COL. GEORGE WASHINGTON FLOWERS 
 MEMORIAL COLLECTION 
 
 DUKE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 
 DURHAM, N. C. 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 W. W. FLOWERS 
 
THE RIVALS: 
 
 
 \ CHK KAHQMINY STOEY. 
 
 I$v Miss M. .r. Ug 
 
 OF TIEfilNU. 
 
 II-U'S T X* A T E D 
 
 I! 1(1! MUNI): 
 AYRES <5g \VA 13 K 
 

 -. If. 
 
 THE RIVALS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 N< ifternooo, twodroys we*e trteriog.aloi I 
 
 nam. ;i . through a dense oak I from the old 
 
 Was! smy.a very venerable, if uot a very i n iwned s ut of {earning, 
 
 in tin- enmity • r!,o arm ofeaeh was t! rown over the neck of the 
 
 .other.: i : nanner so common toll ular 
 
 Irion 1 mi open letter, a passage in- w -lnr- 
 
 >ng out to t! I»m the letter evidently b< ably 
 
 icetul figure, regular an '. aristocratic < pala 
 
 : eyes. But although in 
 
 i to the laws of beauty, yet from t ■ out- 
 
 thi otherwise fjiir index, some things ; i than 
 
 - beautifully chiseled featui s. fhere • ■ - about th* 
 
 large, o ■ brow, an expression < > T r< erve and cauti in a! 
 
 tic head, and the curve of the thin, ] 
 ■• in its excess, and the Ime of the thin, red lips, th< 
 : ingied cynicism and egotism rather u 
 oth r ■ shadowy, mystical | i i tho 
 
 count in faint — the youth was but seven e-.m — i 
 
 mar. i of color and proportion indelibly starrij ; and 
 
 universal verdict was that Walter Maynard was a v.-ry ban . 
 yout . 
 
 Ti. i ooHjr inspecting the more athletic, bnt ! is per ical 
 
 figure, and tl \r, though more manly features 
 
 Charloy Kostei 1 have pronounced them less beautiful than tho> ibed; 
 
 this Would, ict of the superficial a 
 
 nrti.st 1 . looked beyond the inferior m pmlities of 
 
 form ice*, or deformities which an- capable of 
 
 a magieaUj ch a repulsive cloud rauld 
 
 liavc ) rotJOD ire light of intellect which illi 
 
 l**n , and nearly so in kind: but those mJbtal qualil 
 
 goto irmtri I man, had been distributed bet-. i them by Prorid 
 
 with a vie than unity. and clear, dark 
 
 I beamed with candor and s about his ral 
 
 • 
 in hi* Hv s was just enough of 
 
 ■s; and his fr.ini;. cordial m irted 
 
 ;ravity and reticence i 
 
 b ith admired and beluaed. 
 
 218334 
 
4 THE RIVALS: 
 
 When they had proceeded a short distance, they paused under a huge oak tre*», wli 
 stood immediately on the roadside, and Charley threw himself on tin* grass at its ; 
 and resting the elbow which supported his head on its mossy root, ex -laimed — 
 
 • And so, Walter, yon are going to be a soldier ?' 
 
 'Yes,' replied Walter, seating himself beside him, 'so it seems; my aunt Kmeline 
 writes, yon sec, that my great uncle, Horace Maynard, who has charitably undertakers 
 my edocitini. that I might not disgrace the family by my ignorance, h»s procured uu 
 au appointment to the West Point Military Academy.' 
 
 ' Well,' pursued Charley, without noticing the slightly ironical tone in which a par: 
 of his friend's reply* was delivered. ' 1 should not have thought of yo -:t being a soldier. 
 You are brave and ami iti us enough, to be sure, but I do not think yui have the reck- 
 less daring and love of adventure one naturally associates with the members of the mili- 
 tary profession, In my mind, I had deemed upon the law for hot!) of us, and I tl 
 Walter, that you have soma qualities which peculiarly lit you fur the legal calling: 1 
 thought, too, that the law was your choice.' 
 
 ' Beggar.-- should not and certainly cannot be choosers,' replied Walter, bitterly. ' You 
 forget, Charlej', that 1 am-an orphan, and poor: that my father and grandfather spent, 
 their lives in squandering the princely estate their ancestors had accumulated, leaving 
 me an old name and an empty purse; that I am dependent upon my aunts, w.uo hfiva 
 reared me, and upon my great-uncie, who, purely from family pride, has charged him- 
 self with my education, arid am compelled to submit to their direetio'i. This military 
 scheme has enabled uncle Horace, with his usual address, •■ to kill two birds with ooa ( 
 htoue." I will go bo the academy as a kind of pensioner, to be snub bod and jeered rtt 
 by the wealthy cadets, and therefore my expenses wilt be to him moons lerable, while t 
 will be obtaining a good education and an honorable profession ; and if 1 contrive to go:- 
 through with credit, I will doubtless geta lieulenantcy in the army, v inch will pay about 
 as well as a third-rate . ierkship in some mercuntile establishment and keep me cot 
 ip in a marine fortress, or bauished to the wild frontier during the whole of my w« 
 life, like some unfortunate state prisoner or political exile.' 
 
 'You paint a gloomy picture of it,' said Charley. 'If you object to the schema 
 er, oppose it nt once". If you are young, you have a righi trd in a matto 
 
 bf such importance to yourself. If you prefer some other calling, my father will, 1 know. 
 lend yon any amount of money necessary to pursue it for my. sake.' 
 
 ' Oh. no,' replied Walter, quickly ; ' I could r.ot think ol such a thing. It is too hu- 
 miliating to be in debt. I liud it bitter enough to be under obligations to those- from 
 whom i have a rigid fo expect favors, ever to consent to accept them from those upon 
 whom 1 have no claim. Besides, the plan you propose is rather to) uncertain, It 
 would take a large sum to enable me to graduate in law or medicine, and then I might 
 not succeed. Or if 1 should ultimately succeed, either profession would not be immedi- 
 ately seli-supporting, while that which uncle Horace has chosen for me '.'.'ill he. Ai 
 the military profession is not lucrative, it is certainly very honorable, and in my case 
 very sure. Vou know the army \s almost universally chosen for the younger sou of the 
 British nobility, and is patronized by the first families in Virginia.' 
 
 ' Very true,' was the response, ' I dare say that with your pride, the glory will quite 
 outweigh the hardships of a soldier's life. You know that all the big meu of history 
 were soldiers. Who knows, Walter, but that you may be another Ca*sar, or Napoleon, 
 loading powerful armies, and dazzling the world with your skillfully planned campaigns 
 and brilliant victories.' 
 
 •Nonsense! said Walter, laughing. 'Promotion is rather slow iu our army ; 3nd 
 even if 1 possessed the talents of a Caesar, or a Napoleon, I would scarcely have an op- 
 portunity to display them. Dou't you know that Mr. Heed told us, only this afternoon 
 in our history class, that so far as human foresight could penetrate, America seemed 
 doomed to yens, perhaps centuries, of unbroken peace; that the Monroe doctrine, which 
 had become the established policy of our government, would secure us forever against eu- 
 
 ■ 
 
A CHICKAHOMINY STORY. 5 
 
 tanglcments with foreign nations, while the, extent, the weal:'; aiid" power of our country 
 would enable us to control our feebler neighbors on this Continent.' 
 
 ' Ye?,' observed Charley ; ' bur, have you forgotten what We were pleas d to term the 
 
 idiosv ncracy of Mr. Heed's French friend, Monsieur Boesieux, whovtsjtcd hioi last year? 
 
 Ho declared, Vbll kno\V",'tbat the American people were treading on a voli'MiO ; that thfl 
 
 t extent of out territory, arid the wide diversity <»f opinion and interest between too 
 
 r el its different sections, would inevitably lead to dbronUou and revolution ; anil 
 
 I boldly predicted I ctiuji.: 1 animosities, so ajppai' r to 1 foreigner, would 
 
 w their bitter fruits in intestine war before the present gi ration should be yatheroi: 
 
 t . their fathers.' • * 
 
 1 Pshaw !' "exclaimed voting Maynard contemptuously, ' w!y" does \ Frenchman know 
 about American politics V HoWever, we can pardon his error if his opiniori of government 
 - founded on French Listory, and his views of human nature are derived from tho 
 contemplation of Hkj French character, lint we Ami macleof nraiur material. 
 
 it would be ridiculous to compare tire glorious republic established by pur •■> - n i. \- reyo- 
 to tho monstrous abortion brought threes of 
 
 itless revolution of France, and il is 1 ' •-■ ri ooinpare 
 
 - uis, who arc charged with the maictenanc artd 1 mbi of Our jJQvesniMe.uli, to tho 
 ignorant and fren '.icd rabble wh 1 attempted the same experim at in M. I'> issjeux's coiw- 
 Iry, an i failed. Ho saw with a Frenchman's eye, and judged with a Frenchman;'* judg- 
 ment- a-?/;:»_.-- ■ ' 'i I) ■ .', tctiotl was going e was misled by the 
 violence of p uent; in is now over, ami - (foundry quiet 
 ouutry is. 
 'Yep, 1 said Charley, 'and very probably if he is in America now he has already 
 1 his mind. What is that beautiful figure, Walter, of the tamons Druid's stone 
 pmstd that it may be rocked to its very eefllBfl by the touch of an 
 '. tli" e.oml i n ', ngth <»f an acrny of . t. .-: g rnbu cannot overt!) 
 appropriate it is to our gnvenjmenl 
 Tims tiis ■ ese sage philosophers' and profound \ iliticians of seventeen*; and 
 they bat] done discussing tl f the nation. th,\ r turned Agftiu to their own, 
 and took up'- the subject of Walter's future prospects in his :ou t\ 
 Naturally enough, their favorite heroes among the military character* of history were 
 
 r campaigns and battles gone o?er, and their relative merits dticussed) . 
 
 until the two youths grew quite enthusiastic in praise of a military career. Charley 
 
 tial spirit wis fully aroujed in him, and that ho felt quite as bel- 
 
 . if after going to Pole Gr< ;u to muster and drinking 
 
 Ct quart or so of moan whiskey, he was lighting the battle of Yen<t,,u n over for tour d 
 
 (:i the ardor of I nt he determined to accompany Ids friend to West IViut, if ids 
 
 ■ insert t to it, and be a soldier too, 
 
 Juatatthi v.ts attracted by the trami'ing of hoofs b<!.i!:d them, 
 
 'king in ti at direction they saw a beautiful apparition emerging from the deep 
 
 It was that of a dainty, fairy-like, girlish figure sitting 
 
 I illy upon n small white poDy. By her side, on a larger horse of dark c dor, rodo 
 
 a large, homely ami awkward boy, to whose" linen roundeb nt, a pretty, timid-looking 
 
 little fellow, who wag riding behind him. clung nervously as he urged the horsa to a brisk 
 
 g dlop to keep up with the rapid pace of the little lady's white palfrey. A negro groom, 
 
 b encuml 1 real With satchels and carpet-bags, brought up the rear of the cavalcado. 
 
 'It is Nellie and Bernard Gardiner going home, and Bob II ar ism is i;--'\n^ with them,' 
 
 Charley. 
 The two boys had arisen on the approach of the party, but absorbed in watching 
 Nellie's splendid horsemanship, and looking at her pretty face and figure they had for-' 
 gotten to move ■■ d ■, ai ' toad in a position to slightly obstruct the" road. 
 
 way, fellows,' cried Uobett Harrison rudely and imperiously, bearing 
 11 upon them. 
 
 218334 
 
(j THE RIVALS: 
 
 They stepped aside instantly, and politely touched their lints to the youug lady, while 
 an angry flush mantled Walter's dork cheek, and a smile, half amused and half contemn* 
 tuously, parted dharle^'e flexile lips. 
 
 Nellie gracefully retnrned their salutation, and said reproachfully as they swept hy, ' 0,. 
 Cousin Robert, what makes you bo rude?' 
 
 When they had passed, Charley, who stood looking after the girl with his whole heart 
 in his eyes, observed to his friend, i Nellie is a pretty little thing.' 
 
 ' Yes.' replied Walter, regarding her retreating figure with a look half admiring, half 
 speculative, 'very pretiy. But she will be still prettier when she gets older ; and she 
 will he quite a belle, I expect; for they say she is worth fifty thousand dollars indepen- 
 dently of her mother, who is wealthy.' 
 
 ' lbw unlike she and Boh Harrison arc for cousins,' remarked Charley. * 
 
 'Very unlike,' was the response. ' Bob Harrison is, undoubtedly, the most conceited, 
 pompons and purse-proud fool that' ever lived. I intend to let him sec that 1 am not 
 to 1 e treated « ith contempt by him. if he does happen to be rich while I am poor. When 
 next he finds occasion to accost me it must be in terms wore respectful than those he 
 Used jnst now.' 
 
 ' Fiddlesticks !' said Charley, ' who Cares for what Bob Harrison docs? Vc is beneath 
 the contempt of a sensible body. His airs of superiority, taken in eonjiiction with Ids 
 real and apparent inferiority, make him appear so ridiculous that I am more inclined 
 to laugh at than he angry with him.' 
 
 • O. vmi can afford to be philosophical,' replied his friend, 'yon are his < [oal in 
 wealth'.'. 
 
 ' But not in birth.' said Charley, smiling, ' at least, according to his standard. The 
 honorable Mr. Harrison thinks me as much, or more his inferior than he esteems you to 
 be. Have v«tii forgotten the ineffable, and unutterable contempt, with which he railed out. 
 en one occasion when I had received at the hand: of our school-mates f - h.*nOf 
 
 which he i nnsidtred due to his super-cm in eYit station and abilities,.' Charles . 
 ecu of ■•' Ci rpi . * 
 
 • Wei'/ remarked Walter. ' if your father is a'earpenter he has made a large fortune 
 honestly at the trade, and he has won an enviable position in the community hy h\s en- 
 
 Aergy. strong sense and strict integrity. No man in the county possesses the rev!,, ■ and 
 coi 'fid. 'tice of his fellow-citizens t(j<rh*gher degree. You have nothing to be ashamed 
 
 • of in him ' 
 
 1 T" he ashamed of. repeated Charley, warmly ; ' I reckon not... It would take n great 
 deal to make me ashamed of my own father. 1 hope he may never have any more cause 
 to 1 e ashamed of me than I have to be ashamed of him.' 
 
 ' Halloa ! there boys we've b.en looking for you for an hour,' cried some of their school- 
 mates. 'approaching from the academy. • You've missed all the fun. The gir's got around 
 Mr. aid Mrs; Beed after school, and teased them om. of th ir consent- to have th» 4th of 
 Jnl'v ball we'd all been talking about. They've agreed to give up tons, after the exam- 
 ination, the srhdoi-roon.s and parlor and dining-room. and let ns arrangeeverythinsr as we 
 wish. We're to have fire-w.-rks and d inciii" ; and Mr. Reed has promised to show US the 
 Magic Lantern, and all sorts of curious and pretty chemical experiment?,.' 
 
 • Qniti- a medley.' said Walter, smiling sarcastically, at what he thought the childish 
 entbn^om of the speaker 
 
 • Indeed.' said Charley, manifesting a cordial interest in the subject, ' tell me all about 
 it. 1 em sorry T Was not there.' v 
 
 ' 0. there is Hot much to tell, besides what 1 have already told.' replied the boy. • There 
 Will be a meeting Monday morning before school, to arrange the programme of the en- 
 tertninment ; and if yon int. nd to take part in it, Foster, yell had better get your cash 
 "* ready ; for we will have to fork up to the y««nng ladies then, and after the collections are 
 ma'c they will deternfi'ne, with Mrs. Reed's assistance, what part of the funds must go 
 for the fire-works and what nart for refreshments.' * 
 
A OHIOEAHOMINY STORY. , ^ 
 
 ' Let me see what money I have/ paid Charley. ' I have been rather extravagant this 
 quarter, and fear I haven't much, and I would not like to go to my father for more, as his 
 allowance is so liberal.' Tben taking out bis purse be counted the coin out upon his left 
 palm in quite a business-like manner. 
 
 He cou nted ten dollars and a few cents. ' That will do,' said one of the boys; ' I heard 
 Bob Harrison any be meant to give ten dollars.' 
 
 ' l>o, pray, Charley,' said a little boy of the party, 'if Bob Harrison is going to give 
 ten dollars, you try to give twenty just to fn . him and make him ashamed ; he thinks 
 himself so much richer than anybody else.' 
 
 ' If 1 had as much, and it was necessary, Jim, I would willingly give it to contribute 
 to the amusement of the scholars,' replied Charley, ' but not fjr the purpose of fretting 
 Bob Harrison ; he finds enough to fret at without my assistance ; and if I should attempt 
 any experiment upon his disposition it would be to mike it more amiable.' 
 
 After this little dialogue, the hoys separated, the new comers to go iu search of whor- 
 tleberries, and C I Walter to return to the academy. 
 
 When they were alone, Charley remarked to his friend, 'I am glad Mr. and Mrs. 
 Beed have that we may have the ball. I expect to enjoy it jinwly ; don't 
 
 you ?' 
 
 'I care v'< ••• little for such things, and do not expect to remain to it.,' was the reply. 
 
 •Fie !' said Charh y, ' you should not be so unso i >ble. I am afraid that you will end 
 by becoming i misanthrope.' 
 
 'It is not that lam unsociable,' replied Walter, 'hut between me and every social 
 pleasure my curse 1 poverty is constantly coming in. Often when you wish me 
 a visi; with you, I am compelled to declim ny every dav-clojhea are not "ood 
 
 enough to wear, and I dare not wear my single Sunday suit so often, for fear of wearing 
 it out A prs are giving ten dollars apiece 
 
 to this bill, h (hold the munificent donation I am prepared t>> make^ S<> saying, he put 
 wn in his pocket ah ilitary ten cent piece, which he laid 
 
 ^ n ™" iy morning comes, f shall he ;:1 
 
 from the conf) n nCe an I ■ i shf one of Bob Harrison's impertinence when niv 
 
 nanv : called, - pt which the v nteoances 
 
 will express when it it that I am riot able to contribute to the general 
 
 pleasure. Char] ider that I am unsociable?' * 
 
 ' Walter.' said Charley, deeply moved, ' you h • ■• ir misfortune too hard ; and you 
 are to > proud. Why will you not let me help you ? I have a plenty for us both ; and 
 it wo ild give me mo;. to share what I have with you than to spend itentirelv 
 
 on m 
 
 1 Come, Charley Foster.' was the reply, ' you know that you have already loaded me 
 with presents which were offered with so much delicacy and tact that I did not know 
 how to refuse them. I have quite a respectable little library, bearing on the fly leaf of 
 each nd volume, "To W.ilter Mnynard from his attached friend C. F "• 
 
 also a valuable gun and many little things of lens value. Yod have mfver insulted me 
 y et ' me ; " ney.and I hope you nei'crwill ; but you have cunningly c oMtrf ved 
 
 on ni to cover my apparent parsimony and real povertv over with your 
 
 2 C '" '' expenditure. If yon have forgotten these things I have not, nor 
 
 will I ever. If my voice should c\ ! to* den miice yon I prav thai 
 
 n»*> fail m i er , and if my hand sho ild ever be lifted against you. 1 trust that it 
 may be stricken fr<>m my shoulder.' ' 
 
 S'lch wai th,nnd I might -add generms emotion, was very unusual with younc 
 Mayi • xhibition surprised and on rfntrongly. ' All this is'noth- 
 
 in ^ friend's hand. 'lvalue your friendship far a bo vo 
 
 8Uc| money and property, and would* delight in rendering more sub* 
 
 Stan .' 
 
THE RIVALS: 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 * Monday morning fp.uncl the whole school, composed of about a dozen boarders 
 and twice as many day scholars, assembled in the girls' school-room to discuss 
 the subject of the contemplated fete, and arrange the programme of the evening. 
 
 Bob Harrison, who-:- native impudence stood him in need of many a better 
 quality usually considered 'essential to success among nun. had contrived to 
 make himself chairman of the meeting; and seated in a Urge arm-chair upon 
 the estrade, with an air of dignity and self-importance very disproportionate to 
 the occasion, one pen thrust in the mass ot whitish-yellow hair behind his ear, 
 'and another awkwardly suspended between his thumb and fore-finger, cut a 
 most ridiculous figure Charley Foster^ at no great distance, witli a dry smile 
 of quiet amusement on his eounteuanee, was slyly making a skeUh of him in 
 his Latin exercise book, for the benefit of Walter Maynard, who was the only 
 one of Mr. Reed's pupils absent on this interesting occasion. 
 
 After having brought, the meeting to order, the chairman proposed that .the 
 roll should be called, and that each one in answering to his name should men- 
 tion the sum he or she desired to contribute to the proposed ball, said name and 
 sum to be immediately recorded by the secretary. To this proposition no ob- 
 jection was made and he proceeded with the measure. When Charley's name 
 was called, he answered promptly, and named five dollars as the amount of his 
 contribution. At this announcement, the august chairman elevated hi< heavj 
 eye-brows, and glancing significantly around the room, with a supercilious smile, 
 said something iitan audible whisper to the secretary about 'not expecting 
 blood out of a turnip." 
 
 Charley's fine face flushed, .and his merry cyescemiftcd an angry Hash, but ii 
 was but momentary ; the -cone struck him as so ludicrous that involuntarily 
 he burst into a laugh of derision, in which the whole school, except Nellie Gar- 
 diner, joined. She was too ashamed and indignant at her cousin's conduct to 
 feel like merriment; ami fixing her beautiful eyes earnestly on his countenance, 
 said in her soft, sweet voice : 
 
 ' Cousin Robert, how can you be so rude : ' 
 
 Totally unabashed by this demonstration, and maintaining unmoved his im- 
 posing dignity, the chairman called the meeting to order, and went on calling 
 the roll. Everything now went on quietly until Walter Maynard \s name was 
 called, when some officious body called out. ' Absent.' 
 
 'Aha!' exclaimed Mr. Harrison, with a knowing look, ' we all under.-; 
 the gentleman.' 
 
 • Thoroughly aroused at this indignity offered to his friend, Charley sprang to 
 his feet, and said hastily: - Waiter is preparing his Creek for recitation: it was 
 inconvenient for him to'be present, -and he commissioned me to act for him. 
 Write five dollars opposite his ijame ; I will hand it in with mine, to the secre- 
 tary, at the close of the meeting.'" 
 
 • After this, nothing occurred to mar the general harmony, and Mrs. Reed 
 coming in soon after to assist in their deliberations, everything was satisfacto- 
 rily adjusted. 
 
 The fourth of July arrived in due season, though, to Mr. Reed's impatient 
 pupils, old Time seemed to halt on this stage of his journey. The school exer- 
 cises for that term were completed, the trying examinations were over, and the 
 delightful bustle of preparation for the fete, which had afforded so many 
 charming episodes to the young ladies and gentlemen of the academy, was ended. 
 
A CHICK AIIOMTXV STORY. Q 
 
 • The grounds were brilliantly lighted by colored lanterns, ingeniously con- 
 structed of wooden frames, covered with tissue paper, lump among the boughs 
 of the tree-. The school-room, newly white-Washed and scoured for the occa- 
 sion, and Ornamented with garlands of dowers and evergreens, was sel out. 
 with long tables, bearing, in the most tasteful arrangement imaginable, a sump- 
 tuous repast. And the parlor and dining-room of the academy building, taste- 
 fully adorned with vases and garlands of flowers, and appropriate mottoes 
 formed of evergreens, were prepared for dancing, a couple of negro Tiddlers 
 occupying a litle platform in the hall between the doors opening into each room. 
 
 The young gentlemen of the academy, and many of their friends who had ar- 
 rived early, in all the glory of their best broad-cloth coats, white- pants ami 
 vests, and kid gloves, were standing about the doors, < r in the hall and parlors, 
 awaiting the descent of the charming nymphs, who, in an animated buz of con- 
 versation and laughter, and a delightful rustle and flutter of drapery, were 
 arranging themselves for the ball in the dressing-rooms up stairs. 
 
 What charming things are youth and beauty — or even tke youth without the 
 beauty! For what does one care for beauty when the rich young blood, Un- 
 parched by fever, and unchilled by age, is dancing through the veins to tho 
 rapid measures of unheard, but not unfelt • soul -music, whose iti spiriting strains 
 vibrate with intoxicating rapture upon every joyous nerve; when the fresh 
 young brain, unia\ed by thought or care, teems with quick intuitions and joy- 
 ous fancies: and when the bu tyant young heart, which has never felt ihe dull, 
 heavy aching of anxiety, or the paralyzing grasp of fear, hound, .in a joyous 
 harmony with the thrilling pulses through days of unclouded sunshine and 
 nights of soi\ slumber and heavenly dreams! How intensely do the young 
 enjoy the pleasures suitable to their years ! yea. how intensely do they enjoy 
 everything which is in the least enjoj abb- ! And how refreshing is the contem- 
 plate Lu happiness to their elders, whose weary heads and tried h< I 
 robbed by time ol the capacity of originating joy, are forced to r cerre it at se- 
 cond hand, by reflection', as it were. 
 
 Some such remark as this Mr. Heed addressed to Mr. Foster, senior, who 
 standing beside him in one of the parlors, watching his son and several other 
 youths arranging for a dance and urging the musicians to strike up as tke sureBb 
 method of hastening the advent of the young ladies. They were indeed an an- 
 imated and merry party. Charley was radii nt with happiness, and even Wal- 
 ter-, who had been prevailed en by his friend to be present, showed in his air 
 and manner an unrestrained gayety and satisfaction as new to him as it WAS.be>- 
 coming. He was indeed looking extremely h tndsoaae and good-natured. For 
 happinessisa great beautifier, as well asa great moral power. Who ever thought 
 a happy countenance homely : or what happy man ( ver committed a crime ? 
 
 Presently, to the great delight of the impatient young gentlemen in attend- 
 ance, there was a Hotter of drapery on the stairs, which announced that the 
 girls were about to descend to the parlors; and in a few moments they hove 
 in sight, preceded by certain benign-loeking mammas and aunts who had como 
 to the ball professedly to give character and propriety to the entertainment, but 
 who were really almost as much interested in the contemplated amusement as 
 their young relatives themselves. And \\ hen the pcoec jsion of blushing, smiling 
 Hebes at length entered the beautifully decorated rooms, what a lovely picture) 
 thej* made. with their bright eyes and coral lips, round arms and snowy ne 
 How beautiful was their shining hair, wreathed with garlands of leaves and Buds. 
 And how enptivatin : tin ir supple, delicately-rounded Ggures looked draped in 
 fleecy muslin, whose snowy whiteness was only relieved by give 
 of pink or blue ribbon. 
 
20 THE RIVALS: 
 
 The foremost in this galaxy of youth and beauty, undoubtedly, was Nellie 
 Gardiner. So Charley decided at once, and be whispered as much to Walter as" 
 arm-in-arm they started to join her on tbe other side of the room. She was 
 leaning on the arm of her mother, a delicate, elegant-looking woman, whose 
 bearing was very aristocratic, and whose manners, otherwise affable and lady- 
 like, were tinged with haughtiness, and was pointing out to her the decora- 
 tions. 
 
 'There is the Hag you made, mamma, 5 she said, pointing to the mantel, which 
 was ornamented by the bust of Washington draped in the American flap:. The 
 august brow of the Father of his Country was crowned with laurel, and on the 
 wall behind, at a little distance above, was written in living green, 'The Amer- 
 ican Union,' while a rich garland of English ivy, running cedar, and tissue-paper 
 roses, enclosed both the motto and the bust. Around the room were festoons 
 of flowers, and similarly formed mottoes equally patriotic and appropriate. 
 
 Mrs. Gardiner was admiringly inspecting and approving, when our young 
 friends approached. Charley, who was a -neighbor and a particular friend of 
 Bcnard's, knew her well, but Waiter had to be introduced. 
 
 She received her son's friend very graciously, and holding out her hand to 
 WaHer, said : 
 
 'lam happy to make your acquaintance, as I know many of your family. 
 Your Uncle Horace is a particular friend of mine; and T also know your aunts, 
 though I have not met with them recently. Are they here to-night-.* 8 
 
 ' My Aunt Emeline is present,' said Walter, glancing around the room, 'and 
 will be pleased to meet you. There she is, now, entering the room with Mrs. 
 Reed ; shall I bring her to you ?' 
 
 'We will ?o to her,' said Mrs. Gardiner, with a smile, and leading the way. 
 Miss Emetine Maynard belonged to that interesting class of society denomi- 
 nated 'old maids,' and was, moreover, one of the most exaggerated specimens 
 of her class. What was her age it is impossible 10 say, sir.- (resting 
 
 fact, if it was ever recorded, must have been registered among the Apocryphal 
 books of the family bible, it was so very i uncertain.' The landmarks which 
 time had set upon her face and figure, were utterly ignored and stoutly contra- 
 dicted by the manners and costume of the lady herself. In hey youth, allowing 
 that to have passed, she must have possessed a certain kind of beauty, such as 
 is constituted by plumpness and fairness and vividness of coloring ; but the 
 wear and tear of lift had greatly impaired, if they had not wholly destroyed it. 
 Ther- was in her countenance none of that higher order of beauty begotten of a 
 cultivated and elevated mind and a heart warmed by the noblest and gentlest 
 affections of humanity; for Miss Emeline's thoughts and desires wer.e all 'of 
 the earth, earthy.' To disguise from others the poverty which was painfully 
 and constantly 'perceptible to herself, and to secure a. husband, bad been, from 
 her early years, the chief end and aim of her existence; and although so f«r un- 
 successful', vet, with a diligence and perseverance which, -if ex- rted in a belter 
 cause, would doubtless have immortalized her, she was still pursuing the same 
 ends. An occasion offering such opportunities as the present, did not ol'rcn 
 present itself to her, and she was making the most of it. When Mrs. Gardiner 
 approached her, she was standing between Mr. Tomlin, a spry widower, whose 
 two daughters were among the academy pupils, and Mr. Sloan, Mr. Feed's as- 
 rf&nit liviniinj! 1im- (allow neck and shaking lit* shadowy, lustreless rumlets with 
 as many coquettish airs and -r.u-cs as a girl nf six'cen. Accustomed though she was 
 to mh-'i exhibitions, Waller cu'd m>t fail to be disgusted, and a shadow passed over 
 bis couiitemime as he npprosiclterl her. She was fluttered by the notice of a lady so 
 wealthy and aristocratic as Mi's. Gardiner, and for a moment loosened her hold on the 
 
A CHICKAHOMINY STORY. j^ 
 
 patience and politeness of the gentleman, who took advantage cf the opportunity to 
 escape to the viciaity of some of the oldest and fairest of Mr. Heel's pupils. 
 
 The fire-works were to be exhibited early in the evening, as the moan would mo 
 later and its beams would grcitly mar their effect. So, as soon as the guests were 
 assembled, the-signal was given, when the_y all repaired to the p >rches and groin Is to 
 Witness their exhibition When Walter had offered his arm to Mrs. Gardiner to con- 
 duct her t<t his aunt, Charley had very gallantly offered his to Ndlie for a prom male; 
 and. therefore, he had the pleasure of conducting her t .» a rustic seit in the grove, and 
 remaining there with her for an hour during the pyrotechnic exhibition. Walter, who 
 entertained- i. particular fondness for the fair sex, and whose fastidious taste found 
 something to object to in every one of his young lady acquaintance*, except Ndlie, 
 was a little chagrined at this; but he bad made Up his mind, very horoioa'l v. to do 
 his duty by escorting his Aunt Emetine, when C.airiey's father relieved him of the 
 unpleasant necessity by offering his arm to Miss Miynard. 
 
 Foster fits, who is pretty well known to the reader, was simply a revised and im- 
 proved edition of Foster pre. who is just being introduced. There W*8 a striking 
 rescmUfnce between; them in face, figure and carriage, and also in language and Win- 
 ners except that the superior advantages of education an I society which C tarley had 
 enjoyed, told iu his favor. Bit though the early years of the elder gmt ! en\o liad 
 liper, passed in decent poverty and moderate toil, yet about him there wis no cnr.so- 
 ness or rudeness to offend the mist fastidious. His cole of etiquette, suggested by a 
 good mind arrfl a good heart, was sufficiently refined to pleise in mv society, ail his 
 Iflngu <u r e. simple and terse, was generally c trreefc. (lis sioip'e, innate dignity, straight- 
 forward frankness, and unpretending naturalness, afforded a most stri kin j contrast to 
 Miss l<>Mi'liii-*s silliness and affectation. 
 
 Fi'ding himself thus pleasantly relieved of the care of his aunt, Wa'ter setoff to 
 seek Charlie ami Nellie, and s jon joined them in the grove. 
 
 When the pyrotechnic exhibition was ended, the dmcing Comijeiced, ail ivas con- 
 tinue) m^o'ixI Ii-mu-s. aTt«r which suppsM" was served ; and then Mr. II ■■ a I exhibited 
 the Magic 1. intern, Drnnmond Light, Sty Altogether, it wis a chtmvng eve ning, 
 and di'sf'ned to be remembered as am mg the hippiestin the Rvei of Several of tho 
 personages in our story. 
 
 During the evening, Charley had ox traded a promise from Miss Emetine that Wat- 
 ter should retnrn hone with him from the academy and spend several weeks with him. 
 And that, lady, pleased with his mmners and be-iring, and with his Cither's attentions, 
 without whtoti she must have in ide an awkward appearance, hid also invited Mm to 
 make Walter a v:>it during the holiday-. 
 
 The farm on which Mr. Foster had resi led ever since his retirement f.om business irj 
 R?««hmotrd. */»« situate I about live miles from that city, n 'ir \\\- If ichaniosville uru- 
 in an angle formed hv the Chiekah«miny River, >>-. 'Swunp.'as it is Called in tint 
 vieoi'.ty. ir.d the 15 • iver Dun Creek, a tributary of the Chicltahomin V. Mrs. G»rdui o's 
 estate was boated several miles lower down on the 'Swimp,' and bsynni 1 the 15-iver 
 Itani ', and as Char ey had do bro'her and Bernard w is an mrly s > \, they, bei ig *3h i >!- 
 mates, were often together, and greatly attached to each other though the latter wis 
 gome font years younger than the former. I) irinj Walter'* visit to his ir. n I '•*. th •/ 
 Were almost constantly at Mr. flKrdiner'.s, whf.n Bernard wis riot with them ; ml a 
 gloriou- lime they h >d n( it, hunting along the bmks of the (' lick ih i n nv 'i n I M I iVef 
 Dam or fishing in tl, >se streams or in the spond at K ly son's Mill, where ma iy ni toe i lb 
 and silver pere.h were caught. Of course they saw a great deal of X ■ ; t >i* 
 
 tini" She frequently mideoiw of the fishing party, add they r< I 
 bark nlnvmt daily. It would b • »i*pe r flu ow to nay h<iw mi 'h her presi 1 
 
 their pleasure on such occasions; and u 
 
 made upon their yoiinu hearts by such delighfffll and linre-ti •. out in 
 
 the still, deep forest, beside the rippling waters, and under the blight, 1 u"r 
 
 
jfjj . THE RIVALS: 
 
 pkies. Three of them, at least, never forgot those charming rides alone; the smooth 
 country roads, edfced with green turf anrl brilliant wild flowers, and bordered by straws 
 of noblcforest, or by straggling rail fences covered over with the magnificent trumpet 
 vine «r.d the luxuriant branches of wild grape end sloe vines. Nor could they fail to 
 > omen? be: those delightful rambles along the Chickahominy, whou they amused c i 
 other by tracing resemblances to Indian warriors and wigwams, in the high, I'anf > 
 roots, nod gnarled, knotty trunks of the venerable trees around them, which hid n- 
 shaded the Red Men of the forest, and exercised their memories by narrating such 1 - 
 (jendfl and local traditions as had been handed down to thtm, or their imaginatim 3 ; \ 
 weaving little fictions of their own ; while Nellie twined garlands of ferns and wild 
 vdpes, and the boys rippled the dark bosom of the murky, sluggish stream by ra^tipg 
 info it little muse! 1 shells gathered along its banks. And in after years, above t!w rioi • 
 est drains of music, or the deafening roar of cannon and the ceaseless rattle of moskcfci \ . 
 •each of tbem could recall the drowsy burn of the mid-wheel, borne to their ears on the 
 the soft summer air as they sat en the shady hill-side, with their corks floating )■'.%* on 
 the dark waters edging the woods, while the netting siui lit up the broad bosom r»l 
 |>Gud with gorgeous rainbow tints, and the soft, sweet sounds of the closing suiivroei 
 da^, rising tin from Jfae water and the woods, blended in one deep, rich vesper h 
 < £ praise to the God of Nature. 
 
 When, after four Greeks spent with his friend, Walter was returning home, Charity 
 rained to accept MTss Emelihje's invitation and accompany him. l>is father, who 
 had happened once accidentally to dine at Poplar Lodge, the residences of the Misses 
 t.'aynard, did not give a very favorable account of the commissariat ol the establishment^ 
 'and Walter had hinted that his aunts were very economical housekeepers: but ibis did 
 not deter Charley, who laughingly replied to his father's warning by saying thai aftei 
 feasting as he had done all vacation, he could afford to live one week, like a 'near iw 
 mioier, by sucking his paws. 
 
 ' Well, my son, you must not let the ladies see you at it, : said the old g oH t lwum i, ' fur 
 whatever is lacking in bread and meat is made up in etiquette and style. None but 
 beet toanners will be tolerated there. Have you never noticed how very punch 
 young Maynard is? ' 
 
 Poplar Lodge was situated on the south side of the ChtckahoRtiny, in Henrico con: I 
 rear a point now known as Fair Oak Station, on the York River railroad. It was .1 
 nest, r-r. ag little place, but very unprofitable to the owner?, owing to imperfect cultiva- 
 tion, from the want of sufficient labor, for the Misses Mayuurd owned- no servant except 
 tin elderly man and his wife, a haif grown boy, and some younger children ; and they 
 were not able to hire. Still, with rigid economy, they were able to make quite a gen- 
 teel appearance. The little square yard which surrounded the hm.se was bordered, in- 
 (drJo of the white palings enclosing it, by a formal row of Lombardy Poplars, and laid 
 off in narrow gravel walks edged with flowers, which were Miss Emeline's especial care; 
 while the grass plats they enclosed were kept scrupulously clear of weeds and rubbish 
 by the old man servant, who had been gardener for Walter's grandfather in the palmiest 
 daya of the family, and who delighted in keeping up, as far as their reduced circum- 
 stances would permit, all the style and formula which had then been observed. This 
 Rame old negro — Uncle Tom he would have been called anywhere else in Virginia, but 
 r.bn Misses. May nard called him Uncle Thomas — was quite a character, and reminded 
 C'uuiey. whom his idiosynciacies greatly amused, of the ingenious and attached butler 
 of the Master of Ravenswood. On tho first day of his arrival Charley saw him hard at 
 work in a little corn patch near the house all the morning; but wheu the, dinner hour 
 f>viived and he and Walter lepaired to their chamber to prepare for the meal. Uncle 
 Thomas brought them water and towels, aud insisted on helping them to make their 
 toilettes. He was proceeding to brush the suit Charley had rode in, preparatory to 
 buying it in the wardrobe, when the latter objected, saying, ' Don't trouble yourself 
 to wait on us, Uucle Thomas; I can wait on myself. 1 have been doing nothing .11 
 
« Xcv, Mars Walter," rtpttti Thomas, fcprovinglg. 
 
. A C8ICKAH0MINY STORV. 15 
 
 day, and am better able to brush that coat than you. who mtisl 6a tired with working 
 in the sun.' 
 
 ' Indeed,' said nncle Thomas, with dignity, straightening up his boot figure, 'I'm 
 never too tired to wait on my youOg master's isitdrs* I dou'l hart mysfelf with work ; 
 I ain't obliged to work ; no! • woik to Thoovtf. g 9 here ain't on. 
 
 as grand a scale aa I was always used to, and many fewer colored folks 
 
 than I w;.s raised with, and not so much • with the white folks as used to be, I 
 
 gets sorter lonesome, a id to set the youngsters a good 
 
 example and teach 'em industrious habits. \ x udon't keep many of ounpeople at home 
 now, though. The family was unfortttuaJ had to sell our forgo 
 
 estate on lb rid we ain'l ace fun all our men, so we hire 
 
 'em out in I 
 
 'I v Christmas, 1 ucle Thomas;,' said 
 
 ■, signihcai 
 
 ' Now what i . Mars v I '• ' Don't I wart on 
 
 i — what .you wan'; with 'etq h 
 
 ' We!!, then, I f the mosey they hire far,' raid his 
 
 young m isl '1 think it is very selfish in you to spend it all ou your- 
 
 self, Uncle Tl •wnas.' " 
 
 'Now, Mars Waiter,' replied Thomas, repi vingly, •- this the gentlemanly; manners 
 roe and your am d tryi.ng to teach you ever since you was left an orphan toour 
 
 care, to be mi j t| ■ .' Then tell- 
 
 ing the young gentlemen to ring if they wanted ;n, ■ re, Thomas bowed iiimself 
 
 out of the r 
 
 Wbe i the I s descended to the dining room - id him arrayed in a long v 
 
 apron, with whi i n and a w i ljug gravely behind 
 
 in 1 napkins of tho 
 finest damask, a I rich o hi i - pieces of oddly matched, but 
 
 ) ami- ■ heir loon I relic* of its former 
 
 ur. 
 
 The dish tll,a\id tl i so much 
 
 form, such a flourishi of plates, Uncle Thomas was so im- 
 
 posing .' ; so dignified i and Mis 5 so affable, that, somehow, Charley, 
 
 who b-ui ft • r his ride, fortunatdj upletely. 
 
 At dinner he had an opportunity I he not met 
 
 before. SI r toad M given up beuix and taken to caps 
 
 pec to ! bed up to her, and v ■ Iter si3ter 
 
 as quite a ; Family pride irncter, and tho 
 
 her hobby. Charley had not use before 
 
 he had had a minul of evory branch >>l .ions. 
 
 Walter i tldnk with brr on this. subject, was much interested 
 
 in the top | with having his ancient pedigeee ami high connections 
 
 paradi | 
 
 Charley, who ! . red from Ids father, who considered 
 
 such]' ld observation of the latter to the i weould 
 
 all traj ne ir laughing, 
 
 , ii. Miss Maj ii 
 
 Nor did Miss I | iocord with l ■ tainedby 
 
 rei lemberad with regret oua or two eligible offers which she uad 
 
 • ne apj hi r hand were, to express 
 
 't in Mia . i plaint rigin ;" and she lu. 1 mentally resolved that this 
 
 consideration should uever weicrh with her a milarcircun >'ely, 
 
 howevir. we fenr that her di don (fas arrived ■( 
 
 Alter i week spenl j 'ar Lodg '.vl taken many pririRa notes 
 
1(3 THE RIVALS: 
 
 on (he ladies and Uncle Thomas., for the volume on human nature which lie was men- 
 tally compiling, Charley returned home, The visit, by miking him acquainted with 
 Walter's home and relatives, had given him an insight into the character and conduct of 
 his friend which he had never had before. He saw that the cold., hard atmosphere of the 
 false life at the Lodge was not favorable to the growth of those amiable social virtues 
 which, in spite of his partiality, he had mentally acknowledged young .Maynard t-i be 
 deficient in ; and he pittieri more than he blamed him for the want of them, and resolved, 
 by redoubled affection and kindness, to atone, as far as lay in his powci . for the sternness' 
 of Miss Judith and the indifference of Miss Emetine. 
 
 Wh le the young gentlemen had been amusing themselves as we have described, 
 their" families had been preparing for their departure to West Pointy for Mr. Foster 
 had yielded to his son's entreaties and consented that ha might complete his education 
 there. 
 
 The time had nearly arrived for t.hom to leave, and after a few farewell vi&its made 
 in company, including a very pathetic leave-taking of their former teachers and their 
 favorite haunts about the old academy; they set off on their j nirney. and were joined 
 in Richmond by Bob Harrison, who was going to the same institution. Neither Char- 
 ley nor Walter was particularly pleased to have his company ; but he was somewhat 
 subdued by the recent parting with his family, and a little cowed at the idea of going 
 among strangers, and to was more endurable than they expected him to be. Still the 
 hoys contemplated, with much pleasure, the taking-down that awaited him at West 
 Point. 
 
 CHAPTER IIL 
 
 Four years after the period treated of in the lust chapter, on a warm summer after- 
 noon, a hack, or hired carriage, from Richmond, might have been seen proceeding 
 leisurely along the Mechanicsville Turnpike, through a cloud of dust which followed 
 in its track. 'The two large traveling trunks strapped on behind, a couple of port- 
 manteaus upon the boot, and the same number of well tilled carpet hags on the front- 
 Beat of the coach, indicated that the two handsome voting gentleman, in cadot's Uni- 
 form, occupying, the back seat, had traveled some distance. And, indeed, thev had 
 come a good way. having left the highlands of the Hudson only a few days before ; 
 for, in spite of their military dress, Iheir Sruad chests, manly voices and heavy mous- 
 taches, we recognize in the travelers our old frier.ds, Walter Maynnd and Charley 
 Foster. Their military training had developed their boyish forms into models of 
 manly strength and vigor, and though Charley was still taller and stouter than Wal- 
 ter, yet there was in the lithe figure of the latter a supple grace very pleasing. His 
 face, too, was strikingly handsome, though still less pleasing than Charley's : but his- 
 countenance had* greatly improved in agreeableness of expression since we last saw 
 him. Those four years at West Point had been happy ones for him, affording, as 
 they did, an opportunity for Ins ambition to feed upon the applause and distinction 
 which his superior diligence and abilities* won for him among his fellow students; and 
 he looked and felt in a better humor with the woild than he had ever do-e before. 
 The two had graduated with honor, but as yet were indecisive in the matter of retain- 
 ing their commissions in the army. The friendship between them had greatly strength- 
 ened during these past four years ; and they were dubbed by their mutual friends at 
 West Point, " Jonathan and David." They were, indeed, more like brothers than 
 friends; and the well-fided purse with which Mr. Foster kept his son supplied, minis- 
 tered alike to the wants of both ; for although Walter would not accent money, yet 
 Charley never made a purchase for himself that he did not make a. similar one for his 
 friend; and all their furloughs for little excursions to New York, All any, &c, were 
 always gotten together, when Charley proposed all the amusements and quietly footed 
 
A CHICKAHOMINY STORY. • 17 
 
 the bills. They were now on their way to Beaver Dam, Charley's home, to spend the 
 summer months. 
 
 Walter was leaning back in his cornet of the carriage, with his aristocratic little feet 
 crossed on the scat before him, anil one hand lightly and gracefully supporting a cigar 
 at which ho was slowly puffing away with the practised air of an adept, While with the 
 other he held a daily paper which he was intently perusing, Charley was bending out 
 of the carriage, with the stump of a half extinguished cigar between the thumb and 
 forefinger of his right hand, and amusing himself by whistling to a stray cur which was 
 following them, and talking to the driver. 
 
 'Do you hear that, Walter?' he said, turning suddenly and addressing himself to his 
 friend. ' This uncle says that his wife lives at M's. Gardiner's, and that there is to bei 
 a large party tnere to-morrow night, given in honoi of Miss Nellie's birthday. Our 
 arrival is just in time.' 
 
 'Just out of time, you had better say,' replied Walter. They will not hear of it itt 
 time to send us invitations.' 
 
 ' 0, I will see that they arc duly apprised of that circumstance,' said Charley, laugh- 
 ing. ' I_ had intended calling ou Bernard to-morrow morning, and I shan't let theso 
 tidings deter me, I assure you.' 
 
 ; How strange and how delightful,' he went on, icis to be back in old Hanover again, 
 with the privilege of staying as long as one pleases. I say, old fellow, you and I ought 
 to be pretty well versed in military doings; we've been kept close enough at it during 
 the last (our years — tew and far betweeu our furloughs have been. I dare say the girls 
 about here have quite outgrown my knowledge of them. There is Nellie Gardiner that 
 f haven't seen but once in four years, and that was ouly for a short time during my 
 first furlough. Whenever I have been home since, she was away at school. I wonder 
 how she. looks — whether she is as pr?tty as ever? ' 
 
 ' Look out and 66e,' said Walter, who had been gazing dreamily down the road, while 
 Charley was talking, ' Yonder comes a little grey pony wondrously like the one Nellio 
 used to ride, and a little lady on it wondrously like Nellie herself, while riding with her 
 is a boy I could swear to be Bernard.' 
 
 .Inst as they reached the Chickihomtny, the carriage and the aquestrian party met ; 
 and there being a good ford below the bridge, the coachman drove into the stream t<» 
 wuter his horses at the very moment that Nellie and Bernard chose the same route. 
 They met. therefore, vis-a-ri.i in that classic stream. 
 
 Bernard was tha first to recognize them, aud cried delightedly* 'Good evening! Sis- 
 ter, here are Charley and Walter come home just in time for your party, as you were 
 wishing only the other day.' 
 
 tfellie, at this, looked up with a pleased smile on the same beautiful face they ramem- 
 bered so well, and approaching the carriage Willi her brother, held out to them the 
 identical little hand, scarcely an atom larger than they had known it. whose gentle clasp 
 sent the same delightful thrill to their hearts as in the olden time, when they were boys 
 and girl together. 
 
 A few momenta r«f delightful conversation they had then, with the cool waters rip- 
 pling softly around the carriage wheels and the horses' feet, the setting sun gilding the 
 tree tops, and a little cool evening breeze which had come up from the Swamp, dallying 
 coquettish ly with Nellie's floating veil and glossy hair, when the coachman reminded 
 our travelers that he had to get back to town that night, as his carriage was engaged for 
 an early hour the next morning. Upon this announcement they were preparing to take 
 leave, when Bernard informed them that he had reached , the limit proposod by Nellie 
 before starting for their ride, and that as they would be together at Mr. Foster's gato 
 there was do use in saying good-byo yet. 
 
 Before they had proceeded far, it occurred to Charley that Bernard was occupying a 
 very enviable position, and his manners being of tha freest and easiest, he proposed ao 
 exchange of seats. This was readily acceded to, and he was aoou cantering along by 
 
28 THE RIVALS: 
 
 Nellie's side, as proud and happy as a king is generally supposed f > be. The eques- 
 trian party soou discovered that the dust from the carriage was unendurable, aud rode 
 ahead to avoid it. As Walter gazed down the road after them, looking so haudsonae 
 and so happy, the first bitter feeling that he had over f*it toward his friend sprang up 
 • in his breast. lie feFt jealous and indignant, ana thought that Chu; ley had acted un- 
 generously. Perhaps he had; but who was ever generous in such a m Uter ? 
 
 A beautiful woman never looks so enchanting, so ravishingjy beautiful, as on horse- 
 back, especially if she rides well; and no woman ever roda m. uily than ft 
 ■Gardiner. The lingering tenderness for her which had been smouldering in ( barley's 
 heart ever since those old days at the academy, was. during that ride, fanned into fc 
 flame of love which was destined to bum on the holiest altar in the temple of bis heart 
 while life should be granted him \n which to cherish human passion. And the glimpses 
 that Walter had that evening of her face and figure, the few tones of her voice which 
 met Lis car. and the few glances which fell on him from her melting ''yes, kindled, from 
 the ashes of a certain boyish fancy, vMiicb had Song iaiu dormant in his bosom, a p.issicn 
 which gave the co^or to his whole life. 
 
 After Mr. and Mrs. Foster had retired for the ni^l^, the two friends sat for hours in 
 «ileoce on the porch at Beaver Dam, poking their cigars, gazing out upon the" moon- 
 light, and thinking of Miss Gardiner. 
 
 Since thsy parted with her at the gate, they had uot spoken to each other about her. 
 except that (Jaarlcy bad asked — 
 
 • Do yon think Nellie is much changed, Walter ? ' 
 
 ' Only for the better,' was the reply. 
 
 'Yes, that is it,' replied Charley, ' only for the better. And what a lovely creature 
 she is — what heavenly eyes, and what bewitching manners 1 I never saw such grace- 
 ful ease blended with such charming modesty, or such a beautiful combination of goo- 
 , tlenoss, dignity, frankness and vivacity in the planners of any woman before; did you?' 
 
 •Remember,' replied Walter, curtly, "that I have not had the same opportunity of 
 observiug and analyzing Miss Gauliner's manners that you have, and so am not pro- 
 pared to pronounce upon them.' 
 
 What were their dreams that night, and their waking thoughts the uext day up to 
 the time when they set off to the party, to which they had received the most pre3siDg. 
 invitations, we will leave. the ingenious reader to imagine* 
 
 Mrs. Gardiner's residence, as we have said, was but a few miles from Reaver Dam, 
 and situated ou the Chickahominy. It was a largo wooden building, furnished insijje 
 with richness and elegance, and surrounded on tiie outside by extensive grounds laid off 
 and ornamented with great taste. To-night, the whole house aud a large part of the 
 grounds were ablaze with light; and the numerous carriages ami horsemen dashing down 
 the avenues and sweeping around the circular carnage drive before the house, the groups 
 of men on thi and the glimpses of ladies caught through the partly drawn 
 
 curtains of the brilliantly lighted dressing-rooms, formed a most animated scene as our 
 two embryo lieutenants approached it. 
 
 Before repairing to the dressing-room to adjust their locks and remove from their 
 shining broad-cloth any dust which might have accumulated there during their ride, they 
 stopped on the portico to salute some old school friends. After a short time thus spent 
 in friendly converse, they entered the parlors, which they found quite full. 
 
 The matrons and maidens of the Old Dominion were nobly represented by the fairer,: 
 portion of Mrs. Gardiner's guests. Every style of female beamy was to be seen there.. 
 from the cairn, fully matured woman, whose manners and mind had been formed by 
 years of intercourse with the world, to the blushing maiden just budding into woman- 
 hood—from the dark brunette, with raven hair and eyes of uigbt, to the fairest blonde, 
 whose golden ringlets shaded sapphire eyes ami brow of'alabaster. Among this shining 
 galaxy, our young heroes thought now, as they had done four years ago, at the Fourth 
 of July bull, that Hone could compare with Nellie Gardiner. Nor were they alone in. 
 
A CHICk'AHOMINY STORY. j<) 
 
 this oph ion; I f tfio most elegant men in t!io roor.: wpn? paying t\ !r hpmeg* 
 
 at tha some shjine; an 1 evon the most euviotts oi' li^r own.aex c-: I .• : fail to perceiv.i 
 and wow (■ impelled to acknowledge her charms. 
 
 Sh' was iadfi peerlessly boautii i to-night, with bcr fairy-like tiguro.drai * 
 
 in a cloud-like robe ••: embroidered while crape, a bertha uf i : d 
 
 up on her bosom with a pearl broast-ctustci of blush rose* in her n iia:r, an * 
 
 pa rl braoel ' ■■ melting into the whiteness of her I ind arm*. 
 
 Her large darl eyes, of a Ji ep violet color, and shaded by I r n ^- • ' rig lashes of t jo 
 Bane hue anil : - hair, wore at once so son n:.<! bri it every gh 
 
 thrilled the observer : .;'i a strange pleasure, and to-night they were fairly aglow • "v 
 joyous excitemcul icr small mouth and exquisitely roouldc i wreathe) 
 
 and dimpled with happy smiles. Young, woultlry, beautiful, ndn beloved, jusi 
 
 entering upon a a so much joy, why should i 'hippy? 
 
 Fcrcmost am admirers to-night, u is her cousin, n acqtinrol 
 
 ance, Bob Harri "Mr, Uobert Hurl 
 
 Time, which eft my c'.ange^ had press on Bob'Hatrt- 
 
 son ; though o ewbat improved, there was rx eh;iugr»f':r the bi 
 
 At \V.-! Point ho had assu iated with the most immoral and 1 set gf ca 
 
 Vbnncctcd with the ! had committed many rui :'?: 
 
 which, if ventilated rtaiuly have procured his exptlsic ibadeftiy.— 
 
 Indeed ho had barely ^esriaped being expelled more than onoo. I 
 examination, however, taking a very low figure, and escaping di s very < 
 
 of his teeth— j did alst', at a previous date, Pope, •] i id. 1 , Hooker • 
 
 sever;! 1 others of similar mental oalibro, who have lately ocoupicd 
 in tin- eyes of 1 his prol . , :.nd as bis family 
 
 was :1. (.here was no doubt about his «cttirp .. Convoui int p^s 
 
 in tl ivas a mostunpriucipled and worthless v.' Nellie hart 
 
 t son of her mother's only I ■ could nob 
 
 help I rd forbim. IStil I , jr-V - Wis liotinolini 
 
 Bubmil to his monopolizing her society en be seemed I to da, and sh> 
 
 coii'.'iv ti I ivors quite equally among her ntunen i »« i drora. 
 
 Lieutenant F< I into any matter that engaged I ittontiou wit!) b|:< 
 
 whole sotrf, contrived to obtain quite .1 liberal share it her wr M iy ;»:-,). 
 
 ; in . 
 time d hadqniti i tc-a-tote durii (■veiling, Thqy 
 
 weri bol pet 6d with the pi y had made. I witv 
 
 lilis^, returned to Beaver Dam just before dawn to dream of Elys 
 
 Thi lioer's was followed, within tht oexi 
 
 og me at Mr. Hari ison's i on the 1 . 
 
 at Mi I mates were visinn^: .. i iier':; 
 
 bou mgwl with company, among whom i ioJ, almost 
 
 daily, " r . Trie, they found time occasionally 
 
 »*, an>i riiii 
 Hiding \i Gardiner and her friends, ■ cr to Poplar 
 
 the i - 
 
 . as. 
 
 W . h id long tomed I 
 
 nl, had seen a rival in 
 in vi< Mary prospects, handso.me pel 
 
 I him quit one. lint blinded I . ■ 
 
 owi ■. the cold, calm • interior <,f I ( 
 
 Acr' • mid foi to Walter cv< ry opinion :o '. 
 
 ha-. ght his sympathy, I a 
 
 matt; 
 
gO . 'THE RIVALS: 
 
 Ar. for Nellie,. herself, it was impossible to discover, from h'ar manner* and conduct, 
 which one of her numerous admirers, if any, had received her heart's election , "for 
 though toe pure and dignified to condescend to coquetry, yet the kindness of her nature, 
 at d tha politeness of her Manners, led to such an equal distribution of her favors, that 
 eich one was left in doubtwhether he was* Sot the f.tVored one. 
 
 This being the condition of affairs, when Mrs. Gardiner, Nellie and Bernard. Bob Har- 
 
 t ; spa", and sc me others afoori'g their intimate friends, proposed, several weeks after fhe 
 
 ,<rty, to visit the Virginia Spring*, Charley determined to accompany them : and will? 
 
 Iiis usual generosity, invito! Walter to go with him. Knowing that his friend's whole 
 soul was enlisted iri his suit with Miss Gardiner, and determined to supplant him. if 
 possible, Walter accep'ed lie invitation and submitted to have his expenses paid by 
 I: is rival that he might bask in the smiles tf his mistress. 
 
 At the springs new triumphs awaited the Hanover belle, as Nellie was termed. Scores 
 of lovers were added to her train, and so closely wis she besieged by their attentions, 
 that it was onlj by the Utmost assiduity that her old friends could sometimes secure her 
 liaad for a dauce, or her cornjoany for a promenade. Yet. the rarity of this pleasure *0 
 enhanced its delight, that, the party found the time pass rapidlj and pleasantly, till the 
 chilly air of September made a longer stay among the mountains undesirable, augt 
 I istsned their departure for their homes. 
 
 in the whirl and excitement of the public life at the watering places, but little cp- 
 p rtunity had offered ;'>;■ private love-making, and the relations' sustained between our 
 young friends had then-fire remained in slain qiv, But a few days after their return, 
 Walter, who was then at, Poplar hedge, received a communication from the War De- 
 pnrUneot, summoning him to repair irpmediately to Washington to receive his comrais- 
 •fciuti anil Le a>ai»ueu to duty. As his absence would doubtless be a long one, and his 
 "J-cation probably very distant, he resolved to see Miss Gardiner before setting out on 
 lis journey, and confess his love and tender her the offer of his hand With this view, 
 -<:(j arrayed- himself in bis most .befitting costume, and mounting his horse, set ofi for 
 V'airftdd, Nellie's home. 
 
 When he arrived, the servant who met him at the door, replied to his inquiry whether 
 tiis young mistress was in, by Baying that she was at home, but not in the house. She 
 l>ad been walking in trie garden, and was now sitting in tne honey-suckle arbor. Thiuk- 
 i ig that this was a most suitable place for the purpose he had in view, Walte>- declined 
 entering the house, and resolved to join her there. The location of the honey-suckle 
 • r rb>r was Well knfwa to him, as he had often sat there with the ladies, it being a favor- 
 |te resort of the liardiners anid their guests. So, walking leisurely, with his usual 
 ■ Useless tread, he threaded the labyrinth of walks leading through a wilderness of shrub- 
 bery to his lady's- bower. 
 
 In the trepidation of^ii* spirits, he had forgotten to inquire whether she was alone, 
 i».nd on Bearing the arbor, was struck with surprise at seeing some one with her. But 
 i ; was net simply disappolutrnenVat finding the opportunity he had desired for his decla- 
 ration pestponed that rooted him breathless to the sp r -f. Nellie's companion was his 
 most dreaded rival. Charley Foster: and he saw. at a gianee, that the tones which were 
 trembling en his lips "were then being breathed into her willing ear bv a voice whose 
 vilchery he had reason to dread. And the hand which he' would have given worlds to call 
 I. is f>wn, was at that moment trembling in the warm clasp of his rival, who bending for- 
 ward,, with his eloquent eyes fixed on the maiden'a face, was paying, in a deep voice, trem- 
 UifiUf" with enutiou : 
 
 ' I know that it \a great presumption on my part. I am not and can never be worthy 
 of you, tut all that I am, and all that I have, the whole homage of my heart, the devo- 
 tion a*nd' service of my life, I lay at your feet ; Nellie, will you accept them ?' 
 
 The girl's red lips, slightly parted, were quivering nervously, and thelong^silken lashes 
 of her dewncast eyes swept her che?kf,"crimson with blushes; but calming her trepida- 
 
IP 
 
 «<-~siS«t?r 1*-' 
 
 
 _■- - . 
 
 fw I. 
 
 T .'.,'VjiWBw>- ; 
 
 1 '• ■ 
 
 
 
 
 
 "And, on Mating the si , •< .■• /. ,.,//, -.^ ... , ,. , / lfr ." 
 
A CIIICKAIIOMIXY STORY. 23 
 
 tion, she raised ber i.ir,re eyes, melting with tenderness, to her lover's fae?, and Raid in a 
 soft tone, scarcely audible: ' It is the most precious boon that earth could offer rue; I 
 accept it with pride and pleasure.' 
 
 An expression of ecstasy lighted up Charley's fare. 
 
 ' My own !' he exclaimed, iu his deep, tender voice, pressing the hand ho held passion- 
 ately to his lips ; ' mv own !' 
 
 ' Yes, forever,' murmured Nellie. 
 
 Young, and fair, and graceful, as they both were, they mado a beautiful tableau in that 
 attitude, with the golden autumn light pla\ing over them, and the flowering branches 
 of the honey-suckle twining around them. 
 
 A scene so exquisite as the one we have attempted to describe, would, if acted <in the 
 boards nf any theatre in Christendom, have elicited down thunders of applause from the 
 most, intelligent and discriminating attdience over assembled ; but no sound escaped the 
 single spectator, who stood traot fixed. With emotion*; such as Satan is supposed to 
 !iav(; felt, when lest and undone he gazed upon the le.iuiicsand the bliss of Eden, Walter 
 looked npon the tableau before him, then noiselessly retracing his steps, left the gardou, 
 with a heart as heavy as the one Adam bore with him from Paradise. 
 
 Arriving at the house, he entered the parlor, and taking up a book, pretended to read, 
 while be awaited (I. alley's aod Nellie's return. 
 
 In about half an hour theyoatne in, looking very bright and happy, and quite pleased 
 and surprised to see him there. 
 
 He met them with his usual calmness and self-possession,' and seemed quite as cordial 
 as ever. The keenest eye could not have discovered in his serene exterior any traco of 
 the volcanic fireof passions surging and flaming in i.is breast. Wildly as he loved Nellie 
 Gardiner, he felt towards her the keenest resentment, that she should have preferred 
 another to him ; md oh, how he hated Charley Foster. Yet, he drsguised it nil and sat 
 with them nearly an hour, discussing trTe most ordinary topics in the most commonplace 
 manner. When he arose to take his leave, he said to Xellie; 
 
 '1 have been summoned t i report io Washington to he assigned to duty, Miss Gar-. 
 
 diner, and expecting to I ave very short y, I called this afternoon I bid sou adieu I shall 
 
 probably not have an opportunity of visiting Virginia again very soon, and so shall not 
 
 have the pleasure i i m< eting you again in a long time ; but permit mo to offer you my 
 
 cvishet for your happiness in saying farewell. 1 
 
 'And you, too, Charley, will acc.pt fhe same,' he ndd*d turning to Charley, without 
 heeding the express priso'an "; regret they were both utti i 
 
 'Oh, no. not j Charley ; : return home with me and spend the night at Beaver 
 
 Dam, and stay with nie until y r Washington.' 
 
 'I shall leave uvn,' replied Walter. ' and so cannot accent your 
 
 invitation, though I thank, you for it.' * J 
 
 Chi ley followed hitu Otrt upon* the porch, and clinging to hi ,d • 
 
 m t give you up,' eld fellow . ■ 1 really do not know how toget alone without 
 >' on ; -' I »ou'd pack up and be off with you, Write soon and often 
 
 ;or 1 - al i ,-' yon sadly. ' 
 
 ' <»•' yr>u wil >!• a little while,' said Walter, 1 ghing t v as he snrauc 
 
 tops. . It. 
 
 * CHAPTfiU IV. 
 
 rrival in Washington, while he was busily rupa-ed in 
 receive the foil m etter I ,iley : 
 
 i Dkar oi.i) Cimm:- I hai up my couasitsioo. and write 
 
 ' ; ;i! l J nd endeavor I me, turough his influence, an 
 
24 THE RIVALS: 
 
 agreeable position in the army. I prefer active' service aod immediate duty. If such 
 » thing is possible, 1 would like also to be in the same company, or :vt least in tha same 
 regiment with yon. Do. please try and get it so arranged. I would spare you all this 
 trouble by going to Washington myself, if it were not that J sprained my ankle yesterday, 
 while fox hunting. 
 
 ' And now, knowing that you must be, surprised at this sudden derision, and curious 
 to know the cause of it, J will explain it all. You, from whom i never kept a secret 
 before, will be astonished to learn that ever since our return bum VV'esi Point — yea, as i 
 have lately discovered, ever since I have known her — I have loved Nel|ie Gardiner, and 
 that on the very evening of your farewell visit to Fail held. 1 told hei of my love. My 
 confession was very flatteringly received, and she consented to yield me her hand in mat- 
 riage, if J could gain her mother's consent to our union, in due season I waited on Mrs. 
 d-ardiner. and respectfully requested her consent to my forming an alliance with 
 her daughter. My petition was coUlK-'and haughtily received, and peremtorily refused. 
 1 respectfully requested to he made acquainted with the grounds of her opposition, when 
 she candidly admitted that to myself, personally, she had no objection, but that the dis- 
 parity in our rank was too great to make such a connection desirable— she won 1,1 never cop- 
 jsenl to have her daughtai, in whose veins mingled (he blood cf four Governors and one- 
 President, marry the son of a carpenter. > 
 
 ' You may imagine, Walter, if you can, what my feelings were. However. I main- 
 tained my composure; I did not tell her that 'her sex. protected her,' but 1 thought it. 
 I merely reminded her very politely, that the man who maintained toward our Saviour, 
 the relation of an earthly father, was a oaipenter. To this she vouchsafed no reply. 
 
 'At my. request, she consented that Nellie and I should have a parting interview, but 
 ehe assured me vgry positively that it must be the last. 1 
 
 'Nellie was much grieved at the reception her mother had given my suit, and indig- 
 nant that I should have been insulted by hejn£ treated as an inferior. Her mother, she 
 6aid, was by her father's will, her legal as well as natural guardian. *nd that during her 
 minority she would not offend her by marrying against her wish, but that in three vears 
 she would be twenty-one years of age, and unstress both uf herself and fortune, when 
 she would bestow them on your unworthy friend and humble servant Of course. 1' 
 thanked the dear girl with all my heart for Iter unmerited generosity. We agreed then 
 "to wait until ishe should have attained her majority : and, having the utmost faith, in 
 each other, we have no doubt of the final consummation of our wishes, 
 
 'This being the condition of affairs, you know that it would not he very convenient 
 •or proper for me to remain in this vicinity ; hence my sudden decision to enter the army. 
 Of course all that 1 have fold you is in the strictest qonfldence, for the compact between 
 Nellie and myself is a profound secret, though the affair of my addressing Miss Gardiner, 
 and being rejected by her mother, lias been for a week under discussion by the Grundy*, 
 through the agency of Bph Harrison, I believe. Nellie informed meat our Inst interview 
 that he was a lover of her's, and that his suit was greatly favored by her mother and 
 his father, 
 
 ' Be sure to attend promptly to my request, and let me know the result as soon as 
 possible. 
 
 'Very truly, yours, ( '. Ivsirii.' 
 
 To thl communication Charley received, at an early day, the following reply : 
 
 'Dear Charley: — Immediately on the receipt ofyour letter, I called upon the gen- 
 tleman you mentioned, and communicated your request to him. There was no diffi- 
 culty in getting you au. agreeable position, and in a few days you will be or/lered to re- 
 port for duty. You will not be able, however, as you seemed to desire, to enter upon 
 active service in the field, for it has been determined to place in the corps now organ- 
 izing for the expedition to Utaii only such officers, and, as far as practicable, men who 
 have seen service iu the fieM In order to do this, it is necessary to withdraw the gar- 
 
A CHICKAI10M1NY STORY. 
 
 2$ 
 
 risou from several of our fort?, ami substitute raw troops in their place, and amon^ 
 these latter you are assigned to duty. (.l.tptain Williams. who.n you already 
 
 know slightly, has b-en appointed commandant, at Port Alexander, m the North west • 
 sad before i n ■ *J your letter ] had been promoted And appointed First Lieutenant 
 under him. The ofchei lieu tenantries aeeVill untilled, and [Job Harmon, whg has inet 
 arrive.; in Washi -,-i m. desiignvd applying for the place of Second Lieutenant, but (Jol- 
 oni;l I'., had hen, l,..f«ire him and obtained it tor you, so P, ib had to be eon ten ted with 
 the junior rank, h ». ittle as we like him, it seems that we art to be associated with 
 him sgain. Hei seems to be some strange latanty at.work in the matter. 
 
 ' As tor the si I your letter. 1 was not so much fturprised as you seemed to 
 expect, I must I ■■■ ■ ■ een blind ma to have discovered the state of yon.r affections some 
 months sin 1 must eon fess that Mrs. Gardiner's cond' ;t d I astonish me no' 
 little, in view ■ trent partiality for you. am] the p|« seemed to take 
 in yo 'iid her refer Bernard to you frequently as a Worthy model, 
 and Hi, I an - Mi-- Gardiner. ' However. I suspect sho is influenced in this mat- 
 ter, n ii in many others, by her brother, Mr. foibert Harrison, senior. 
 
 He doubt lews th l would be » tiae thing for the hopeful Bob to step into such 
 
 a dowry as Miss I . , ,, with a reversionary right to one half of her mother's splen- 
 
 did fortune, j; ■ \p<-ets to make a useful and worthy member of society of this 
 
 same hapless f he will, in my opinion, he vastly mistaken. Bob. himself,! 
 
 am persuaded. I , of sue]) a thing; he seems, judging from lis West Point 
 
 career;.i rl liis - its in Washington, to be bent, only on • son Jul; his wild oats;' 
 
 ami 1 will pre: t linit he ->v<<\* a large*crop ' of them. . ie tire agricultural 
 
 parlance of Old • ■_ 
 
 ' 1 hear thai I wuc,h pleated since you and I rank him. and spoke of throwing 
 
 Up his commiss | lis frie::ds here told him frankly thai nothing better could lie 
 
 obtained ; r hi to sequence of hts.poor Stand ng at West Point, and persuaded 
 
 him, if ire ■ • arms his profession. ( > remain where he was. Now. we 
 
 know ven the choice <5i his 'profession, !'.>, ► not at all influenced by 
 
 bravery or a lo > y, for he is quite innocent in both. He would greatly prefer 
 
 remain ingpai h nothing to do except spend money; but, his fattier, who has 
 
 a good many i to provide (or, and is said to be heavily in debt, is determined to 
 
 quarter him on i on.' 
 
 'To-morrow • . : tn set off for Burt Alexander. Hoping to be joined by yon 
 there sui ii 1 i ver, Your frit 
 
 K W. Maynabd.' 
 
 A few wc««l m tie date of this correspondence, , nmd Walter Bnd Charley 
 dotn- . 'I'iie garrison there was not large, hut it was mainly 
 composed <d r.i ■-. »ud the lass of iimtrnctiitg fry duties, 
 armatici *>l ihein, wn% an arduous nm mmatidant 
 Off 'i incapable of peflbrming duty, almost the whole 
 '**•<>' ' fhe Pint and H «ond Lieutenants acquitted 
 tbema ponsible situations, hut the utter incapacity of tho 
 Third, or • in was glaringly apparent. Inde . Bob Harrison, so 
 far fn rked his dutic in sawy possi- 
 ble « , ncd to the performai r;n-, 
 tyrannical, ai I , that li< I illy provoked insubordination among the men,' 
 whii ' Authority and address of Ids super or officers to quell. Had' 
 tflese Dicei Lbeis than Lieutenants Maynard ai who knew him 
 Well, and had raei I ■ ring with ins i • would have been court- 
 martialed \ H month, liv.n their pat ibare 
 w»der the I i whicb it was subjected by their quandatu school-mate and 
 fellow-county i. 
 
It THE RIVALS: 
 
 The Fort was situated in a wild and picturesque country, abounding in game, and 
 affording many charming prospects; and when their military duties would permit, 
 Walter and Charley amused themselves by hunting among these vast 'wilds, or sketch- 
 ing such views as they considered very fine. They saw but little of Lieutenant Harri- 
 son, except on parade and at the mess-table, f<>r his leisure hours were mostly passed at 
 the public bouses of Luray. a thriving KttW village a few miles from Fort Alexander. 
 
 Being constantly with Walter, and having his mind and heat? always full of one 
 subject. Chailey spoke frequently of Nellie and of the relation botween them ; but to 
 Ids surprise he soon saw, in spite of his friend's self-command, that it was a most un- 
 pleasant theme, that it always left him impatient . gloomy and morose. Htowly the 
 truth dawned upon him; but when at last his mind had conceived a well-defined sus- 
 picion, he was soon enabled, by close observation and various experiments, to confirm it 
 beyond a doubt. The discovery gave him intense pain ; and he ceased to speak on a 
 theme, which being so unpleasant to his friend, was no longer a pleasant cue. to him, at 
 least in their intercourse. 
 
 Walter was very glad when Charley ceased to speak to him of his love and his hopes, 
 for reminding him, as it- did, of his own disappointment nnd mortification, it nearly 
 maddened him. He did not for a moment suspect the cause of 1 is silence on the sub- 
 ject ; he only knew that he had strenuously avoided the» topic, and he thought that hi& 
 j'riend had attributed his conduct to the indifference with which he professed to regard 
 such matters. Indeed, he seemed to have become quite a cynic — criticised the follies 
 Knd frailties of the fair sex unmerci fully, and ridiculed the idea of love as absurd and 
 preposterous ; while at the moment, disappointed passion was consuming his very 
 vitals; when crushed affections were sounding through his soul a wail of woe ever audi- 
 ble to him above the call of duty or the voire of pleasure; and when jealousy, with its 
 poisonous fangs, fastened deeply in his heart, was fast eating out all that was noble and 
 .;ood in his nature, rlis disposition was not naturally a good one, and his curly train- 
 ing had tended rather to aggravate* than improve it; but in his long e-nd intimate in- 
 tercourse with Charley Foster, be could not fail to imbibe same good from a character 
 so overflowing with all that was noble and generous, lie could not be misanthropical 
 with such a lovely specimen of manhood always before him, continually exciting his 
 admiration, commanding his respect, and challenging his emulation. The natural bias 
 t>f his mind to intrigue and chicanery, was temporarily overcome by the influence of a 
 character so eminently honest and ingenuous as young Foster's; and hie natural mo- 
 T'jscnrss was, in p great measure, dispelled by the broad beams of love and good-nature 
 which were constantly being radiated from Charley's warm heart and cheerful counte- 
 nance. At least, such was the influence which bis friend had exercised over him while 
 their friendship and mutual love was unimpaired — but alas, upon that friendship, so 
 warm and long, so sincere, jealousy . cruei as the grave, had m w intruded. Only the 
 noblest natures can forgive and continue to love a successful rival, and Walter's was far 
 from being a noble nature. Charley ^oon perccivud a great change in him, and noted 
 with pain that Maynard's manner's, always so cordial and unconstrained to him, were 
 beginning now to wear for him the same restrain)! and reserve that marked them with 
 Others; that the few fitful gleams of the olden kindness and confidence, were alter- 
 nately obscured by coldness, or by a peevish impatience very hard to bear with. Know- 
 ing and pitying the cause of the change, he endeavored to overcome Walter's ill-feeling 
 by increasing kindness and cordiality on his part: but when he found his efforts una- 
 vailing, and saw that they only increased the evil they were designed to remedy, he 
 became offended In turn, and desisted from them. Thus, without any formal disagree- 
 ment, the two were becoming gradually more and more alienated bom each i-iher". — 
 Charley, whose affections were very ardent, felt and regretted the estrangement acutely, 
 the more so as at the fort they were almost entirely cut 'off from any other society. 
 And what added to his chagrin greatly, was the circumstance that Walter, while volun- 
 tarily renouncing his friendship, was beginning to court that of Bob Harrison. 
 
A CHICKA.HOMTXY STORY. <>? 
 
 r 
 
 To explain Lieutenant Mayoerd's conduct, it is only necessary to Bay. that fir from 
 subduing his love for Nellie Gardiner, as he had at hV.l designed attempting to do, he 
 had permitted it to liold unbridled s way in his breast, and had suffered ')' to feed on fcho 
 wildest and most absurd hopes. He had secretly rejoiced at Charley's i'.l-succe s with 
 Mrs. (Gardiner, and resided the delay which her opposition had occasioned to the 
 lovers as a respite granted to him — a reprieve, suoh as the condemned olitniual hails 
 with jiy. With what satisfaction did he repeat the old and homely, but forcible adage, 
 'There's many a slip 'twist the cup and the lip;' and how ardently did he long for 
 that 'slip' which would dash the cup of happiness from Charley's lip, that, a;, ho 
 fondly hoped, he might press it to his own. Often had he racked his brain t ir some 
 scheme by which he might effect his desire; but noun offered of sufli ient pi .nihility 
 I0> sanction an attempt. He weekly saw, with growing rage *r.d jealousy, a tender mis- 
 sive, in tho form of a delicately scented atid exquisitely directed letterr placed iu Lieu- 
 tenant Foster's hand; and he frequently speculate,: upon the expedient v of tampering 
 with this charming correspondence; but he was not quite base euough for such vil- 
 lainy, and so the- temptation was resisted. In the meantime, though despising Hob 
 Harrison heartily, he commenced Cultivating his good will, with a view to making hini 
 useful in the fnti 
 
 CHAlTfcB V. 
 
 Tne liu-n bs-rof ihegarr, ■ at Fori Alexnnder, who, nest to Bob Harrison, ■• ; ■ moat 
 trouble to the officers, and created most disturbance* among his comrade*, wat i , irate, 
 avouug foreigner, in whose features, accen l and character, the distinguishing trait* of tho 
 Preach and Italian were strangely mioglod. He was very young, exceedingly active and 
 handsome, with s fine musical car »ud a superb voice, which was often called into rcquir 
 sition to enliven the garrison. In his character were blended the sparkling vivacity of 
 the French and the • nature of the Italian, and while the former qa il'ty 
 
 made him ratlr with both men and officers, the latter often led biua tafco 
 
 scrapes with the former, which sotm times brought down upon him the r.hasth- n til it 
 was the dot) of 'i, inflict. The offensive and tyrannical manners of Lieut, 
 
 Harris*»n often t revoked him to insubordination, and he was frequently in trouble from 
 Which Lieut. b\uti*r. whose ,'-v> 1 mture often got the hettcr of his strict notions ■•.' mili- 
 tary duty. h*n frequently been able, by intercession with hissuperioi . t biro. 
 Toward his ■ w *id lieutenant, therefore, Le Brun, for that was the man's name, entertained 
 . ,; tndc and effect ion, while the ihird lieutenant was hated with all 
 'the itj'rnsity of his nature, though he dare not indulge in an open cxpreasi ui ol his 
 sentiments. Lieut. Mayoard, too, for no particular ret mi except the I uightl « of 
 and 'in.' si 11 led by long 
 - on. 
 At length, al -. Le Brun, who* 
 had been comparatively - guilty of . v duty, which 
 subjected 
 the powe* of thi 
 
 by his frequent u tho 
 
 ilprit, II i ■ 
 
 • 
 know;) I cut. 
 
 i room wheic be was sitting aloi II mere 
 
 u ' I im. Ivxpresaing his 
 
 wonted circumstance, and iking such chaofHst in his toilet as he tho: ght the 
 
 bade the mill usher them in. 
 
28 THE RIVALS: 
 
 In a few moments the servant returned with the visitors. They were both dressed in 
 biack, and closely veiled; but the gait and the outlines of ' the figure of one of them 
 showed her to be an elderly woman ; while the easy carriage, elastic step and pliant 
 grace of the elegantly rounded figure of the other, bespoke lor her youth and beauty, 
 even without a glance at ihe features so closely concealed by the envious veif. 
 
 When he had s?eu his visitors seated, Charley addressed some commonplace remark, 
 the first that offered itself, about, the. weather or the season, to the elder lady. 
 
 ' She speaks! no English,' said the young lady, in a peculiarly rich, soft v.."-iee, and 
 with a strong but interesting foreign accent, at the sirne time lifting her veil ami dis- 
 closing a strikingly beautiful face, lighted up by a pair of the most magnificent black 
 eyes om young friend had ever seen. 
 
 'But you do. J am pleased to observe, Mademoiselle, said Lieut. Foster, with a bow 
 and smile. 
 
 ' Yes,' she replied, 'I speak your language with tolerable ease nud correctness, but not 
 as fluently as l speak the. French and Italian tongues; and if Monsieur prefers, I will 
 state my petition in either of rhose languages — for we are come as petitioners.' 
 
 Charley hastened to assure her that, from the specimen ho had heard of it. her Eng- 
 lish would much better bear experimenting with than his French' and that he was so 
 unfortunate as to have no knowledge of the Italian. #IJe also expressed an interest in 
 learning what had procured him the honor of an interview wbk Mademoiselle, aud 
 assured her that it would give him great pleasure to serve her. 
 
 • We are relatives of Victor Le Bruo, the private in your company, wh ) has rist been 
 sentenced to snifter a cruel and ignominious punishment,' sftid the girl, 'and having 
 often beard him speak of your clemency and kindness, we have conic. Monsieur, to beg 
 that you will exert your influence in procuring a commutation of his sentence.' 
 
 This was said in a vmiee so plaintive, and at the sajne time she fixed her fine eyes on 
 his face with a look so melancholy and so, wistful, that Charley felt his compassion 
 gteatly excited. . • 
 
 After a little pause. Li sat, Foster told her, in the genitlest forms, and with the mildest 
 manner he oould, that lie feared, his intercession would be of no avail, as Le ISriiu had 
 so often abused the clemency shown him, that the ollicers were now persuaded tha* 
 nothing but the strictest measures would meet his case. 
 
 ' I know that, he is wayward and intractable,' she replied, ' but he l:a- some good left 
 in him still, which, if properly cultivated, may yet make him a useful man. I know 
 him well enough to feel s -sured that harshness, so far from subduing, will only exaspergtte 
 him and make him desperate. If he suffers his sentence, Monsieur, it will he the ruin 
 of him. lie will desert, and leading a wandering, vagabond life, will bo fore* - lost t> 
 me. Listen,'" sin said, growing excited and enforcing her language with a nunaberpf 
 graceful and impassioned gestures, ' and 1 will tell a little story which must excite your 
 compassion : 
 
 'My father was a Frenchman and nn artist, and early in life left hi* native city of 
 Paris to study art among the works of the great masters in Rome. There he married 
 my mother, and there they lived very happily during the first ten years of my life; My 
 father's paint.ii:. < began to be much admired, ami his studio was frequently visited by 
 strangers sojonri ing in Home. At length, an American gentleman, a merchant of New 
 York, persuaded nkn to remove to that city, promising him a lucrative patronage there. 
 We removed to.America, and by the kind efforts of our patrou, my f.i'her at once re- 
 ceived a large number of orders for paintings, which being satisfactorily executed, le.! 
 to his bei»g established among the artists of New York. Still, ins gains were small , 
 though larger than iu Italy ; for art is not very lucrative, Monsieur, either in Italy or 
 America ; iu the former country the people have nothing to pay, and in the latter they 
 have but little appreciation for its beauties; so when he died, two years ago, he left us 
 almost peuniless. My mother had died shortly after our arrival iu America, and our 
 kind benefactor was also dead ; but his daughter aided me by procuring me a uumber 
 
A CIIICKAHOMINY STORY. 29 
 
 of pupils to whom T gave lessons in music, painting, Italian and French. This lady, my 
 father's .sister.' pointing to her companion, ' managed our little household, and we would 
 have been very comfortable and happy but for one tiling. Victor had always possessed 
 a wayward disposition, and an ungovernable te-r.per, and by association with the wild, 
 bad youths of the city, contracted many vicious habits, which grieved us greatly. And, 
 at length. Monsieur, about a year after my father's death, he was sent to the Mouse of 
 Correction lor a term of twelve months. At the en i of that time he was released, aud 
 the very day alter his arrival in New York, meeting with a recruiting officer, he enlisted 
 in the United States army. As soon as we learned his destination, my aunt and myself 
 sold our little effects in New York and removed to Luray, to be near him, that we might 
 have him as much as possible under our influence. Hois fond of a military life, only 
 he Gnds the discipline rather strict, and here he seems happier and better than I ever 
 knew him. He has a passionate odmiration for you, Monsieur, and if you will only save 
 him frotn this cruel degradation, you will be able to command him ever afterward. 
 But if he suffers this punishment he will be lost forever. (), save him.' she cried, ' be 
 is my only btother, all that is left me in this world to love and care for. Save him, for 
 the lore of the Holy Virgin — pardon me, Monsieur. I forgot that yon are a protestant — 
 but pardon him. fir the sake of the Almighty God, upon whose name we all call, and 
 from whose mercy we all hope for pardon.' 
 
 At this crisis, the elder woman, perceiving from the manner and accent of her niece, 
 that the case was an extreme one, fell to weeping, and falling on her knees before Lieut. 
 Foster, besought him in doleful accents to pardonntr and sanv.c,- son pdMtSTt n-n-eu, ce 
 garcon i tlheuren : qui etait oiphelin, tt </iti n' avaitpas d'antis. 
 
 Charley raised her up ; and begging her to be seated, promised ti do his utmost to 
 obtain a pardon for Lc Brim, or at least a commutation of his sentence. 
 
 By exerting himself to the utmost, and with great difficulty, our young friend was 
 able to make* good his promise to Le Brim's relatives, and relieve, the anxiety and distress 
 of his interesting sister. At his request she had given him her address, that he might 
 be able to report to her from day to day the progress he was making in his suit, and 
 several times he found it convenient to call on her in Luray, and report in person. She 
 and her sunt were occupying two rooms in a .small cottage, in the suburbs of the vil- 
 lage, and though their lodgings were but poorly furnished, yet the genius and tastes of 
 Maderrn iselle Le Brun had been able to impart to them an air of refinement and oven 
 elegance. The aunt had found employment in doing fine needle work for the wealthier 
 villagers, and Mademoiselle was giving music lessons and painting miniatures f>r * live- 
 lihood. Charley desired that she would paint two miniatures of himself, one for his 
 mother at.d the other for Nellie, thinking, by paying her liberally, to assist so noble a 
 girl in her Struggle wi»h the world. Although she had hitherto refused to paint gen- 
 tlemen, yet she consented to accommodate him, in view of his kindness to her brother, 
 and as soon a< Victor's case was satisfactorily disposed of the sittings commenced. 
 
 Mademoiselle was an accomplished artist, and while she sat to her work with her 
 white lingers glancing in the sunlight as she rapidly and gracefully' plied, the brush, and 
 her fine eves, alternately veiled by her long, dark lashes, or raised to his face with all 
 their midnight splendor beaming full upon him in a scrutinizing gaz,e, she talked to 
 Charley, in her soft Italian accent and her pretty French vivacity, of Italy and Koine — 
 of the i , ind balmy air of the one. and the magnificent ruins of the other. 
 
 She had spent days with her father in the galicrios of the Vatican, gazing with rapture 
 on the sublime works of old masters gathered there, and hours with him sitting amid tho 
 ruins of the Coliseum, or wandering by the Tibw; talking of the mighty past and sighing 
 over the sad present of the ' (,»ucen of the World ' — the ' Niobe of Nations.' possessed 
 of a fine memory and rare dc.seriptivo powers, her sketches of the scenes of her childhood 
 wire e\tr<;mcly interesting to our enthusiastic young Virginian. 
 
 As, in the course of her brilliant conversation, without pedantry and- always with rare 
 adaptation, he heard her alternately quote Virgil, Tasso, Uacinc and Shakspcare, each 
 
30 THE RIVALS : 
 
 in the oiigin^l, and B»w her at will, lay down the pencil to take up the lyre, Lieutenant 
 Foster thought that he had never seen a woman so brilliant and accomplished ; and he 
 marvelled at the strange Providence which had made this noble gifted creature (he 
 sister of Victor ! e Brim, and placed her, poor and friendless, among the comparatively 
 half civilised population of Luray, out in the backwoods. 
 
 Cut off from ..11 other female society, he found that of Mademoiselle Lc Brun 
 doubly charming; and had his nature been" less stable and faithful, and his love 
 for Nellie Gardiner less firmly interwoven with his childhood's happy memo- 
 ries, wc fear that the little Virginia maiden, though beautiful and noble-hearted, 
 with her slight knowledge of the world, and her slender stock of boarding-school 
 accomplishments; would have been supplanted by the interesting Italian. As 
 it was, his heart remained faithful, though lie admired Mademoiselle greatly. 
 And by the time the miniatures were completeel and dispatched to their elesti- 
 nation, with a glowing description of the fair artist, he had prevailed on her to 
 give him regular drawing lessons, and to permit him to exercise his rusty French 
 by almost daily readings or conversations with her. Although in her gratitude 
 ,<he wished the.*e favors to be rendered gratuitously, yet young Foster insisted 
 on paying most liberally for her lessons, and besides, sent many presents of 
 books and magazines to Mademoiselle's study-tabje, and of game to the cuisine 
 of her aunt. 
 
 At length his frequent visits to the cottage of Luray beg:m to he noticed, and 
 were made the: subject of remark at the mess table. Some of the officers, among 
 others, Lieutenant Maynard, who had passed Miss Le Brun on the streets of 
 Luray occasionally, but had not been able to judge of her beauty, as she always 
 wore- a veil abroad, professed to feel quite a curiosity to see a lady so charming 
 as the fair Italian seamed to be, and requesteel Lieutenant Foster 4,0 introduce 
 them at the cottage. 
 
 Now, often when he had felt the spell of her fascinations strongest upon him, 
 Charley had wished that Walter could see Mademoiselle, and had speculated* 
 whether if he could meet with her, her brilliant beauty and charming conversa- 
 tion might not be able to make him forget his unfortunate love for Nellie Gar- 
 diner. He felt confident that such would be the result of an acquaintance, and 
 he had been several times on the point of inviting Lieutenant Maynard to accom- 
 panv liini to the cottage, but the growing coldness between them had hitherto 
 proven led his doing so. Now, however, that Walter had himself proposed it, 
 he oagerJy accepted the proposal, and named an early day for the visit. • 
 
 On the other hand, Walter's quick eye had already observeel and had watched 
 with delight Charley's growing intimacy with the Italian girl. Falsely pre- 
 suming his gayety and good nature to betoken a shallow and fickle disposition, 
 he hud no doubt "that Miss Le Brun, if»but the half he had heard of her were 
 true, would supplant Miss Gardiner in his rivals affections. Anxious to see how 
 far he had been correctly informed as "to that young lady's charms, and how 
 far Lieutenant Foster hael been influenced by them, he resolved on a visit with 
 him to the cottage . 
 
 Desiring to have Mademoiselle impress Walter favorably^ Charley, as soon as 
 ho bad introduced him, led her to talk on those subjects about which he had 
 observed her tn be most enthusiastic, called for those songs which. she sung best, 
 
 id prevailed on her to exhibit her drawings to his friend. Pleased with the 
 entionsand conversations of two gentlemen so polite and intelligent, the lady 
 _M even more affable and interesting than usual, and astonished Lieutenant 
 Maynard by the grace of her manners and the brilliancy of her conversation. 
 Delighted to find her so fascinating, he immediately judged from the impression 
 her charms had made on him diiring one short interview—cold and calculating 
 
 
A OHICKAIIOMINY STORY. 21 
 
 as he knew his nature to be — that they must, during an intercourse of several 
 months, have completely captivated the imagination and enthralled the heart 
 of his ardent and susceptible friend. This conviction so pleased him, and Made- 
 moiselle's conversation anil music were so enlivening, that he became more ani- 
 mated and cheerful, more like the Walter xMaynard o! West Point, than Charley 
 had seen him for a long time. Attributing this happy, change in bis friend en- 
 tirely to pleasure in Miss Le Brim's society, Lieutenant Poster mentally con- 
 gratulated himself on the success of his scheme, and thought, as bo watched tin- 
 animated play of their handsome features, and listened to the pleasant tones oi 
 ir cheerful voices, what a fine couple they would make. 
 
 Thus mutually deceived, after a visit of several hours, the two friends left the 
 cottage, pleased with each other, Mademoiselle, and all the world. 
 
 But Walter's complacency was a littl. disturbed when on calling at ihe cot- 
 tage a few days after, partly with the desire of hearing Mademoiselle converat . 
 and partly with the expectation of finding Charley there, he discovered the f;tii 
 artist standing before her easel and giving the finishing touches to an exquisite 
 painting representing the hoseT-suekle arbor at Fairfield, with Charley and 
 Nellie seated in it, almost in the same position they had occupied on the evening 
 of his last visit there. 
 
 At the sight of it he started and turned pale ; but Mademoiselle, whb stood 
 with her back to him, and who, in the intense interest of her occupation had 
 mistaken him for Lieutenant Foster, did not observe this." Without turning, 
 while she lightly and skillfully retouched some of the vine tendrils stra 
 around the figures, she asked, in a low, soft voice : 
 
 •Does it please you, Lieutenant? 1 did not intend that ybu should see il 
 again until it shouid be quite finished, but you have taken me l>; surprise; ) 
 did not expect yon until to-morrow; However, you can tell whether the lady 
 is right, at last. I have deepened the M.ish on the cheek, and lengthened the 
 eye-laches, as you suggested, but these daguerreotypes are such poor thin 
 oopy from, that I doubt whether I have succeeded. The arbor was a simple 
 afiair, and easily copied from your sketch, and yonr portrait, rny aunt thinks, 
 is excellent — but is the lady right? ' she repeated, turning towards him. 
 
 * It could not be better,' replied Walter, bowing gracefully, as hi r eye fell on 
 him. ' Permit me to congratulate you, Mademoiselle, on your p 
 
 and to say that I have seldom seen a more beautiful picture.' 
 
 Mademoiselle started slightly at his address, and it was evident the sur] 
 of hi- appearance was not altogether a very pleasant one. But shon turned bits 
 greeting very politely, and replied to his observation by saying -lie <\ ,< rvedno 
 for the picture, except for such manual skill as had been displayed in 
 copying from the more perfect works of nature, which had made ' dh Lieuten- 
 ant Poster and his companion very fair. 
 
 ' This is a little secret between your friend and i. 
 the picture. 'He entreated me to let no one but aiy aunt sco it while 1 w.i> 
 painting it, and I had obeyed his request until you surpr 
 
 ' Do not let that trouble you,' said Walter. ' li will make n., d t all 
 
 with Lieutenant Poster. I am w i II known to the la n old friend of 1 
 
 and ifave long bee.. ited with the relatii i tin 
 
 'They are i » <■ 1 1 ■ » i li<- I : ' she said, interrogatively. :i\nr_ h : .mriiJKr 
 
 on hi countenance.. 
 
 He replied in the aflirmati 
 
 1 And she is very beautiful,' she repeated, m the .-ame manner. 
 
 • As beautiful as yen have represented her. Mad' sine* 
 
32 THE RIVALS: 
 
 the look of life and the changing expression of the original, cannot be*transferred 
 to canvass by any degree of art.' 
 
 CHAPTER VI • 
 
 Walter's report of Miss Le Brun, after his first visit, liad so influenced the 
 curiosity of Bob Harrison, that lie had resolved to make her acquaintance, if 
 possible, and so he bad requested Lieutenant Foster to introduce hiin. This 
 Charley refused to do, because he knew that his acquaintance was not desired 
 by the lady, and because he judged froi* the knowledge he had of Lieut. Harri- 
 son's character and habits, that he was -qui fie capable of insulting unprotected 
 virtue, especially if it wore a form so enticing as that of the fair Italian. 
 
 This refusal had greatly exasperated Lieut. Harrison, and lie hail tried hard 
 to make it the occasion of a quairel between himself and Lieut. Foster. But 
 Charley had resolutely persisted in preserving his usual good humor, until one 
 day, several weeks after, he received a letter from^Ncllie in which she spoke of 
 his intimacy with Mademoiselle L;0 Brun. ' Do not think me unreasonably 
 jealous,' she wrote, 'but I hear so much of,her beauty and accomplishments, 
 and of your devotion to her, that T cannot help feeling uneasy. lean readily 
 imagine that in your isolated condition, any female society must be agreeable, 
 but I can scarcely think that mere admiration and friendship could suggest all 
 the attentions you are said to bestow upon this pretty foreigner. I have not a 
 very high opinion of my own personal charms, and f can readily believe that 
 her's far exceed them; and though my heart is faithful to its first love, and I 
 can but hope that yours is also, yet if it should be otherwise — if you should 
 ever think your boyhood's love a delusion, and should ever find one whose mind 
 and heart more fully meet the wants of 3 r our manhood'.- nature than she to 
 whom your earliest vows were plighted, remember, that moment you are free.' 
 
 True in every thought, word and deed to Nellie, and having no memory of 
 the past, no hope for the future, unconnected with her. it wounded Charley 
 deeply to have her entertain the slightest doubt of his fidelity, And all the in- 
 dignation he was capable of feeling was excited against the meddling mischief- 
 maker, whose slanderous misrepresentations 'were insidiously undermining Nel- 
 lie's happiness and his own. He knew this person to be no other than Bob 
 Hairison, and his long-suffering patience with that unworthy individual gave 
 way completely under this new wrong. He resolved to Call him to account for 
 it, and to make him understand plainly that henceforth there must be an alter- 
 ation fti his conduct. Tn this frame of mind he was summoned to dinner. 
 
 There were dining with the mess that day several visitors, a military friend 
 of Capt. Williams, and a legal and medical gentleman from Luray, and they 
 were having 'a time of it.' The wine was circulating pretty freely, and Bob 
 Harrison, about 'half seas over,' was even more noisy and disgusting than 
 usual. Most of the company were gentlemen, and the toasts drank were such as 
 might have been expected of such. But Harrison, possessed by his evil genius, 
 with unparalleled audacity, proposed a toast to Mademoiselle Le Brun in lan- 
 guage so coarse and obscene as to form the grossest insult that could be offered 
 to the name of any lady, at the same time winking at Charley most significantly. 
 
 'Retract that instantly, and apologize to me, as the lady s friend, for having 
 taken such a liberty with her name, or I will run my sword through you,' said 
 Lieut. Foster, springing up and confronting Harrison. 
 
A CHICKAHOMINY STORY. 33 
 
 With the eyes of the company upon him, and the stimulant of th«c wine within 
 him, Harrison refused to retract* 
 
 1 Then liar, poltroon, slanderer, and meddler, take that,' said Charley slapping 
 him in the face. 
 
 Lieut. Harrison was furious. He would take an insult from no living man. 
 Foster should answer for it with his life. If he recognized the ' code of honor,' 
 he would not deny him the satisfaction due a gentleman. 
 
 Lieut. Foster replied that he was ready and willing to accommodate him in 
 any manner. He could be found at his quarters at all times. 
 
 The challenge was sent, ami accepted hy Foster, and time, place and weapons 
 agreed upon. 
 
 Bob. Harrison chose the Doctor from Luray, a boon companion of his, for his 
 second, and Charley selected Walter Maynard. The seconds -\vezo to meet the 
 next morning for the arrangement of some preliminaries. 
 
 At an early hour the next day, business for the garrison called Licvit. Foster 
 away from the fort, and he did not return until the middle of the •afterneon. 
 On his return, he did not go to his own, quarters, but entered Lieut. ? Taynard's, 
 with a view to learning the result of the interview between him- and Dr. Smith.' 
 But finding Walter asleep, or apparently asleep, he did not disturb him ;• and 
 intending to call in again in a few hours, he laid off his sword and pistol on a 
 table under the open window, and set off for Luray to scttlo some; little biits he 
 owed there, in preparation for the approaching duel. 
 
 But Walter was not asleep, though he wa^i trying to quiet hifj conscience by 
 the temporary oblivion of sleep. He knew that Bob Harrison's wrath had sub- 
 sided, and that the simplest interference on his part would induce the p*or cow- 
 ardly fellow to apologize to Lieut. Foster, and on the other baud, that Charley. 
 who had never remained angry twenty-four hours in his life, would b« satisfied 
 with an apology from Harrison, and with the fright he had given him. The laws, 
 of honor forbade that a proposition for an amicable adjustment should emanate 
 immediately from the principals, but such a suggestion might he made with pro- 
 priety by the seconds; and Dr. Smith had delicately hinted, during the inter- 
 view of the morning, that such an adjustment was possible; but Walter had 
 pretended not to understand his drift, and hud gone on with the arrangements 
 for the meeting. This dud was the very thing he most desired. If Charley 
 should be killed, he thought there would be no obstacle to his suit with Miss 
 Gardiner; and if, on the other hand, Lieut. Harrison should fall by the baud of 
 his cousin's betrothed, he thought that Nellie w. mid never marry one whom 
 she must regard as the murderer of her relative; while, if neither should fall, 
 the circumstance of their having met in mortal comb.it Would so incense Nellie's 
 family against her lover, that he believed the opposition fco their union would 
 be greater than she would dare incur. 
 
 In the meantime, the affair of the contemplated duel had spread tlirough tho 
 garrison, ami had excited a great deal of interest among the men. Lieut. Har- 
 rison was universally detested by them, while Lieut. Foster was almosl idolized, 
 and there was but one wish expressed as to the issue. ■ But, 1 said' one of a group 
 of men gathered in front of the barracks discussing the affair at tho time when 
 Lieut. Maynard was trying to forget it in his sleep, 'aupposc Lieut. Harrison 
 should kill Lieut. Poster, what a shame and what a pity it would be.' They.all 
 agreed that for such a noble man to fall by the hands of such a scoundrel, would 
 bo a lamentable affair. ' He,! alluding to Lieut. Harris, n. •'-. ra)- 
 
 now,^ said one of the men, 'to get drunk, and come bad here cursing an! 
 striking with bis -word the first man who comes jn his way. like he 
 5 
 
34 ' THE RIVALS I 
 
 It would be a fine thing if he should fall in the river on his way back, and get 
 drowned before he has a chance at the life of Lieut. Foster. 
 
 Victor Le Brun, who, in spite of his many faults and, follies, still entertained 
 an ardent affection and a profound respect for his noble sister, and who, there- 
 fore, must have been strongly interested in the 'duel between his officers, was 
 standing near during this conversation, but he spoke not a word on the subject. 
 Indeed, it had been observed, lhat since he had been informed of the difficulty 
 between Lieutenants Foster and Harrison, and its occasion, he had been silent 
 and moody. But there was a fierce look in his cold black eyes, and at this 
 remark of his comrade, a dangerous fire flashed* from them in a keen look of 
 sudden intelligence, exultation and determination. However, he said nothing, 
 except to mutter an oath, as he fell into line with a squad of men which th«.-* 
 corporal was forming to go -and relieve guard. In addition to the line of senti- 
 nels maintained around the outside of the fort, there was also an inner line kept 
 up around the officers' quarters for the purpose of keeping order among the 
 men; and Le Brim's post for the next hour was near Lieut. Maynard's window, 
 through which he could see all over the apartment. 
 
 For some time after Charley had left th% room, Walter had tossed about rest- 
 lessly upon his hard, narrow camp bed, vainly «ourting ' nature's sweet restorer,' 
 which is romantically supposed to come readily only at the wooing of the inno- 
 cent. At length he fell into a dreamy, dozying state, half sleeping, half waking, 
 which was disturbed by many unpleasant dreams of falling over a precipice, &c, 
 and of having a gun aimed at his head; and starting up, he could have almost 
 sworn that on opening his eyes he had seen a liand grasping a pistol vanish 
 through the window. Shaking off the lethargy which oppressed him, and ap- 
 proaching the window, he looked out ; but there was no one near except private 
 Le Brun, who was leisurely walking his post, and who, of course, would not 
 have permitted any one to approach the window. Finding his waking thoughts 
 but little more pleasant than his dreams, he took up a book and tried to read : 
 and becoming interested in its contents, he read until sunset, his usual hour for 
 a walk. 
 
 Conducting from Fort Alexander to Luray, and performing in its curvings a 
 semi-circle about five miles in extent, was a fine military road ; and branching 
 off from this road, at a distance of a quarter of a mile from the fort, was a nar- 
 row foot-path, leading through ravines and over precipices impassable except to 
 pedestrians, by a much nearer route to the Village. Passing out of the fort, 
 Walter proceeded along this road for a mile or more ; then retracing "his steps 
 to where the foot-path came into the road, he seated himself on a fragment of 
 ro«k in the shadow of a large boulder on the side of the path next to the fort, 
 and awaited the return of Lieut. Foster, who, he had learned, from a message 
 left with his servant, was gone to Luray. It was almost dark when he saw a 
 . man approaching from the direction of the village, and presuming it to be Char- 
 ley, he arose, and was about to accost him, when perceiving him, the man sprang 
 into the bushes and ran off in the direction of the road leading to Luray. Sup- 
 posing him to be one of the men from the garrison who had eluded the sentinels 
 and gone down to the village without leave of absence, and who, of course, was 
 anxious to avoid detection, the circumstance did not, at the time., impress him 
 *s at all singular or suspicious, 
 
 I When he had waited twenty or thirty minutes longer, he was joined by Char- 
 ley, Who asked him how long it had been since Lieut. Harrison passed, and 
 whether they had had any conversation about the meeting of the next morning. 
 
 Walter replied that he had seen nothing of Lieut. Harrison since dinner, and 
 that he had supposed him to be in his quarters at the fort. 
 
A CHICKAHOMINY STORY. 35 
 
 'That is strange,' replied Charley; ' 1 met Dr. Smith about half a mile outside 
 of the village, just now, and he told me lie had just parted with him in the path 
 leading to the fort. And not wishing to have the pleasure of his company on 
 the way back, I detained tho Doctor in conversation sometime, purposely that 
 he might have a long start of me. Ho, could not have been very far ahead, fori 
 heard the report of his pistol while 1 was talking with Smith, who wondered 
 what Harrison could find in the woods to shoot at that hour of the evening — 
 certainly he has not shot himself.' 
 
 'Not very probable,' said Lieut. Maynard. 'He has doubtless reached the 
 fort by another route, that which leads along the river bank, for instance.' 
 
 ' Dr. Smith tells me,' observed Charley, after a short silence, 'that you and 
 he have fixed upon to-morrow afternoon, at sunset, for the meeting between 
 Lieut. Harrison and myself, and that pistols have been selected as the weapons. 
 This suits me very well ; I have a new pair which I haye never used, and I will 
 give them to you in the morning that you may test them.' 
 
 That night Lieui. Foster occupied himself in writing letters to his parents and 
 Nellie, to be delivered to them by Walter in the event of his falling in the ap- 
 preaching duel. His anger against his adversary had nearly cooled, though he 
 still felt that he had been sorely wronged by him; and he thought that a regard 
 for the honor and fair fame of a Lady so worthy, so unfortunate, and so unpro- 
 tected as Mademoiselle Le Brun, was a sufficient excuse for his course toward 
 Bob Harrison; still, he did not feel very comfortable in the thought of being 
 slain by such a contemptible antagonist. Nor did he like the thought of imbru- 
 ing his hands in the blood 0f a fellow-man; and before seeking his couch, for 
 the last time, perhaps, he magnanimously r.esolved to discharge his pistol in the 
 air. In his lej^er to Nellie, he gave her a detailed account of his whole acquaint- 
 ance with Miss Le Brun, and, as he thought, entirely exculpated himself from 
 the charge of inconstancy. HcjiIso explained, as fully as was practicable, the 
 origin and progress between him and her cousin, and acquainted her with his 
 determination not to take his life in the coming encounter. 
 
 Up to a late hour the next day, Lieut. Harrison had not made his appearance 
 at the fort, but Charley and Walter thought that he must have passed the for- 
 mer in the woods on the evening before, and gone back to Luray to spend the 
 night with his friend, Dr. Smith, until that gentleman arrived in search of him. 
 The circumstance of his non-appearance was certainly a very singular one, and 
 very embarrassing to his second, on whom the task of producing him in time for 
 the meeting of the afternoon devolved. 
 
 In the meantime, Li.-nt. Foster, his second, and the surgeon of the garrison, 
 at the appointed hour, repaired to the duelling ground, a large wood about two 
 miles from the fort, in an opposite direction from Luray. 
 
 When they had been there nearly an hour, Dr. Smith arrived without Lieut. 
 Harrison, and warm, weary and perplexed with his fruitless search for him 
 He had sent out scouta in all directions, h< said, and had himself searched all of 
 Harrison 'e haunts in Lnray, but without le to discover any trace of 
 
 him. Nobody s1 the fort or in the village had seen anything of him since he 
 parted with him on bis way to l'ori Alexander on the preceding evening; and 
 he was inclined* \o think thisamost mysterious and alarming circu 
 Walter and Charley, whb thought the} i w Boh Harrison pn wel 
 
 theufrht it not iiupnsMhh' that he ha.i • tho.l m avoid the dangesiBs 
 
 encounter with Lieut. Foster, and the I -»t n\ amused atilie Doc- 
 
 tor's uneasiness, hut of co 1 -■• they did a* 
 
 
$Q THE RIVALS: 
 
 On their return to the fort at dark, they found that Captain Williams fully 
 shared the anxiety and apprehensions of Dr. Smith, and seemed disposed* to 
 attach considerable importance to the circumstance of the latter's having heard 
 tine report of a pistol soon after parting with his friend. He thought it quite possible 
 that Lieut. Harrison might have been killed by the accident;* discharge of his own pis- 
 tol, and not. altogether improbable. At all events, he had determine! to organize* party 
 uu the next day to search the wpods aud ravines between Luray and the fort, aud ascer- 
 tain to his satisfaction if there had been foul play. 
 
 Accordingly, at an early hour the next morning, Capt. Williams' party set out from 
 the fort in search of traces of Lieut. Harrison, while at the sjime time another party, 
 headed by Dr. Smith, started from Luray upon the same errand- Neither party bad 
 made any discovery of anything the least suspicious until the latter reached the small 
 r-.ver over which the i^ath to Luray led, at a distance of lees than a mile from the vil- 
 lage, and about one and a half from the fort. Cver this river, which was at that point 
 afout twenty yards wide, was a narrow foot- bridge, spanning it from cliff to clilT, at a 
 considerable height above the bosom of the stream , and near the end of this bridge, on 
 tbc fide next to Fort Alexander, some small dark spots, very much resembling blood, 
 were observed. The removal of some loose earth, which appeared to have been recently 
 sprinkled in that vicinity, disclosed another similar spot larger than a man's hand r and 
 h part of the hand-rthling on one side of the bridge had been recently broken, as if by 
 the fall* of a heavy br-dy against it. A horrible suspicion seized upon the minds of 
 Lieut. Harrison's friends that he had been waylaid and foully murdered here, and his 
 body thrown into the strea'm Indeed, the spot tf&s most favorable to such a purpose, 
 being remote, wild and gloorfiy ; and the concurrence of circumstances leading to such a 
 conclusion was truly very strange. 
 
 They wefe not, however, left Ion* in conjecture; for, on flragging the river. just below 
 r.lie bridge on the side next the broken railing, the body of the missing man whs recov- 
 ered from the water. An examination discovered the fact that he had been shot 
 through the heart, and the circumstance of his pistol being found^oaded in every 
 barrel, buckled up in the rases or .sheaths attached to the belt arctotd his waist, proved, 
 as well as the nature of the wound itself, that he could not hive shot himself, either by 
 itcoident or design But who was the murderer of Lieut. Harrison ? 
 
 While the men who discovered the body were drawing it to lire shore, another party, 
 v.'ho had a small boat just above them, discovered, lodged in a fa ft of ferns and lichens 
 growinjr on a small point of rock which projected from the bed of ^he river, a pistol, 
 tic barrel of which had been discharged, and the ball of which exactly corresponded 
 to the orifice of the wound. 
 
 • A further examination of this weapon discovered the initials of Lieut. Foster engraved 
 in small German characters upon the silver plate on the handle, and there was no diffi- 
 culty in proving it to be the weapon of Charley Foster. 
 
 The body of Lieut. Harrison was carried to Luray, and a jury summoned to hold. an 
 inquest over it. After a careful examination of all the facts presented, the jury rendered 
 a verdict ' that Lieut. Harrison had come to his death by the hand of some person not 
 clearly prove*, hut supposed, from strong circumstantial evidence, to be Lieut. Foster.' 
 Lieut. Foster was accordingly arrested aud committed to prison to await his trial, whic'h, 
 fis the term for the sitting of the court in Luray was very near, would come off in a few. 
 weeks 
 
 The surprise universally created by this circumstance was only equalled by the regret 
 it OCCftMi ;.ci.i, ■ Impossible ! ' was the unanimous verdict — ' impossible that Bieut. F09- 
 < t, po frank, so brave, so generous and humane should have committed an act so un- 
 manly, cruel and cowardly'.' Yet the factof his having had a- quarrel with the deceased, 
 nud of ' 'a having been seen to take the same route, only a short distance behind him, on 
 the vny eveniiig of the .murder, connected with the discovery .and identification ot the 
 p*atol, ::me(3 a terrible chain of circumstantial evidence against the accused. 
 
A CFIICKAHOMINY STORY. 37 
 
 As to the fiif .'■ ving pursued the same path that Lieut. Harrison was mur- 
 
 dered on, only a short distance behind him, Lieut. Foster was prepared tn prove by 
 Dr. Smith, the ifftifhate friend of the murdered mm, that he remained with him iu 
 conversation Ion.: enough for Lieut. Harrison to have reached the fort, and that white 
 they were bonvcrsing, they heard the report of a pistol in his direction, and spoke ol 
 the cirruhuitftnee at tn« time. Moreover, !)r. Smith would testify that if his friend Sad 
 been shot on the bridge betwacn the time when Lieut. Foster had left him and thai 
 at whir!) lie joined Lieut Maynard, ha must, have hoard the report of the pistol Ort hi* 
 way to Luray, wheteis, he heard nothing of the kind. From this evidence, therefore, it 
 would appear that the fatal shot was fired while Foster was talking with the doctor, at 
 the distance of a quarter of a mile from the bridge. 
 
 But the affair of the pistol was not so easily cleared up. and no one was moresurpr 
 than Lieut. Foster at th« circumstance. He had left his sword an 1 pistols in Lieut. 
 Maynnrd's room before -setting off for Luray. and had not seen them since, having or- 
 dered his servant toe next morning to get and put them away ; and he believed both to 
 be in his table drawer when the one found in the river was shown him. The servant, 
 on being quest: that he had only found one of the pistols on Lieut. Mayunrd's 
 
 table, and had s that his master had the other. Lieut. Foster could not prove 
 
 that ho had left there, for Maynard, though not asleep, as his friend had BUppoaed, 
 
 did not reaily kno'-^H'nat the pistols had been left on his table, although he remembered 
 seei!,;: the sweii] (here. And tho half-wakiug dream of seeing a hand grasping a pistol 
 retreating through the window was so unreal, that he could nut, for the life of him, tell 
 whether it bad beer, a dream or reality, therefore, he said nothing about it. But ho re- 
 membered very distinctly having seer, a man proceeding from tho direction where Lieut. 
 Harrison's body was found on the evening of the murder ; and being a rigid disciplina- 
 rian, he had, on returning to the fort, instituted inquiries, and found all the men present 
 except Le Brun, who was absent without leave, lie did not speak to anyone ol 
 circumstance. 1 tin- Italian narrowly. 
 
 In the meantime. Captain Williams had telegraphed to Lieut Harrison's father 
 news of his .'..,n's death, and he had come on to the fort and removed the remains to 
 Virginia for Intetment. 
 
 -Ciiar^y bad ale 'j'^bed to his father, who proceeded to Luray immediately, em- 
 ployed the best counsel to ne had, an J by giving heavy bail, procured his son's releaari 
 from prison. 
 
 When the day ) :r the trial arrived, the Court House at Luray was crowded to it* 
 Utmost capacity ; .. . among the sea of anxious faces which met the gaze the ralm«- t 
 was* undoubtedly, that? of the accused. Assured by his'counscl that the evidence ae, ■ 
 him would be mere cob-web in his hands, and above all. sustained by the consciouaneas 
 of his perfect innocence, he entertained no fears for the result of the trial; though l,e 
 deeply regretted the death of Lieutenant Harrison, and the unfortunate chain of circ 
 Maims which had Boplj sated him in that sad affair. 
 
 W i ile'the com 1 ,-- c the accused was the most serene in all that vast cro.. 
 
 two faces whii i redjhe least serenity and betrayed the strongest internal cod- 
 
 lhct, were those of Lieut. Maynard and private Le Limn ; the. latter of whom had been 
 the real author of the murder, which he committed partly from motives of private re- 
 venge, and pal cut the possibility of injury to Lieut, Foster in tho projecte 1 
 duel. The firmer was ^ctiiberately withBolding testimony which would certainly 
 the best friend be I ad ever Iiad from tho dark cjiarges brought against him. an. I the 
 want of which • id to his conviction. It ie, however, but ju.itice to say, 
 Maynard did»n< I > permit Foster to be bung, if his testimony would p 
 lie thought i - ;i my would be suflicient to clear him ; and if it sh 
 not, he iu tended I i i _...-e Le Lruu, stating, concisely, all the facts— of his h 
 him standing for an . i ;r opposite, the window where Lieut. Fostei's pistols dad been 
 left ; the imprest. „:. b« Lai during that time v( baviug seen a hand granpiug a pistol 
 
38 THE RIVALS : 
 
 withdrawn quiekly from the window ; the circumstance of his seeing a man approach- 
 ing from the direction of the bridge who avoided him ; and the further circumstance of 
 Le Brun's having been at that particular time absent from the fort without leave, to- 
 gether with the suspicious manner in which the Italian had deported himself since the 
 murder. He howevever thought, as we have remarked, that Dr. Smith's evidence would 
 be sufficient to clear Lieutenant Foster before a legal tribunal ; but he preferred that 
 enough suspicion should attach itself to the character of the accused to prejudice him in 
 the eyes of Miss Gardiner, her family, and the world. He therefore remained silent, 
 meanwhile closely watching Le Brun. 
 
 On the other hand, Le Brun was in an agony of anxiety between regard for his own 
 safety and that of his esteemed officer, whom he loved with all the ardor of his passion- 
 ate nature. The report of Lieut. Harrison's insult to his sister, and of the manner in 
 which Lieut. Foster had resented it, had filled his soul with gratitude towards the lat- 
 ter and revenge towards the former; and the conversation between his comrades, which 
 we have repeated, had suggested to him the means of gratifying his revenge and at the 
 same time showing his gratitude. Finding himself, a few moments later, opposite 
 Lieut. Mayuard'a window, where a pair of pistols, which he supposed to belong to that 
 gentleman, were lying, and seeing that Walter was asleep, he had, as he thought, un- 
 observed, stolen one of them, and secreted it upon his person. He knew that Lieut. 
 Harrison was absent in Luray, and he thought that Lieut Foster had not. returned from 
 his expedition of the morning ; so, as soon as he was relieved from his post he stole out 
 from the fort, eluding the sentinels as he'frequently did, and took the path in the direc- 
 tion of Luray. Secreting himself in the bushes on the liver bank, he shot Lieut. Har- 
 rison as-he was coming over the bridge. He then rolled the body off the bwdge, and 
 threw the pistol, as he thought, into the water. Then hurriedly sprinkling some lonsa 
 earth over the few spots of blued on the bridge, he hastily retraced !ri-« Steps towards 
 the fort. 
 
 The unlooked for turn wr.ioh affairs had taken had greatly surprised and perplexed 
 him. He had resolved, rather than see Lieut. Foster suffer for his crime, to confess his 
 guilt. Hence it was that he hung with such breathless anxiety upon the lawyers' words 
 as they argued the case. 
 
 The counsel for the defence dwelt strongly upon the excell^it character of l he accusal, 
 his honor, frankness, generosity and humanity, the mildnesT uf his temper, and the 
 ■kindness of his disposition, which had made him proverbial throughout the j;irrison and 
 the village, and quoted the uumerous instances, well known to many, in which he had 
 patiently and good-naturedly overlooked the rudeness of the deceased. He also endeav- 
 ored to show the absence of sufficient motive for the 1 commission of such a Heed. Having 
 proven Lieut. Fuster to be brav? and hoiJorable 3 was it not much mor-i probable that'll** 
 would have availed himself of the opportunity presented him in the contemplated duel 
 of honorably and bravely obtaining satisfaction from Lieut. Harrison, than to have 
 basely waylaid and murdered him? If the latter had refused to grant him satisfaction, 
 the circumstance of his asss tilting him privately would not seem so strange ; but as all 
 of the arrangements for their meeting had been completed, he regarded such a thing id 
 the highest degree improbable. Br.t the strongest point in the defence was the evidence 
 of Dr. Smith. When the weapon which killed Lieut. Harrison was discharged. Lieut. 
 Foster was talking with that gentleman, and had remained with him some time after- 
 wards. .When they had parted, Dr. Smith hao" consulted his watch to sen whether he 
 would be iu time for an appointment he had in the village that evening ; and when 
 Lieut. Foster had joined Lieut. Maynard at the other end of the wood, the latter, grow- 
 ing impatient, was just consulting his watch, holding it up in the moonlight ; and the 
 intervening period between the lime reported by these gentlemen on the witness-stand, 
 Was barely sufficient for a rapid walk over the -space between them. If. therefore, 
 Lieut. Foster, during that walk, had shot Lieut. Harrison on the bridge. Dr. Smith, 
 from his c'ose proximity, must have heard the report of the pfttol, whereas he emphat- 
 
A CHICKAH0MIN1' STORY. 3# 
 
 liiail.7 declared that he had heard nothing of the kind. Ah fof the circumstance of 
 Lieut. Foster's pistol having been used, he thought that might be easily explained. Ac- 
 cording to the testimony oi' Lieut. Maynard and of Mike Mahony, the servaut of Lieut. 
 Foster, the arms of the latter had remained for some hours under an open window, be- 
 >ore which the men were frequently passing ; and as, by Lieutenant Maynard's testi- 
 mony, ho had been asleep duriug this time, nothiug was more probable than that this" 
 pistol had been stolen. Lieut. Harrison, it was weil known, was extremely unpopular 
 with his men, and it was very natural to suppose that some of them had taken rtiis 
 method, the only one open to them, of settling an 'old grudge.' 
 
 At this point, Lieu*. Maynard looked towards Le Brun, and saw that his face was 
 livid with terror and guilt. 
 
 ' Or,' said the counsel, ' why not suppose that Lieut Maynard had shot Lieut. Harrison 
 with his friend's pistol ? He had the opportunity of doing so ; for when the fatal shot 
 was fired he was in the wood, as he himself admitted, and alone. On the contrary, 
 Lieut. Foster was at that time with Dr. Smith.' 
 
 At this suggestion Walter wiuced slightly, in spite of himself, and glancing up ner- 
 vously, caught the eye of Le Brun fixed upon him in malignant joy. He returned the 
 look with one which caused the Italian, cowed and subdued, to turn his face in another 
 direction. 
 
 Having addressed himself in a clear, strong argument to the minds of the jury, the 
 counsel next appealed most eloquently to their hearts. He spoke in a most touching 
 manner of his client's youth, talents, fiee character and fair promise ; of the hopes of 
 Jus aged parents centred in this only son, and of his country's claims upon bis 6trong 
 »rm and clear head to uphold her rights and defend her honor when occasion required, 
 and asked if this bright ^promise, all these fond hopes and reasonable expectations, 
 should be sacrificed to a mere suspicion. Mauy eyes ' unused to weep ' grew moist un 
 der the path*. tic appeal of the eloquent speaker. After listening attentively to the coun- 
 cil on the other side, the jury retired, and, after a short absence, returned with their 
 verdict. A breathless silence pervaded the assembly. Le Brun, in breathless eager- 
 ness, hung forward, and Walter felt his heart stand still within him. 
 
 'Prisoner.' said the clerk, ' stand up! look upon the foreman. Gentlemen of tbs 
 fury — what say you, is he guilty of the offence with which he stands charged, or not ? ' 
 
 • Not guilty,' said the foreman, in a loud, emphatic tone. The words bad barely 
 escaped his lipd when a deafening shout of joy arose from the large number of spectators 
 present. 
 
 Le Brun deserted the fort' that night, and this circumstance at once caused him to bo 
 fiuspected of Lieut. Harrison's murder, though he was never arrested and brought to 
 trial. 
 
 Before his trial. Charley had written at great length to Nellie ; but he received no 
 reply until after bis acquittal. She war, nearly heart-broken that he should be charged 
 wUh murder. Believing him to be innocent, she had resolved, if he should be condemned 
 fcWeath, that she would go to him and give her band to him in marriage, regardless of 
 the objections of her mother,' that she might thus have the privilege of soothing hie 
 fast hours. But although she and Bernard refused to believe him guilty of the crime 
 charged to him, her mother and uncle could not be persuaded of his innocence, and 
 were accordingly violently incensed against him. Mrs. Gardiner was almost frantic at 
 the idea of her daughter's maintaining a matrimonial engagement with her cousin's 
 murderer, and commanded her, on the penalty of incurring her everlasting displeasure, 
 to break the engagement at once. She represented that not only Nellie, but her whole 
 family would be forever disgraced by her marriage with a person whose character was 
 under such an imputation, and Bbe taunted her with breaking her heart over a man who 
 had been willing to risk hu* life for another woman. Such is tho weakness of humaa 
 :iature, that this last argument did not fail to tell upon her resolution. If she had seen 
 him condemned to suffer innocerjftU: an ignominious death, and to be cut off in the prime 
 
-40 THE RIVALS : 
 
 of life from all its hopes and joys, she would have linked hor fate with his, in spite of 
 every 'agency which might have opposed, so strong was her womanly love and sympa- 
 thy. But when she knew that he was safe from the danger which had threatened- him, 
 she suffered her mother's counsel and influence to prevail. The letter in which she in- 
 formed him of her decision was kind, though very chaste and rather cool. She assured 
 him that she believed him to be as inuocent as herself of her cousin's murder, but that 
 circumstances of recent occurrence had so increased her mother's opppositiou to their 
 unioD,thal she dared not incur it further. In conclusion, she wished him much happi- 
 ness and success in life, and hinted at Miss Le Brun's ability to heal any wound she 
 might inflict. . . 
 
 This letter greatly shocked and grieved Charles Foster. For some mqments after 
 reading it he sat like one stunned, then holding it in the flame of the lamp besiae him 
 until it was quite consumed, he said to Walter, who was with him : ' Tt is all over be- 
 tween Nellie and myself now ; the coast is clear for you Walter, or for anyone else, I 
 suppose.' 
 
 This aunoHnce'ment, which Walter had so longed to hear, filled him with a wicked 
 joy ; but when weeks went by aftid he observed the cruel change which it had wrought 
 in his noble and once joyous and bright-hearted friend, he could not help feeling some- 
 times the keenest pangs of remorse. 
 
 It was a great relief to him, therefote, when Lieut. Foster, finding Fort Alexander, 
 with its sad associations, a most unpleasant abode, obtaiued a transfer to a fort on the 
 Texas frontier. 
 
 Before leaving, Charley called on Mademoiselle Le Brim, for the first time since Lieut. 
 Harrison's death, to hid her good-bye. He found her much distressed at her brother's 
 disappearance, and learning that she desired to obtain a situation in a school in some 
 Southern city, advised her to go to Richmond, and offered to escort her and her aunt to 
 that place. The offer was accepted, and the three set out immediately for Virginia. 
 Arriving- in Richmond, Lieut. Foster was not long in obtaining a very lucrative situa- 
 tion in one of the most fashionable schools in the city, 
 
 About six months after the departure of ywung Foster from the fort, Lieut. Maynard 
 obtained a furlough for the purpose of visiting Virginia. While in that State much of 
 his time was spent at Mrs. Gardiner's, in. Nellie's society, and one evening he availei 
 himself of the opportunity and made that young lady an offer of marriage, which was 
 declined very politely, but so positively as to leave him no ray of hope. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. ' 
 
 The harvests of Arretium 
 
 This year old men shall reap ; 
 This year young boys in Uinbro 
 
 Shall plunge fhe struggling sheep. 
 And in the vats of Luna, 
 
 This year the must shall foam 
 Hound the white feet of laughing girls, 
 
 Whose sires have marched to Rome. 
 
 ,Two years, fruitful, as are even the smallest cycles of time, in changes both to na- 
 tions and individuals, had passed since the events recorded in the. last chapter, and their 
 flight brings us to a period destined ever to be remembered as among the most memorable 
 in American history. As Vesuvius, before casting out upon Herculaneum and Pompeii, 
 the vast mass of seething matter which for years had been burniDg and fusing within its 
 
m 
 
 mm"' 
 
 " Thtn holding it iit the f.aw of At i«>-p," dc. 
 
A CHICKAHOAILVY STORY. 43 
 
 subterranean tires, had given frequent warnings of the great catastrophe by premonitory 
 rumblings and quakings, so the great structure of the American government had fre- 
 quently been rocked to its centre by the antagonistic forces combined without it, before 
 the smothered fires of sectional animosity, party bitterness and fanatical hate, burst 
 forth in all their fury, blasting and blighting a land which nature had made so fair. 
 Upon the ears of many the mutterings of the coming storm had fallen almost unheeded, 
 until the lightning-flashes from the port-holes of Sumter, and the thunder of the canuon 
 there announced that the tempest of war had burst full upon us. Rut now the tocsiu 
 sounded throughout the South, calling upon the patriots of '61 to arise aud drive back 
 the hordes of ruthless and barbaric hirelings, who threatened to overflow the country 
 with one vast lava tide of desolation and destruction ; and nobly did They respond. 
 The very earth seemed to shake beneath the tramp of gathering hosts — 
 
 "The horsftnon and the footmen 
 
 Are pouring in amain 
 From many a stately market place, 
 
 From many a fruitful plain : 
 From many a lonely hamlet, 
 
 Which, hid by beech and pine, 
 f.ike an engle't nest, hangs on a crest 
 
 Of purple Afipeniue." 
 
 Aral while ail over tl ■ Soutl . the hudbaodtnan was leaving las fields, the niechanic 
 bis bhop. the merchant his counting ro->tn. the lawyer i - office, and often even the cler- 
 gyman thesecred desk, tl hnCkieon the warrior's ar:n rv where were the two young 
 disciples of Man*, whose adventure* we have recorded in the pit iiaptere? 
 
 Immediately un the eiet-tiou of Abraham Lincoln :«> the Presidency of the United 
 States. Lient. lister had resigned his commission j a; d on astl I rate Gov- 
 
 ernment had been rainy urgnu Bed at Montgomery, he /.<•' tan services to thai 
 
 government. They mere accepted, tad be had been early appointed to active duty, 
 with the rank of Major. 
 
 As long as t.iia 1 nited States Government had beer* administered by statesmen , ac- 
 cording to the Coualttntiuii framed by our Revolutionary Fathers, with an equal regard 
 for the right-, and interests >>i all sections of the country. Lieut. Foster, like the whole 
 people of his native State, had rendered to it the most thorough and^inequivocal loyalt\ 
 of his soul. But when he beheld the sceptre, in consequence of a long course of political 
 chicanery and corruption, grasped by a set of fanatval demayoftues, who declared that 
 noble Constitution 1 coveuant with death and an agreement with hell/ and who were 
 pledged to use the whole power and resources of the country to rob and oppress a large 
 and important pari of it, he immediately renounced -■ and de- 
 
 generated a power, and grasped his sword with .i uetei-.ru nation lo la 
 when deatit slid- his grasp, or when he sJ South fully 
 
 vindicated, her wrongs avenged, and her indepei ' eru 
 
 tyranny and usurpation 
 
 Gold, calculating a ical, ^ieut. Maynard wa incapable »( 1 1 senti- 
 
 ment so generous and unst ;!i.-h us patriotism, And possessing no | Virginia, 
 
 ar.d entertainine. but little regard for his relations there, he had.sh p ..II hope 
 
 of marrying Nellie liardic-r. ceased to feel ar.y particulai interest . '• aQnirs of his 
 mother Stat". He was. as he had said to his I, rotifer officers. 1 nne, with 
 
 nothing to lose and everything to gain, and would follow any flag 
 wealth and fame. He was, also, as a matter of course, unable to realize what heavy 
 sacrifices noble and generous natures. were capable of making in the 
 and equally unable to conjecture what powerful results such sacrifices were capai 
 effecting; consequently he. saw for (he comparatively feeble South, only failure and ruin 
 in the faar fill contest upon which she was entcii-u:. While for tho North, gloryingio its 
 
44 THE RIVALS: ' . 
 
 superior numbers, multiplied resources, and its regular army and navy, he predicted the 
 most rapid and brilliant success ; and, in imagination, pictured himself rising rapidly iu 
 rank in the victorious army, to a high, perhaps the chief command. 
 
 These visions were rather rudely shaken by the collision of the 'Grand Army ' with 
 the ' Rebels ' on the fatal plains of Manassas, July 21st, ISC1. As he tried, in vain; to 
 rally the shattered remains of his regiment, which had lost both its Colonel and Lieuteu- 
 ant-Colonel in the bloody conflict, and found himself borne along irresistibly with the 
 struggling, terrified mass of citizens and soldiers who fled fur their lives from the field 
 of expected triumph and real disaster, Major Maynard grew frantic with mortification 
 and rage. Standing erect in his stirrups, he cursed the Hying host, and endeavored 
 foolishly to arrest their course by cutting among them with his swOrd; but a teamster, 
 who had thrown out his load of ' notions ' designed for the trip to Richmond, to take back 
 a load of defeated and discomfited Zouaves to Washington, rushed unceremoniously 
 past, striking the haunches of the major's horse so Violently as to cause him to throw 
 his rider directly into'the.struggling mass of men and animals. Before he could recover 
 himself, several of the fugitives had run over him, and.be came near being caught in the 
 •wheel of a caisson. His saddle had scarcely been emptied when a Dutchman and an 
 Irishman seized his horse, and mounting it, one behind the other, were proceeding 
 through the crowd with a speed which did gr«at credit to their horsemanship, nnd 
 effectually crushed Major Maynard's hopes of a rescue. Lamed and bruised by his 
 fail; hatless, hungry and weary, he limped back through all that fearful rout to "Wash- 
 ington, 'a wiser, if not a better man.' 
 
 Major Foster's regiment was also on the field at Manassas, but being on the extreme 
 right of the Confederate army, was not engaged during the day. 
 
 On his way to Manassas, he paid a hurried visit to ins parents, and had found his 
 father in very feeble health. The shock of arms at Manassas had scarcely died away, 
 when Major Foster was summoned to bis father's death-bed. • 
 
 During this last visit home he had twice seen Nellie Gardiner at church, but not a 
 •word had passed between them. Though the bright, rosy hue had, in a measure, faded 
 from her cheeks, yet "Nellie Gardiner was still beautiful and queenly. Once only, while 
 in church, their eyes had met, and in that second each read in the countenance of the 
 other that the past was not forgotten — the lire had not burned out — the slightest breath 
 would fan the smouldering embers into a flame. 
 
 Bernard Gardiner was a gallant officer in Stuart's Cavalry, and -had been in the dash- 
 ing charge made by Radford on the retreating Yankees at Manassas. He had escaped 
 unhurt then, and through several skirmishes subsequent to the battle; but within a few 
 weeks after, was seized with the typhoid fever, which was then so prevalent and fatal in 
 our army. He appeared to be very ill at first, and being unable to perform duty, a fur- 
 lough had been granted him to go home and remain until he should recover. On his 
 way to Richmond he grew suddenly worse, and when he arrived wa*. perfectly delirious. 
 Among a number of sick soldiers, and with no friend or acquaintance, he was sent oif to 
 a hospital, and had been there more than a week before his family knew of, his illuess. 
 Then, having learned through a letter from his captain that he had gone to Richmond 
 sick, they niade inquiries and found that he had been sent to the Hospital of St. Francis 
 de Sales. And most fortunate it was" for him that he bad been sent there; for, but for 
 the bind and skillful nursing he received at the hands of the Sisters of Charity, he would 
 Lave died before his friends could have reached him. When Mrs. Gardiner and Nellie, 
 apprised of' his whereabouts, arrived at the hospital, they found him so extremely ill as 
 to render his recovery doubtful. For weeks his mother and sister watched beside him, 
 assisted by the kind sister whom they had found at his bed-side. Under their tender 
 nursing, the invalid began slowly to rally, and finally gave promise of returning health. 
 
A CHIGKAHOMINY STORY. 45 
 
 It was, however, several weeks before he could be removed from the hospital. During 
 all this time Nellie was with him ; and was often led to admire the patience and devo- 
 tion'of the noble women around her, engaged in their laudable and noble work. Espe- 
 cially did her heart warm with gratitude and admimtion to the one who had been Ber- 
 nard's nurse in bis illness. This lady — Sister Theresa, as she was called by the sisterhood — 
 was. indeed, a most lovely and interesting woman. In spite of her coarse and unbecom- 
 ing attire, and although her form was languid and thin from her arduous labors as a 
 nurse, and her eye dim and her check pale with her constant vigils, yet she was beautiful. 
 The gentleness of her touch and the softness of her voice, united to her beauty and grace, 
 made her a great, favorite with the invalids, and her ministrations were eagsrly sought 
 after. Nellie frequently remonstrated with her for overtasking her strength, and begged 
 her to be more careful of her health. To such remonstrances she would invariably 
 respond — * 
 
 'Ah! lady, it matters not bow soon I may he spent in my Master's service. All whom 
 I loved, or, at least, all who loved me have passed away from this earth ; and I, too, am 
 done with the pleasures as well as the cares of life; only Us duties are left to me. And 
 I love to minister to the wants and relievo the distress of these sufficing patriots*. My 
 brother was a soldier, and the best friend I cver.h ad is an officer in the Southern army ; 
 perhaps I may yet be permitted to save the lives of one or both of them.' 
 
 Af length the young man became string enough to be carried -home, and bidding fare- 
 well to the good sister, lost sight of her for awhile. 
 
 Several weeks after Bernard had been taken to Fairfield, Nellie visited Richmond, tak- 
 ing with her some wine, milk, «&c, for the patients at the Hospital of St. Francis do 
 Sales, and borne fruit and flowers for Sister Theresa. On her arrival at the hospital, she 
 was informed by the attendant sisters that Sister Theresa had not been there for more 
 than a week, but was lying very ill at the Asylum.- Feeling, as wc have aaid,% strong 
 interest in Bernard's gentle nurse, she resolved to call on her there. Through the influ- 
 ence of Sister Agnes, whonvshe had frequently seen at the hospital, Xoilie was admitted 
 to the apartment of Sister Theresa, whom she found alarmingly ill. She was lying on a 
 small, narrow bed, in a lethargic slumber, her cheeks and lips scarlet with fever, and her 
 beautiful features pinohed and haggard from the ravages of disease. Learning that no 
 hopps were entertained of her recovery, that she had expressed a desire to see Uer before 
 losmg consciousness and bad frequently spoken of her in her delirium, Ncliie bugged 
 to be allowed to remain at the Asylum and assist in nursing her. Il'r request, was 
 granted, and having dismissed the carriage, she returned to Sister Theresa's room and 
 took her post by the bed-side of the sufferer, thus relieving the weary sister who had 
 been watching over her. 
 
 Being left alone with the sleeping sufferer, her attention was naturally attracted to 
 the pictun led against the wall. She had understood that Sist v Theresa was an- 
 
 adept in the art of painting, and supposed those which adorned her apartment wero 
 from her own pencil. The one on which her qvca fell first, was a picture of the ' Last 
 Supper,' w;th*the Disciples gathered around their Master, Judas [scatiut dipping the sop, 
 and John leaning on Jesus' bosom. It was really a fine painting, being an interesting 
 subject a 
 that the 
 •expression 
 The likeneu 
 
 the mystery grew deeper when, on approaching the picture which hung more in the 
 shade, she discovered it to be a Madonna which, had the face been copied from her own, 
 could not ha\0: her more strongly. Amazed and mystified, she knew not how 
 
 to explain the at range coincidence. On a little table, by the window, wis a handsome 
 portfolio of sketches and engravings, and written 00 the inside of this pqrtfuli '. in a. 
 handwriting which boo immedl 51 ized as M er's. she read: 'Midemoi- 
 
 scllo Theresa Lu.B.-un, Luray, July, 18—.' 
 
46 THE RIVALS : 
 
 The dying woman , Sister Theresa, was then no-other than the beautiful and accomplished 
 M'lle Le Brun, whose rivalry of herself had been represented as so formidable and so. suc- 
 cessful. From what she had seen of her charms, oven in the plain, homely dress of her 
 order, she knew that they had been very powerful ; but reason told her that they had. 
 never succeeded in wiuning Charley Foster's heart one moment from its allegiance — else 
 why had he failed to use the opportunity her rejection had offered for his espousing the 
 Italian girl? and'why had the latter entered upon a eonventieal life, if there was any 
 hope for her of a destiny in the world so happy as to be the wife of Major Foster? That 
 she lived him, there 'could be no.doubt, Nellie thought : else why should she, who had 
 professed to renounce every earthly hope and affection, have given his features to the 
 Apostle that she might have them always before her. Sister Theresa's conversation and. 
 manners too, so melancholy aud sad. had impressed her on their first acquaintance. ivitH 
 the belief that she had been disappointed in love. Out of #bis suspicion her imagina- 
 tion had woven quite a little romance before her visit to the Asylum ; and now the whole 
 story was revealed to her. But how had the sister become acquainted with her face as 
 pictured in the Madonna? She knew that this elaborate painting could not have been 
 executed since they met at Bernard's bed-side, for since that period, up to her illness, 
 Sister Theresa had .been constantly engaged in her noble work of nursing the sick and 
 wounded Confederate soldiers. She was driven then to the conclusion that Charley had 
 employed the fair artist to copy her daguerreotype; and her mental soliloquy was, ' 0, 
 how I have wronged him in doubting his fidelity ! At the very time when I was taught 
 to believe that he was forgetting me in the society of this accomplished wo'nan, he was 
 employing her talents to perpetuate my unworthy image. I deserve to suffer for ever 
 having suspected one so noble and so true ; and suffer I must while I live. 'When this 
 poor girl found her love to be hopeless, she could retire Within the sanctuary of her 
 church, "and hide her wounded "heart under the robe of a recluse ; but my church offers 
 no such asylum ; and I am condemned to mingle with the gay, thoughtless daughters of 
 mirth, and adopt their manners and simulate tbeir joys, 'when my heart is breaking.' 
 Overcome by her emotion, she sat down by the bed-sido of Sister Theresa and wept 
 bitterly. 
 
 That night Nellie was watching alone with the suffering sister, having prevailed on 
 Sister Agnes, whose turn it was to watch, to bring her bed and lie down on the floor, 
 when Sister Theresa roused from her deep slumber and asked for water. Nellie gave her 
 water, and when she had taken that, she presented a cup of wine whey to her li^s, and. 
 observed, with pleasure, that she drank it eagerly. After drinking this she seamed much 
 revived, and shortly thereafter was quite conscious, and- inquired the hour. Nellie con- 
 sulted her watch, and replied that it was midnight. The sick woman recognized her 
 voice, and, grasping her hand, thanked her for visiting her, and inquired how long she 
 had been with her. 
 
 * I am glad you have come/ she said in a feeble tone, fixing her languid eyes on 'Nel- 
 lie's face. ' I have but a short time to live, and in my dying hour 1 have a confession 
 to make to you.' Pointing to the picture of the ' Last Supper,' she inquired in a feeble 
 voice: ' Have you examined that picture?' 
 
 Nellie responded in the affirmative, • 
 
 ' You haye recognized Major Foster's features,' she said, glancing through the dim light 
 towards the picture at the side of her bed, 'and doubtless .you have.wondered to see 
 them there. And it was wrong in me, who have given up the world, to retain any 
 trace of the wicked idolatry which, in spite of fast* and penauces, long divided my 
 heart with the holy things which should have possessed it exclusively. But 0, lady, you 
 Tvho know him and who loved him once, can pardon my weakness. Ile^as so kind, so 
 generous, and so noble, that 1 could cot help loving him, although I knew from the first 
 that he loved another. For he made no effort to conceal his love for you, and employed 
 me to paint your portjait from a daguerreotype which he always wore in a locket next 
 to his heart. I thought, as he delighted to think, that you loved him ajso ; and I made 
 
A CHIOKAHOMINY STORY. 47 
 
 no effort to witi his> lovo from you, paitly'U cause I thought it would be impossible, and 
 partly because I thought it would be wrong. Yet you could never have loved him as ] 
 did, if you were capable ol' believing him guilty of the crime with which he was charged, 
 or even, if believing bim guilty, you could renounce him. Your rejection cost him dearly; 
 he has never been himself since. When I found that you had cast him on', 1 would have 
 won him if I Could ; but I could not. And seeing that this was impossible, I determined, 
 on my aunt's death, to enter this asylum, that in its seclusion and the right performance 
 of my religious duties, I might forget a love which had rendered me so uuhappy. lie 
 loves you still, and oh ! promise me. that when the confession I have to make is received, 
 you will believe him guiltless, as ho is. and make him happy with your love. 
 
 'I am tbe Mademoiselle Le 3run, of whom Lieutenant Foster spoke to you in his letters 
 from Fort Al< xander; and J had a brother, Victor Le Brun, whr> was a private in the 
 garrisuo at that place while Lieutenant Foster was there. But or. the very day after the 
 trial of Lieutenant Foster, for the murder of Lieutenant Harrison, he deserted from the 
 fort, and I never heard from him afterwards, until about ten day* before my illness, when 
 
 he was brought to the St. Francis de Sales Hospital, from the Louisiana regiment, 
 
 ill with the fever. Notwithstanding his miserable condition and changed appearance, 
 I recognized him immediately, and devoted my whole time and attention to him, vainly 
 hoping to be ab'e to save his life ; but God had decreed otherwis • — he di ; id aiewdays 
 after reaching the hospital. During his illness, he had frequent lucid intervals, n ,! during 
 one of these he confessed to me that he murdered Liei nam Ban won. His had; indeed, 
 been a wild and Wicked life; but be died repentant and hopeful of E through 
 
 the atoning blood of our Saviour. And although he has gone where, ne - opi- 
 
 nion nor the penalty of the law can reads him, T would not expose inly that, 
 
 I think it is due to Major Foster to do so.' 
 
 During the latter part of this communication, Sister Thereat had spoken with great 
 difficulty, ancf at its close she began to sink so suddenly that Nellie, alarmed, roused up 
 Sister Agues. The pridst was summoned to administer the rites of the church, and the 
 sisters gathered around the couch of their dying companion to watch with tearfut eyes 
 her last moments. In a few minutes, the beautiful and unfortunate Theresa Le Brun 
 was no more. She sank to sle.ep as sweetly as a babe. 
 
 CHAPTER VI II. 
 
 For many months after the battle of Manassas, while the ' Grand Yankee Army of tbe 
 Potomac,' under the ' LittU Napoleon,' w«s being rc-organized, greatly augmented, drilled 
 and equipped for one short and brilliant campaign, iu which Richmond was to bo taken 
 and the ' rebellion crushed,' "Walter Maynard remained in glorious inactivity in Lie camp 
 near Washington. The disastrous result of his first encounter with his wronged and 
 outraged countrymen had greatlv disappoiuted his expectations, and suggested the pro- 
 bability of his having staked his all on the losing side; however, he thought it was now 
 too late. ta rectify his error, if error he had committed. .After exhibiting the cofrrage 
 and dash wtikh ho was a. shown at Manassas, wliile so many around 
 
 1dm were giving evidence of cowardice and incapacity, he thought that he might expect 
 rapid promotion in tbe Federal' arm] i \ eclal y as it n sly increased. 
 
 But, greatly to his disappointment and d "held blat.i - irely 
 
 ignorant of military affairs, appointed to high p dtioua in the army, « men, 
 
 who had made military i r 6tudy i erior 
 
 offices. While political g< oerarfl were springing up around him like mushrooms, ho was 
 elpwly advanced to the rank of colncel. ngjy 
 
 opposed to tbe political tenets of those around him. acd heartily disgusted 
 
48 THE RIVALS: 
 
 coarse manners and loose morals of many of- his, companions in arms, he began to find 
 his position a most embarrassing, and., to say the least, unpleasant one. 
 
 In this condition of affairs, at the opening of the second campaign, when the scene 
 •was shifted from the Potomac to the Chickahominy, he found himself once more among 
 the scenes of his childhood, tlis regiment was in the advauce corps of McCIellan's army ; 
 and as he rode slowly forward at the head of his men, each familiar spot upou which 
 his eye rested, recalled memories and awoke associations which stirred his soul to its 
 ve,ry depths. Base renegade as he was, lie could not witness, without emotion, the deso- 
 lation and devastation which the depredations of the invading army were inflicting upon 
 the land of his birth, which had once been so dear to him. The greater portion of the 
 white inhabitants had fled from their homes, which had been speedily stripped of every 
 thing portable by the hireling troops; but he frequently met with negroes ho had known, 
 who, having been seduced from their masters, were following the Yankee army in the 
 capacity of cooks and hostlers. The bold impudence and reckless, restless bearing ot 
 these, as contrasted with their former composed, contented demeanor and cheerful polite- 
 ness, impressed him very painfully. 
 
 For & week or more after the arrival of the Yankee army in Hanover, Col. Maynard 's 
 regiment was kept on picket duty in the front ; but at the end of that time it was re- 
 lieved and sent to the rear. Thus having much leisure,' and finding the time bang heavy 
 ou his hands, he took occasion to visit those places within the Federal lines with which 
 .be had been most familiar. The first place he visited was Fairfield, which he had passed 
 wl .".\ leading his regiment to their first position 4m th,e Chickahominy, n8ar Mechanics- 
 , . At the first news of the evacuation of Yorktown by the Confederates, Mrs. Gardiner 
 had removed her servants from Fairfield to a farm she owned in a portion of the State 
 not liable to invasion, and had gone with her daughter to her brother's on the Pamunkey 
 river. From the first occupation of the adjoining county by the Yankees, her house had 
 been used by them as a hospital. When Maynard visited the plantation/the destruction 
 of fences, crops, and out-buildings bad been complete ; and it presented a scene of naked 
 desolation which he found bard to recognize as the pleasant, happy homestead of former 
 times. After war.dciing aimlessly through the rooms in which he had spent so many 
 happy hours, he went out into the garden and stood once more before the honey-suckle 
 arbor, as he had stood there four years before ; bufc« how different the scene that now 
 met his view ! The vines, laden with clusters of blossoms which perfumed the sur- 
 rounding atmosphere, clambered over the arbor in the same rich luxuriance, and with 
 the same cheerful beauty in this fresh May air that they had worn in the golden autumn 
 light of that memorable afternoon; but instead of the two faif, graceful young figures 
 they had then shaded, he beheld half a dozen dirty Dutchmen, the. relief-guard, seated 
 around a little table in the arbor, playing cards, with pipes iu their mouths and a bottle 
 of liquor near them. Instead of the softly-breathed words of love he had then .over- 
 heard, his ears were now assailed by a volley of coars,e oaths, uttered in broken English 
 or low Dutch, and enforced by rude, menacing gestures. In disgust, he turned away, 
 and pursued his journey to the old Washington Henry Academy. 
 
 The road to'this place led past Pole Green church, the place of worship which he had 
 attended while a pupil at the academy. Reaching the church, an irresistible impulse? 
 caused him to dismount and enter. The place had been a picket-stand for cavalry, and 
 the turf in the ya"rd was trampled and littered by the horses ; the doors had been torn 
 from the hinges, and many of the window shutters broken up and consumed for fire- 
 wood; the gilt clasp had been wrenched frem th« Bible, and the font, blackened by 
 smoke, was lying in the yard near a heap of ashes, where it had evidently been used 
 for culinary purposes; and, worse than all, the walls of the sacred building were de- 
 faced by numerous vulgar caricatures and obscene inscriptions. Col. Maynard advanced 
 
 • to the pew. which he used to occupy when a boy, and, seating himself there, found a 
 
 * momentary pleasure in permitting his mind again to wander back to the scenes of his 
 happy boyhood days. 3n spite of the sad changes around him, the power of association 
 
A CHICKAHOMIXY STORY. 49 
 
 was so strong as to recall scenes ami faces, many of which he had long since forgotten, 
 and some of which he had vainly tried to forget. He seemed to see Charley Foster's 
 bright, frank, hoyish face beside him, as it had been in the happy olden time. When 
 he thought that they were soon to meet in deadly couflict, a shudder ran through his 
 frame In the soft sighing of the breeze through the forest, he seemed to hear the rustle 
 of Nellie Gardiner's dress as she walked down the aisle, and the flutter of her bonnet 
 iibbons in the sweet Bpriag air, as he had often heard theru in happier days — with wliat 
 .1 thrill of delight. The hymns they used to sing there, he and Charley looking over 
 the satm hook, and the very words he had often heard from the pulpit, came back to 
 him froL the shadowy past. One sermon which had deeply impressed him at the time, 
 and the text of which was — ' Be sv.ro your sins will find you out,' recurred to his memory 
 with such force that, to divert the painful train of thought it excited, he* arose and left 
 the church. 
 
 Arriving at the academy- ho n ^° had many changes there to note; for although tb.9 
 Federal camps had not been sufiiciontly convenient for the Northern vaudals to injure it 
 much, yet time, the great destroyer, had left his impress. there. For several years before 
 the war the school had been broken up. and since its close the academy buildings had 
 been let by the trustees to a succession of tenants, each of whom had contributed much 
 to despoil and nothing to improve the place. It was now occupied by a soldier's family ; 
 ri-nd when ho risked the sail, troubled woman who met him, to furnish him with a snack 
 and permit him to rest in her house while it was preparing, she replied that she could 
 only supply him with a very indifferent one, as she was very poor, her husband being in 
 the Confederate army and their five children being dependent on her labor for subsis- 
 tence. The Yankee soldiers, too, had stolen all of her fowls, destroyed her garden, and 
 driven off her only milch cow to their camps. 
 
 Maynard replied that, under these circumstances, he should be sorry to trouble her 
 farther, except to beg the lose of a nip or glass, that he might get some water from 
 the spring. She offered to have the water brought for him, but he declined the offer, 
 and walked off in the direction of the spring, without even inquiring the way, much to 
 the woman's surprise, whr> was ^ire she had not seen him there before. 
 
 The spring had been a favorite haunt of his and Charley's, and was really a very 
 beautiful and romantic spot. .Inst above the place where the cool, crystal stream 
 gushed out of the bank, stood a large beech-tree, the smooth bark of which had beer* 
 sadly excoriated by the mischievous penkni\|ps of various ambitious ones amoDg the 
 academy pupils, who had taken this method of handing down their names to posterity. 
 When he and Charley, before going to West Point, had paid their farewell visit to the 
 academy, they had visited the spring, and the latter had laughingly proposed that they 
 should each carve his own an 1 his sweetheart's name on the opposite sides of the tn ••■. 
 This had been agreed to, and when the work was finished, each had read under the 
 name of the other the initials ' N. (>.' There was no rivalry between them then ; the 
 boyish love of that period had not been stroDg enough for jealousy, and they had only 
 joked each other a little, good-humoredly, on the coinciuence. To-day Walter slowly 
 and tediously cut away with his congress knife, all of the tough bark over which his 
 boyish work had spread in the expansion of the tree, thinking, as he did so, that if it 
 were left, future generations might scornfully point it tut as the name of a traitor and 
 renegade. Ho wished no record or remembrance of himself left here ; for ho felt that, 
 bis life had been a failure, and he knew that he must now be despised by those whose 
 good opinion he had once desired to gain. He had trird earnestly, but vainly, to for 
 everything but the present, and, indeed, he desired at times, to forget even that. 
 
 At the end of an hour-spent at the spring he returned to the house ; and the good 
 wcr.an observed that when ho returned the glass, with many thanks for the me ol 
 his eyes looked red as if ho had been weeping. He remained in conversation with her 
 some time, making many inquiries about- the families around the academy. He also 
 asked for a description of her cow, which he set down on his tablets, and promised 
 * 4 
 
50 . THS RIVALS : , - 
 
 {"Ogssible, to rcstore.it to her. On leaving, Maynard slipped a gold dollar into the hand 
 of' each of the five white-headed children who had stood clinging to their mother, with 
 their thumbs in their mouths during the whole conversation. 
 
 •Sure enough, greatly to the joy and surprise of the poor woman, her cow returned in 
 A day or two; and the Colonel's Irish servant who drove it, brought also a large bag oi 
 sutler's stores, as a present, from his master. As may be supposed. Walter's singular 
 conduct on this 'occasion, made a strong impression, and the soldier'*, wife has not yet 
 ceased to astonish and entertain her friends with a description of the kind and polite 
 Yankee officer who restored her cow — the only gentleman, she solemnly avers, that she 
 saw in the whole Federal army. 
 
 For several days after his visit to the academy. Col. Maynard remained iu his teut, 
 Fftoody and silent; then, remembering that by a secret movement of a part of McCiel- 
 ian's forces, Poplar Lodge was now in the Yankee lines, he concluded, to visit his aunts, 
 inquire into their condition, and assist them &s far as miiiht he possible. But on hit> 
 arrival there, he fonnd the place deserted. The Yankee camp covered a part of thfr 
 farm, and the soldiers, as usual, had destroyed everything dcstructable about the pre- 
 mises. An artillery company had encamped in the yard, which had been stripped of its 
 enclosure, and trampled to powder by the horses which had been tethered to the trees. 
 The doors and weather-boarding had been stripped from the house, and bits of charred 
 ciahogany scattered around, showed what had been the fate ol" the old-fashioned furni- 
 ture which Miss Judith and Miss Emeline had been wont to keep bo brightly polished. 
 The kitchen and Uncle Thomas' house were as naked and empty as the dwelling, and 
 Walter had just concluded that the family must all have moved away before the ad- 
 vance of the federals, when, on passing a cedar hedge, which skirted the hill somo dis- 
 tance below the house, he heard a deep groan which seemed to i*sne from the very 
 besom of the earth, and to wind through a subterranean labyrinth on its passage to the 
 rpper air. Pausing to listen, he heard a voice, which he recognized as Uncle Thomas', 
 catering the following "prayer: 
 
 ' O, Lord, deliver us! Good Lord, save us. O, Lord, arise in our defence. Drive 
 back these Philistines that have come up against us — these worse than Egyptians, that 
 job and despoil us. Let loose upon them the thunder-bolts of Thy wrath. Grind them 
 v.ader the chariot-wheels of Thy justice. Scatter them as chaff before the wind.- — 
 Smite them as Thou didst the hosts of Scnnecharib. "Overthrow them both hoise and 
 rider into the Pved Sea of thy destruction. * 
 
 < And Thou, O Lord, who seest the little sparrows when they fall upon the ground, 
 and hearest the young ravens when they cry to Thee, take knowledge ( 1 "i'hy unworthy 
 servant Thomas. Suffer him not to parish,' but give him this day his daily bread. Thou 
 who didst send the ravens to feed Elijah in the wilderness, succor poor Thomas. G 
 Lord, have mercy/ 
 
 The plaintive, sing song tone in which this remarkable petition was uttered, inter- 
 spersed with indescribable groans, would have been truly ludicrous if it Lad riot been so 
 genuinely pathetic. Moreover, Walter knew that Uncle Thomas, unlike most old ne- 
 groes, though possessing many staunch virtues, made but little pretension to piety ; and 
 be felt sure that only in the greatest distress would he be driveu to his knees with this 
 fervent, if not very orthodox, invocation of the Almighty. His unique prayer, while 
 evincing a considerable knowledge of Bible history, betrayed such an ignorance of the 
 true gospel spirit, as has been of late glaringly displayed by many who make much 
 greater pretensions and have enjoyed many more opportunities than Uncle Thomas. 
 So thought Col. Maynard, who, as a matter of curiosity, had sometimes listened to the 
 'blood and thunder' political harangues which disgrace so many Northern pulpits. But 
 i e did not take time to moralize much, for anxious to learn the condition and where- 
 abouts of his aunts, he crept through an opening in the hedge, and accosted the old negro. 
 
 At the sound of his voice, Uncle Thomas rolled up his eyes, tare?/ up his Lands, and 
 Uttered another long, deep groan. 
 
A CHICKAHOMINY STORY. 51 
 
 1 How are yon, Uncle Thomas ?' repeated Walter. 
 
 'Miserable! miserable! rnh.cd !' groaned the old man. * Thousands would'ut repair 
 the damage; 'and we havn't got a cent. Times was so hard that we could hardly live 
 before ; and now we are bound to starve. Thousands wouldn't replace what we've lost ; 
 every living thing eaten up; every green thing devoured by these blue-legged locusts; 
 the bouse pulled all to pieces ; the fences all burnt.; the horse stolen ; the very furniture 
 that used to stand in your grandfather's drawing-room taken for firewood. God knowe 
 ( tried to save something; but they cussed me, called me a ' Rebel nigger,' and threat- 
 ened to stick their bagooets in m*. I asked 'em was that the way for gemmen to 
 behave ; and they cussed me again, and asked me what did I know 'bout gemmon. ] 
 told them I had been raised with gemmen, and by gemmen that wouldn't 'a had a Yan- 
 kee to black thar boots; and at that, one that they called the corporal, knocked me 
 down. Here is the place he struck, you can see il now,' said Uncle Thomas, pointing to 
 his forehead, where a large coutusion was visible. 
 
 •Well, what else could you expect, if you were impertinent to them?' asked Col. 
 Maynarrl. 
 
 'La! Mars Walter, you can't sarst them people ; they ain't no better' u niggers, nor 
 no good, in my opinion. AH that will turn ginst thar marsters and go with them, and 
 lie and steal for them, it's 'hail fellow, well met/ they are gemmen ; but them that stay? 
 with their marsters and mistresses that has raised 'em, are infernal niggers! Why, at 
 the very time they was stealing and destroying everything here, they had Smith's John, 
 the grandest rogue and liar in the county of Hanaracro, with 'em, wclkiu' arm in arm,- 
 and wiastlin' and tusslin' with him ; and he wasaggin' 'em on, tellin' them that I guided 
 the 'Rebels' bout here, and fed thar pickets. A grand rascal ; he owed me a grudge for 
 « atchin' hi; a stealin' Mies Judith's turkeys last winter, and carryin' him before the mag- 
 istrate. * He got thirty- nine lashes then, and I wish it had bin thirty-nine hundred.' 
 
 ' We!!,* said Walter. ' how much of John's information was true.' 
 
 'Why. you see.' said Uncle Thomas, scratching his head, 'when these Yankees was 
 advancin' forward here, and our people advancin' back before 'em, Mars Bernard Gard- 
 er and some of his men stood picket near the Lodge gate a day and night, and as they 
 didn't have but mighty little to eat, I cooked up some eggs and chickens and bread and 
 - arried it to them. And one day. when Mars Charley Foster and some cavalry come by 
 here reconnoitering, I just told 'em whir ten Yankees was standing picket, and they 
 surrounded 'em and patched 'cm. But John didn't know nothing 'bout this; 'twas 8 
 -ecret between me an' them, and he just told what he did for a lie.' 
 
 ' But ray aunts.' said Walter, ' where are they 7 and have they saved nothing ?' 
 
 'They went to Richmond, thank the Ix>rd, and carrieJ all of the servants but me, 
 and the plate and family portraits, aud their clothes, and tie beds and table linen. I 
 was left here, by my owe request, to take care of the things— a miserable old fool that 
 ( was. Why. I might as well 'a been dropped in James river and told to keep my feet 
 dry. They've made a clean sweep of it. My axe and frying pan and a little bag of 
 meal was the last things left, r.nd yesterday when I put on a, hoe-cake to bake and went 
 to look for some blackberries to eat with it for my dim., r — for you know, Mars Walter, 
 I never was used to eating dry bread— they come and stole them — hoe-cake and all — and 
 since then I aint had Qtthiqg but blackberries to eat ; and my stomach begins to feel 
 eighty weak.' 
 
 ' I will sec that you do ret suffer,' said Walter, ' but you spoke just now of having 
 seen Charley Foster. Was he well ? And what is his rank in the Southern army ?' 
 
 • He is a Colonel,' was tre reply, ' and when T saw him riding at the head of his regi- 
 ment, looking so grard and so handsome, that time I drove the ladies over to sec the 
 review, you can't thir.k, Mar? Walter, how I wished you bad I een there too.' 
 
 ' Wei', I am a Holerc' oa it is,' cteerved Walter, ' and if yov. will go ever to the camp 
 
52 THE RIVALS: 
 
 of my division when we have our next review. I will engage In show you a much finer 
 spectacle than the Southern army can afford; for our men are splendidly equipped, 
 while the Confederates, I hear, are both dirty and ragged.' 
 
 ' Well, that may be,' said Uncle Thomas, shaking his head, ' but fine feathers don't 
 make fine birds. I know one thing, our men was all around Poplar. Lodge for more- 
 than a week, and not so much as a chicken was stolen, while these Yankees hadn't been 
 here three days before they had everything — even down to my axe aud frying pan and 
 little bag of meal, as I was telling you.' 
 
 'Never mind,' replied Colonel Maynard, 'I will repair your losses, as far as I can. 
 But how were my aunts when you saw them last ? And what have they been intet 
 iDg theYnselves in since I was in Virginia. Do they ever speak of me ?' 
 
 'Ah! that they do,' said Thomas sadly ; ' and I can assure you, sir, that your course, 
 in taking sides with the Yankees, and turning your sword against Old Virginny, as Miss 
 Judith says, has grieved them mightily. Your conduct has caused them to be mistrust- 
 ed and doubted, and brought disgrace upon them. Miss Emcline says that when it was 
 first known about here, that you had goue with the Yankees, the As, and B's and G's, 
 all old friends of the family, would scarcely speak to her at church. But since it is known 
 how distressed and angry they are at your course, people begin .to pity them and notion 
 them a great deal. Miss Judith says it nearly breaks her heart that a Maynard should 
 be a traitor to his country. And when Mrs. Harrison, and Mrs. Gardiner, and Miss 
 Nellie were dining here last summer, they were, talking about you, and called" you a 
 Benedict Arnold, a Judas Iscariot, a renegade, and all sorts of names.' 
 
 'Well, you need not repeat any more of their compliments.' said Walter; ' I could 
 thank them to confine their attention to their own affairs, and let mine alone. But pray.. 
 is Miss Nellie Gardiner still unmarried? and where is she at this time ?' 
 
 ' She is at her uncle Harrison's,' replied Uncle Thomas, ' and is not married : and 1 
 heard her tell Miss Emeline last summer, when she was joking her about a Geaevai 
 somebody from the South, that she never meant to be.' 
 
 Arriving again at camp, a passport was obtained, and Uncle Thomas sent bey'ond the 
 Yankee lines. 
 
 * As soon as Walter had heard that Miss Gardner was in their lines, and therefore, as 
 he thought, accessible to him, a fierce and unconquerable desire to see her took posses* 
 sion of his soul. And having occasion to visit the White House a few days afterwards. 
 he determined to make a detour by Mr. Harrison s, pay his respects to the Ladies there, 
 and offer to assist them as far as he could, while the Federal army might be round them. 
 
 When he was approaching the house he saw about a dozen stragglers from the Yan- 
 kee army in the yard and garden, shooting the chickens, gathering the strawberries, and 
 committing all sorts of depredations. A servant had just been to them with a message, 
 which was received with shouts of coarse laughter ; and on her return, a head, which he 
 recognized as Nellie's, was put out of an upper window, and in a voice of gentle en- 
 treaty, she begged that they would leave a few of the strawberries for a sick lady who 
 could eat nothing else, addiug that there were very few rtpo, and that^hey had not yet 
 had a dish for the family. » ( * 
 
 'Ha! ha ! hal' laughed the Yankees, cramming in the strawberries with both hands; 
 
 * we ain't had none yit.' Then one of the worst looking of the set cried out that she bad 
 better mind how she showed her d — d pretty face, or they would leave the strawberries, 
 and come after her. 
 
 Galloping up to the garden, Col. Maynard drew his pistol on the stragglers, and ordered 
 
 them to disperse. They hastened to obey, and scampered in all directions. When 
 
 he had seen the last one leave the premises, he entered the house and sent up his card to 
 
 Miss Gardiner. In a few minutes it was returned, with the following words written in 
 
 • pencil od the reverse: ' 
 
 ' Miss Gardiner acknowledges and desires no acquaintance with the enemies of her 
 country.' 
 
A CHICKAHOMINY STORY. 53 
 
 Mortified beyond expression, and wounded to tbc quick, Col. Mayuard remounted his 
 hone and galloped back to camp. 
 
 The next day Col. Maynard's regin^er.l was again ordered to the front ; and during 
 ?! :■; grand series of battles and skirmishes which filled up the next few weeks, beginning 
 with the battle of Hanover Court FTonse, and culminating in the seven days' fighting 
 around Richmond, he was kept so actively engaged as to have but little time for the ter- 
 rible thoughts which haunted him whenever bis mind and body were at rest. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 It was the 27th .luno. 1862 ; and before the Confederate capital two powerful armies 
 
 were drawn up, prepared for the fearful Conflict which was to decide the fato of that 
 
 much coveted city. During several houss of the preceding afternoon, portions of the 
 
 two armies bad been hotly engaged, on McClellan'e extreme right, near Mccbamcsvillc ; 
 
 the Federals had been driven from their position tlftre. Stonewall Jackson, the 
 
 hero of many victories, was leading his invincible little army, flushed with the glory of 
 
 ti ! Valley campaign, by rapid marches to the assistance of their over-matched com- 
 
 < before Richmond. Indeed, on the morning the 27th, they had already penetrated 
 
 Yankee line-, and in the vicinity of I'ole Green Church, were preparing, by a short 
 
 rest, to be burled like an avalanche upon the enemy. But the Federal army, in vastly 
 
 superior numbers, armed with the most improved weapons, equipped and supplied with 
 
 a thoroughness and elaborateness rarely excelled, and occupying well chosen positions of 
 
 _ it natural strength, onposod a most formidable fiont to the Confederate forces. 
 
 [n this condition of affairs, nothing could be more doubtful than the issue of the ap- 
 uohiug battle ; and only tbe All-seeing God could tell what were the emotions of the 
 
 tabitants of Richmond and the sourrounding country, as they awaited, in breathless 
 -i spense, the end of an engagement which was to result in their deliverance from an 
 i -ulting, tyrannical, and unprincipled foe, or to condemn thctti, for an indefinite period, 
 to the presence and rulo of a despotic, marauding, and bitterly despised enemy, 
 
 Only He who is love, and who has fashioned the human heart with its warm, deep 
 
 affections and passions, to whose omniscient eye all things, from the least to the great- 
 
 • re plain, knows with what throbs of agony the mothers, sisters and wives of the 
 
 brave Southerners listened to the reverberations of the cannon and small arms which were" 
 
 hurling missiles <>f destruction at the breasts of those who were near and dear to them. 
 
 Weak, pale, trembling in the seclusion of their ir .nes and the privacy of their closets, 
 
 ■ could only weep and pray, yet through those fearful hours they wrestled with the 
 
 lluler of the Universe in such an agony of fervent supplication as could not fail of good 
 
 Its; and the God o( battles fought that dav with the Confederate army. 
 
 At an early hour of the morning, when the struggle was but just commencing, Col. 
 !'• iter's regiment, which was in the van of the attacking army, was ordered to snpport 
 a i'attery of artillery which was planted on the crest of a hill just in the rear of his 
 mother's house, ar Heaver Dam. The Cbickahominy, as is well known, had for several 
 weeks formed tf.e line at this point between the two armies; and Reaver Dam had, 
 therefore, been in the Yankwc Hues, and had been visited with the destruction and deso- 
 lation that that elegant, cfvilized, and humane people are so fond of inflicting. Colonel 
 Poster had observed the desolation of bis home and the destruction of his property with 
 marked composure : but when he reached the graveyard, where his father was buried, 
 Mtoated on the hill where the Confederate artillery was being placed in position, and 
 «aw with what sacrilege his parent's grave had been visitod bythe Yankee barbarians, 
 bis heart swellr d with strong emction. The wooden railing arephd the grave had been 
 
 
.54- THE RIVALS : 
 
 consumed for fire wood, aud the marble slabs on which we.ro inscribed t'ie uam.e and 
 «pitaph, had been used as a hearth — probably during a wotseason — was cracked from 
 gne end to the other by heat. The contemplation of this outrage excited in him th^ 
 Strongest indignation. With a kindling eye and a look of high resolve, he repeated, al- 
 most unconsciously, those fine lines from Marco Bozzaris : 
 
 "Strike! till the last armed foe exprres, 
 Strike ! for your altara and your fires ; 
 Strike ! for the green graves of your eirefl ; 
 God and your native land." 
 
 And in bis heart he devoted himself with redoubled ardor and devotion to the task 
 ■ of delivering bi6 native land from the presence of the lawless vandals. 
 
 When the battery he was ordered to support opened upon the enemy, he observed 
 that the pieces were not very accurately aimed ; and alter making pome suggestions to 
 the artillery officer in command, he took out his eye glass and carefully scanned the 
 position of the enemy. Since he and Walter had plavcd and hunted along the Beaver 
 Dam, the woods bad all been cleared from the sides of the hiils skirting the creek at this 
 point, and the mill-dam bad been drained, fcjltyson's mil! being now worked by the cur- 
 rent of the stream. Across a meadow, or morass, through which th# Beaver Dam Creek 
 flowed, on a range of lofty 4iills, the Yankees were posted behind, stroug earth-works. 
 and Col. Foster saw that the task of dislodging them nmst be a bloody one. 
 • Being familiar with the ground, he was able to calculate exactly the distance of th» 
 enemy, and the attitude of their postion, and he devoted his attention to the working of 
 the guns by which be was stationed, aud for more tiun an hour stood beside his father^ 
 grave directing the fire of the artillerists. 
 
 In the meantime Col. Maynard's rGgiment was posted in the rifle nits above the mill, 
 immediately opposite to the hill upon which Charley was stationed, and under the deadly 
 fire of Confederate artillery commanded and mostly aimed by Col. Poster. A more mis- 
 • arable and a more reckless man than Walter Maynard, one more indifferent to the issue 
 Of the battle and of his own personal safety, did not exist amoug the two vast hosts 
 contending there in deadly conflict. Those green hills and. that bright summer morning,, 
 . recalled memories aud awoke associations which wrung his heart with agony. While 
 he stood there clothed in the Yankee uniform, and exposing his life in the Federal cause, 
 he would have gladly sacrificed fortune and fame to stand by Charley Foster's side 
 among that noble band of self-sacrificing Southern patriots, whose valor and heroism 
 challenged his respect and excited his highest admiration. Thus, while the deadly rnis- 
 . 3iles were flying around him, he scarcely needed them ; for conscience, lately aroused. 
 I was lashing him with* a whip of scorpions for his treachery to his friend and to his coun- 
 • try. For some time past he had been oppressed with a fearful presentiment of ap- 
 proaching death; and while he felt life to be a burden, his soul recoiled in horror from 
 the thought of standing in judgment beforea just and righteous God. Torn by con- 
 i flicting emotions, and scarcely conscious of what he was doing, he exposed himself fool- 
 1 ishlj and unnecessarily to the Confederate fire; and before the conflict had lasted an 
 hour r he was mortally wounded by the fragment of a shell, and borne to the rear, i-u an. 
 insensible condition. As soon as the surgeon had examined his wound and pronounced 
 it mortal, he was placed in an ambulance and sent to the hospital at Fairfield. The 
 house there being already uncomfortably full of the wounded from the fight at Mechao- 
 icsville the evening before, he was placed by his servant and the ambulance driver in a 
 little office on the edge of the yard. 
 
 In the meantime, the battle raged fiercely at Ellyson's mill. Several times the Con- 
 federates attempted to carry the heights by direct assault; but through the treacherous 
 morass, and under the murderous fire from the enemy's works, this was- found imprac- 
 ticable; they were finally gained by a flank movement; not however until many ft 
 brave soldier had there made libation of his life's blood. 
 
A CniCKAHOMINY STORY. 55 
 
 Driver; \\\.ra Mechanics ville and Ellvaon's mill, the .Federal troops fell back some si* 
 or eight miles to a strong position near Gaines' Mill, where with concentrated forces, 
 they prepare.; to make formidable resistance to the advance of tha victorious Confed- 
 erates. 
 
 Col, Foster's regiment bod suffered considerably at Ellyson'a mill, but he himself bad 
 escaped unhurt. 
 
 The did county roads had been made i in passable by the Yankee artillery and wagon 
 trains during the wet weather which prevailed for some weeks after their' first. occupa- 
 tion of th«: country ; and in following up' the retreating enemy, the Confederates were 
 obliged to proceed »loti£ a tine new military road lately constructed by them. Tbie 
 road led immediately along the yard at. Fairfield, and right under the window of the 
 house in which Col. Maynaril was lying wounded; and wh<m the Southern army 
 passed, many an eye was directed to where the mangled body of the dying renegade 
 
 Seeing so many eyea turned in that direction. Col. Foster rode up to tne window anci 
 looked in. To his shrpri.se be recognised, in the ghastly face and bloody form before 
 him, his former i'riemj and late enemy. Walter Maynard. Calling to the surgeon of bin 
 regiment to follow him, he dismounted and entered the bouse, 
 
 Approaching the cot, he took hold of the cold, bloody hand of his friend of better 
 days, and gi nlly uttered his name. 
 
 But there was no sign of recognition or consciousness in the still, palo face of the 
 sufferer. Winn the m'rgeon had examined his wounds, he assured Col. Foster that they 
 were mortal : lie would scarcely survive twenty-four hours. 
 
 'Poor Walter,,' said Charley, wiping off a tear which had gathered in his eye, ' E 
 would like t o have him call my name ami clasp my hand once more as in the good oM 
 days when wo were boys. J) you think that he will return to consciousness again be- 
 fore he di 
 
 The surg< on replied that, it. was highly probable, as the brain was not affected by the 
 wound, except Prom the shock which the whole system had received from the tretnjn- ' 
 dous force 01 the missile. 
 
 Finding that « el. Maynard's servant had forsaken him, Col. Foster left bis* own man 
 with him, with directions to make him as comfortable aa possible, and hurried onto join 
 his regiment, which a few hours later was in the hottest of the action at, Gaines' mill. 
 Here, after a desperate struggle, the Gen federate aims were again suecessutl. 
 
 It was night, and the battle was over. The cannon which had been thundering BO 
 fiercely all day, now rested, grim and Silent, upon the field ot death ; ami the muske!<J, 
 whose ceaseless mttle had ("or so many hours filled the air with their deafening roar, 
 •now lay scattered, as powerless as the bands that had wielded them, upon the bloody 
 ground, or were stacked where the weary troops bad bivouacked after their fearful wo^k 
 of carnage. As the summer moon, pale and calm, looked down upon the white racesj 
 the bloody forms, and the glazed eyes which had looked their lust, scattered through the 
 forests, along the hiihsidea, and over the plains of that hotly-contested field, no sound 
 disturbed the stillness of night, save the groans and cries of the wounded and dying. 
 Where so lately thousands had rushed along in the impetuous charge, there was now u > 
 sign of life, save the few gray, dusky figures that glide;! about in the moonlight, seek- 
 ing for missing comrades, or bearing them, when found alive, to an ambulance or 
 wagon, that they might be taken to the field hospitals. 
 
 The battle had been fought and won by the Confederates, who had thus gained tb<» 
 key to McClellan's position, cut him off from his base of supplies, aud driven his right 
 wing in upon his left, leaving him no alternative but to surrender unconditionally or 
 retreat as rapidly us possible to the James. There was yet much hard- fighting before 
 the Southern patriots iu following up the still powerful and formidable foe; hut the 
 battle of Gaines' mill had decided the fate of the capital, and Bidm i/Jt. 
 
 With a gallantry unsurpassed by that of auy other officer ou the field, Colonel Foster 
 
50 • THE EIVfLLS: 
 
 fought unscathed through the whole buttle, Until its close, when In pursuit of the flying 
 enemy he had his left arm fractured by a minie ball. The fracture, though not suffi- 
 cient to require amputatioi., was severe, and the surgeon, on binding up the wound, 
 charged him to keep very quiet for several. weeks, and repeated the charge when he had 
 Seen hitxi seated in the am balance which was to take him to Richmond. On reaching 
 Fairfield, and finding Walter still alive, he determined, although he knew it would be 
 Hmprudent to do so, to stop there and remain, with him while he lived. 
 
 On entering the room he found Ma'ynard asleep, but the servant who was wiOn 
 him informed his master that he had been awake and entirely sensible during 
 the whole afternoon ; that he knew where he was, had spoken of his wound, 
 and had listened with great interest to the progress of the battle; and that that 
 evening when the firing had ceased, he bade him ask a courier who was passing, 
 which side had whipped. Being told that the Confederates were victorious, he 
 raised his eyes to heaven and said 'Thank God.' 
 
 The whispering around the couch of the wounded man, who was only dozing 
 uneasily, aroused him, and he asked for water. 
 
 Colonel Foster had a little flask of brandy with him, and pouring some into a 
 cup, held it to Walter's lips, who drank it eagerly without seeming to no.ticc by 
 whom it was proffered; but when he had swallowed it he looked up, and, recog- 
 nizing Col. Foster, grasped his hand and said trcnivdously, while tears sprang to 
 his eyes, ' Charley, is it you ?' • 
 
 'Yes, "Walter,' said Charley, warmly returning the pressure, ' it is I, can I do 
 anything for you ?' 
 
 'I don't deserve your kindness.' said Walter ; ; I never did, for 1 always' re- 
 paid it with ingratitude and treachery; but 1 will not have another chance .to 
 wrong you; 1 am dying fast. Dyinga' he repeated, 'in the land which gave me 
 birth and nurtured me to manhood, that I might in my manhood's strength come 
 against her w r ith a marauding host, to devastate and destroy* to subject her 
 daughters to insult and her sons to bondage — dying,' he groaned, • alone with 
 the man whose happiness T have treacherously wrecked in return for unnum- 
 bered kindnesses. Charley, don't you despise me?' 
 
 'No, Walter,' responded Charley, 'I do not; hut I do, indeed, pity yon.' 
 
 * But you„do not know the worst.' he replied, ' I know you were always gene- 
 rous and forgiving; but arc you a Christian ? Can you forgive one who has "de- 
 liberately and foully wrongf-d you — one who has blighted the dearest hope of 
 vour life ? 
 
 ' I believe I am r, Christian, 1 solemnly replied Charley. ' and that, by the grae* 
 of God, I could forgive such an one, especially if he were repentant.' 
 
 'Well,' said Walter feebly, 'do you remember Bob Harrison's murder?' 
 
 ' f have very good reasons to do so,' was the reply. 
 
 ' Can you pardon me then, when I tell you that when you were being tried for 
 {hat crime, I had almost positive evidence that it was committed by Le Brun, and 
 yet withheld it for the sake of prejudicing Miss Gardiner and her family against 
 you? Did you think me as base ?' 
 
 i I did not,' responded Col. Foster frankly ; ' but I forgives you, as I hope to be 
 forgiven by my Creator for my manifold transgressions.' 
 
 C I sincerely thank you, my dear old friend; but do you think there is a chance 
 of my forgiveness with God ?' 
 
 'He has said,' repeated Col. Foster devoutly, that 'he that cometh unto me I 
 will in no wise cast out,' and 'though your sins be as scarlet, 4hey shall be 
 white as snow.' 
 
 f Then pray for me,' said the dying man, ' for I have never yet learned to pray 
 for mvself.' 
 
A CHICKAHOMINY STORY. 57 
 
 iCneelinp down by the rude pallet, in the solemn moonlight, Charley prayed 
 long, fervently and eloquently for the su fie ring and penitent man before him. 
 
 When he had finished. Walter thanked him. and pointing through the open 
 window to a dark belt of forest bounding a moonlit plain, said: ' Charley, 1 
 think t am going to die to-night, and I wish you to have me buried in those 
 woods — not on the edge, but in the very centre of them— so much out of the 
 way, that none will take the trouble to go there and scoff at the grave of the 
 trajtor and renegade. And you need not trduble yourself about a coffin ; just 
 wrap my blanket about me — man)- a better man has had no better burial since 
 this accursed war.' 
 
 ' Whatever you wish shall be done,' said Charley, pressing the cold hand he 
 held in his owu. 
 
 But Col. Maynard did not die that night, though he grew so much worse, and 
 suffered so intensely, that Col. Foster did not expect him to live until morning. 
 Mis wounds became so painful that his whole frame was at times convulsed with 
 is of agony, while his eyes seemed to start from their sockets, and the foam 
 exuded from his mouth through the firmly sot teeth. His mind too wandered. 
 ■Jiid his delirious ravings, betrayed to Charley what had been his state of mind of 
 late. However, about noon the ne\L day he grew oa-y and composed, and was 
 perfectly conscious, though his feeble pulge and difficult breathing (old that his 
 hours were numbered. Charley's wound had. horn fatigue, excitement and want 
 Of sleep, become very painful ; ar.d for several hours he had been suffering in- 
 tensely with it. but he resolved to remain with Maynard to the last. 
 
 When Stuart's cavalry, on the evening of the the 'JTth had made their dash on 
 the White House, a member of Bernard Gardiner's company hail gone by Mr. 
 Uarnson's and informed Ins mother and sister that lie had been severely wounded 
 iu a skirmish some weeks before, and was then lying in a critical condition at a 
 friend's house in Richmond. As soon as they heard this they rcs'olved to go-to 
 him as soon as the way might be open, and learning tin 1 next morning that the 
 Yankees had been driven across the Chickahominy, they set off for Richmond. 
 The journey was attended with many difficulties, for the road in many places was 
 so cut up by the Yankee wagon trains, as to be almost impassable; when they 
 ed the section of country which had been occupied by the enemy's camps. 
 » hey found its aspect so changed by the general desolation which prevailed, as to 
 be scarcely recognizable, and it .was with difficulty they could find their way 
 amor.g the numerousroads branching off in all directions. In the neighborhood 
 of tl e battle-field, too, they frequently found the Toad completely blocked Dp 
 bj the Confederate wagons and ambulances, and by the crowds of slightly 
 wounded who were flocking in the direction id" Richmond. About noon the} 
 od Fairfield, and were brought to a stand by a wagon train which halted 
 head of them. The driver had stopped their carriage beside a pump at the 
 end c:~ the small house occupied by Charily and Walter, and was watering his 
 horses, which were much jaded. Around this pump a number of wounded sol- 
 diers were standing. Mrs. Gardiner approaching) enquired if a hospital had 
 been established here? one ofthe soldiers replied in the affirmative. V 
 thereupon proposed that they should scud their servant in to see whether any 
 of their friends were among the wounded in the house. 
 
 Walter was lying with his eyes closed, and seemed sinking fast : but at the 
 i of Nellie's voice he raised himself up in a half-sitting posture, and 
 ••laitred, 'I am sure 1 know that voice. Tsn't it Nellie Gardinei 
 
 ('barley nodded affirmatively. , • 
 
 ' Well, then, beg her, for Heaven's sake, to come here instantlv : I have some- 
 
53 XHB RIVALS: 
 
 thing of importance to t>ay to her; bring Uer quickly, for 1 have neatly run ay 
 race.' k 
 
 Charley hurried out to the carriage, and after saluting the ladies, said : ' Mis** 
 Gardiner, Walter Maynard is here dying, and wishes to see you for a momer.i,' 
 
 'Col. Maynard, the traitor and renegade, 5 exclaimed Mrs. Gardiner indignantly. 
 
 Seeing that Nellie hesitated, Col. Foster held out his hand to assist her from 
 the carriage, at the same time saying, ' For the love of mercy, grant his request. 
 Miss Gardiner, he is dying an awful death, gnd is deeply repentant.' 
 
 Nellie hesitated no longer, and Mrs. Gardiner, for the sake of propriety 1 ? fol- 
 lowed her. 
 
 When Miss Gardiner approached Col. Maynard's side and held out her hand 
 to him, he seized it eagerly and said, 'Thank you for coming to me. I know 
 that you must despise me; but I am willing to bear your scorn that I may atone, 
 as far as possible, for the wrong 1 have done. Charley Foster was as innocent 
 as an unborn babe of your Cousin Robert's murder. Victor Le Brun was the 
 murderer;, and I knew it, but would not say so, for I wished you to believe 
 Charley guilty.' 
 
 He was all this time holding Nellie's hand, and at this point he called Charley 
 to him. and taking his hand placed Nellie's in it. Gazing earnestly at them for 
 some moments, he said, k I separated you once, 0, let me have the cynsolation 
 now of re-uniting you. Renew your troth to him, Nellie; he has always been 
 true to you.' 
 
 Nellie blushed and was silent for some moments, then raising her eyes she di- 
 rected a modest glance of inquiry at Col. Foster, who was gazing at her 
 eagerly. , 
 
 'Do you desire it V she asked. 
 
 ' With all my heart,' was the eager i<;spons«. 
 
 ' Then, sir, I again>give you my hand, and with it the same warm affection- I 
 have always* cherished for you.' 
 
 Transported beyond measure, Col. Foster knelt at her feet and covered the 
 tiny hand with kisses. 
 
 • Thank God,' ejaculated Maynard in a hoarse whisper. 
 
 The words had scarcely escaped his lips when he was seized with another pa- 
 roxysm ; his body was contorted with agony ; the purple nails dug into the white 
 palms of his clenched hands, and his teeth were buried in his pale, bluish lips. 
 But suddenly the contracted muscles relaxed; a few gasps parted the' lips of the 
 dying man, and then all w r as over. He fell back upon the couch a corpse. He 
 had sinned and suffered his last on earth. 
 
 When Mrs. Gardiner returned to her carriage, she invited Col. Foster to accom- 
 pany them to Richmond, as there was no longer anything to detain him at Fair- 
 field. After he had given a few directions to his servant in regard to the burial 
 of Col. Maynard, he accepted her invitation and they proceeded on their way to 
 flichmond. 
 
 Seated once more by Nellie's side, be forgot for the moment the scenes of horror and 
 danger through which he had lately passed ; he scarcely felt the pain of his wound, 
 which a short time since was so severe ; but when be bad arrived at his hotel, and_ w*s 
 no longer in her charmed presence, he became conscious of a most excruciating pain Kx 
 his fractured member. His wound indeed proved very severe, and for several weeks 
 the surgeons feared that amputation would be inevitable. He received every attention 
 that friends could bestow, and through their tender nursing, in a few weeks, recovered 
 without the loss of his arm. During his illness, Mrs Gardiner, who was now recon- 
 ciled to the idea of his becoming her son-in-law, especially as since the battle of Gained 
 mill he had been raised to the rank of brigadier-general, sent every day to enquire after 
 

 ' At Appoint U called CW^fo I .v,> ;„ {>* &, 
 
■ 
 
A CHICK AKOMJNY STORY. ' $j 
 
 him ; and she and Nellie and Bernard, as soon as the ia.it.er was able to ride out, called 
 .frequently to s«e him. In tbo society of Lis old friends, Charley was so happy that he 
 .scarcely remembered that a cruel and desolating war was raging in the laud ; and the 
 battles of Cedar Euu and second Manassas seemed to him, from the published accounts 
 he read of them, as unreal aj; dreams. But at the battle of Sbarpsburg bo was again in 
 the saddle, and at the head of his gallant brigade battled maufully for the land of his 
 birth. And again in December he participated in another battle, that of Fredericks- 
 burg, where be reseived a very slight flesh wound, just severe enough, he thought, to 
 justify him in getting a thirty-days' leave of absence. Iudeed, had he not received any 
 wound he would have asked for and obtained a furlough, for Nellie bad consented to 
 make bin: the happiest of men, and December 25th had been selected as the wedding 
 day. 
 
 On that Christmas evening there was a quiet wedding at Fairfield; indeed, it would, 
 have been almost ■£ solemn wedding if the bride, in her simple robe of muslin and 
 wreaths of orange flowers, and the groom, iu his handsome prey uniform, had not looked 
 pcrlatively happy. There were but few persons present, and beaux were particu- 
 larly scarce ; for many who would otherwise have graced the scene with their presence, 
 were sleeping their last sleep on the battle-fields of Gaines' Mill, Malvern Hill, Man a— 
 -as and Shaipsburg ; while many more were on this Christmas evening sitting around 
 the camp fire, talking of the happy past, and regaling themselves with the coarse fare of 
 the soldier. So the ladies had to find such amusement as they could iu ea< h other's so- 
 ciety : for the brave southern boys were payiug their homage at another shrine, th*- 
 same at which Marion of the first revolution paid his — like him they were in love, and 
 their 'sweetheart was liberty.' 
 
 Many a sigh was given, in the midst of this mirthful scene, for the absent ; and as tho 
 
 sweet notes of mcriy mu^ic arose through the rooms, many among the guests romom- 
 
 ] how recently the thunder of battle had rent the air around them, and thought, 
 
 with a shudder, that under the bright carpets over which they trod so lightly the floors 
 
 were yet purple with human bloodi 
 
 Altogether, it was not a very gay wedding ; but Charley and Nellie thought that, not- 
 withstanding there were so many of the attending circumstances that might hava been 
 >ved, it was the very happiest they had ever known. 
 
 THE BSD. 
 
s