 
 She liol)])led oft lo ker lofl to find her preeions 
 talisman, and (iril'liili sofily closed and locked 
 the door keliiiid ker. Katkerine lay so still lie 
 tkon^^lit ske liad kdlen asleej). He conld see 
 ker kreatking. He went to kis seat l)eside tke 
 couek and gently kiinied ker pale face. Tke 
 color kad come again in tke lips. Presently lie 
 went softly across tke room and took np tke 
 crnmpled message from tke floor, wkere ske kad 
 drop})ed it. 
 
 "■ Report kere immediately. 
 
 " A. Lincoln," 
 
 Tliere could ke no mistake al)out tkat. It 
 was a command from tke President, imperative, 
 urgent. He sank into tke ckair again, and kis 
 kead fell on kis fokk'd arms on tke takle. His 
 li[)s were moving, but tliere was no sound. At 
 last ke was conscious of a liglit tapping on tke 
 
.1-Y UNOFFICIAL PAT RIOT. 207 
 
 window. He was surprised to find lliat it Avas 
 dark. lie crossed the room to find Rosanna 
 outside Avitli a tray. 
 
 " Shure, an' Oi troied botli dures, an' not a 
 sound did Oi git. 'Tis long phast yer tay 
 toime, an' not a pick liave ye et — naytlier wan 
 av yez. Tlie ould nayger's done fed the baby 
 an' put ber t' bed. Sliure, an' sbe's a-gakxvantin' 
 'round here thryin' tbe dures an' windeys, 
 fiourisbin' tlie fut av a bunnie, be jabbers ! Sbe 
 says 'tis wliat yez wants fer yer liealtli ; but, sez 
 Oi, viddles is wbat tliey wants, sez Oi — an' bere 
 they be." 
 
 GrifStb opened tlie door. 
 
 " Is it wan av tbe young maistbers kilt, 
 shure ? " she wbispered, as sbe put tbe tray 
 down. 
 
 Griffitb shook bis bead. 
 
 " Well, thanks be t' Almoiglity God an' all 
 the blisbed saints ! Oi feared me it was the 
 young maisther — an' shure an' ye'd go fur and 
 not foind the loikes av him agin. He looked 
 just simply ghrand in his ossifer's wniforiwi. 
 Yez nioight say ghrand ! Shure an' nobody else 
 could match up wid "im! He looked that 
 
208 AN UXOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 
 
 relispectabk' I .ViT tlic scliape ;iv "iiu I "' Slie 
 tlirow up licr liaiuls and admircil the absent 
 r>evei'ly. '■ 'Jdic scliape av "iiii I Yez nioigliL 
 say I ] [(■ sliiircly do l)e(M!iuc lliein so^'er (dose! 
 Xow, cairt ye/, att,' the rear av tliiiii Ijeri'ies, 
 di-ar ? They're simply yhraiid, they're shpleii- 
 
 did : '• 
 
 Ivallieriiie seemed t() he sleepinc;'. and OrilTitli 
 soon pusheil ilie tray aside, liosanna took it 
 Uji. TIii'ii slie leaned foi'wai-d. 
 
 •• Sliure. an' that ould iiaygei-'s awl'ul reh- 
 speetahle : y<' I'an see tliat h\' the lul-ces av her; 
 1)Ut slie's llict t'oolish witli her ould ded buniiie 
 fut lliel she mahes me eraipy in me shpine." 
 
 She L;laneed altoiit her liefore ventiirinq' out, 
 and then made a sudden dash fur the kilelien. 
 
AN Uy OFFICIAL PATIUOT. L>09 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 " The depths and shoals of honor." SJinkef^peare. 
 
 When Giiffitli readied Washington he sent 
 
 his name directly to the President, and was told 
 
 to go to the room Avhich Mr. Lincoln called his 
 
 workshop, and ^^'here his maps were. The walls 
 
 and tables were covered with them. There was 
 
 no one in the room when Griffith entered. He 
 
 W'alked to a window and stood looking out. 
 
 In the distance, across the river, he could see 
 
 the heights. Pie noticed a lield-glass on the 
 
 table. He took it up and focused it. The 
 
 powerful instrument seemed to bring the Long 
 
 Bridge to his very feet. He remembered in 
 
 wdiat tense excitement he had seen and crossed 
 
 that bridge last, and how he had thought and 
 
 spoken of it as the dead-line. He recalled the 
 
 great relief he had felt when his negroes and his 
 
 own carriage had at last touched free soil — -Avere 
 
 indeed in the streets of Washington. It came 
 14 
 
210 AX rxornciAL PATnior. 
 
 over liim that tlie (•(Uiiitiy, as wxAl as he, liad 
 travek'd a very h)]iL;- way since that time — ami 
 over a stormy roa(L .V lilart.' of martial music 
 sottiuled ill the distauee. He Avatelied tlie 
 sohliers moving ahout in parade. I Te thought 
 of liis own sons, and \\'on(h/red where tliey were 
 and if tliey Avere all safe to-day. A heavy sigh 
 csea[)ed him, and a hand fell n[>on liis shoidder. 
 He turned to faee the tall, strange, dark man 
 Avho had entered so silently. His simple and 
 cliaraeteristieally dii-eet words were not needed 
 to introdttee him. No one could ever mistake 
 the strong face that hail heen carieaiuriMl or 
 idealized ly fiiend or foe in e^■ery corner of the 
 land, hut which, after all, had never 1)eeu re- 
 produced with its simple l\)rce and rugged 
 grandeur. Before Grifiith cotild s}ieak lie felt 
 that the keen hut kindly eyes had taken his 
 meastire — he was being judged hy a reader of 
 that most diffiettlt, varied and complieated of 
 languages — the language of the human face. 
 
 " I am Abraham Lincoln," he said, as if he 
 were introducing a man of but slight import- 
 ance, ''and yon are ]Mr. Davenport. I was ex- 
 pecting you." He took Griffith'is hand and 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 211 
 
 shook it warnil}', in the hearty, western fashion, 
 which, in ]Mr. Lincohi's case, had also a per- 
 sonal quality of frankness and of a certain hu- 
 man longing for that contact of the real with 
 the real which it is the function of civilization 
 to wipe out. 
 
 " I would have known you any place, Mr. Lin- 
 coln," began Griffith. '' Your pictures *' 
 
 " Anybody would," broke in the President, 
 with his inimitable facial relaxation, which was 
 not a smile, but had in it a sense of humor 
 strue'srliiic: to. free it from its somber cast, "•• any- 
 body would. My pictures are ugly enough, l)ut 
 none of 'em ever did my ugliness full justice, but 
 then they never look like anybody else. I re- 
 member once, out in Sangamon county, I said if 
 ever I saw a man who was worse looking than I, 
 rd give him my jack-knife. The knife was 
 brand new then."' 
 
 He ran his hand through his stiff, black hair 
 and gave it an additional air of disorder and 
 stubbornness. He had placed a chair for Grif- 
 fith and taken one himself. He crossed one 
 long leg over the other and made a pause. 
 
 Griffith was waiting for the end of his story. 
 
21: 
 
 .IX I 'XOFFICI. 1 L 1\ 1 Tino T. 
 
 ]Ie concluded tluit tlicrc ^\■as to be no end, and 
 lie ventured a (quizzical (^ueiT : 
 
 '■ You don"t mean to tell me that you are ear- 
 ]'}-ing" that knife }-i't. Mr. President ?'" 
 
 Ijotli laughed. ( Irillilli felt strangel}' at home 
 already \\ith this ^^■(ln(l!•rfnl man. lie did not 
 realize that it was this particular aim which had 
 actuated Mr. Lincoln from the moment he had 
 t'litered the rnom. 'I'liis I'cader and leader of 
 men had taken the plan of his leyal j'eai's, and 
 was takiny lime to analyze his L;'uest while he 
 threw him (iff his i^aiaj'tl. In the midst of the 
 laUL;h he stretched out his lony leg and dived 
 into his trousers* pocket. 
 
 •• Xo, sir, you may not believe it, but that's 
 not the same knife ! I cariied the other one — 
 well — I reckon it nuist have been as much as 
 fifteen years — with that offer open. It lost its 
 beauty— and I didn't gain mine. It was along- 
 in the fifties somewhere, when one day I was 
 talking with a client of nunc on the corner of 
 the main street in Springlield, ami along came a 
 fellow and stopped A\ithin ten feet of us. I 
 looked at him ami he looked at me, and we l)oth 
 looked into a looking-gla.ss in the store window. 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 213 
 
 I'd tried to be an honoraljle man all my life, and 
 hard as it was to part willi an old friend, I felt 
 it was my duty to give liim that knife — and I 
 did." 
 
 There was a most solemn expression on his 
 host's face. Griffith laughed heartily again. 
 The President Avas gazing straight before him. 
 
 " I don't know \\'here that man came from, 
 and I don't know where he went to, but he won 
 that knife fair and square. I was a good deal 
 of a beauty compared to him ! " 
 
 The very muscles of his face twinkled with 
 humor. No one would have felt the homeliness 
 of his face, lit as it now was in its splendid rug- 
 gedness, with the light and glory of a great and 
 tender soul playing with its own freaks of fancy. 
 
 But before the laugh had died out of Grif- 
 fith's voice, the whole manner of the President 
 had changed. He had opened the pen-knife 
 and was drawing the point of the blade down a 
 line on the large map which lay on the table 
 beside him. 
 
 " Morton tells me that you used to be a cir- 
 cuit-rider down in these mountains here, and 
 that you know every pass, defile and ford in the 
 
•J 14 AX I'yoFFK lAL PAT 11 1 or. 
 
 SlatL'."" lie li>i)k(Ml sti'iiiylit ;it Grillilli and I'Uii 
 Ills _L;Tc'aU ])n\\\' liaml ox'rr Lis head aii<l taci', but 
 \\L'iil hastily <)ii : "1 know Imw tliat is myself. 
 T'sc'd ti> lie a kiii^lit df llic saildk'liag's out in 
 Illiiuiis. alone;- akout llie same time — only my 
 ciiTuil ^vas Ir^'al and yonrs was elerieal. I ear- 
 I'ied lUai-kslone in ni}' saddlebags — after I got 
 aide to own a eO])y — and yon had a liihle, I 
 reekoii — \()lumes of the law iii l)oth eases! Let 
 me see. How long ago AA'as that '!" 
 
 '•'•I began in t\Aenty-nine, Mr. President, and 
 rode eireiiit for ten }'ears. Then I A^as hjeated 
 and traiLsfen-ed the regular way eaeh one or two 
 years up to lifty-three. That — year- — I — left — 
 my — native — state." 
 
 ^\v. Tineolu notieed the hesitancy in the last 
 words, the change in the tone, the toueli of sad- 
 ness, lie inferred at once that what Senator 
 ]\Iorton had told him of this man's loyalty liad 
 had something to do with his leaving the old 
 home. 
 
 '' Found it healthier for you to go West, 
 did you ? Traveled toward tlie setting sun. 
 AVanted to keep in the daylight as long as you 
 could ; but I see you took the memory of the 
 
^.V UNOFFICIAL PATEIOT. 215 
 
 dear old home with you. Have you never Ijeeu 
 back ? *' 
 
 '' I don't h:)ok like nuu-h of an outlaw, do I, 
 Mr. Lincoln ? " asked (Irifhth, with a sad smile. 
 
 '' Can't say I Avould take you for one, no." 
 The President turned a full, long, searching look 
 upon him. 
 
 "Well, I liave never been back — home — I — 
 I left two freed slaves in the State when I came 
 away, and, you know " 
 
 ]Mr. Lincoln laughed for the first time alond. 
 " Ha, ha, ha. ha, ha I You remind me of a case 
 we had out in Illinois. There was an old fellow 
 trying to stock a pond he had with fish. Well, 
 that pond Avas so close to town and so handy, 
 that the boys — some of 'em about as old as you 
 and me — caught 'em out as fast as he put 'em in. 
 By and by his son got into the Legislature, and 
 one day when there wasn't a great deal of otlier 
 law to make or to spoil, he got the other members 
 to vote for a bill to punish anybody for taking 
 anytliing out of that pond. His bill said, ' for 
 fishing anything out of that pond.' Well, one 
 day a little son of his fell in and got so far from 
 shore before they saw him that they had to liter- 
 
210 AX UNOFFICIAL PATUIor. 
 
 allv lish liiiu out wilh a })()le. Soiiie (if llic lisli- 
 eniU'U around tlicrt' waiitiMl liini airt'sted for 
 violisliou of till' law lie liad passt-d to hit tliem. 
 — Fact I lie and you aiv ahout the same sort 
 of eriniiiials." Tie turned to the map ag'aiii. 
 '■ (_)f eourse I undei'stand what you mean. \ es, 
 yes, I know. These very passes and fords are 
 de.ir to \on. Some people have that sort of at- 
 tachments. I lnve. Wdiy. I'd h'cl lihe gettiiiL;- 
 (low 11 off (T mv hoi'si.' at many a place out on my 
 old circuit and just makiiiL;' love to the very 
 earth heneaih \n\ feet I < K I know how you 
 feel ! These old foi'ds are old friends. .As you 
 rode alon^- at another place, certain tliou^hts 
 came to \ou. and l-;e})t \>m com^umy for miles. 
 They would come hack lo ycairi^ht there again, 
 liight over there was a soi'iowful memory. You 
 knew the hirds that nested in this dellle, and 
 you stop})ed and put the little fellows ha(;k in 
 the nest ^^ilen they had fallen out — and they 
 Avero not afraid of you. T know how that is. 
 The_y never were afi'aid of me — none but the 
 yellowdegged chickens." Tie smiled in his 
 quizzical way. He was still testing and study- 
 ing his guest, while keeping him off his guard, 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 217 
 
 and nuildiii;- him forget the President in his re- 
 lations Avitli tlie man. 
 
 Griffith liad l)eg'un to Avondci' how lie could 
 know ahout those birds and woodland friends of 
 long ago, Init the yellow-legged ehieken joke 
 was so familiar to the preaehcr that he smik'd 
 absently, as in duty bound. 
 
 " I'm really glad to know that there are other 
 circuit-riders than Ave of the cloth who strike 
 terror to the inmates of the barnyard, but I 
 never befoi'e heard an}- one else accused of it." 
 
 '^ I ]'emend)er. once," l)egan Mr. Lincoln, re- 
 crossing his long legs and taking up the pen- 
 knife again — ''I rememl)er, once, when a lot of 
 us were riding over to a neighboring town from 
 Springfield. I had the Avroiig end of a case, I 
 know, and was feeling pretty chilly along the 
 spine whenever I thought of it. The judge 
 was with the party, and the only way I ever did 
 win that suit was by pretending not to see tlie 
 cliickens liide under the corn-shocks the minute 
 he got off his horse. He'd eat a whole pullet 
 every meal, and he got around so often they all 
 knew him— some by sight and some by hear- 
 say." 
 
iil8 
 
 .kY Vy OFFICIAL PATUIOT. 
 
 He (li-fw tlie map l(t\^"al■(l liini ami imliratufl 
 a spot l)v ImldiiiM- ilic jKiiiit (if liis Iciiifr on it. 
 
 '' Tlifix-'s a stiij) aloiiL;' limx'."" liu Leyaii. ami 
 (Triilitli ai'OM' ami l»':it n\vv \\w ma[). "'tlial I 
 (■aii"t make (.)iit. That sui'ins to Lu an dpeiiing 
 in tlio ]ii(iuiUaiiis : l)i;l '" 
 
 '•• Xo — nil."* said (iril'litli. tal^iui^- np a pencil 
 fmni the talilc •• Xn : the real optMiin^'^-the 
 road ])ass — I.(;l me see: ^\hat s tlie seah' ot 
 mih's here ? M-m-m I I-^mr? X'o — W'liy. 
 tlie mad pass is at lea^t live miles t'anlier (Ui." 
 lie dre\v a liiK.'. •• ^ lai see. it's like lliis. 
 Thel'e."" lie slopped and slioolv liis heaik 
 '•]\I-m-m! Xo. n-o-o : tliat map's all wrong. 
 It ought to rnn ahing tht/re — so. This way. 
 The road — the irn'jim ro.id — trends along liere — 
 so. Then yoti g(~) across the ridge at an angle 
 here — so. Thei'e onglit tc) Ije a stream here. 
 ( ) }isliaw I this map's — AVliei'e did you get this 
 ma}> ? It's no aeemuit. at all. '\\'liy. aeeording 
 to this, there's at least seven miles left ont right 
 here, lictween — Why. ilghi here, where 
 they've g(it those little, insignilieant-looking 
 foothills, is one of the most rugged and impas- 
 s;al)le places in this world I Here, now I " He 
 
^l.V UNOFFICIAL PATIilOT. 219 
 
 drew several lines and turned the map. '* O 
 psliaw ! there's no place left now for the — 
 Here, right a-l>o-ii-t h-e-r-e — no, there, right 
 there — is the Bedolph estate — fine old stone 
 house, corn-fields, Avheat, orehards — a sjjlendid 
 place. Then, as you go up this way, you pass into 
 a sort of pocket — a little strip pretty well hedged 
 in. You couldn't go with a carriage without 
 making a circuit around here — this way — but a 
 horseman can cut all that off and go — so. See? 
 There is a mill — fine old mill stream — right 
 here — runs this way." 
 
 ]Mr. Lincoln had followed every line eagerly, 
 making little vocal sounds of understanding, or 
 putting in a single word to lead Griffith on. 
 Suddenly he said : 
 
 " You're a good Union man ^Morton tells me." 
 
 " I am, indeed, Mr. Lincoln. Nobody in the 
 world could be more sorry than I over the pres- 
 ent situation. I " 
 
 " How sorry are you ? " 
 
 " What do 3-ou' mean ? " asked Griffith, 
 straightening up. j\L'. Lincoln arose at the 
 same time. 
 
 " How much of a Union man are you ? — 
 
220 .1^" ry OFFICIAL I'ATuior. 
 
 'iiou^li to lirlp save it? }\o\v sori'v are you? — 
 .soiTA" eiioUL;li to act ? "' 
 
 Ciril'lilli liad almost i'oigoltcu wliv lie was 
 liere. It all came l)ark to him. He l)e!.;aii to 
 breathe hard. 
 
 ''I ha\'e acl('(l. I have hcl]icil,"" he said, 
 nlo^•ill!J; towai'il ihc A\'iiido\\\ '• When you came 
 in tlie I'oom I ^\■as looking- tliroiiL;!! ihosc line 
 glasses ol y(Uii's at that hihlge. aero,>s A\liicli I 
 came in hi'ly-thrcc. scll'-i'xilcd, hastening to 
 escape from tiie hoiidage of ownership, and, at 
 the last, from llie legal p(_'nall v of leaving l)e- 
 hind me two freeil, runaway negroes. " He Iiad 
 lifted the glasses to his e\'es again. '* I thought 
 then that 1 had done my full duty — (d/ of it. 
 lUit since then I ha,\e given my three sons to 
 ynu — to my country. They "" 
 
 ]Mr. Tdncoln's luuscular hand rested on Grif- 
 litlTs shoulder. 
 
 "• Look at tliat hiidge again. Do you see 
 any dead men on it ? Do you sec young sons 
 like 3'our own dragging bleeding limbs across 
 it ? Do Y(^u sec teiTor-stricken horses strug- 
 gling Avith and trampling down those wounded 
 boys ? Do you see " 
 
AX UNOFFICIAL PATBIOT. 221 
 
 Griffith turned to look at liini, in .surprise. 
 
 " Xo," he said, " nothing of the kinth There 
 are a few sokliers moving' about down this side, 
 but there's nothing of that kind." 
 
 He offered the glasses to the President, who 
 waved them away. 
 
 " I don't need them I" and au inexpressibl}' 
 sad expression crossed his face. '^ I don't need 
 them. I have seen it. I saw it all one day. I 
 saw it all that night as it trailed past here. 
 I heard the groans. The l)lood was under that 
 Avindow. I have seen it I I have seen notliing 
 else since. If you have never seen a panic of 
 wounded men, pray to your God that you never 
 may I" The sorrowful voice Avas attuned now 
 to the sorrowful, the tragic face. '' Do you 
 see that lounge over there ? " He pointed to 
 the other side of the room. '• ]Men thiidc it is a 
 great thing to be a President of a great nation 
 — and so it is, so it is ; yet for three nights 
 while you slept peacefully in your bed I lay 
 there, when I wasn't reading telegrams or re- 
 ceiving messages, not knowing what would 
 come next — waiting to be ready for whatever it 
 might be." 
 
.1,Y UXOFFICIAL PAriUOT. 
 
 lie ^\■aite(l for the full effect of his words, 
 but (Jrilhlli (lid not speak. 
 
 ''I Avas wailiny to l)e rea(h' for wlialevci' did 
 come,"* he repealed, slowlv, '-and to Lj'ive my 
 whole soul, mind, heart, iulelleet, and I)ody. if 
 need he, to my eountrv s sei'viee. I eould not 
 sit back in mv arm-idiair and say that I liave 
 done mv shai'e — I had done enou^'h I Tf I 
 knew how to save or pi'event a repelition of 
 that hoi'i'or, had I done my share — had I done 
 my dulv — until I i/id pieveiit it?"' 
 
 (ii'iriilh l)e^'aii to luiderstand. lie saidc heav- 
 ily into a cliafr, and drew his hand slowly civer 
 his forelicad ai^'ain and a2;ain. His eyes were 
 closed, but the President was studying;' the face 
 grindv as he went on : ■•' If a. man Is di'owuing, 
 have vou done your whole duty if you swim to 
 shore and call back to hiui that you got out? 
 If "" 
 
 '^ ]Mr. Lincoln, T '" l)egau Griflith, but the 
 
 astute man heard still a note of protest in tlie 
 voice under tlie note of pain, and he did not 
 allow him to tinisli. 
 
 '•' If there is l)ut one way to stop all this hor- 
 rible suffering, this awful carnage, and there is 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 
 
 some one ^^'llo knows \\c,\x to do it, wlio is re- 
 sponsible for its continuance? This Union is 
 going to be maintained if tliere is not a soul left 
 to enjoy its blessings but the widows and 
 orphans the war for its life has made I " he said, 
 bringing his great yiuscular fist down on the 
 table, and Griffith opened his eyes and sat star- 
 ing at him Avith a pain-distorted face. '•'• This 
 war is not for fun ! It is not waged for con- 
 quest ! It is not our choice; but the people of 
 this Nation have placed me at the head of this 
 Nation to sustain its integrity— to maintain tliis 
 Union against all foes, and by the Eternal I am 
 going to do it ! You will help us if indeed you 
 are a Union man I You will desert us in our 
 hour of need if you are simply a self-indulgent 
 moralist, wdio feeds expensive pap to his personal 
 conscience, but gives a stone to his starving 
 neighbor ! This Government needs you. It 
 needs exactly Avhat you are able to give. Are 
 you its friend or its enemy ? " 
 
 Griffith liad shifted his position uneasily as 
 the torrent of words had poured from the lips 
 of the fire-inspired man before him. Lincoln's 
 long arm had flung out toward him with a gest- 
 
•224 - 1 -V ( ^y OFFICIAL PA TU lOT. 
 
 lU'L' of lipjieal, l)iit lie <li<l init wait I'd- a i*'i'iy. 
 lie IkuI not iliiislu'd piL'si'iitiiiL;- tliO ca^t.' i.i ; 
 li'^lit in \\'liirli lie felt sntt' it would loiirh vlit 
 L'liaiacter of tlie man l)"foiv liiui. 
 
 '• Arc your small personal m-cls pai-anioiiiu \ 
 those of vour coiuilry'/ lla\'c you no [ainoi- 
 ism? Have \'ou no ///(■/■.7/ u])oii oiu' soldiei's . 
 ]\Iust ]nore liundreds of lliem suif'er dei'eat and 
 death foi' tlie lack of what //"/^ can ^ive them? 
 Are you billing to receive the henetits of a free 
 country wliich you arc not willing to liclp in 
 her liour of greatest nee(l ? Can you — do you^ 
 A\'ant to leave vour young sons and the sons of 
 your ueighl)ors on the far side of the dead line 
 marked hv that l)ridgc ? '' The allusion was a 
 chance one, l)ut it struck home. 
 
 Griffith put out his hand. 
 
 '^ What do you want me to do ? " he gasped, 
 hoarsely. 
 
 Tlie President grasped his liandand held it in 
 a vieedike grip. '' What— do — I — want — you 
 — to — do ? ■' he asked, with a delihei'ation 
 strangely at variance witli the passion of his 
 words a moment ago. He looked dnwn search- 
 ingly, kindly, pityingly into the troubled eyes 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATIUOT. 225 
 
 before him. '^ Wliat do I ^^•ant you to do ? I— 
 
 ^vant you — to — follo\\- — your — conscience — 
 
 _for— the— benefit— of — your — country — in- 
 stead — of— for — your — own — personal — com- 
 fort, — until — that — conscience — tells — you — 
 your — country — needs — you — no — longer; that 
 you have, in deed and in truth, done your share 
 fully I I ^Yant you to go with an advance guard 
 down through that very country '"—his long 
 finger pointed to the disfigured map on the 
 table — '' and show our commander the real topo- 
 o-ra[)hy of that land. I want you to make him 
 as familiar with it as you are yourself. I want 
 you to show him where the passes and fords are, 
 where supplies can be carried across, where 
 water is plenty, and where both advance and 
 retreat are, possible without useless and horrible 
 slaughter. I want you — " He was still hold- 
 ing Griffith's right hand. He placed his left on 
 his shoulder again. " No man has done his duty 
 in a crisis like this until he has done all that he 
 can to hasten the dawn of peace ; " he lowered 
 his voice, " and he that is not with us is against 
 us," he said solemnly, the scriptural language 
 15 
 
2-20 .I-V T'XOFFTCTAL PATUIOT. 
 
 falliiiiL;' from his lips as if their professions Avcre 
 reverse mL 
 
 '^llow hir (h) you ^vant nie to j^'o ? " asked 
 (Jriflillu h)ohiii^' u\> \\'ith an apjieal in every 
 tense nuiscle of liis niiserahle face. *• Tt is my 
 native Slate I They ai-e my peoph' I T love 
 every foot of i^'ronml — I love those — ' He \\'as 
 l)realhinL;' so liard he stop[*e(l iV»r a moment. 
 "That ve do not think alik(_ — tliat they are 
 Avliat ^■ou eall reht'ls to our common country — ■ 
 does not chaiiL^'e m\' h)V(\ I — Mr. Lincoln " 
 
 The President si-emeij lo tower up to a, greater 
 height than even his h inner gigantic altitude. 
 He threw hoth arms out in a sudden passion : 
 " Forget 3-our love ! I'^orget your native State I 
 Forget //iiiir-^rlf .' Forget ciu^riiflihi'j except that 
 this I^nion must and shall l)e saved, and tliat//"K 
 can hasten the end of this awful earnage I " 
 The storm had sw(>pt over. He lowered his 
 voice again, and with hotli hands on the preacli- 
 er\s shoulders : '* I will agree to this. AVhen 
 you have gone so far that you can come l)aclv 
 here to me and say, ' I Jn'oir now tliat I have 
 done enougli. ]\Iy conscience is clear. ]My 
 Avliole duty is done.' AVhen you can come hack 
 
AX UXOFFICIAL PATEIOT. 
 
 here and saj- that to me — when you can say (if 
 you and I liad changed phices) that you coukl 
 ask no more of me — then I will agree to ask no 
 more of you." Then, suddenly, "When will 
 you start? To-night?" 
 
 " Yes," said Griflith, almost inandibly, and 
 sank into a cliair. 
 
 Mr. Lincoln strode to the table and pushed 
 aside the disfigured map. " I will write joiw 
 instructions and make necessary plans," he said. 
 " There is not nuich to do. The General and the 
 engineer corps are ready. I hoped and believed 
 you would go." His pen flew over the paper. 
 Then he paused and looked at his visitor. " We 
 must fix your rank. Will j'ou volunteer, or 
 shall I ?" 
 
 " Is that necessary, ]Mr. Lincoln ? I am a 
 
 preacher, you know. I Can't I go just 
 
 as I am — just — as ? " 
 
 The President had turned again to the table, 
 and was writing. Griffith stepped to his side. 
 
 " Do you realize, ^h\ Lincoln, that every 
 man, woman . and child in that whole country 
 will recoo'uize me — and ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes, I know, I know. We must do 
 
2-JS .LY UXOFFKIAL PATIIIOT. 
 
 C'V('r\'tirnig w(j can In jnotcct you {roiu all dan- 
 ger — against assassiiialimi oi' "" 
 
 "■ It is not flidf." said (iril'lith, hoarsely. '' Do 
 you cai-e nothing I'or the good-will — for the eon- 
 iideiiei — of your old neighbors Ijat-k in Illi- 
 nois ? "' 
 
 The sti-oke ^\'ent directly hoiiie. 
 
 ''Do I care for it?" Thei'e A\"as a long 
 pause. 'I'he sunken eves \\ere di;n\'n to a mere 
 line. " rd rather lose aii}"thing else in this 
 
 \\'orld. It is meat and drink to me. I 
 
 Look here, ^Iv. Davenport; don't make the 
 mistake of thinking that I don't realize what 
 I'm asking you to do — that- I don't see the saeri- 
 fiee. I do. T do, fnlly, and I waid to do 
 evervthing I cm to — to make it up to you. I 
 know you used to he greatly ti'usted and be- 
 loyed down there. Moi'ton has tohl me. He 
 told me all about the pathos of that old negro 
 follo\\'ing yon, too, and how yon made out to 
 keep lier. I know, I know it all, and I ^\■oTddn't 
 ask you if I knew liow to ayoid it. T tell you 
 that Fd ratlier giye up eyerything else in this 
 world than the good-will of those old friends of 
 mine back there in Illinois ; but if I liad to give 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 'J-iO 
 
 up llie respect and eoulidenee and love of every 
 one of tliem,or forfeit that of Abraham Lincoln, 
 Avho has s^^ol•n to sustain tliis Union, I'd have 
 to stick to old Abe ! It would g-o hard with me 
 — harder than anything I know of — l)ut it 
 would have to be done. We liave (/of to sustain 
 this Union ! We'll save her with slaverj- at the 
 South and with friends to ourselves, if we 
 can ; but, by the Eternal ! we'll save her any- 
 how ! " 
 
 He struck over and over the same chord — tlie 
 Union must be saved. Every road led back to 
 that one point. Every argument hinged upon 
 it. Every protest was met by it. He ham- 
 mered down all other questions. 
 
 '•'- If we are Union men, this is the time and 
 the place to show it. All other objects, mo- 
 tives, methods, private interests, tastes, loves or 
 preferences must yield to the supreme test — 
 What are we willing to do to save the Union ? " 
 
 Once he said : 
 
 " You don't suppose my position is particu- 
 larly agreeable, do you ? Do you fancy it is 
 easy, or to my liking ? " 
 
 " No, no, Mr. President, of course not. I un- 
 
•230 .l^V rXOFFiriAL PATHIOT. 
 
 Llorstaiid that ; ]_)ut you are liolding a pul)lic 
 otlioe. ;ui(l *' 
 
 '" So are vott,*' canie like a shot. •' Tu tiiiics like 
 this ifJI men who are or wlio liave heeu trusted l)v 
 llieir I'eHow men, are now. in a seirs^, leatk'rs — 
 are in a pul)lie positi(~)n. Idieir inlhience is for or 
 a^'ainst tliis Union. There is no neutral L;'roun(k 
 I've already l)eeu driven a good deal farther than 
 T ever expeeted to have to go, and it looks as if 
 I'd have to juinp several more fences yet : l)ut 
 voudl see me jum[) "em when the time eomes. or 
 ril l)reak my neek trying it ! "" lie ^^-heeled 
 lja(dc to tile table. '■ Here, why not let me }iut 
 yoit down as a chaplain? Cany yoit on the 
 rolls that way'? It "" 
 
 ••No, ^Ir. Lincoln, that won't do. I won't 
 agree to that. If I go it is not as cluqilain. We 
 know that, and there must l)e no }iretense. I 
 will not use my ministerial standing as a cloak. 
 I ■• 
 
 "' Yoit are right, too. I wouldn't, myself. 
 Then you won't lie with any one division long 
 at a time. You'll have to transfer as the need 
 comes. Let me see — m-m-m " 
 
 '• If I do this thine I will do it outrio-ht. I'll 
 
.l.V UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 231 
 
 ask one thing of you — I don't ^vant it known ; 
 for, of course, uone of my friends can under- 
 stand the way you h)ok at it and the way you 
 have made me see it. But when I go, I'll want 
 a good horse, and I'll ride in the lead. I'll not 
 stay back as a chaplain, nor sutler, nor as any- 
 thing but as what I shall be, God help me ! a 
 guide ! " 
 
 " Well, suppose we just call you that — Gov- 
 ernment Guide. But since it is to be such ex- 
 traordinary service — so vital to our cause — we'll 
 make your pay extraordinary, too. How does 
 a colonel's pay strike you ? " 
 
 Griflith was on his feet in a flash. lie stood 
 looking straight at the President, who had not 
 turned as he asked the question. The hands of 
 the preacher were grasping the back of his 
 chair. 
 
 " On the pay-roll," began ]Mr. Lincoln, " you 
 
 will appear as "' 
 
 " Pay-roll ! Pay-roll ! " burst from Griffith, 
 and the President turned. The expression of 
 the preacher's face was a complete surprise, but 
 the astute man understood it instantly. Grif- 
 fith was moving toward the door. "Mr. 
 
AX rX OFFICIAL rAmiOT. 
 
 Liiu'olii, you do not iinder.staiKl me. You luivo 
 mistaken Y(^ur man ! A'ou — I " 
 
 The President lia.d inllowed liim hastily and 
 his own hand readied tlie door lirst. 
 
 " Stop ! '" he said kindly. " It is //ok m'Iio do 
 not understand ii/<\ I "" 
 
 "I understood you twiee to sa\' — to offer to 
 fii/f/ me to k'ad a, hostile army — t(j take troops 
 into — to the liomes of- ^"" 
 
 " Xh), no. don"t look at it that way. It is 
 rij^'ht you should have some — sonu' — raidc — 
 
 and " lie was ^'oIul;' to utter again the A\ord 
 
 pay, liut did not. Suddeidy he thought of a 
 way out of thedilenuua. 
 
 '' You sfe. it is like this. You've got to liave 
 gruli — I'atic^ns. Now, we ean't issue rations to 
 men \\ho don't (.■xist— a.in't doing some soii of 
 service, don't y' see ? Then suppose you should 
 be eaptnrL'(l. I don't want to suppose any- 
 thing of the kind, and of course Ave've got to 
 take every })ossil)le jireeaution against such a 
 disaster — hut sup})0se you frwr eaptui'ed, unless 
 you are recognized as — unless you have some 
 status — we can't reipiire the rehels to treat you as 
 a [)risoner of war and exchange you for some 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 
 
 officer. We've got to arnuige so you will be 
 treated as a regular, and an ini]^)ortant prisoner 
 of war — don't you see? " The dangerous shoals 
 were being skilfull}' crossed. The sagacious 
 lawyer and reader of men was retrieving his 
 blunder. He passed his hand through Griffith's 
 arm, and turned him from tlie door. " That 
 Avas what I meant ! "We'll have to carry you, 
 somehow, on the rolls — for rations and things. 
 You'll mess with the General, of course, and 
 we'll see that 3'ou have the very best horse in 
 the army — you see, I know the circuit rider's 
 
 weakness. The fact is " He was leading 
 
 Griffith back to the table ^diere the great disfig- 
 ured map lay— where he deftly slipped the paper 
 containing the half-written instructions, upon 
 which the subject of pay had been begun, under 
 its edge, took another sheet in its stead, and 
 began anew with the rank and the pay left out. 
 
2o4 .IX T'XOFFTrTAL r ATT! JOT. 
 
 ''Into the v;illi'\' of deaili." — 'Trnii;/sn)). 
 
 It was arraiig'L'iI lliat llu' (•ounnaiid ^\•illl ^v]li^■ll 
 Grillitli inovi'd slioi'.ld. so far as Avas possiljle, 
 avoid I'ollisiou A\'itlL llic enemy : move silently, 
 swifllv or sloVi'lv as oeeasioii demanded, but at 
 all times do everything- jxissiLle to i^'ive to the 
 topoL;raphieal en^^'ineers a- elear, distinet and 
 minute hnowledye of the t-(nintry, so that in 
 futui'e intelligent aetion eould Le sustained. 
 It M'as thought 'wise to take as fe\v troops as 
 safetv would permit, and, Avherever kno^^ ledge 
 of tlie proxinuty of the Southeru forees Avas 
 olitained iu time, take some othei' road or retire 
 tempora-rily to the seelusion of the mountains. 
 All lighting was, if possihle, to l)e avoided. 
 This Avas the plan of operations. jVt tiihes 
 they were far inside the enemy's lines, but 
 at distant points from the opposing foree. 
 
.l.V UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 235 
 
 At other times the}' were again camped for 
 a niglit with some advance division of the 
 federal troops fartlier nortlnvard. To those 
 to whom their ol)ject Avas nnknown, their 
 movements would have seemed unaccountable, 
 indeed. 
 
 In road or pass or village, many a familiar face 
 did Griffith see, and his relief was intense, if no 
 look of recognition came into it. His fatigue 
 coat, from ^^'hich the brass l)uttons had been 
 taken, and broad-ljrimmed, cord-decorated 
 military hat, served as something of a disguise 
 with those whio had never seen him in otlier 
 than clerical garb. Often a sharp pain shot 
 through his heart as he lode through some one 
 of his old circuits, and a one time friendly face 
 looked up at him, at first with simply the 
 curiosity and dislike bestowed upon the staff 
 officers of a liostile force, and then with a sudden 
 flash of recognition, there would come, also, a 
 look of bitter personal resentment, not meant 
 for the staff, Ijut for that son of the Soutli, who, 
 as they felt, was betraying his friends. Wliat his 
 position or rank was they did not know. His 
 uniform was that of a civilian, exceiDting only 
 
.i:V" UNOFFICIAL PAIllIOT. 
 
 tlic hat; but lliat lie was in and witli and of the 
 invading- arniv A\as enough. The infoiniatioii 
 spread like wildtire. 
 
 "(iril'lilh Davenpoi't is \\\i\\ a brigade of 
 Yankees! lie knows every inch of this 
 coimtiy ! " AVhat ihis meant to l)Oth sides, Avas 
 quickly understood. IJittcrness increased. That 
 lie should l)e shot at the first op[)orlunity was 
 nniversallv conceded, (iril'iilh saw ami fell it 
 keenly. It made his heart too heavy for words. 
 Ai fii'st he spoke to the (ieiieral : •• I knew that 
 man, (ieiieral. He reeog'iiized me. Did }'oii 
 see how he turned suddenly t(^ look again? 
 Did you see '/ "' 
 
 ''Yes, I noticed, and I saw the look of hate, 
 danni him ; but you needn't lie afraid. The 
 first time any assassination business is tried 
 they will hnd who they have got to deal w'wh. 
 I'll burn every (iod-damned house I come to, and 
 shoot several eilizens in retaliation I Oh, I'm 
 not half so mild as I look I Don't you be 
 afraid I They'll all think hell has broke loose on 
 earth, if they fire from ainljush at you ! They'll 
 have to get you in open l)attle, if they want 
 to be treated with soldierly eonsideration, and 
 
.-LV UXOFFirjAL PATRIOT. 237 
 
 Avc don't inte'iid you to be in ;iiiy Ijattlc ; so don't 
 y(_)U ]x' " 
 
 ''It is not tliat ! It is not tliat, General, " 
 Griffith would say. He tried to explain. 
 
 " Well, heavens and earth I Wliat did you 
 expect ? You didn't expect 'em to li/cc it, did 
 you ? " 
 
 Griffith sighed and gave it np. Xo, he did 
 not expect them to like it. lie did not even 
 hope tliat they couhl understand it fairly, and 
 
 yet The home-coming was indeed bitter, and 
 
 Griffitli ceased to sing. He saw maps made of 
 the places he loved, and lie saw in tlie distance 
 the peaceful old haunts filled with contending 
 armies. He looked at the ti'ees that were still 
 old and warm and loyal fiiends, in spite of dif- 
 ference of creed or politics, and he dreamed of 
 them Avhen they should l)e lopped of their 
 branches and torn v.'itli shot and shell as tliej^ 
 tried vainh^ to shield with their own sturdy limbs 
 those who knew no better tlian to fight the 
 battles of this life Avith swoi'd and gun. One 
 day, as he rode slowly in advance of the rest, he 
 suddenly looked up toward the gnarled branch 
 of a great tree, wdiere he recalled that an old 
 
238 AX UNOFFICIAL PATIUOT. 
 
 friend of his liad lived. 'Die beads of three 
 tiny 8(j^uirrels peeped out, and the mother frisked 
 hard hy. *•' All," he said, aloud, ••how do you 
 do, Bunnie? Still living" at the old home-place, 
 I see ! Is it you or your gi'eat-grandehildren ? 
 There's .such a strong family likeness I can't 
 tell." The litth? animal wliisked nearer, and 
 looked with curious eyes that were not afraid. 
 '• You do not hlame me. and \nn do not liate 
 me, and von do not fear me. Bunnie. Y'>ii un- 
 derstand me helter than men do, after all.'' lie 
 sighed and toss(.'d a hit of cracker toward the 
 nest. It fell hir short, hut tlie mother-squiri'cl 
 whisked aliout here and there, and flipped her 
 tail and posed ; Init at last snatched up the prof- 
 fered gift and scampered up the tree. Griffith 
 smiled. 
 
 " I've broken bread with one of my old friends 
 at last," he said al()ud. 
 
 '•'• AVhat did you sav ? " asked the General, 
 halting suddenly. lie had lowered his voice to 
 the danger pitch, as lie had mistaken Griffith's 
 low tone for one of caution. lie lifted his 
 hand, and each of his officers down the line did 
 the same. There was an instant halt. 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 239 
 
 "What was it?" lie asked again, under his 
 breath. 
 
 " A nest of squirrels right where they were 
 fifteen or twenty years ago. I was renewing the 
 acquaintance. Th^i/ were the first old friends 
 that have not l)een afraid of — who trusted me 
 still. I was " 
 
 A volley of oaths burst forth. " Attention ! 
 ]\Iarch ! " he commanded, and as the line officers 
 repeated the command, the General's wrath 
 waxed furious. He did not dare to wreak it 
 directly upon Griflitli. He dashed back down the 
 line, swearing with that lurid facility and abandon 
 for which he was famous, at the astonished, but 
 case-hardened and amused men. 
 
 " Halted an army to talk to a God-damned 
 squirrel ! " he ground out between his wrathful 
 teeth, as he rejoined his staff. He whipped out 
 a revolver and fired at the nest. The bullet flew 
 wide of the mark, but the little heads disap- 
 peared in affright. The staff-officers looked at 
 each other and smiled. The contrast between 
 the two at their head was a source of constant, 
 mild fun. 
 
 " Broken faith with even you, haven't I, Bun- 
 
AX rXOFFICTAL PATH JOT. 
 
 nil''/"" said (Jrlliiili, softly, as lie rmle on. *•• Do 
 you iliiiik 1 threw you tlio rracker so tliat I 
 foulil the helte'i- shoot A'ou ? I (liilu"l, lUnuiie — 
 l)ut you \\\\\ never know." 
 
 A half-uille further on ririfliili halted. " Cxen- 
 eral," he sai<l, •• this is the only iihiee for some 
 distance now that we can halt for the iiight 
 under cover of a dens(,' wood ;ind still have Abater 
 near. 'J'liei'e is a. ei'eek just helow that rise. It 
 is j4-ood watei'. It citrves ai'onnd tliis wav, and 
 the hoi'ses can l_)e picketed near it and still ha 
 liid. After this it A\'ill he open cotmtiy hir ten 
 miles or more. 1 1 " 
 
 '•Haiti Throw out pickets I Dismount! 
 lireak raidcs ! "' 
 
 The orders were L;'iven and repeated. The 
 appearance of a caanp grew u[) like magic. Xo 
 fires Avere to he lighted ttntil scout and picket 
 reports came in, hut the men went ahoiit feeding 
 their horses and making ready for the tires and 
 for "grul),"' as they called it. They were glad 
 to stretch themselves. It had been a long day's 
 lide. 
 
 " AVe will signal from the rise over there, 
 General," GrilTitli said. '* If from there Me can 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PAminT. 241 
 
 see no camp-fires, there will be none near enongli 
 to detect ours. Shall I return liere, General, 
 
 or •' 
 
 " Return here. Pick your escort." 
 Griffith rode away with histliree sharpshooters. 
 The tired men watched eagerly for the signal, 
 as they lay about on the ground. A shout went 
 up when they saw it, and fires were lighted and 
 rations brought forth. A young fellow with 
 corporal's straps was liumming as he lay on his 
 back with both feet far up on the body of a tree. 
 He had carried with him all day an empty tin 
 can, and now he was making coffee in it. lie 
 turned from time to time to peer into the can 
 or readjust the sticks as they burned. 
 
 " AVe're tenting to-night on tlie old camp-ground." 
 
 His soft tenor rang out on the cool evening air as 
 
 clear as the note of a bird, despite his recumbent 
 
 position. He lifted himself on one elbow and 
 
 jDcered again into the coffee, l)ut tlie song ran 
 
 on — 
 
 " Give us a song to clieer." 
 
 A group near him was deep in a game of 
 cards. " Here I It's Tows^'s deal ! Damned, 
 
242 AX UN OFFICIAL PATUIOT. 
 
 if I d()ii"t l)L4ieYC Jim M'ould deul every liaiid if 
 he "wasn't Matched, lie '' 
 
 " Our woary heart, a son;; of lioiin' "' 
 
 " Oh, dry up ! Give us a rest ! '" 
 
 " Oueh ! Stop that ! If I don't " 
 
 "Clulis again, l)y gad ! Every time Stumpy 
 deals, its cluhs. I believe " 
 
 " And friends we love so dear. 
 Many are the hearts tliat are weary to-night, 
 Wishing -"' 
 
 The clear tenor liad risen into steady con- 
 tinuity as the young corporal sat half up to 
 shake the tin can again. The card dealer 
 joined in villi a moclcing hass, tlien suddenly, 
 voice after voice took u}) the refrain and tlie 
 very air seemed to come laden villi it, from far 
 and near. The volume of sound died A\'illi the 
 last note of the refrain, and once more the clear 
 tenor, lying on his back nov. villi both hands 
 under his head, ran softly on alone : 
 
 'We've been tenting to-niglit on tlie old camp-ground. 
 Thinking of days gone by " 
 
 He drew a letter from his breast-pocket, and, as 
 he unfolded it, stooped over and took one 
 
.1.^ UNOFFICIAL PATUIOT. '243 
 
 swallow of the coffee, aiul replaced the can on 
 the fire. Some hard tack lay beside him, and 
 one biscnit reposed on his stomach where he re- 
 placed it when he lay Ixick again, and finished 
 the verse slowly. When the refrain began 
 again, the cards were held down, men in other 
 groups straightened up from rekindling fires, 
 others stopped short in a game of c[uoits played 
 with horseshoes picked up on the banks of the 
 creek. Water carriers set down their loads, or 
 halted, with pails still in hand, and added their 
 voices to the melody. The effect amongst the 
 trees was indescribable. The picket in the dis- 
 tance half halted in his tramp, and turned to 
 listen. The moon was beginning to swing up 
 over the liill, from which the signal had come, 
 and between the trees it touched the face of the 
 delicate-featured young corporal of the sweet 
 voice, and he turned the letter to catch the light 
 from it, and add to the glow of the firelight, that 
 he might the better re-read the treasured words. 
 He was still humming softly, inarticulately, 
 now. A stick burned in two, and the can of 
 precious coffee was slowly emptying its over- 
 turned contents ou the ground. 
 
244 AX rxoFFiriAL patliot. 
 
 lliere was l)ut one bito gone from tlie bis- 
 cuit wliieli la\- oil ibf lihie coat. Music and 
 st'iitimcnt liad triunnilHMl ovc!' aji[)ctile .and the 
 vouiil;' cor[io]'a,l dozcil nl'W adcc}) now Avitli llio 
 Ictlci' still in his baud a-inl tbc nois\' players 
 al»ont biiii. Ill till' distance (irij'litb and bis es- 
 cort \vere I'eiurnini;-. Suibb'iily a sbot rauL^- 
 out in tbe clciir ail'! Tlicn aninlier and 
 anolber I Tbe nii'u wcw mi tbeir b/et in an in- 
 stant. Tla.' (iLaicrid was bastily adjusliiiL;- bis 
 bebb^'lass, but in tbc ino(inli'^4it it was ])ut 
 sliu'lit bcl|). lie coiUd sec, as tbe smoke 
 cleared away, six men instead of four. So 
 mucb be could mike out. but no more. (.)ne 
 M'as beiiii^' lifted on to a boi'sc. All A\'ere dis- 
 mounteil. Tbere was activity in tbe camp. 
 Hasty preparations Mere maib' to seufl a relief 
 parly. Wbo ^as sbot? AVbat did it mean? 
 ^\'as tlu're a;i aml)usb? A\'as ibe (niide de- 
 ceived as to tbe safety of tliis position ? Would 
 tbey liave to li^'bt or retreat? Had tbe Giude 
 been killed? Ibid some angry native seen and 
 assassinated (Tril'litb ? Tbe officers consulted 
 togetber bastily and orders Avei'c given, but 
 the little procession m'u.'^ .sbjwlj- approacbing. 
 
AX rXOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 245 
 
 They were not pursued. At least there was 
 iK)t to he a hattle — and tliere had heen a 
 capture, ])ut who was killed? Tlie Govennnent 
 Guide ? Two were walking- — were tliey tlie 
 assassin and liis eoni[)anion ? When the little 
 procession reached the picket line it halted and 
 there was some readjustment of the body they 
 were carrying, stretched between two horses, 
 wdiere it lay motionless except as others lifted 
 it. Beside it walked another figure not in the 
 federal uniform. Tall, lank, grim, and limj)ing 
 painfully, with a l>l(»od-stain on the shoulder 
 and a bullet hole in the hat. The sharp- 
 shooters had done their work — l)ut ^^dlo was it 
 — irliat was it that lay across those two horses 
 that tliC}' were leading? The whole camp was 
 watching and alert. Cards, quoits, letters had 
 disappeared. At last they could see that the 
 Body was not Griffith. He still sat astride Ins 
 splendid chestnut horse and the relief party were 
 talking to him. The procession moved to the 
 General's tent. Griffith looked pale and 
 troubled. The sharpshooters were radiant. 
 The Body was lifted down, and its long pen- 
 dant beard was matted and massed with blood. 
 
246 -ly Vy OFFICIAL rATUIOT. 
 
 Tlie pride, tlio joy, tlio aniljitioii of Whiskers 
 I)iLj'g-s \\-as l)iouglit lo\^• at last I lie was Ijreath- 
 iiiL;- still, but the feehle hand essayed in vain to 
 sirnke tlie \()luniiiious oi'nanient and and)itiou 
 of liis life. 'I'he liaud huiii;' limp and nian^'led 
 hy his side. Tlie ( ieiiei-al (piestioiied the (jther 
 pi'isoiier in y;iin. He pointed to Grillith and 
 presei'ved an nnhrnken silenee. Grillith spoke 
 to him aside. The prisoner turned slowdy to the 
 eonnnander : 
 
 '•I'll tell liiiii. Few W(^rds e()mprehend tlT 
 \\lioIe."" Then lie lapsed into silenee again and 
 notliing- e(»nld induce him to speak. The 
 Cieneral tlu'eatened, coaxed and eonnnanded in 
 vain. Tlie impeilurhal)le niotirdaineer stood 
 like one ^\•ho heard not. All that the sharp- 
 shooters eotild tell was soon told. Some one 
 had lired from ambush, apparently at Griflitli. 
 They had returned the lire instantly. Then 
 tliey had found this man \\\\o was dying and 
 the other one Ijeside him. " I know this man, 
 General," said Griffith. " He says that he 
 will talk to me alone. ^lity I — shall I " 
 
 " He'll talk to me^ God damn liim I or he'll 
 get a dose of Did you fire at our men '? " 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PAmiOT 247 
 
 he demanded of the mountaineer. Lengthy 
 Patterson .shifted bis position to relieve his 
 \voLuuh'd k^g. He gazed stoHdly, steadily, ex- 
 pression lessly before him, and uttered not a 
 sound. His gun had been taken from him, and 
 his hands seemed worse than useless without 
 this his one and only com[)anion from whom he 
 never separated. The hands moved about in 
 aimless action like the claws of some great 
 lobster. 
 
 " It will go a good deal easier with you, you 
 infernal idiot, if youdl out with your story — 
 tell your side of it. Ilow'd this thing 
 happen ? " 
 
 Lengthy glanced sidewise at the Body as it 
 lay on the ground. " Friend of mine,'' he said, 
 and lapsed into silence again. 
 
 " Will you tell me, Lengthy ? " asked Griffith. 
 "Will you tell me in the presence of the 
 General ? It would be better for us both if 
 you will. I wish •" 
 
 '' 'Twill ? " asked Lengthy giving Griffith a 
 long, slow look. " Better fer yoh ?"' 
 
 " Yes," said Griffith, iialf choking up. He 
 thought he had solved the problem of why, with 
 
248 AN UNOFFICIAL PATHIOT. 
 
 llii'sc two inountaiiiL'er in;uksiiieii as tlii'ir au- 
 lag'oiiists none of llieir part}' liad liceii sliot in 
 the eneonntei'. "• Yes, l)etlfi- for nie. Do yotl 
 care lor that, I^reno'ihy ? "" Tlie wooilsnian _i;ave 
 anotlier h)iig hiolc at (Jril'litli, and then pointed 
 witli his ihund) al the iin'ui-e on the ^-i-ouinh 
 
 '' r done hil. Whis aimed t" kill _\'oh. Few 
 
 M'ords coniii "* ({ritlilh L;-ias])ed the great 
 
 rongh, heljilessly gTojiiiiL;' hands in his. '^ I 
 thought so, I ihonglit so," he said l)rokenlv. 
 
 '".And you stotxl hy nie even lie was 
 
 your friend, and "' ( Ji'il'lith's voiee Ijroke. 
 
 In the pause thai followed Leng'thy Avas staring 
 at the form on the ground. 
 
 '' Yes. AVhis wus a. frien' er mine ; l)ut Wins 
 tuek aim at yoh. Few-words-comprehends-tir- 
 whole I "* The last sentenee seemed to ho all 
 one word. Crrillilli was still holding- the o'reat 
 bands. 
 
 '' Did 3"ou know I was with Xortliern troops, 
 Leng'thy? Did you know ?" 
 
 '' Knowed hit wus you. Didn't keer who 
 t'other fellers wus. He tuek aim. Seed whar 
 he wns pintin'^ — Few words "' 
 
 "" Are you a Union man, Lengthy ? '' 
 
.l.V UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 249 
 
 - Naw." 
 
 '•'• Hel)el, are you ? •" asked tlie General, 
 sharply. There was a profound silence. The 
 mountaineer did not even turn his head. 
 
 "I asked you if you were a rebel, God damn 
 you! Can't you hear?'' shouted the General 
 thoroughly angry. "- I'll let you know — — "' 
 
 " Are you on the Confederate side. Lengthy ? '" 
 began Griffith. The mountaineer had not in- 
 dicated in any way wliatever that he had heard 
 any previous question. '^ Naw," he said slowly 
 and as if with a mental reservation. The 
 General shot forth a perfect volley of oaths and 
 questions and threats, but the immobility of 
 the mountaineer remained wholly undisturbed. 
 There was not even the shadow of a change of 
 expression on the bronzed face. 
 
 " What the General wants to know — what / 
 want to know is. Lengthy, which side are you on? 
 Are you " 
 
 " On yourn." 
 
 " On Davenport's side against the world ! " 
 remarked a staff officer aside, smiling. The 
 mountaineer heard. He turned slowly until the 
 angle of his vision took in the speaker. 
 
250 
 
 AX UNOFFICIAL PATIHOT. 
 
 '•'• ( )ii liis side a>j;\n the woi'l". Vvw words "' 
 
 The rest was drowiicil in a siiont of hinq'hter, 
 ill "whieli the ira^cihh.' (.'oinniaiider joiiiefh 
 ( iril'titli"s eves lillr(L Leii^iliv saw — and niisiii- 
 ter}>rete(h He forq'ot th(.' wound in his ley. a,nd 
 that his trusty gun vv\is his no more. lie sprang 
 to ( ii'iihlh"s :^ide. 
 
 '•• On his side agin llie JihJI o" yuli ! " he said, 
 like a tiger at hay. The sorely tried leg gave 
 way and he fell in a hea[i at (irillith's feet. 
 
 Here! (()uiek 1 (Jeltlie surgeon. We fin- 
 got his wounds. He is shot in the leg and 
 
 here "' (Irii'tith was easing the poor fellow 
 
 down as he talked, trying to get him into a l)etter 
 position. Some one (offered him a canteen. 
 The surgeon eame and began cutting the boot 
 from the swollen leg. 
 
 ''Do i'vcrz/tJiiii;/ iov him, Doctor — everything 
 YOU would for me,"" said Griilith hoarsely. 
 '• He killed his frieml and risked his own life 
 to save me. He — ■ — '* 
 
 His voice broke and he walked aAvav into the 
 darkness. Presently Lengthy opened his eyes 
 and asked feebly, *■• Whai's the Parson ? " 
 
 "Who?"' 
 
AX rXOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 251 
 
 " Th' Parson." 
 
 " Oh," said the siirg-eon kindly, " you want 
 the Cliaplain. Oh, you're not going to die ! 
 You're all right ! You've lost a lot of blood and 
 stood on that leg too long, but " 
 
 '' Whah's Parson Dav'npoht ? " 
 
 A light dawned upon the surgeon. He had 
 never thought of Griffith as a clergyman only 
 as he had heard it laughed over that the General 
 swore so continuously in his presence. He sent 
 for Griffith. When lie came Lengthy saw that 
 his eyes were red. He motioned the others to 
 go away. Then he whispered, " Th' other fellers 
 — our soldiers — th' " 
 
 " You mean the Confederate troops, the 
 Southern men ? " asked Griffith, and Lengthy 
 nodded ; " Jest over yander. Layin' fer ye." 
 
 " I looked everj'where for smoke. Lengthy. 
 I didn't see any signs of camp fires. I " 
 
 " Jest what me an' Whis was doin' fer t'other 
 side when we seed ye. Hain't got no fires. 
 Hain't goin' t' make none." 
 
 " Do you mean that you were doing a sort of 
 scout or advance duty for the reb — the Confeder- 
 ates, when you met us, Lengthy ? " 
 
l>rvi .LY iWOFFICIAL I'ATHloT. 
 
 lie nodded. '-Jest tliet."' 
 
 '■'• You were t»)_L;'<i back and tell lliein alxuu '' 
 
 "We was. Saw you. Didu"! go. lliiu"u' 
 me quad'd "Ixiut "" 
 
 "• About sliooliiig me ? "" 
 
 Leiig'tliv iKxIdcd again. ■• lie aiuKMl at ye. I 
 gdt him fust." There was a hmg pause. 
 
 '•'Do you want to go 1_)a(d^ to your eanip, 
 Lengthy, if "' 
 
 '•'• Xaw." 
 
 Presently lie said : •■ The^-'s mo" o" them then 
 thev is o* you alls." 
 
 (iril'lUh grasped his idea. "You thiidc we 
 better leave here ? You thiidc they will attaek ? " 
 
 " Kill h'ave melayin" here. They'll git me — '\i 
 liini ;" he [loiiited with his thiiml) again toward 
 the friend of his life — the body that lay await- 
 ing bttrial on the morrow. 
 
 ''"VVotild 3'ou ratlier go Avith us?"' began 
 Griffith, and the swarthy faee lightened up. 
 
 " Kin you alls take me ? "" 
 
 " Certaiid}', certainl}-, if you want to go. We 
 won't leave you. The General " 
 
 " Hain't goin' witli him. Goin" "th 3'OU." 
 
 "All right, all rii-ht, Leno-thy. You shall go 
 
^.V UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 253 
 
 with ))!(' and you shall sta// with me." The 
 mountaineer turned his head slowly. The nar- 
 cotic the surgeon had given was overcoming 
 him. He did not understand it, and he Avas 
 vainly struggling against a sleep w'hicli he did 
 not comprehend. 
 
 " You — alls— Ijetter — light — out. They is mo' 
 o' them and— the}" — -is mad — -plum — through. 
 Few — words — com — com "" 
 
 The unaccustomed effort at linguistic elabora- 
 tion exhausted him, and, together with the sleep- 
 ing potion, Lengthy was rendered unconscious of 
 all pain, and an hour later he was borne on a 
 stretcher between two horses as the engineers' 
 party silently retraced its steps and left the camp 
 deserted and desolate with its one silent occupant 
 lying stark in the moonlight, with its great mass 
 of matted beard upon its lifeless breast. 
 
254 AX T'XOFFiriAL PATRIOT. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 " At first happy news caiiu'. in uay li'tters moiled 
 With my kisses. — of camp life and glory." 
 
 Brovnilng. 
 
 The fall and winter ^vore on. Spring Avas 
 near. Orilliili AVfote to Katlierine daily and 
 mailed liis letters wln'iievei' and wherever it Vv"as 
 jjossilde. His persdiial reports of progress went 
 with regnlaritv to Mr. Lineoln. and an oeeasional 
 note of eongratnlation or thanks or eneourage- 
 ment came to him in reply. ^Meantime tlic 
 .\rmy of the Potoniae did little l)tit wait, and 
 the armies of tlie South and West were active. 
 Letters from the boys came to Katlierine with 
 irregnlar regularity. Those from Howard were 
 alwavs brief and full of an irresponsible gurgle 
 of fun and heroics. He had l)een in two or three 
 small fights, and wrote of them as if he had en- 
 joyed an outing on a pleasure excursion. He 
 said in one that when he was on picket duty he 
 had '' swapped lies and grul) "" with the picket 
 
AN UXOFFICIAL rATEIOT. 255 
 
 on the other side. '■' He tried to stuff me Avitli 
 a lot of fiction about the strength of their force 
 — said the}' had not less than ninety thousand 
 men in front of us ready to lick us in the morn- 
 ing. I told him tliat I'd just happened l)y acci- 
 dent to hear our roll called, and it took two days 
 and a night to read the names of our officers 
 alone. He was a crack liar but I reckon we got 
 off about even. He had the worst old gun I 
 ever saw. It came out of the ark. He admired 
 mine, and it was a tip-top Enfield, but I told him 
 it was just an old borrowed thing (the last of 
 which was true) and that my own was nearly as 
 big as fifty of it and would shoot ten miles. He 
 kicked at me and laughed, but I didn't tell him I 
 was a gunner in a battery. A battery is a jim- 
 dandy of a place. I get to ride all the time. 
 That suits me right down to the ground. I 
 Laven't had a scratch yet and I'm not afraid I'll 
 get one." His letters rattled on in some such fash- 
 ion whenever he remembered or exerted himself 
 enough to write at all. They developed in slang 
 as the months went by, and Katherine smiled 
 and sighed. 
 
 Beverly's letters kept up their old tone, and 
 
256 AN UXOFFiriAL PATIUOT. 
 
 Ill' tri('(| in cviMT Avay lit' could think of, to 
 (•lu'cr Ills iiiolluT. lie had a\ holly re('o\-('i'cd, 
 he said. IVdiii his wounds, and ^vas now \^■ilh 
 (li-aiit ill 'I'ciiiK'ssei'. \\v drst/rihrd the- Ioiil'; 
 moss on tho ti'(H's, and wrote : "■ We are iiioviii^' 
 iio\v toward ('oriiith. That is the ohjcct i\-;' 
 point. ] A\'a> (ransrcrrf(l a nionih a;_;'o 1()( Jraiit's 
 army, and so, unless lo)\- has ])vr]\ transh-rred 
 sinee you wrot<' me last, J"ll get to see him in a 
 few da_vs, I hojic. That will he gooij. It seems 
 as if Wf hoys had traveled a pretty long- road 
 in the matter of age and experience since we 
 were at home together. I'm glad to hear of 
 Ivoy's promotion — ihc handsome' fellow I And 
 so it was for conspicuous hravery at Fiirt Donald- 
 son, AA'as it? (iood! (Jood! .Vh, we can l)e 
 proud of Koy, mother. And he got only a little 
 flesli-wound in it all, and did not have to go to 
 the hospital at all! What lucky dogs we l)oys 
 are, to he sure. I hope father is home with 
 you hy this time. Of course, I understand the 
 ominous silence and inaction in Virginia — in the 
 armj'- of the Potomac— as only a few of lis can. 
 But I do hope that father will do all the Presi- 
 dent asked of liim, and get home before they 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. o^^l 
 
 luulertake to act upon tlie information he is en- 
 abling them to gather. Yes, yes, mother, I know 
 how terribly hard he took it, and how silently 
 heroic he is and will be, God bless him ! But 
 after all, mother mine, y/o^frpartif? about the hard- 
 est of all to bear. I think of that more and more ! 
 To sit and wait ! To silently sit and ^vait for 
 you know not what. To take no active part ! 
 Oh, the heroic patience and endurance that must 
 take I But don't Avorry about us. The fact is 
 that we are not in half so much danger as you 
 think. When one comes to know how few, 
 after all, of the milli(ins of rounds of ammunition 
 tliat are hred, ever find their mark in human 
 flesh, one can face them pretty courageously. 
 We were talking it over in camp the other day — 
 a lot of the officers. I really had had no idea 
 what a safe place a battle-field is. It seems that 
 out of 7260 balls fired, only ten hit anybody, and 
 only one of those are serious or fatal ! Just look 
 at the chances a fellow has. Why he doesn't seem 
 to be in much more danger than he is that a 
 brick will fall on him as he walks the streets, 
 or that he'll slip and break his neck on the ice. 
 
 Doesn't seem so very dangerous, now, does it, 
 17 
 
258 .i-V rxoFFjriAL PAiiuor. 
 
 iiidllicr '.'' Now, I want you to rcnii'inliur tliose 
 fiynics, for tlievarL' correct. TIk'U you rciueni- 
 l)L'r tliat I ;_;ot uiv tlircc — wliicli i> uiorc tlian my 
 sliaic of l)alls. ill till' very lii'st li^lil I \\'as in; 
 so \'ou sec /'/// not likclv to !_;ct any more Koy 
 liad 1 II If, so liis cliaui-o to calcli any moi'c is poor : 
 ami as for Ilowanl — well, soiurliow or <illii'i'. I 
 never feel tlie least aiixifiy ahoiit Howard. 
 IleM |iull tlii'on^li a knot-liole if llie knot was 
 still in il. He is so iri-esistil)ly. in'esponsil)ly, 
 recklessly indifferent. l>ut at all events, 
 motlier, don't woriy too mu(di. \i\' only anx- 
 ietv, now, is to Lear tliat iallier is at home 
 ag'ain : koili for your sake and foi' Lis. Ye 
 o'ods ! wliat a terrific saci-iiice tlie President 
 demanded of Lim I And ^\dlat a stuLl)orn 
 heroism it has taken to make father do il. — \\\v\\ 
 liis temperament and feelings, — a heroism and 
 patriotism l)evond even tlie eom[)re]iension of 
 most men. Ciive liule Margaret the enclosed 
 note, please. I don't know that she can read it, 
 l)Ul I wrote it a:^ [)lain as T could on this shingde. 
 We are moving pretty steadily now. AVe stopped 
 to-(lav, to let the supplies catcdi up. We start 
 ae-ain in an hour or so. We are all I'eady now. 
 
AX UNOFFICIAL PATUIOT. lifj'J 
 
 I never cease to be glad that you have old aunt 
 Judy, and that she continues such a comfort, 
 — and trial. Give her ni}- love, and tell the gentle 
 and huxoni Rosanna, that if she were in this 
 part of the country she'd ' see the loikes av 
 me ' at every turn. Soldiers are thicker than 
 peas in a pod, and she'd ]iot have ' to go fur t' 
 foind the loikes av me ' multiplied hy ten thou- 
 sand, all of whom 'become their soger close' 
 quite as truly as did tlie undersigned when the 
 admiration of Rosaima for nie Idossomed forth in 
 such eloquence and elaboration of diction. This 
 seems rather a frivolous letter ; but I Avant you 
 to keep up good heart, little mother. It won't — 
 it can't — last nnich longer, and just as soon as 
 father gets home, I, for one, shall feel quite easy 
 ao-ain. I hope he is there by this time, with his 
 part all done. The last letter I got from him, 
 he thought it would not take much longer to 
 do all they expected him to do, now. Dear 
 old father ! His last letter to me was an in- 
 spiration and a sermon, in living (as he is), 
 without the least bit of preaching in it. He 
 doesn't need to preach. He lives far better 
 than any creed or than any religion ; but— — " 
 
l^OU .l.V IWOFFICIAL I'ATlHO'i: 
 
 Katlii'i'iiir l)i-((l;c (lu 1111(1 jioikIltlmI. Was Bev- 
 ei'lv still icailiiiL;- I'lioiuas Paiiir? Jf lie were 
 to Ix- kilkMl! AVhat <li<l lie believe? -Lives 
 fai' better than any creed or lliaii aiiv reli^'ion," 
 wlial (liil lie mean? Had iieverlv l)eeo!iie 
 opeiilv an uiil;elic\er in d'eeils and I'eli^ions ? 
 Idle tliou^lit aliii(i>t iVii/c her 1)1(1(1(1. She fell 
 upon her knees and A\"ept and |ii'a\'e(l — not for 
 her son's life to he s[iar(.'d from tlu.' l)uluds 
 of the eiieiin', as \\-as her hahit. hut that the 
 'shafts of th(_' destroyer"" nuLdit spare his soul! 
 Her cup of anxiety and soir(.)\v A\as embittered 
 and made to overflow by the sincei'ily of a 
 beli(d' M'hicli was so sim[)le. and knew s(t little of 
 evasion, that the bottomless pit did, indeed, 
 yawn before her for this sou of her youth. 
 
 "Save him I save himl"' she moaned aloud, 
 'Mf uot from death, at least from destruetion, 
 oh, (iod of my salvation ! " 
 
 The teri'tirs whi(di should ftdlow unbelief had 
 been long- ago, in lier rigid Presbyteriau liome, 
 made so mueli a part of her very uature, that 
 the siui[)le, cheerful, happ}' side of Griffith's 
 religion, which had been u})permost all these 
 years, had not even yet, iu eases of unusual stress, 
 
.l.Y UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 2G1 
 
 obliteiutt'd the liorrorof Katlierine's literal belief 
 in and fear of an awful hell, and a vengeanee- 
 vi^iting God for tho.se Avho slighted or ques- 
 tioned the justiee or truth of a cruel revelation 
 of Ilini. .V great and haunting fear for Bev- 
 erly's sold eclipsed her fear for his life, and 
 Katlierine's religion added terrors to the Avar 
 that were more real and dark and fearful than 
 the real horrors that are a natural and legiti- 
 mate part of a cruel, civil contest. The " com- 
 forts," to a loving heart and a clear head, of 
 such a religion, were vague and shadowy ; in- 
 deed. Its certain and awful threats were like a 
 llannng sword of Avrath ever before her ej'es. 
 To those who could evade the personal applica- 
 tion of the tenets of their faith, who could ac- 
 cei»t or reject at will the doctrines they pro- 
 fessed, who could wear as an easy garment the 
 parts they liked, and slip from their shoulders 
 the features of their " revelation " to which the 
 condition of their own loved ones did not re- 
 spond, there might be comfort. But to Kath- 
 erine there was none. Her faith was so real 
 and firm, that it did not doubt a literal damna- 
 tion, ]ior could she read from under the decree 
 
202 AX T'XOFFKTAL PATHIOT. 
 
 tliose slic 1i)V(m1, simplv ln-rausc she loved llieni. 
 .Vii eternal decree of suffering" Iuuil;' (jver her 
 lirst-l)orii, tlie idol of hrr s(.)ul ! The awful 
 burden of her religion A\'as almost more than 
 she couhl l»eai' in tlu'sc days of i'car and loneli- 
 ness, slinmlaleil as il A\-as hy ihe cxer-present 
 thi'eal and shadow t)f death for the Lunh that 
 had slraved. even so little, fi'om the ortlaulox; 
 fold. Her (lavs -wei'e douhl\' hurdeni/d hv the 
 new anxiety, shado\\'ed hv the I'eal, and haunt- 
 (mI hy the agony of fear for the imaginarv, 
 danger to her son. In her dreams, that night, 
 she saw him stand hefore an angry and aveng- 
 ing (iod, and she awoke in a verv panic of 
 dtdirium and mental anguish, (ireat l)eads of 
 moisture stoml upon her hrow. '"Save him! 
 save him ! oh, (iod of our salvation I "' she cried 
 out, and little Margaret stirred uneasily in licr 
 hed. 
 
 '^Wat dat, honey? Wat dat y.)h say, ]Mis' 
 K'ate I "" called out Jtidy from her cot in tlie 
 next ro(_)m. " Did yoh call me. Mis" Kate '! " 
 
 " X(», no, aunt Judy, I had a had dream. 
 I ■• 
 
 The old woman hoLhled in. '• Xow, des look 
 
^.Y UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 263 
 
 alieali, honey, ties yoli stop that kiiie er dreams, 
 now. Dey ain't no uste t' nobody, an' dey des 
 makes bad wuk all de way 'roun'. An' "sides 
 dat dey ain't got no sense to "em, noliow." 
 Poor old annt Judy, lier philosophy was deeper 
 and trner than she knew or than her mistress 
 snspected ; bat tlie sound of her kind old voice 
 comforted Katherine as no philosophy could. 
 
 " Dar now, honey, yoli des lay right down dar 
 'n' go to sleep agin. Yoah ole aunt Judy des 
 gwine ter stay right heah twell yoah sheer gits 
 gone. Dar now, dar now, honey, dem kine er 
 dreams is all foolishness. Dey is dat ! Now, I 
 gwine ter set heah an' yoh des whorl in an' dream 
 sompin' good 'bout Mos Grif, dat's what you 
 do ! Aunt Judy gwine ter set right heah by de 
 bed. Dar now, honey ! Dar now, go sleep." 
 
2G4 AJSf UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 
 
 CIIAPTKIi XVIII. 
 
 " Into Ihc j iws of (Icatli, 
 Into till.' mouth of hell."' 
 
 Tiiuu/siJit. 
 
 It liad raiiicfl in lorivnts. The .stil't' clay of 
 tlic iiiuddy roads was ankle deep. Iu)y"s regi- 
 nieid in eamp near tlie Tennessee river was 
 wliiliiiL;' away its lime ;is best it eould. It 
 was o-cneralh" nndcrstodd lliat tliey were to Ije 
 joined in a day or two ]>y I'einforeenients, and 
 then mareli on to Corinth. I\oy knew that 
 Beverly was to he ^\■ith llie expected eouiniaiid. 
 The young- lieutenant — a lirst lieutenant now — ■ 
 was proud and eag'ei'. He thought it would be 
 a Ihie thing for liini and In'\'erly to fight side 
 l)_y side. He meant to show Beverly that lie 
 A\as no longer a l)oy. A soft silken mustache 
 liad come to accent his fresh complexion, and 
 he was as handsome and ttill and graceful and 
 erect as a 3'ouiig soldier need be. lie carried 
 
 \ 
 
.l.Y UNOFFICIAL FATBIOT. 265 
 
 liinisclf with peculiar grace, and he was an inch 
 taller than Beverly, now. lie hoped that he 
 would be taller than his brother, and he walked 
 very erect, indeed, as he thoug'ht about it. 
 Then he smiled to himself and said half aloud, 
 '^ He will be here to-morrow, and I shall give him 
 a o-reat welcome — and a surprise." This was his 
 last tliought as he turned on his side, and fell into 
 a soldier's dreamless slee[), in spite of rain and 
 mud, in spite of iioise and confusion, in spite of 
 danger and anxiety. 
 
 It was the night of the ilfth of April. Roy 
 had planned to appear very splendid to his 
 brother on the morrow. He had shaved freshly 
 and brushed his uniform, and rubbed up Ins new 
 shoulder straps. Ilis sword was burnished, and 
 the l)oy had smiled to himself many times as he 
 Avorked over these details, to think how vain he 
 was, and liow anxious that Beverly sliould look 
 pleased and proud when he should see him at 
 his best. He seemed to have slept only a little 
 while when there straggled into his conscious- 
 ness the sound of a shot, then another and an- 
 other; then a sudden indescribable noise and con- 
 fusion roused him wdiolly. He sprang to liis feet. 
 
266 Ay ry OFFICIAL patiuot. 
 
 The gray of tlie dawning' day was here. Bugles 
 were souridiiig. Confusion, noise, action was on 
 all sides. The camp had l)een surprised ! The 
 enemy \\'as Ti[)on llicm ! (ii'a|ie. canister and 
 Eidield halls toiv througli tlie teids. Slu-lls 
 hurst; tlie ilrst vision that met liis eves as he 
 I'uslied forth, was a liorse of one of tlicii' own 
 hattei'ics, struggling, moaning, wliiinn'ing piti- 
 fully with hoih foi'edcgs torn a\\'a\\ and the 
 cannon half o\'i'i-lurii(Mh An onrushiiiL;' foi'ce of 
 Confederates shouting in lriuiu[ih. As his own 
 regiment tried to form in line, three terrified 
 horses tore past dragging their felloAW and ^vhat 
 was left of the dismantled camion. Thev were 
 wounding each other cruelly in their mad 
 frenzy of pain and fi'ighl. ddiey fell in one 
 ]nass of struggling, suffering, panic-strieken lle.-^h 
 into the river and drowned, "wilh their harness 
 hinding tlnnn together, and to the wreck of their 
 dismantled hurdeii. EverNnliing was confusion. 
 Each regiment was doing its l)est to form and 
 re[)tdse the teri'ihle onshiught. The surprise 
 liad l)een complete. The scouts had heen sur- 
 rounded and captured, and the pickets killed or 
 driven in at the first charge which had aAvakened 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATBIOT. 267 
 
 the sleeping camp. Tlie lioinirs, the disasters 
 and the triumphs of Shiloh liad begun ! 
 
 There was no time to tliink. Action, alone, 
 was possiLle — tlie intuitive action of the soldier. 
 The men formed as best they could, and fought 
 as tliey fell back, or as they advanced a step, 
 with dogged determination to retrieve lost 
 ground. Some were driven into the river, and 
 when wounded, fell beneath its waves to rise no 
 more. The intrepid Confederates followed up 
 their first dash Avitli persistent determination, in 
 spite of the forced march which had preceded 
 the sui'prise, and in spite of hunger and un- 
 certainty when their supplies might come. 
 They aimed at nothing short of capture. Then 
 supplies would be theirs without dela}'. But 
 every foot of ground was being stubbornly con- 
 tested. Now a gain was made, now a loss. Both 
 sides were fighting with that desperation which 
 makes certain only one thing as the issue of the 
 battle — -the certainty of an awful carnage. At 
 such a time it does not seem possible, and yet it 
 is true, that a sense of reckless humor finds place 
 and material to feed its fancy. A good-natured 
 badinage held possession of many of the men. 
 
t2<;S AN rXOFFK'IAL PATRIOT. 
 
 ]{(»y's r('_L;iiiK'iit had ])ccn driven bark 1))' tlie 
 first sudden (innisli. It luul formed and fou^Ilt 
 a> it Wfnt, l)Ut il liad nndoulAi'dly l)een foreed 
 from its position of advantaL;L' on tlie rise of the 
 hill. Thi'V were strn^'L;'linL;" des[)L'rately to 
 reg'ain it. Every man seemed di'lcrmined to 
 stand aL^a.in ^^•hel■e he ]ia<l stood an hour l)efore 
 or diu in the atli.'m[)t. A larye pieee of })a.])er 
 |inni('(l to a tri^e witli a lia\-oiiel, attracted Roy's 
 alt(_'ntion as the smolco was liftci] for a moment, 
 while they ])Ushed foj-ward iiieh hy inch. The 
 l)oys had st'en its like before. They understood 
 and it acted like a, stimulant u[)on them. Some 
 of the hoys la\tL;-hed inUri^ht. The smoke hid the 
 paper. The next volley hail (haven the Confed- 
 erates a step farther hack. The ground w"as 
 strewn Avith their men, lyini;- side In side with 
 those wlio liad fallen from the Xorthern raid^s 
 at the first dash of the enemy. The tree with 
 the paper ^^■as a tritle nearer. 
 
 '•• C'liarq-e foi- that ehalleno-e, hovs I Charo'e ! " 
 shotited Roy, and they responded with a yell 
 and a murderous volley as they ran. It was 
 almost within reaeh now, l)ut the men who had 
 posted it fought like tigers to hold their ground. 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL 1' ATI! JOT. 'JCiD 
 
 '^ We'll g-et it, l)o_vs I We'll get it I " rang out 
 with the roar of the l)attle. At last the tree 
 was only a few feet away. A private dashed 
 out of the line, and grasped the bayonet that 
 held the coveted paper and swung it aloft. The 
 challenge w'as captured I Even the boys Avho 
 lay on tlie ground joined in the triumphal shout 
 and one of them volunteered to reply. lie had 
 a good arm left ! He took a pencil from his 
 l)reast pocket, and turned his body painfully, 
 slowly, so that he could write. The stock of 
 his gun was desk enough. He read the captured 
 
 paper and laughed. "• The ■ La. presents 
 
 its compliments to the — — - Ind., and intends to 
 thrash it out of its b(^ots — as usual.'' 
 
 The wounded man turned the paper over and 
 
 wrote : " The Ind. returns its compliments 
 
 to the La. and ex[)resses a desire to see it 
 
 accomplish the jol)." He was so near to the tree 
 that he thought he could drag himself to it and 
 post up the repl}^ on the far side, but his legs 
 were numb and hel[)less, and the pain of drag- 
 ging himself on hands and hips conquered him. 
 He looked all about him. The ambulance 
 workers had come, not far away, to carry off the 
 
270 ^^"V UXOFFIf'TAL PATIUOT. 
 
 wounded. (Jiie came neiir and offered to help 
 liini. 
 
 "• IMii that })a})cr to the far side of that tree, 
 first," he said, \y\\]\ a grim smih'. *• Til wait." 
 
 The man i'efnse(h hut the wounded feUow 
 essaying- to di'ag liimself towai'd it again, lie 
 yiehle(h and the return eliallenge was posted. 
 
 Two liours hiter its work was done. The 
 
 Tva. held tlie hill again ! A l.iughing shout AA'ent 
 U[i. It might ha\(_' heeii a warndy t'ontested 
 game of hiothall, so free from m;iliee \vas it. 
 
 All over the gi'eat haltlf-tield the work of the 
 day ^\"as hack and forth over the same Idoody 
 and trampled ground. The nuid of the morning 
 took on another ting(' of red. and the mingled 
 hlood of the gallant fellows wlio gave their 
 lives for tlie side they had espoused made hid- 
 eous mortar of tlie ghastl}' saeriilce. The river 
 ran on its way to the sea, floating the costliest 
 driftwood ever cast hy man as an offering to liis 
 own passions, mistakes, and amhitions ; a drift- 
 wood pale and ghastly, clad in gray or in hlue, 
 and scattering from !Maine to Texas, from 
 ocean to ocean, the sorrow that travels in the 
 wake of Avar, the anguish of those wlio silentl}" 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 271 
 
 wait liy tlie fireside, for the step that will 
 never come, for the voice that is silent forever! 
 Ah, the ghastliness of war ! Ah, the costliness 
 of war ! It is those who do not fight who pay 
 the heaviest debt and find its glory ashes ! 
 
 On the hill was the rivalry of the challenge. 
 It gave grim hnmor to the contest. Three chal- 
 lenges were taken, and three replaced, before 
 the sunset brought that suspension of effort 
 which left the hill, the tree, and the final glory 
 of the day in the hands of the Confederates. 
 The drawn battle was over for the night, but 
 the trend of the victory was southward, and the 
 heavens once more deluged the dead and dj'ing 
 with the pitiless downpour of chilling rain all 
 the night long. In the northern camp the tired 
 men slept in spite of rain and mud and distant 
 cannonading. With the slain beside them, the 
 groans of tlie dying about them, the echo of the 
 conflict in their ears, the promise of the struggle 
 of the morrow, still the tired men slept ! In 
 the Confederate camp sleep was impossible. The 
 Federal relief boats had come ! To-morrow fresh 
 men would fill the Northern ranks. Meantime 
 the thunder of the great gunboats continued the 
 
.l.V rXOFFlf'TAL PATIUOT. 
 
 iiiu'(|U;il (Miutfst. Sli(»i ami shell fell ■\\-iili the 
 rain into tlif ( diilVdL'rate caiiii). \\\ iiiglit lliu 
 l)()iiil>ai-iliii('iit Meiit i»ii. The river wa.s tinged 
 wilh led, the heavens ke[)t up the uhl I'efrain 
 ami v.cjit fur the sins, the mistakes, the- ci-uelties 
 of men, ami still the tireil soldiers slept and 
 Availed for the m(>]'i'<i\v — and Mhat ? There 
 would he no more siu'pi'ises at least. Both under- 
 stood ]io\v that it \\'as a sluhhorn tight. I5oth 
 knew that ihe I'einforeenieiits AVere here for the 
 Fe(leral troops. I'iekets and scouts XA'ere Avide 
 awake now : no danger of another sui'prise. .Vll 
 night the relief eorps A\'orked. ^\11 night the 
 distant echoes from the guid)oats hrought hope 
 to the one and despei'atioii to the other army. 
 .Vll night the surgeons lal>ored. .Vll night 
 stragglers came in dragging A\"(nuided limhs. 
 All night stiffeiing liorses neighed and \\hinnied 
 and struggled and at last die(l fi'om loss of hlood 
 — and still men slept ! ^Vh, the Idessed ohliviou 
 and relief of sleep I If to-morrow"s action nmst 
 come, then to-iught nature must restore the 
 wasted energy, and repair the deathly exhaus- 
 tion, — and men sle[)t I Soaked through with 
 rain, begrimed with smoke and with mud, 
 
.l.Y UNOFFICIAL PATIUOr. 
 
 assailed with groans and witli tliat insidious foe 
 of rest, uncertainty, still men slept, soundly, 
 profoundly, dreamlessl}' ! 
 
 The fn'st gray streak of dawn brought a l)ugle 
 call : another, another. The clouds ^^■ere clear- 
 ing away. Nature was preparing to A\'itness 
 another and more desperate struggle. Tlie 
 dreamless sleep, that had refused to yield to 
 hunger, pain, uproar or anxiety, yielded at the 
 first note of the reveille. Every man was- awake, 
 alei't, active. The rain and action-stiffened 
 limbs were ready for duty again. The seventh 
 of April had dawned. Reinforcements would 
 soon land ; but the battle was on before they 
 could disembark. Tlie Confederates, flushed 
 M'ith the advantage of the day before, were 
 determined to overwhelm even the new force. 
 The battle was on. Roy, the spruce, trim, 
 handsome young lieutenant of the da}" before, 
 waiting for his brother with proud, brotherly 
 anxiety, was a sorry sight to-day, but that did 
 not trouble him. His new shoulder-straps 
 were tarnished, his sword ■was marked with 
 an ugl}^ red stain, his freshly brushed uni- 
 form was bespattered and wrinkled and wet, 
 18 
 
274 Ay rXOFFTf'IAL PATRIOT. 
 
 mud-citvered and toni : l)ut liu was iinliurt save 
 for the track of a Miiiit.' l)all under the skin of 
 liis left anil. To that he g-a\'e no hi-etL A 
 pLister of the pottery ehiy. self-applied, had 
 taken the soreness almost away, and as Roy 
 stood at the head of his eoni[)anv to-day and took 
 the place of the ca])tain, \y]\n WDuld i^es^xiiid to 
 roll-call no nir)i'e, he was v,-(»nderin^- if Beverly 
 Avotild lie \\illi iht! ti'00[).^ that would land, and 
 if thev W(tuld help sa\'e the day. lie hoped 
 that In'verly Mould he there, and yet — after the 
 sights and experien^'es of yesterday — <h'<I he 
 hope that Ijeveily would he there'/ IJeverly 
 might be killed! He had not thought of that 
 tlie day before, nor had it trindded him for him- 
 self ; but as he looked abottt him now or bent to 
 see if an old comrade were really dead, or only 
 unconscious, he somehow felt glad that Beverly 
 liad not been there tlie da}' Ijefore. Ah, these 
 hearts of ours ! — these liearts of ours I What 
 tricks they plav tts I What cowards they make 
 of us I What seliishness they ])reed in its I 
 For ourselves we can be brave, defiant, even 
 jocose, in the midst of danger or of sorro\'\' : but 
 for those we love ! Ah, for those we love, our 
 
AX UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 275 
 
 pliilosopliy is scant comfort, our courage is un- 
 dermiueJ l^efore it is tested, and we are helpless 
 in tlie face of Love. We can walk bravely 
 enough into the mouth of a cannon, but Love 
 disarms us, and we cry for mercy where we did 
 not shrink from death ! 
 
 Roy wondered how much Beverly knew of 
 the battle, and if his heart was anxious, also. 
 lie knew Beverly's division was expected, but 
 ho thought as he fought, " I reckon Fd just as 
 lieve Beverly shouldn't Ije with them. If lie 
 were on sick leave or — or — something." He 
 felt a little sense of shame for the thought, and 
 fought the more determinedly because of it. The 
 gallant Confederates were flushed by their gain 
 of the day before. Xo one would have dreamed 
 that tliey were exhausted by a long march be- 
 fore the surprise. No one would have dreamed 
 that they were hungry, and that their supply- 
 wagons had not come up until long after the 
 struggle. No one would have dreamed that 
 they had been kept up all night by the bom- 
 bardment from the distant gunboats. No one 
 would have dreamed that out of that intrepid 
 —— Louisiana, with its challenge again on th§ 
 
276 AY rXOFFK'lAL PATUIOT. 
 
 tree tlici'e, WdiiM never muster again over three 
 liundrLMl and t\\-riity-seven of tlie six Imrulred 
 iiuTry fellows who Hung- tlieinsclvfS up tliat 
 hill only twi'h't' short lioui's ago I 
 
 "()nr side het is np. hoys, l:)y thr jiiinping 
 jingo!*' said one of the relieved plidvets the 
 hrsi thing in the morning. "It is written on a 
 slah this time. I don't know when thev got it 
 ujt. I laid for it all night, and \\-as going to 
 pi(dc the fellow off ^\'ho eame (»ut to that tree, 
 but it was darker than a pile of eoke last 
 night, and, if hell ever saw sueli a rain 1)etVn'e, 
 tile lires must all 1.)e rmt — soaked through. 
 Don't helieve thei'e is a dry s})Ot in the devil's 
 domain tr)-day. AVhew ! Look at my Loots I 
 I had ti^ stop and serape the mud off every four 
 steps all night long. ]My feet were as liig as a 
 horse's head— and it's mighty good Bihlc mtid, 
 too — stieketh eloser than a hrother." 
 
 The hoys had laughed and agreed that they 
 would get the new ehallenge somehow. The 
 news that it was itp again, and on a stil)stan- 
 tial slah, ^-hieh seemed to aggravate the offense 
 in some inex[iliealile 'wav, spread and aroused 
 the young fellows anew. They would have 
 
.-l.Y UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. Ttl 
 
 that slab or die in llio attem2:it. The side bet, 
 as the}' called it, iniist be won. They were 
 making straight for it, and the Confederates 
 ^^-ere liolding- their position with grim and 
 dogged determination. A sudden onrusli of 
 fresh, eager, rested, entliusiastie men, yelling as 
 they came from the gunboats, dashed from the 
 steamboat landing and flung themselves against 
 the lines. The relief had come ! Regiment 
 after regiment dashed past. Every new one 
 was felt like a blast of cold wind in the face of 
 a belated ti'aveler. The Confederate lines Avav- 
 ered, l)roke, rallied, retreated, reformed. More 
 fresh troops came and swept })ast like lire in a 
 field of grain. Discouraged men felt the brac- 
 ing influence and stimulant on the one side. 
 On the other, it seemed that at last {he billows 
 of the ocean had broken upon them, and they 
 must yield or be forever overwhelmed. As 
 each new regiment came up, Avith its shout and 
 wild, eager dasli in the face of the enemy, the 
 ground was being gathered in like thread on a 
 great spool as it revolves. Inch by inch the 
 line yielded. The river was left behind, with 
 its horrible secret, to keep its bloody tryst with 
 
27S .1-V rXOFFK lAL PATUJOT. 
 
 tlie sea : to cany its drift of g'allaiit men, ^y]lO 
 would, alas, lie gallant no more, on the infinite 
 wanderings of its waves, as tliey ran and 
 jstiaiggled in vain to leave heliind the memory 
 and the hni'den of the pitiless struggle and car- 
 nage — the relies of man's po\A"er and eourage 
 and savagery, to do and to dii.; ly and for his 
 fellon-man, that he may adjust differences lie 
 himself has I'aised fi-om the inlinite depths of his 
 own ignorance — from the hlinchiess of his be- 
 nighted past I And still the river ran on in its 
 hopcdess elToi't, for the human tlrift ke})t pace, 
 and the awful battle ^^'as lost and won. Shiloli 
 had passed into histor}', and Grant was famous! 
 The c(juntrv took stock of its loss ami its gain. 
 One more milestone in the devious road was 
 past. One more I'eef was taken in the iri'cpress- 
 ible conflict. The Xorth rejoiced. The South 
 sorrowed, and mothers, M'ives, sisters, and sweet- 
 hearts stared at the -wall and we})t and nifianed 
 for the treasure that Mas lost, for the price that 
 was paid, and took up anew their stunned and 
 silent part, and waited and ho[)ed and prayed. 
 One of the first regiments to dash past into 
 tlie hell of shot and .shell was Beverly's. lie 
 
.l.V ry OFFICIAL PATIilOT. 279 
 
 had iioUced, as peo[)le A^■ill notice trivial tilings 
 ill tlie luiclst of great crises, a hoard nailed to a 
 tree. AVlien the hattle was over he had searched 
 for his hrot]ier"s regiment. At last he had found 
 it, but Roy was not there. Sonic one said he 
 liad fallen, others said he had heen ca[)tiired just 
 Ijcfoi'c the relief came — '' Right up there V)}' the 
 challenge — hy the tree." Beverly rode l)ack 
 toward the liill. sick and faint at licart. He 
 wondered, ^itli a thrill oi superstitious fear, if 
 that hoard was to l)e a sort of grave-mark for liis 
 brother, and if that was the reason he had no- 
 ticed the ridiculous challenge at such a time. 
 He would go back to the mark and search for 
 his brother. He got down from his horse and 
 tied him to tlie tree. The challenge was still 
 there. He had no heart to read it, but started 
 on his sickening search. Face after face that he 
 knew — boys from the old college — looked up at 
 him — some, alas, with stark, unseeing eyes, and 
 others Avho 1)egged for lielp. Boys he liad in the 
 old days cared for with youthful fervor, and 3'et 
 tliey seemed as nothing to him now ; he must not 
 lose time — he must find his brother. Again 
 and again lie turned a bloody face upAvard only 
 
liSO .LV J' y OFFICIAL I'ATIUOr. 
 
 to exclaim, '• Tliaiilc (iod!"' ^\•]]en lie did not 
 know llic features. ()li. tli'' iiiliiiili,' sellisliiies.s 
 of LoAe ' llie 1(1}' it iiialces of our liuinan sym- 
 patldes I Tlie coiitiMciioii it puts u[)on our gen- 
 erosity <»f soul I 'I'lii' limitations it sets u[)on 
 oui' liel|ifidiiess I Wdien l\\iliL;ld came ^)e^■erly 
 \\'as still seai'eliiiiL;' ^^iv liis In'otlier, and tliankiiii;' 
 (Iod, in the face of ^'ver\' manL;le<l form, that it 
 \\as the fac(.' of some ollu'i' man's brother — some 
 otiier mothei"s soli ! lie li.'tui'Ued to the camp 
 for a li^ht. He could not \\ait until morninq' 
 to l)e sure that llov ^\"as ca[iture(l. He hoped 
 and pi-a\'ed that it mi^ht he so, hut lie 
 nuist know. \o repoil had come to the ivgi- 
 nient. lJo\' had not Ijeen found or recognized, 
 pjcverly \\'ent hastily thi'ouyh the hospital tents. 
 Ivoy liad not heen hrought in. The searidi on 
 the held heyan ag-ain — the search for }[]<- hi'othiM'. 
 The lelief coips were working' heroically. ^leii 
 Avith stretchers passed and re[)assed him, and 
 still lieverly looked in vain. lie tui-ne<l his 
 dark lantern on the stretchers as they a[tproached 
 Inm, and sighed Avitii relief as each [lassed on. 
 lie came to the s[iot where the little church had 
 stood, now dismantled and wrecked hy shell. 
 
AN UNOFFJCIAL PATRIOT. 2S1 
 
 One after another lie turned tlie faces of pros- 
 trate nien upward. The night was weariug- on. 
 lie was des[)erate, discouraged, and 3'et lie had 
 begun to settle into a solid hope that Koj had 
 been captured and taken back into the Confed- 
 erate ranks before the relief had come. He was 
 making his way back to the tree and his impa- 
 tient horse, when he heard a gurgling o-roan in 
 
 ^ 0000 
 
 a niudd}" ravine through which the retreating 
 cannon had gone. ITe turned aside and searched 
 with his lantern again. Deep in the stiff mud 
 lay a young officer, llis legs were deeply im- 
 bedded. Evidentl}' the Avheel of a cannon-car- 
 riage, or some other heavy wheel, had passed 
 over him and crushed liis legs into the soft 
 earth. He had lain directly in the path of the 
 retreating ordnance. The deep tracks told 
 wdiere the wheels had been. Beverlj- turned 
 sick. He stooped to lift tlie face that lay half 
 in the mud and water. 
 
 '' Oh, Roy ! Ro}^ ! my brother !" he gasped and 
 fell upon his knees. Ilis hand trembled so that 
 the canteen fell from his grasp. He groped for 
 it as the lantern lay beside him, and one hand 
 still held the face above the earth. "Roy ! 
 
282 
 
 AX rxOFFICIAL PATUIOT. 
 
 llnv I can yi>ii liL'ur me ? Can ynu licar iiic ? It is 
 Yiuirl)roilicr I It is IJcvei'ly ! "" lie erie<l out, l)ut 
 fur ri'i'ly tlici-r ^\'as tuilv tliat L;'iiri;'liiiy ^'iTiaii, I'ol- 
 I()\\c'(l hy aimllK.T ami aiiollicr — ami llicii si Ir lire. 
 
 '•()li, my ( Iml !"' cried licvcrh'. •• What can 
 I <In? It will l<ill liim t(i try to lift tlm.se po(,r 
 cI'UsIkmI 1cl;s and "" 
 
 TIh- IIljIiI fell on tilt' Lrcast. and tlicrc. for tlie 
 lii'st (imc. licNcrly saw that it vras not mml 
 alone that lav there, l)ut that a piece of spent 
 shell was hall' ernshed into Iio\'"s side. It was 
 plain now. IJov had fallen with that, and the 
 retreating;' hatlerv had dl■i^'en over his lielpless 
 form. lieverlv Avijied the mudaiid }io\V(lin' from 
 his brother's faee and bent down and kissed the 
 parted lips. 
 
 '• (.)Ii, my l)i'(nher I my hrotherl I came too 
 late at last ! I thonu'ht all the way on the river, 
 and then, as we dashed tip that hill, I thotight 
 wc had eome in time to save yon, and I was so 
 glad I Roy, T })ra}ed m.)t to l:)e too late I Some- 
 how I th(.)tn_;'ht yon M'ere tip there. .\nd yon 
 were liere — here, with this gliastly A^•otlnd — and 
 they drove over yon I O. Roy. IJoy. my brother, 
 how can I ever tell mother? How ean I?" 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 283 
 
 The long-, gurgling- luoan came again. Bev- 
 erly sprang to Lis feet and shouted for help. 
 Shout after shout rang- out. At last a reply 
 came, and then, men with a stretcher. 
 
 " I have found my l)rother,"" was all Beverly 
 could say. His own voice seemed strange and 
 distant to him. The meu set about lifting- the 
 bod}' from its bed of clay — the body of this 
 spruce young officer who had beeu so eager that 
 his brother should feel proud to see him in his 
 new uniform with the llrst-lieuteuant's straps ! 
 No one could tell what the uniform was now, 
 and the jaunty cap and })olished sword were 
 gone ! Tlie strong 3'oung legs and the erect 
 figure could boast of its extra inch no louQ-er. 
 Beverly breathed hard as the men Avorked. 
 " Tm afraid he's too far gone to help now, cap- 
 tain. It ■' 
 
 '' Oh, let me lift his head! I can't pull on 
 those poor cruslied legs ! Be so careful ! Oh, 
 God ! oh, God ! how cruel ! Be so careful I — 
 oh, Roy ! Boy I — We are trying- to be so careful, 
 Roy ! AYe try not to luu't you so I iNIy God, 
 how cruel ! I cannot bear it, brother ! *' 
 
 The body was on the stretcher at last, and 
 
284 
 
 AX rXOFFK 7. 1 /. I'. 1 TlilOT. 
 
 Ijt^verly ^^■a.s ^vi|)illy• ^tlmI beads of aiiguisli iVoni 
 his own fart'. Owv [loor Icl;- was CTiished jiear 
 tlic hip. and hail hfcii hard to manan'c. Tiie 
 L;'roans had hrcoiuL' more (hsliiirt and l'i-c(|m.'nt. 
 Idii'ii. "Dr — (h'.'" canic from tlie lips. 
 
 '•IK-re. here, u'ivc mr a caniei/n! 1 lost mine 
 (h)wii there. (^)iiick. lie wants a driiiic. I think. 
 Here, hrolher Roy."" lieverly put a liand under 
 liis head. "•Here. iJoy, dear, can you s\vallo\\- ? 
 ( )h. it liurtshim so ! Here, brother, iini hrollier ! 
 Oh, Koy, I A\is]i il Were I! Can you hear me? 
 Can A'ou hear nie. Ivoy?" 
 
 'Jdie men willi tlie streteher turned tlieir faees 
 away and drew their sh'eves aeross their eyes. 
 ICven tiicv who liad workeil all niyht M'ith and 
 for the dead and d\'ing were moved anew hy the 
 youny ofiicer's sorrow. Beverly looked up 
 liopefully. 
 
 '• I think he swallo\A'ed just a little. Let us 
 gx't him to a surgeon, (puidv. Perhaps, per- 
 
 ]ia})s *" l>everly looked from one to the 
 
 other and eould not linish his sentence. The 
 little group ]noved wearily toward the hospital 
 tents, and Ijeverly I'an for the surgeon of his 
 own company. 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 285 
 
 "My God, doctor, lie lias been driven over, 
 and lie is wounded in the breast besides ! Do 
 3'ou think there is any liojte ? C)li, how I wish 
 it were 1 1 0\u doetor, can't you save him ? It 
 is my brother — my Ijrother Roy ! "' 
 
 The surgeon was listening as he worked. 
 
 " The best thing that could have happened to 
 him is that he was so deep in that mud. It has 
 kept the fever down. It has saved his leg. It 
 isn't badly swollen. I can set this bone. I 
 don't think the other one is " lie was ex- 
 amining and talking slowly. lie changed to 
 the wound in the breast. " This is the most — 
 this is the worst, but I don't think the lung is 
 badly — this plaster of mud on his breast " 
 
 " I took it nearly all off, doctor. It was very 
 thick when I found him, and this " Bev- 
 erly took a large jagged ]^)iece of sludl from his 
 pocket. " This was down in it. I think it must 
 have struck and stunned him, and while he was 
 helpless those cruel wheels went over him. His 
 body was as if he had fallen on his liack, but 
 the legs were twisted as if he had been on his 
 side. The mud was nearly two feet deep. It 
 was an awful place, awful ! And to think that 
 
:2S6 .l^Y rXOFVK'lAL PATIIIOT. 
 
 llicy .sliould luivo driven over lioy ! Do you 
 t],ink ?" 
 
 '' That Avas llie Ix'st place lie could have been. 
 
 Tliat nuid lias acted like "" The doctor Avas 
 
 tahiiiL;' protessi(.)iial ])ridc in the ca.se. The 
 woniided man yroaned. 
 
 '• ( )h, how it seems to hui't him. doctor I Can't 
 you — can't T — conhlnt A\"e t4i\'e liim sometliing 
 to deaden — ? He ^\■as never so strong as I. 
 lie •• 
 
 *•' You'd Ix'tler l;'(' away, captain. You're 
 1)rave enough for vourself, l)nt vou'd Ijetter go 
 away. Ill do ]iiy level Lest for him. I don't 
 think this wound is hital — and the nnid ponl- 
 tice was the very best thing- that could liave 
 ]ia})pened to him, really. Tlie wlieel that threw 
 that did him a greater service than it did injury 
 to liis leg. I — you had better go and lie down 
 for a while, captain. I'll do everything possible, 
 and — well, I ho[)e his lung is not very seriously 
 implicated. I hope ^\'^ can pull him through. 
 I feel sure of the leg and — go and lie down. 
 You can't do any good here, and you mustn't 
 lose your nerve that way. If he — if I — -if lie 
 regains consciousness I'll call you. Try to get 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 287 
 
 a little rest for to-morrow. Try. You may be 
 needed then. You must have your nerve then, 
 
 too, if he should open his eyes and *' 
 
 " Ifhii should open his eyes I " Beverly turned 
 away and sat with his face in his hands. " How 
 can I write it to mother," he moaned — '' how 
 can I ? How can I ? And father may not be 
 there to help her bear it ! Oh, Roy, Roy, my 
 brother ! " 
 
288 AN UNOFFTCTAL PATUIOT. 
 
 riiAi^ri:ij xix. 
 
 " ITow dear to nu' lieart arc the sci'n("< nf my diil Ilioinl." 
 
 WlTEX IIk' news (if the li;iltlc iv;iclie(l Kalh- 
 eriiu', she was slill alniic. (iril'lilh liad not 
 comj)letL'd tlu' task set, and was still in tlic lent 
 of the iraseihh.' Oeiierah wIiom' ehief ar(|iiaiid- 
 anee with the l->iij.disli hiiin'iia^'e a|i[>eafed to lie 
 ill his explosive and ever ready pi'ofanity. lie 
 swore if things went right, and he swore if they 
 went wrong. If he liked a man, lie swore at 
 liini playftiUy. and if he disliked him, he swore 
 at him in M'rath. Ilis ammunition might give 
 out, l)ut a volley of oaths was never wanting to 
 lire at the enemy. It sometimes seemed to 
 Griftith the irony of fate that he should l)e [)laeed 
 in the same tent and elosely associated Avith such 
 a man, for, although Griffith said nothing, it 
 grated sadly upon his ears, and he sometimes 
 wondered if the Almighty would prosj^er an 
 expedition led by this man, for Griffith had kept 
 
AN Uy OFFICIAL PATRIOT. 289 
 
 still, through all the years the primitive idea of 
 a personal God who takes cognizance of the 
 doings of men, and meets and parries them by- 
 devices and schemes of His own. 
 
 As time went on, and Lengthy Patterson re- 
 covered from his wound so as to he always in 
 evidence, he came in for a large share of the 
 General's explosive and meaningless oaths. 
 Sometimes it was half in fnii, more often it was 
 in memory of the fact that Lengthy had ignored 
 him and his questions upon their first meeting, 
 and that up to tliis day the lank mountaineer 
 took his orders and his cue from Griftith only. 
 He had attached himself to the sharpshooters 
 and rarely left Griftith's side. As silent and 
 faithful as a dog he rode day after day, with 
 watchful eyes, by the side of or just behind "■ the 
 Parson," as he still cilled the object of his 
 adoration. He watched Griffith narrowly. He 
 noticed the growing sachiess of the old-time 
 meny face. He felt that something was wrong. 
 At last the silence could be preserved ]io longer, 
 he must know what the trouble was. They 
 were near the borders of the county where 
 
 Griffith's old home was. Lengthy had exj)ectr 
 19 
 
200 AX rXOFFICTAL PATRTOT. 
 
 cm] to see liis faco gi'ow interested and l^riglit, 
 but instead tliciv seeine<l to eomc over it a 
 drawn and liaL;L;-ar<.l Inolc that was a puzzde and 
 a toi'inent ti» llie MOddsniau, lie ventured a 
 remark as they rdde apait from tlie rest. 
 
 - Sick ? ■' 
 
 "No, no, Lenq'tliy. Fni not siek. Whv ? '* 
 
 " Yell never talk no nio*. Heard yeli kinder 
 gi'oan. Few-words-eoni[ii'eliends-tir-w]i<)le."" 
 
 Oriflitli turneil liis ta(;e full upon liini. 
 
 "' J.eiiglliy, it is almost more than I can Ijear 
 to do this Avoik. I — it is — sometimes I think I 
 cd/ni'it take then) over there." He held out his 
 liand toward the heauliful valley in the dis- 
 tanee. They eonld see the thread of the river 
 winding throiigli the trees and out into field 
 and farm. It was the river in which Lengthy 
 liad seen this friend of his baptized, so many 
 years ago, when l)()th were young men, and now 
 l)oth were growing gray ! 
 
 Lengthy made no reply. The silenee stretched 
 into minutes. They halted for the noon meal 
 and to feed and rest the horses. They all lay 
 aljout on the hill, and Griffith talked to the 
 engineers. They drew lines and made figures 
 
AN rX OFFICIAL PATEIOT. 291 
 
 and notes. An liour later tliey [)Usliod on 
 toward the river. Lengtliy and Griflitli rode in 
 front. Tlie old mill wliere Pete Lad rini away 
 apjx'ared in the distance. The river was very 
 near now. A heavy sigh from Gritiith broke 
 the silence. He was looking far aliead and his 
 face was di'awn and miserable. 
 
 - What d' yeh go fer ? " 
 
 Griflith did not hear. His chin liad dropped 
 upon his breast, and his face was pale. His lips 
 moved, and tlie mountaineer waited. At last 
 he said : - What yeh do hit fer ? " 
 
 "What?" 
 
 » What yeh do hit fer, 'f yeh don't want teh ? " 
 
 "Do what? Go here?" 
 
 " Yeh ? ". 
 
 " I am a Union man, Lengthy. The President 
 sent for me and asked me to do it. He made 
 me see it was my duty. There was no one else 
 
 he could trust, who knew the country. I " 
 
 There was a long pause. The mountaineer 
 threw his leg up over the front of his saddle, 
 and ruminated on tlie new outlook. Presently 
 
 Griffith went on : " Some one must do it, but " 
 
 He lifted his face toward the blue above him ; 
 
292 Ay rXOFFK'IAL patjuot. 
 
 '*01i, my (iod, if this ru|t could but pas.s from 
 riw .' " ]r' q-roaiicd aloud. ''It secuis to me I 
 eanuot (U'oss that riwr I It secius to me I (um- 
 ■not ! " Ilis voice l)rol\(' and there ^^'as silence. 
 
 " Don't Heed tell'.*" 
 
 Griflitli did not licai'. Ilis eves were closed 
 and he was ])rayiiiL;- for li^lil and leading', as he 
 would have ca]le(l it — for strenu'lh to do the 
 dreade(| task, if il must l)e done. Leiig'tliy 
 looke(l at liiin. and tlieii at ihe not far distant 
 river, and waited in silence. iV half mile 
 farther on he said, as if tlie chain of remarks 
 had l)een nnl)ro]cen : '-Don't need teh cross. I 
 will fer veil." 
 
 '■ Wiiat ? " cried Griilith, like a. man avIio has 
 heard and is afi'aid to l)elieve. 
 
 "Said yell didn't need teh cross. I Avill fer 
 yell. Few-words-comprehends-th'-whole," he re- 
 peated, in the same level key, looking straight 
 ;it his horse's ears. 
 
 Grilhth's bridle fell upon his horse's neck. 
 Botli arms lifted themselves up, and ])oth hands 
 spread as if to grasp sometlhng. '' Oh, 1113- God, 
 is my prayer to l)e answered so soon? Do you 
 mean — oh. Lengthy, do you mean that you will 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 093 
 
 save me from this terrible trial ? Do 3'ou 
 mean " 
 
 '•' I does," lie was gazing straiglit aliead of 
 liiin now, with elaborate [)retense of indifference. 
 He had begun to grasp the situation. 
 
 (Iril'lith droj)ped botli liands upon his uplifted 
 face, and a cry as of one in great pain escaped 
 him, " 0-h^h," in a long quaver. The moun- 
 taineer turned his eyes. Griffith was looking 
 straight at him now, like a hunted man who at 
 last sees hope and rescue ahead, but dares not 
 trust it lest it prove but an illusion. He tried 
 to speak, but his voice failed him. The moun- 
 taineer understood. 
 
 " Yeh kin so home. I'll do hit. Few 
 words " 
 
 Griffith was overtaken Avith hysterics. He 
 threw both arms above his head and shouted, 
 '^ Glory to God in the highest ! Peace and 
 good will to men ! " and covered his face with 
 his hands to hide the emotion he could not con- 
 trol. They were on the banks of tlie river now, 
 and the commander dashed up. '• What in hell's 
 the matter now ? " he demanded. 
 
 " Hit's the river done it," put in the mountain- 
 
294 AX TxorFir'TAL path tot. 
 
 et'i', to save his friend the need of words. '• ]jap- 
 tize<l lliar."" 
 
 '• AVlial ? AVliat in the (h'vil are you talking 
 ahoiit ■/ Wliat ill ■"■ 
 
 lie ^vas liKtkingal ( iriflilh. hut hriigtliv l)roke 
 ill again witli liis pcrfn-tl v h'Vcl and emotion- 
 h'ss vrticr. •• Uajitizud ihar. I sez. Few-words- 
 e()iii[ireliends-lli" *' 
 
 •• Will you di'\' ii[( ? You infernal AVhat 
 
 docs this mean'/"' He tui'iied again to Griflitli, 
 Avho liad regained his self-er)ntri>l. The eoni- 
 mander usitally aeted upon hini as a refrigeraloi', 
 so ineapahle was ]\v of understanding htinian 
 eni(»tion that reaehed heyond the limits of irri- 
 tahility. 
 
 *• (xenerah"' lie hegan, slowly, "I liaye just ar- 
 ranged with Mr. Patterson for him to take niy 
 phiee as Goyernment Guide. I ean go with you 
 no farther. That house oyer there in the dis- 
 tance "" — he stretelied out his hand — " used to 
 be my old home. I loye the people who liye 
 here — all abt)ut here. This riyer " 
 
 A yolley of oaths' interrtt[)ted Griftith. The 
 command had come up, an^d the staff-officers sat 
 listening and waitino-. The General was chaim- 
 
.4.V UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 295 
 
 ing liis lirst outburst into arguments. GritHth 
 met them quite calmly. It seemed a long time 
 now since lie liad found the relief he felt. It 
 did not seem possible that it was only ten min- 
 utes ago that it had come to him. 
 
 '^ This man knows the country even better 
 than I do, General, lie is willing to go — to 
 take my place — and he is perfectly loyal — Io//al 
 to one. lie will — what Mr. Lincoln wanted was 
 that the work should be done, and done by one 
 he could trust — it was not that he wanted me 
 to do it. I Avill stake my honor on this man's 
 fidelity. He "" The word " deserter,"' min- 
 gled Avitli threats, struck Griffith's ear ; he did 
 not pause to analyze it. " Mr. Lincoln told me 
 that I was to return to him whenever I " 
 
 "- God damn Mr. Lincoln ! Zam in command 
 of these troops ! Mr. Lincoln didn't know he 
 ■was giving me a couple of lunatics to deal with ! 
 If you attempt to leave you will be shot as a de- 
 serter, I tell you ! I'll do it myself, by God ! " 
 
 Griffith's head dropped against his breast. He 
 dismounted slowly and handed his bridle to the 
 mountaineer. Lengthy hooked it over his arm 
 and waited. Mr. Davenport deliberately knelt 
 
29G AX rxOFFICIAL PATFJOT. 
 
 by the bank of the river, with his face toward 
 the ohl home. 
 
 " Slioot. I willg'oiio farther! "" he said, and 
 eh)sed his eyes. 
 
 Instantly the nionntaineer's g'un went to his 
 shoulder. His aim was at tlie (icncral's Ijreast. 
 '* Few-words-eom[)rcliends-th"-wliok'."" he said, 
 and the luunmer clicked. The ( leJieral smiled 
 grimly. 
 
 '' CtcI up," he said. " I had no right to make 
 that threat. Yon are a piivate citizen. You 
 came of ^'onr own accord. You '//v under Lin- 
 coln oidy. (ret up I Can we trust this man, 
 danni liim ? " 
 
 (Ji'il'lith staggered to liis feet. The storm had 
 left liim weak and ])ale. 'Jlie mountaineer dis- 
 mounted and stood beside him. 
 
 "You mean to lake my })la(/e in good faith — 
 to lead tliem riglit — I know. Lengthy; l)ut tell 
 liim so for iiu\" (iriflith asketl, in a tired yoice, 
 taking the swarthy liand in his. " You will 
 do your best as a guide in my place, won't 
 you?"' 
 
 Lcngthy's response was nnequiyocal. "I 
 will," he said in his monotoncms tone, and 
 
.l.V VNOFFiriAL PATRIOT. 297 
 
 sonieliow, as they stood Land in hand with the 
 curious group of men about them, the re[)ly re- 
 minded every one of the response in tlie mar- 
 I'iage serviee, and a smile ran around as the men 
 gdanced at each other. 
 
 ''You jiromise to do all in jour knowledge 
 and power to enable them to get accurate knowl- 
 edge and make their maps, don'tjou. Lengthy ? " 
 
 " I do,"' 
 
 The similitude struck even the commander, 
 and when Grifhtli turned, the irascible General 
 was trying to cover a smile. 
 
 '• Are you satisfied, General ? I Avill stake 
 my life on both his capacity to do it — even bet- 
 ter than I — and on liis honor when he promises 
 to do it for me. Are you satisfied ? " 
 
 " Have to be satisfied, I guess. i\Iount ! 
 March I " 
 
 Griffith lifted the liard, brown, rough hand in 
 both of his and gravely kissed it. " You are the 
 truest friend I ever had, Lengthy. God bless 
 and protect you ! Goodbj^e." 
 
 The mountaineer laid the great hand on the 
 palm of its fellow, and looked at it gravely as 
 he rode. 
 
298 ^1^" UXOFFICIAL PATHIOT. 
 
 ''KissL'd it. liy ,L;niii I "" Ilr g;i/.cd at tlie spot 
 
 in yik'iit awe •• l-\'\\'-\\()ixls-c(»iiij) "' His 
 
 voice l)rok(_-, and lie rode away at the lieadof the 
 coiumaiid, still hohliiiL;- llio sacred hand on the 
 jialiii of the one not so consecrated, and h)oked 
 at it from time to time yith silent, I'everential 
 a<hniralion. His L;'nn lay acir»ss liis saddle, and 
 the horse took the lord as one to the manner 
 born. (Jn the i'arlher hank he tiii'iied and looked 
 back, (iril'iilh A\aved his handkerchief, and 
 every man in the command joined in the salute 
 wheii Leiigthy's shout rang out, "Three cheers 
 for the Parson I " 
 
 Even the (ieneral's hat Avent xi]\ and Oi-ilhth 
 rode back alone oA'cr the path he had but just 
 come, alone — and unguarded — but villi a grea,t 
 hiad lil'led from his shoulders, bound for Wash- 
 ington to make his final report to the President, 
 and then ]'etnrn to the ways and haunts of peace. 
 
 *•• 1 b)me\\'ard boujnl I liomewai'd bound ! thank 
 God I *" he said, aloiub " \\dth life's woist and 
 hardest duty <h)ne. Surelv, surelv, niv part of 
 this terrilde struggle is over! It has shadowed 
 me for twent}- l(^ng years. The future shall be 
 free. Peaee has eome for me at last ! " 
 
AK UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 299 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 " The daj's of youth are the days of gladness." 
 
 "• Deaf. ]\Iother," wrote Howard, " I forgot 
 to write last week, Init then there wasn't the 
 first tiling- to tell, so it don't matter. We're 
 just loafing here in camp waiting for the next 
 move. AVe had a little scrap with the Johnnies 
 ten days ago, but it didn't come to anything on 
 either side. They are sulking in their tents and 
 we are dittoinor' in ours. But what I began this 
 letter to tell is really funny, and I don't want 
 to forget to write it. The other day a slabsided 
 old woman (you never did see such a funny 
 looking creature. She was worse than the 
 mountaineer class in Virginia, or even than those 
 Hoosiers out there on that farm near ours.) 
 Well, she came to our camp from some place 
 back in the country and asked to see our ' doctor 
 man.' She seemed to think there was but one. 
 
300 AX rXOFFTCTAL PArUIOT. 
 
 One t»f till' surgeons liad a lallv \\\i\\ lioi', and it 
 liii-iic<l (lui- ihai luT ' ok' man," as slie callrd licr 
 Imsliand, \\"as 'niit^lilv l)ad off with brcakljone 
 k'\'(M'," and slit' had conic to see if the Yankee 
 doctor man wouhhft liave some kind of stnff 
 that wonhl cui-e liim the lii'st (h>se. Tliese kinds 
 of h)lks tliink our (tfliccrs and tloctors are about 
 onnii[)ot('nt. because our men are so nuuk better 
 fed and chjthed and e(j^tii|)[)cd than the Johnnies 
 are. 
 
 '•■ • VA yob can't L;'immc sumpin' fer my ok^ man, 
 (hictah. lie's jcs boun' ter die,' she ke[)t saving' 
 oV(.'rand over. AVell, the doctor (|Uestit>ned her, 
 and came to the conclusi(.)n that a g(H)d sweat 
 M'oidil be about the proper caper to ]-ecommend, 
 and he told her to cover him \\\) -well, and then to 
 take some sage — they all haye that in thegar(kMi 
 and mighty little else — and, said he, ' take 
 about so much and put it in something' and tiieu 
 measure out exactly one quart of water and bi»il 
 it and jiour oyer the .sage. Then make him 
 drink it just as hot as he can. Xow don't forget, 
 so much sage and exactly a (juart of water." 
 
 "• ' Yell think tliet's agoin' t" cuah ((-ure) my 
 ole man, doetali ? ' saj's ishe. 
 
AX US OFFICIAL PATRIOT. 301 
 
 '• •• I think it is Hie Lest tiling' for lihn now. 
 Be stire to make it as I told you — so mueli sage 
 and a (j^uai't of water.' 
 
 •' ' You kin bet 111 fix lier np all right, doctah, 
 ef tliet's a goin' t' etiah my ole man.' Then .she 
 tramped back home. The next da}- she appeared 
 bright and early, and wanted that doctor man 
 again. ' Well, my good Avoman, I hope your 
 husband is feeling a good deal easier after his 
 sweat. I ' 
 
 "'Naw 'e hain't nuther. l\ly ole man, he 
 hain't scooped out on the inside like you Yanks 
 is, I reckon.' 
 
 "She looked pretty Avorried. 'How's that? 
 How's that ? ' asked the doctor. 
 
 " ' "Wal,' says she, ' I jest hoofed hit home es 
 quick es ever I could, an' I tuck au' medjured 
 out thet there sage an' the water — Jest edzactly 
 a quat — an* I fixed her up an tuck hit t' the ole 
 man. I riz his head up, mister — fer he's power- 
 ful Aveak — an' he done his plum best t' swaller 
 hit, but the fust time he didn't git mo'n halft 
 down till he hove the liuU of hit up agin. I 
 went back and I medjured up thet there sage 
 ao-in an' the water an' tried him agin, but he 
 
302 AN UXOFFIC'TAL PATBTOT, 
 
 Iiovc lier lip 'fore lie got lialt't down. iWil 1 
 never stoppc'(l till T tries ]iei' agin, an' that time, 
 (loctali, lie (liiln't //// luilft down. Now, doetali, 
 tliet tliere ole man er mine lie don't liohl l)ut 
 a pint. I reekon you Yanks is scooped out 
 tliinner than uhat we alls is." 
 
 "We boys just yelled, hut the poor soiil 
 loped off to her pint-iiicasurf old man Avithout 
 seeing a hit oi fun in it. She was mad as a wet 
 lu'ii mIu'II the doctor told her she needn t make 
 him drink it all at gug fell swoop. She vowed 
 he had told her that the lii'st time, and it's my 
 im[)ression that she now suspects the Yankees of 
 ti'ving to Lurst her old man. Tve laughed over 
 it all dav. so I thought IM write it to you, but 
 it don't seem half so funny in writing as it was 
 to hear it. 
 
 '' (xlve little Maigaret this ring I put in. I 
 cut it out of a piece of laurel root. I expect it 
 is too big for her, but she can have some fun 
 with it I reckon. There isn't any more news, 
 only one of our cannons ex[tloded the other 
 da}'. It didn't do much damage. I'm not sure 
 that I've spelled some of these words right, but 
 my unabridged is not handy and I'm not sorry. 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 303 
 
 I always hated to look for words. I wish you'd 
 tell some of the town boys to write to me. 
 Letters go prett}^ good in camp and some fellows 
 get a lot. I don't get many. It's hard to 
 answer them if you get many, though, so I don't 
 know which is worst. This is the longest one 
 I ever wrote in my life. I forgot to tell you to 
 tell Aunt Judy I met a fellow from "Washington 
 and he said the twins were in jail, but they were 
 let out to work on some Government intrench- 
 ments near by. I don't know what they were 
 in for. The fellow didn't know about our other 
 niggers. Said he thouglit Mark and Phillis 
 were dead because he used to see them but 
 hadn't for a long time. Sajd Sallie worked for 
 his mother sometimes and that is how he knew 
 so much about them. Two or three of the boys 
 got shot last night putting cartridges in the fire 
 to monkey with the other fellows. Xone of 'em 
 hit 3'ours truly. My hand is plum woali out, as 
 Aunt Judy would say, holding this pen — and the 
 thing has gone to Avalking on one leg. I guess 
 I broke the point off the other side jabbing at a 
 fly. Good-bye. Write soon, 
 
 *' Howard. 
 
au4 ^l-V IWOrFICIAL PATUIOT. 
 
 "P.S.— I forg'ot to s;iv I am wi'll, and .send 
 love. I wisli I liad soino lionie grid). 
 
 '■']'^»xv LratlieTs gol a l)ully l)i»\ last Avook. 
 He gave inc iiL'arly lialf of his fnut iMkc. Tlisj 
 oilier l)()vs didn't loiowlie Lad one. Tliev got 
 (loiigliiints — l)ut e\eii doiigliuiits are a lotl»ettcr 
 tlian the grid) ^ve get. 11." 
 
 Tlie l)ox of'"]ionie gi'ult,'" was speedily 
 packed and sent, and while it lasted it made 
 mei'rv the hearts of his mess. Howard said in. 
 one of his letters that he A\as gro\'\-ing Aeiy tall. 
 He said that the boys deelared that '• if it had 
 not heeii for his eollai' he ^vunhl ha^■e heen 
 split all the way np, as he liad run chiefly to 
 legs." Howard, however, ex[)ressed it as his 
 o\\'n un])iased opinion that it was jealousy of his 
 al)ilit_v to walk over the fences that they had to 
 clind) Avhicli prompted the remark. '' I''"-'^}' 
 lias to climb for it and I put one leg over and 
 then I put the other over — and thei'e you are," 
 he said. Can:p life agreed with him, and the 
 restraints of home no longer rasping his temper, 
 lie seemed to l)e the gayest of the gay. Xothing 
 troubled him. He slept and ate wherever and 
 
.4.V Uy OFFICIAL FATRIOT. 305 
 
 Avliencver and wliatevcr fell to liis lot ; lived 
 eaeli day as it eaiiie and gave no thought to its 
 successor. He counted up on his iingers when 
 he wrote home last, and tried to remember to 
 write about once a week, because his mother 
 begged that he would, and jiot at all Ijccause the 
 impulse to do so urged him or because he cared 
 especially to say anything. He liked to get let- 
 ters, but he knew he was sure of those from 
 home whether he wrote or not, and so his replies 
 liad that uncertainty of date dependent upon 
 luck. Xo sense of responsibility weighed upon 
 him, and his mother's anxiety impressed him — 
 when he thought of it at all — as a bit of 
 Avomanisli nonsense ; natural enough for a 
 woman, but all very al)surd. He had no deeper 
 mental grasp upon it, and indeed the whole 
 ethical nature of this boy seemed embrj-onic ; 
 and so it was that his camp life Avas the happiest 
 he had ever known — the happiest he would 
 ever know. 
 20 
 
r.nc. .i.v rxoFFK i.i.L patuiot. 
 
 ( llAPTKIl XXI. 
 
 . . . '■ Consiili'i', I pray, 
 ITow wo cnmmoii niotln-rs stainl di'Sdla'o, mark. 
 Whose sons, imt liciui,^ Christs, die witli cyi's tunnel away, 
 
 Ami no last wonl to say I" 
 
 Mrs. llruirnhiij. 
 
 '^ Deai; littlk Motuki;." wiote Beverly. 
 "WliciiT tek'L;T;i|ilif(l yoii last tii-'lit tliat Hoy 
 ^Yas \\-()im(lcMl and that I A\as safe and ludmrt, I 
 feai-e(l tliat to-day this letter ^v(luld take you 
 most terril)le iie\\"s — yon ^^•ho have the hardest 
 part to bear, the sih'iit, inactive part of waiting 
 and iincei'tainty an<l inaction and anxietv — Ijut 
 to-day I feel so I'clieved that I can send you a 
 very hopeftil letter. The doctor says that Roy 
 will sureh' live ; and he ho[)es that the wounds 
 will not prove so serious as we feared at first 
 and as tliey hM)ked. A piece of shell struck him 
 in the breast but it must have been a spent 
 shell, for althonc;'h the place is eonsideral)ly 
 crushed in, the doctor now feels certain tliat no 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 307 
 
 very serious damage is done his lung. That 
 was Avhat we feared at first. One of his legs is 
 broken near the liip, but it is set and the doetor 
 says it is doing well and will do so, for there is 
 almost no fever. The great mud poultice that 
 was on it for several hours at first was his 
 salvation, so the surgeon thinks. I Avill not 
 stop to explain this to you now, but when Roy 
 gets home he will tell you, for he remembers 
 most of it and we will tell him the rest. But 
 just now I want simply to tell you the reassur- 
 ing things and the plans I have made for Roy. 
 He is perfectly conscious and says that he does 
 not suffer very much. We don't allow him to 
 talk, of course, for fear of his lung, but I've ar- 
 ranged to have him sent to Nashville, where he 
 can be nursed as well as if lie were at home. I 
 recalled that the Wests live there now, and I sent 
 a telegram asking if they would not take Roy 
 to their house and care for him until we could 
 send him home. They wired that they would 
 be most happy to do so. You will recall that 
 pretty little Emma West who used to come to 
 the house. She was at school with Roy before 
 he went to college, They are nice people, and 
 
308 ^l-V rXOFFir'IAL PATinoT. 
 
 I am suix- lliai \U>y w ill l)i' carril f<pr as if lii' 
 wiTL' tlK'ii' (iv.ii. 'J ln'V are I'liidi jicoplc. 
 'J'liry Avill M'rih.' to you daily, loo, so that cvery- 
 lliiiiL;' \\\]\ 1)1' niailr as cii^y foi' you as possiljle. 
 Tills tal^cs a i;ii'at load off my licart, and as 
 l{o\' seems so l)ri;_;-lil lo-day I am almost ;^'a\' 
 after yesterday's terrible experieiiee — (tf wliieli 
 I shall tell \'ou when we all L;el home, Ijiit 
 not ]\()\\ . One of []\c most ahsiird things I ever 
 lieard of \\as that the very lirsl (jiieslioii Koy 
 tried to ask, whe:i he hei'aine eonseiotis, AA'as 
 who got the ehalleiigo la^i. It was a- side 
 challenge of l)attle l.)et\vceu his I'egiment and a 
 Louisiana regiment. It was posted on a tree — 
 written on a slab of Vvood. I had tied my 
 horse to that tree \\hen I ^^"as looking for Ko}', 
 and had nttei'ly forgotten him. Iioy"s question 
 reealled the poor horse to me and I went to 
 see ^hat had become of him. There the old 
 fellow stood, pa\\'ing the ground and twisting 
 about the ti'ee, hungry and thirsty and tired. 
 He had kiundced the ehallenge down and split it 
 with his stamping feet. I gathered it up and took 
 it to Iioy, and a real lively smile crossed his hice, 
 and immediately he fell asleep. AYhat strange 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 309 
 
 freaks of fancy and of desire and amlution we 
 are! I am told that Roy was promoted again 
 on the field just before he was shot, so he is as 
 big a captain now as I am, but that fact has not 
 yet a[)peared to come back to him. Who 
 got the challenge at the last was his first 
 thought ! I suspect he was thinking of that 
 when he fell, and his returning consciousness 
 took up the thread of thought right where he 
 had drop[)ed it or where it was Ijroken by the 
 lapse. It has not seemed to surprise him to see 
 me. He acts as if I had been about him all 
 along, and j^et it has been nearlj- two years 
 since we were together I Of course I act the 
 same way so as not to excite him. He has had 
 two long, good, natural naps to-day and I talked 
 to him between. He knows he is to go to 
 Nashville, and I liad a sneaking idea that 
 when I mentioned Emma West he looked un- 
 commonly well pleased with the scheme. Do 
 you know whether they got ' spoonj-,' after I 
 left home ? Anyhow that Nashville scheme 
 seems to suit him all the way through. I feel 
 absolutely light-hearted and ga}^ to-day, mother 
 mine. It is the reaction from the strain of 
 
310 ^1-V rxoFFICIAL PATIUOT. 
 
 yt'stL'rday and last iiiglit, I su[)|)(»se; l)ut if I 
 Cduld, I'd daiire or sing' or soinetliiiig. Since I 
 can't do lliat Til content myself willi writing j'ou 
 I'atlier a. frivolous letter. You just ought to see 
 these trees ! Idieyare simply riddled with shot 
 and shell. This s1io\a's. too. one very good I'eason 
 wliy so few of the roumls of ammunition take 
 effect in the men. The}" shoot entirely too 
 liigh. ((Juiteahove the heads of the tallest men. 
 Udie trees are simply eartridge eases, and the limUs 
 are torn away. I'he nuid I You ought t() see it. 
 You"d think you never saAV nuid before. It 
 took sixteen nudes and the entire regiment 
 liitehedto one of the cannon to pull it along tlie 
 I'oad the Johniries retreated over. A man we 
 captiu'cd was (.)ne ^\"ho had given out at the jol). 
 l*oor fellows I they had a hartl time of it all 
 around, and we fresh troo[)S who landed from 
 the gunl)oats were the last straw in their cup of 
 till )idat ion. I reckon they don't think they 
 got their tribulation through a straw though, 
 and the figure is a trifle mixed ; but as a soldier I 
 can't stop t(j edit copy I Oh, mother, I wish I 
 could make you feel as relieved as I do to-day. 
 Skittish is the word — I feel really skittish ; 
 
.LY ry OFFICIAL PATUIOT 311 
 
 because I am so sure Hoy is iu no danger. I 
 believe he will be able to go liome Ix-foi'e many 
 "weeks, and meantime, for all comforts, lie will 
 be as if he were at home. When he comes you 
 can get the whole story of his fall, the fight, and 
 his promotion. Dear old ft'UowI lie's a great 
 big captain now, and I stick right there. I'm 
 acting Inspector-General now on the staff, but 
 I'm really only a captain yet. I liope tilings 
 will settle down before I get any higher — 
 though I'd feel uncommonly well to have the 
 same kind of a promotion as he ^'ot yesterday. 
 I'm going to let liim tell you himself. It was 
 quite dramatic, as the fellows tell me. I just 
 sto2:)ped to take a })eep at him and he is sleep- 
 ing like a baby. There is almost no fever. I 
 feel like hugging this pottery clay mud — for we 
 have it to thank for a good deal — but it makes 
 us swear to march through it. I do hope father 
 is home now. He is my main anxiety. I 
 hope he won't see the papers if anything was 
 said of Roy, He was thought to be ' missing,' 
 at first when the reports went, and then to be 
 killed ; but don't worry a single bit. I am 
 telling you the verij truth wdien I tell you that 
 
VA-l 
 
 A y IWOFFK'I. I L ]\ 1 TlilOT. 
 
 last iiit^'lit i iR'lieviMl that liny eoiiM not live 
 and t(»-iii'_;-ht I IcrX alisitlutcly safe alidUt liiiu — I 
 feel lil^c sing-ill!^- — and all tliis acrouiits fur this 
 very yidiU' and ji'i'kx' Irtter. T suppose I am 
 Avliat voiiM call li\-steiacal. ( )L' coursL' In- will iiee(l 
 intclligi'Ut cai'i'. l.)nt since that is all arranged 
 for I sliall niari'li a\\"a\- to ( 'orintli (that is our 
 next aim") witli a light heart and as Lop^dul 
 as I \\'aid to make \"ou feci. Ali. mother miiu', 
 I 2'ealize moi'c and more A\hat all tliis uuist l)e to 
 you I I thought of it as I loolci'd for liov last 
 uighl. Silt/nt. patient. iiiacli\'e anxiety ! The 
 part of war thi/ -wouhml hear is hy far the harder 
 ])art. Jt takes hravery. of course, to faee 
 huUets and death : hut it must re(piire almost 
 inspired hei'oism to sit inacti^'ely hy and wait 
 for it to stiike those we h_)ve far hetter than 
 life. More an<l moi'e, small mother, do T realize 
 this, do I understand tliat the hardest part of war 
 iinist he home \^\ those wlio ai'e not vrarriors ; 
 hut \\'e love you, little motlier, ami we will be as 
 careful of the sons you care for and love as we 
 can be and do our duty. AVe will not be fool- 
 hai'dy nor reckless, fo]' your sake — he sure. 
 
 '* One of the pa.thetie Uiings that is not uu- 
 
AX rXOFFICIAL PATIUOT. 818 
 
 mingled with liunior M'as told me to-day hj the 
 3'oung fellow in tlie next hed to Roy. He is a 
 pretty boy. only al)out eighteen. He belongs to 
 an Ohio reo'iment. During the first day's fight 
 he got separated from his command and did not 
 know whether he was inside or outside of our 
 lines. He was picking his way around, peering 
 from behind trees cautiously, trying to get his 
 bearings, when all of sudden he came upon a 
 Johnnie. Both were taken bj' surprise. The 
 other fellow jumped and seemed about to shoot, 
 and the Ohio hoy yelled out, ' Don't shoot ! 
 don't shoot I I'm already Avounded I ' 
 
 " The Johnnie Avas a mere slip of a boy himself, 
 and hadn't the faintest desire to shoot. They 
 had botli seen all they wanted to of war. Botli 
 were homesick and heartsick with it all. They 
 sat down on a log and fell to comparing notes. 
 Neither one knew wliether lie Avas captured or 
 whether he had a prisoner. Both were lost. 
 Tliey agreed to call it even and go their separate 
 Avays when they got their bearings. Neither 
 wanted to be a prisoner. ' I'ye got a dear old 
 father back in Alabama, and if I ever see his 
 face again I'll have enough sense to stay at 
 
;>i4 AX l\\ OFFICIAL I'ATIHOT. 
 
 lidiHf; e'Xpluiiied Jdhiiiiii', with :i sus[»irious 
 
 <[U;i\cr ill llis Vnicc. ( )lli(> li;!(l till' AHTV (IciirL'st 
 
 aiul lii'st of I'allit-rs loo. and \iv coufr^siMl that it" 
 he coiihl l)iit se(/ his face now lieaA-eii wottlcl 
 lie his. 'rh('\' shook hands over the situaliou 
 and liolh I'rll to ( lyinj^' softly, as thcv d('cid(_''l 
 that war \\'as not what it was (/racked up to l)e. 
 The two homesick fellows sal thci'c on that hiy 
 and coni[iai'c(l notes ahout those hlesseil fatlu'i's 
 at home, and l)olh were hluhljering — hecause 
 thev //'/'/, instead of liecaiise they had not, 
 fathers \\'ho loved them and whom they loved I 
 Well, tlu.' n[)dioi wa-; that they a^'reed to })art 
 friends; and l;'o hack to their ree'iments as soon 
 as ever thev coald had out wdiiidi one was cap- 
 tured. They'll just call it even and let each 
 other off. The ( )hio hoy is laid up now with a 
 ^liiue in his arm that he caug'ht the next day, 
 and he is ^^•onderin^■ if the ^Mahama lad with 
 the father sent liim that hall as a keepsake and 
 a reminder I So you see thei'e are some Inimor- 
 ous sides to these horroi-s after all, motlier. j\[y 
 journalistic instiu(.'t has ke[it me amused with 
 this thing a good deal to-day. Fd have given a 
 o-Qod deal to have overheard the talk. I sw^ear 
 
.l.V UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 315 
 
 I woukhrt have captured Alal)ama. He should 
 have had his chance to go back to the dear ohl 
 home and tlie father. Ohio was trouljled over it, 
 but I tohl him tliat he did exactly rig-lit. But 
 wasn't it delightfully funny ? Oli. mother mine, 
 I wish I could say something to make you keep 
 up good heart. I hope father is home. If I 
 could be sure that he is, Yd feel almost gay, to- 
 day. Wool little ALirgaret's cni'h' pate for me 
 and tell her that I say her chirographical efforts 
 are very creditable for a young lady of her 
 limited experience. Get her some little paper 
 and encourage her to write to me often. It will 
 do her good, and it will be a delight to me. 
 Her last letter ^vas as quaint and demure as her 
 little self. Love to aunt Judy — the faithful old 
 soul, and to the gentle Ilosanna — in the highest 
 — peace and good will ; not to " mention me re- 
 sphects.' 
 
 " Keep up a bi-ave heart, mother. It can't 
 last much longer; and trvd}-, truly I believe that 
 Roy is quite safe. Kiss 3-ourself for your eldest 
 and loving sou, 
 
 " Beverly.'* 
 
316 Ay rXO FFICT. \L PA 77? TO T. 
 
 r'TIAPTElJ XXTT. 
 
 " 'J'liy lii-iillicr's lilduil the thirsty earth hath (Iniiik." 
 
 Shiikixjivurc. 
 
 "When (ififfith ivporteil at llieWliitc House, 
 the Pre-sidi'iil fxpivssrd liinise'lf a^^ ciitiix'ly 
 satislie'(l. "You liave done all 1 asked ;"' lie 
 said. ^ ddu' iiia})s sent, so far, are wonderfully 
 line and aceuraU', I eau see that, and now that 
 you have left a nian who is ;d»h.' and williiig" to 
 take'vouf plaee, lliat is all T ask. If he should hiil 
 us I \\\\\ send for vou a^-ain: htit I \\o\)i' I shall 
 ]iot need to do that. If he is faitld'id. you have, 
 iiuleed, done }dur Avhole duty, iiohly. I thank 
 yow ! I thaidc you ! Yon are a silent hero — a 
 Avar hero in times of peare and a peace hero in 
 times of war I I aiu glad you can go liome now. 
 I — T hap])ened to read — T always notice 3'our 
 name, now when I se*' it and "' 
 
 Gril'tith looked at him steadily. There was 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 317 
 
 evidently something- bearing on the mind of the 
 President wliich had to do with Griffith. ]Mr. 
 Lincohi Avas moving toward the table. " Have 
 you read — I suppose you have not seen the 
 papers lately ?" 
 
 " Nothino-,"' Griffith said, shaking- his head. 
 " What is the news, Mr. Lincoln ? " 
 
 " Glorious news ! A great victory at Sliiloh I 
 A [/reat victory ; but "' 
 
 He turned over several papers and took one 
 up from among the rest. 
 
 " What regiments are your sons in ? "' he 
 asked, looking- down the columns. 
 
 Griftith put out his hand. '• Wliat is the name, 
 Mr. Lincoln ? Is he killed or '' 
 
 The President retained the })uper and feigned 
 to be looking- for a name. '' Xo, no. missing- 
 according to one account. The other — tlie news 
 is too meager yet to — it is confused. We can't 
 be sure, and then this paper is several days 
 old, beside. I've seen nothing since — nothing 
 at all of him. Here — Roy. Captain Roy 
 Davenport of ." 
 
 " Roy is not a captain. That is his brother — 
 Beverly. Is Roy " 
 
318 Ay rx OFFICIAL pathiot. 
 
 ^ IIl' was |ii'(»]iiott'<l oil tile liukl, just before 
 lit' fell — or This paper '" 
 
 Gril'lith staggered toward the door. 
 
 '"I must go home. Just l)ef<»re lie fell'. 
 Poor Katheriiie ! Poor lvo\- 1 I must go home. 
 
 I must make haste. Ih^w long When did 
 
 you sav it was? When V "' 
 
 "Wait," said ]\Ir. Piiieolu. "Let me try 
 for a message — for accurate news for you. 
 Wait." lie rang. "Send that message, in- 
 stantly — to Sliiloh — to the Colonel of the 
 
 Indiana Tnhintry, and liriug me the reply. Be 
 Cj[uiek — ([uiek as you can," he said ; and the 
 secretary hastened away. 
 
 Sileiiee fell between them. GrilTitirs hand 
 reached out toward the paper ^Ir. Lincoln had 
 let fall, but the long angular arm reached it 
 lirst, and as if not noticing the movement of ^Ir. 
 Davenport, he deftly slid it toward the pile of 
 other papers, and then suddenly flung all into 
 a confused heap as he searched for some article 
 on the table. 
 
 " Would you like to go honie that way ? " 
 They were both thinking of Shiloh, so why 
 mention the name '? "■ Perhaps if you did, you 
 
^.Y UXOFFICIAL PAriilOT. 319 
 
 might find — you might take him home with 
 
 3'ou if Have you wired his motlier that 
 
 you are safe, and here on your way home ? 
 
 That was right. That will ]iel[) her to l)ear "' 
 
 He arose restlessly and placed both hands 
 upon Griffitirs shoulders. " ]Mr. Davenport, 
 I can't thank you enough for your services. 
 I want 3"ou to understand that I Iniow what 
 it all meant to you, and that I appreciate 
 it at its full value. I hope the time will 
 come when you will let a grateful country 
 
 know what 3-ou have done and — and " He 
 
 held out his hand for the message as the door 
 had opened for the secretary. He read and 
 turned the other side up, and then re-read it. 
 " Who is Beverly ? Colonel, of — Oh, your son ? 
 Oh, this is for you I I did not notice the address. 
 I wondered who loved me ! '" ]\Ir. Lincoln smiled 
 as he handed the message to his guest. '• Roy 
 is wounded, but doing well. Have sent him to 
 Nashville to the Wests. I am unhurt. I love 
 you. Beverly," Griffith read. Then he took 
 out his handkerchief and blew a great blast. 
 
 "Was there ever such a boy? To telegraph 
 that!'' He smiled up at Mr. Lincoln through 
 
320 .i.v iwoFFiriAL I'Arnior. 
 
 pi'ond dim t'ves. '" Tliat is inr oldest son — tlie 
 Captain."" Tin; (piavcr iuliis voice and the smile 
 in his eyes, drowned as it was in ninistnre, 
 tonelied the gi'eat man before him, ■wlinlook the 
 message again and re-rea.d it as (rriihlh talked. 
 "• lie is a good son. He "" 
 
 ''• He loves yon he says, and the other 
 oi]e is doing A\'(dl. I'ln onght to l)e sat- 
 isfied. .V good manv fathers are not iixed 
 jnst that way, to-day I "' ^Ir. Lincoln shook 
 ]iis head sadly from si(h_^ to side, and the 
 tragic face sank into its de[th of gloom again. 
 "■ Too inanv fathers have nosoirs to love them to- 
 dd\ — too manv, too manv."" he said gloomilv. 
 '• When will il all end? Il>fr will it all end? "' 
 He held ont the message as he snddenly turned 
 to the table. '•You will want to keep that. Do 
 you want to go hv way of Nashville, now? Or 
 straight h(^me ? *" 
 
 GriiTith re-read the message. ''Straight 
 home,"" he said. "He is in good hands — and — and 
 lie is safe. Straight home." Then suddenly, as lie 
 folded the telegram and placed it in his in- 
 side pocket, " ]Mr. Lincoln, did you know I 
 am a deserter ? " 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. .Til 
 
 - What ?" 
 
 '• Did you kno\v I deserted ? Tlie General 
 tlireatencd to shoot me, and " 
 
 '^ W-h-a-t ! *' 
 
 Griffith told the story of tlie threat simpl}-, 
 fully. The keen eyes watched him narrowly. 
 There Avas a growing- lire in them. 
 
 "• Didn't you know he couldn't shoot you ? 
 Didn't you know you were under me ? Didn't 
 you know " 
 
 '• I didn't tliink of that at first, ]\Ir. Lincoln. 
 I thought he could, and — I tliought he Avould, 
 for a little while. I was "" 
 
 " If he had," said the President, rising and 
 showing more fire than he liad exhibited before, 
 "well, if he liad, all I've got to sa}^ is that 
 there'd a' bee]i two of you shot ! " Then, 
 recalling himself he smiled grimly. " If he 
 does his share as well as you've done yours, I'll 
 be satisfied." 
 
 " Before I go, ]Mr. Lincoln, I wanted to speak 
 to you about a little matter. You said some- 
 thing just now about a grateful country, and — 
 but — I recall that you — I understood you to — 
 
 The fact is, when I was here before, I somehow 
 21 
 
3-22 AX ryOFFICIAL I'ATh'IOT. 
 
 g-()t the idea tliat you avltc A\'illiiig tn — to pay, 
 and to L';i\H' a. ('oloiirTs (•oiiiniission, and — and 
 enioluincnl.^ — to one \\lio could do this .sc'i'vic-e, 
 and ■• 
 
 ^Ir. Lincoln ilrojipcd the liand ]\c lield. and 
 au indescrilial)le cliange }iassed over the tall 
 f()]'in and the hice. which made ])oth less pleas- 
 ant t(» see. r>nt he snuled. as he passeil his 
 hand over his face, and lurnini;' toward tlie 
 tal)le ^\■ith a tired expi-ession, reached for a 
 })en. 
 
 *' You've S(^rt of coucluded that the job is 
 \\'ort]i paw ]ia\e you '/ '" 
 
 '' Yes, it's wouli all you can afford to })ay, 
 ]\Ir. Lincoln : it is extreniel}' daugertjus business. 
 Ls the oll'er still open ? '" 
 
 The I'resident gave an imperceptil)lo shrug to 
 liis loose shoulders, and drew a sheet of paper 
 toward him. 
 
 '■ C'ertaiidy. Conunission ? " he said as lie 
 began to write. 
 
 '■•\es, ifyou will. .V Colonel's commission 
 and pay dating all back to the beginning of my 
 service — if that is right." 
 
 j\lr. I^incoln nodded, but tliere was a dis- 
 
AJV UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 323 
 
 tinctly cliilly air creeping into liis tone. " Y-e-s. 
 of conr.se. 'Nytliing- else ? " 
 
 " I don't see liardly how you can Jate it back 
 either, without " 
 
 " Oh yes, I can date it back to tlie Ijegiuning 
 of your service," he said wearily, '• but I don't 
 know "' 
 
 "• I guess you'll have to just put it Col. L. 
 Patterson, for I don't know his real name, the 
 baptismal one. Known him all my life just as 
 Lengthy, but of course that won't "' 
 
 ''What I " the President had turned to face 
 him, but Griihth was still looking contempla- 
 tively out of the window, and did not notice 
 the sudden change of tone and position. 
 
 " It will give him a certain standing with 
 the men — and with the General — that he will 
 need — and deserve, and — and — and tlie rest is 
 right too, for A/?h, if " 
 
 Mr. Lincoln thrust his fingers back and forth 
 through his already disheveled hair, and at last 
 burst out : '' Can't say that I exactly get 
 your idea. I understood you to say that you 
 had changed 3'our mind about — about wanting 
 the rank of Colonel, and — and the pay for " 
 
;1J4 ^i-V uxorncfAL patiuot. 
 
 lie ^\-as looking' full at firit'lilli, and tlic preacli- 
 er's I'vcs travi'li'd liai-k fnun IIk/ distant liills 
 and t'tdl n|i()ii tliu lace Ijid'orc liim. It struck 
 liiin that tliL' t'aiM.' loolccd tire(l and ^^'()l•ll. He 
 pulled liimstdf u[t sliarplv, for tlic dull M'av lie 
 had been presenting- the ease, and his ri'plv was 
 in a fuller, freer ^■()iel■, with a hi'isker air of at- 
 tention to Liisiuess. 
 
 *• ( 'erlainlw eei'taiidw ^Ii'. I/iueoln, that's it 
 exaelly." Then with a lo\'\'ered Vdiee : '• Perhaps 
 you don't realize, Mr. Lineoln, that every 
 instant a man in that situation, \\'ho is known 
 anil rei-o!4'ni7.ed, and who hohls uo eonnnission, 
 and wears no federal uniform, has his life iu his 
 hands — is in more danger than any soldier ever 
 is, and ■" 
 
 •• Pvealize : Didn't I tell you so? Didn't I 
 ask you to go Ijetter protected ? Didn't 1 ■ ? " 
 
 (Jriilith waved his hand and went on. 
 
 '■ I somehow^ eotildn't bring myself to take 
 the attitude and position of a soldier. I am a 
 man of peace, a non-cond)atant, a clerg^'man, 
 and — and then there was some sort of sentiment 
 — of — ^Ir. Lineoln, it isn't necessary to try to 
 ex})lain jui/ position. The fact is, I doubt if I 
 
^l.V UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 325 
 
 could, if I tried, make 3'ou understand wholly ; 
 but I want this Government to protect Lengthy 
 Patterson with all tlie power and all the devices 
 it has. And I want him to have a commission 
 that will place him where he will receive re- 
 spect and consideration in our own ranks ; and 
 if lie is captured. I want money paid to him to 
 live on afterward, if he should be hurt — and 
 he can never live in his old home acfain. I 
 
 want "' He had risen and was standing 
 
 near the President again. His voice had grown 
 intense in its inflection. '^ Lengthy Patterson 
 has taken my place, and I Avant — and — if you 
 will just give him all that — I don't see how you 
 can date it l)auk either, or he Avill suspect that 
 I am i>aying liim — and he wouldn't take a cent ; 
 but if — -can't you just "' 
 
 A great gleam of light seemed to break over 
 the rugged face of the President. He arose 
 suddenly, and threw one arm around Griffitirs 
 shoulders, and grasped his hand again. 
 
 " God bless my soul I Certainly ! Of 
 course I Bj- the lord Harry, I didn't understand 
 
 you at first, I Why, certainly, the man who 
 
 took your place shall have both the commission 
 
.l.V ry OFFICIAL PATH lor. 
 
 tluit ^vill shield liiiii and tlic \)\\\ he deserves, 
 eert;iinl_v, ceitaiiilv ! "" They were moving' 
 toward the door. " .Vriylhing else, I\Ir. Daven- 
 port ? " 
 
 *■' T reckon yon Avill have to let him thiidc that 
 / took — that I was hdth einnmissioned and — and 
 ])aiil. Mr. Lincoln, or he won't take it — and — and 
 there isn't the least reason why Itc shonhl not. 
 lie nnixf. Can I leave it all — will yon see 
 that •? " 
 
 '• Oh, yes, yes, that's all right. I'll fix that — 
 
 I'm glad it's that May " lie hroke off and 
 
 took (irilfith's hand. " Well, g'oocfhve. Good- 
 hye. I hope, A\hen we meet again, it will not l)e 
 — 1 hope this war will be over, and that I shall 
 have no more need t(^ test men like yon. But 
 — ah, yon liave a son who loves yon and the 
 other one is safe I I Avish to heaven all loyal 
 men were as well off as yon are to-night. I am 
 glad for yon. and yet I sometimes think I shall 
 never feel really glad again," and the strong 
 homely face sank from its gently (piizzieal smile 
 into the depths of a mood which had eome to l)e 
 its daily cast. He stretched ont his hand for 
 another message, and stood reading it as 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 327 
 
 Griffith closed the door behind him. '' Xew 
 Orleans is ours," was all that the message said, 
 but ^Ir. Lincoln sighed with relief and with 
 pain. Victory was sweet, Ijut carnage tortured 
 his great and tender soul. The sadly tragic 
 face deepened again in its lines, and yet he said 
 softly, as he turned to his desk : '• Thank God I 
 Thank God I one more nail is driven into the 
 coffin of the Confederacy. Let us hope that 
 rebellion is nearly ready to lie down in it and 
 keep still. Then perha^is we can be glad again 
 — perhaps we can forget! " 
 
328 .l.V rXOFFTCTAL P ATT! TOT. 
 
 rUAPTElJ XXI [T. 
 
 " Tliron^li tlii^ sliailnws of tlic glnlu- wr <wci>p into the 
 yuiiiigiT (hi}."" \itii[/snn. 
 
 " "WiiKX tlio war is over and the Ixivs all get 
 home." ( ii-iflith was fond of saving, asliu sat and 
 talked with Kailierinc, ••lio\v good it ^\'ill seem 
 just to live ! Tve seen all the suffering and 
 .shadows of trageily I want to see for my \\'hole 
 life. The hovs and I A\"ill make it n[) to you, 
 Kathei'inc. and thcsi- grav hairs that have come,"' 
 lie tiiuehed the wa^"v hair with tender lingers, 
 ''these grav haii's that have cuine since we went 
 awav, shall he onlv memoranda of the past, not 
 heralds of the future." 
 
 It wassueh inlinite relief to luiA'e him at home 
 and well that Ivatherine almost forgot for a time 
 to feel trouhled al)ottt her sons. X^ews had eome 
 dailv from the ilrst ahout lioy : hut now tliat 
 he was so much im|troA'ed the haters gradually 
 grew a little less fie([Lient. Sometimes Emma 
 
A^' UXOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 829 
 
 West wrote tliem, and then tlie letters Avere very 
 minute indeed, and full of anxious hopefulness. 
 Her praise of Roy's fortitude, her descriptions 
 of liis wonderful courage land the insistence with 
 which she assured Katherine that no duty of all 
 their lives — her father's and mother's — had ever 
 been done witli half so hearty a good-will as was 
 tlie nursing of the young Captain, had in it all 
 a spirit of devotion and a guarded tenderness 
 that Katherine thought slie understood. Al- 
 though it is true that no girl is ever quite good 
 enough to marry any mother's son, Katherine 
 tried to adjust herself with reasonable fortitude 
 to the idea of what she thought slie saw in the 
 future. Of course it would he, manj^ years in. 
 the future before the linality must be faced, and 
 Katherine was learning to live in the present 
 and to push aside that which threatened or even 
 promised, as too uncertain to dwell upon. At 
 last short notes, and then longer ones, from Roy 
 himself began to come, and the time seemed not 
 far off when the invalid Avould arrive. It 
 Avas wholly unlikely, he said, that he wouM 
 be fit for service again during the war, unless the 
 war should last much longer than his original 
 
;]:jO AX JWOFFICJAL I'MIllol'. 
 
 tei'in of enlistment and lie slionlil enlist again. 
 ()t" liis linal i-ec(i\'ci-\- lie t'clt certain. The 
 ern>]i('il side \\'as duin^- well, and lie Vv'or.ld l)c 
 only sliLj'lillv lanic tlie d<;el(ir said. To L;'et liini 
 out ot llie aney liy even so liei-oic a proeess i^-avc 
 Ids niotlier eonifoit, and .^lie I'ell that she eonld 
 keep hini out )/owe\'en should h(_' ree()Ver hefore 
 his enlistment |ieri(Ml A\fre o\'ei'. she A\'orild, if 
 need he, appead to l\Ir. Lincoln, and she felt sure, 
 from alHu'il'lith had told her. that ihe President 
 would gi\'e Ivoy an hiindiahle dixdiai'L^'e. Two 
 of herlirood M'ei'e safe a^'ain. she aryaied A\dth 
 herself, ami meantime news fi'itm IIo\vai<l and 
 Beverly was frequent and assuring. JJfe seemed 
 about to droll into less trapde lines in the little 
 household. Griffith fell to hnmmiughis faA-orite 
 hymns once more, and sometimes as he sat on 
 the por(di and watched or ^'reeled the passers-l)y 
 or read his paper, he would stop to tell Katherine 
 stories of his recent adventures, where they 
 did not trench too closely Uj)iui the sorrowful 
 memories of the cold faces and l)itter feelings of 
 his one-time friends. To uo one else did he 
 speak of where he had been. His townsmen 
 knew that he had been away, of course. The 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 331 
 
 Bishop and the college trustees alone knew 
 M'hy. To all others his few months' al)sence 
 was no more signitieant than many another trip 
 he had taken since he came among them. The 
 duty he had felt forced to do had been too pain- 
 ful in its nature to make him willing to discuss 
 it even after it was over. i\lost of those about 
 him were bitter toward the South with a bitter- 
 ness born of ignorance of conditions and of the 
 times of excitement. To this man, who had 
 jDassed through the lire before the general con- 
 flagration was kindled, there was wo bitterness. 
 He understood. His sympathy was still with 
 those who were cauglit on the under side of the 
 wheel of progress as it had revolved. His be- 
 liefs and convictions had long ago traveled with 
 the advance line ; l)ut he left all sense of un- 
 kindness and revenge to those who Avere less 
 competent to see the conflict from tlie side of 
 understanding, and who judged it through the 
 abundance of their ignorance and prejudice. To 
 Griffith it was like Avatching the tide rise on the 
 sea. It was unavoidable, and those who were 
 caught out beyond the safety line Avere bound 
 to go down. He did not blame the sea. He 
 
.LY rXOFFTCIAL PATRIOT. 
 
 only deplored tlic iiir\'il;il.)le l(_»ss, the .sorrow, 
 the snl'feriug, and the mistakes Avhich made it all 
 possible. Tliat liis own part of it was in and of 
 the past lightened his heart. One day as lie sat 
 listlessly on the side- poi'ch reading his Ciazette, 
 he iiotieed vagnely tlie lialf-witted g'irl, now 
 almost grown to Avonianliood, eireling about the 
 gate and making aimless passes toward tlie end 
 of the liouse. lie M'alehed hereoverlly over his 
 papei' tor a moment and went on luunming. '■ lie 
 leadelh me, oli, lilcsse(l thought ! '" The mr)ve- 
 ments of the demented iM'eature seemed to take 
 on more delinileness. ( Jritlith ai'ose ;ind stepped 
 to the end of the }Htrch. Tiiei'e sat aunt Judy, 
 smoking her pipe, and swaying her Ixidy iji time 
 with his hununing, " ( ) Avords with heavenly 
 comfort fraught I "Where'er I go, whate'er I 
 he,'' — CTi-il'titirs step had attraeted the old 
 "woman and she (tpeiied lier eves and looked up 
 at liim. '' Still 'tis His liand that leadeth me,"' 
 Gi'illith linisheih smiling at her. 
 
 '•' Lawd amassy. honey, I des Ijeen a settiiTlieah 
 AA'id my po' ole eyesshet, alistenin* to dat dar song 
 eryoahrn I Hit sholy do seem des lack ole times 
 come hack agin t" heah yoh sing Jat a way ! Hit 
 
.4.Y UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 
 
 shol}- do I I^awsy, lioncy, cley want no shigiir 
 'roun" liuali wliilse vou \\iis gone all dat l()n^■ time. 
 Dey want dat ! Hit a\-us tL-s dat glo(.)niys()ine 
 dat liit seeui lack someljody daid all de time. 
 Hit slioly do go good t' set lieali an" listen ter 
 j-qIi singin' agin ! Hit slioly do, Mos' Giif.'' 
 She suddenly looked toward tlie street. ''Mos' 
 Grif, what dat dare fool gal doin" ? She des do 
 like dat a way all de time. I hain't nehherseed 
 her when she don't do des dat er waj-. I ax her 
 wat she want, an I ax er wat ails 'er,. an' she 
 don't say iiolhin' 'tall. She des keep on doin' 
 dat way." 
 
 " She's afflicted, aunt Judy. She's a poor 
 afflicted creature and " 
 
 '• Lawsy, honey, rt//^l)ody kin see dat she's 
 'flicted ; 1 )ut wat I axes yoh is, what fer she do dat 
 away at me ? She ain' do dat a way at yoh, an' 
 die ain' do dat a way at ^lis' Kate — -an' she ain' 
 do dat a way at ^Nlis' ]\Iarg'et, needer. Des at 
 me. She tryin' ter witch me. Dat's Avhat I " 
 
 Grifiith laughed. The point of view was so 
 unexpected and yet so wholly characteristic that 
 it struck him as humorous beyond the average 
 of aunt Judy's mental processes. His Laugli 
 
:j;]4 A\ rxoFFiriAL patiitot. 
 
 raii!^' out loud and clcai'. His Inroad shoulders 
 sliook. llf had urowii (juile portlv, and Ills face 
 was the }»icturc of hcallh and luu' A'iij-oi'. 
 
 " What ftT yoh laun'h dat a \\'ay. Mos' Orif? 
 Dat dar fool g'al \\'ould a wUcIkmI me long' time 
 aL;'o if hit haduH a lieeu fei' dal."' She took from 
 lier l)osom, whei'e it huug' from a string', the rab- 
 l)it h»()t: '' I)at"s so. Des as sho* as vo* l)a\vn, 
 liouev ; (lev aiu* no two Mays "hout dat I 
 
 The fascination of the strange hlaek hiee for 
 this eloiide<l intidleet seemed never to lose 
 its |iower. AVlienever a.nd wherever Judy Iiad 
 crossed her [latli all else faded from the half 
 vacant l)rain, and such mind and attention as 
 tliere was, ilxed itself upon the old colored 
 woman. Judy had tried every art she possessed 
 to engage the g'irl in convei'sation, bat with no 
 results. She wouhl continue to circle aljout 
 and make her passes of indii'ection ^\dt]^ one hand 
 outstretched and the other hung aindessly pen- 
 dent at her side in that hel})less fashion M-]iicli de- 
 lies simulation. Judy had even tried threaten- 
 ing- the girl witli lier cane : but no tlu'cat, no 
 coaxing' and no cajolery served to free lier from 
 this admirer who seemed transiixed as a bird is fas- 
 
.l.V rx OFFICIAL PATEIOT. 335 
 
 cinatud by a snake — with the fascination of per- 
 plexity and fear — in so far as the vacant soul 
 could know such lively and definite sensations. 
 Judy had finally — long ago — taken refuge in her 
 rabbit foot, and made up her mind that in compe- 
 tition in the black art, only, was safety. She 
 shook the foot at the girl, who responded in tlie 
 usual fashion. How loner the contest mio-ht 
 have lasted it would be difficult to say, had 
 not Griffith walked toward the gate. The 
 instant the bulk of his body hid the old 
 black woman from her eyes, nature did the 
 rest. The vacant mind, no longer stimulated 
 by the sight of the uncanny face, lost all interest 
 and continuity of thought and w^andered aim- 
 lessly on ; forgetful alike of her recent object of 
 attention and equally unguided by future in- 
 tent, her steps followed each other as a succes- 
 sion of i^hysical movements only, and had no ob- 
 ject and no destination. Aimlesslj', listlessly, 
 walking ; going no one knew where ; thinking 
 no one knew what — if, indeed, her poor vague 
 mental operations might be classified as thought 
 — living, no one kncAV why ; following the path 
 of least resistance, as how many of her betters 
 
•jyO AX rXOFFTCTAL PATnior. 
 
 liave cloiie and nill do to tlie riid of tiiue : Irxjk- 
 iiiH' no I'aillier tliaii llie seo[t(.' of }>reseiit vision ; 
 I'cniL'inlit'i-iiiL;' nolliiiii;- : Icaniinn" nolliiiiL;' ; an olj- 
 ji'cl of pity, of persi'i-ution, (»f fear or of avi'rsion 
 arcordinL;' as sIk' crossed tlie [latli of rivilizcMJ or 
 sa\aL;\', of inU'lliu'ent and [litiful or of pitiless 
 ignorance, (ii-irfilli walrlaMJ lu-r as she wove 
 lier devious wwy and M'ondered ^vllere, in tlio 
 eeoiK.Jiny <>f Nature, suelias she eould lind a use- 
 ful [ilace. and ^^■h\^ in the })rovidenee of fiod, she 
 had been east adrift to eund)er the earth, to suf- 
 fer, to endure and at last to die — where and why 
 and how? He was not lauyhinq as he returned 
 to the house, and aunt Judy scanned his face 
 narro\'\ ly, and then carefully re[)laced the rabbit 
 foot in its resting-place in her bosom. 
 
 '• Druv' er off. She kno\\- I jS//e know a 
 jn'eacher o' de gospil o' de Lawd Jesus Chris' 
 w'en she see 'uni I Dey ain't luj two ways 'bout 
 dat — 'dieted or no 'tlicted. Dat dar gal's 
 'llicted o' course, but she know "nuf ter know 
 d(ff ! She been tryin ter witch nie, (J<At she is ; l)ut 
 Lawd (lod A'niighty, she hain't got no sense, ter 
 try ter witch '7/-s house wid ^NIos' Grif an' dat 
 ral)bit foot hofe in hit ! Dat dar gal's a plum 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATHIOT. 337 
 
 Ijawn fool ter try dat kine er tricks. Slie is dat. 
 She's wus dan 'tiicted. She's a plum Imwii 
 ejiot ter try dat kine er tricks aroun* dese lieah 
 dig-gins. She is dat ! Laws}-, Lawsy, she ain' 
 got no sense worf talkin' "bout I Mos" Grif an' 
 dat rahljit foot bofe t' match up wid ! Lawsy, 
 Lawsy, dat dar pore 'fiicted gal's a plum bawn 
 fool ! " And poor old aunt Jud}-, still talking 
 to herself, hobbled into the house, satisfied with 
 her estimate of all })arties concerned and content 
 A^■ith the world as she found it, so long as that 
 v.'orld contained for her both a Mos' Grif and 
 her precious rabbit foot. 
 
 White or black, bond or free, war or peace, 
 were all one to old aunt Judy ; nothing mat- 
 tered in all this infinite puzzle called life, if but 
 there remained to her these two strongholds 
 of her faith and her dependence ! And who 
 shall say that aunt Judy was not wise in her 
 day and generation ? So wise was she that 
 sorrow, anxiety, and care had passed her lightly 
 by to the end that her eighty years sat upon lier 
 shoulders like a pleasant mantle, adjusted, com- 
 fortable to a summer breezy, 
 22 
 
33!^ .t-V ryoFFTrjAL PATnwT. 
 
 CTTAPTER XXIV. 
 
 " And what arc words ? IIo^y little these the silence of the 
 soul oppress ! 
 
 Mere froth, — tlie foam and llower of seas whose hungering 
 waters hi'ave and jiross 
 
 Against ilie planets and the sides of night, — mnte, yearn- 
 ing, mystic tides I'' 
 
 Biihi-er, 
 
 " I a:m coming- liome next montli," wrote 
 Roy, '^ Avith my wife — the very dearest, sweetest, 
 most loA'uble ami beaiilifiil girl in the whole 
 world. We have decided not to wait, but to be 
 married at once — as soon as she can get ready, 
 and I a bit stronger — and go home for our l^ridal 
 trip. The winter at home with you will linish 
 up my recovery (and if anything on earth could 
 facilitate it, Emma's nursing and care and love 
 will,) and then if the war is not over, of course I'll 
 go back if I am needed — enlist again. Mj" time 
 is out now ; but I hope and believe that the war 
 will be over, or, at least, on its last legs by that 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 389 
 
 time, and lUuii I can begin business at once. 
 M}' own idea is to take the stock-farm, if 
 father is willing, instead of leaving it to those 
 Martins Avho don't know the first thing about 
 stock-l)reeding, and go in for fine hoi'ses and a 
 few fine cows, too. I got hold of some books on 
 those subjects here. Emma's father used to 
 have a fancy that way, and I've read up 
 and talked a lot with him on the subject in 
 these four months. Don't you tliiidv we could 
 fix the house out there on the place so it would 
 do very well, indeed, for a couple of young 
 folks who won't care so very much about any- 
 thing at all but each other ? " 
 
 Griffith stopped reading the letter to laugh. 
 
 " Tut, tut, tut ! Here's more love in a cottage 
 business for you. Well, well, I am surprised, 
 Katherine ! I am " 
 
 " I am not. I've been expecting it all 
 along — only — I did hope — I didn't think it 
 would be quite so soon. Roy is only twen '' 
 
 " Well, well, 'pon my soul, it looks as if you 
 didn't get out of one kind of a frying-pan in 
 this w^orld until you got into another. I was 
 just building all ^orts of castles about the iuture 
 
C40 AX rxoFFiciAL rMino'i: 
 
 and — ami Id tril tlie mortal tnUli, KatluTiue, 
 I lR'^■L■l■ (iiicc lliouL^lil of making.' a [)lace for 
 
 a (lauL;liU'r-iii-la\\' ! Xcvlt oiiff ! \\\\\- "' 
 
 l'li(.'rLM\"as a l<ui'.^' paii>-e. (irifliih liiiisluMl the 
 letter ill sil('ii(M_' a.iid liaiidrd it lo liis wife. .Vs 
 slic read — die lieyaii ])ai-k at the lieginiiiiiy — he 
 gazed straight hefore him \\ ilh iiiiseeing ej'es 
 and a l(i\v hum ran along Aviih nnsteadyand 
 broken measure. •" How tedious — mmmm — 
 mm — the hours, ]\Iminnim — no longer mmm 
 mm : K'weet pros — mmm, swi-e — et mmm mm 
 mm, mmmm, 11a — a\e all mmmm mm mm to 
 me." lUit wedl have to expand the eastle, 
 ivatherine--huild on an adilition for a daugli- 
 terdndaw."' he said as if there had hei-n no l)reak 
 in the eoiiversatioii, albeit almost half an hour 
 had passed duiingwhieh eaeh had beeuwrap[)ed 
 in thought, and the singing — if {Tril'lilh's natural 
 state of voealizatioii may be ealled l)y that 
 name — was wdiolly miiiotieed by l)oth. 
 
 '• Yes,"" said Katherine in a tired voiee ; '' yes, 
 but I had hoped for a reunion of — of just 
 ourselves llrst : f)Ut — but — \^"e w ill try to feel that 
 she h one of ourselves — and-surely ^\"e ought to 
 be verv ij'rateful for the ^vav thev have nursed 
 
AX UyOFFICIAL PATRIOT. 341 
 
 Hoy and — His letter " Katlieiine fell to 
 
 discussing Lis letter and the new plans and 
 needs, and Low sLort a time it would Ije until 
 tLey would come. 
 
 Little Margaret Lailed witL deliglit tlic idea of 
 a new sister. TLey all remembered tlie pretty 
 face of tlie scLool-girl Emma. Letters of con- 
 gratulation and welcome were written and 
 posted, and it seemed to KatLerine tLat notliing 
 in tlie wLole world could ever eitber surprise or 
 startle lier any more. Slie felt sure tbat wliat- 
 ever sLould come to lier in tLe future would 
 find Ler read}'. SLe would take tlie outstretclied 
 Land of any new experience and say, " I was 
 expecting you." Her powers seemed to Ler to 
 Lave taken up tlieir position upon a level sur- 
 face and to Lave lost all ability to rise or fall. 
 TLe fires Lad burned too close to bave left ma- 
 terial to ever flare up again. Tbere was notbing 
 left, sLe tLougLt, to kindle a sudden or brilliant 
 blaze. Sbe Lad accepted tlie tLougLt of a new 
 daugLter witli a placidity wliicL sLocked Ler- 
 self, wLen sLe tLougLt of it, until sLe analyzed 
 Ler sensations or Ler lack of tliem. 
 
 TLe montb passed. When tbe bappy young 
 
342 AX rxoFricTAL PATinor. 
 
 creatui'es came, the very l)eaut_v uf tlieir faces 
 and forms al)out the Iiousl- gave warmth and 
 coldi'. Uiiy A\"as still limping' a little and his 
 lung nee(k'(l care, hut he M'as as handsome as a 
 young IVllow couhl he, and as proud and l)right 
 in his new happiness as if the earth ^\•ere his. 
 '• Is she not heautifnl ? "" he AA'ould ask twenty 
 times a day, holding the laughing young wife at 
 arm's length. - Js-ti't she heautiful, father?" 
 and (iriflilh wouhl pi'eleiid to Uuii eritieal eves 
 upon her and tease the son A\ith an assumption 
 that it was ueeessary to look for a Ijeauty whieh 
 was holli rare and graciously, hiilliantlv en- 
 do\^■ed. 
 
 '' Well, let me see I L-e-t — me s-e-e ! Turn 
 around, daughtei' — Xo, Jiot so far — M-mm. 
 Well — it — seems — to — me — she is r-a-tdi-e-r 
 fair !"' and Griffith's cvqs Avould twinkle with 
 }ileasure ^hen Emma tweaked his ears or dro\\-ned 
 his pretense in a dash of music. The old piano 
 gave })lace to a new one, and the home was once 
 more tilled with langliter and music and a liap- 
 piness that not even the shadow cast l)y the 
 thought of the two absent ones could make 
 dark enough to veil the spirits of the two who 
 
AN rXOFFlCIAL PATniOT. 343 
 
 had come. Willi the others it had also its in- 
 fection. So true is it that after long and ter- 
 rible strains \ve hail partial relief with such peans 
 of joj that the shadows that remain seem only 
 to temper the light that has hurst upon our 
 long darkened vision and to render us only the 
 better aljle to Ijear the relief. Griffith sang the 
 old hynnis daily now, and even essayed to add 
 his uncertain voice to the gay music that Emma 
 and Rov flunof forth. 
 
 " And tlip niuhts sliall be filled with music, 
 And the thoughts that infest the day, 
 Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs, 
 And as silently steal away." 
 
 Emma's voice rang out clear and sweet, and 
 it seemed to Katherine that, after all, it was 
 very delightful to have a new daughter like 
 this one, and if Roy must marry, why 
 
 Good news continued to come from the 
 front. Howard and Beverly were well and un- 
 hurt. In their different ways they wrote cheer- 
 ful and cheering letters. Emma grew more 
 radiant ever}- day as she watched the returning 
 color come to Roj-'s cheeks, and one day Griiiith 
 
:U4 .1-V rXOFFICTAL PATJilOT. 
 
 loolc liLT by Ixuli ai'ins as slie was llasliiiin' past 
 liiiii. lie ]i('l(l \\vv al anil's L'1il;i1i ami laiiglied. 
 
 '• TitIiil;' 1<_) sre if I'm pi-ctty. fallicr?" she 
 said saiU'ily. lifliii;_;' luT iiuiiitli fur a kiss. 
 
 *• Pjvtl y I pivlty! W'\\\. (lau-lilrr of IJahy- 
 loii, till' lilies of llic lifld arc ]iol half so 
 
 Lively — and Solomon, in all his l;1oi'\' "" IIl* 
 
 stc[i})e<l hack and ioldiMJ his aims. Jhmna 
 llnng hoih little hands up lo his checks in i^dce. 
 *■'■ Kiss nic ! oh. \i>ii dear old father! Solomon 
 in all his ;^1oit nc\"cr knew you — didn't have 
 you foi- a father — and so that is wliere I have 
 got the hcst of Solomon I Poor old Solomon, I 
 A\'ouldii"t traile with him ! "" She ran lanyhing- 
 down the hall, and Kalhcrine smiled up at her 
 hushand. 
 
 '•What a dear girl she is I I am so glad for 
 liov — for all of us : "" she sai(h ''It is easy and 
 a pleasure to huild on an addition to our air- 
 castles for her." 
 
 (iritlith hent over to kiss her. "Yes, God 
 has been verv good to us all the <kiys of our 
 lives, Katheiine. The struggles have all heeii 
 outside of the uiost sacred — of — • — "" lie hesi- 
 tated as he recalled some of the struggles, and 
 
' AN UNOFFICIAL PATEIOT. 345 
 
 touched his lips to lier hair wIiltc tlie gray 
 was growing distinct. ''But all those seem to 
 be about over, now, and for us the dawn is here 
 and the l)rilliant day is (_)idv jnst ahead. Ah, 
 little wife, the sini will rise for us tomorrow on 
 a day \\ hich shall have no conflict of soul be- 
 fore us. How haj)|)y we shall l)e when the 
 other boys get home I It makes me feel 'S'oung 
 again only to ihiidc of it ! I am going over to 
 the College now. A business meeting of the 
 trustees.'' lie smiled back at her and went 
 hunnning down the lawn : '' Joy to the \\'urld, 
 the Lord is come ! *" 
 
 Two hours later in the twilight, there was a 
 confused scuffle of feet and liabble of muffled 
 voices on the front porch. Katherine, ever on 
 the alert for news from her absent sons, opened 
 the door. A dark, repellent face — the face of an 
 ascetic, cast in the mold of sorrow aiul soured 
 by the action of time, was before her. She rec- 
 ognized the pastor of the church near b}'. 
 "Sister Davenport," he said, "■you had better 
 
 step back. We have sad news. We lie 
 
 is dead." 
 
 " Which one ? Which one ? '" cried Kathe- 
 
340 
 
 AN IWOFFK'IAL PATIHor. 
 
 I'iiic, ''Howard or I'x.'vi'i-ly ? "" She was stniL,'- 
 oThil;' to ])U>][ liv iliciii on.t on to ilie' jmrcli. 
 J{o\- laislied from llic hallway and past tlie 
 group. 
 
 '• (ircat (i(Hl : Tt is fallicr ! It is fatliei' ! " 
 lie ci'icd. and tunicd to sliicld liis iiiotlicr from 
 tlic si'_;lit. •■ ( *omc liaclc I ( 'omc liack .' "" lie said 
 g'l'aspinL;' licr Iwtlic >\aist and trying to force lier 
 into a cliair. He had, as A\'e all have at sndi 
 times, a vague idt/aof somehow sa\'ing her l)y 
 gaining time. Tlic lit lie gronj) was staggering 
 into tlu' I'oom and ils load A\'as hiid upon tlio 
 eouch. (iril'lith I)a\'enport was dea(h 'Die smile 
 on the face \\'as there still. l>nt the poor 1)ravo 
 heart wotild heat no mori.' fore\'cr. 
 
 "Heart failure,"" some one said, '•'in the 
 trustees" room."" 
 
 " In the midst of life we are iit death — "' l)egan 
 the stern-faced ascetic as he took his pdace near 
 Katherine. Ivoy had pushed her into a cfiair and 
 stootl holding lier ahoitt the shoitlders. Emma 
 knelt hefore her with streaming eyes, hjoking 
 into the set face. Little Margaret Avas weeping 
 with fear. She had never before seen the face 
 of death. She did not understand. She only 
 
AN UNOFFICIAL PATUIOT. 347 
 
 knew that some terrible blow had fallen, and 
 she clung to aunt Judy and wept. 
 
 " In the midst of life we are in death. The 
 Lord giveth, and •"' 
 
 " Oh, go away, go away I " moaned Katherine, 
 as the monotonous voice and the tall form of the 
 clergyman forced itself into her consciousness^ 
 again. " Go away and leave me with my dead I '' 
 She was dry-eyed and staring. She sat like one 
 in a dream. She had not reckoned upon this 
 when she had felt that she was ready for any- 
 thing that should come — anything that could 
 come to her in the future. She was too dazed 
 to grasp or adjust anything now. She only knew 
 that she must be alone. " Go away ! go away,'^ 
 she said looking up at Roy. He motioned the 
 men and the minister out and closed and locked 
 the door. When he returned to his mother's side 
 her eyes were shut and her head was thrown back 
 against the chair. There were no tears. He 
 beckoned Judy to bring little Margaret, and he 
 took his mother's arms and put them about 
 the child, and his own were around both. His 
 own eyes were streaming but hers were dr}- still. 
 
 "Mother," he said softly, "mother," She 
 
:j4s AX ryoFFiciAL patbiot. 
 
 dill not answer. Presently she opened her eyes 
 and tliey fell u[)on the eiiild in her arms. 
 
 " Ptior fatherless child I Poor fatherless 
 child I " she moaned, and the tears gushed forth, 
 hilt her arms dr()[>|)ed slowly from ^Margaret's 
 form, and she did not seem to want the child 
 there. The streaming eyes traveled toward 
 the conch and its silent occupant whose trials 
 and struggles were indeed over at last. Oli, 
 the iron}- of fate I Xo contlict of soul was 
 hefore him, the dawn he had heralded — the 
 hrilliant day was come, Avas it not ? Who was 
 there to say ? He was out of bondage at last 
 — bondage to a conscience and a condition that 
 tortured liis brave, sensitive soul. The end 
 of the sacrifice had come, but for what ? To 
 Katherine, as she gazed at him lying there in 
 the gloom, it was dead sea-fruit indeed. She 
 could not think. She only sat and stared, and 
 was conscious of the dull dead pain — the Avorth- 
 lessness of all things. 
 
 Roy bent down and stroked her hair and 
 kissed lier. She did not seem to know. '' Shall 
 we go awav, too? .U/ of us, mother? Would 
 you rather be alone— with father? " 
 
AS IWOFFICIAL PATUIOT. ;J4'» 
 
 " Yes,"' she said feeblj". '■' I will be alone 
 always, alone now, always alone — alone I *' 
 
 '' Xo, no, mother, yon will have all of us — 
 all — all— but him. AVe will "" 
 
 "■ Go away ! go away, for a while," she said, 
 and flung herself on her knees beside the couch. 
 "Oh, Griffith, Griffith! What was it all for? 
 All our suffering and trials and hopes and life ? 
 What was it all for at last ? "' she moaned with 
 her arms about his lifeless form. "• What did it 
 all mean? What was it all for, if this is the 
 end? Oh, Griffith, Griffith ! what was the use ? 
 What was the use — with this for the end ! I 
 felt so safe about you, darling, now that jou 
 were here ! I did not even think of you ! I did 
 not fear it was you ! Oh, Griffith, Griffith I 
 this is the end of all things ! This is the end I 
 This is the end I I do not care what else comes 
 — I do not care — I do not care ! What is a 
 countr}-? What are sons to me now? I do not 
 care ! I do not care ! This is the end ! " 
 
 Roy had heard her voice and her sobs. He 
 opened the door softly and saw her with her 
 head on the breast of her dead and the long 
 sobbing sighs coming with the silences between. 
 
;jr)(l AX C.XOFFKIAL PATRIOT. 
 
 He closed the door noiselessly again, and took 
 Jiis young wife in his anns. His voice was 
 choked and In'oken. 
 
 " Ennna, my darling, perhaps if you Avere 
 to go to her — perha[)S she would know that nou. 
 can understand — perhaps you could comfort her, 
 if '' 
 
 "■No, no. Roy, she would hate me if I were 
 to go in there now — I who have yon I I who 
 am so happy and so blest ! I kno\\' I I know, 
 darling. Let her alone — for awhile. ( )h, Roy. 
 If it were you I If — if — it were I in there, 
 with — with lion, dead I Oli, Roy I '' 
 
 They clung to each other in silence. Both 
 understood. .Vt last he said, holding his wife to 
 his heaving hreast : " .Vnd we cannot help her I 
 Not even God can help her now — if there be a 
 God — not even He can help her now ! He 
 would be too late to undo His own cruelty ! Ah, 
 love and death I Love and death ! how could 
 a good God make both I " 
 
 The young wife shuddered and was silent. 
 Her faith could not compass that situation. 
 Love was too new and too strong. Doubt 
 entered the door Love had swung open for 
 
.i.v rxoFFiriAL PATUior. ;j51 
 
 these two, and took up liis seat at their lireside 
 forever. 
 
 An hour hiter, as they talked in whispers, Roy 
 said : '•' To think that we all escaped in battle 
 — and he from worse danger — and now I "" 
 
 '" Mos' Roy, honey, I wisht yoh'd take dis heah 
 rabl)it foot in dar t' Mis' Kate I Lawsy, Mos' Roy. 
 she o'wine tergo outen her mine if she don' look 
 out. Aunt Judj' don' need dis heah foot lack 
 what ^lis" Kate do now, honey. You des go in 
 dar an' des kinder put hit inter ^lis' Kate's 
 pocket er somewlieres. Hit ain't gwine ter do 
 lier no harhm — an' mehb}' hit niout do 'er some 
 kine er good, kase I gwine iev gib hit to her ter 
 keep fer all de time now." 
 
 Roy took the proffered gift quite gravely. 
 '' Thank you, aunt Judy, you were always good 
 to us — always. I will take it in there after a 
 while ; " he said, and the heroic old soul hobbled 
 away, happy in her supreme sacrifice. 
 
 It was night To Katherine it seemed 
 
 that the darkness must be eternal. Yet the 
 .sun rose on the morrow, and Life took up its 
 threads and wove on another loom. 
 
 THE END. 
 
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RARE BOOK 
 COLLECTION 
 
 THE LIBRARY OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 AT 
 
 CHAPEL HILL 
 
 Wilmer 
 481