THE spring had come again, and a little more than its first month
had elapsed when, early one morning, as the sun was stealing up
softly from the east, and before it had brought the hour for the
slumbering troops to be aroused by another r‚veille, or had gilded
the hills and valleys with its light, Captain Marshall, accompanied
by his faithful orderly, Franco, entered the half-slumbering town
of Minneopoli and turned toward the inn, whence the coach was soon
to leave for the nearest railway station.
"Lieutenant Styles will be in command, Franco, till I return, you
know, and I fear he will form a dangerous substitute, with his
affable nature," said the captain, as the hour of parting drew near.
"Well, never mind that, captain; no matter how affable, we boys do
not wish a new commander just now," returned the true-hearted boy.
"Take care of your scalps, Franco. Don't let the 'red-skins'
surprise you while I am gone. There, I see the coach is ready. I
must soon bid you adieu."
"If I remember the bravery of my captain, the red devils won't get
my scalp, I'll wager. But I hope they are settled for a time. Come
back as soon as you can, captain, and in your absence think
occasionally of Franco, will you? There comes the coach. The horses
are fine and gay."
"Rest assured, Franco, I will think of you, and often too. How I
would like to take you with me! But take care of yourself. A month's
absence is not such a long time, after all. Good-by, my dear fellow,
good-by;" and seating himself in the waiting coach, Captain Marshall
waved an adieu to his sorrowful young companion, and at the same
moment the coach driver hallooed, "All ready!" and gave a sharp
crack of the whip; the horses dashed forward, and recruit and
captain were soon separated-separated forever. In less time than a
fortnight, Captain Marshall had accomplished his long and
troublesome journey, and was safe once more within his native State.
"I tell you, Fred," said the captain, one day when he was visiting a
friend in the Queen City, "the agitated, portentous state of affairs
in this section distresses and alarms me. I had no dream of the
warlike aspect of this quiet Queen City of the Sea. I fancied we had
all the trouble with us, in the north-west, among those wretched
savages. I came home for a month of recreation and pleasure, and--"
he uttered with slight hesitation--"for the fulfilment of my plighted
troth; for the realization of the bright dream of a love that has
brightened my heart for nearly two years. Yes, Fred, and if it were
not for the business that takes me to fair Melrose, I should regret
that my coming home had been just at this time. I tell you, my good
fellow, the future portends evil, if not bloodshed."
"Well, Marshall, bloodshed is inevitable, unless as a section we are
allowed our constitutional rights; and I, for one, say, if it must,
let it come, even with the fury of a storm. I am for State rights,
and the Palmetto State forever!"
"Not bloodshed, Fred, if we can avert it," replied the young officer
to the enthusiastic outburst of the impetuous young Pinckney, the
beloved friend of his boyhood. "I am just from the gory field, where
I saw my brave men fall beneath the treacherous blows of the
Indians. I have seen bloodshed, and desire to see no more of it. I
have always loved military life, you know, Fred; but I tell you it
tries the heart of a man to see his men shot down like dogs."
"Oh, yes; you are for the Union, I see," replied young Pinckney with
impatient gesture. "Your service in the regular army has weaned your
heart from your native State, I fear."
"Oh! yes; I am for the Union just now-the union of hearts, at least;
and as you go with me to Melrose, you shall see that the union is
maintained."
"O bother! Marshall; you can think of nothing now but matrimony. I
am for the union of hearts myself; but the union of States as it has
existed, I detest. Peaceable secession, you see, we cannot have; and
if it must come in bloodshed, why, in the name of mankind, let it
come! I am ready for the issue of my State's action."
"I pray your blood may never be required as the price of forcible
secession, my dear Fred. But the condition of the country appals me!
I-whom duty calls to one place, and whom ties of affection bind to
another-I am placed in no enviable position. Yet I still hope the
trouble will soon clear up, and all will yet be bright."
"Your duty is plain before you, Marshall. It's for or against us
now, and no equivocation."
"Well, we'll not fall out about our country's troubles. They may be
better and they may be worse than we anticipate. I'll hope for the
best, though evil come. Let's talk of Melrose, and the fair flower
that blooms there. Eh, Fred?"
Fred replied smiling, "So we will, dear boy; here, take this cigar.
Let's have a smoke, and if you like we'll stroll down to the Battery
and see the encampment."