A DECIDED DIFFERENCE OF OPINION
If Homer Passford was not a rich man in the sense that his brother was,
he was still a wealthy man, and lived in a style as elegant as that of
any nabob in the South. More than this, and of vastly more consequence,
he was a good and true man. He was a member of his church, and his
brother believed that he was a genuine and true religious man. The same
principles of justice, humanity, and fairness had been born into both of
the brothers, and inherited from the same father.
This was the brother whom he from the North was about to visit on the
most solemn and momentous questions which could unite or separate the
only two sons of the same father. Though Horatio had reasoned himself
into the belief that Homer was as strongly a Union man as he was
himself, he had argued without any adequate premises; and now, when he
was almost on the threshold of his door, he did not feel sure of the
position of his brother, though his hope was very strong.
It was with no little trepidation on this account that he rang the bell
at the front door of Glenfield. A few minutes or an hour or two would
settle the momentous question, and decide whether or not all the family,
as well as Florry, would take passage in the Bellevite for a more
Northern clime.
"De Lo'd!" exclaimed the venerable colored man that came to the door.
"De hull family done be wery glad to see you, Massa 'Ratio."
"I hope you are very well, Pedro," replied Captain Passford, as he gave
his hand to the old servant. "Here is Christy."
"De Lo'd bless Massa Christy!" And he shook hands with the son as he had
with the father.
"Is your master at home, Pedro?" asked the visitor, in haste to see his
brother.
"Yes, sar; all de folks to home; jes' gwine to lunch. I spects dey all
wery glad to see Massa 'Ratio and Massa Christy. Walk in, sar; took a
seat in de parlor; and I done reckon we call Massa Homer and de rest ob
de folks afore you gits to sleep in yer char, thar," said Pedro, as he
scurried out of the room where he had shown the visitors.
It was Florry who caught the first sound of the visitors who had
arrived, and she rushed into the drawing-room before the others could be
called from up-stairs. She bounded into the room like a fawn, with her
eyes swimming with tears, and threw herself into her father's arms. She
could not speak a word, and the captain was as dumb as she was.
For a moment she remained folded in his arms, and then she gently
disengaged herself, to render the same wealth of affection in its
manifestation to her brother, who was standing by her father when she
darted into the room. But Christy was a boy, and not as demonstrative as
his father, though he discharged the duties of the affecting occasion
with becoming fidelity, so that the loving girl was sure that his heart
was where it had always been.
"Why, papa, I had no idea of seeing you to-day!" exclaimed Florry, when
she had wiped away her abundant tears. "I did not know that I should
ever see you again, for they say that all the roads to the North have
been closed to travel."
"We did not come by land, either by railroad or otherwise; and the
Bellevite lies at the wharf near this house," the captain explained.
"I was terribly afraid I should never see you again, and that I should
have to stay here till this war is ended, papa; but they say it will
soon be over," said the fair girl.
"I am afraid it will not be over for a long time, for each side is
firmly united in its own cause. But I could not leave you here. Do you
want to go back to Bonnydale, Florry?"
"Do I want to go back? What a funny question, papa!" exclaimed she.
"Why is it a funny question?" asked the anxious father, recalling the
rather presumptuous suggestion the gallant major from Fort Gaines had
made.
"Don't you think I want to see mamma? You have not told me a word about
her; and it is a long time now since I have heard any thing. I do want
to go home, and especially I want to see mamma."
"Then you shall see her."
"Is she here, papa?" exclaimed Florry, leaping out of the chair in which
she had seated herself.
"She is not here, my child. She is at home, but it will not take many
days to bear you to her," replied the devoted father, embracing her
again, while she kissed him over and over again.
"Can I see her before the war is over, papa?" she asked.
"Certainly you can, if no accident interferes with my plans. You really
want to go home?"
"To be sure I do. How cruel it is of you to ask me such a question!"
"Then I won't ask it again. But perhaps you will not be able to come to
Glenfield again for years," added Captain Passford, looking earnestly
into her face.
"What makes you look at me so, papa? What have I done? You look just as
you did when I was little and pulled the kitten's tail."
"It is a long time since I have seen you, Florry and I want to look at
you all I can."
[Illustration: "She was Clasped in her Father's Arms" (Page 148)]
"Then you may look at me as much as you wish; and I shall be thankful it
is not that Major Pierson who comes here, for he has stared me out of
countenance every time he came," replied she, blushing a little.
"Then you don't like him, do you?" asked her father, with more interest
than he cared to display.
"I like him well enough, but I wish he would not stare at me all the
time. He seems to think I am good for nothing but to look at," replied
Florry smartly.
But the entrance of Mr. and Mrs. Passford turned aside the inquiries
the captain was making before he had satisfied himself, though he had
obtained enough to afford him some hope. The greeting extended to the
brother and nephew was all that could be expected or desired; and if
the country had not been riven into two bitterly hostile sections, the
interview could not have been more brotherly and affectionate. A full
hour was used in talking about the trip of the Bellevite, so anxious
were the family, including Florry, to hear the particulars of the
voyage.
"But how in the world did you get here, Horatio, when every public
conveyance that leads into the South has been discontinued?" asked
Homer.
"I came as I came before," replied Horatio.
"You came in the Bellevite!" exclaimed Homer.
"I did."
"But how did you get by the forts? Both of them have been garrisoned,
and they have been ordered to allow no vessel to pass unless she give
a good account of herself," continued the planter.
"In other words, it is war now," added Horatio.
"Undoubtedly it is war; and, in my judgment, it will be a terrible
conflict before it is finished."
"I fully agree with you, Homer."
"But you did not tell me in what manner you passed the two forts, which
are already strong enough to blow your steamer into a thousand pieces,"
suggested Homer.
"I did not tell you, and I think we had better understand each other a
little better before I say any thing at all about the passage of the
forts; though I can assure you that not a single shot was fired at the
Bellevite," said Horatio, somewhat embarrassed by the situation.
"De lunch am ready, saw," said a darky at the door at this moment; and
perhaps the summons saved the owner of the Bellevite from some further
annoyance.
An hour was spent at the table, for there was enough to talk about
without meddling with delicate subjects. When the repast was over,
Florry invited her brother to look at the flower-garden, which was
in the height of its glory, and she was followed by Gerty her cousin,
and by Mrs. Passford. As in the Northern family, there were only two
children; but Cornelius, or Corny as he was generally called, was not
at home, though nothing at all was said about him.
Horatio was invited into the library by his brother, and they seated
themselves for a long talk. The owner of the Bellevite was confident
that he should soon know on which side the planter belonged, though he
was still confident in his former views.
"I suppose there is no other way for you to get here at the present
time except in your yacht, and not many men can command so elegant
and substantial a vessel as the Bellevite," said Homer, when they were
seated. "But what in the world do you expect to do with her down here?"
"I intend to return to my home in her, and to take my daughter back to
her mother," replied Horatio, as unmoved as though he had uttered a
commonplace expression.
"Take Florry back to her mother!" exclaimed Homer, springing out of his
armchair as though his five-and-forty years counted for nothing. "I hope
that nothing at all is the matter with your brain, Horatio."
"Nothing at all, so far as I am aware, Homer. You seem to think it is a
great undertaking to take my daughter home," added Horatio.
"But it is war in this country, and all along the coast. You will
certainly be captured, and your daughter sent to a prison, at least till
she can be sent home. You have not more than one chance in ten to get to
New York."
"Do you think so?" asked Horatio, smiling.
"If you don't know it, I do, my dear brother, that the Southern
Confederacy has sent out agents to buy up all the suitable vessels they
can find, to do duty as cruisers and privateers. You are almost sure to
be captured, and think what Florry would suffer in such an event."
"You seem to think that the North is going to hold still, and let you do
all this, Homer," added the owner of the Bellevite.
"I don't see how the North can help itself."
"My information is rather meagre; but I am informed that the Government
of the United States has proclaimed the blockade, and even that it is
enforced farther north, as I am sure it will be on the south."
"That is all nonsense, Horatio, and you know it."
"I don't understand it so."
"How is it possible for the Yankee Government to station ships-of-war on
the coast of the Southern States? It is simply impossible," said Homer,
warming up with the argument. "The business of fitting out vessels is
already begun, I read in the newspapers; and it will be pushed to the
utmost."
"I am confident that every Confederate port in the United States will be
invested by one or more vessels within a reasonable time."
"But your steamer will be captured before you can get home, even if you
get out of Mobile Bay."
"I don't apprehend any difficulty on that account. If the Bellevite
can't keep out of the way of any thing that floats, she deserves to be
captured. She will belong to the Government within a few weeks," added
Horatio quietly.
"The Bellevite!" exclaimed Homer.
"The Bellevite, certainly. I should be ashamed to retain her a month
after I knew that the Union needs her, and the Union shall have her as a
free gift," added Horatio, quite as warmly as his brother had spoken.
"You will give your steamer to the Yankee Government!" gasped Homer,
rising from his chair again, and darting across the room, as though he
was both shocked and disgusted at the conduct of Horatio. "You will
allow her to be used in subduing a free people? I am sorry."
Homer was very deeply grieved, and Horatio hardly less so.