Chapter Seventeenth.
"Abate the edge of traitors, gracious lord,
That would reduce these bloody days again,
And make poor England weep in streams of blood."
—SHAKESPEARE
The sun had just risen above the tree-tops as Solon led Beppo, ready saddled and bridled for his master's use, from the stables to the front of the mansion.
A moment later Mr. Travilla came out, gave some orders to the servant, and was about to mount, when his attention was attracted by the approach of a man on horseback who came cantering briskly up the avenue.
"Good morning," he said, as the stranger drew near. "Solon, you may hitch Beppo and go to your work."
"Good morning, Mr. Travilla, sir," returned the horseman, lifting his hat and bowing respectfully, as Solon obeyed the order in regard to Beppo, and with a backward glance of curiosity, disappeared around the corner of the building.
"You bring news, Martin?" said Mr. Travilla, stepping nearer to the stranger and looking earnestly into his face.
"Yes, sir and very bad, I'm sorry to say, unless," and he bent low over his saddle-bow and spoke in an undertone, "unless you can defend yourself against a band of thirty-five or forty ruffians."
"Fasten your horse to that post yonder and come with me to my private room," said Travilla, in calm, quiet tones.
Martin, alias Snell, immediately complied with the request, and as soon as he found himself closeted with Mr. Travilla, proceeded to give a full account of his last night's adventure.
"I assure you, sir," he concluded, "I look upon it as a piece of rare good fortune that I came upon that lad yesterday, and that he mistook me for one of the Klan; as otherwise you'd have had no warning."
"It was a kind providence, Martin," returned Mr. Travilla, with grave earnestness, "'If God be for us who can be against us?'"
"Nobody, sir; and that's the most Christian way of looking at the thing, no doubt. But, if I may ask, what will you do? fight or fly?"
"How do you know that I shall do either?" Mr. Travilla asked with a slight twinkle in his eye.
"Because you're not the man to tamely submit to such an outrage."
"No, as my wife says, 'I believe in the duty and privilege of self-defense;' and for her sake and my children's, even more than my own, I shall attempt it. I am extremely obliged to you, Martin."
"Not at all, sir; it was all in the way of business, and in the interests of humanity, law and order. No, no, sir, thank you; I'm not to be paid for doing my duty!" he added, hastily putting back a check which his host had filled out and now handed him.
"I think you may take it without scruple," said Mr. Travilla; "it is not a bribe, but simply a slight expression of my appreciation of an invaluable service you have already rendered me."
"Still I'd rather not, sir, thank you," returned the detective rising to go. "Good morning. I shall hope to hear to-morrow that the raiders have got the worst of it."
Left alone, Mr. Travilla sat for a moment in deep thought; then hearing Mr. Lilburn's voice in the hall, stepped out and exchanged with him the usual morning salutations.
"So you are not off yet?" remarked the guest.
"No, but am about to ride over to the Oaks. Will you give me the pleasure of your company?"
"With all my heart."
Elsie was descending the stairs.
"Wife," Mr. Travilla said, turning to her, "your cousin and I are going to ride over to the Oaks immediately; will you go with us?"
"Yes, thank you," she answered brightly, as she stepped to the floor; then catching sight of her husband's face, and seeing something unusual there, "What is it, Edward?" she asked, gliding swiftly to his side and laying her hand upon his arm, while the soft eyes met his with a loving, anxious look.
He could scarce refrain from touching the sweet lips with his own.
"My little friend, my brave, true wife," he said, with a tender sadness in his tone, "I will conceal nothing from you; I have just learned through a detective, that the Ku Klux will make a raid upon Ion to-night, between twelve and two; and my errand to the Oaks is to consult with your father about the best means of defense—unless your voice is for instant flight for ourselves, our children, and guests."
Her cheek paled, but her eye did not quail, and her tones were calm and firm as she answered, "It is a question for you and papa to decide; I am ready for whatever you think best."
"Bravo!" cried her cousin, who had listened in surprise to Mr.
Travilla's communication, "there's no coward blood in my kinswoman's
veins. She is worthy of her descent from the old Whigs of Scotland; eh,
Travilla?"
"Worthy of anything and everything good and great," returned her husband, with a proud, fond glance at the sweet face and graceful form by his side.
"Ah ha! um h'm! so I think. And they are really about to attack you,—those cowardly ruffians? Well, sir, my voice is for war; I'd like to help you give them their deserts."
"It would seem cowardly to run away and leave our wounded friend and helpless dependents at their mercy," Elsie exclaimed, her eye kindling and her cheek flushing, while she drew up her slender figure to its full height; "our beautiful land, too, given up to anarchy and ruin; this dear sunny South that I love so well."
Her voice trembled with the last words, and tears gathered in her eyes.
"Yes, that is it," said her husband; "we must stay and battle for her liberties, and the rights guaranteed by her laws to all her citizens."
Horses were ordered, Elsie returned to her apartments to don a riding habit, and in a few minutes the three were on their way to the Oaks.
The vote there also was unanimous in favor of the policy of resistance.
Mr. Dinsmore and Horace, Jr. at once offered their services, and Arthur
Conly, who happened to be spending a few days at his uncle's just at
that time, did the same.
"I was brought up a secessionist and my sympathies are still with the Democratic party," he said, "but these Ku Klux outrages I cannot tolerate; especially," he added, looking at Elsie with an affectionate smile, "when they are directed against the home and husband if not the person of my sweet cousin."
"You are to me 'a kinsman born, a clansman true,' Art," she said, thanking him with one of her sweetest smiles.
"That's right, old fellow!" cried Horace, clapping his cousin on the shoulder. "We shall muster pretty strong;—papa, Brother Edward, Mr. Lilburn, you and I—six able-bodied men within the fortress, with plenty of the best small arms and ammunition; all of us fair shots, too, some excellent marksmen—we ought to do considerable execution among our assailants."
"And God being on our side," said Mr. Lilburn, reverently, "we may have strong hope of being able to beat them back."
"Yes, 'the race is not always to the swift, nor the battle to the strong,'" remarked Mr. Dinsmore. "'Some trust in chariots, and some in horses: but we will remember the name of the Lord our God.'"
"And if we do so truly, fully, he will take hold of shield and buckler and stand up for our help," added Mr. Travilla.
The plan of defense was next discussed, but not fully decided upon; it was agreed that that could be done most readily upon the spot, and that accordingly Mr. Dinsmore and the two young men should ride over to Ion shortly after breakfast, to view the ground and consult again with the other two.
"Why not return with us and breakfast at Ion?" asked Elsie.
"Why not stay and breakfast with us?" said Rose.
"Certainly," said her husband. "Take off your hat, daughter, and sit down to your father's table as of old."
"Ah, my little ones! I know they are watching now for mamma and wondering at her long delay."
"Then I shall not detain, but rather speed you on your way," he said, leading her out and assisting her to mount her horse.
The children had thought mamma's ride a long one that morning, and much they wondered at papa's unusual silence and abstraction. He quite forgot to romp with them, but indeed there was scarcely time, as he did not come in from the fields till the breakfast bell had begun to ring.
Grace had just been said, every one was sitting silent, quietly waiting to be helped (the children were all at the table, for "Cousin Ronald" who had been with them for a week, was now considered quite one of the family). Mr. Travilla took up the carving knife and fork with the intent to use them upon a chicken that lay in a dish before him; but the instant he touched it with the fork, a loud squawk made every body start, and Harold nearly tumbled from his chair.
"Why dey fordot to kill it!" he cried breathlessly.
"But its head's off!" said Eddie, gazing into the dish in wide-eyed astonishment.
"Ah ha nn h'm! is that the way your American fowls behave at table?" asked Cousin Ronald, gravely, but with a slight twinkle in his eye, pushing back his chair a little while keeping his eyes steadily fixed upon the ill-mannered bird, as if fearful that its next escapade might be to fly in his face; "a singular breed they must be."
Elsie and her husband began to recover from their momentary surprise and bewilderment, and exchanged laughing glances, while the latter, turning to his guest, said, "Capitally done, cousin! wouldn't have disgraced Signor Blitz himself or any of his guild. But I had no suspicion that ventriloquism was one of your many accomplishments. What part shall I help you to?"
"The leg, if you please; who knows but I may have use for more than two to-night?"
A gleam of intelligence lighted up little Elsie's face. "Oh! I understand it now," she said, with a low silvery laugh; "cousin is a ventriloquist."
"What's that?" asked Vi.
"Oh I know!" cried Eddie. "Cousin Ronald, don't you have a great deal of fun doing it?"
"Well, my boy, perhaps rather more than I ought, seeing it's very apt to be at other folks' expense."
The guest, mamma and Elsie having been helped, it was now Vi's turn to claim papa's attention.
"What shall I send you, daughter?" he asked.
"Oh nothing, papa, please! no, no, I can't eat live things," she said half shuddering.
"It is not alive my child."
Violet looked utterly bewildered: she had never known her father to say anything that was not perfectly true, yet how could she disbelieve the evidence of her own senses?
"Papa, could it hollow so loud when it was dead?" she asked deprecatingly.
"It did not, my little darling; 'twas I," said Cousin Ronald, preventing papa's reply, "the chick seemed to make the noise but it was really I."
Papa and mamma both confirmed this statement and the puzzled child consented to partake of the mysterious fowl.
Minna, standing with her basket of keys at the back of her mistress's chair, Tom and Prilla, waiting on the table, had been as much startled and mystified by the chicken's sudden outcry as Vi herself, and seized with superstitious fears, turned almost pale with terror.
Mr. Lilburn's assertion and the concurrent assurance of their master and mistress, relieved their fright; but they were still full of astonishment, and gazed at the guest with wonder and awe.
Of course the story was told in the kitchen and created much curiosity and excitement there.
This excitement was, however, soon lost in a greater when the news of the expected attack from the Ku Klux circulated among them an hour or two later.
It could not be kept from the children, but they were calmed and soothed by mamma's assurance, "God will take care of us, my darlings, and help papa, grandpa and the rest to drive the bad men away."
"Mamma," said Vi, "we little ones can't fight, but if we pray a good deal to God, will that help?"
"Yes, daughter, for the Bible tells us God is the hearer and answerer of prayer."
Elsie herself seemed entirely free from agitation and alarm; full of hope and courage, she inspired those about her with the same feelings; the domestic machinery moved on in its usual quiet, regular fashion.
The kitchen department it is true, was the scene of much earnest talk, but the words were spoken with bated breath, and many an anxious glance from door and window, as if the speakers feared the vicinity of some lurking foe.
Aunt Dicey was overseeing the making of a huge kettle of soft soap.
"Tears like dis yer's a long time a comin'," she said, giving the liquid a vigorous stir, then lifting her paddle and holding it over the kettle to see if it dripped off in the desired ropy condition; "but dere, dis ole sinnah no business growlin' 'bout dat; yah! yah!" and dropping the paddle, she put her hands on her hips, rolled up her eyes and fairly shook with half suppressed laughter.
"What you larfin' at, Aunt Dicey? 'pears you's mighty tickled 'bout suffin'," remarked the cook, looking up in wonder and curiosity from the eggs she was beating.
"What's de fun, Aunt Dicey?" asked Uncle Joe, who sat in the doorway busily engaged in cleaning a gun.
"Why, don't you see, darkies? de soap ain't gwine to come till 'bout de time de Kluxes roun' heyah; den dis chile gib 'em a berry warm deception, yah! yah! yah!"
"A powerful hot one," observed the cook, joining in the laugh; "but dey won't min' it; dey's cobered up, you know."
"'Taint no diffence," remarked Uncle Joe, "de gowns an' masks, dey's nuffin but cotton cloth, an' de hot soap'll permeate right tru, an' scald de rascal's skins!"
"Dat's so; an' take de skin off too."
Uncle Joe stopped work and mused a moment, scratching his head and gazing into vacancy.
"'Clar to goodness dat's a splendid idea, Aunt Dicey!" he burst out at length. "An' let's hab a kettle ob boilin' lye to tote up stairs in da house, 'bout de time we see de Kluxes comin' up de road; den Aunt Chloe an' Prilla can expense it out ob de windows; a dippah full at a time. Kin you git um ready fo' den?"
"Dat I kin," she replied with energy, "dis consecrated lye don't take no time to fix. I'll hab it ready, sho' as you lib."
Meanwhile the party from the Oaks had arrived according to appointment, and with Mr. Travilla and his guest, were busy with their arrangements for the coming conflict, when quite unexpectedly old Mr. Dinsmore and Calhoun Conly appeared upon the scene.
"We have broken in upon a conference, I think," remarked the old gentleman, glancing from one to another and noticing that the entrance of himself and grandson seemed to thrown a slight constraint over them.
"Rest assured, sir, that you are most welcome," replied Mr. Travilla. "We were conferring together on a matter of importance, but one which I am satisfied need not be concealed from you or Cal. I have had certain information that the Ku Klux—"
"Stay!" cried Calhoun, springing to his feet, a burning flush rising to his very hair, "don't, I beg of you, cousin, say another word in my presence. I—I know I'm liable to be misunderstood—a wrong construction put upon my conduct," he continued glancing in an agony of shame and entreaty from one astonished face to another, "but I beg you will judge me leniently and never, never, doubt my loyalty to you all," and bowing courteously to the company he hastily left the room, and hurrying out of the house, mounted his horse and galloped swiftly down the avenue.
For a moment those left behind looked at each other in dumb surprise; then old Mr. Dinsmore broke the silence by a muttered exclamation, "Has the boy gone daft?"
"I think I understand it, sir," said his son, "poor Cal has been deceived and cajoled into joining that organization, under a misapprehension of its deeds and aims, but having learned how base, cruel, and insurrectionary they are, has ceased to act with them—or rather never has acted with them—yet is bound by oath to keep their secrets and do nothing against them."
"Would be perilling his life by taking part against them," added Mr. Travilla. "I think he has done the very best he could under the circumstances."
He then went on with his communication to the old gentleman, who received it with a storm of wrath and indignation.
"It is time indeed to put them down when it has come to this!" he exclaimed, "The idea of their daring to attack a man of your standing, an old family like this,—of the best blood in the country! I say it's downright insolence, and I'll come over myself and help chastise them for their temerity."
"Then you counsel resistance, sir?" queried his son.
"Counsel it? of course I do! nobody but a coward and poltroon would think of anything else. But what are your plans, Travilla?"
"To barricade the verandas with bags of sand and bales of cotton, leaving loopholes here and there, post ourselves behind these defenses, and do what execution we can upon the assailants."
"Good! Who's your captain?"
"Your son, sir."
"Very good; he has had little or no experience in actual warfare, but I think his maiden effort will prove a success."
"If on seeing our preparations they depart peaceably, well and good," remarked Travilla. "But if they insist on forcing an entrance, we shall feel no scruples about firing upon them."
"Humph! I should think not, indeed!" grunted the old gentleman;
"'Self-defense is the first law of nature.'"
"And we are told by our Lord, 'all they that take the sword, shall perish with the sword,'" observed his son.
The arrangements completed, the Dinsmores returned to their homes for the rest of the day.
About dusk the work of barricading was begun, all the able-bodied men on the plantation, both house-servants and field-hands, being set to work at it. The materials had been brought up to the near vicinity of the house during the day. The men's hearts were in the undertaking (not one of them but would have risked his own life freely in defense of their loved master and mistress), and many hands made light and speedy work.
While this was in progress, old Mr. Dinsmore and the whole family from the Oaks arrived; Rose and her daughter preferring to be there rather than left at home without their natural protectors.
Elsie welcomed them joyfully and at once engaged their assistance in loading for the gentlemen.
The little ones were already in bed and sleeping sweetly, secure in the love and protecting care of their earthly and their heavenly Father. Little Elsie, now ten years old, was no longer required to retire quite so early, but when her regular hour came she went without a murmur.
She was quite ready for bed, had just risen from her knees, when her mother came softly in and clasped her in a tender embrace.
"Mamma, dear, dear mamma, how I love you! and papa too!" whispered the child, twining her arms about her mother's neck. "Don't let us be afraid of those wicked men, mamma. I am sure God will not let them get papa, because we have all prayed so much for his help; all of us together in worship this morning and this evening, and we children up here; and Jesus said, 'If two of you shall agree on earth, as touching anything that they shall ask, it shall be done for them of my Father which is in heaven.'"
"Yes, darling, and he will fulfill his word; he will not suffer anything to befall but what shall be for his glory and our good. Now, dear daughter, lie down and take that promise for a pillow to sleep upon; and if waked by sounds of conflict, lift up your heart to God for your dear father, and mine, and all of us."
"I will, mamma, I will."
Leaving a loving kiss on the sweet young lips, and another on the brow of her sleeping Violet, the mother glided noiselessly from the room.
"What is it, mammy?" she asked on finding her faithful old nurse waiting to speak with her in the outer room.
"Miss Elsie, honey, is you willin' to let us scald dem Kluxes wid boilin' soap an' lye?"
"Scald them, mammy?" she exclaimed with a slight shudder. "I can hardly bear the thought of treating a dog so cruelly!"
"But dey's worse dan dogs. Miss Elsie; dogs neber come and detack folks dat's sleepin' quietly in dere beds; does dey now?"
"No; and these men would take my husband's life. You may all fight them with any weapon you can lay hands on."
Aunt Chloe returned her thanks and proceeded to give an account of the plan concocted by Aunt Dicey and Uncle Joe.
Elsie, returning to the dining-room, repeated it there.
"Excellent!" exclaimed her brother. "Come, Art, let's hang a bell in the kitchen and attach a string to it, taking the other end up to the observatory."
The suggestion was immediately carried out. It had been previously arranged that the two young men should repair to the observatory, and there watch for the coming of the foe, and on their first appearance, probably a mile or more distant, give the alarm to those below, by pulling a wire attached to that from which the front door bell was suspended; thus setting it to ringing loudly. Now they were prepared to sound the tocsin in the kitchen, also, thus giving time for the removal of the boiling lye from the fire there to the second story of the mansion, where it was to be used according to Uncle Joe's plan.
The detective had reported the assailing party as numbering from thirty-five to forty; but the Ion force, though much inferior in point of numbers, even with the addition of eight or ten negro men belonging to the Oaks and Ion, who were tolerably proficient in the use of firearms, certainly had the advantage of position, and of being on the side of right and justice.
The gentlemen seemed full of a cheerful courage, the ladies calm and hopeful. Yet they refused to retire, though strongly urged to do so, insisting that to sleep would be simply impossible.
It was but ten o'clock when all was ready, yet the young men deemed it most prudent to betake themselves at once to their outlook, since there might possibly have been some change in the plans of the enemy.
The others gathered in one of the lower rooms to while away the tedious time of waiting as best they could. Conversation flagged; they tried music, but it had lost its charms for the time being; they turned away from the piano and harp and sank into silence; the house seemed strangely silent, and the pattering of Bruno's feet as he passed slowly down the whole length of the corridor without, came to their ears with almost startling distinctness.
Then he appeared in the doorway, where he stood turning his eyes from one to another with a wistful, questioning gaze: then words seemed to come from his lips in tones of wonder and inquiry.
"What are you all doing here at this time o' night, when honest folk should be a-bed?"
"Just what I've been asking myself for the last hour," gravely remarked a statue in a niche in the opposite wall.
The effect was startling even to those who understood the thing; more so to the others, Rosie screamed and ran to her father for protection.
"Why, why, why!" cried old Mr. Dinsmore, in momentary perplexity and astonishment.
"Don't be afraid Miss Rosie; I'm a faithful friend, and the woman over there couldn't hurt you if she would," said Bruno, going up to the young girl, wagging his tail and touching his cold nose to her hand.
She drew it away with another scream.
"Dear child," said her sister, "it is only a trick of ventriloquism."
"Meant to amuse, not alarm," added Mr. Lilburn.
Rosie, nestling in her father's arms, drew a long breath of relief, and half laughing, half crying, looked up saucily into Mr. Lilburn's face.
"And it was you, sir? oh, how you scared me!"
"I beg your pardon, my bonnie lassie," he said, "I thought to relieve, somewhat, the tediousness of the hour."
"For which accept our thanks," said Mr. Dinsmore. "But I perceive it is not the first time that Travilla and Elsie have been witnesses of your skill."
"No," said Elsie, laughing. "My dear, you are good at a story, tell them what happened at breakfast this morning."
Mr. Travilla complied with the request. He was an excellent story-teller and made his narrative very entertaining.
But in the midst of their mirth a sudden awe-struck silence fell upon them. There was a sound as of the rattling of stiffly starched robes; then a gruff voice from the hall exclaimed, "There he is, the old scalawag! Dinsmore too. Now take good aim, Bill, and let's make sure work."
Rosie was near screaming again, but catching sight of Mr. Lilburn's face, laughed instead; a little hysterical nervous laugh.
"Oh t's you again, sir!" she cried. "Please don't frighten me any more."
"Ah, no, I will not," he said, and at that moment a toy man and woman on the table began a vastly amusing conversation about their own private affairs.
In the kitchen and the domiciles of the house-servants, there was the same waiting and watching; old and young, all up and wide awake, gathered in groups and talked in undertones, of the doings of the Ku Klux, and of the reception they hoped to give them that night. Aunt Dicey glorying in the prospect of doing good service in the defense of "her family" as she proudly termed her master, mistress and the children, kept her kettles of soap and lye at boiling heat, and two stalwart fellows close at hand to obey her orders.
Aunt Chloe and Dinah were not with the others, but in the nursery watching over the slumbers of "de chillens." Uncle Joe was with Mr. Leland, who was not yet able to use the wounded limb and was to be assisted to his hiding place upon the first note of alarm.
In the observatory the two young men kept a vigilant eye upon every avenue of approach to the plantation. There was no moon that night, but the clear bright starlight made it possible to discern moving white objects at a considerable distance. Horace was full of excitement and almost eager for the affray, Arthur calm and quiet.
"This waiting is intolerable!" exclaimed the former when they had been nearly an hour at their post. "How do you stand it, Art?"
"I find it tedious, and there is in all probability, at least an hour of it yet before us. But my impatience is quelled by the thought that it may be to me the last hour of life."
"True; and to me also. A solemn thought, Art, and yet might not the same be said of any day or hour of our lives?"
From that they fell into a very serious conversation in which each learned more of the other's inner life than he had ever known before: both were trusting in Christ and seeking to know and do his will, and from that hour their hearts were knit together as the hearts of David and Jonathan.
Gradually their talk ceased till but a word or two was dropped now and then, while the vigilance of their watch was redoubled; for the hour of midnight had struck—the silver chimes of a clock in the hall below coming distinctly to their ears—and any moment might bring the raiders into view.
Below stairs too a solemn hush had fallen upon each with the first stroke of the clock, and hearts were going up in silent prayer to God.
Horace was gazing intently in the direction of Fairview but at a point somewhat beyond.
"Look, Art!" he cried in an excited whisper, "do my eyes deceive me? or are there really some white objects creeping slowly along yonder road?"
"I—I think—yes, yes it is they!" returned Arthur, giving a rigorous pull to the string attached to the bell in the kitchen, while Horace did the same by the wire connected with the other; then springing to the stairway they descended with all haste.
Loudly the alarm pealed out in both places, bringing all to their feet, and paling the cheeks of the ladies.
Mr. Dinsmore's orders were given promptly, in calm, firm tones, and each repaired to his post.
Aunt Dicey, assuming command in the kitchen, delivered her orders with equal promptness and decision.
"Yo' Ben an' Jack, tote dis yer pot ob lye up stairs quick as lightnin', an' set it whar Aunt Chloe tells yo'. An' yo' Venus, stan' by de pot ob soap wid a dippah in yo' hand, an' fire away at de fust Klux dat shows his debbil horns an' tongue at de do'. Min' now, yo' take um in de eye, an' he neber come roun' heyah no mo' tryin' to kill Marse Ed'ard."
Mr. Leland had fallen asleep in the early part of the evening, but woke with the ringing of the alarm bells.
"Ah, they must be in sight, Uncle Joe," he said; "help me to my hiding place and leave me there. You will be needed below."
"Yes, Massa Leland, dey's coming" said the old man, instantly complying with his request, "an' dis niggah's to demand de boilin' lye compartment ob dis army ob defense."
A narrow couch had been spread in the little concealed apartment, and in a trice Mr. Leland found himself stretched upon it.
"There, I'm quite comfortable, Uncle Joe," he said; "lay my pistols here, close to my hand; then close the panel with all care, and when you leave the room, lock the door behind you and hide the key in the usual place."
"Yes, sah; an' please, sah, as yo's got nuffin' else for to do, keep askin' de Lord ob armies to help de right."
"That I will," answered Leland heartily.
Uncle Joe, moving with almost youthful alacrity, obeyed the orders given, and hastened to join his wife and Dinah whom he found on the upper veranda in front of the nursery windows, standing ladle in hand, one by the kettle of lye, the other leaning over the railing watching for the coming of the foe.
The old man, arming himself also with a ladle of large capacity, took his station beside the latter.
"Aunt Chloe," said he, "yo' bettah go back to de chillens, fear dey might wake up an' be powerful scared."
"Yes, spect I bettah; dere ole mammy do best to be wid de darlins," she replied, resigning her ladle to Prilla, who joined them at that moment, and hurrying back to her charge.
She found her mistress bending over the crib of the sleeping babe. "I am so thankful they were not roused by the noise, mammy," she said softly, glancing at the bed where the older two lay in profound slumber, "but don't leave them alone even for a moment."
"Deed I won't, darlin'; de bressed little lambs! dere ole mammy'd fight de Kluxes to her last breff, fo' dey should hurt a hair ob deir heads. But don't ye fret, Miss Elsie, honey; dey'll not come yere; de good Lord 'll not let dem get into de house," she added, big tears filling her old eyes, while she clasped her idolized mistress in her arms as if she were still the little girl she had so loved to caress and fondle years ago.
Elsie returned the embrace, gave a few whispered directions, and glided into the next room, there to linger a moment by the couch of her little girls, who were also sleeping sweetly, then hastened to rejoin Mrs. Dinsmore and Rosie, in one of the rooms opening upon the lower front veranda.
They sat at a table covered with arms and ammunition. Rose was a little pale, but calm and composed, as was Elsie also; Rosie, making a great effort to be brave, could not still the loud beating of her heart as she sat listening intently for sounds from without.
Elsie placing herself beside her young sister and taking her hand, pressed it tenderly, whispering with a glad smile, "'They that trust in the Lord shall be as Mount Zion, which can not be removed, but abideth forever.'"
Rosie nodded a half-tearful assent.
Horace looked in. "They are just entering the avenue. Mother and sisters, be brave and help us with your prayers," he said, low and earnestly, and was gone.
The ladies exchanged one swift glance, then bent forward in a listening attitude and for the next few moments every other sense seemed lost in that of hearing.
The raiders, as was their usual custom, had dismounted at the gate, and leaving their horses in the care of two of their number, approached the house on foot. They came on three abreast, but as they neared the dwelling, one line branched off and passed around it in the direction of the kitchen.
In an instant more the double column, headed by the leader of the troop, had reached the steps of the veranda, where it came to a sudden halt, a sort of half smothered grunt of astonishment coming from the captain as he hastily ran his eye along the barricade, which till that moment had been concealed from himself and comrades, by the semi-darkness and a profusion of flowering vines.
The darkness and silence of death seemed to reign within: yet each one of the little garrison was at his post, looking out through a loophole, and covering one or another of the foe with his revolver, while with his finger upon the trigger, he only awaited the word of command to send the bullet to its mark.
Young Horace found it hard to restrain his impatience. "What a splendid opportunity his father was letting slip! why did he hesitate to give the signal?" For, perhaps, the first time in his life, the young man thought his father unwise.
But Mr. Dinsmore knew what he was about; blood should not be shed till the absolute necessity was placed beyond question.
A moment of suspense, of apparent hesitation on the part of the raiders, then in stentorian tones the leader, stepping back a little, called; "Edward Travilla!"
No answer.
An instant of dead silence; then the call was repeated.
Elsie shuddered and hid her face, faltering out a prayer for her husband's safety.
Still no reply, and the third time the man called, adding, with a volley of oaths and curses, "We want you, sir: come out at once or it'll be the worse for you."
Then Mr. Dinsmore answered in calm, firm tones, "Your purpose is known; your demand is unreasonable and lawless, and will not be complied with; withdraw your men at once or it will be the worse for you."
"Boys!" cried the leader, turning to his men, "up with your axes and clubs, we've got to batter down this breastwork, and it must be done!"
With a yell of fury the hideous forms rushed forward to the attack.
"Fire!" rang out Mr. Dinsmore's voice in clarion tones, and instantly the crack of half a dozen revolvers was heard, a light blaze ran along the line of loopholes, and at the same instant a sudden, scalding shower fell upon the assailants from above.
Several of them dropped upon the ground and as many more threw away their clubs, and ran screaming and swearing down the avenue.
But the others rallied and came on again yelling with redoubled fury; while simultaneously similar sounds came from the sides and rear of the dwelling.
The scalding shower was descending there, also; Uncle Joe and his command were busy, and bullets were flying and doing some execution, though sent with less certain aim than from the front.
Aunt Dicey, too, and her satellites were winning the laurels they coveted.
As she had expected, several of the assailants came thundering at her door, loudly demanding admittance, at the same time that the attack was made in front.
"Who dar? What you want?" she called.
"We want in; open the door instantly!"
"No, sah! dis chile don' do no sich ting! Dis Marse Ed'ard's kitchen, an' Miss Elsie's."
Then in an undertone, "Now Venus an' Lize, fill yo' dippahs quick! an' when dis niggah says fire, slam de contentions—dat's de bilin' soap, min'—right into dar ugly faces."
"An' Sally Ann, yo' creep up dem stairs, quick as lightnin' an' hide under the bed. It's yo' dey's after; somebody mus' a tole 'em yo' sleeps yere sense de night dat bloody hand ben laid on yo' shouldah."
These orders were scarcely issued and obeyed when the door fell in with a loud crash, and a hideous horned head appeared in the opening; but only to receive three ladles-full of the boiling soap full in its face, and fall back with a terrible, unearthly yell of agony and rage, into the arms of its companions, who quickly bore it shrieking away.
"Tank de Lord, dat shot tole!" ejaculated Aunt Dicey. "Now stan' ready for de nex'."
The party in front were received with the same galling fire as before, and at the same moment a sound, coming apparently from the road beyond the avenue, a sound as of the steady tramp, tramp of infantry, and the heavy rumbling and rolling of artillery, smote upon their ears.
There had been a report that Federal troops were on the march to suppress the outrages, and protect the helpless victims, and seized with panic terror, the raiders gathered up their dead and wounded and fled.
Chapter Eighteenth.
"Thus far our fortune keeps an onward course
And we are grac'd with wreaths of victory."
"Victory!" shouted Horace, Jr., waving his handkerchief about his head, "victory, and an end to the reign of terror! Hurrah for the brave troops of Uncle Sam that came so opportunely to the rescue! Come, let us sally forth to meet them. Elsie, unlock your stores and furnish the refreshments they have so well earned."
"They draw nearer!" cried Arthur, who had been listening intently. "Haste! they must be about entering the avenue. They will meet the raiders. Travilla, uncle, shall we make an opening here in our breastworks?"
"Yes," answered both in a breath, then, as if struck by a sudden thought, "No, no, let us reconnoitre first!" cried Mr. Dinsmore. "Horace, run up to the observatory, take a careful survey, and report as promptly as possible."
Horace bounded away, hardly waiting to hear the conclusion of the sentence.
"I counsel delay," said old Mr. Dinsmore who was peering through a loophole, "the troops have not entered the avenue, the Ku Klux may return; though I do not expect it after the severe repulse we have twice given them; but 'discretion is the better part of valor.'"
"Right, sir," said Mr. Lilburn, "let us give them no chance for a more successful onslaught."
"Oh, yes, do be careful!" cried the ladies, joining them, "don't tear down the least part of our defences yet."
"Have they really fled? Are you all unhurt?" asked Rose in trembling tones.
"Edward! papa!" faltered Elsie.
"Safe and sound," they both answered.
"Thank God! thank God!" she cried as her husband folded her in his arms, and her father took her hand in his, while with the other arm he embraced Rose.
"We have indeed cause for thankfulness," said Arthur, returning from a hurried circuit of the verandas, "not one on our side has received a scratch. But I have ordered the men to remain at their posts for the present."
Horace came rushing back. "I can not understand it! I see no sign of troops, though—"
"The darkness," suggested his mother.
"Hark! hark! the bugle call; they are charging on the Ku Klux!" exclaimed Arthur, as a silvery sound came floating on the night breeze.
"Oh they have come! they have come!" cried Rosie, clapping her hands and dancing up and down with delight. "Now our troubles are over and there will be no more of these dreadful raids." And in the exuberance of her joy she embraced first her mother, then her sister, and lastly threw herself into her father's arms.
"Ah I wish it were so," he said caressing her, "but I begin to fear that the sounds we have heard with so much relief and pleasure, were as unreal as Bruno's talking a while ago."
"Oh, was it you, Mr. Lilburn?" she cried in a tone of sore disappointment.
"Ah well, my bonnie lassie, the Ku Klux are gone at all events: let us be thankful for that," he answered.
"What, what does it all mean?" asked the two young men in a breath, "what strange deception has been practiced upon us?"
"My cousin is a ventriloquist," replied Elsie, "and has done us good service in using his talent to help in driving away the Ku Klux."
He instantly received a unanimous vote of thanks, and the young people began pouring out eager questions and remarks:
"Another time; my work is but half done! I must pursue!" he cried, hastily leaving them to seek an exit from the house.
Elsie hurried away to see if her little ones still slept. All did but little Elsie, and she was full of joy and thankfulness that her dear papa's cruel foes had been driven away.
"Ah, mamma, God has heard our prayers and helped us out of this great trouble!" she said, receiving and returning a tender embrace.
"Indeed he has, daughter, let us thank him for his goodness, and ever put our trust in him. Have you been long awake?"
"It was their dreadful screams that waked me, mamma. I couldn't help crying for one man; it seemed as if he must be in such an agony of pain. Uncle Joe says Aunt Dicey and the others threw boiling soap into his eyes, and all over his face and head. Mamma aren't you sorry for him?"
"Yes, indeed!" and the child felt a great tear fall on her head, resting on her mother's bosom, "poor, poor fellow! he finds the way of transgressors hard, as the Bible says it is. Now, darling, lie down again and try to sleep, I think the danger is all over for to-night."
Returning she met her husband in the hall, "I have been to tell Leland the good news!" he said; "he is very happy over it. And now, dear wife, go to bed and sleep, if you can; you are looking very weary, and I think need fear no further disturbance. Your grandfather, Mrs. Dinsmore and Rosie have yielded to our persuasions and retired."
"And you and papa?"
"Can easily stand the loss of one night's sleep, but may perhaps get an hour or so of repose upon the sofas. But we will keep a constant watch till sunrise. Arthur and Horace are going up to the observatory again, while the rest of us will pace the veranda by turns."
Morning found the Ion mansion wearing much the appearance of a recently besieged fortress. How many of the Klan had lost their lives it was impossible to tell, but probably only a small number, as the aim of the party of defense had been, by mutual agreement, to disable and not to slay; but it was thought the assailants had suffered a sufficiently severe punishment to deter them from a renewal of the attack. Also Mr. Lilburn's pursuit keeping up the delusion that troops were at hand, had greatly frightened and demoralized them. So the barricades were presently taken down, and gradually the dwelling and its surroundings resumed their usual aspect of neatness, order, and elegance.
All the friends remained to breakfast, but their presence did not exclude the children from the table.
While the guests were being helped, there was a momentary silence broken by a faint squeal that seemed to come from under Eddie's plate.
"Mousie at de table!" cried Harold; then "Oh me dot a bird!" as the notes of a canary came from underneath his plate.
"Pick up your plates and let us see the mouse and the bird," said their papa, smiling.
They obeyed.
"Ah, I knew there was nothing there," said Eddie, laughing and looking at Cousin Ronald, while Harold gazing at the table-cloth in disappointed surprise, cried, "Ah it's gone! it must have flewed away."
Calhoun Conly, knowing nothing, but suspecting a great deal, and full of anxiety, repaired to Ion directly after breakfast. Blood-stains on the ground without and within the gate, and here and there along the avenue as he rode up to the house, confirmed his surmise that his friends had been attacked by the Ku Klux the previous night. He found them all in the library talking the matter over.
"Ah, sir! like a brave man and a true friend, you come when the fight is over," was his grandfather's sarcastic greeting.
"It was my misfortune, sir, to be unable in this instance, to follow my inclination," returned the young man, coloring to the very roots of his hair with mortification. "But"—glancing around the circle—"heaven be thanked that I find you all unhurt," he added with a sigh that told that a great load had been taken from his heart. "May I hear the story? I see the men are tearing down a breastwork and I suppose the attacking party must have been a large one."
"Not too large, however, for us to beat back and defeat without your assistance," growled his grandfather.
"Ah, grandpa, he would have helped if he could," said Mrs. Travilla.
"Sit down, Cal, we are very glad to see you."
His uncle and Travilla joined in the assurance, but Horace and Arthur regarded him rather coldly, and "Cousin Ronald" thought he deserved some slight punishment.
As he attempted to take the offered seat, "Squeal! squeal! squeal!" came from his coat pocket, causing him to start and redden again, with renewed embarrassment.
"O Cousin Cal! has you dot a wee little piggie in your pocket? Let me see him," cried Harold, running up and trying to get a peep at it; then starting back with a cry of alarm, at a sudden loud barking, as of an infuriated dog, at Calhoun's heels.
Bruno came bounding in with an answering bark; Calhoun thrusting his hand into his pocket with purpose to summarily eject the pig, and at the same time wheeling about to confront his canine antagonist, looked utterly confounded at finding none there, while to add to his confusion and perplexity, a bee seemed to be circling round his head, now buzzing at one ear, now at the other.
He tried to dodge it, he put up his hand to drive it away, then wheeled about a second time, as the furious bark was renewed in his rear but turned pale and looked absolutely frightened at the discovery that the dog was still invisible; then reddened again at perceiving that everybody was laughing.
His cousin Elsie was trying to explain, but could not make herself heard above the furious barking. She looked imploringly at Mr. Lilburn, and it ceased on the instant.
Calhoun dropped into a chair and glanced inquiringly from one to another.
His uncle answered him in a single word, "Ventriloquism."
"Sold!" exclaimed the youth, joining faintly in the mirth. "Strange I did not think of that, though how could I suppose there was a ventriloquist here?"
"An excellent one, is he not? You must hear what good service he did last night," said Mr. Travilla, and went on to tell the story of the attack and defense.
Elsie and Eddie listened to the account with keen interest. Vi, who had been devoting herself in motherly fashion to a favorite doll, laid it aside to hear what was said; but Harold was playing with Bruno, who seemed hardly yet to have recovered from his wonder at not finding the strange canine intruder who had so roused his ire.
Harold had climbed upon his back, and with his arms around his neck, was talking to him in an undertone. "Now you's my horse, Bruno; let's go ridin' like papa and Beppo."
The dog started toward the door. "With all my heart, little master; which way shall we go?"
"Why, Bruno, you s'prise me! can you talk?" cried the little fellow in great delight. "Why didn't you begin sooner? Mamma, oh mamma, did you hear Bruno talk?"
Mamma smiled, and said gently, "Be quiet, son, while papa and the rest are talking: or else take Bruno out to the veranda."
Cousin Ronald was amusing himself with the children. Vi's doll presently began to cry and call upon her to be taken up, and she ran to it in surprised delight, till she remembered that it was "only Cousin Ronald and not dolly at all."
But Cousin Ronald had a higher object than his own or the children's amusement: he was trying to divert their thoughts from the doings of the Ku Klux, lest they should grow timid and fearful.
Chapter Nineteenth.
"Revenge at first though sweet,
Bitter ere long, back on itself recoils."
—MILTON.
George Boyd, who was of most vindictive temper, had laid his plans for the night of the raid upon Ion, to wreak his vengeance not upon Travilla only, but also upon the woman on whose clothing he had left the impress of his bloody hand.
With this in view, he went first to the kitchen department where, as he had learned through the gossip of the servants, she now passed the night, intending afterward to have a hand in the brutal flogging to be meted out to Mr. Travilla. He headed the attacking party there, and it was he who received upon his person the full broadside from Aunt Dicey's battery of soap ladles.
The pain was horrible, the scorching mass clinging to the flesh and burning deeper and deeper as he was borne shrieking away in the arms of his comrades.
"Oh take it off! take it off! I'm burning up, I tell you!" he yelled as they carried him swiftly down the avenue; but they hurried on, seemingly unmindful of his cries, mingled though they were with oaths and imprecations, nor paused till they had reached the shelter of the woods at some little distance on the opposite side of the road.
"Curse you!" he said between his clenched teeth, as they laid him down at the foot of a tree, "curse you! for keeping me in this agony. Help me off with these—duds. Unbutton it, quick! quick! I'm burning up, I tell you; and my hands are nearly as bad as my face. Oh! oh! you fiends! do you want to murder me outright? you're bringing all the skin with it!" he roared, writhing in unendurable torture, as they dragged off the disguise. "Oh kill me! Bill, shoot me through the head and put me out of this torment, will you?"
"No, no, I daren't. Come, come, pluck up courage and bear it like a man."
"Bear it indeed! I only wish you had it to bear. I tell you it can't be borne! Water, water, for the love of heaven! carry me to the river and throw me in. My eyes are put out; they burn like balls of fire."
"Stop that yelling, will you!" cried a voice from a little distance, "you'll betray us. We're whipped, and there's troops coming up too."
"Sure, Smith?"
"Yes, heard their tramp, tramp distinctly ramble of artillery too. Can't be more'n a mile off, if that. Hurry, boys, no time to lose! Who's this groaning at such an awful rate? What's the matter?"
"Scalded; horribly scalded."
"He ain't the only one, though maybe he's the worst. And Blake's killed outright; two or three more, I believe; some with pretty bad pistol-shot wounds. Tell you they made warm work for us. There's been a traitor among us; betrayed our plans and put 'em on their guard."
He concluded with a torrent of oaths and fearful imprecations upon the traitor, whoever he might be.
"Hist!" cried the one Boyd had addressed as Bill, "hist boys! the bugle call! they're on us. Stop your noise, Boyd, can't you!" as the latter, seized, and borne onward again, not too gently, yelled and roared with redoubled vigor: "Be quiet or you'll have 'em after us in no time."
"Shoot me through the head then: it's the only thing that'll help me to stop it."
Mr. Lilburn, keeping well in the shadow of the trees, had hurried after the retreating foe, and concealing himself behind a clump of bushes close to the gate, caused his bugle note to sound in their ears as if coming from a point some half a mile distant.
Convinced that a detachment of United States troops were almost upon them, those carrying the dead and wounded dashed into the wood with their burdens, while in hot haste the others mounted and away, never drawing rein until they had put several miles between them and the scene of their attempted outrage.
Meantime those in the wood, moving as rapidly as possible under the circumstances, were plunging deeper and deeper into its recesses.
There was an occasional groan or half suppressed shriek from others of the wounded, but Boyd's cries were incessant and heart-rending, till a handkerchief was suddenly thrust into his mouth with a muttered exclamation, "Necessity knows no law! it's to save your own life and liberty as well as ours."
At length, well nigh spent with their exertions, the bearers paused, resting their burdens for a moment upon the ground, while they listened intently for the sounds of pursuit.
"We've baffled 'em, I think," panted Bill, "I don't hear no more of that—tramp, tramp, and the bugle's stopped too."
"That's so and I reckon we're pretty safe now," returned another voice.
"But what's to be done with these fellows? where'll we take 'em?"
"To Rood's still-house," was the answer. "It's about half a mile further on, and deep in the woods. And I say you, Tom Arnold, pull off your disguise and go after Dr. Savage as fast as you can. Tell him to come to the still-house on the fleetest horse he can get hold of; and bring along everything necessary to dress scalds and pistol-shot wounds. Say there's no time to lose or Boyd'll die on our hands. Now up with your load, boys, and on again."
The voice had a tone of command and the orders were instantly obeyed.
The still-house was an old, dilapidated frame building, whose rude accommodations differed widely from those to which, save during his army life, Boyd had been accustomed from infancy.
They carried him in and laid him down upon a rough pallet of straw furnished with coarse cotton sheets and an army blanket or two, not over clean.
But in his dire extremity of pain he heeded naught of this, and his blinded eyes could not see the bare rafters overhead, the filthy uncarpeted floor, the few broken chairs and rude board seats, or the little unpainted pine table with its bit of flickering, flaming tallow candle, stuck in an old bottle.
His comrades did what they could for his relief; but it was not much, and their clumsy handling was exquisite torture to the raw, quivering flesh, and his entreaties that they would put him out of his misery at once, by sending a bullet through his brain, were piteous to hear. They had taken his arms from him, or he would have destroyed himself.
The room was filled with doleful sounds,—the groans and sighs of men in sore pain, but his rose above all others.
Dr. Savage arrived at length, but half drunk, and, an unskillful surgeon at his best, made but clumsy work with his patients on this occasion.
Yet the applications brought, in time, some slight alleviation of even Boyd's unendurable agony; his cries grew fainter and less frequent, till they ceased altogether, and like the other wounded he relieved himself only with an occasional moan or groan.
The doctor had finished his task, and lay in a drunken sleep on the floor. The uninjured raiders had followed his example, the candle had burned itself out and all was darkness and silence save the low, fitful sounds of suffering.
To Boyd sleep was impossible, the pain of his burns was still very great; especially in his eyes, the injury to which he feared must result in total blindness. How could he bear it? he asked himself, to go groping his way through life in utter darkness? Horrible! horrible! he would not endure it; they had put the means of self-destruction out of his way now, but on the first opportunity to get hold of a pistol, he would blow his own brains out and be done with this agony. The Bible was a fable; death an eternal sleep; he had been saying it for years, till he thought his belief—or more correctly unbelief—firmly fixed: but now the early teachings of a pious mother came back to him and he trembled with the fear that they might be true.
"It is appointed unto men once to die, but after that the judgment." "Every one of us shall give an account of himself to God." "These shall go away into everlasting punishment." "Where their worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched." Fire, fire! oh how unendurable he had found it! dare he risk its torment throughout the endless ages of eternity? Self-destruction might be but a plunge into deeper depths of anguish: from which there could be no return.
For days and weeks he lay in his miserable hiding place, almost untended save for the doctor's visits, and the bringing of his meals by one or another of his confederates, who would feed him with a rough sort of kindness, then go away again, leaving him to the solitary companionship of his own bitter thoughts.
He longed for the pleasant society and gentle ministrations of his aunt, and he knew that if sent for she would come to him, and that his secret would be safe with her; but alas, how could he bear that she should know of his crime and its punishment? She who had so earnestly besought him to forsake his evil ways and live in peace and love with all men: she who had warned him again and again that "the way of transgressors is hard," and that "though hand join in hand, the wicked shall not be unpunished." She who had loved, cared for, and watched over him with almost a mother's undying, unalterable tenderness and devotion.
How ungrateful she would deem his repeated attempt against the home and husband of one whom she loved as her own child. She would not reprove him, she would not betray him, but he would know that in her secret heart she condemned him as a guilty wretch, a disgrace to her and all his relatives; and that would be worse, far worse to his proud spirit than the dreary loneliness of his present condition, and the lack of the bodily comforts she would provide.
No, he would bear his bitter fate as best he might, and though he had proved the truth of her warning words, she should never know it, if he could keep it from her.
Troops had arrived in the neighborhood the day after the raid on Ion; so to Boyd's other causes of distress was added the constant fear of detection and apprehension. This was one reason why the visits of his confreres were few and short.
The Klan was said to have disbanded and outrages had ceased, but an investigation was going on and search being made for the guilty parties; also United States revenue officers were known to be in quest of illicit distilleries; to which class this one of Rood's belonged.
"What's the news?" asked Boyd one morning while Savage was engaged in dressing his hurts.
"Very bad; you'll have to get out of this at once if you don't want to be nabbed. A jail might be more comfortable in some respects, eh, old boy? but I s'pose you prefer liberty.
"'Better to sit in Freedom's hall,
With a cold damp floor, and a mouldering wall,
Than to bend the neck or to bow the knee
In the proudest palace of Slavery.'
"Fine sentiment, eh, Boyd?"
The doctor was just drunk enough to spout poetry without knowing or caring whether it was exactly apropos or not.
"Very fine, though not quite to the point, it strikes me," answered Boyd, wincing under the not too gentle touch of the inebriate's shaking hand. "But how am I to get out of this? blind and nearly helpless as I am?"
"Well, sir, we've planned it all out for you—never forsake a brother in distress, you know. There's a warrant out for Bill Dobbs and he has to skedaddle too. He starts for Texas to-night, and will take charge of you."
Savage went on to give the details of the plan, then left with a promise to return at night-fall. He did so, bringing Dobbs and Smith with him. Boyd's wounds were attended to again, Dobbs looking on to learn the modus operandi; then the invalid, aided by Smith on one side and Dobbs on the other, was conducted to an opening in the woods where a horse and wagon stood in readiness, placed in it, Dobbs taking a seat by his side and supporting him with his arm, and driven a few miles along an unfrequented road to a little country station, where they took the night train going south.
The conductor asked no questions; merely exchanged glances with Dobbs, and seeing him apparently in search of a pin in the inside of his coat, opened his own and handed him one, then passed on through the car.
Boyd was missed from the breakfast table at Ashlands on the morning after the raid upon Ion. His aunt sent a servant to his room to see if he had overslept himself.
The man returned with the report that "Marse George" was not there and that his bed had certainly not been occupied during the night.
Still as his movements were at all times rather uncertain, and the ladies, having had no communication with the Oaks or Ion on the previous day, were in ignorance of all that had transpired there, his absence occasioned them no particular anxiety or alarm. The meal went on, enlivened by cheerful chat.
"Mamma," said Herbert, "it's a lovely morning: do give us a holiday and let's drive over to the Oaks; we haven't seen Aunt Rose and the rest for ever so long."
The other children joined in the petition; grandma put in a word of approval, and mamma finally consented, if the truth were told nothing loth to give, or to share the treat.
The carriage was ordered at once, and they set out shortly after leaving the table.
Arrived at their destination they found Mrs. Murray on the veranda, looking out with an eager, anxious face.
"Ah!" she said, coming forward as the ladies alighted, "I didna expect—my sight is no so keen as in my younger days, and I thocht till this moment 'twas Mr. Dinsmore's carriage, bringing them hame again after their dreadfu' nicht at Ion."
Both ladies turned pale, and old Mrs. Carrington leaned heavily upon her daughter-in-law for support. Her lips moved but no sound same from them, and she gasped for breath.
"Oh tell us!" cried Sophie, "what, what has happened?"
The children too were putting the same question in varying tones and words.
"The Ku Klux," faltered the housekeeper. "An' ye hadna heard aboot it, my leddies?"
"No, no, not a word," exclaimed Sophie, "but see, my mother is fainting.
Help me to carry her into the house."
"No, no, I can walk: I am better now, thank you," said Mrs. Carrington, in low, faltering tones, "Just give me the support of your arm, Mrs. Murray."
They led her in between them, and laid her on a sofa.
"And that's where George was!" she sighed, closing her eyes wearily. Then half starting up, "Tell me, oh tell me, was—was—Mr. Travilla injured?"
"No, my leddy, he had been warned, and was ready for them."
"Thank God! thank God!" came faintly from the white quivering lips, as she sank back upon her pillow again, and two great tears stealing from beneath the closed eyelids rolled slowly down the furrowed cheeks.
"You have heard the particulars then?" said Sophie, addressing the housekeeper. "And my brother and sister were there?"
"Yes, ma'am, and Master Horace, and Miss Rosie too. Yes; and some of the men-servants. Mr. Dinsmore's man John was one o' them, and he's come back, and frae him I learned a' was richt with our friends."
"Oh call him in and let me hear all he can tell!" entreated the old lady.
The request was immediately complied with, and John gave a graphic and in the main correct account of the whole affair.
His tale was to all his auditors one of intense, thrilling, painful interest. They lost not a word and when he had finished his story the old lady cross-questioned him closely. "Did he know who had warned Mr. Travilla? were any of the raiders recognized?"