"Did he? Oh I wish I'd waked to give him a good hug!"

"I too;" said Elsie, "Papa loves us very much, doesn't he, mamma?"

"Dearly, dearly, my child; you and all his little ones."

Vi's tears were dried and when her father came in she met him with a cheerful face, quite ready for the customary romp, but days pa.s.sed ere she was again her own bright, merry self, or seemed content unless clinging close to one or the other of her parents.

While the family were at the breakfast table, Uncle Joe came in with the mail, his face full of excitement and terror.

"Dem Ku Kluxes dey's gettin' awful dangerous, Ma.s.sa," he said, laying down the bag with a trembling hand, "dey's gone an' shot the stage drivah an' killed 'um dead on the spot. Las' night, sah, jes ober yondah in de road todder side o' Mars Leland's place, and--"

Mr. Travilla stopped him in the midst of his story, with a warning gesture and an anxious glance from one to another of the wondering, half frightened little faces about the table.

"Another time and place, Uncle Joe."

"Yes, sah, beg pardon, sah, Ma.s.sa Edard," and the old man, now growing quite infirm from age, hobbled away talking to himself. "Sure nuff, you ole fool, Joe, might 'a knowed you shouldn't tole no such tings fo' de chillum."

"Was it 'bout my dream, papa?" Vi asked with quivering lip and fast filling eyes.

"Never mind, little daughter; we needn't trouble about our dreams," he said cheerily, and began talking of something else, in a lively strain that soon set them all to laughing.

It was not until family worship was over and the children had left the room that he said to his wife, "The Ku Klux were abroad last night and I have no doubt Uncle Joe's story is quite true, and that our poor little Vi really saw the murder."

Elsie gave him a startled, inquiring look. "You have other proof?"

"Yes; Leland and I met in going our rounds this morning, and he told me he had found a threatening note, signed 'K.K.K,' tacked to his gate, and had torn it down immediately, hoping to conceal the matter from his wife, who, he says is growing nervously fearful for his safety."

"Oh, what a dreadful state of things! Do these madmen realize that they are ruining their country?"

"Little they care for that, if they can but gain their ends,--the subversion of the Government, and the return of the negro to his former state of bondage."

She was standing by his side, her hand on his arm. "My husband," she said in trembling tones, looking up into his face with br.i.m.m.i.n.g eyes, "what may they not do next? I begin to fear for you and my father and brother."

"I think you need not, little wife," he said, drawing her head to a resting place on his shoulder, and pa.s.sing his hand caressingly over her hair, "I think they will hardly meddle with us, natives of the place, and men of wealth and influence. And," he added low and reverently, "are we not all in the keeping of Him without whom not one hair of our heads can fall to the ground?"

"Yes, yes, I will trust and not be afraid," she answered, smiling sweetly through her tears. Then catching sight, through the open window, of a couple of hors.e.m.e.n coming up the avenue, "Ah, there are papa and Horace now!" she cried, running joyfully out to meet them.

"Have you heard of last night's doings of the Ku Klux?" were the first words of Horace Jr. when the greetings had been exchanged.

"Run away, dears, run away to your play," Elsie said to her children, and at once they obeyed.

"Uncle Joe came in this morning with a story that Jones, the stage driver had been shot by them last night in this vicinity," Mr. Travilla answered, "but I stopped him in the midst of it, as the children were present. Is it a fact?"

"Only too true," replied Mr. Dinsmore.

"Yes," said Horace, "I rode into the town, before breakfast, found it full of excitement; the story on everybody's tongue, and quite a large crowd about the door of the house where the body of the murdered man lay."

"And is the murderer still at large," asked Elsie.

"Yes; and the worst of it is that no one seems to have the least idea who he is."

"The disguise preventing recognition, of course," said Mr. Travilla.

Then the grandfather and uncle were surprised with an account of little Vi's escapade.

"If Violet were my child," said Mr. Dinsmore, "I should consult Dr.

Burton about her at once. There must be undue excitement of the brain that might be remedied by proper treatment."

Elsie cast an anxious look at her husband.

"I shall send for the doctor immediately," he said, and summoning a servant dispatched him at once upon the errand.

"Don't be alarmed, daughter," Mr. Dinsmore said; "doubtless a little care will soon set matters right with the child."

"Yes; I do not apprehend any thing serious, if the thing is attended to in time," Mr. Travilla added cheerfully; then went on to tell of the notice affixed to Fairview gate.

They were all of the opinion that these evil doers, should, if possible, be brought to justice; but the nature and extent of the organization rendered it no easy matter for the civil courts to deal with them. The order being secret, the members were known as such only among themselves, when strangers, recognizing each other by secret signs. They were sworn to aid and defend a brother member under all circ.u.mstances; were one justly accused of crime, others would come forward and prove an alibi by false swearing; were they on the jury, they would acquit him though perfectly cognizant of his guilt. In some places the sheriff and his deputies were members, perhaps the judge also[F]. Thus it happened that though one or two persons who had been heard to talk threateningly about Jones, as "a carpet-agger and Republican, who should be gotten rid of, by fair means or foul," were arrested on suspicion, they were soon set at liberty again, and his death remained unavenged.

[Footnote F: See Reports of Congressional Committee of Investigation.]

Chapter Ninth.

"I feel my sinews slackened with the fright, And a cold sweat thrills down o'er all my limbs As if I were dissolving into water."

--DRYDEN.

Early one evening, a few days subsequent to the tragical death of Jones, the Ion family carriage, well freighted, was bowling along the road leading toward the Oaks.

A heavy shower had laid the dust and cooled the air, and the ride past blooming hedgerows, and fertile fields was very delightful. The parents were in cheerful mood, the children gay and full of life and fun.

"Oh, yonder is grandpa's carriage coming this way!" cried Eddie as they neared the cross-road which must be taken to reach Roselands in the one direction, and Ashlands in the other.

"Yes, turn out here, Solon, and wait for them to come up," said Mr.

Travilla.

"On your way to the Oaks?" Mr. Dinsmore queried as his carriage halted along side of the other. "Well, we will turn about and go with you."

"No, we were going to Roselands but will put off the call to another day, if you were coming to Ion," Mr. Travilla answered.

"No, the Dinsmores had not set out for Ion, but to visit Sophie at Ashlands; Daisy, her youngest child, was very ill."

"I wish you would go with us, Elsie," Rose said to Mrs. Travilla. "I know it would be a comfort to Sophie to see you."

"Yes, we have plenty of room here," added Mr. Dinsmore, "and your husband and children can certainly spare you for an hour or so."

Elsie looked inquiringly at her husband.