BOOK. I. HOW I STAYED FOR HER. CHAPTER I.

Te Aroha News, Volume VII, Issue 385, 17 July 1889, Page 6

BOOK. I. HOW I STAYED FOR HER. CHAPTER I.

' GOT \OUK CARPET-BAG I'ACKhD ?' 'Lauka — Miss Peyton, may 1 have a dance ?' ' Certainly !' ' The next waltz ?' ' No — the next dance, whatever it is ! Please take the very next, and come with me now.' As she said this, Laura Peyton slipped her aim into mine, and leading me through one of the French windows of the old southern house on to the wide balcony, whispered, her blue eyes blazing with excitement in the moonlight, though her cheeks were pale and her lips trembled : 'Lawrence, has come !" * Do you really mean it ?' ' Ye&, South Caiolina has seceded !' Her words brought almost despair to my heart, for Lauia Peyton was a southern girl and I a northern man ; and though but the day belore we had plighted our troths and given our loves, I trembled as I thought of what the political pa-sions of the time might bring to our lives. Seeing mv -expression, Laura suddenly placed her hand in mine, and whispered : ' This shall never alter my promise to you. Lawrence !' Some girls would have blushed or fluttered with a perhaps unconscious eoquetiy ss they said the words, for this was the second time in her life that my fiancee had called me by my Chiistian name : but Laura Peyton s voice was firm and resolute, and brought back to me a firmness that I must confess for a moment had left me, for I knew the passion that was dominant in the South in 1860, and the manner in which northern men were regarded by a large number of the population south of Mason and Dixon's line. Some of this spirit was observable as we re-entered the house, where a few of [.aura's young friends were enjoying an informal carpet-dance in the large old-fashioned parlour that December e\ening Judge Peyton's residence was about five mile? away from the little capital of South Carolina, and the sudden cessation of the music and excited exclamations of the guests told us that the news had become generally known to the company. Belle, Laura's younger sister, who had been playing one of those old, long - sinceforgotten Jullien" polkas, after a moment's pause suddenly attacked the piano again with all the enthusiasm of sixteen, and sang the local secession air that was soon afterward superseded bv the Bonnie Blue Flag with her whole soul. The eiiect was electrical, and in a moment every voice in the room except my own rang out- wi^i the southern air. My failure to respond to this outburst of secession sentiment was noted by a young lawyer, who had been my friend and chum until a rivalry for Laura's affections and hand had somewhat cooled our good-fellow-ship. Harry Walton stepped up to me, and rather insinuatingly remarked : ' Mr Bryant does not sing 1 this evening. Has he lost his voice ?' • No,' I replied ; ' but I don't know that tune. ' • It's one that you'll have to sing before long, and if necessary I'll try and teach it to you,' sneered young Walton. . * Oh, I'll instruct Law — Mr Bryant myself,' interrupted Laura, anxious to change aconversation that was becoming of a nature that sometimes in chose days led to very serious result?. This stumble over my Christian name probably enraged my rival much more than my refusal to join in the secession melody. 1 An expre a &ior> of trouble passed'over hik face, as he caught a/veiled gl&nce tlVe'girl at my sMe cast>upon me as she interposed between us. He bit his lip, and remarked coldly, with a forced composure : ' Then T leave Mr Bryant to your instructions, -Miss Laura ; but in case you do not succeed — there are other and stronger teachers— — •' ' None that you could bring to bear upon me, Mr Walton,' I remarked.' 'If Miss Peyton does not succeed, you had better not attempt the task.' My rival was about to reply in a tone that might have led to unpleasant results, when the conversation was interrupted by Judge Peyton, the father of my sweetheart, and the company of young people running to him to get his ideas upon the political situation. ' Father, you've heard the news ! We're no longer in the United States. We've cut loose from Uncle Sam. Seceded at last !' cried his son, young Arthur Peyton, with the enthusiasm of twenty. ' Yes ; I've expected this for months,' returned the judge solemnly, ' and feared it i' ' Feared it ?' echoed two or three of the guests. 'Feared it.?' cried his son; ' feared the Yankees ? Why Alabama, Mississippi, Louisianna, Georgia— every southern State is with us. We've all the tiump cards in this game !' 'Humph!' returned the judge. 'But we haven't played them. We'll all do our duty by our State, Arthur ; but I'm afraid there'll be more tears than laughter about this business before it is ended.' With those words and a slight sigh, Judge Peyton turned to his study, and after a few moments the company gradually left for their homes. ' I shall see your father in a day or two, Laura,' I whispered as I bid her good-bye. ' This political complication compels me to have no misunderstanding in my relations to you.' ' You — you know I love you — will love you, no matter what happens,' returned my fiancee. Then mounting my horse for my short ride to Columbia, I saw Laura watching me as I passed down the moonlit avenue, the girl making a very pretty picture backgrounded by her southern home. Laura Peyton, though in some respects a typicalsoutherngirljh^dUttleofthatlanguoi 1 supposed to be peculiar to tropical loveliness, was no brunette with black lustrous eyes and voluptuous lazy beauty, bnt brilliant and blue-eyed, vigorous and direec n movement and mind, and of a beauty hat made her a female load-stone io the ocal beaux. Perhaps from very force of contrast .to the languid manners of most 61 the South Carolina girte about her, she'was one of the most popular young ladies in the section-f)f tfye State near Columbia. It was "a, short 'fi e' miles to the capital. let my hprse take his own gait,? while I

meditated upon tho problem beforo me — that was to win and marry a southern girl from a southern family — from a seceded State, I — a northern man — a Union man, one who might have to most her relatives even in battle — and this in December ot | the year 1860, with tho passion of that gigantic political volcano seething and sfciuggling and fighting to break out of the crater that had been opened that very day by the secession of South Carolina. Pondering upon this problem I trotted into the main street of Columbia, which was full of excitod people discussing the situation, and as I did so, statted and listened. The city bell upon the old market was ringing out joyous peal upon peal that meant its own and that town's destruction by sword and flame after four years of most miserable horror and bloody war to the American people. The excitement had spread to the negro population. YoungCaueus, my body servant, came to me his eyes rolling and his red hair more frizzled than usual with excitement, for he was a mulatto with that unusual hair in people of his race, that we call brick -red. This gave him a curious made-up appearance, and added a comedy look to the boy even when he was in a rage. As young Caucus, whose services I had hired from his master, Judge Pe\ton, took charge ot my horse, he seemed choking with some extraordinary idea, which had just come into his black brain, and gasped out to me : ' "Skuse me, Massa Bryant, but what you s'pose Massa Abram Lincoln do now dat South Carlin commit 'cession — reckon Massa Lincoln hab to commit suicide.' This extraordinary idea of the President elect's political duties made but little impression upon me at the moment. I was too much perplexed at my own position, though I have often laughed at it since. I declined to discuss the matter with young Caucus, and passed into my house, where I spent several wakeful hours that night pondering over love, politics, and patriotism. I had been about five years in the South, having been called theie in my profession of civil engineer to assist in laying ouo tho work and building some of the new railroads being constructed^ in. South Carolina and Georgia. I liked the country and its people, and did not wish to leave it — in fact, would not leave it unless I took Laura Peyton to the North with me, as a hostage from the southern people. Yet as I faced the outlook, and thought of having that very day been almost cut in the street by ueople I had considered as intimates, because they doubted my loyalty to the cause of recession, and remembered the speeches made since Lincoln's election, I could not doubt that my next few months would be unpleasant ones in the Palmetto State, and that my course of true love would run o\er one of the rockiest beds that was ever invented for that tumultuous and uncertain stream. Pondering on this problem, I fell asleep, to be aroused nexr morning by the voice of Tom Baxter, who cried to me in a cheery way, • Got your carpet-bag packed ?' ' Me ! —what do you mean ?' ' Well, you'll have to pack it soon. I mean you and I'll have to go North.' Tom was my associate engineer, and occupying the same house with me, ejaculated his .words from the next bedroom, where he was apparently making his morning ablutions. 'You've just arrived from Augusta?' asked I. ' One hour ago. And they're getting ready to do the same job in Georgia that they did in South Carolina yesterday. Tell you more about it at breakfast,' remarked the sententious Tom. Baxter had come from Illinois. Like myself, he saw the storm ahead, though from a different point of view, as he had been for the last few weeks, on the business of the railroad, in Georgia. He was a hard-thin kins fellow, and reasoned upon all subjects, piofessional and otherwise, with the distinctness ot a mathematician and in a very straight line. I was anxious to get his full views upon our situation, and followed him quickly to our breakfast-room. As I entered, Mr Baxter was laughing at some remarks ot young Caucus, who was waiting at the table. ' How you tink, Massa Baxter, de North stan up again dose?' exclaimed the negro, giving an excited wave of his napkin through the open window toward three companies ot South Carolina militia that were marching by with true militia irregularity. ' Dose sogers go up to settle de Black 'Publicans and dey settle dem abolitionists d d soon !' ' Give me some eggs !' said Baxter, choking a laugh. ' Some eggs and coffee for me, also. Caucus, and then tret out,' added I ; 'I wish to talk to Mr Baxter.' ' Yes sah ! of course sail !' muttered the young negro, executing our orders, and then retiring from tho room with martial step and a grin of joy, for the military band outside had suddenly struck up, and Caucus was anxious to follow the mv.sic, ' which he did shortly afterwards, together with half the young negros of Columbia. ' Now,' remarked Baxter, as soon as the sound of Caucus's departing footsteps bad died away, ' you and 1, Lawrence, will have to take a trip north very shortly, pose you are aware of that. South Carolina seceded yesterday. To morrow it will be Georgia and all the cotton States. And you and I know on which side of the line we ought to be when it comes to fighting.' ' I shall remain here, at least for the prosent," I remarked. 'So shall I, but I shall .sell everything I have and be prepared to leave. Take my advice, and do the same. 7 ' Still, I'm comfortable here; have suci ceeded in my profession ; am popular with ; the people about me.' i ' Popular? — How long will you be popu1 lar if you don't take their side in the coming struggle ? Popular? — Doesn't every day show you your popularity is waning ? , Popular? ' Here he stopped short, for Caucus came into the room bringing a pretty little envelope addressed to me in a feminine hand. As I tore open the envelope and devoured its contents, Mr Baxter continued : ''Popular — yes, I see, very popular with some one about here. That's why you're so anxious to stay. Well, if I guess right as to who the lady is, I'd risk a good deal to gain that girl, for she's worth winning. I wish you luck ; but all the same, if you remain in this part of the State, you'll have to fight on this side of the line and I on the other, for I tell you that this movement means war /' ' War ?' • Certainly ! Isn't that ' — here Mr Baxter got up from his chair, walked round to mine, and whispered in my ear — 'armed rebellion to our Government levying ot war apon it right there before our very eyes ?' and he pointedthrough the window, towai'd where a portion of the South Carolina militia were'marching down the main street of Columbia to take the cars for Charleston, to participate a short time afterward in the bombardment of Sumter. 'It's war!' he continued — 'miserable, horrible, bloody civil war ! You've got to take your choice — our side or the other ; and if you remain here, it must be the other.'

'All the same,' I replied, •' I shall stay here until " c Unbil you win her? I wish you luck, my boy ; but she is a southern girl and you a northern man — God help you !' And with this Mr Baxter turned away, walked out of the room and went to his work at the railroad offices. I remained with a very glum face, which becamo more gloomy aa I re- road the letter my fiancee had just written tome, It was as follows : '"The Oaks," ' Columbia, Dopember 21, 1860. ' Dakling.— Please come and sco papu this vory afternoon at the latest. Chrcumstances that I cannot explain by letter mako 1110 ask you, as you lore me, not to delay your interview with my father. To-morrow may bo too late. Don't fail. Your Laura. 1 What new complication did this note herald ? Puzzle my brain as I might, I could not guess. Of only one thing was I sure — that was my sweetheart loved me. So despite the clouds that seemed, to hang over me, I was, in the elasticity of youth, comparatively happy even on that morning. But curiosity, added to love, made me hurry what little railroad business I had on my hands, and early in the afternoon I rode out through the main street of Columbia, which was (illed with people eagerly discussing the biluation, for all business was thrown aside for politics at that time, andafcer passing by the State lunaticabylum and the beautiful plantations of the Hamptons, Presfons and Singletons, soon found myself at the Avenue ot Oaks that led to Judsre Peyton's country seat, called after the beautiful trees that embellished it. Before I reached the house, however, I was met by Miss Belle, who came running down the avenue to meet me, a leghorn hat with ribbon floating from it, after the fashion of the time, in one hand, the other held out to me. In the frank impulsiveness of her nature, she ciied, with the sweot southern accont this young lady possessed, ' Laura has just told me all.' 'All !' I mutteied, astonished at thevsuddenness of her outbursL 'Certainly — all about your wanting to marry her ! You see she had to a girl must confide in someone —no one could keep such a secret — and mother beintr dead, 1 took mamma's place — and I'm so glad you're going to join us — be one of us> — I always said that Mr Bryant was too sjood a man to be one of those awtul Black Republicans — 'deed I did !' This view of my political ideas being changed by my suit for her sis- tor's hand rather amused me. I remarked : ' I have never been a Black Republican — that is, not the kind of a Black Republican you mean.' ' There's only one kind of Black Republican !' returned Miss Belle, sententiously. • What kind is that?' 'A bad abolitionist Black Republican. Oh, how I hate 'em. They would destroy all our social happiness. They would sepaiate us from the servants who love us. Fancy tearing old Mauma Chloe from me whom she loves. I told the poor old creature what the horrid northern wretches wanted to do to her. and cried all lasr night. But you're reformed— I know you are — and— you would like to see Laura, I suppose — she rather expects you ' — this last with a roguish glance. ' She's over there in the gaiden ! Here, Cit'sar ! come and take Mr Bryants horse !' I dismounted, and a black servant leading my nag to the stables, Miss Belle pointed to a white hat seen through the foliage, and cried, ( There she is ! Goodbye till — alterward-s, Mr Reformed Black Republican !' I hardly heard the last of her speech, a& I was rapidly making my way toward my sweetheart, who apparently did not notice my coming. As seated upon a bench in a little grove ot oaks, she held a letter in her hand, though both her eyes ivere expectantly placed upon the road from Columbia. She had in some manner apparently missed me as I rode by, and was still looking for my coming — I thought with a kind of nervous impatience. Amman's vanity is always flattered by the beauty of the woman who loves him ; and in gazing at Laura Peyton I became vejry vain, for.no piettier sight had ever met my eye. Though nearly Christmas, the weather was still mild and warm in this southern latitude, and bhe gii 1 looked like a summer picture, up, with her white hat trimmed with a dainty ribbon or two thrown upon the bench be«ide hei, and dressed in some light goshomer garment crinolined and puffed out about her, as was the fashion of those clays, she leaned forward, all her soul in her eyes, looking the wrong way — tor me. Amomentalterwaid the tableau changed. Her eyeh fell upon the letter— a shiver of disgust appeared to run through her. She sprang to het feob impatiently, in her haste permitting a glimpse of a soufchei n toot and ankle that gave me another lovei'o rapture, and crushed the lettor nervously in ncr hand. Her lips muttered in an excited manner, her eyebrows contracted with a slight frown, and she gave a detei mined stamp with her little foot. Then tinned her head, the fruwn changed to a smile, the shadow on her tace became sunshine, lips murmuied. ' Lawrence !' — she was in my arm.--. After a moment she disengaged herself from my embrace, and, aflecting lichtness, whispered : ' I knew you would come. My note insured that. Curjoeity as well a& love is powerful in man as in woman. ' Why were you so anxious for me to ?ee your father this very day ?' I abked, in reply to this. 'This letter!' she said, glancing at the crumpled paper. 'To-night, or at latest to-morrow, Amos Pierson will ask my father for my hand. This is his notification to me of hi.s intention.' ' Amos Pierson !' I ga&ped — ' the millionaire cotton merchant of Savannah ?' ' Certainly,' she replied. 'He entertained my father and myself last year when we visited Georgia. I think — 1 fear — he has some business or financial hold upon my father !' ' You surely do not believe Judge Peyton would coerce you— in such a matter as this V 'Certainly not! But Amos Pierson, 1 can see from his Jotter, expects in the arrogance of his wealth to win me. Disappointment will make him our enemy, and at this moment we need so manyfriends. Laurence, I know hi? character — beivara of Amob Pi&rtion !'