Let us now return to Carrie Wise, whom we left parting with Minnie. "Where is Minnie?" said two of her schoolmates, who observed that "Oh," said she, "one of the strangest things I ever heard of happened!" "Well, what was it?" said the girls; and by this time they had joined another group of girls. "Why this morning, Minnie and I walked out shopping, and just as I came out of Carruthers' I met an old friend of mother's, and stopped to speak with her, and I said 'Minnie, just wait a minute.'" "She passed on, and left me talking with Mrs. Jackson. When I joined her, I found a colored woman talking to her, and she was trembling from head to foot, and just as pale as a ghost; and I said, 'Why, Minnie, what is the matter?'" "She gasped for breath, and I thought she was going to faint, and I got real scared. And what do you think Minnie said?" "Why," she said, "Carrie, this woman says she's my mother!" "Her mother!" cried a half dozen voices. "Why you said she was colored!" "Well, so she was. She was quite light, but I knew she was colored." "How did you know? Maybe she was only a very dark-complexioned white woman." "Oh no, she wasn't, I know white people from colored, I've seen enough of them." "A colored woman! well that is very strange; but do tell us what Minnie said." "She asked her where she came from, and where she lived. She said she came in yesterday with the Union soldiers, and that she had come from Louisiana, and then Minnie told her to come with her, and she would find a place for her to stop." "And did she leave you in the street to walk with a Nigger?" said a coarse, rough-looking girl. "Yes, and so I left her. I wasn't going to walk down the street with them!" "Well, did I ever?" said a pale and interesting-looking girl. "That is just as strange as a romance I have been reading!" "Well, they say truth is stranger than fiction. A deceitful thing to try to pass for white when she is colored! If she comes back to this school I shan't stay!" said the coarse rough girl, twirling her gold pencil. "I ain't a going to sit alongside of niggers." "How you talk! I don't see that if the woman is Minnie's mother, and is colored, it makes any difference in her. I am sure it does not to me," said one of Minnie's friends. "Well, it does to me," said another; "you may put yourself on an equality with niggers, but I won't." "And I neither," chimed in another voice. "There are plenty of colored schools; let her go to them." "Oh, girls, I think it real cruel the way you talk!" "How would you like any one to treat you so?" "Can't help it, I ain't a coming to school with a nigger." "She is just as good as you are, Mary Patuck, and a great deal smarter." "I don't care, she's a nigger, and that's enough for me." And so the sentiment of the school was divided. Some were in favor of treating her just as well as usual, and others felt like complaining to their parents that a Negro was in school. At last the news reached the teacher, and he, poor, weak, and vacillating man, had not manhood enough to defend her, but acted according to the prejudices of society, and wrote Thomas a note telling him that circumstances made it desirable that she should not again come to school. In the meantime the news had reached their quiet little village, and of course it offered food for gossip; it was discussed over tea-tables and in the sewing circle. Some concluded that Thomas should have brought her up among the colored people, and others that he did perfectly right. Still there was a change in Minnie's social relations. Some were just as kind as ever. Others grew distant, and some avoided having anything to say to her, and stopped visiting the house. Anna and Thomas, although superior people, were human, and could not help feeling the difference, but some business of importance connected with the death of a relative called Thomas abroad, and he made up his mind that he would take Anna and Minnie with him, hoping that the voyage and change of scene would be beneficial to his little girl, as he still called Minnie, and so on a bright and beautiful morning in the spring of '62 he left the country for a journey to England and the Continent. Let us now return to Louis Le Croix, whom we left disappointed and wounded by Minnie's refusal. After he left her he entered his room, and sat for a long time in silent thought; at last he rose, and walked to the window and stood with his hands clenched, and his finely chiseled lips firmly set as if he had bound his whole soul to some great resolve—a resolve which he would accomplish, let it cost what it might. And so he had; for he had made up in his mind within the last two hours that he would join the Confederacy. "That live or die, sink or swim, survive or perish," he would unite his fortunes to her destiny. His next step then was to plan how he could reach Louisiana; he felt confident that if he could get as far as Louisville he could manage to get into Tennessee, and from thence to Louisiana. And so nothing daunted by difficulties and dangers, he set out on his journey, and being aided by rebels on his way in a few weeks he reached the old plantation on Red River; he found his sister and Miriam there both glad to see him. Camilla's husband was in Charleston, some of the slaves had deserted to the Union ranks, but the greater portion she still retained with her. Miriam was delighted to see Louis, and seemed never weary of admiring his handsome face and manly form. And Louis, who had never known any other mother seemed really gratified by her little kindnesses and attention; but of course the pleasant and quiet monotony of home did not suit the restless and disquieted spirit of Louis. All the young men around here were in the army or deeply interested in its success. There was a call for more volunteers, and a new company was to be raised in that locality. Louis immediately joined, and turned his trained intellect to the study of military tactics; day and night he was absorbed in this occupation, and soon, although Minnie was not forgotten, the enthusiasm of his young life gathered around the Confederate cause. He did not give himself much time to reflect. Thought was painful to him, and he continued to live in a whirl of excitement. News of battle, tidings of victory and defeats, the situation of the armies, and the hopes and fears that clustered around those fearful days of struggle made the staple of conversation. Louis rapidly rose in favor with the young volunteers, and was chosen captain of a company who were permitted to drill and stay from the front as a reserve corps, ready to be summoned at any moment. |