Minnie's Sacrifice - Part 9
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Part 9

"A colored woman! well that is very strange; but do tell us what Minnie said."

"She asked her where she came from, and where she lived. She said she came in yesterday with the Union soldiers, and that she had come from Louisiana, and then Minnie told her to come with her, and she would find a place for her to stop."

"And did she leave you in the street to walk with a n.i.g.g.e.r?" said a coa.r.s.e, rough-looking girl.

"Yes, and so I left her. I wasn't going to walk down the street with them!"

"Well, did I ever?" said a pale and interesting-looking girl.

"That is just as strange as a romance I have been reading!"

"Well, they say truth is stranger than fiction. A deceitful thing to try to pa.s.s for white when she is colored! If she comes back to this school I shan't stay!" said the coa.r.s.e rough girl, twirling her gold pencil. "I ain't a going to sit alongside of n.i.g.g.e.rs."

"How you talk! I don't see that if the woman is Minnie's mother, and _is_ colored, it makes any difference in her. I am sure it does not to me," said one of Minnie's friends.

"Well, it does to me," said another; "you may put yourself on an equality with n.i.g.g.e.rs, but I won't." "And I neither," chimed in another voice. "There are plenty of colored schools; let her go to them."

"Oh, girls, I think it real cruel the way you talk!"

"How would you like any one to treat you so?" "Can't help it, I ain't a coming to school with a n.i.g.g.e.r." "She is just as good as you are, Mary Patuck, and a great deal smarter." "I don't care, she's a n.i.g.g.e.r, and that's enough for me."

And so the sentiment of the school was divided. Some were in favor of treating her just as well as usual, and others felt like complaining to their parents that a Negro was in school.

At last the news reached the teacher, and he, poor, weak, and vacillating man, had not manhood enough to defend her, but acted according to the prejudices of society, and wrote Thomas a note telling him that circ.u.mstances made it desirable that she should not again come to school.

In the meantime the news had reached their quiet little village, and of course it offered food for gossip; it was discussed over tea-tables and in the sewing circle. Some concluded that Thomas should have brought her up among the colored people, and others that he did perfectly right.

Still there was a change in Minnie's social relations. Some were just as kind as ever. Others grew distant, and some avoided having anything to say to her, and stopped visiting the house. Anna and Thomas, although superior people, were human, and could not help feeling the difference, but some business of importance connected with the death of a relative called Thomas abroad, and he made up his mind that he would take Anna and Minnie with him, hoping that the voyage and change of scene would be beneficial to his little girl, as he still called Minnie, and so on a bright and beautiful morning in the spring of '62 he left the country for a journey to England and the Continent.

Let us now return to Louis Le Croix, whom we left disappointed and wounded by Minnie's refusal. After he left her he entered his room, and sat for a long time in silent thought; at last he rose, and walked to the window and stood with his hands clenched, and his finely chiseled lips firmly set as if he had bound his whole soul to some great resolve--a resolve which he would accomplish, let it cost what it might.

And so he had; for he had made up in his mind within the last two hours that he would join the Confederacy. "That live or die, sink or swim, survive or perish," he would unite his fortunes to her destiny.

His next step then was to plan how he could reach Louisiana; he felt confident that if he could get as far as Louisville he could manage to get into Tennessee, and from thence to Louisiana.

And so nothing daunted by difficulties and dangers, he set out on his journey, and being aided by rebels on his way in a few weeks he reached the old plantation on Red River; he found his sister and Miriam there both glad to see him.

Camilla's husband was in Charleston, some of the slaves had deserted to the Union ranks, but the greater portion she still retained with her.

Miriam was delighted to see Louis, and seemed never weary of admiring his handsome face and manly form. And Louis, who had never known any other mother seemed really gratified by her little kindnesses and attention; but of course the pleasant and quiet monotony of home did not suit the restless and disquieted spirit of Louis. All the young men around here were in the army or deeply interested in its success.

There was a call for more volunteers, and a new company was to be raised in that locality. Louis immediately joined, and turned his trained intellect to the study of military tactics; day and night he was absorbed in this occupation, and soon, although Minnie was not forgotten, the enthusiasm of his young life gathered around the Confederate cause.

He did not give himself much time to reflect. Thought was painful to him, and he continued to live in a whirl of excitement.

News of battle, tidings of victory and defeats, the situation of the armies, and the hopes and fears that cl.u.s.tered around those fearful days of struggle made the staple of conversation.

Louis rapidly rose in favor with the young volunteers, and was chosen captain of a company who were permitted to drill and stay from the front as a reserve corps, ready to be summoned at any moment.

Chapter XIII

Miriam and Camilla watched with anguish Louis' devotion to the Confederation, and many sorrowful conversations they had about it.

At last one day Miriam said, "Miss Camilla, I can stand it no longer;--that boy is going to lift his hand agin his own people, and I can't stand it no longer; I'se got to tell him all about it. I just think I'd bust in two if I didn't tell him."

"Well, Mammy," said Camilla, "I'd rather he should know it than that he should go against his country and raise his hand against the dear old flag."

"It's not the flag nor the country I care for," said Miriam, "but it is that one of my own flesh and blood should jine with these secesh agin his own people."

"Well, Miriam, if you get a chance you can tell him."

"Get a chance, Miss Camilla, I'se bound to get that."

Louis was somewhat reticent about his plans; for he knew that Camilla was a strong Union woman; that she not only loved the flag, but she had taught her two boys to do the same; but he understood from headquarters that his company was to march in a week, and although on that subject there was no common sympathy between them, yet he felt that he must acquaint her with his plans, and bid her and Miriam good-bye.

So one morning he came in looking somewhat flushed and excited, and said: "Sister, we have got our marching orders; we leave on Thursday, and I have only three days to be with you. I am sorry that I have seen so little of you, but my country calls me, and when she is in danger it is no time for me to seek for either ease or pleasure."

"Your country! Louis," said Miriam, her face paling and flushing by turns. "Where is your country?"

"Here," said he, somewhat angrily, "in Louisiana."

"My country," said Camilla,[7] "is the whole Union. Yes, Louis," said she, "your country is in danger, but not from the Abolitionists in the North, but from the rebels and traitors in the South."

"Rebels and traitors!" said Louis, in a tone like one who felt the harsh grating of the words.

"Whom do you mean?"

"I mean," said she, "the ambitious, reckless men who have brought about this state of things. The men who are stabbing their country in their madness and folly; who are crowding our graves and darkening our homes; who are dragging our young men, men like you, who should be the pride and hope of our country, into the jaws of ruin and death."

Louis looked surprised and angry; he had never seen Camilla under such deep excitement. Her words had touched his pride and roused his anger; but suppressing his feelings he answered her coolly, "Camilla, I am old enough to do my own thinking. We had better drop this subject; it is not pleasant to either of us."

"Louis," said she, her whole manner changing from deep excitement to profound grief, "Oh, Louis, it will never do for you to go! Oh, no, you must not!"

"And why not?"

"Because,"--and she hesitated. Just then Miriam took up the unfinished sentence,"--because to join the secesh is to raise your hands agin your own race."

"My own race?" and Louis laughed scornfully. "I think you are talking more wildly than Camilla. What do you mean, Miriam?"

"I mean," said she, stung by his scornful words, "I mean that you, Louis Le Croix, white as you look, are colored, and that you are my own daughter's child, and if it had not been for Miss Camilla, who's been such an angel to you, that you would have been a slave to-day, and then you wouldn't have been a Confederate."

At these words a look of horror and anguish pa.s.sed over the face of Le Croix, and he turned to Camilla, but she was deadly pale, and trembling like an aspen leaf; but her eyes were dry and tearless.

"Camilla," said he, turning fiercely to his adopted sister, "Tell me, is there any truth in these words? You are as pale as death, and trembling like a leaf,--tell me if there is any truth in these words," turning and fixing his eyes on Miriam, who stood like some ancient prophetess, her lips p.r.o.nouncing some fearful doom, while she watched in breathless anguish the effect upon the fated victim.