/ COL. GEORGE WASHINGTON FLOWERS MEMORIAL COLLECTION DUKE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY DURHAM. N. C. PRESENTED BY W. W. FLOWERS Digitized by tine Internet Archive in 2012 with funding from Duke University Libraries http://archive.org/details/rightorwrongtaleOObail RIGHT OH WW A TALE OF WAR AND FAITH By mUTHIItDE AltPUEUTE MIItEY Author of ''Heart Histories,'' ''Sam Waggle Papers," "At a Picnic, " "The Man Who Sold His Kisses, ' ' and Other Tales. 1912 THE L. GRAHAM COMPANY, Ltd. NKW OBLBAN8 TO NAZARETH, MY BELOVED ALMA MATER, THIS WORK IS GRATEFULLY DEDICATED BY THE AUTHOR. The author wishes to thank His Grace, Most Eev. James H. Blenk, Archbishop of New Orleans, and The Morning Star, for permission to publish, in book form, this story, which first appeared, serially, in the columns of the official organ of the Diocese. M. A. B. S48284 Copyrighted 1912. RIGHT OR WRONG A TALE OF WAR AND FAITH BY MATHILDE ALPUENTE BAILEY CHAPTEK 1. ''Hello! Mamma! Eita! Mam Tel!" Tlie words arose in crescendo. The speaker, a young man wearing the uniform of the New Orleans Washington Artillery, leaned in his saddle and peered eagerly, in the fast gathering gloom, towards the house that stood in a grove of trees some distance back from the gate. Not waiting for a reply to his summons, he leaned from his saddle, dexterously unfastening the latch, rode at full speed and reached the gallery, just as his call was answered by three women, on whose faces fear and anxiety were plainly to be read. "Mamma!" he exclaimed, "I have only a moment to stay. The troops have been massing towards the enemy's front all day. There will be an attack undoubtedly to-morrow. It is as I feared. You may be in the thick of the fight. I came to remind you that there is on the other bank of Lick Creek n small house, in which I have secured a room for you. Mrs. Frawley is also provided for, if she will accompany you. Turner's Ford is safe, and Mrs. Frawley knows the country and will easily find the house on the Hamburg Eoad. You must promise me you will go to Mr. Atkins. Tell him who you are, he will be prepared for you. Promise me!" "As you will, my son," replied Mrs. Levillier, "all I desire is to be near enough to you in case you are wounded. I will, however, not leave here unless the danger becomes imminent. You will therefore know where to find me." "Well, I must be off. Good bye Mam Tel! Good bye little sister! 248284 6 EIGHT Oil WRONG; A TALE OF WAR AND FAITH. Adieu Mamma;" and stooping, he kissed his mother with that tenderness we use to those we may never see again. "May God and his holy Mother have you in their keeping," Mrs. Levillier murmured, while Rita clung to his neck and cried. Mam Tel had taken pos- session of his hand and was kissing it, 'faut de mieux, " for had he been on level ground, she would not have hesitated to kiss his cheeks as affectionately as she did his hand. Disengaging himself from the loving hands of those who would willingly have detained him, Lieutenant Victor Levillier wheeled his horse, and in a moment was lost to the sight of those loving women, his uniform of blue (the Confederacy had not at the battle of Shiloh as yet furnished all the troops with the gray, since immortalized in song and story), merging quickly with the already lengthening shadows of the forest. Victor Levillier was short of stature, with a clear olive complexion, bril- liant black eyes, and possessed a high strung, yet a calm, almost judicial turn of mind. He had scarcely left college, when at the death of his father he found himself the joint possessor, with mother and sister, of one of the finest plantations on the river, and with characteristic energy, he put aside every other ambition, determined to be their stay and comfort. At an early age his inherited love of military life had manifested itself in his becoming a member of the famous corps in which his father had seen service in Mexico. His ardor and attention to duty soon secured for him the approval of his superior officers, and he was rapidly advanced, until a vacancy occurring in their number, he was chosen to fill it. Scarcely six months had he worn his new honors when came that rending of all former ties; and those dark, days that were to try men's souls and women's patriotism, fell, like a bolt from heaven, upon our Southern land. Victor came to his mother: "Mamma, the artillery h?is offered its services to the Southern Confederacy. You know what I should like to do. — What shall I do? For a moment Mrs. Levillier was silent. Every fiber of her heart called out to her to keep her son. EIGHT OB WEONG; A TALE OF WAR AND FAITH, T "My child," she said at last, "even exacting France leaves the widow her only son." "You are speaking of conscripts, Mother, not of a gentilhomme, " Victor replied bitterly, "Think you, had my great grandfather De Noyan listened to the voice of those who cry, 'sauve qui peut,' he would have thrown away his sure chances of escape to share the ignominious fate the butcher, O'Eeilly, meted out to him and his companions? Mamma, Mamma! I have been a play soldier so long, do not make me a recreant now, that duty calls!" and Victor threw himself beside his mother's knees, and buried his face in her lap, as he had so often done when pleading for some boyish escapade. Mrs. Levillier put her hand on his head and stroked it with a loving t«uch. At last she spoke — ^"Forgive me, my child, I have listened to the promptings of my selfish heart. You are right. Liberty is your birthright. She calls and you must obey.. Go, my son, I need not say keep your sword untarnished, us you received it from your father." Victor rose, and bending over, kissed his mother and said simply, "Thank you. Mamma." Then after a moment given to the deep emotion, which both felt, he said, "Jean has always been a trustworthy overseer; the hands obey him will- dngly, — Besides, I have every hope that my absence will not be for long. In fiact, every one says that ninety days will see the war ended. So don't worry, ' ' So it was settled and the only condition Mrs. Levillier imposed was that Jean Meaux should be left in entire charge of the plantation, while she, Laurita and Mam Tel should follow at a safe distance, so that they could be near in case Victor should be wounded or fall sick. It was thus that on the eve of the 6th of April, 1862, Mrs. Levillier, Eita. and Mam Tel found themselves in a cottage on the banks of Lick Creek, which at this point made a long bend in an easterly direction, away from Shiloh Church, the center of both Federal and Confederate military activity. All day, the tramp of the infantry — the rumbling of the artillery over the bark roads, as the different commands made their way to points selected by Beauregard himself — the hoofs of the cavalry in the direction of Monterey, as; 8 BIGHT OR WRONG; A TALE OF WAR AND FAITH. they followed the movements of Breckenridge 's and Hardee's divisions, all brought terror to the three women, while each, by pretending to follow her usual occupation, tried to reassure the others. Mrs. Levillier sat in a low rocker, overlooking the household linen, but her hands were oftener crossed idly on her lap, while the repressed tears in her dark eyes emphasized her attitude of quiet resignation to the inevitable. Mrs. Levillier showed in her small stature, her delicate hands and feet, her black hair and eyes, and her usual vivaciousness, the admixture of French and Spanish blood, of which she was so justly proud. A coward when those she loved were in danger, she knew not the meaning of fear where the danger threatened only herself. It was this that had dictated her answer to her son when he urged her to seek safety. In a word, she was a perfect type of that noble race, brave, ambitioiis, intellectual, whose watchword was duty, the old race of Louisiana Creoles.* Laurita, shortened by loving friends into Rita, was a blonde counterpart of her mother. Her eyes were grey, but when she was moved by strong emotion they gave the impression of being no less dark than her mother's. Every clear cut feather reflected her passing mood, changing swiftly from "grave to gay, from lively to severe." Her complexion was of that rare and exquisite tint over which the sun seems to have no power. She was quick and sympathetic, yet often overzealous and unreasoning in any cause she espoused. Impulsive and loyal to a fault she was the embodiment of a bright, happy girl- hood, which only knows care through hearsay, yet when trial comes, rises to the heights of self-abnegation, and is unswerving in the path of right and duty. All day she sat bending over some delicate embroidery, waiting anxiously. * It is rather amusing to those familiar witih the meaning of the word "Creole," as giren in Webster's Dictionary, to say nothing of the personal knowledge of native Louisianians, that a Creole is a child of French and Spanish parents, bom in the colonies, to hear Mr. CSible quoted for the paeudo "fact" that Creole means a person apparently of white blood, but smeared with the tar- brush, viz: with an admixture of African blood. Since 1803, when Louisiana was sold to the United States, and consequently ceased to be a colony, there are no true Creoles, but only their deacendants, until We have come to use the word as an adjective in the sense of native to the manor-bom, and we say a Creole negro, a Creole horse or cow, Creole eggs, etc. EIGHT OR WEONG; A TALE OF WAR AND FAITH. 9 until, just before Victor's appearance, unable to bear ttie suspense, she threw down her work, and paced anxiously up and down the room, stopping now and then to peer eagerly into the shadowy spaces that spread in front of her. It was therefore she, who had first seen and hurried to meet him, even before he gave the first call. i Mam Tel, the other occupant of the room who had as eagerly answered the young officer's summons, was a small, stout woman of a gingerbread color^' with rather regular features, for one of her race. It was not this, however, which made her beautiful in the eyes of her mistress, but rather the impress of all those good qualities which made her a faithful servant, a true and devoted friend, a type of that race, slaves, yet honored examples of which, no rara avis in the days of which we write, are now as extinct as the dodo. Mam Tel wore her "tignon," or head handkerchief of bright madras, tied in a;n intricate fashion, high over her head, a little back from her forehead, displaying on each side, locks of well kept wavy hair. As a rule, she wore dresses of blue guinea prints with white kerchief and apron, exchanged on state occasions and on Sundays for a cashmere dress, black silk apron and lace kerchief. Her manners to her masters were that strange admixture of humility and familiarity, of love, esteem and deference, which is indescribable and incon- ceivable to those who never witnessed the close relations of mistress and maid, of nurse and nurslings, in Southern homes. She was as fond of Victor and Rita as if they had been her very own; often discovering their little escapades, and striving to undo the mischief, without appeal to the higher authority of father or mother, as long as it was a childish fault that in no way trespassed on morals or was likely to affect their future either physically or morally, but inexorable in her chiding at any infringement of her code of ethics, strictly modeled on that of her superiors. On the other hand, her authority over the children was never questioned by them or their parents. Her word was also absolute over the other slaves of the household, the younger ones being initiated by her into the mysteries of Creole cooking, in which she excelled, and in the proper doing up of household 10 EIGHT OR WRONG; A TALE OF WAR AND FAITH. linen and dainty garments. To her tbey came as pupils, and none had reason to complain who gave the proper attention to her instructions; and, with rare perception, she quickly decided the department of the household to which they were best fitted. To her were entrusted all the valuables, whether intrinsic or sentimental. In a word, her authority was absolute, subject to no question except by master or mistress, who felt for her an affection that time had only increased and strengthened. Therefore, when the question of following Victor became para- mount to everything else. Mam Tel, asking no question, ready to share the fortunes of war with those she loved, prepared her own belongings as well as those of Mrs. Levillier and Rita. If Mam Tel was startled by the plain surroundings by which she saw her mistress so suddenly encompassed, and to which, truth to tell, she herself was little accustomed, she said nothing, but went to work to make the room that mother and daughter occupied, as bright and comfortable as possible, and refused any other accommodations for herself than a pallet on the floor of an adjoining closet, declaring that she could not sleep if she thought her mistress might need her during the night. She probably knew nothing of the causes of the war, that was eventually to free her race, and cared only for the discomforts and suffering of the people she loved, and hated the "Yankees," as she called them, as the cause of all this change and misery. She shared, in common with all negroes, an utter contempt for ' ' poor white trash," but with her this meant not so much lack of money, as of pedigree, and it needed all Mrs. Levillier 's express command to restrain her open contempt and disapproval of the primitive manners of the good woman, in whose clean, if plain home, Mrs. Levillier was only too glad to find shelter. Mrs. Frawley had not been blind to this antagonism, nor slow to resent it, in a covert way, once confiding to a neighbor that she had no use for a "nigger" who put on more airs than her madam, and wanted to teach her how to cook. Lately the latter point had evidently been conceded, and Mrs. Levillier was a little at a loss to account for this change, until one evening the same EIGHT OE WEONG; A TALE OF WAE AND FAITH. H neighbor called, and asked Mrs. Frawley, in a voice subdued to a stage whisper, and which was easily heard by Mrs. Levillier, sitting on the front gallery, "Well, sister Frawley, how's you and that sassy nigger making out now?" "Not as bad as we uster was, sister Brown. I tell you she can make some- thing out of nothing, better 'n anybody you ever did see. . She takes them big bull frogs and mud turtles, and makes a cooking up that do taste first rate. And she went off the other day, and gathered up a lot of weeds, such as pursley and sassafras leaves, and if she didn't make something that tasted just as good as pork and greens." "Ain't you feared to eat them messes?" "I was at first, but when I saw her madam and herself eat them, I knowed there wasn't nothing agoing to hurt me, so I tried a little bit, and I'm sure I aint sorry for it these hard times. And she can make the beatenest biscuits without salaratus! and such coffee! I tell you sister Brown, the grounds that nigger leaves in that coffee pot of theirs makes me a fine lot of biled coffee with just tke help of a little parched taters." "Seems to me they could give you some of their 's," grumbled sister* Brown. * ' Well, now, they 's open handed with their stuff, but t 'aint nat 'ral to think they can give enough to give Ike and his friends all they wants, when they can get off from sojering. Ike'd have too many friends, if it wasn't that the Madame is a great friend of the General and all the big folks, and most every day some officer drops in to dinner, and skeers the boys off — for which I'm mighty thankful. The old woman says they're big people down in Orleans and I don't mistrust it, for the pile of stuff that comes up here every week would 'stonish you, sure." "Well, may be they is real ladies, after all, though they don't seem to visit around much," and sister Brown made her adieus. RIGHT OR WRONG; A TALE OF WAR AND FAITH. CHAPTER n. All day, on that eventful 6th of April, the roar and din of battle came to the occupants of Mrs. Frawley's cottage. The air was filled with smoke, shutting off the view in the direction of the battlefield. Shot and shell hissed, shrieked, and crossed each other from opposing batteries. A thousand yards away, they heard the clash of Bragg 's and Anderson's divisions, and the cat like call of the Minnie ball could be distinguished, as a stray bullet buried itself in the surrounding trees, not a hundred yards away. Mrs. Levillier was awakened early by the first skirmishes, preludes of the awful carnage that was to come. Her first care was to kneel, with Rita and Mam Tel in fervent prayer for her loved one and for the souls of those who should fall, whether friend or foe. This done, she began active preparation for any eventuality. Her own desires were to remain where she was, even if there was some danger, but the lives of Rita, Mam Tel and Mrs. Frawley might depend on her decision. She therefore ordered the small skiff, in which Rita often rowed up and down the Lick in search of sport, to be stored with provisions, and such change of apparel as was likely to prove useful. Next, she turned her attention to the arrangement of the house. Cots, which she had ordered, were placed in the small sitting room and spare mat- tresses spread over them. In the dining room, another was rolled carefully and placed in a corner ready to be thrown on the table should necessity occur. Piles of clean bed linen were put, together with undergarments, ready to hand, and last, but not less important, on a small table was the lint and rolls of bandages they had prepared in many a leisure hour. In a word, she gradually converted the house into a much better hospital than those hastily erected on the field; for Mrs. Levillier was an expert nurse, and though she would not admit to herself the possibility of Victor's need of such preparations, she was too sen- sible a woman not to provide against the contingency. EIGHT OE WEONG; A TALE OF WAE AND FAITH. 13. Mrs. Frawley, a tall, raw-boned woman, had been up early, and was trying to follow the daily routine, but showed her nervousness by beginning a half a dozen tasks and completing none. Whenever Mam Tel could spare a moment, she would give a hand, in the hope of getting some breakfast for her mistress,, but it proved uphill work. As the day advanced, Mrs. Frawley 's nervousness, increased. She paced the floor, wringing her hands at one time, the next sitting' and rocking violently to and fro, throwing her apron over her head, and press- ing her hands over her ears, in the vain endeavor of shutting out the fearful tumult of the carnage that was taking place, and in which she saw Ike, her only son, a member of the home company, in a Tennessee regiment, the target for every shot. At times she would break out in some weird songs, learned at camp meet- ings. These in turn were followed by ejaeulatory prayers for God's mercy. In vain Mrs. Levillier, and even Mam Tel, tried to calm her fears and inspire her with some of their own courage and resignation, urging that, in occupation, she would find solace and strength. To all she turned a deaf ear and finally exclaimed, "I tell you I never did have any use for no guns even if 'twan't nothing but birds and wild things they was a shooting at, then how kin I be quiet and them a shooting at my Ike, and you a preaching at me. Anybody can see 't ain't none of your flesh and blood," was her reply to Mam Tel's soft words. "Mars Victor is as dear to me as if he was my own, but if Mr. Ike is going to get hurt, you ought to be ready to do for him. That's what my madam is doing." It was just at this point that a shell came screaming in the direction of the house, crashing through the trees, tearing and rending them as it exploded, and scattering its death-dealing missiles in every direction. A few scattering pieces pattered against the fence and even on the front of the house. Eita clung in terror to her mother, and Mam Tel turned an ashy hue, while Mrs. Frawley, beside herself with fear, cried, "Oh, Madam, let us get away from here! Let us cross the creek as your son told us to do! Come, afore we're all killed, or I will never see my Ike again even if they haven't shot him dead afore this! " 14 EIGHT OR WRONG; A TALE OF WAR AND FAITH. Mam Tel and Rita added their appeal to those of Mrs. Frawley. Mrs. Levillier alone remained calm. "I think," she said, "the greatest danger is probably over, for it seems to me the shouts and firing are becoming less distinct, as if the troops were going towards the Tennessee Eiver. That last shell was, I suspect, the last shot fired haphazard by a retreating force. However, Rita, you can row Mam Tel and Mrs. Frawley across, and Mrs. Frawley will guide you to Mrs. Atkins." "E't ca va pe' fais?" (And what will you do?) said Mam Tel, lapsing into her patois, while Rita threw her arms around her mother, exclaiming, ' ' What, leave you! That is impossible! After all, I'm not afraid now, it was the suddenness of the thing that startled me. The next will find me more pre- pared. ' ' As Mrs. Levillier predicted, the sounds continued to grow fainter and more distant, until as the shadows of night fell, only an occasional volley or shot told that the passions of the combatants were assuaged, if not entirely allayed. As night fell, the rain began to fall in a fine drizzle, which soon inereaseo to a steady downpour. Mrs. Levillier decided that the lamps should not be lit, lest the light should attract stragglers from either army that might pas9 that way. The anxiety and labors of the day were beginning to tell on ail. They had heard nothing from Victor, and the enforced idleness left time for doubts and fears. In vain Mrs. Levillier reasoned that bad news travels fast, and that some friend would find time to let her know if the worst had happened, and if Victor was wounded, she knew he would be sent to her. Suddenly there were footsteps on the gallery, and Mrs. Levillier cautiously looked out. A man pushed staggeringly past her, and a voice exclaimed, ' ' Gooii Lord, but it's good to be home once more!" Though changed somewhat, they all instinctively recognized Ike's voice. Mrs. Frawley threw herself, in an ecstaey of joy, on his breast. "Look out, Mammy, I'se mighty touchy jest now!" he said, as he gently pushed her away, and as the light from the lamp Mam Tel had lit fell on him, all saw that one arm was bandaged as only a surgeon could. His butternut uniform was soaked with rain and blood. He was evidently weak, and staggered as he walked. EIGHT OK WEONG; A TALE OF WAR AND FAITH. 15 Mrs. Frawley suddenly released her hold on him and began crying hysterically, "Oh, my boy! My poor boy!" Mrs. Levillier approached quietly and said soothingly: "You have been wounded, I see, but your wound has already been dressed. Come, Mrs. Frawley, let us get your son to bed. Dry clothes and sleep are now what he needs." "That's right. Ma'am! Mammy, instead of agoing on like that, you oughlj to be glad I ain't a lying out there like many another mother's son, or else so badly used up I couldn't even crawl here. You know. Mam," to Mrs. Levillier, "1 was pulling trigger 'thout knowing much what I was a shooting at, when along comes a bullet a 'meowing at a beautiful rate, and zip! it just ploughed up my arm and out at the shoulder, taking big gobs of flesh, but never breaking nary bone nor nothing, but I wasn't no use after that, so they sent me back to the place where the doctors were hard at work on the poor fellows — and I tell you. Mam, the place made me sick. After a while it come my turn and a young doctor gets a holt of me and 'twant long before he had me fixed all right,' and says I, 'Doc, my mammy lives close to here and she'll take care of me,' and he says, 'All the better, there'll be room for one more, worse hurt than you.' So I gets out and here I am, if 'twas slow work. So, mammy, give me a drink of milk and put me to bed." Eita, in the meantime, had been looking eagerly out in the darkness, hoping that Victor might come as he had the evening before. Her heart was full of fore- bodings. Ike's pale face and Mrs. Frawley 's uncontrolled grief had done much to upset her self-control. Suddenly a faint glimmer attracted her attention, and in an instant, her eyes accustomed to the darkness, made out a group advancing slowly. By the light carried by some one, just ahead of the others, she saw that they were soldiers, and bore, on rude stretchers, formed by their guns, two motionless figures. With a cry that brought Mrs. Levillier and Mam Tel, she ran to meet the coming cortege, and reached it just as it entered the gate. With the cry "Victor! Victor!" she was about throwing herself on the 16 RIGHT OR WRONG; A TALE OF WAR AND FAITH. first body, when she was restrained gently by the man who carried the lantern. "My child, that is not Victor; Victor is unhurt." Mrs. Levillier caught the assurance of Victor's safety and quickly turn- ing, she gave some orders to Mam Tel, and threw the doors open to allow the passage of the stretchers and their insensible burdens. With the aid of the bearers, the clothing of the unconscious men were soon exchanged for the clean, dry ones prepared for them by Mrs. Levillier. A word from her had sent Rita to prepare coffee for those who had fought all day, yet were now uncomplainingly on their rounds of mercy and had converted their weapons, if not into ploughshares and reaping hooks, at least into means of rescue for the unfortunate. Their leader, a thin, delicate looking man, was dressed in such sorry fashion as might easily serve as an outfit for a scarecrow. On his black hair he wore no hat, and his clothing, as well as face, were bespattered with mud and blood, though he was not wounded, yet the dignity of his calling was in no way marred by the disorder of his vesture, and from his dark eyes shone a soul of such exquisite beauty that charity seemed to radiate from every feature. • Father Turgis, for he it was, had that day received his baptism of fire. Ever at the front, he was ready to assist the wounded, or cheer the parting soul with his priestly ministration, and many a poor fellow had died in his arms, while whispering messages for loved ones at home, or asking forgiveness for perchance a life misspent. Chaplain of the Orleans Guards in name, he was chaplain and friend to every boy in grey and more particularly to those who claimed his beloved adopted State as their home. He had all the sturdy virtues of his Breton blood, but charity seemed to overshadow every other. Constantly supplied with clothing by the mothers of the boys under his care, it was no sooner in his possession than it was transferred to those others who had none to provide for them. The open cassock at the throat showed only too plainly that the last remnant of his linen had found its way into the keeping of one whom he deemed more needy than himself. In after years, he never lost that boundless charity. His old comrades never appealed to him in vain, and those who made it a labor of love to see EIGHT OR WRONG; A TALE OF WAR AND FAITH. 17 to his few wants, were often amused at the efforts he made to conceal the fact that the new garments had vanished, and that the tattered remnants of the old, were made to do duty once more. When Mrs. Levillier was satisfied that her charges were as comfortable as circumstances permitted she said to Father Turgis, "Can you give me any further news of my boy, Father, than the thrice welcome one of his safety?" ''Only that he bore himself as you would expect your son to do. Father Brinkhoft was killed almost alongside of him, but he never flinched in his work all day yesterday, and to-night he is in charge of those who are burying the dead, and caring for such as living, yet wounded, are still on the battle- field. Many of my dear boys are dead, many more, grievously wounded. The tide of battle has gone in our favor. Our troops are brave but undisciplined. The Federals are, I understand, receiving more reinforcements, and I know not what the morrow may bring." Eita here interrupted, "Father, who are those officers you have brought; to what regiments do they belong?" "They are Federal officers, left for dead, as our victorious troops pursued their retreating forces." "Federal officers! Oh! Father, why did you not bring some of our own boys! I don't want to care for these, our enemies, when our own need all wo can give." "Child, child! The quality of mercy is not strained! The good Samaritan asked not who was he who stood in need of help. These men are grievously hurt. We cannot spare surgeons, and our hospitals are overcrowded, and to your care they may owe their lives. I know you will do your best," and he laid his hand in benison on the girl's bowed head, and without another word, he and his bearers went once more on their mission of mercy. Eita had bowed in acquiescence to her beloved pastor's exhortation, but in her rebellious heart, she only half responded to his injunctions. Mrs. Levillier 's first care had been, with the help of the men, to get her patients to bed; her next, to examine their wounds. The younger of the two, whose similarity to Victor had, in the half light deceived Eita, showed an ugly 18 EIGHT OK WRONG; A TALE OF WAR AND FAITH. bullet hole in the head just at the junction of the frontal bone with the parietal, •which seemed to extend in both directions in a great welt, red and swollen. iWith gentle, yet dexterous touch, Mrs. Levillier cut away the dark hair full of blood clots, and with soft touches, bathed the bruised and torn parts. Her task accomplished, she called Rita. "Here, my child, sit here and keep the bandages saturated with this lotion. Wounded as he is, the wonder is that he still survives. Perhaps to-morrow 1 may be able to see what puzzles me to-night. We must, however, do our best." On the other cot was stretched the form of a rather tall, well-proportioned man. A deep, ugly cut across the chest, told eloquently that he had been cut down in a cavalry charge, but scarcely explained his unconscious condition. The fine face, shaded by close curling hair, was stained by the dust and dirt of the earth, yet showed no wound, but as Mrs. Levillier studied the bruises about the body, she knew instinctively that he had either fallen under his horse, or had been trampled upon by another. The right leg was in such a distorted position that her quick eye detected that something was wrong, and examinatioa confirmed her worst fears. The leg was broken, not by a bullet but by the weight of some heavy object. For a moment Mrs. Levillier was nonplussed. She had often seen on the plantation the doctor set the limbs of young and old who might have broken leg or arm, but she had little confidence in her own ability to do likewise. Father Turgis had said that no surgeon was accessible. What was to be done? Delays, in such cases, she knew were dangerous. Her choice was soon made. Summoning Mam Tel, she gathered together the necessary accessories, and, with the latter 's assistance, she deftly put her knowledge into practice, and soon tho injured leg was set, splinted and bandaged. She was soon rewarded by seeing the blue eyes of her patient open, and saw, rather than heard, the parched lips frame the word, "water." His thirst al- leviated by a copious draught of cool spring water, he asked in a scarcely audible voice, "Where arii I?" Mrs. Levillier smiled. "In the hands of the enemy," she replied, "yet among friends of the suffering. Do not worry," she added, as she saw the look EIGHT OE WEONG; A TALE OF WAE AND FAITH, 1» of anxiety on his face, "Give me your name, and I will see to it that you get a parole. You shall remain my prisoner as long as you need my care." "Mare Kendrick, Major of the 1st. Pennsylvania Cavalry," he murmured. Eita, meantime, performed her alloted task, changing the cool cloths on the head of the sufferer. Suddenly the thought came to her. "This man may die at any moment; he may never have been baptized," and impulsively she threW' some cool water in the sign of the cross on his head, repeating the words she had learned in her childhood, "I baptize thee, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost, Amen." Mam Tel, relieved of attending on Mrs. Levillier, went promptly to work to remove the wet, blood-soaked clothing. As she lifted one of the garments, her eye fell on a piece of tape neatly sewed on the collar. She held it up for Mrs. Levillier 's inspection, who read: "James Hay ward, Capt. 13th Mass. Eegiment!" "That must be the name of the other poor fellow," she said, pityingly. EIGHT OR WRONG; A TALE OF WAR AND FAITH. CHAPTER III. "€a va pe' fais, Mamselle Rita?" (What are you doing Miss Rita?) Mam Tel always called Rita "Mo Piti" (ray little one) except when she had done something of which her parents or Mam Tel herself disapproved. Rita, therefore, knew in this instance that there was something amiss, and perhaps shrewdly suspected that her friendly manners with the two Federal officers had probably incurred Mam Tel's displeasure, there was therefore a certain lack of candor in the query. "Well, what have I done now?" * ' You know very well, Miss Rita. You know neither your father nor brother would think it right for you to be laughing and joking and rolling your eyes up and down, first at Major Kendrick, then at Captain Hayward. It does look awful for a young lady like you to be flirting with two young men, who come from nobody knows where, and who she ought to treat like what they are, the enemies of her country." "Father Turgis said I was to be kind to my enemies," Rita replied mis- chievously, "and I'm only trying to make time pleasant for them until they are exchanged — I'm sure there's no harm in that." "No, I suppose not," Mam Tel replied dubiously, "but all the same I'm worried. Your pa, would turn in his grave if he thought you could be thinking of marrying somebody who may be a nobody, just because, for charity's sake, you helped nurse them. I don't know what your ma is thinking about! " The two stood on the front gallery, close to the room occupied by the two prisoners. The conversation was carried on in patois. Mam Tel was in terrible earnest, Rita in a badgering mood. The idea of marriage with either had never occurred to her. Full of life and vivacity, and thrown into such intimate rela- tions with the two young men, it was impossible for her to assume an aloofness she had not felt, since she expressed the first regret that their care should be given to aliens instead of friends. RIGHT OR WRONG; A TALE OF WAR AND FAITH. 21 Captain Hayward's wounds, on examination, the day after the battle, had proved far from serious, though extremely curious. A spent ball had struck him just above the frontal bone, circled the skull, and emerged close to where it had entered, making an ugly-looking flesh wound and stunning him for several hours. But, ugly as it looked, it soon yielded to simple treatment. True to her promise, Mrs. Levillier, through Father Turgis, had obtained a parole for both. For the present, she found it impossible to leave Mrs. Frawley's house to follow Victor in the face of the uncertainty of the movements of the army after the reverses of the second day's battle that had so completely nullified the victory of the previous day. Major Kendrick was still helpless. The fractured leg, knitting as quickly as could be expected, still kept him confined to his room, while Captain Hayward was now fully recovered and enjoyed every movement of his enforced inactivity in the pleasant study of the bright, lovely girl chance had brought in his way. He could not, however, in his self -communings, feel that he made any progress in her favor. She read, sang, played with equal impartiality for him or the Major. The latter seemed unwilling to discuss her in any way, con- sequently he was totally at a loss to know whether the Major shared his admira- tion for their pretty nurse, and no effort on his part had been rewarded with any admission of his feelings, one way or the other, until this present instant the Major's face suddenly became dark with anger or disapproval as Rita, sobered by Mam Tel's allusion to her father, said in French: "Do not fear for me. Mam Tel. Both you and Mamma can rest easy, for I will promise you that I will never marry either Major Kendrick or Captain Hayward unless one or the other is prepared to become a Catholic and resign his commission in the army," and amused by the very absurdity of the condi- tions, Rita broke out into that clear, wholesome, infectious laughter that can only come to the lips of those to whom sorrow, repentance and care are un- known. Still laughing at Mam Tel's useless warning, Rita turned at the open door to resume the reading that had become her daily task since Major Kendrick 's wounds had allowed it, and met a frown of disproval on the Major's face, while an amused smile played around the corners of Captain Hayward 's mouth. 22 EIGHT OR WRONG; A TALE OF WAR AND FAITH. "Let us have the benefit of the joke, MiS8 Ritaf" was Captain Hajward'a greeting, "No indeed, it's too good to share with anybody," Eita laughingly replied. "By the way, I don't believe you'd think it half so funny if you only knew." "Try us and let us be the judges." "Nay, nay," and again Eita laughed merrily. Then suddenly Major Kendrick's frowning face and the lurking smile in the Captain's eyes, hushed the laughter on her lips. It had never occurred to her to ask the young men if either understood French, and all at once the bare thought that either had understood her last words to Mam Tel brought such confusion that she scarcely read intelligently, and finally throwing down the book, she asked abruptly: "Do you understand French, Captain Hayward?" "Well," he said drawling the words out purposely, "you know there's French and French. I was considered a fair French scholar at college and tiattered myself I could hold my own in a French salon as well as the next, but your mother's and your own voluble torrent of French has completely robbed me of the sweet illusion, and if in the avalanche of words I catch an estray now and then, I am content, — but in all truth, your French is beyond me, and as to your jargon, it is as unintelligible as Sanscrit or Choctaw or any other unknown tongue. So, you see, I am at your mercy. Spare me if you can." "Which shall I spare, your vanity or your blushes?" retorted Eita now at her ease once more. "My blushes, of course. I can't think so ill of myself as to suppose there could be any necessity for caution on the other score. But, after all, your question implies, on your part, the thought that there may be a necessity for the practice of that broad cloak that covers a multitude of sins. Pray let me alter my petition. Belittle me in French, for where ignorance is bliss t'were folly to be wise, but bespeak me fair in my mother tongue." "You should have reserved the quotation for the last, Captain Hayward." "I am sure Major Kendrick and I appreciate the compliment." "Major Kendrick was not under discussion" Eita quickly replied, "he has never put in a plea." BIGHT OE WEONG; A TALE OF WAK AND FAITH. 23 "Hia prayer shall be answered who asks for nothing," misquoted the Major smilingly, — "Captain Hayward is more likely to put the 'Ask and you shall receive ' to the test. I am out of the running. ' ' Major Kendrick's significant looks even more than th« words gave Kita considerable uneasiness. It was the first time that her intercourse with either had gone beyond the most impersonal badinage on all live issues. Perhaps it was self consciousness of what Mam Tel had said that made her sensitive to what, after all, might be only a coincidence, but not caring to probe the fact, she quickly resumed her reading, until Mam Tel announced dinner. No sooner alone, both men laughed heartily. Major Kendrick asked: "Did you understand what was said on the gallery?" "No, for once I told the truth, though I should have done the reverse if it had been necessary. Written, I might have translated it, — spoken, it was all Greek to me, except the fact that we were evidently the subject of the dis- cussion." "Then why did you embarrass her by your meaning smiles?" ' * SiiMply to amuse myself by leading her to believe that I had really under- stood the joke she hugely enjoyed. 'By the same token,' as Sergeant Dooley says, was it so uncomplimentary that it brought the frown on your classic features, or was it because you, like myself, failed to grasp the meaning of the whole byplay?" "Not at all. Miss Levillier's French is too correct to be misunderstood and her reply gave me the key to the old woman's remonstrances." "I take it, then, that it was far from complimentary to either of us." "Far from it, for it showed that Miss Levillier thought both incapable of accepting her ultimatum — Marriage with either of us on the only terms she could accept." "Nobody asked you. Miss," hummed the Captain. "Nor did she intimate that possibility. The old woman doesn't hold us in high esteem, and warned her of her peril, and her reply was to reassure her black Mammy that her fears were entirely groundless, as she knew neither of us would pay the price, even to win the prize, her own sweet self." "And pray, what was the price?" 24 RIGHT OR WRONG; A TALE OF WAR AND FAITH. "Resignation from the army and acceptance of the Catholic faith." "Whewl she doesn't rate herself high, does she?" "No price, save honor, is too high to pay for one who within herself holds the gifts of beauty, intelligence, truth, a loving heart, and a soul as sweet and pure as an angel! A child in worldly wisdom, judging others by her own standards, underestimating her own value, she is likely to fall a victim to some unprincipled scoundrel, who will never appreciate the treasure he haa won. ' ' "Perhaps Major Kendrick can save her from such a fate," eneeringly remarked the Captain. For a moment Major Kendrick 'b face gr«w dark with anger, then he quietly replied. "There, let the subject drop once and for all. By every instinct of manly gratitude, and by every law of hospitality. Miss Levillier's name should never be the subject of banter, or of unfavorable comment between us. She is a vis- ionary, an enthusiast, I had almost said, a fanatic on the subject of this war, and is deeply imbued with religious zeal, and I believe her capable of accepting the terms we accidentally overheard, if she was convinced that duty led the way," and Major Kendrick picked up the book she had laid down with the resolute air of a man to whom the subject is closed for all time. Soon after dinner, Rita strolled to the creek. Mam Tel's words had brought her face to face with a question until then a closed book. Despite Captain Hayward's denial, there lingered the fear that he had overheard and understood her words, and her cheeks burned with maiden shame that she had been betrayed into expressing a willingness, ever so remote, of accepting what had never been offered to her. Though she might never be put to the test, yet she involuntarily found herself contrasting the two young men. Major Kendrick, at such time as his suffering allowed him to mingle in the conversation, showed himself a man of strong character, calm, dispassionate, measuring everything by the rigid and unswerving standard, not as to what was most expedient, but what was right. Calm and deliberate in argument, he often treated her with the same gentleness and forbearance one uses to a way- • EIGHT OR WRONG; A TALE OF WAR AND FAITH. 25 ward child, when out of perversity, she sought to uphold some argument in opposition, not only to his, but to her own convictions, laughingly admitting her- self vanquished, or obstinately making the worst appear the better reason, for the mere pleasure of watching the varied expressions of wonder or amusement with which every discussion ended. Reviewing his steadfastness, his high ideals of honor and truth, and of the right as he saw it, she felt safe that he would never take advantage of her foolinh indiscretion, even if he had under- stood her promise to Mam Tel. Captain Hayward's strong resemblance to Victor from the first had drawn her to him as he lay pale and, as she thought, dying. As he rallied from his really slight wound, his lively boyish temperament accorded so well with her own, that very soon they drifted into a quasi friendship, that in spite of her better judgment, was very pleasant, serving to while away many an hour which, other- wise, would have been fraught with anxiety. If, at times, he startled her by some atheistic opinion, or by some expressed belief entirely at variance with her code of morals or ethics, he quickly atoned for it by laughingly recanting, and professing only to have triel her convictions, or by admitting himself van- quished whenever she took up the gauntlet. "You know. Miss Rita," he said one day, "there is nothing I like better than to bring that look of indignation to your face, and see those eyes snap and shine with righteous wrath. It's worth painting myself blacker than I am to hear you defend church and state so zealously. You are a loyal little girll I wonder if you, at some future day, will be as loyal to the man you marry." "Probably," Rita replied, annoyed at the personal turn the conversation had taken. "The man I marry will have won my respect and perfect faith as well as my love, consequently that will be a matter of sequence, as fruit fol- lows blossom." "Blossoms brightest are soonest blighted" Captain Hayward said senten- tiously. "Then what?" "Then I suppose," laughingly replied Rita, "I will have to call to my aid the two bears of our escutcheon, which as grandmother always explained 26 EIGHT OR WRONG; A TALE OF WAR AND FAITH. to me, in answer to my insistent childish curiosity as to their meaning, were 'Bear and Forbear,' two very essential adjuncts to a peaceful household." "I think very likely you will have to practice what you preach, for your idol or ideal is very apt to prove of the earth, earthy, and not likely to measure up to your romantic standards." "Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof. May I never be found wanting when the test comes," and to avoid further discussion, Rita had suddenly left the room. As Rita recalled these incidents, she was forced to admit that Major Kendrick's characteristics were those most calculated to inspire and retain confidence, but after all, she reasoned, Captain Hayward was as little likely to accept terms of which he knew nothing as the Major, and she really had no right to judge him by opinions he himself claimed, were only jests, employed to strike fire from the steel of her indignation and keen wit. Reassured by this review of the young men's character, as she thought she knew them, she smilingly retraced her steps, soothed by the reflection that she had foolishl;^ attempted to cross a bridge that she would never even reach. EIGHT OR WEONG; A TALE OF WAE AND FAITH. CHAPTEE IV. "Miss Eita, I am prepared to pay the penalty." It was some three weeks subsequent to Mam Tel's warning and Eita had almost forgotten the episode. She was standing in the yard under the shadow of the immense oak, examining the pieces of shell embedded in the venerable trunk. At the sound of the voice, she turned quickly to face Captain Hay- ward. "Oh! Captain Hayward, who can assess the penalty for the cruel wounds to this venerable giant, hurt almost to its very heart by the ruthless folly of man! Who can measure its grief or restore its tranquility in the face of this fratricidal war?" "Nay, Miss Eita, I had no reference to this tree, I can assure you. I think you are begging the question. However, perhaps it would be more correct to say that I am not only willing but anxious to accept those conditions you de- clared were a sine qua non to the winning of what I hold far more precious than life itself." Eita looked up quickly. "Then you do understand French?" "I told you the truth. I did not understand what you said, but Major Kendrick did." Eita covered her face, now aflame with the blush of modesty and shame, with both hands. "What must you both have thought of me," she cried. "Not one unkind thought, nor one that did not hold you in deepest rev- erence. ' ' "Can Major Kendrick and yourself ever overlook my foolish, foolish speech to Mam Tel?" "As for Major Kendrick," Captain Hayward said, stung by a fierce jeal- ousy that she should mention the Major's name before his, "I cannot go be- yond- his spoken word, but as to myself, I can but bless Mam Tel 's fond solicitude 28 EIGHT OR WRONG; A TALE OF WAR AND FAITH. that provoked from you the assurance that there might be a possibility of secur- ing my heart's desire, and, for the sake of that hope, I willingly reverse the scriptural injunction and gladly accept your people and your God. Tell me, Rita, is it in vain?" For the moment Captain Hayward was deeply moved. He was not ignorant of the gravity of the step he was taking as far as his resignation from the army was concerned, but his was not the lofty patriotism that inspires men to do and die, if necessary, for their fatherland. He had entered the army be- cause it seemed at the time, the right thing to do, and gave him prestige, but a year of camp life had sapped his enthusiasm pretty thoroughly, and he wel- comed any reason that would take him back to ease and comfort, even though he foresaw that the road might, at first, be a little thorny; yet he was fully persuaded, and meant Rita to feel, that he was making an heroic sacrifice for the sake of this girl who baffled all his theories of women, and filled the ideals that he once held. As to the religious change demanded, he scarcely gave it a thought. Ac- customed as he was to the easy methods of conversion in the Evangelical churches, he was utterly ignorant of the requirements the Catholic Church makes of her catechumens, and thought that a simple declaration of his intentions, or at most, some slight ceremonial to which he could subscribe without trouble, would sufiS.ce. Bita, on the other hand, was profoundly impressed by the apparent self- sacrifice this man was willing to make for her sake. Young, impulsive, viewing everything by the light of her inexperience, the situation presented to her was not one of love for this man, but a feeling of profound gratitude that she was able to win a soul for Heaven and remove a brave combatant from the ranks of her country's foes; she was, therefore, sorely tempted to yield to his pleadings, yet shrank, unaccountably to herself, to admit it, either to herself or to him. Captain Hayward waited quietly, watching the varying expressions of her face, as every new thought and feeling was mirrored there. He read, without effort, wonder, hesitation, mistrust of herself and of him, and his confidence in his success grew less, while his desire was proportionately greater. He had not EIGHT OR WEONG; A TALE OF WAR AND FAITH. 29 expected that she would yield quickly or unreservedly to his plea, but he had not anticipated any prolonged resistance, and her continued silence both pro- voked and alarmed him. "What is it, Rita?" he asked abruptly, "You surely cannot ask more, nor mistrust a man who is willing to give such proof of his loyalty to you as that I am giving. I come from Puritan ancestry, and yet accept the faith that waa to them most abhorrent I defy any one to say that Captain Hay ward has not earned well of his coumry by devotion to her cause, nor borne himself un- worthily on her bloodiest battle fields, yet I am willing to forego honor, pro- motion, the approval of men, for the sake of the one woman before whom I have ever stood abashed or hesitant. Are you such a child or such a heartless coquette that you fail to measure the depth of such devotion?" "It is the very height and depth of such a sacrifice that appals me, and makes me hesitate to accept it, lest I prove all unworthy, and that the day may come when you will regret it. ' ' "On my head be the consequences, my darling!" cried the Captain, and without waiting for a more formal acceptance, forgetting time and place, ho clasped her, despite her resistance, in his arms. "Promise me," he urged. "I promise," barely whispered the agitated girl. "May tno pas croire ca ma pe oir! Sa mo dis vous, Mamsel Rita!" ("Well, I can't believe what I see! What did I tell you. Miss Rita?") and Mam Tel, scarcely restraining her indignation, ran around the corner of the house just as Rita disengaged herself from the Captain's unexpected caress. Mam Tel 's evident disapproval of himself, her air of indignation and disgust, proved too much for the Captain's keen sense of the ridiculous, and he laughed immoderately. "Why, old woman, what's the matter with you- Don't you approve of me?" he asked, after convincing himself that Rita had fled precipitately. "No, I don't, if you mean to ask me if you're good enough for my babyl God didn't give me any children of my own, but my Madame 's babies have took their place, and I tells you there ain't the man living I think good enough for Mamselle Rita." 30 EIGHT OR WRONG; A TALE OF WAR AND FAITH. "Them's my sentiments exactly, so we -won't quarrel on that score, old lady! But since I acknowledge that much, suppose you admit that I'm as good, or a little better t^an most men, and that is about all you can expect." Mam Tel gave a grunt that might be acquiescence or denial, then said pointedly: "The man that marriea my child has to take me to look after her, for she's such a baby, and never waited on herself in her life," she added diplo- matically with the new-born caution that feared its own undoing, "and ain't agoing to do it now, if I kin help it. Some people can throw dust in her eyes, but mine are too old to be easily fooled," she added in a lower tone. "Oh! that's all right! I'm willing to promise anything, if I can only marry your young mistress. So it's a bargain." "People too quick to make promises is generally as quick to break them," muttered Mam Tel aa she left the smiling Captain. "I wonder how this interview with Mam Tel would tally with most of our northern ideas of the down trodden slave," and again the absurdity of the whole situation moved him to laughter. In the meantime, Rita had sought her mother, half afraid of the effect the news would have on her. Rita had never before hesitated to admit her childish peccadilloes and shared every thought and impression of her girlhood with her mother, sometimes tenaciously holding, for a time, to her own opinions, but in- variably yielding to her mother's greater experience. Their life had, therefore, been the ideal one of maternal and filial reciprocal trust and affection, and for the first time the girl felt that there had arisen a question that might, perhaps, lead to a parting of the ways. "Mamma," Rita whispered, as she encircled her mother's waist and hid her face on her mother's neck, "I have something to tell you." "Nothing very naughty, I trust." Mrs. Levillier laughingly said as she kissed the upturned, crimson cheek. "That is as you will decide, dearest mother." "Well, what is it, child?" Mrs. Levillier was, in an instant, sobered by the premonition of coming evil. "I have promised to marry Captain Hayward." EIGHT OR WRONG; A TALE OF WAR AND FAITH. 31 "Oh! my child, my darling child! iou certainly have not taken such a grave step without proper consideration of the weighty reasons that should ap- peal to your good sense and judgment against it?" Eita remained silent. ' "What do you know of this man into whose keeping you are giving your happiness, your future for good or evil, your very life itself? In worldly wisdom you are more of a child than even your years would warrant. You have been sheltered from all knowledge of the evil of the world. What can you know of love, who until these strangers came, were a mere child, a willing sub jet to authority? What do you realize of the cares and responsibilities of that life, which, sweetened by love, is at best self sacrifice, and can only survive the first glamour when sustained by mutual forbearance in small as in great matters, for it is often the pinpricks of life, the narrow details of daily routine that try our patience and our tempers." "But, Mamma," ventured Rita, "have we not for the last two months been in daily contact? Have we not tried each other in argument, discussed our tastes and inclinations, and found no such irreconcilable differences as you seem to fear." "Because, probably, you both were restrained by social amenities, and the feeling, on your side, that he was your guest and, in one sense, your prisoner; en his, that he owed you a debt of gratitude and that, as he thought himself in love with you, it behooved him to appear in your eyea just as you might wish him to appear. But marriage would soon put an end to all such sophistry and innocent deception. You would see things as they really exist. Equals in all things, yet moving in different orbits, he the provider, you the dispenser, his the apparently wider scope, yet yours none the less far reaching as the home- maker and the mother of coming generations. I know nothing that illustrates the separate yet undivided relations of husband and wife as the hands of the clock. Moved by the same motive power, controlled by the same springs of action, yet acting in very distinct paths, one traveling in a wide circle, the other, restricted to an apparently narrow space, peace and harmony the reward of order and regularity, confusion and error when action goes astray. I ask 32 EIGHT OR WRONG; A TALE OF WAR AND FAITH. you again, my child, what do you know of this man, of his antecedents, his habits of life, his tastes, to say nothing of his morals T" "He resembles my own brother so much, Mamma, I feel sure he must be like him in other respects." Mrs. Levillier smiled in spite of the gravity of the situation. "Those words tell me as nothing else could, how little you realize the true meaning of the affection a woman ought to feel for the man she is to marry. He should stand preeminent in your heart and mind, all others should be compared to him, not he to them." "But, Mamma, this love you talk about, it seems to me, ought to be only a ftecondary consideration to the motives that actuate me. Do you realize what Captain Hay ward is willing to do for my sake?" Mrs. Levillier looked astonished, then puzzled. "EeaUy, I cannot say that I do. It seems to me you are the one making all the sacrifices." "Not so, mother dear, for Captain Hayward has promised to become a Catholic and to resign from the army. Can you conceive of greater self abnega- tion than that, and cannot you understand my pride and self congratulations that I, a poor, helpless woman, can accomplish so much for church and state?" Mrs. Levillier looked grave. Here was a side of the question she had not anticipated. She knew Rita's exalted patriotism and warm faith, and in an instant realized that, with her inexperienced child, such considerations would be hard to combat successfully. "My dear Rita, the very reasons you give me are but added arguments against your marriage to Captain Hayward. A man who yields, so readily, what should be to an honorable man, the most vital questions of his life, is one who, I fear, cannot be trusted. Oh, my child! my child! do not allow your fervid yet mistaken, loyalty, to lead you into taking a false step that may put your happiness in this world, and even in the next, in jeopardy. Think, pray, save yourself, if not me, from sorrow, bitter and undying," and Mrs. Levillier gathered the unresisting girl to her arms, and tears, the saddest that can fall EIGHT OE WEONG; A TALE OF WAE AND FAITH. 33 from a mother's eyes, as she knows for the first time, that her child has passed forever from her sheltering arms, and she can no longer avert the impending blows of fate from her beloved, fell on the dark head pressed against her heart. Both remained silent, each busy with her own thoughts, then Eita raised her head, and as her eyes met her mother's anxious look, Mrs. Levillier knew she had lost the good fight even before Eita said: "Mamma dear, forgive me if I do not see as you do, but I have promised, and the word of a Levillier is never idly broken. Be it for weal or woe, I must abide by it. Do not make it too hard for me." EIGHT OR WRONG; A TALE OF WAB AND FAITH. CHAPTER V. The wedding preparations were going forward slowly, even Rita sharing in the apathy Mrs, Levillier and Mam Tel showed so plainly. Victor had added his protest by letter to his sister, urging the same reasons given by his mother, and, going further, had declared that when the time came, even could he secure a furlough, he would not sanction, by his presence, such folly on her part. Father Turgis, alone, had spoken some words of comfort in answer to her brief note, telling him the news, and begging that he would come to marry her. He urged her to so instruct her future husband that he might be a true soldier of the Church, prepared to enlist under her banners, when he came to unite them in the bond that only death could sever. Mrs. Levillier had hoped much from Father Turgis' advice and influence, and felt sure that he had received a false impression of Captain Hayward's conversion. But communication with the distant and uncertain stations in which Father Turgis was placed, made any exchange of letters very uncertain, so she bowed her head in resignation to the inevitable. Mam Tel was much harder to convince of its inevitability, and strongly, yet respectfully, urged Mrs. Levillier to take a firm stand with Rita. "Madam, why don't you put your foot down, and just tell Miss Rita she can't marry that Yankee man. I tell you, I don't trust him! Miss Rita's got blinkers on; she can't look nowhere but along her own nose . Anyhow, you just might as well expect a mouse to run away from a cat when that cat's got his paw on it. He don't let her forget her word, not a minute, I tells you, 'till she thinks she's as good as married to him already, but if you'd just send him about his business. Miss Rita would come to her senses, and thank you some day for 'bleeging her to do as you say." "There's perhaps some truth in what you say, Mam Tel, but I know Rita's RIGHT OR WRONG; A TALE OF WAR AND FAITH. 35 temperament better than you do, opposition would surely make matters worse. Besides, I have always held that marriage was an entirely personal question and that fathers and mothers have no right to do more than point out the pos- sible consequences of such a step, and let their children decide. I have taken such information as I could from Major Kendrick as to Captain Hayward's social position. I have seen no overt act on his part that could open Rita's eyes by confirming our suspicions, so I am helpless." Man Tel generally went off, after one of these arguments, silenced but un- convinced, only to renew the subject at the next opportunity. Rumors of an exchange of prisoners had reached them, and both Major Kendrick and Captain Hayward rejoiced at the prospect, as it was necessary that Captain Hayward 's resignation should come after the exchange. As to Major Kendrick, the situation had become unbearable. In the secret recesses of his heart, he had cherished the hope that, perhaps, some day, when the whirl of war was passed, its animosities and antagonisms calmed, he might win the impulsive, large-hearted child. And now, to stand by and see her, blinded by her foolish fanaticism, yield herself to a man he so thoroughly mistrusted as he did Captain Hayward, was more than he could bear, yet he realized his utter helplessness. One day Captain Hayward and Rita were discussing the battle and odd incidents connected therewith. "Honest, were you not frightened?" asked Rita roguishly, then she added quickly, "Of course, I don't mean that, exactly, but did you think of death, the hereafter and all it implies, in the thick of the fight." Captain Hayward smiled as her manner grew more solemn. "Can't say I did; all the prayers I knew, 'Now I lay me down to sleep,' didn't seem very appropriate to the occasion." "Surely you know the Lord's prayer!" "Well, perhaps if I'd think right hard, I might pass muster, but to tell you the truth, I am afraid I did more cursing than praying." Rita looked properly horrified. 36 RIGHT OR WRONG; A TALE OF WAR AND FAITH. "There, little saint, don't look that way! I'm ready to learn all the prayers in the prayer book if only you'll be my teacher. Is it a bargain?" "Why that is a matter of course. Shall I begin now?" "Anything to please the child." "Our Father," began Rita, then stopped suddenly. "What! caught in your own trap. You've forgotten as well as I." "Indeed, I have not," indignantly. "But do you know I never say that prayer in English." "No, what then!" "In Trench." "Explain. Isn't English good enough for you?" "How absurd! I suppose if I had not learned it first in French, I might have been satisfied with English, but" — Rita hesitated. "Go on! what is it?" "Well, I never could bring myself to say. 'Lead me not into temptation.' I cannot conceive of a father leading his child into temptation, much less the Godhead, his poor creatures. Now, in French we say, 'Let us not faU into temptation;' and that is as it should be." Captain Hay ward's eyes twinkled mischievously, but he kept a serious face, enjoying to the full probing into this sensitive conscience, whose every im- pulse afforded him infinite delight and amusement, even though at times it startled him uncomfortably to find that her artless avowals aroused within him promptings to good, which he believed had long ago perished. ' ' Oh, you little heretic ! " he cried reprovingly. "Don't say that please! It seems to me there can be no great wrong in preferring French to English. After all, prayer has no language. It is the silent outpouring of the soul, the voiceless language of the creature to the Creator, and when it finds outward expression, surely it cannot be a grave nmtter which, of the thousand tongues bom at the confusion of Babel, we employ. So I use the one that accords best, in my mind, with the attributes of the Godhead." "Are you not treading on dangerous ground, arrogating to yourself the EIGHT OR WRONG; A TALE OF WAR AND FAITH. 37 right to question the teachings of the Catholie Church?" asked the Captain hypocritically, scarcely suppressing his amusement. "1 think not. The Church teaches the French as well as the English version, so I cannot stray very far in choosing between them." "Are you sure of that?" Captain Hay ward's feigned anxiety rang true to the unsuspecting girl and aroused doubts in her mind. ''I've never consulted a wiser head than mine on the subject, therefore how can I be sure? What a poor teacher; what a tliJid guide unto your steps! " and in her momentary contrite self-negation, she buried her face in her hands. A mocking laugh from Captain Hayward roused her. "Oh, you dear unsophisticated, foolish child! Don't worry! your innocence and truthfulness would upset the arguments of Mephistopheles himself, how then can you fear for this poor slave of yours, who is more than willing to take you as his guide and Mentor, to see with your eyes, hear with your ears, and believe as you believe. Isn't that sufficient, little girl? Let's see the sun- shine once more in that sweet face, for when that is overcast, 'the world is dark and dreary for me.' " And Rita felt she had nothing to fear or regret in her decision to marry Captain Hayward. EIGHT OR WRONG; A TALE OF WAR AND FAITH. CHAPTER VI. After the exchange of prisoneM, in which Captain Hayward and Major Ken- drick were included, Capt. Hayward returned, in the month of February, much to Mrs. Levillier's secret sorrow and Mam Tel's openly-expressed regrets. Father Turgis had written that he would come when opportunity allowed him to spare a few hours, and bade them be ready at a moment's notice, as he could fix no time. Captain Hayward grew impatient at the delay, and one day hinted that a minister of the Methodist persuasion would answer all purposes. Rita grew indignant, ' ' Have I instructed you so poorly, or do you not appreciate the fact that a marriage outside of the Church would mean nothing to me? Marriage, to a Catholic, is not merely a civil contract, but a sacrament, that is intended to give us grace to bear up under trial* that "will beset us on life's long journey." Captain Hayward laughed at her solemn words. "Well, little girl, don't worry. I was only trying to see how much you might be willing to yield in exchange for all I 've given up — ' a fair exchange, ' etc., you know — but, to tell the truth, I much prefer to have you tied hard and fast, as you Catholics believe, than leave any loopholes through which you might escape me. So, content your soul in patience, as I shall do, until Father Turgis puts in an appearance. ' ' Ca_ptain Hayward 's first care had been to put into Rita's hand a small package, which, when relieved of its outer wrappings, disclosed a casket of chased silver, bearing the indelible impress of time. On lifting the faded pad of pale blue satin that first met the eye, a rosary of the purest amber that * • ever sorrowing sea-bird hath wept" was exposed to the expectant eyes bent above it. It was not, however, the beauty of the perfect beads that riveted Rita 'e atten- tion. Where the cross usuallj^ hangs, was a medallion of Limoge enamel, which represented Christ on the cross, hanging between the two thieves. The beads, on which are said the Pater Nosters were replaced by silver figures of hands and EIGHT OR WRONG; A TALE OF WAR AND FAITH. 39 feet, perforated by the nails, the spear that pierced His side, the chalice, the sponge, which contained the gall offered to assuage His thirst, the crown of thorns, all recalling the passion of the Son of Man. On the cover was pinned a properly-attested certificate that this rosary had originally belonged to Maria Theresa, Duchess D 'Angouleme, daughter of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette. Captain Hayward looked contemptuously at the rosary, which Rita held rever- erently. "I imagined Major Kendrick was sending you some priceless jewels, to I lease the feminine taste, by the care he enjoined on me of that precious package. He was not half so particular about the other gift, that, to my eye, represents fifty to one greater value than this rubbish." Rita looked up proudly. "Nothing could please a Levillier more than this beautiful reminder of the faith of that daughter of the ill-fated House of Bourbon, who alone survived the terrors of the revolution, during which, the last Marquis D'Estreville gave his life in defense of his king." Captain Hayward shrugged his shoulders. "Well, maybe so, but wait till you see the chest of silver, all marked to the Levillier arms, that I have left in jour future home, as it was too bulky to run the gauntlet of military roads and outposts, to say nothing of guerillas, who would not have hesitated to confiscate even the property of a Southern woman. You see, my friend, or rather your friend, the major (Colonel, by the way), took care that I should take no share in his gift, which he claims represents only a fraction of what he owes you. I think I rather stole a march on the Major, by marrying the girl, to even up my share of the debt. " Rita colored, angrily. "Pray, Captain Hayward, do not sacrifice yourself so unnecessarily on the altar of gratitude. The girl will willingly give you a receipt in full for all you owe her or hers. I rejoice that the discovery came in time. ' ' "Oh, you dear little spitfire! Don't you know by this time I can't' resist teasing you, just to see the red blood mantling your cheeks, and the fire of righteous indignation light those pretty eyes! It was at best an ill-timed joke, I admit, but I would risk all, but final banishment, just to see the pride of race in that erect head, or hear its accents in that clear voice! But, come, little one," he added, as Rita did not relax her attitude, "Major Kendrick is not 40 RIGHT OK WRONG; A TALE OF WAR AND FAITH. worthy to be the cause of a serious lovers' quarrel between us. Say you forget aud forgive," and Rita, once more, unheeding the promptings of her better jtidgment, reluctantly yielded. At laat, one day, just as night was falling. Father Turgis arrived. He had ridden all day, but no sooner was he seated at supper than he announced that he had only a few hours to spare, and that the wedding must take place at an early hour the next morning, so that by eight o'clock he could be on his return to his more pressing duties. Shortly after supper, Rita, Mrs. Levillier and Mam Tel, each in turn, entered the improvised confessional. Then Father Turgis invited Captain Hayward to a conference, and began to question him as to his change of faith. Captain Hayward replied unequivocally, assuring Father Turgis of his sincerity, in these words: "My good Father, any church that can show such phining examples as yourself, Mrs. Levillier and the rare blossom of pure woman- hood I hope to make my wife, must be one whose tenets I can safely accept." "Nay, nay, my son, the Church cannot accept such generalities in lieu of absolute faith. I think Christ Himself meant to teach how little we can judge of the truth of religion by its professors, when He chose His disciples. To our worldly wisdom it would seem that, having picked these men from the many, they, at least, should have proved true and steadfast, yet one betrayed Him, one denied Him thrice, and one declared utter unbelief in the very miracle that was to proclaim his Master's divinity. So it is that, of the thousands that claim membership in the great, universal Church, some betray her teachings by evil lives, some deny her by their indifference and levity, and some are ever ready to question and doubt her doctrines; therefore, the personal peccability or impec- to question and doubt her doctrines; therefore, the personal peccability or impec- cability of her children is not sufficient ground for accepting or rejecting her teachings. These you must accept willingly and unreservedly, without ulterior object, save your soul's salvation, simply because her Founder, Christi Jesus, has said so. These are the only conditions on which she will throw open the doors of her sanctuary to those who ask for admission. Are you prepared, my son, to accept these conditions?" RIGHT OE WRONG; A TALE OF WAR AND FAITH. 41 ' ' Why, Father, that is a matter of course, else why should I have summoned you here to marry me to a girl who, I truly believe, would, like the, martyrs of old, go to the stake rather than yield one jot or tittle of her faith— how much lees then, to marry me?" and Captain Hay ward gave a peculiar laugh, that grated on the ear of the good priest. "You see," continued the captain, "Eita is such a good, sincere, little Papist, she has drummed the catefehism into me until it seems to me I never believed anything else. So, question me, Father, as you will, but if I should fall below your standards, blame the pupil, not his teacher. ' ' Rita had done her work well, and, so far as familiarity with the subjects absolutely necessary for a catechumen to know, Father Turgis found nothing to criticize; yet, in spite of this, and of the Captain's assurance of unreserved ac- ceptance, there was a levity about his answers that troubled Father Turgis sorely. On the necessity for confession, even after conditional baptism, Captain Hayward had replied: "Why, Father, as to that, you know hum^ nature pretty well, and I guess I'm no better nor worse than the majority; probably have broken every one of the Commandments, more or less, except, 'Thou shalt not kill,' unless you look on war as murder." "Those generalities will not do. The priest must know you as you know yourself, e'er he can absolve you of your sins. Time, pMce, aggravating or mitigating circumstances, so far, of course, as memory serves, as well as a firm purpose of amendment, all are necessary to a good confession." "'So Rita and the catechism told me, and so I most sincerely desire to act." Father Turgis accepted Captain Hayward 's apparent sincerity, and shortly thereafter the Captain went to tell Rita that he was, on the following morning, to partake of the Holy Eucharist, as well as receive the Sacrament of Matrimony iit the nuptial mass, in order that, by eight o'clock, Father Turgis might begin his return journey. The good man had brought the chalice, vestments and unconsecrated host, and, with his own hands, erected a temporary altar. Despite the fact that Mam Tel disapproved so strongly of Rita 's choice, when the eventful day arrived, she was all excitement and gave a willing hand to every department of the preparations, assisting Mrs. Levillier in robing Eita in 43 BIGHT OR WRONG; A TALE OF WAR AND FAITH. the plain, yet rich, bridal dress Mrs. Levillier had ordered for the occasion, then darting into the kitchen to superintend the wedding breakfast that was to fol- low immediately after the ceremony. It was on one of these hasty visits to Mrs. Frawley's special domain, that Mam Tel was just in time to see Captain Hayward set clown a cup whose contents he had just drained. Mam Tel's horror at the sight left her no English words to express her in- tliguation, and she eiied out in patois, "Ca vous ape' faise la? Vous pas conne' mieu q^ue ca? Vous pas conne' vous pas capable recevoir vous premier communion a pesent? Ca Mamselle Rita ape' dis?" ("What are you doing there? Don't you know better than that? Don't you know you can't take your first com- munion now? What is Mamselle Rita going to say?") The words were unintelligible to the Captain, but their intonation, trans- lated by the aid of his guilty conscience, conveyed their meaning, and he turned nonchalantly about and said: "What have I done now, old ladyf I never seem to hit it right with you. You could not be more indignant if it was a stiff bracer instead of an innocent cup of coffee." "Didn't Mo Pitti tell you you must not eat anything from midnight of the day you was to take the communion?" "Certainly, but I didn't eat anything with the coffee." "If the coffee had been water, it would have been just as bad. Didn't Mo Piti tell you dat?" "By Jove, so she did!" exclaimed the Captain, apparently just recalling Rita's specific instructions. "What shall I do now, old lady?" ' ' Go tell Pere Turgis what you do. I go tell Mo Piti. ' ' "All right, but tell her I'm awful sorry, but it won't happen next time." "Next time! " Mam Tel exclaimed, "next time you get married? Don't you know there won't be no next time, for neider you nor Miss Rita, least one of you die? Don't you know it's only low down niggers and wicked white people what get married noder time?" In the Catholic community in which Mam Tel had been raised, divorce was an unknown quantity, and Mam Tel's ideas on the subject were pretty hazy, but she did know that separation might follow, but remarriage never, for her Catholic mistress. EIGHT OE WEONG; A TALE OF WAE AND FAITH. 43 ' ' Oh, I didn 't mean getting married again, old lady, but the next time "we go to communion." Captain Hay ward's explanation mollified Mam Tel somewhat, and she went to communicate her news to Mrs. Levillier and Bita. In doing what he had done deliberately. Captain Hayrvard had flattered himself he had done a very meritorious action by not adding a sacrilege, if Eita. was right, to his other deceptions. Baptism and confession he regarded as un- important, but though he called the Sacrament of the Eucharist, a senseless superstition, in spite of himself, he was impressed with the grandeur of the faith that could appeal, equally, to the masterly intellect of Father Turgis and the childish simplicity of Mam Tel, Mrs. Levillier 's calm, deliberate mind, and Eita's fervid, imaginative nature. He remembered Mrs. Levillier 's words on one occasion when he had urged that such a tremendous transformation,as she be- lieved took place in the unleavened bread or wafer, must leave some outward, visible sign, she had replied: "Did you ever see a dead, inert wire suddenly converted into a messenger of good and evil, of light and power, of war and peace, of healing and of death, and yet giving no outward sign by which even the most expert could dif- ferentiate between the inert mass and that charged with this tremendous power T This, however, is a manifestation of the material world, but can you not conceive that, in the vast, incomprehensible spiritual world, the transcendant, infinite power of a Godhead, can, at the words of consecration, transmute and convert the bread and wine into the body and blood of Christ, without appealing to our narrow, finite senses?" The words had awed him in spite of his skepticism, and had aroused doubts he would have been unwilling to admit, even in his subconsciousness, and he determined that, as he would not knowingly tamper with a live wire for fear of physical death, he would rather not take any risk of that death of the soul for whomsoever eat or drank unworthily, so fervently and graphically por- trayed by Eita. She herself had furnished him with the only way out of his dilemma, by striving to impress him with the necessity for absolute fast both from meat or drink prior to communion. He felt sure that no other excuse 44 RIGHT OR WRONG; A TALE OF WAR AND FAITH. would avail him, convinced as he was that even at the altar Rita would refuse to marry him, if she did not believe him a sincere convert to her creed, the cof- fee, therefore, seemed such an easy excuse, and he had not hesitated to avail himself of it. When Captain Hayward sought Father Turgis and admitted his fault, laying the blame on habits of camp life and the nervous condition in which he found himself, it would be difficult to say which feeling at first predominated the most, thankfulness or regret; thankfulness that a great sacrilege had been avert- ed, regret that perhaps the child over whom he had watched so carefully was about to trust her life in the keeping of one, who, he could not divest himself of the idea, was likely to prove unworthy, but with that charity that was the key- \ote of the grand nature of the man, he rejected both as unworthy of his priestly mission, and accepted as true Captain Hayward 's contrition at its face value. When Rita received the news, it seemed to her as if a precipice had opened at her feet. She had all along pictured to herself the scene of her marriage, as the ideal Christian ceremony when she and the man she had chosen should together receive the bread of life, united in faith and spirit as well as made one by the blessing of the church, and she almost recoiled at the fulfillment of her promise given conditionally on this last proof of his truth and sincerity. In an instant, however, her own lofty and generous nature cam0 to the rescue. She remembered all he had apparently given up for her sake, and acknowledged that it was an accident that could happen to any one, so that, when Captain Hayward came to lead her to the parlor, converted, for the nonce, into a chapel, she only whispered as she laid her hand on his arm: "01 James, I am so sorry for you as well as for myself!" and she resolved, by in- creased fervor, to atone for his fault, until when she, Mrs. Levillier, and Mam Tel received the consecrated host, Captain Hayward was awed by the wrapt ex- pression of the beautiful face that reminded him more of the seraphic faces of the saints and angels than of an earthly bride, and for the moment, he felt the first, and only, genuine emotions of true conversion he was ever to feel. EIGHT OE WEONG; A TALE OF WAE AND FAITH. CHAPTEE VII. "Well, here we are at last!" exclaimed Captain Hay ward, as the carriage stopped in front of a large, colonial house. Helping Eita to alight, he left Mam Tel to follow with the personal belongings of both. Mam Tel, with a negro's appreciative sense of caste and its visible belong- ings, as she took in at a glance the eminent respectability of the home, which was to be Eita's, and, therefore hers, heaved a sigh of infinite relief, and for the first time she acknowledged to herself that, after all, it was possible that her well-beloved "Piti" had not, by her marriage, derogated from her own rank and station in life, and she muttered half -contritely: 'Moi, mo te pas croire un mot ca li te dit mo Piti! Ape tout, peutre li pas si vaurien mo te' croire" (Me, I don't believe one word he told my little one. Perhaps, after all, he may not be as worthless as I think) ; and she followed Eita and the Captain with very different feelings from those she had, hitherto, entertained toward the latter. Captain Hayward had failed to notify his mother of their intended return, and to make the surprise more complete, he neglected to raise the massive knocker on the front door, but inserting his latch key, enjoining silence, entered the hall, which seemed to divide the house in twain. At the further end, a broad staircase rose squarely some six or seven feet, then dividing on either side, reached the upper floor. Midway, to the right, a large fireplace held the brass dogs on which rested a huge log that might have graced a Yuletide in old England. Doors on either side led, evidently, to apartments beyond. Their entrance had not disturbed the inmates, and Eita and Mam Tel had ample time to take in the beauty of the oak panelings, rafters, stairs and doors, mellowed into the rich, dark hue time alone can impart, as well as the quaint, solid furni- ture with claw feet and brass ornaments. The only concession to modern progress, or as Eita put it mentally, the only discordant note in the exquisite old ensemble, was the great register that stood, in brazen stolidity, near the Stair- 46 RIGHT OR WRONG; A TALE OF WAR AND FAITH. case. Everything bespoke comfort and taste, and every doubt that might have lurked in the secret recesses of her soul vanished. Captain Hayward did not, however, maintain his waiting attitude for long, but drawing an easy chair noisily, he pushed Rita gently into it, and exclaimed in a loud, mock-heroic voice, "Welcome to my castle, fair lady," doffing his cap in mimic homage, and turned, at the sound of an opening door, to face a young girl, on whose features, at sight of the intruders, astonishment overmastered every other emotion. She was small of stature, with a well-rounded form. The wealth of golden hair piled high on her head, was not sufficiently restrained to hold back the short curls that clustered about the face. The large blue eyes were veiled by dark lashes in strange contrast to the milky-white skin and roseate cheeks, peculiar to northern latitudes, but the small features accorded well with the innocent, childish expression that Rita afterwards always compared to pictured faces of saints and angels. Astonishment soon gave place to a bright smile of welcome, and at that instant Rita felt the first impulse of a friendship for the pretty girl that was to last and increase in after years. Bending quickly, Rita kissed the rosy cheeks. "I know," she said, "this must be Claire, and never name fitted its owner better. ' ' Scarcely returning the kiss, nor waiting to say aught, Claire turned and ran quickly into an inner apartment, and returned soon, almost dragging an elderly lady by the hand. James advanced to meet his mother. Mrs. Hayward was tall and spare, but was saved from angularity by the grace of every movement. Her features were regular; the hair, of that silvery white that adds to and softens the fading beauty of an aging face, was caught in two curls by handsome side combs; the eyes were of a steely grey, that ac- centuated the coldness and hauteur with which she greeted her son, and chilled effectually the spontaneous and characteristic warmth Rita was prepared to ac- cord her husband's mother. She, therefore, waited until he drew her to himself and said: "Mother mine, I trust you have a welcome for a forlorn little girl, a stranger in a strange land," EIGHT OR WRONG; A TALE OF WAR AND FAITH. 47 Mrs. Hayward bent forward and imprinted a chilling kiss on the cheek of the now trembling Rita, and fixing a penetrating look on her blushing face, Said almost sternly: "My son's wife is, perforce, welcome to my home." Then laying her hand on Rita's head, from which Mam Tel had removed hat and veil, she smoothed back, with unexpected gentleness, the dark curly locks and said: ''You are very beautiful, my daughter, but even such beauty can scarcely excuse James for being a traitor to his God, his country and his betrothed." "His betrothed!" Rita's bewildered look as she turned alternately to her husband and his mother, and caught the expression of keen annoyance he threw at the latter, told plainly her ignorance of the truth. A glance at Claire's increased color, and her womanly aptitude in jumping at conclusions, soon told Rita that Claire was the object of James' third apostacy, and impulsively Rita extended her hands toward the young girl and said: "Believe me, Claire, I never, until this instant, knew that any one possessed a prior claim to James' affec- tions." Claire took the outstretched hands, and drew Rita warmly to her arms. "I believe you, dear," she said quietly, and Mrs. Hayward added in her cold, impassive manner: "Child, he added deception of you to all his other sins." ' ' There, ' ' exclaimed Captain Hayward impatiently, ' * a pretty welcome this, to my wife, who has, at least, some rights in the premises! In the South where she comes from, hospitality takes a little more smiling form than recriminations! Mrs. Levallier and her daughter gave your son, an enemy and invader of their home, a little warmer treatment, or he had not lived to tell the tale, and you would never have had the chance to make such a hullaballoo about nothing. Come, Rita, little girl, I shall have to do the honors of my house. Mother, I suppose my room is as I left it. Mam Tel will soon put it in order for her tired young mistress." Her son's words brought back the fact, which had lost nothing in the tell- ing, the care that Rita and her mother had given him, and Mrs. Hayward and Claire vied with each other to minister to Rita's comfort and make her forget; but the words and the truth so rankled in the heart of the poor young wife 48 EIGHT OR WEONG; A TALE OF WAR AND FAITH. that even, when, later, they were all gathered in the dining-room, her face bore the impress of her emotion by its pallor, and when, to conceal her feelings, she tried to smile, there was a suspicious tremor about the mouth, that was more akin to tears than merriment. "When next Claire and Rita were alone, the latter came straight to the point. * ' Claire, dear, you said last night that you believed me. Can you go still further and tell me that I am forgiven for the wrong I involuntarily did you!" Claire smiled enigmatically. "1 scarcely know whether to forgive, or to thank you." Rita looked incredulously and questioningly at the girl. "Perhaps I had best explain. From the time I came here an orphan to claim the care and love Auntie has so generously given me, I think she planned and hoped that James and I should eventually marry. To please her was my greatest desire, and as James seemed to acquiesce willingly, the matter became an accepted fact. We were playmates, and always with the desire to do what- ever would please Auntie, it became a fixed habit of mine to yield to all things to his masterly commands, never complaining of his tyranny and injustice, but contenting myself by going off, when he was particularly disagreeable, and crying softly in some far-off corner. When he outgrew my companionship and sought the society of boys of his own age, some glimmering of light came to me, when I found myself involuntarily comparing James to his boy friends, generally to his detriment," Rita's tell-tale face mirrored her momentary annoyance at Claire's candor, but she controlled it quickly. "Go on," she said simply, as Claire saw and hesitated. "Well, dear, there is not much more to tell. His manners to me continued the same, — frolicsome and quasi-affectionate at times, at others, cruel and overbearing." Rita winced. "When he was about leaving for the front," Claire resumed, "Auntie was very anxious that we should be married. James made no objections, but, for once, I asserted myself and pleaded that it would be time enough on his return. You see, I had already begun to suspect that I was not in love with my EIGHT OR WEONG; A TALE OF WAE AND FAITH. 49 dear cousin, and was willing, in spite of the poets' assurance, to test the efEect of absence on our love. Your presence here, and my utter indifference, not to say thankfulness, are ample proof of my wisdom." Eita sighed contentedly. "You are sure, Claire, you have no regrets?" Claire laughed immoderately. "You have lived three months with James and still ask such a question? 1. ou truly have worked miracles if, to have James for a hubsand, can be a subject for envy or regret." Eita had been more than woman had she not involuntarily shrank from Claire's succinct and plain statement of her feelings toward James Hayward, yet, she was relieved and thankful to find that Claire was really "heart-whole and fancy free." But over and above all other feelings, there was the convic- tion that Clair's few words, with no uncertain strokes, had limned James' character. Despite her efforts to down the unworthy thought, she had already realized that his conversion was a mockery, as he had always pleaded some ex- cuse, whenever she approached the holy table, to repair the pretended accident, that had prevented his communion at the nuptial mass, until, at last, she had ceased to urge him, lest she should be the means of urging him to sacrilege, an event she could not contemplate without terror. Eising suddenly, she threw her arms around Claire's waist, and said: "You have certainly lifted a great burden from my heart. To feel that I had alienated James' love from such a girl as you, might have flattered my vanity, but my common sense would soon have convinced me that I could not hold the affection I had won. ' ' "Yet you do not seem to have had any scruples in regard to his patriotism and his faith?" Claire asked in astonishment. "Those were questions that concerned only himself, and interfered in no way with the happiness of another. His betrothal to you was entirely different, and I would never have forgiven myself, had you not convinced me that your happiness was more truly conserved by the breaking, than by the keeping of his word." 50 EIGHT OR WEONG; A TALE OF WAR AND FAITH. " 'All's well that ends well,' " quoted Claire. "Your conscience can rest easy so far as I am concerned, and I do hope, dear, you will be able to work the miracle, by proving me a false prophet, in having painted James blacker than he deserves." EIGHT OE WEONG; A TALE OF WAE AND FAITH. 51 CHAPTEE VIII. Crash! Crash!! Crash!!! The sounds came from overhead where Eita knew Mam Tel's room was lo- cated. A profound silence followed the crash for a few seconds, then pande- monium seemed to break loose. Eita could catch Abigail's loud, nasal tones, mingled with Mam Tel's soft voice, robbed of its liquid notes, by anger and indignation. Hurrying upstairs, Eita soon reached the scene of conflict. Mam Tel stood in the midst of the torn and broken fragments of the little altar that Eita knew had always been the object of her pride and devotion. In one hand, Mam Tel held the torn pieces of the altar cloth, which, despite their fragmentary con- dition, still showed the careful laundering of which she was so justly proud. The other hand held clasped to her bosom what remained of the statue of Our Lady of Prompt Succor, while the floor was littered with crucifix, beads, candles and candlesticks, pictures of saints, and vases in which Mam Tel had evidently placed a few pretty blossoms. The wreck was complete. "Why, how did this happen?" asked Eita. "It didn't happen. I did it on purpose!" exclaimed Abigail. "Do you think I was going to let that black woman put up those heathenish things in a house that's always been Godfearing and decent until the likes of her come into it!" "Mo Piti," cried Mam Tel, returning to her "patois" as Eita's presence restrained and soothed her. ' ' I had just finished fixing my altar, and was feeling a heap more contented than I've felt since I comed here, when that woman walked in. I was just a-going to ask her if she didn't think it pretty, when she caught hold of the lace and sent all my pretty things every which way. She wasn't satisfied with that, but she tore the lace just as you see, and stamped on the blessed images, as if they were dirt under her feet, and she was afraid they 52 RIGHT OR WRONG; A TALE OF WAR AND FAITH. wasn't broken into little enough pieces," and as Mam Tel lived over the scene, tears streamed down her face. "Don't cry, Mam Tel," and as she spoke Rita put her arms affectionately around the old woman. "You shall have as nice an altar as this one, I promise you. Ab to you, Abigail, "'she said sternly to the white girl who stood flushed with admiration of her own prowess, "I scarcely know what to say of your in- trusion in Mam Tel's room to commit such wholesale destruction of what was not yours, and I shall most certainly appeal to Mrs. Hayward for protection of Mam Tel and her belongings — " "If she's the Christian lady I've known these many years, she'll not give protection to an idolater, but praise me for 'smiting her hip and thigh' like the Amalakites of holy writ — " Rita's first impulse was to turn from Abigail in disgust, her next was to try and explain to the irate but earnest creature, the error of her judgment, and, if possible, secure Mam Tel from further molestation. "Abigail, you surely do not think that Mam Tel worshipped those pieces of china and glass that you could so easily destroy?" "But I do believe it, and I know it! Didn't I see her myself kneelin' be- fore them and abowing and muttering her outlandish lingo, just as if the sense- less things could hear! I tell you no such popish doings can go on in this house, if Abigail Simons can help it! I just tell you what it is, many a dime I've given, before this war came on, to help free the poor slaves, but nary a penny they'd have gotten out of me if I'd known they were benighted heathens like the likes of her!" Rita felt that her position was, as yet, too little assured to know how to deal with this torrent of abuse from a woman whom, she knew, was held in high esteem by all the members of the household. As to Mam Tel, Abigail's vituperative English was beyond her ability to understand, and as Abigail ceased speaking, Mam Tel said: "Mo Piti, what she say?" "She sayis you were praying to the statues and images. Mam Tel." "And so she was, the popish heathen!" As the real meaning of Abigail's conduct dawned on Mam Tel's bewildered EIGHT OR WIEONG; A TALE OF WAR AND FAITH. 53 brain, she gave the white woman a look of utter contempt and disgust, and turned her back squarely on her. "Dieu! may li bete!" (Lord, but she is stupid), she cried, as if argument or asserveration would be lost on such a benighted creature. Then, suddenly turning to her young mistress, as if disdaining to address Abigail in that English tongue, which, truth to tell, she despised, she exclaimed: "Me, worship pictures? Po I? Well, ask her what she does every night when she stands in front of that picture that hangs in her room, and talks to it and kisses it? Ask her if she worships that picture, the frame it's in, the paper it's made of, and the glass that covers it. Ask her that. Mo Piti." Mrs. Hayward felt her position of interpreter as a rather undignified one, but she wag sure that Mam Tel's counter charges and questions would probably be the best vindication and explanation of Mam Tel's apparent heresy, of which heresy, Rita was shrewd enough to know, Abigail held her not entirely guilt- less. Abigail listened as Eita translated Mam Tel's queries, her first astonish- ment giving place to incredulity and finally to anger. "Me, adore senseless pieces of paper! Don't she know better than thati Didn't I tell her only yesterday that that was the likeness of my dear old mother, for whom I cared as long as she lived, and whose likeness is all I have to remind me of all I loved in this world, and of all I've lost! I always kiss her good-night, while if I've done as I know she would like to see me do, it seems to nie she smiles, and when I look at her dear face, it gives me courage to bear the trials of this life, and sometimes I think I hear her voice praising or blam- ing me, as I deserve." Abigail's plain features and voice had lost all their as- perity and were transfigured by her overmastering filial devotion. Mam Tel had listened, not unmoved, as the words fell slowly from Abigail's lips. As the latter ceased. Mam Tel said slowly: "Yes, Miss Abigail, you did tell me dat was your mother's picture, but I just said it because I wanted you to say what you told me before, and I wants to ask you, can't you think dat I can love the mother of my God as well as ycu can love your sure enough mother? Don't you know that when I see her 54 EIGHT OR WRONG; A TALE OF WAR AND FAITH. image with the little Jesus in her arms that I'se bound to think of all the love and care she gave my Saviour, and it 'minds me that the good Saviour gave her to me as my mother when he was dying on the cross for all us poor Sin- ners? And when I looks at my crucifix, ain't I bound to think how the Saviour Biiffered and died on the cross for me? And when I looks at those nail holes in His hands and feet, and see that ugly wound in his side, don't you know, Miss Abigail, I can bring it all afore me a heaps better than just telling about it, and I'se just bound to feel sorry for anything I'se done, what's wrong, just like if you hear of somebody getting hurt, you feel sorry of course, but if you see the wounds and the blood aflowing, and hear the groans, you just 'bleeged to do scmething for the poor soul. No, Miss Abigail, even a poor, ignorant slave, if she's a Catholic, knows better than to worship them trifling things what you dene destroyed with a sweep of your hand." Abigail stood silent. Still under the influence of her own softening emo- tions, she was the more ready to accept Mam Tel's explanation of her faith, but the beliefs of a life time could scarcely be expected to give way entirely to new convictions, and Rita knew it to be the wiser part not to ask for a recantation, but said gently: "Abigail, I shall replace as I said, as far as I can, the things that have been destroyed, though I cannot give to the new the memories Mam Tel at- tached to the old. I was going to appeal to Mrs. Hayward for a key to Mam Tel's room. I feel sure that that is now unnecessary, for I am convinced that you will no more be tempted to repeat what you have done to-day, than Mam Tel would be to destroy your mother's picture." That evening Rita related the foregoing incidents to the assembled family. "Good for the old lady!" her husband exclaimed. "She'd have been a worthy servitor in the home of the early pilgrims. I certainly would have en- joyed seeing or rather hearing, that Set-to between Abigail and that prime specimen of the down-trodden slave, who seems to know her rights and how to maintain them. It must have been rich!" and he laughed immoderately at the picture painted by his imagination. EIGHT OR WRONG; A TA.LE OF WAR AND FAITH. 55 Rita looked at him reprovingly. ''I could see nothing laughable in Abigail's ignorance and frenzied zeal, nor in Mam Tel's sorrow and despair." "What a pity Mam Tel's arguments cannot find their way to those who pride themselves on their superiority to both Mam Tel and Abigail. I, for one, am delighted to have heard Mam Tel's logical expose of her faith; a thing scarcely to be expected from one as ignorant as she," Claire said quickly. "That depends on what you call ignorance. 'A little learning is a danger- ous thing,' so I cannot claim to be the discoverer of the truism that ignorance is often preferable to a mere smattering. Mam Tel is a good example of what I mean. She does not know one letter from the other, and I fear has no ambition to learn, but when it comes to a question of faith and morals, a correct code of right living, an entire self-abnegation for those she loves, she can easily distance many who believe themselves her superiors. After all, is not this the best of learning? I, for one, can testify that I am truly indebted to her for boundless affection, good counsels, and sleepless watchfulness over my childhood. In fact, her very presence here is a proof of that self-abnegation of which I speak. My mother had had Mam Tel as her waiting maid from her earliest childhood. Mam Tel's mother having been her nurse, and bonds of closest affection existed be- tween them. When the question of my leaving home came up, Mam Tel came to my mother. 'Mamselle Estelle, (the old-time slave never uses the title 'Madam' to her young mistress) 'I'm going up there with Mo Piti! ' " 'Why, Mam Tel,' exclaimed my mother, 'what put such an idea into your head? You will be a long way from home, among a strange people whose ways you won't understand.' "And won't Mo Piti be there, too? I don't like to leave you or Master Victor, but it's Mamselle Rita that needs me most." Rita suppressed the last, and to Mam Tel, the clinching argument: "I don't like that Yankee man she's married and I'se bound to be there to take care of her. If I's wrong, then in a few years I can come back! " "Then you hold that where ignorance is bliss 'tis folly to be wise?" "Not exactly, but as between Mam Tel's creed and a little smattering of grammar, geography, and reading, I prefer Mam Tel's education!" 56 RIGHT OR WRONG; A TALE OF WAR AND FAITH. "How do you account for such extremes in one person? How did a alave acquire the one without the other?" asked Mrs. Hay ward. "Easily. In the first place, the Catholic Church admits none to the sacra- ments who does not fully understand her tenets and subscribes to them. As the largest number of 'slaves could not read, it becomes the bounden duty of the priest to teach orally for years the truths contained in her catechism. These lessons were often supplemented by lessons in the households of truth, honesty, obedience, and respect for authority, both secular and religious, the one Bup- plementing the other. "A pretty shrewd policy," cynically remarked Mrs. Hayward, "which savors as much of self-interest as of religion." Rita colored. "Undoubtedly! But, granting the motive not to be disinterest- ed, the effect was unassailable. It made the slaves, as a rule, docile, tractable, happier far than those trained by other methods." "Take care, Rita, you are treading on dangerous ground," warned Captain Kayward. "Catholic doctrines are dangerous enough, but slavery is worse." Mrs. Hayward had so far taken no part in the discussion, with the excep- tion of the words quoted above, but sat rigid and uncompromising. Now she relaxed enough to say: "Unpleasant subjects are best let alone, yet I am sure Rita's, or rather Mam Tel's plausible arguments, are at least enlightening, if not entirely convincing, in explaining the meretricious ornaments in the Romish Churches." Claire and the Captain laughed, and the latter Said: "There mother, I knew your silence boded no good! *A woman convinced against her will is of the same opinion still.' " Rita looked bewildered. "Surely you, like Abigail, do not believe we Cath- olics worship statues, paintings, etc? It would be an insult to my sanity, to say nothing of my intelligence, to think so monstrous a thing as that I, and the millions like me, could give to senseless things the powers that belong to God alone!" Rita felt her face crimsoning with rising indignation, but with a powerful effort, she controlled her feelings, and added: "But, there! how fool- ish of me! Pardon me for misunderstanding you even for a moment," and RIGHT OR WRONG; A TALE OF WAR AND FAITH. 57 leaning over, she laid her hand, with an appealing and affectionate gesture, on the elderly lady's arm. ' ' There, Mother, don 't say anything, ' ' said the Captain, ' * or Rita maj put you in the category of that lady who, on being told that Mrs. Levilliet was a Catholic, exclaimed: "Why, you a Catholic! I thought it was only the ig- norant who belonged to that church! ' I have often heard my mother-in-law laugh over the incident, and, with mischief in her eye, declare how sorely tempted she was to give the retort (dis) courteous by replying: 'My dear Madam, if ig- norance was the only qualification, you would certainly occupy an exalted rank in the Catholic hierarchy! ' So pray be gentle with Rita and impart your opinions on Catholics in general in broken doses. You might otherwise overwhelm her. 'Handle her gently, softly, with care,' and she may perchance appreciate your peculiar views on the subject." Mrs. Hayward's face relaxed neither at Rita's affectionate apology, nor at her son's nagging. An embarrassed silence fell upon the quartette. It had al- most become unbearable, when Rita's eyes chanced to fall on a large engraving that was half concealed by the shadow of the open door. "What a handsome engraving! I cannot read the title, but what is the subject?" she asked, anxious to divert the current of their thoughts from the unpleasant subject. The worried look on Claire's face, and the comic smile that lurked in the corners of her husband's mouth, as well as the increased unpleasantness on Mrs. Hayward's face, told Rita that she had blundered in some inexplicable way. She was therefore not unprepared for Mrs. Hayward's reply. "That, my dear, is the martyrdom of the victims of the Inquisition, the death by fire of the forerunner of the Reformation; that monk whose name should ever be linked with that of Luther." "Do you mean Savanarola?" "Most certainly, and even you can give no good and sufficient reason why he should not be venerated by those who follow in the footsteps of Luther and Calvin." 58 RIGHT OR WROTJG; A TALE OF WAR AND FAITH. Eita smiled. Her better judgment bade her ignore the challenge; her com- bative spirit, and her sense of justice urged her to reply. The woman who hesitates is lost. Claire, seeing Rita's hesitation, but not comprehending its cause, said smilingly: "I believe, Rita, you have met your religious Waterloo. Auntie has asked you an unanswerable question." "That is a matter of opinion," was the quiet reply. "Auntie," she had adopted Claire's way of addressing Mrs. Hayward, "looks upon Savanarola as the precursor of Luther, while I look upon him almost as a saint and martyr of the church. Pope Paul IV declared all of Savanarola 's doctrines orthodox. He was a monk, and fulfilled all the duties of an orthodox Catholic, and died in full communion with the church." "What proof have you of that?" asked Mrs. Hayward curtly. "None at hand, and you must take my word and recollections as proof. Bayle, who I am sure will never pass for an apologist of Savanarola, ajjproving as he does his condemnation, and calling him very hard names, adds: "Is it not strange that Protestants should place among their martyrs a monk who al- ways celebrated mass during his life, and at his death, went to confession, took the holy Eucharist, making an act of faith in the Real Presence and receiving humbly the plenary indulgence sent him by the sovereign pontiff.' " "Then how do you account for his execution?" Claire asked timidly. "Savanarola was not only a monk, but a political reformer in the best sense of the word. His ineffectual efforts in the reformation of irregularities within the church, which, after long delay, culminated in the Council of Trent, on the one hand, and the prominent part taken by Savanarola in the expulsion of the Medici and the establishment of a Republic in Florence, were the religious and political crimes which he expiated on the scaffold." "You cannot approve of religious persecution and martyrdom?" asked Mrs. Hayward severely. "No, indeed. Auntie, no more than you probably condone the burning of witches, or the expulsion of Roger Williams for righteousness' sake, by your pilgrim ancestors. And yet, wiser heads than mine have, by deed as well as word, asquiesced in the doctrine, held in the middle ages, that heresy was a EIGHT OE WEONG; A TALE OF WAE AND FAITH. 59 social, as well as a religious crime, and punishable by death, Huss accepted that verdict when he exclaimed: *If my doctrines are really erroneous, I deserve death.' Did not Calvin condemn to the most horrible torture Michael Servet, the author of a treatise against the Trinity, for which good deed Melancthon, the gentle Melancthon, wrote congratulating and thanking him for his zeal in this matter in these or words of like import: 'I subscribe with my whole heart your sentence, and believe that you used your authority in a most legitimate manner, in giving to the executioner, after all judicial information, such an awful blas- phemer.' I quote from memory, but those words are pretty nearly right. But don't think that I subscribe to such sentiments. I'm too good an American of the present day and generation to believe in persecution, either religious or political. ' ' ^ "More's the pity that others don't share those sentiments," declared Cap- tain Hayward. " If I am to judge by my personal experience, I should say that the spirit of intolerance in this country is in as flourishing a condition as in the days of Cotton Mather, and though my good fellow men may not cry, 'to the stake with him,' for the good and sufficient reason that they cannot, yet, I suspect that, before long, I may wish that a short shrift was not out of fash- ion. Here I've been two weeks in this town, where pretty much every one knew me as boy and man, and yet not a friendly hand has been extended to me, and averted looks meet me on every side. I begin to think, Eita, you will prove in- deed, *my pearl of great price/ " "Oh, James, don't say that! You cannot mean that your people won't have anything to do with you because you married me." "Well, something very like it. Of all my old friends and clients, not one has come to bid me welcome or has entrusted a ease to me." "But what have I to do with that!" "You forget that, to marry you, James accepted your religious beliefs and resigned his commission in the Union Army," quietly answered Mrs. Hayward. ' * Perhaps, had he done either one or the other, some might have forgiven him, but to forgive both is more than is to be expected. 'As he has made his bed, so must he lie on it.' " 60 RiaHT OR WRONG; A TALE OF WAR AND FAITH. The events of the day had unconsciously drawn heavily on Rita's nerve force, and now, the sudden revelation of the consequence of the price she had exacted, came with stunning effect on her highly sensitive organism. Rising aad- denly, she threw her arms around her husband, and sobbed out, "Oh, James, I could never have foreseen such injustice! Can I do anything to help youf " "Not much, unless you can take my place as a common soldier in the ranks, as some one suggested I should do." "You don't mean to do that, James?" "No, indeed, my dear. After having been Captain Hayward, I'd scarcely relish becoming Private Hayward. I have seen too much, for that." ' ' Perhaps your nonattendance at our old house of -worship may have some- tliing to do with this treatment of which you complain," said his mother. "Mrs. Amos EUingsworth asked me why you and your wife had not been seen at meet- ing on the Sabbath." "I see Mrs. EUingsworth is as great a gossip as she used to be. Well, should ;^ny one else ask you about my religious belief, tell them I became a Catholic jto marry my wife and that I am almost as good a member of that church as I was a good Protestant," declared Captain Hayward defiantly. "How good that was. Mother, you can probably enlighten them." "Oh, James!" simultaneously exclaimed both wife and mother, and the latter said reproachfully: "If I found any solace in your adoption of the Catholic faith, it was that you must have given up your blasphemies and your irreligion. ' ' * ' Well, I haven 't, ' ' declared the captain, as he abruptly left the room. EIGHT OR WEONG; A TALE OF WAE AND FAITH. 61 UHAPTEK IX. "Eita, -what is a hoodoo or voudou?" questioned Claire, one morning, after breakfast. "Pray, wliat do you know of voudous?" retorted Rita, laughing at Claire's evidently serious question. "Mot much, since I come to you for enlightenment; but Abigail seems to know a great deal about it, and declares she fears Mam Tel's powers in that direction. ' ' "Poor Mam Tel! She would certainly be dreadfully hurt if she suspected that she was accused of dabbling in that black art, which, in spite of her real religious training, is hers by heredity, and consequently hard to eradicate, be- cause, although the grossest superstition is the superstructure, it is reared on a religion or cult, idolatrous, it is true, but very genuine to its followers and very terrifying to the masses. The power which its followers are said to wield are certainly sufficient to strike terror in the hearts of the ignorant, even though the methods employed seem very absurd and inadequate to the end." "Pray explain." "Voudouism is the worship of evil under the form of the serpent. It was introduced into the colonies by the slaves brought from Africa. On the eve of the Feast of St. John, which falls in midsummer, the votaries of voudouism assemble at midnight in some remote spot, and give themselves up to inde- scribable orgies, which include bloody sacrifices, even young children having been sometimes used as holocausts. Of this, they have been accused and con- victed on the West India Islands, but in New Orleans, although there have been rumors of such horrors, no proofs have been adduced, though the police have been keenly on the alert at the appointed time, and so far as my knowl- edge goes, the matter has degenerated, if I can so express it, into very silly practices. The priests or doctors sell charms and amulets against every ill to 62 RIGHT OR WRONG; A TALE OF WAR AND FAITH. which flesh is heir, and powders and decoctions, that may or may not be quite harmless. Bo far as my personal knowledge goes, I have been very much amused by the unearthing in feather pillows and beds, of coffins, snakes, crosses and other figures whose like never existed on earth, in the heavens above, or in the waters beneath, all cut out of pieces of cloth of various hues and quality. It would be amusing if it were not pitiful to see the terror that such things, or others equally harmless, seem to inspire in believers in the power for harm of these objects. I was once passing in Royal street, when a boy, evidently just out of school, came along, and with a bit of probably purloined ehalk, whistling merrily as he went, marked on every available space, doors, windows, fences and door-steps, the signs of addition, subtraction, multiplica- tion and division. Suddenly, a woman pounced out of a door just ahead of him, and seizing him by the shoulders, shook him violently, and, taking the chalk from him, threw it into the middle of the street, "You can hoodoo them who'll let you," she cried, "but you can't come such didoes on me while I've got strength enough to keep you from a-doing of it!" "What is the difference between hoodoo and voudou?" "None whatever — Hoodoo is a corruption of the other, but 'hoodoo' has degenerated into a more secular than religious meaning, and is often used in the sense that we use 'Jonah,' signifying an unlucky person, or one who brings ill-luck to another. But to go back to Abigail. What does she know about voudouism, and why does she suspect Mam Tel of being one of its vota- ries?" "Abigail's father, it seems, used to trade to the West Indies, and was in the habit of telling her of the doings of the black people he met there, and she has kept a vivid picture of his sayings." Claire stopped. "But Mam Tel; why suspect her?" Claire looked embarrassed. "Why, you see, Abigail keeps a pretty sharp lookout on Mam Tel — " "And watches her as a cat does a mouse," added Rita. Claire laughed and nodded. RIGHT OE \^EO'NG; A TALE OF WAR AND FAITH. 63 "What has she discovered?" "It seems that several times she has caught sight of Mam Tel as she was dressing, and she declares that she has a string around her neck, with littto bags at both ends, to which are sewed pieces of brass and silver. Abigail ed- clares those are the charms her father told her about, and that Mam Tel is thus trying to work an evil spell on us all and herself, Abigail, in particular." Laurita laughed long and heartily. "Mam Tel is not the only one who wears those charms. See here," and she drew from her bosom a small square of brown cloth, faced with silk, on which was embroidered the image of the Blessed Virgin and Child, and to which was attached a small gold crucifix and medal. "Are you sure that that is what Abigail saw around Mam Tel's neck?" "As sure as I am of my own existence. She and I belong to that great army of servants of Mary who wear the scapulars as our badge of servitude. It may differ in texture, just as Mam Tel's is cotton and mine silk, but their meaning is the same, proclaiming our allegiance to the Mother of God, and our belief in her care and protection." "You certainly attach no faith in those bits of silk or cotton?" asked Claire hesitatingly. "No, but in the prayer which we are reminded to say when we wear it. By the way, Claire, why do you wear that bit of white ribbon constantly?" Claire saw the point and laughingly replied: "Because I'm a white rib- boner; that is, I'm a firm believer in total abstinence, and want everyone to see it," "According to that, I should wear my scapular on the outside of my dress, but you see, we are only required to wear it hidden from the view of all save Her whose badge it is." "Am I to understand that you and Mam Tel belong to the same society ot association?" "in the same association of prayer, yes." "And you a Southerner, and, as I believe, a strong believer in classes and castes! I don't follow you." 64 BIGHT OR WRONG; A TALE OF WAR AND FAITH. "I might reply I am a Catholic first, and a Southerner afterwards, but that does not express my meaning. The Catholic Church is the most consistent republic on earth. The humblest of her priests, one day, may become the Sovereign Pontiff the next, for the Church chooses its head by ballots, whose purity is safe — guarded by prayer, by isolation from all outside influences, whether personal or political, and by constant invocation of the Holy Ghost, that he may direct the choice of the Cardinals assembled from all parts of the earth for that purpose. But once elected to the throne of Peter, his dictum in matters of faith and morals, is a law which none may question." "That is what you call the 'infallibility of the Pope,' is it not?" Rita looked the astonishment she felt. She had never approached that question with non-Catholies without having to explain that doctrine, after hear- ing it travestied into personal sinlessness in the man. Claire answered the questioning surprise in Rita's face. "I see I am right for once." "How did you arrive at such a correct conclusion, Claire f" "it was not a very difficult effort. You had had occasion to correct so many of my errors in regard to your faith, that I jumped to the conclusion that iere was the answer to another of the absurdities I had heard attributed to your Church, composed though, it is of millions of enlightened and intelligent men and women, to whom the doctrine of personal impeccability would be unreason- able. Am I not progressing f" "May that progress continue until, finally, you become a member of the one flock under one shepherd!" and Rita threw her arms around the girl she loved so dearly. Claire accepted the caress without returning it. "My dear Rita, it is a long step between throwing off foolish prejudice, and accepting blindly the reverse. But we have wandered from our subject. I am yet to understand how you and Mam Tel can belong to the rank and file in the same Church while occupying such opposite positions in the social world." "There is nothing strange in that, if you only remember that Christ died to save all men, not the high or the low, the learned, or the ignorant; and EIGHT OR WRONG; A TALE OF WAR AND FAITH. 65 yet, God himself, did not create beings all equal in rank and power, as witness, angela, archangels, cherubim and seraphim. Adam and Eve each had their separate spheres, marked out tor them, and in their punishment, after their fall, that inequality was maintained. Mam Tel and I, socially and physically, were born unlike, yet spiritually we are equal, children of the same God, saved by the same Redeemer, partakers of the same sacraments, and heirs to the same punishments and rewards hereafter; consequently, she is not only my equal spiritually, but she might even be my superior." "What an extraordinary admission!" exclaimed Claire, bewildered by Rita's unexpected reasoning. "How can you reconcile such doctrines with your attitude of superiority towards Mam Tel, and those of her race, or, for that matter, of those of Caucasian blood on whom you undoubtedly look as your in- feriors?" "By the very act of acknowledging a common spiritual origin, we accept as the decree of His infinite wisdom, the station, in this life, in which he has placed us, and are bound by the duties, the exigencies and the limitations of that position, whether it be a Pope or a Hottentot, a king or a peasant, and each must live up to the highest ideals given him. As I said before, God made distinctions in His creatures from all eternity, and in establishing His Church on earth, Christ put Peter in a pre-eminent position with the words: 'Thou art Peter, and on this rock I will build My Church, and the gates of HeU shall not prevail against it!' That Church has followed this example, and its mem' bers are divided into graded ranks. Some must command, and some must obey, some must lead, and some follow; the higher the position, the greater the responsibility. Let me illustrate my meaning by a rather comical incident in Mamma's experience with one of the newly enfranchised. Nancy was very black, a good worker, conscientious as she understood her duty to the extent of her wages, honest as the negro goes, but decidedly inclined to uphold her equality with the white folks in general, and her former mistress in particular. "Several times this subject had come very near causing a clash, but Mamma, not wishing to lose a good servant, adroitly managed to avoid any 66 EIGHT OR WKONG; A TALE OF WAR AND FAITH. discussion on the subject, until, one day, hearing some unusually loud talking in the kitchen, she found Nancy in a rage at some inadvertent remark she had overheard a neighbor make on class distinctions. " 'Dat white 'ooman talks as if we culled people wasn't as good aa ehe is!' Nancy cried, as Mamma entered the kitchen, and suddenly turning to Mamma: 'Madam, don't you think I'se just as much a lady as Mrs. TompkinsT' " '1 certainly do not, Nancy,' Mamma quietly replied, sure that the mo- ment of parting had come. "The very boldness of the answer evidently took Nancy by surprise, an