Part 23 (1/2)

”I am sure he had not the least idea who you were, and no wonder! I do not believe I should recognize you myself if we should meet on the street”; remarked the lady as her visitor seated herself. ”How strangely you look in that gray traveling suit!”

”Not more so to you than to myself”; was the low reply.

”Your hair put back so plainly, and those gla.s.ses, have really added half a score to your years. No one will doubt your origin, or that you are an English lady of the old school.” The speaker laughed merrily, but the visitor remained calm and silent, having been led by her companion far away into the future where new scenes and new duties awaited her. It was a perilous task she had undertaken, and no one understood it better than herself. But the last few years had been fitting her for the risks she were to encounter.

”It was true that no one within the circle of my acquaintances was so well fitted to act this part in the great drama of war,” was her conclusion, and no one had such a reason for hating the foe as had she, and while she was performing this great service for her country she could at the same time pay off the debt of her blighted hopes. During the short visit quite another scene was being enacted below stairs.

Harry and Nelly were standing together in one corner of the large kitchen engaged in close conversation, notwithstanding the protestations of Aunt Nancy, who reiterated a dozen times a day at least the declaration ”Dat boy Harry don't arn de salt in his porridge.” For once her words rattled away in the air and fell unheeded on the ears they were aimed at.

”I tell you, Nell,” said the slave, ”dar's somethin' goin' t' happen jes suits dis chap. We'll have a fine house all our own, and some little Sambo to take care ob de chilerns, and, and--”

”Go away, you Harry,” and the girl slapped his round cheek, with a yellow hand that delighted to push back the curtains hanging about her future as well as did her lover.

”Well, I hearn 'em talk, and old Ben sang 'de Good Time's Comin', louder last Sabba-day dan he eber did afore. It's comin' Nell. I jes thought--I'll tell Ben, and set him praying for it. He'll make it all right, sartin, sure; and when we get de big house we'll take old Ben to mind de chilerns. He'll like dat for pay, sartin.” Nelly laughed, and declared again that Aunt Nancy wanted her, then darted away, followed by the laugh of her lover.

Three weeks after Mrs. Belmont arrived safely in Was.h.i.+ngton. In due time she took up her lodging with the family whom she had known several years previously, and who well understood her mission in the city.

As the ”wealthy English lady who had fled from the South on account of her anti-war principles,” she was admitted to the most private circles, where she promulgated her ”abolition” doctrines to the evident satisfaction of her numerous admirers. It did seem a very strange thing that the antic.i.p.ated movements of the Union army should be known to the enemy long before they were brought to maturity. But had the puzzled authorities seen the tall gentleman who came leisurely up the long avenue three times a week until he reached the farther end, where he would look carelessly about him, and stopping under a certain tree take from beneath a stone a folded paper, then walk as slowly on, they would have easily imagined that in this was the mystery concealed. Yet it would have required a great amount of credulity to believe that Mrs.

Southey, who had so won the hearts of the people, could have possibly known of, much less have written, those mysterious epistles. Only once did her large eyes lose their determined look, or the crimson wave of self reproach roll over her stern face, but the calm face of our n.o.ble President, as he held her hand in his, scrutinizing her face, brought them both to view. Did those penetrating eyes pierce the mask she was wearing? Did that manly soul discover the spirit of rebellion looking out through those orbs that so shrank back at his gaze? It was only for a moment. He bowed while the old smile returned to his plain face as he extended his hand to the next visitor.

Abraham Lincoln sleeps to-day in a martyr's grave, but the touch of his warm hand, without one stain of human blood upon it, and that look from those reproachful eyes, so full of love and good will to all, sank with a heavy weight down into the traitor's heart that night and were living, real things to the wretched woman, who lived to mourn over the sin of treachery, not only to her country but her home-loves. Alas! that any should think to subdue the tempest of remorse which comes to beat upon it, by prevarication or crime. The eye of justice cannot be deceived.

Did these thoughts sometimes come to the miserable woman, who tossed upon her bed as the memories from the past came back to torment her?

Where was her child? Her Lillian? It had been many months since she had heard from her directly, and there were times when the terrible presentiment of coming disgrace would haunt her dreams and fill her waking moments with dread. The war--the terrible war! Her son was probably in it, surrounded with the dangers of a common soldier. George St. Clair was in it. The mighty wave of devastation was rolling southward, and Rosedale was cut off from her approach, perhaps forever.

Where was the end to be? What wonder that she trembled at every report of aggression or conflict that sped towards her! But worse than all this was the terrible consciousness that sin had stained her soul with blood.

Never for a moment did the awakened conscience cease its upbraidings. In vain did she answer back: ”Say not this of me. Murder is _not_ one of my transgressions. I did _not_ mean all that!”

But the voice would not be silenced.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

CHAPTER XXIII.

A DAY IN THE HOSPITAL.

On almost every breeze came the sounds of conflicts or victories, or defeats, or mournings and heart-breakings, which chimed harshly with the shouts of exultations and cheers of the conquering hosts. On every breeze went up also to the great Father and G.o.d of battles the wail of anguish, the cry for mercy from breaking hearts, as well as the earnest plea for protection for loved ones in the perils of war; and the gentle spirit whispered to the despairing soul, ”What I do ye know not now, but ye shall know.” Blessed comforter! What could be done with all the mysteries of life that continually creep about us to chill and paralyze our being were it not for its peaceful influences? But let us return to glance at the terrible battle of Bull Run, which sent dismay into thousands of homes where the dearest ties of love were severed and the strongest links of earth broken forever. Let history paint the dark cloud that hung over the blood-stained field, casting their sombre shadows on the lonely graves of the early sacrificed.

There was much wondering in high circles how the plan of attack was so well known to the opposite forces, which would have ceased could they have looked in upon the ”wealthy English lady” for a moment, who with her hostess, was waiting for their private messenger who was expected every moment with the latest news from the seat of conflict, which was to a.s.sure them that the Union army was defeated. The dignity of the mistress of Rosedale was for the time laid aside while she reveled in the very abandonment of her exuberant joy.

”This pays me after all for the risks I have run,” she exclaimed with a toss of her regal head. ”Wondering eyes will flash to-day, and aching hearts exult. I have been waiting for this. The hour of vengeance never loses itself though the whole world should turn over in wholesale confusion.”

”Do not, Mrs. Southey!” pleaded her companion, ”for it seems even to me that there is a sure prophecy in your words. Vengeance! Will it hunt us out at last?”

”Hus.h.!.+ I was not speaking of such minor facts as ourselves. The prophecy, as you term it, only incidentally bubbled up with the shouts of victory; that was all.” But the stern face paled perceptibly as she uttered these careless words.

”It may be well to shout, still I advise you not to be too highly elated, for remember the reports are not all in yet, and I am in possession of a few drawbacks as to the final results. By the way, did you notice the remark of that senator last night about traitors and spies? I looked up to see if you experienced any peculiar sensations about the throat.”

”Did I show any signs of suffocation?”