CHAPTER TWENTY-THIRD.
"What fates impose, that men must needs abide. It boots not to resist both wind and tide." --SHAKESPEARE'S HENRY VI.
From the time of Mr. Lincoln's election Walter Dinsmore's home had beenmade very uncomfortable to him; after the fall of Sumter it was well-nighunendurable.
Never were two brothers more entirely unlike than he and Arthur; thelatter, selfish, proud, haughty, self-willed, passionate, and reckless ofconsequences to himself or others; the former sweet-tempered, amiable, andaffectionate, but lacking in firmness and self-reliance.
Poor fellow! his heart was divided; on the one side were home, parents,friends, and neighbors, native State and section; on the other, pride inthe great, powerful Union he had hitherto called his country, love for theold flag as the emblem of its greatness and symbol of Revolutionary glory;and--perhaps more potent than all--the wishes and entreaties of a Northerngirl who had won his heart and promised him her hand.
One April morning Walter, who had overslept himself, having been up latethe night before, was roused from his slumbers by a loud hurrah comingfrom the veranda below. He recognized his father's voice, Arthur's, andthat of one of the latter's particular friends, a hot secessionistresiding in the adjacent city.
There seemed a great tumult in the house, running to and fro, loudlaughter, repeated hurrahs and voices--among which his mother's and Enna'swere easily distinguished--talking in high, excited chorus.
"So Fort Sumter has fallen, and war is fairly inaugurated," he sighed tohimself, as he rose and began to dress. "It can mean nothing else."
"Glorious news, Wal!" cried Arthur, catching sight of him as he descendedthe stairs; "Fort Sumter has fallen and Charleston is jubilant. Here,listen while I read the despatch."
Walter heard it in grave silence, and at the close merely inquired how thenews had come so early.
"Johnson brought it; has gone on now to Ashlands with it; says the city'sin a perfect furor of delight But you, it seems, care nothing about it,"Arthur concluded with a malignant sneer.
"Not a word of rejoicing over this glorious victory"--cried Enna angrily.
"Of seven _thousand_ over seventy-five?"
"If I were papa, I'd turn you out of the house;" she exclaimed still morehotly.
"Walter, I have no patience with you," said his father. "To think that sonof mine should turn against his own country!" he added, with a groan.
"No, father, I could never do that," Walter answered with emotion.
"It looks very much like it--the utter indifference with which you receivethis glorious news!" cried Mrs. Dinsmore with flashing eyes. "I'mpositively ashamed of you."
"No, mother, not with indifference, far from it; for it inaugurates a warthat will drench the land with blood."
"Nonsense! the North will never fight. A race of shop-keepers fighting fora sentiment, poh! But come to breakfast, there's the bell."
"Better," says Solomon, "is a dinner of herbs where love is, than astalled ox and hatred therewith." The luxurious breakfast at Roselands waspartaken of with very little enjoyment that morning; by Walter especially,who had to bear contempt and ridicule; threats also: he was called aYankee, coward, poltroon, traitor; and threatened with disinheritance anddenouncement unless he would declare himself for the Confederacy andenlist in its army.
The meal was but half over when he rose with flashing eyes, pale face, andquivering lips. "I am neither a traitor nor a coward," he said between hisclenched teeth, "as perhaps time may prove to the sorrow of a father andmother, sister and brother, who can so use one who ill deserves suchtreatment at their hands." And turning, he stalked proudly from the room.
Enna was beginning a sneering remark, but her father stopped her.
"Hush! we have been too hard on the lad; he was always slower than Artabout making up his mind, and I've no doubt will turn out all right in theend."
Soon after breakfast the father and mother had a private talk on thesubject, and agreed to try coaxing and entreaties.
"Wal always had a warm heart," remarked Mr. Dinsmore finally, "and I daresay can be reached more readily through that."
"Yes, he was your favorite always, while you have been very hard upon poorArthur's youthful follies; but you see now which is the more worthy of thetwo."
Mr. Dinsmore shook his head. "Not yet, wife; 'tisn't always the braggartthat turns out bravest in time of trial."
"Yes, we shall see," she answered, with a slight toss of her haughty head."I trust no son of _mine_ will prove himself so cowardly as to run awayfrom his country in her time of need, on whatever pretext."
And having winged this shaft, perceiving with pleasure that her husbandwinced slightly under it, she sailed from the room, ascending thestairway, and presently paused before the door of Walter's dressing-room.It was slightly ajar; and pushing it gently open she entered withoutknocking.
He stood leaning against the mantel, his tall erect figure, the perfectionof manly grace, his eyes fixed thoughtfully upon the carpet, and his fine,open, expressive countenance full of a noble sadness.
There was something of motherly pride in the glance that met his as helooked up at the sound of Mrs. Dinsmore's step. Starting forward, hegallantly handed her to a seat: then stood respectfully waiting for whatshe had to say.
"Walter, my dear boy," she began; "your father and I think we were all atrifle hard on you this morning."
He colored slightly but made no remark, and she went on. "Of course wecan't believe it possible that a son of ours will ever show himself acoward; but it is very trying to us, very mortifying, to have you holdingback in this way till all our neighbors and friends begin to hint that youare disloyal to your native State, and look scornful and contemptuous atthe very mention of your name."
Walter took a turn or two across the room, and coming back to her side,"Mother," said he, "you know it is my nature to be slow in deciding anymatter of importance, and this is the weightiest one that ever I had toconsider. Men much older and wiser than I are finding it a knotty questionto which their loyalty is due, State or General Government; whereallegiance to the one ends, and fealty to the other begins."
"There is no question in my mind," she interrupted, angrily. "Of courseyour allegiance is due to your State; so don't let me hear any more aboutthat. Your father and brother never hesitated for a moment; and it wouldbecome you to be more ready to be guided by them."
"Mother," he said, with a pained look, "you forget that I am no longer aboy; and you would be the first to despise a man who could not form anopinion of his own. All I ask is time to decide this questionand--another."
"Pray what may that be? whether you will break with Miss Aller, Ipresume," she retorted, sneeringly.
"No, mother," he answered with dignity; "there is no question in my mindin regard to that. Mary and I are pledged to each other, and nothing butdeath can part us."
"And" (fiercely) "you would marry her, though she is ready to cheer on themen who are coming to invade our homes and involve us in the horrors of aservile insurrection!"
"I think it is hardly an hour since I heard you say the North would notfight; and since we have shown our determination in capturing Sumter, thenext news would be that we were to be allowed to go in peace. You may beright; I hope you are; but the fellows I know in the North are as full ofpluck as ourselves, and I fear there is a long, fierce, bloody strugglebefore us." He stood before her with folded arms and grave, earnest face,his eyes meeting hers unflinchingly. "And ere I rush into it I want toknow that I am ready for death and for judgment."
"No need to hesitate on that account," she said, with a contemptuoussmile; "you've always been a remarkably upright young man, and I'm sureare safe enough. Besides, I haven't a doubt that those who die in defenseof their country go straight to heaven."
He shook his head. "I have been studying the Bible a good deal of late,and I know that that would never save my soul."
"This is some of Horace's an
d Elsie's work; I wish they would attend totheir own affairs and let you and others alone." And she rose and sweptangrily from the room.
Walter did not appear at dinner, nor was he seen again for several days;but as such absences were not infrequent--he having undertaken a sort ofgeneral oversight of both the Oaks and Ion--this excited no alarm.
The first day in fact was spent at Ion; the next he rode over to the Oaks.Mrs. Murray always made him very comfortable, and was delighted to havethe opportunity; for the place was lonely for her in the absence of thefamily. She was on the veranda as he rode up that morning attended by hisservant.
"Ah, Mr. Walter," she cried, "but I'm glad to see you! You're a sight forsair een, sir. I hope ye've come to stay a bit."
He had given the reins to his servant and dismounted. "Yes," he said,shaking hands with her, "for two or three days, Mrs. Murray."
"That's gude news, sir. Will ye come in and take a bite or sup o'something?"
"Thank you, not now. I'll just sit here for a moment. The air isdelightful this morning."
"So it is, sir. And do ye bring ony news frae our friends in Naples?"
"No; I have heard nothing since I saw you last."
"But what's this, Mr. Walter, that I hear the servants saying aboot afight wi' the United States troops?"
"Fort Sumter has fallen, Mrs. Murray. There's an account of the wholeaffair," he added, taking a newspaper from his pocket and handing it toher.
She received it eagerly, and with a hearty thanks.
"I am going out into the grounds," he said, and walked away, leaving herto its perusal.
He strolled down a green alley, inspected it, the lawns, the avenue, theflower and vegetable gardens, to see that all were in order; held a fewminutes' conversation with the head gardener, making some suggestions andbestowing deserved praise of his faithful performance of his duties; thenwandering on, at length seated himself in Elsie's bower, and took from hisbreast-pocket--where he had constantly carried it of late--a smallmorocco-bound, gilt-edged volume.
He sat there a long time, reading and pondering with grave, anxious face,it may be asking for heavenly guidance too, for his eyes were now and thenuplifted and his lips moved.
The next day and the next he spent at the Oaks, passing most of his timein solitude, either in the least frequented parts of the grounds, or thelonely and deserted rooms of the mansion.
Walter had always been a favorite with Mrs. Murray. She had a sort ofmotherly affection for him, and watching him furtively, felt sure that hehad some heavy mental trouble. She waited and watched silently, hopingthat he would confide in her and let her sympathize, if she could donothing more.
On the evening of the third day he came in from the grounds with abrightened countenance, his little book in his hand. She was on theveranda looking out for him to ask if he was ready for his tea. He met herwith a smile.
"Is it gude news, Mr. Walter?" she asked, thinking of the distracted stateof the country.
"Yes, Mrs. Murray, I think you will call it so. I have been searchinghere," and he held up the little volume, "for the pearl of great price;and I have found it."
"Dear bairn, I thank God for ye!" she exclaimed with emotion. "It's gudenews indeed!"
"I cannot think how I've been so blind," he went on in earnest tones; "itseems now so simple and easy--just to believe in Jesus Christ, receive Hisoffered pardon, His righteousness put upon me, the cleansing of His bloodshed for the remission of sins, and trust my all to Him for time andeternity. Now I am ready to meet death on the battle-field, if so it mustbe."
"But, O Mr. Walter, I hope you'll be spared that, and live to be a goodsoldier of Christ these many years."
They were startled by the furious galloping of a horse coming up thedrive; and the next moment Arthur drew rein before the door.
"Walter; so you're here, as I thought! I've come for you. Lincoln hascalled for seventy-five thousand troops to defend the capital; but we allknow what that means--an invasion of the South. The North's a unit now,and so is the South. Davis has called for volunteers, and the war-cry isresounding all over the land. We're raising a company: I'm appointedcaptain, and you lieutenant. Come; if you hesitate now--you'll repent it:father says he'll disown you forever."
Arthur's utterance was fierce and rapid, but now he was compelled to pausefor a breath, and Walter answered with excitement in his tones also.
"Of course if it has come to that, I will not hesitate to defend my nativesoil, my home, my parents."
"All right; come on then; we leave to-night."
Walter's horse was ordered at once, and in a few moments the brothers weregalloping away side by side. Mrs. Murray looked after them with a sigh.
"Ah me! the poor laddies! will they die on the battle field? Ah, wae's me,but war's an awfu' thing!"
At Roselands all was bustle and excitement, every one eager, as it seemed,to hasten the departure of the young men.
But when everything was ready and the final adieus must be spoken, themother embraced them with tears and sobs, and even Enna's voice falteredand her eyes grew moist.
Mounting, they rode rapidly down the avenue, each followed by his ownservant--and out at the great gate. Walter wheeled his horse. "One lastlook at the old home, Art," he said; "we may never see it again."
"Always sentimental, Wal," laughed Arthur, somewhat scornfully; "but haveyour way." And he, too, wheeled about for a last farewell look.
The moon had just risen, and by her silvery light the lordly mansion--withits clustering vines, the gardens, the lawn, the shrubbery, and the grandold trees--was distinctly visible. Never had the place looked more lovely.The evening breeze brought to their nostrils the delicious scent of rosesin full bloom, and a nightingale poured forth a song of ravishingsweetness from a thicket hard by.
Somehow her song seemed to go to Walter's very heart and a sad forebodingoppressed him as they gazed and listened for several moments, then turnedtheir horses' heads and galloped down the road.