"It has made me, and it will do more for me hereafter than it has ever done yet."

He paused, and then went on, with a glow in his swarthy face:

"Every man has his cherished object in this world, colonel. Mine is the success and glory of the _Examiner_. I intend to make of it what the London _Times_ is in England, and the world--a great power, which shall lay down the law, control cabinets, mould parties, and direct events.

It has given me much trouble to establish it, but _ca ira_ now! From the _Examiner_ I expect to realize the great dream of my life."

"The dream of your life? What is that?--if I may ask without intrusion."

"Oh! I make no secret of it, and as a gentleman speaking to a gentleman, can say what I could not in the society of _roturiers_ or common people. My family is an old and honorable one in Virginia--this, by way of explanation only, I beg you to note. We are thus, people of old descent, but my branch of the family is ruined. My object is to reinstate it; and you will perhaps compare me to the scheming young politician in Bulwer's 'My Novel,' who seeks to restore the family fortunes, and brighten up the lonely old house--in Yorkshire, is it?

You remember?"

"Yes," I said.

"Well, I always sympathized with that character. He is morally bad, you say: granted; but he is resolute and brave--and his object is n.o.ble."

"I agree with you, the object _is_ n.o.ble."

"I am glad you think so, colonel. I see I speak to one who has the old Virginia feeling. You respect family."

"Who does not? There are those who profess to care naught for it, but it is because they are new-comers."

"Yes," was the journalist's reply, "mushrooms--and very dirty ones!"

I laughed at the speaker's grimace.

"For my own part," I said, "I do not pretend to be indifferent whether or not my father was a gentleman. I bow as politely to the new-comer as if it were the Conqueror he came over with; but still I am glad my father was a gentleman. I hope no one will quarrel with that."

"You are mistaken. They will hate you for it."

"You are right--but I interrupted you."

"I am glad the interruption came, colonel, for it gave you an opportunity of showing me that my views and your own are in exact accord on this subject. I will proceed, therefore, without ceremony, to tell you what I design doing some day."

I listened with attention. It is always interesting to look into the recesses of a remarkable man's character. This human being was notable in an epoch filled with notabilities; and chance was about to give me an insight into his secret thoughts.

He twirled a paper-cutter in his fingers, reflected a moment, and said:--

"I am still young--not very young either, for I will soon be forty--but I know no young man who has better prospects than myself, and few who have done so well. I suppose I am worth now nearly $100,000 in good money. I have more gold coin than I know what to do with. The _Examiner_ is very valuable property, and is destined to be much more so. I expect to live long, and if I do, I shall be rich. When I am rich, I shall buy the old family estate in Stafford County, and shall add to it all the land for miles around. I shall build a house to my fancy, and, with all my possessions walled in, I shall teach these people what they never knew--how to live like a gentleman."[1]

[Footnote 1: This paragraph is in Mr. J.M. Daniel's words.]

The glow had deepened on the sallow face. It was easy to see that the speaker had unfolded to me the dream of his life.

"Your scheme is one," I said, "which takes my fancy greatly. But why do you intend to wall in your property?"

"To keep out those wolves called men."

"Ah! I forgot. You do not like those bipeds without feathers."

"I like some of them, colonel; but the majority are worse than my dogs, f.a.n.n.y and Frank, yonder. Sometimes I think they are human--they bite each other so!"

I laughed. There was something _piquant_ in the grim humor of this singular personage.

"What is your ideal man?" I said, "for, doubtless, you have such an ideal?"

"Yes. I like a man of bronze, who does not snivel or weep. I like Wigfall for his physique and his magnificent courage. It is the genuine thing. There is no _put on_ there. He has native pluck--the actual article--and it is no strain on him to exhibit it. The grit is in him, and you can't shake him."[1]

[Footnote 1: This paragraph is in Mr. J.M. Daniel's words.]

"You would admit your men of bronze, then, into the walled-up domain in Stafford?"

"I don't know," he said grimly. "With my violin, a good cook, English books and papers--I hate your Yankee trash--and occasional travel, I think I could get through life without very great ennui. I do not expect to be governor of Virginia for ten years yet!"

And smiling, the journalist said:--

"Let us change the subject. What are people talking about? I never ask what is the news.[1] Is any thing said of evacuating Virginia? That is a pernicious idea![2] Whom have you seen lately?"

[Footnote 1: His words.]

[Footnote 2: His words.]

"A queer set," I said.

And I gave him an account of my dinner at Mr. Blocque's.

"What a little wretch!" he said. "I think I will run a pin through that bug, and impale him. He would make a fine dish served up _a la Victor Hugo_. You have read _Les Miserables_ yonder? It is a trashy affair."

And taking up the elegantly bound volume, which must have cost him a considerable sum, he quietly pitched it out of the window.

As he did so, the printer's devil appeared at the door, holding proof in his hand.

"You see I am never safe from intrusion, colonel. This _Examiner_ newspaper keeps me at the oar."

I rose and put on my hat.

"Come and see me again soon, if it suits your convenience," he said. "I am going to write an editorial, and I think I will serve up your host, Blocque."

"Do not use his name."

"Be tranquil. He will be the type only."

And, escorting me to the door, Mr. Daniel bestowed a courteous bow upon me, which I returned. Then the door closed.

VI.