How near some of these suffering people have drawn to G.o.d!"

"Yes," said Ellen, "Mrs. Sumpter had a colored woman, to whom they were real mean and cruel, and one day they whipped her and beat her on her feet to keep her from running away; but she made up her mind to leave, and so she packed up her clothes to run away. But before she started, I believe she kneeled down and prayed, and asked what she should do, and something reasoned with her and said, 'Stand still and see what I am going to do for you,' and so she unpacked her clothes and stayed, and now the best part of it was this, Milly's son had been away, and he came back and brought with him money enough to buy his mother; for he had been out begging money to buy her, and so Milly got free, and she was mighty glad that she had stayed, because when he'd come back, if she had been gone, he would not have known where to find her."

"Well, it is wonderful. Somehow these people have pa.s.sed through the darkness and laid their hands on G.o.d's robe of love and light, and have been sustained. It seems to me that some things they see clearer through their tears."

"Mother," said Minnie, "As it is Sat.u.r.day I will visit some of my scholars."

"Well, Minnie, I would; you look troubled, and may be you'll feel better."

"Yes, Mother, I often feel strengthened after visiting some of these good old souls, and getting glimpses into their inner life. I sometimes ask them, after listening to the story of their past wrongs, what has sustained you? What has kept you up? And the almost invariable answer has been the power of G.o.d. Some of these poor old souls, who have been turned adrift to shift for themselves, don't live by bread alone; they live by bread and faith in G.o.d. I asked one of them a few days since, Are you not afraid of starving? and the answer was, Not while G.o.d lives."

After Minnie left, she visited a number of lowly cabins. The first one she entered was the home of an industrious couple who were just making a start in life. The room in which Minnie was, had no window-lights, only an aperture that supplied them with light, but also admitted the cold.

"Why don't you have window-lights?" said Minnie.

"Oh we must crawl before we walk;" and yet even in this humble home they had taken two orphan children of their race, and were giving them food and shelter. And this kindness to the orphans of their race Minnie found to be a very praiseworthy practice among some of those people who were not poorer than themselves.

The next cabin she entered was very neat, though it bore evidences of poverty. The woman, in referring to the past, told her how her child had been taken away when it was about two years old, and how she had lost all trace of him, and would not know him if he stood in her presence.

"How did you feel?" said Minnie.

"I felt as I was going to my grave, but I thought if I wouldn't get justice here, I would get it in another world."

"My husband," said another, "asked if G.o.d is a just G.o.d, how would sich as slavery be, and something answered and said, 'sich shan't always be,'

and you couldn't beat it out of my husband's head that the Spirit didn't speak to him."

And thus the morning waned away, and Minnie returned calmer than when she had left. A holy peace stole over her mind. She felt that for high and low, rich and poor, there was a common refuge. That there was no corner so dark that the light of heaven could not shine through, and that these people in their ignorance and simplicity had learned to look upon G.o.d as a friend coming near to them in their sorrows, and taking cognizance of their wants and woes.

Minnie loved to listen to these beautiful stories of faith and trust. To her they were grand inspirations to faith and duty. Sometimes Minnie would think, when listening to some dear aged saint, I can't teach these people religion, I must learn from them.

Refreshed and strengthened she returned home and began to work upon a dress for a dest.i.tute and orphaned child, and when night came she retired quite early, being somewhat wearied with her day's work.

During his absence Louis had been among the freedmen in a new settlement where he had lately established a school, where, notwithstanding all their disadvantages, he was pleased to see evidences of growth and progress.

There was an earnestness and growing manliness that commanded his respect. They were beginning to learn the power of combination, and gave but little heed to the cajoling words, "We are your best friends."

"Don't you think," Louis said to an intelligent freedman, "that the rebels are your best friends?"

"I'll think so when I lose my senses."

"But you are ignorant," Louis said to another one. "How will you know whom to vote for?"

"Well if I don't, I know how not to vote for a rebel."

"How do you know you didn't vote for a rebel?" said Louis to another one who came from one of the most benighted districts.

"I voted for one of my own color," as if treason and a black skin were incompatible.

In the evening Louis called the people together, and talked with them, trying to keep them from being discouraged, for the times were evil, and the days were very gloomy. The impeachment had failed. State after State in the North had voted against enfranchising the colored man in their midst. The spirit of the lost cause revived, murders multiplied. The Ku Klux spread terror and death around. Every item of Northern meanness to the colored people in their midst was a message of hope to the rebel element of the South, which had only changed. Ballot and bullet had failed, but another resort was found in secret a.s.sa.s.sination. Men advocating equal rights did so at the peril of their lives, for violence and murder were rampant in the land. Oh those dark and weary days when politicians were flattering for place and murdered Union men were sleeping in their b.l.o.o.d.y shrouds. Louis' courage did not desert him, and he tried to nerve the hearts of those that were sinking with fear in those days of gloom and terror. His advice to the people was, "Defend your firesides if they are invaded, live as peaceably as you can, spare no pains to educate your children, be saving and industrious, try to get land under your feet and homes over your heads. My faith is very strong in political parties, but, as the world has outgrown other forms of wrong, I believe that it will outgrow this also. We must trust and hope for better things." What else could he say? And yet there were times when his words seemed to him almost like bitter mockery. Here was outrage upon outrage committed upon these people, and to tell them to hope and wait for better times, but seemed like speaking hollow words. Oh he longed for a central administration strong enough to put down violence and misrule in the South. If Johnson was clasping hands with rebels and traitors was there no power in Congress to give, at least, security to life? Must they wait till murder was organized into an inst.i.tution, and life and property were at the mercy of the mob? And, if so, would not such a government be a farce, and such a civilization a failure?

With these reflections pa.s.sing through his mind he fell asleep, but his slumber was restless and disturbed. He dreamed (but it seemed so plain to him, that he thought it was hardly a dream,) that Minnie came to his side and pressed her lips to his, but they were very pale and very cold.

He reached out his hand to clasp her, but she was gone, but as she vanished he heard her say, "My husband."

Restless and uneasy he arose; there was a strange feeling around his soul, a great sinking and depression of his spirits. He could not account for his feelings. He arose and walked the floor and looked up at the heavens, but the night was very bright and beautiful, still he could not shake off his strange and sad forebodings, and as soon as it was light he started for home.

[Installment missing.]

Chapter XX

In the afternoon when the body had been prepared for the grave, the sorrowing friends gathered around, tearfully noting the look of peace and rest which had stolen over the pale, dead face, when all traces of the death agony had pa.s.sed away by the contraction of the muscles.

"That is just the way she looked yesterday," said a sad-eyed woman, whose face showed traces of a deep "and fearful sorrow."

Louis drew near, for he was eager to hear any word that told him of Minnie before death had robbed her of life, and him of peace. He came near enough to hear, but not to interrupt the conversation.

"She was at my house yesterday, trying to comfort me, when I was telling her how these Secesh used to _cruelize_ us."

"I was telling her about my poor daughter Amy, and what a sprightly, pert piece she was, and how dem awful Secesh took my poor chile and hung'd her."

"Hung'd? Aunt Susan, Oh how was dat?" said half a dozen voices.

"Well, you see it was jist dis way. My darter Amy was a mighty nice chile, and Ma.s.sa could truss her wid any ting. So when de Link.u.m Sogers had gone through dis place, Ma.s.sa got her to move some of his tings over to another place. Now when Amy seed de sojers had c.u.m'd through she was mighty glad, and she said in a kine of childish way, 'I'se so glad, I'm gwine to marry a Link.u.m soger, and set up house-keeping for myself.' I don't spect she wer in arnest 'bout marrying de sojer, but she did want her freedom. Well, no body couldn't blame her for dat, for freedom's a mighty good thing."

"I don't like it, I jist loves it," said one of Aunt Sue's auditors.

"And I does too, 'cause I'd rather live on bread and water than be back again in de old place, but go on, Aunt Susan."

"Well, when she said dat, dat miserable old Heston----"

"Heston, I know dat wretch, I bound de debil's waiting for him now, got his pitch fork all ready."

"Well, he had my poor girl tookened up, and poor chile, she was beat shameful, and den dey had her up before der sogers and had her tried for saying 'cendiary words, and den dey had my poor girl hung'd." And the poor old woman bowed her head and rocked her body to and fro.

"Well," she continued after a moment's pause, "I was telling dat sweet angel dere my trouble, and she was mighty sorry, and sat dere and cried, and den she said, 'Mrs. Thomas, I hope in a better world dat you'll see a joy according to all the days wherein you have seen sorrow!' Bless her sweet heart, she's got in de shining gate afore me, but I bound to meet her on de sunny banks of deliberance.

"And she was at my house yesterday," said another. "She c.u.m'd to see if I wanted any ting, and I tell'd her I would like to hab a little flannel, 'cause I had the rheumatiz so bad, and she said I should hab it. Den she asked me if I didn't like freedom best. I told her I would rather live in a corn crib, and so I would. It is hard getting along, but I hopes for better times. And den she took down de Bible, and read wid dat sweet voice of hers, about de eagle stirring up her nest, and den she said when de old eagle wanted her young to fly she broked up de nest, and de little eagles didn't known what was de matter, but some how dey didn't feel so c.u.mfertable, 'cause de little twigs and sticks stuck in 'em, and den dey would work dere wings, and dat was de way she said we must do; de ole nest of slavery was broke up, but she said we mus'n't get discouraged, but we must plume our wings for higher flying. Oh she did tell it so purty. I wish I could say it like she did, it did my heart so much good. Poor thing, she done gone and folded her wing in de hebenly mansion. I wish I was 'long side of her, but I'se bound to meet her, 'cause I'm gwine to set out afresh for heben and 'ternal glory."

And thus did these stricken children of sorrow unconsciously comfort the desolate and almost breaking heart of Louis Lacroix. And their words of love and hope were like rays of light shimmering amid the gloomy shadows that overhung his suddenly darkened life.

Surely, thought Louis, if the blessings and tears of the poor and needy and the prayers of him who was ready to perish would crystalize a path to the glory-land, then Minnie's exit from earth must have been over a bridge of light, above whose radiant arches hovering angels would delight to bend.

While these thoughts were pa.s.sing through his mind, a knock was heard at the door, and Louis rose to open it, and then he saw a sight which shook all his gathered firmness to tears. Headed by the eldest of Minnie's scholars came a procession of children, each one bearing a bunch of fairest and brightest flowers to spread around the couch of their beloved teacher. Some kissed her, and others threw themselves beside the corpse and wept bitter, burning tears. All shared in Louis' grief, for all had lost a dear, good friend and loving instructor.