"Yes, they are both here and will rejoice if they can be of any comfort

or service to you. Ah, I hear papa's voice in the hall, asking for me!"

and stepping to the door, she called to him and her husband, "Please

come in here," she said, "Mrs. Carrington wishes to see you both."

"You here and alone at this late hour, my dear madam!" Mr. Dinsmore

exclaimed, taking the old lady's hand in a cordial grasp, "your courage

surprises me."

"Ah, my good friend, they who have little to lose, need not have much to

do with fear," she answered. "That was what I told Sophie who would have

had me defer my call till to-morrow."

"My dear madam, you are surely right in thinking that no one would

molest you--a lady whom all classes unite in loving and honoring," Mr.

Travilla said, greeting her with almost filial respect and affection.

She bowed in acknowledgment. "Do not think for a moment that I have come

to upbraid you, gentlemen. Justice demands that those who break the laws

suffer the penalty, and I have nothing to say against it; though the

criminal be my own flesh and blood. But I want to hear all about this

sad affair."

They told her briefly all they knew, she listening with calm though sad

demeanor.

"Thank you," she said when they had finished. "That George is guilty, I

dare hardly doubt, and I am far from upholding him in his wickedness. As

you all know, I was strong for accession, and am no Republican now, but

I say perish the cause that can be upheld only by such measures as

these. I would have every member of this wicked, dreadful conspiracy

brought to punishment; they are ruining their country; but their deeds

are not chargeable upon the secessionists of the war time, as a class."

"That is certainly true, madam."

"We are fully convinced of that, Mrs. Carrington," the gentlemen

replied.

She rose to take leave. Mr. Travilla requested her to delay a little

till his horse could be brought to the door, and he would see her home.

"No, no, Travilla," said Mr. Dinsmore, "Horace and I will do that, if

Mrs. Carrington will accept our escort."

"Many thanks to you both, gentlemen," she said, "but I assure you I am

not in the least afraid; and it would be putting you to unnecessary

trouble."

"On the contrary, my dear madam, it would be a pleasure; and as our

horses are already at the door, we need not delay you a moment," said

Mr. Dinsmore. "It will not take us so very far out of our way, either:

and I should like to have a word with Sophie."

Upon that Mrs. Carrington gratefully accepted his offer, and the three

went away together.

Convinced of his guilt, Mrs. Carrington made no effort to obtain the

release of her nephew, but several of his confederates having perjured

themselves to prove an alibi in his favor, he was soon at large again.

He showed his face no more at the Oaks or Ion, and upon occasion of an

accidental meeting with Travilla or either of the Dinsmores, regarded

him with dark, scowling looks, sometimes adding a muttered word or two

of anger and defiance.

In the meantime damages had been repaired in the quarters at Fairview

and Ion, and the men at the latter, secretly supplied with arms; also

the rebuilding of the school-house was going rapidly forward.

A threatening notice was presently served upon Mr. Travilla, ordering

him to desist from the attempt, as the teaching of the blacks would not

be allowed by the Ku Klux.

He however paid no attention to the insolent demand, and the work went

on as before.

Mr. Leland had succeeded in keeping the affair of the coffin from his

wife thus saving her much anxiety and distress.

To leave just at this time would be a great pecuniary loss, and he

had decided to remain; but had laid his plans carefully for either

resistance or escape in case of an attack.

A couple of large, powerful, and very fine watch dogs were added to his

establishment, and a brace of loaded pistols and a bowie knife were

always within reach of his hand.

One night the family were aroused by the furious barking of the dogs.

Instantly Mr. Leland was out upon the floor hastily throwing on his

clothes, while his wife, with the frightened cry. "The Ku Klux!" ran to

the window.

"Yes it is! they are surrounding the house! O Robert, fly for your

life!" she cried in the wildest terror. "O God save my poor husband from

these cruel foes!" she added, dropping upon her knees and lifting hands

and eyes to heaven.

"He will, Mary, never fear, wife," Mr. Leland said almost cheerfully,

snatching up his weapons as he spoke. "Pray on, it's the best thing you

can do to help me."

"You must fly!" she said, "you can't fight twenty men and I think there

are at least that many."

"I'll slip out at the back door then, and make for the woods," he

answered, rushing from the room.

Children and servants were screaming with affright, the ruffians

thundering at the front door, calling loudly upon Mr. Leland to come

out, and threatening to break it down if he did not immediately appear.

Summoning all her courage, the wife went again to the window and called

to them, asking what was wanted.

"Leland. Tell him to come out here at once or it will be the worse for

him," returned the leader, in a feigned, unnatural voice.

"He is not here," she said.

"He'd better show himself at once," returned the ruffian, "he'll not

escape by refusing to do so; we'll search every corner till we find

him."

"That will be as God pleases," she said in a calm, firm tone, her

courage rising with the emergency.

She was answered with a yell of rage, and a repeated order to come down

and open the door.

"I shall do no such thing," she said; "and what is more, I shall shoot

down the first man that sets foot on the stairs."

It was a sudden resolution that had come to her. Encouraged by Mrs.

Travilla's precept and example, she had been, for months past,

industriously training herself in the use of firearms, and kept her

loaded revolver at hand; and now she would create a diversion in her

husband's favor, keeping the raiders at bay at the front of the building

while he escaped at the back; they believed him to be in the upper

story: if she could prevent it, they should not learn their mistake,

till he had had time to gain the woods and distance pursuit.

The door could not much longer withstand the heavy blows dealt it;

already there were sounds as if it were about to give way.

"Archie," she said, turning to her son and speaking very rapidly, "those

men are here to kill your father; you must help me to prevent them from

coming up to hunt him. The rest of you children stop that loud crying,

which won't do any good. Kneel down and pray, pray, _pray_ to God to

help your father to get away from them. Archie, throw this black cloak

round you. Here are two loaded pistols. I will take one, you the other;

we will station ourselves on the landing at the head of the first flight

of stairs. It is darker in the house than out of doors, and they will

not be able to see us, but as the door falls and they rush in we can see

them in their white gowns, and against the light. Come!"

They hurried to the landing.

"Now we must not be in too great haste," she whispered in his ear; "keep

cool, take sure aim, and fire low."

The words had scarcely left her lips when the door fell with a crash,

and with a yell like an Indian war whoop several disguised men rushed

into the hall and hastily advanced toward the stairway; but the instant

the foremost set foot upon it, two shots were fired from above,

evidently not without effect; for with an oath he staggered back and

fell into the arms of his comrades.

He was borne away by two of them, while the others returned the fire at

random, for they could not see their adversaries.

The balls whistled past Mrs. Leland and her son, but they stood their

ground bravely, and as two of their assailants attempted to ascend the

stairs; fired again and again driving them back for a moment.

At the same time sounds of conflict came from the rear of the

dwelling,--an exchange of shots, whoops and yells, the hurried tramp of

many feet, and the yelping, barking and howling of the dogs--and

instantly the hall was cleared, every man there hastening to join in

this new struggle, apparently satisfied that their intended victim was

endeavoring to make his escape in that direction.

Seeing this, Mrs. Leland and her son ran to a window overlooking the new

scene of contest, their hearts beating between hope and fear.

Mr. Leland had slipped cautiously out of the back door, and, revolver in

hand, stepped into the yard, but only to find himself surrounded by his

foes.

They attempted to seize him, but eluding their grasp, he fired right and

left, several shots in succession, the others returning his fire, and

following in hot pursuit.

There was no moon that night, and the darkness and a simple suit of

black, were favorable to Leland, for while the long white gowns of the

Ku Klux not only trammelled their movements, but rendered each an easy

target for his shot, they could take but uncertain aim at him, and on

gaining the woods, he was soon lost to their view in the deepened gloom

of its recesses.

But the balls had been falling about him like hailstones, and as the

sounds of pursuit grew fainter, he found himself bleeding profusely from

a wound in the leg. He dropped behind a fallen tree, and partially

stanched the wound with some leaves which he bound on with a

handkerchief, fortunately left in his coat pocket on retiring that

night.

This was scarcely accomplished, when sounds of approaching footsteps and

voices told him the danger was not yet over.

He crouched close in his hiding place, and hardly dared breathe as they

passed and repassed, some almost stepping on him. But he remained

undiscovered, and at length they abandoned the search, and returning to

the vicinity of the house, gathered up their wounded and went away.

Yet Leland felt that it was not safe for him to venture back to his

home, as they might return at any moment; but to remain where he was

with his wound undressed was almost certain death.

He resolved to accept Mr. Travilla's offered hospitality, if his

strength would carry him so far, and was rising to make the attempt,

when the cracking of a dead branch told him that some living thing was

near, and he fell back again, listening intently for the coming

footsteps.

"Robert! Robert!" called a low tremulous voice.

"O Mary, is it you?" he responded, in low but joyous accents, and the

next moment his wife's arms were about his neck, her tears warm upon his

cheek, while Archie stood sobbing beside them.

"Thank God, thank God that you are alive!" she said, "But are you

unhurt?"

"No, I am bleeding fast from a wound in my leg," Leland answered

faintly.

"I've brought lint and bandages," she said, "let me bind it up as well

as I can in the dark."

"Daren't we strike a light?" asked Archie.

"No, my son, it might bring them on us again, and we must speak low

too."

"Yes, father; but oh what will you do? you can't come back home again?"

"No; I must go to Ion at once, while I can do so under cover of the

darkness. Travilla has offered to hide me there. Archie, my brave boy,

I can trust you with this secret."

"Father, they shall kill me before I'll tell it."

"I trust you will not be tried so far," Leland said with emotion. "I

would not save my life at the sacrifice of yours. I leave your mother in

your care, my boy; be dutiful and affectionate to her, and kind to your

little brother and sisters. Mary, dear, you and Archie will have to

manage the plantation in my absence," and he went on to give some

directions.

"I will do my best," she said tearfully, "and as we have been for

months past frequent visitors at Ion, I can surely go to see you there

occasionally without exciting suspicion."

"Yes, I think so."

"Father," said Archie, "you can never walk to Ion; let me bring my pony

and help you to mount him; then I will lead him to Ion and bring him

back again."

"That is a bright thought; we will do so, if you can saddle him in the

dark and bring him here very quietly."

"I'll try, father," and the boy hastened away in the direction of the

stables.

He returned sooner than they dared hope, with the pony saddled and

bridled. Husband and wife bade a mournful adieu. Mr. Leland mounted with

his son's assistance, and silently they threaded their way through the

woods to Ion.

"Hoo! hoo! hoo!" the cry came in loud and clear through the open windows

of the bedroom of the master and mistress of Ion, and startled them both

from their slumbers.

"Hoo, hoo! hoo!" it came again, and with a light laugh, Elsie said, "Ah

it is only an owl; but to my sleeping ear it seemed like a human cry of

distress. But Edward--"

He had sprung from the bed and was hurrying on his clothes. "I doubt if

it is not, little wife," he said. "It is the signal of distress Leland

and I had agreed upon, and he may be in sore need of aid."

"Let me go with you!" she cried tremulously, hastening to don

dressing-gown and slippers. "Shall I strike a light?"

"No, not till we go down below where the shutters are closed. There is

no knowing what foe may be lurking near."

Seizing his revolvers, he left the room as he spoke, she following close

behind, a pistol in one hand, a lamp and match-box in the other.

Silently they groped their way over the stairs, through the halls and

corridors, till they reached a side door, which Mr. Travilla cautiously

unbarred.

"Who is there?" he asked scarcely above his breath.

"I, sir," and Mr. Leland stepped in and fell fainting to the floor.

Elsie had set her lamp upon a table, and laid her pistol beside it, and

while her husband carefully secured the door again, she struck a light

and brought it near.

Together they stooped over the prostrate form.

"He is not dead?" she asked with a shudder.

"No, no: only a faint; but, see, he is wounded! Your keys, wife!"

"Here," she said, taking them from her pocket, where, with rare presence

of mind, she had thrust them ere leaving her room.

They hastened to apply restoratives, and bind up the wound more

thoroughly than Mrs. Leland had been able to do it.

Restored to consciousness, Leland gave a brief account of the affair,

refreshed himself with food and drink set before him by Elsie's fair

hands, and then was conducted by Mr. Travilla to an upper room in a wing

of the building, dating back to the old days of Indian warfare. It was

distant from the apartments in use by the family, and had a large closet

entered by a concealed door in the wainscoting.

"Here I think you will be safe," remarked his host. "No one but my wife

and myself yet knows of your coming, and it shall be kept secret from

all but Aunt Chloe and Uncle Joe, two tried and faithful servants.

Except Dr. Barton; he is safe and will be needed to extract the ball."

"Yes; and my wife and boy and the Dinsmores," added Leland with a faint

smile. "Travilla, my good friend, I can never thank you enough for this

kindness."

"Tut, man! 'tis nothing! are we not told to lay down our lives for the

brethren? Let me help you to bed; I fear that leg will keep you there

for some days."

"I fear so indeed, but am sincerely thankful to have gotten off so

well," replied Leland, accepting the offered assistance.

"A most comfortable, nay luxurious prison cell," he remarked cheerily,

glancing about upon the elegant and tasteful furniture, "truly the lines

have fallen to me in pleasant places."

Mr. Travilla smiled. "We will do what we can to make amends for the loss

of liberty. It can not be far from daybreak now: I will remove the

light, throw open the shutters and leave you to rest. You must of course

be anxious about your family. I will ride over to Fairview and bring you

news of them within the hour."

Chapter Fifteenth.

"It gives me wonder, great is my content,

To see you here before me."

--SHAKESPEARE'S OTHELLO.

"Sir, you are very welcome to our house."

--SHAKESPEARE

Day had fully dawned when Mr. Travilla re-entered his sleeping apartment

to find Elsie in bed again, but lying there with wide open eyes.

"How very quietly you came in; careful not to disturb me I suppose, my

good, kind husband," she said greeting him with a loving look and smile,

as he drew near her couch.

"Yes," he answered, bending over her and fondly stroking her hair. "I

hoped you were taking another nap."

"No, I feel as if I should never be sleepy again. I'm thinking of poor

Mrs. Leland. How troubled, anxious and distressed she must feel."

"Yes; I shall ride over there directly."

"And take me with you?"

"Gladly, if you like to go. You will do her more good than I."

"I doubt it; but perhaps both together may be better than either one

alone. Didn't she act bravely?"

"Yes; she's a noble woman."

They spent some moments in consulting together how to make their guest

comfortable and at the same time effectually conceal his presence in the

house.

They rejoiced in the fact that no one but themselves--his own son

excepted--had been cognizant of his arrival, and Elsie agreed with her

husband that it should be kept secret from the children; servants also

save Aunt Chloe and Uncle Joe, whose services would be needed, and who

could be trusted not to divulge the matter.

"Mammy will manage about his meals, I know," said Elsie, "and Dr.

Barton's visits may be supposed to be paid to Violet. The darling! how

glad and thankful I am that she seems to be losing her inclination to

sleep-walking."

"And I," said her husband; "thankful to God for his blessing on the

means used, and to Barton, who is certainly an excellent physician."

Their talk ended, husband and wife separated to their different

dressing-rooms.

Elsie rang for her maid and Aunt Chloe appeared in answer to the

summons.

Aunt Chloe was no longer young, or even elderly, but had attained to a

healthy and vigorous old age and still so delighted in her old pleasant

task of busying herself about the person of her young mistress, that

she would only occasionally resign it to other hands. She was a

household dignitary, head tire-woman, and head nurse, and much looked

up to by the younger servants.

She came in quietly and dropping a courtesy said, "Good mornin', Miss

Elsie, I hope you's well, honey, but you's up so mighty early."

"Ah, mammy, I'm glad it is you, for I have something to tell you. Yes,

I'm quite well, thank you," Elsie answered, then while making a rapid

toilet, went on to relate the occurrences of the last few hours, winding

up by putting the wounded guest in charge of Aunt Chloe and her husband.

The faithful old creature accepted the trust with evident pride in the

confidence reposed in her.

"Dis chile an' Uncle Joe'll take care of him, honey, neber fear," she

said, carefully adjusting the folds of her mistress's riding habit.

"I'll nuss him to de best ob my disability, an' de good Lord'll soon

make um well, I hope."

"And you and Uncle Joe will be careful not to let any of the other

servants know that he's here?"

"Dat we will, darlin', for shuah."

The sun was just peeping above the horizon, as Mr. and Mrs. Travilla

drew rein before the main entrance to the Fairview mansion.

Mrs. Leland came out to welcome them. She was looking pale and worn,

yet met them with a smile, and words of grateful appreciation of all

their kindness, then, with the quick tears springing to her eyes, asked

anxiously after her husband's welfare.

"I think he is safe and will do well," Mr. Travilla said. "It seems to

be only a flesh wound, and will soon heal with proper treatment and good

nursing. I shall go from here to Dr. Barton's; calling for my wife on my

return. But first what can I do for you? Ah, I see your door is quite

demolished. We must have it replaced with a new and stronger one before

night."

"Yes, that is the most pressing need just now," said Mrs. Leland. "Come

in and look; there is really no other damage except a few bullet holes

in the walls, and these blood-stains on the matting," she said with a

slight shudder; "and I am truly thankful to have escaped so well."

They stepped into the hall, (their talk so far had been on the veranda,)

and gazed with interest upon the marks of the night's conflict, Mrs.

Leland meanwhile giving a graphic account of it.

A servant was diligently at work cleaning the matting, and had nearly

obliterated the stains left by the wounded Ku Klux.

"And you shot him, Mrs. Leland?" Elsie said inquiringly.

"Archie or I, or perhaps both of us," Mrs. Leland answered, leading the

way to the parlor.

They sat there a few moments, conversing still upon the same theme.

"You will hardly dare stay here at night now?" Elsie remarked.

"Yes; where else? I should feel very little safer from the Ku Klux in

the woods, and the malaria might rob us all of health and even life."

"Come to Ion," said both her visitors in a breath, "you will be most

welcome."

"A thousand thanks," she answered with emotion. "I do not doubt my

welcome; yet fear to give a clue to my husband's hiding place."

"There might be danger of that," Mr. Travilla said thoughtfully, "but

what better, my dear madam, can you do?"

"Stay here and put my trust in the Lord. He will take care of me and my

helpless little ones.

"I have been thinking of one of our noble pioneer women of the West,

whose husband was killed by the Indians, leaving her alone in the

wilderness with six small children, no white person within several

miles.

"Her friends urged her to leave the dangerous spot, but she said, 'No,

this farm is all I have for my own and my children's support, and I must

stay here. God will protect and help us.' And he did; the Indians,

though they knew she was alone, never attacked her. She lay sometimes

all night with a broadax in her hands, ready to defend her babes; but

though she could see the savages come into her yard and light their

pipes at her brushwood fire, they never approached the house?"

Elsie's eyes kindled with enthusiastic admiration, then filled with

tears. "Dear, brave Christian woman! and you will emulate her courage

and faith."

"I shall try; the hearts of the Ku Klux of to-day are no less in His

hands than those of the Indians of that day or this."

"That is certainly true and he never fails those who put their trust in

him," Mr. Travilla said, rising. "Now, wife, I will leave you here while

I go for Barton."

"Oh stay a moment, Edward," she exclaimed, "a thought has struck me: it

is not usual for you to go for the doctor yourself: might it not excite

suspicion? And can you not trust Uncle Joe as your messenger?"

"Your plan is best," he said with a pleased smile. "Let us then hasten

home and dispatch him on the errand at once."

Dr. Barton found the wound not dangerous, extracted the ball with little

difficulty, and left the patient doing well.

The attack on Fairview and the disappearance of its owner, caused

considerable excitement in the neighborhood; there was a good deal of

speculation as to what had become of him: some thought it probable that

he had hidden in the woods and died there of his wounds; others that he

had gone North to stay until the reign of terror should be over.

No one, perhaps, suspected the truth, yet the wrath of the Ku Klux was

excited against the Travillas, and the Dinsmores of the Oaks, by the

kindness they showed to Leland's wife and children; and threatening

notices were sent ordering them to desist from giving aid and comfort to

"the carpet-bagger's family."

They however paid no heed to the insolent demand, but exerted themselves

to discover who were the men wounded in the raid; for that more than one

had been hurt, was evidenced by the bloody tracks in and around the

house at Fairview.

In this they were not successful; doubtless because the men were from a

distance, it being the custom for the organization so to arrange matters

that thus they might the more readily escape recognition.

The Ion children were at play in the front veranda one morning shortly

after breakfast, when a strange gentleman came riding leisurely up the

avenue.

Harold was the first to notice his approach. "Mammy, mammy! see who's

tumin! dat one de Kluxes?" he asked, running in affright to Aunt Chloe,

who sat in their midst with the babe on her lap.

"Spect not, honey; don't be 'fraid," she said soothingly, putting her

arm about the little trembler.

The little girls were dressing their dolls, Eddie and Bruno racing back

and forth, in and out, having a grand romp: but at Harold's question,

Eddie suddenly stood still, with an imperative, "Down, Bruno! down sir!

be quiet now!" and turned to look at the stranger.

The gentleman, now close at hand, reined in his horse, lifted his hat,

and with a winning smile, said "Good morning, my little lads and lasses.

Is your mother in?"

"No, sir, she and papa have gone out riding," replied Eddie, returning

the bow and smile.

Elsie laid aside her doll and stepping forward, said with a graceful

little courtesy, "Good morning, sir, will you dismount and come in? Papa

and mamma will probably be here in a few minutes."

"Ah, ha! um h'm; ah ha! Yes, my little lady, I will do so, thank you,"

returned the gentleman, giving his horse into the care of a servant,

summoned by Eddie.

"Will you walk into the drawing-room sir?" Elsie asked.

"No, thank you," he replied seating himself among them, and sending a

glance of keen interest from one to another.

One look into the pleasant, genial face, banished Harold's fears, and

when the stranger held out his hand, saying, "I am your mamma's cousin,

won't you come and sit on my knee?" the child went to him at once; while

the others gathered eagerly about.

"Mamma's cousin! then she will be very glad to see you," said Elsie.

"But she never told us about you," observed Eddie.

"Ah ha, ah ha! um h'm! ah ha! But did she ever tell you about any of her

mother's kin?"

"No, sir," said Elsie, "I asked her once, and she said she didn't know

anything about them; she wished she did."

"Ah ha! ah ha, um h'm! ah ha! Well, she soon will. Child, you look very

like a picture of your great-grandmother that hangs in my house in

Edinburgh. A bonny lassie she must have been when it was taken."

"Yes, sir; and she's the picture of mamma;" remarked Eddie; "everybody

says so."

"Ah ha, ah ha! um h'm, ah ha!"

"Has you dot any 'ittle boys and dirls at your house?" asked Harold.

"Yes, my man, a quiver full of them."

"Are they good? do they love Jesus?" asked Vi. "Please tell us about

them."

"If you like to, sir," said Elsie, with a sweet and gentle gravity.

"Vi, dear, you know we mustn't tease."

"No, I didn't mean to tease," Vi answered, blushing. "Please excuse me,

sir, and don't tell it 'less you want to."

"No, no; it will give me pleasure, my dear. I enjoy talking of my

darlings; especially now when they are so far away."

He seemed about to begin, when Elsie, blushing deeply, said, "Excuse me,

sir, I have been very remiss in my hospitalities. It is early, and

perhaps you have not breakfasted."

"Yes, thank you my dear, I took breakfast at the village hotel, where I

arrived last night."

"But you will take a cup of coffee and some fruit--"

Her sentence was broken off; for at that instant a lady and gentleman

came galloping up the avenue and the little ones hailed them with a

joyous shout, "Papa and mamma!"

Another moment and Mr. Travilla had dismounted, gallantly assisted his

wife to do the same and together they stepped into the veranda. Both

bowed politely to the stranger, and the children running to them cried,

"Mamma, mamma, it is your cousin from Scotland."

She turned inquiringly to him, a flush of pleasure on her face.

He had risen from his seat, and was coming toward her with outstretched

hand and earnest, admiring gaze. "My name is Ronald Lilburn; your

maternal grandmother and mine were sisters," he said, "your

grandmother's marriage was displeasing to her father and all intercourse

between her and the rest of the family was broken off in obedience to

his stern command; and thus they lost sight of each other. I have

brought proofs of--"

But Elsie's hand was already laid in his, while glad tears sprang to her

eyes.

"You shall show us them at another time if you will; but I could never

doubt such a face as yours, and can not tell you how glad I am to have

at last found a relative on my mother's side of the house. Cousin, you

are welcome, welcome to Ion!" And she turned to her husband.

"Yes," he said, offering his hand with the greatest cordiality, "welcome

indeed, and not more so to my little wife than to myself."

"Thanks to you both," he said with a bow and smile. "Cousin," with an

earnest look at his hostess, "you are _very_ like a picture I have of

your grandmother. But," with a glance at the wide-eyed little ones,

looking on and listening in wonder and surprise, "can it be that you

are the mother of all these? yourself scarce more than a bairn in

appearance."

Elsie laughed lightly. "Ah, cousin, you have not examined me closely yet

I have not been a bairn for many years. How glad papa will be, Edward,

to see a relative of my mother's!"

"No doubt of it, wife, and we must send him word immediately."

Mr. Lilburn had no reason to complain of his reception: he was treated

with the utmost hospitality, and his coming made the occasion of general

rejoicing in the household. Refreshments were promptly set before him, a

handsome suite of apartments appropriated to his use, and a man-servant

directed to attend upon his person.

A note was sent to the Oaks inviting the whole family to Ion; the

children were given a holiday, and Elsie, her husband, and father, spent

the morning in conversation with their guest, and in examining family

records, miniatures and photographs which he had brought with him.

The day passed most agreeably to all; the new found relatives were

mutually pleased and interested in each other.

Mr. Lilburn was evidently a gentleman of intelligence, polish and

refinement; seemed to be an earnest Christian, too, and in easy

circumstances.

The little folks made friends with him at once, and as children are apt

to be quick at reading character, the older ones felt this to be a

confirmation of the good opinion he had already won from them.

Chapter Sixteenth.

"I know that there are angry spirits

And turbulent mutterers of stifled treason,

Who lurk in narrow places, and walk out

Muffled to whisper curses to the night.

Disbanded soldiers, discontented ruffians

And desperate libertines who lurk in taverns."

--BYRON.

A bright, warm day, some hours after sunrise. A man of rather

gentlemanly appearance, well, though not handsomely dressed, is riding

leisurely along the public highway. He wears a broad-brimmed straw hat

as a protection from the sun, and a linen duster somewhat soiled by the

dust of travel. He has a shrewd though not unkindly face, and a keen

grey eye whose quick glances seem to take in everything within its range

of vision.

It is a lonely bit of road he is traveling and he moves with caution

evidently on the alert for any appearance of danger.

Presently he perceives another solitary horseman approaching from the

opposite direction, and at the sight lays his hand on the pistols in

his belt concealed by the duster, to make sure that they are ready for

instant use; but at the same time keeping steadily on his way.

The new comer is a slender boy of eighteen or twenty, not at all

dangerous looking.

As the two near each other each lifts his hat with a courteous, "Good

morning, sir," the lad at the same time carelessly sliding his right

hand down the left lappel of his coat.

The movement, slight as it was, had not escaped the watchful grey eyes,

and instantly their owner replied by sliding his left hand in the same

manner down the right lappel of his coat.

The lad then ran his fingers lightly through his hair; the other

imitated his action; the lad opened his coat and seemed to be searching

for a pin; the man opened his, took out a pin and handed it to him with

a polite bow.

"Thanks! all right sir; I perceive you are one of us," said the boy,

drawing a paper from his pocket and presenting it to the man. "Miller's

Woods!" and touching his hat he galloped away.

There was a twinkle in the grey eyes as they shot one swift glance after

him; then the paper was opened and examined with minute care.

On it was a half moon with several dates written in different places

about it, and that was all; yet its new possessor regarded it with great

satisfaction, and after a careful scrutiny bestowed it safely in his

breast pocket.

"I'll be on hand without fail," he said, in a low, confidential tone,

perhaps addressing his horse, as there was no one else within hearing.

"To-night! they're late serving my notice; but better late than never;

for me, though perhaps not for themselves," he added with a grim smile.

"Well, my preparations won't take long: dress-suit's all ready."

He kept on his way at the old leisurely pace, presently came in sight of

Fairview, passed it, then Ion, diligently using his eyes as he went,

made a circuit of several miles and returned to the town which he had

left some hours previously.

Dismounting at the village tavern, he gave his horse into the care of

the hostler, and joined a group of idlers about the bar-room door. They

were talking politics and one appealed to him for his opinion.

"Don't ask me," he said with a deprecatory gesture! "I'm no party man

and never meddle with politics."

"On the fence, hey? Just the place for a coward and a sneak," returned

his interlocutor contemptuously.

The other half drew his bowie knife, then thrusting it back again, said

good-humoredly, "I'll let that pass, Green; you've taken a drop too

much and are not quite compos mentis just now."

"Be quiet, will you, Green;" spoke up one of his companions, "you know

well enough Snell's no coward. Why didn't he risk his life the other

day, to save your boy from drowning?"

"Yes; I'd forgot. I take that back, Snell. Will you have a glass?"

"Thank you, no, it's too hot, and your wife and babies need the money,

Green."

The words were half drowned in the clang of the dinner bell, and the

group scattered, Snell, and most of the others hurrying into the

dining-room in answer to the welcome call.

After dinner Snell sauntered out in the direction of the stable, passed

with a seemingly careless glance in at the door, and strolled onward;

but in that momentary glimpse had noted the exact position of his horse.

About ten o'clock that night he stole quietly out again, made his way

unobserved to the stable, saddled and bridled his steed, all in the

dark, mounted and rode away, passing through the village streets at a

very moderate pace, but breaking into a round trot as soon as he had

fairly reached the open country.

He pressed on for several miles, but slackened his speed as he neared

the forest known as Miller's Woods.

For the last mile or more he had heard, both in front and rear, the

thumping of horses' hoofs, and occasionally a word or two spoken in an

undertone, by gruff voices.

He was anxious to avoid an encounter with their owners, and on reaching

the outskirts of the wood, suddenly left the road, and springing to the

ground, took his horse by the bridle, and led him along for some rods

under the trees; then fastening him securely, opened a bundle he had

brought with him, and speedily arrayed himself in the hideous Ku Klux

disguise.

He stood a moment intently listening. The same sounds still coming from

the road; evidently many men were traveling it that night; and Snell

reflected with grave concern, though without a shadow of fear, that if

seen and recognized by any one of them his life would speedily pay the

forfeit of his temerity; for spite of his acquaintance with their secret

signs, he was not a member of the order.

He was, in fact, a detective in pursuit of evidence to convict the

perpetrators of the outrages which had been so frequent of late in that

vicinity.

Making sure that his arms were in readiness for instant use, he hastened

on his way, threading the mazes of the wood with firm, quick, but light

step.

He had proceeded but a short distance, when he came upon a sentinel who

halted him.

Snell slapped his hands together twice, quick and loud.

The sentinel answered in the same manner, and permitted him to pass; the

same thing was repeated twice, and then a few steps brought him into the

midst of the assembled Klan; for it was a general meeting of all the

camps in the county which together composed a Klan.

Snell glided, silently and unquestioned, to a place among the others,

the disguise and the fact of his having passed the sentinels, lulling

all suspicion.

Most of those present were in disguise, but some were not, and several

of these the officer recognized as men whom he knew by name and by

sight, among them Green and George Boyd.

A good deal of business was transacted; several raids were decided upon,

the victims named, the punishment to be meted out to each prescribed,

and the men to execute each order appointed.

One member after another would mention the name of some individual who

had become obnoxious to him personally, or to the Klan, saying that he

ought to be punished; and the matter would be at once taken up, and

arrangements made to carry out his suggestion.

Boyd mentioned the name of "Edward Travilla, owner of Ion," cursing him

bitterly as a scalawag, a friend of carpet-baggers, and of the

education and elevation of the negroes.

"Right! his case shall receive prompt attention!" said the chief.

"Let it be a severe whipping administered to-morrow night, between the

hours of twelve and two," proposed Green, and the motion was put to vote

and carried without a dissenting voice.

"And let me have a hand in it!" cried Boyd, fiercely.

"You belong to the neighborhood and might be recognized," objected the

chief.

"I'll risk it. I owe him a sound flogging, or something worse," returned

Boyd.

"We all do, for he'd have every mother's son of us sent to jail or

hanged, if he could," growled another voice on Snell's right, while from

a mask on the left there came in sepulchral tones, the words, "It had

better be hands off with you then, man," the speaker pointing

significantly to Boyd's maimed member.

"It shall!" cried he, "but I flatter myself this right hand, mutilated

though it be, can lay on the lash as vigorously as yours, sir."

After a little more discussion, Boyd's wish was granted, his fellow

raiders were named, and presently the meeting was closed, and the

members began to disperse.

Snell thought he had escaped suspicion thus far, but his heart leaped

into his mouth as a man whom he had heard addressed as Jim Blake,

suddenly clapped his hand on his shoulder, exclaiming, "Ah, ha, I know

you, old chap!"

"You do? who am I then?" queried the spy in a feigned, unnatural voice,

steady and cool, spite of the terrible danger that menaced him.

"Who? Hal Williams, no disguise could hide you from me."

Snell drew a breath of relief. "Ha! ha! Jim, I didn't think you were so

cute," he returned in his feigned voice, and glided away presently

disappearing, as others were doing, in the deeper shadows of the wood.

He thought it not prudent to go directly to the spot where he had left

his horse, but reached it by a circuitous route, doffing his disguise

and rolling it into a bundle again as he went.

He paused a moment to recover breath and listen. All was darkness and

silence; the conspirators had left the vicinity.

Satisfied of this, he led his horse into the road, mounted and rode back

to the town.

There every one seemed to be asleep except in a drinking saloon, whence

came sounds of drunken revelry, and the bar room of the tavern where he

put up. A light was burning there, but he avoided it attended to his

horse himself, returning it to the precise spot where he had found it,

then slipped stealthily up to his room, and without undressing threw

himself upon the bed and almost immediately fell into a profound

slumber.

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.