83. CHAPTER LXXXIII.
NEWS FROM THE CAPITAL.
“Now, my Lord,” said Alice, when she accompanied his
Lordship into the library, “pray be seated, and deliver frankly
what you may have to say. But remember I can listen to
matters pertaining only to the interests of the country. For
better, for worse, in life and in death, with the exception of
the affection due my parent and my friends, I am wholly
devoted to the object of my patriotic solicitude. I need not
be more explicit, and yet I might be. I might say there was
a time—and another object—but it is past! When the last
flickering ray of love goes out in the heart of a true woman
—self-extinguished—it is gone for ever!”
Having uttered these words, Alice, who had reclined her
brow for a moment on her hand, raised her pale face, and
gazed with her tearless eyes at the now serious countenance
of his Lordship.
“Fair lady!” said he, “far be it from me to desecrate the
sacred shrine of the true and faithful heart of maiden! And
if I have seemed to offend by any former levity, or by my
politic suggestions, wherein, as is sometimes the habit in
Europe, the heart might not be a party in an alliance subscribed
with the hand—I humbly crave your pardon! And
now, my words will surely convince you, I trust, that my
motive in soliciting this interview may very properly merit
your consideration.”
“But, my Lord,” said Alice, archly shaking her head,
“it was really your design to be captured, when you persisted
in occupying the farm-house!”
“It was—and I have confessed it. But it was for the
purpose of announcing to you, and through you to the President,
my purpose of rupturing the alliance of my Government
with Ruffleton.”
“Is it possible?” exclaimed Alice, gazing steadfastly at
the diplomatist.
“It is not only possible,” replied his Lordship, “but it
became inevitable, when the Despot proclaimed his design
to legalize slavery in all the States. After the adoption of
such a measure as that, my Government has no alternative
but to renounce the alliance. Every British Administration
for years has been solemnly committed in favor of the abolition
of slavery throughout the world. And yet this foolish
man, yielding to the counsels of a mere weather-cock
politician—”
“Windvane!” said Alice.
“Yes, lady—a mere wind-vane politician—has perpetrated
an infamous absurdity, which, if it did not rupture our
friendly relations, would justly subject us to the condemnation
and contumely of all the civilized nations of the earth.”
“Very true, my Lord! But, then, what does the world
say in regard to the act which consigned the homestead of
Washington to the flames!”
“It speaks but one voice! But we are prepared to prove
it was not sanctioned by us. And we have dismissed Junkins
from the service.”
“I am glad to hear this. My Lord, we will confer again
in relation to this matter. And in the meantime I will
communicate with my father. An express starts for his
head-quarters to-night.”
“Adieu, then, till to-morrow,” said Lord Slysir, rising
and bowing profoundly. “I will not trespass further on
your time to-night.” And he rejoined his companions in
the great saloon.
But he had no sooner retired than Edith glided into the
library from another door, bearing a letter just brought to
the Castle by one purporting to be a deserter.
“Miss Alice Randolph, Amherst Castle,” repeated Edith,
reading the superscription.
“Here am I, Edith,” said Alice. “Did you call?”
“I but read the address of this letter—a love-letter, I
hope, for our mutual diversion.”
“A letter for me? Whom from? From whence?”
“Nay, that I am in agony to learn myself. But here let
us sit and conjecture, before you break the seal,” she continued,
reclining in a great chair beside the one occupied
by her friend, and placing the letter in her hand. “Our
tête-à-tête will not be disturbed. Dr. Love has uttered his
brief petition, and sent all the guests and inmates to their
couches but ourselves and the nodding maids who await the
tinkle of your bell. Gaze on—but do not break the seal
yet; it was brought hither by one whom I have seen in
Washington—I know not his name, but Willy says he is
anxious to enter the service of the President.”
“Then the letter may be from some one we left in Washington—but
I will see!” Saying this, she broke the seal.
“Read on, while I close my eyes,” said Edith. “I do
not ask to know its contents. But if you should choose to
read aloud, I may listen.”
“Listen, Edith!” cried Alice. “It is good news! It is
from —”
“Whom?”
“Windvane.”
“Windvane!”
“Ay, Windvane—and it is marked confidential.”
“Indeed! And does he possess your confidence?”
“The miscreant! But still he can be of infinite service.
Listen—”
“You forget it is confidential.”
“He has no right to impose any such restriction on me.
But you will keep the secret until I absolve you. Listen.”
The letter set out by saying that grass was growing in
the streets of the Northern cities; the factories were idle;
the ships rotting at the wharves, and most of the stores and
shops closed and deserted—while everywhere the people
were secretly pining for a restoration of the Government
under which they had lived so long and prospered so much.
In Boston the Three had been assassinated, and half the
guillotines had been destroyed by unknown parties in the
night. In many places the obnoxious agents of Ruffleton
had absconded in obedience to anonymous warnings; and
more than five hundred of the three thousand fanatical
political parsons had been hung by persons wearing masks.
Windvane declared his purpose to overthrow the Tyrant,
and to deliver him into the hands of justice. He said the
Secretary of the Treasury was likewise disposed to abandon
the enemy and serve the President, unless, indeed, he could
succeed in shipping the $30,000,000 to Europe, and sailing
in the same vessel. But that would be prevented, as his
spies were ever watching the Secretary's motions. But the
ladies were greatly startled at the next development of
Windvane's sagacity. He said that by obtaining an interview
with Lord Slysir, Alice could easily induce him to
order the British fleet to guard the coast—and prevent both
the escape of fugitives and the sending away of treasure—
and that he—Windvane—
had induced Ruffleton to issue
his famous Richmond Proclamation, for the express purpose
of detaching England from his alliance! The next
announcement was a master-stroke of the politician. Supposing
he was familiar with all the secret impulses of Alice's
heart, he proposed, upon the reception of an affirmative
intimation from the Castle,
to have Flora Summers seized
and dragged to the guillotine!
“Alice!” cried Edith, and at the same time throwing her
arms round the neck of her friend, “a light is breaking
from Heaven! The prayers of the good and great of the
Union have ascended to the Throne of God! Peace will
be restored, and the Republic preserved for ever!”
“For ever! For ever!” responded Alice, with uplifted and
tearful eyes— “may He who presides over the destinies of
nations, and who vouchsafed his approbation of the work
of Washington, grant that this great Republic may survive
the crumbling of all other Governments, to the end of recorded
time!”
“But, Alice!” continued Edith, “you will not permit
the horrid executioner to guillotine the misguided but
faithful Flora.
“No! No!” cried Alice, springing up, and ringing the
bell violently. “Never! Never! She aided me in escaping,
I care not what her motive was—I care not if she did meditate
my death—I care not how much she loves the Despot.
She is faithful in her love—true to the object of her love—
and I will, at all hazards, fulfil my promise to her! Where's
Wiry Willy?” she demanded of the five or six female slaves
that came running into the library in answer to the summons
of the bell.
“La, missus,” said the foremost, “he's done gone to bed
long ago!”
“Wake him up! Tell him to come hither immediately!”
“Yes, missus!” said the maid, departing precipitately,
while the rest remained awaiting further orders.
“Bring us some cake and wine,” said Alice. “We shall
not close our eyes to-night. Edith, you will aid me. Many
letters must be written, and several messengers despatched
before the dawn. Now,” she continued, when she beheld
a table covered with refreshments, and addressing the
slaves, “you may go to your rest. Sleep while we labor,
and be fresh in the morning. We labor for you as well as
ourselves, for you are members of our families, and shall
share our good as well as our evil fortunes.”
“Miss Alice,” said one of them, curtsying, “all de Abolitionists
in de world couldn't make us desert you! And
brother Pompey, who was wid General Fell, has stole away,
and says none of de dark folks are gwine to fight agin de
President.”
“I hope they will not, Agnes. Good night!”
“I thought it was Pompey I saw talking to Agnes in one
of the corridors,” said Edith. “And why should any of
Fell's army of slaves unite with Ruffleton, since his famous
Proclamation consigns them to slavery? Not only so, but
I am sure it is his intention to make slaves of all the free
negroes in the North!”
“Nor is that all,” said Alice, “he would make a nation
of white freemen his slaves! But we are upon the eve of
great events—events which will consign the enemies of the
country to destruction! Ah, Willy!” she continued, as the
faithful messenger appeared. “Come in. I am sorry to be
under the necessity of disturbing your slumber. But,
Willy, it is a necessity. It is a mission of the greatest importance—especially
to me. It is for life or death—it is—”
“No matter what it is, Miss Alice!” said Willy. “I
await your commands!”
“Willy, Windvane writes me—confidentially, he says,
but from you no confidence is withheld—that the country—
all the North, is ready to rise against the Usurper and Tyrant,
and—”
“Windvane too?” said Willy.
“Of course,” said Edith, “if the wind is in that direction.”
“Yes, Windvane, too,” continued Alice smiling; “but
he would go too far—he would seize and decapitate Flora
Summers!”
“Flora Summers!” cried Willy, springing up from the
chair he had occupied, in obedience to the injunction of Alice.
“Do not permit it! She was your friend! She planned your
escape and assisted—”
“I know it, Willy. And I promised my gratitude and
protection, if it should ever be in my power to serve her.”
“Let me go to Washington! I will set out immediately!”
“Can you pass in safety?”
“No doubt—no doubt! But I will procure a letter from
Lord Slysir.”
“True—it may be obtained. Go to him at once, Will,”
said Alice, “and say I sent you—say I desire as a special
favor, that he will provide you with a passport, and any
message in his own behalf that will facilitate your progress.”
Willy hastened to the chamber of his Lordship, and
Alice seized her pen and wrote with great rapidity; while
Edith indited a letter to General Blount, to be borne by the
messenger about setting out for the head-quarters of the
President.
