University of Virginia Library

5. CHAPTER V.
THE ELOQUENT EMISSARY.

Tom had kept his own counsel, and although his greatly changed
demeanor, and the fact that there was no repetition of his visit to
Miss Van Kleeck, excited Harry's suspicions, he could not fully
believe either that his brother had been rejected, or that he had
abandoned his matrimonial views. But much as he had tried to
wish for the suitor's success, he had been unable really to do so, and
when the latter, fearful of the imputation which his silence would
fasten upon him, condescended to define his position, it was greatly
to Harry's relief, although not much to his enlightenment.

“I'll tell you what,” said Tom, “I didn't like Getty as well the
second time I saw her; I hardly think she'll do for me. Then
that old dragon that guards her is a horrid old creature. I rather
think I won't be hasty about it. At all events, I will wait awhile.”

Harry thought all this true, for he could not suspect his brother
of falsehood, and he imputed his mistaken opinion of Gertrude
entirely to a want of sufficient acquaintance with her. How truly
he knew her to be worthy of the most exalted love! But he made
little reply, and the subject was soon willingly dropped by both
parties.

Their business affairs, in the meantime, did not mend. The
younger brother soon grew as chimerical and visionary as ever in
searching for short roads to fortune, but without the least idea of
seeking her where she frequents most, in the beaten highway of

patient and plodding toil. It was about this time that Tom returned
home one day from his office, where his occupation was
anything but study, and sought out his brother with an appearance
of much excitement.

and action—such an opportunity as offers but once in a man's

“Now, Harry,” he said, “the time has really come for decision
lifetime. My most sanguine hopes bid fair to be realized.”

“Why, what is it now, Tom?”

“A great chance! While we are dreaming away our time
here, others are up and doing in one of the greatest enterprises of
the age. I have had a long interview, this afternoon, with a Col.
Allen, of Canada, who is to stop here two days, to form a `Hunter's
Lodge,' and I am going to become a member. He says as I
am the first volunteer, and am a man of—of note, as he was
pleased to say, I shall be in a condition for immediate advancement
and a commission.”

“Why, what in the name of the seven wonders are you talking
about?” asked Harry, laying down his flute, and gazing earnestly
at his brother. “Who is Col. Allen, and what is a hunter's
lodge?”

“Surely you cannot be so ignorant as not to know about the
hunters, Harry? You must have read about them in the papers.”

“Oh—ah!—those meddlesome fellows that are trying to get up
a revolution in Canada. I remember now, they call themselves
hunters.”

“Trying to get up a revolution! No, sir; the revolution is
already begun, and is rapidly progressing, and in every town on
the northern frontier, secret clubs are forming of those who wish
to aid, either by personal service or by money, in the cause of
freedom. Col. Allen says that the youth and chivalry of the whole
nation are ready to rise, and win for themselves just such honors
in Canada as Lafayette, and Kosciusko, and other great men,
achieved in our Revolution.”

“Besides lots of prize-money, I suppose,” said Harry, laughing
quietly.

“Yes; General Mackenzie, who is at the head of the provisional
government, has issued a proclamation, offering three hundred
acres of land, and a hundred dollars in specie, to every private;
and as to commissioned officers”—

“General Mackenzie at the head of the provisional government!
Why, Tom, Mackenzie is in Michigan, a refugee and an outlaw,
with a price on his head, and all his own property confiscated.”

“No matter for that! There was a price on Washington's
head, too, wasn't there? What hurt did it do? Mackenzie is to
be the Washington of Canada, its deliverer and its future President.”

“But I thought this agitation was subsiding, since the insurgents
at home, or the patriots, as you call them, and their sympathizers
here, had met with so many and such constant reverses. Surely,
blood enough has been spilt in such a hopeless cause.”

“Subsiding! Col. Allen says it is but just begun; he says that
the burning of the `Caroline' has lit up a flame in every quarter
of the land—that meetings are being everywhere held, and that
millions of money are already subscribed for the cause. Did not
you read of the great meeting in New York last week?”

“Yes, I believe I saw something about it—but I did not pay
much attention to it. It is, at all events, certain that our government
has heretofore, and will continue to use all means to enforce
neutrality, and to prevent American citizens from invading a
country with which we are at peace.”

“Very true. But government can't prevent sympathy, and
private assistance with money, such as we gave to Greece and
Poland—nor can it prevent our citizens from quietly leaving the
country, and when they are out of it, joining any standard they
choose. That's what the colonel says, and every lawyer knows
it's true.”

“It may be true,” said Harry, taking down his flute; “but I
should require more evidence than I have ever seen, either that the
Canadian people are greatly oppressed, or that they desire a revolution,
or that they will turn out to help those who go over to help
them, before I should be sympathizer or subscriber—much less a
hunter, as you call it. It may suit the purpose of a few agitators,
both there and here, to get up a rebellion in the name of a suffering
people, who are very quietly minding their own business at
home, and have no remote intention of committing high treason.”

“But if the people are trampled down, and blinded by their
tyrannical rulers”—

“Let them remain so, until they have spirit enough and sense
enough to rise, as our ancestors did in '75, and then, if they can
show the world even half as just a cause as we did, they will not
lack help. The youth and chivalry of the whole nation would
rise in such a cause uninvoked, excepting by the clash of arms in
the cause of freedom; armies would start up at a hundred points
along our frontiers, like the Highland legion at the whistle of
Roderick Dhu; they would pour into the arena impetuous as the
mountain torrents, and as resistless as the tornado which strews
forests in its path.”

“Why, Harry,” said Tom, who had listened with gradually distending
eyes, “you grow eloquent. You must come with me tonight
and join the club—you must, indeed. Col. Allen will
convince you that the very time you describe is at hand. You
ought to hear him talk on this subject, for I have not told you
half of what he said.”

“You must excuse me—I have not the least curiosity on the
subject.”

“I cannot excuse you—I shall certainly take you along.”

Tom understood the passive and yielding nature of his companion
too well to doubt his ability to carry the point with him, nor
was he disappointed. The brothers went to the meeting, and not a

few of the young men of the village were influenced by their
example to do the same, while many already favorably predisposed
to the cause, responded to the call without solicitation, and awaited
eagerly an opportunity of expressing their sympathy for the
Canadians. Few, indeed, of the large number in attendance entertained
the remotest idea of engaging personally in the anticipated
war, yet there were some, like the younger Vrail, of military
tastes, who hoped to find it an easy avenue to fame and fortune.

No secrecy was observed in this primary meeting, at which its
originator did not intend to say or do anything which could
infringe the neutrality laws—but out of the elements present, it
was his design to form a lodge or secret club, to whom the most
daring projects of the agitators could be proposed, and from
whom could be expected a quota of men for actual service in the
field.

The emissary who had convened this assemblage was a man
fully competent to play his part in the important drama in which
he was engaged. He was a dark-complexioned man, apparently
of about fifty years, with a countenance indicative of great intelligence
and sagacity, and it was with an air so serious, a voice so
musical, and words so apt and fitting that he began his address,
that he could not fail to enlist the earnest attention of all, and at
once to inspire them with an interest in his subject. He spoke
briefly of the history of the Canadas, of the long standing grievances
of the people of the lower province, and of the more recent,
but not less severe oppression of their more western brethren.
He recited the most glowing parts of that celebrated appeal issued
by the leading reformers of Upper Canada, which bears throughout
such a striking resemblance to our own Declaration of Independence,
and which in frequent instances adopts its exact language
to complain of the same wrongs.

He spoke of the premature outbreak which ensued shortly after
the publication of this document, and which, but for some erroneous

counsels which thwarted the plans of the valiant Mackenzie,
must have led to an immediate and successful issue.

How the revolutionary spirit, ripe in both provinces, had
been kindled into a hundred distinct, but unfortunately never
united flames—how a dozen successive insurrections had been successively
defeated by government—and how hundreds of brave
men had been dragged to prison and to the gallows, while a still
larger number had sought refuge in this Asylum of Freedom—he
described in language bold, graphic and startling. He next
painted the efforts which were making by these refugees in this
country, to enlist the friends of Freedom in their cause, while the
throbbing heart of the whole Canadian nation, he said, was
anxiously and ardently awaiting the advent of their deliverers.

“Let but an American army cross the frontiers,” he said, “and
their first bugle blast will be to the disheartened millions of the
North, what the voice of the prophet was to the dry bones in the
valley of vision—they will rise and stand upon their feet, an
exceeding great army. They will rush to your standard from a
thousand points. There will be but one blow to strike, and the
chains will drop from the manacled form of Liberty, never again
to be replaced. Who would not share in this glorious enterprise
of liberating an oppressed and generous people from the shackles
of tyranny; of creating another independent Republic to rank as
a power among the nations of the earth? Strong as is your
government, Americans! deeply as it is rooted in the affections of
twenty millions of brave people, it is not beyond receiving an
accession of strength from the influence and co-operation of a sister
Republic springing up at its side. Canada is destined to be
free. The event is a fixed and certain one in the womb of the
future, and the only question that remains is one of time. Shall
it be now? Now, when oppression has filled to the brim her cup
of bitterness—now, when tens of thousands, both here and there,
are already armed in her cause—now, when all America is sympathizing

with her sufferings, and encouraging her struggles? Or,
shall this golden opportunity, so filled with all the elements of success,
be lost, and another cycle of darkness be reserved for my
beloved country?”

The great earnestness of the orator, and his impassioned style
of speaking, as he proceeded at considerable length to enforce his
appeals, were not without a marked effect upon his audience. He
was frequently interrupted by applause, and sometimes by loud
and long-continued cheers, and at the close of his remarks he was
surrounded by a crowd of young men, who remained, in compliance
with his intimation that he intended to organize a secret society,
or lodge, composed of all who were willing in any way to aid
in the cause.

The younger Vrail, of course, was of this number, and he made
a strong effort, seconded by the Canadian, to induce his brother
to follow his example—for Harry, although not convinced, had
been moved by the stranger's eloquence.

“You do not commit yourself in anything excepting sympathy
and secrecy,” said the orator, “by becoming a member of the
lodge. You will still be as free to decline assisting the cause as
you now are—but those who join and give the required pledge of
secresy will learn much more of the cause and its prospects than I
am at liberty to communicate publicly.”

Harry's yielding nature gave way as usual to the importunity
of his brother, and the young men, together with many of their
associates, soon found themselves transformed into “Hunters,”
fully supplied with all the secret signs and passwords with which
to recognize all others of the fraternity, in whatever quarter of
the two countries they might chance to meet.