"You are the dearest little heart I've met in all the world, I think sometimes," said the older woman, looking at her tenderly. "I wonder how I can ever pay you for half you've done already."

"The doing of it has been its own reward," was the soft reply. "May I help you?"

"If I need it, yes. But I trust it will not be necessary. I still have a little store of gold Doctor Cameron was wise enough to h.o.a.rd during the war. I brought half of it with me when I left home, and we buried the rest. I hope to find it on my return. And if we can save the twenty bales of cotton we have hidden we shall be relieved of want."

"I'm ashamed of my country when I think of such ign.o.ble methods as have been used against Doctor Cameron. My father is indignant, too."

The last sentence Elsie spoke with eager girlish pride.

"I am very grateful to your father for his letter. I am sorry he has left the city before I could meet and thank him personally. You must tell him for me."

At the jail the order of the President was not honoured for three hours, and Mrs. Cameron paced the street in angry impatience at first and then in dull despair.

"Do you think that man Stanton would dare defy the President?" she asked anxiously.

"No," said Elsie, "but he is delaying as long as possible as an act of petty tyranny."

At last the messenger arrived from the War Department permitting an order of the Chief Magistrate of the nation, the Commander-in-Chief of its Army and Navy, to be executed.

The grated door swung on its heavy hinges, and the wife and mother lay sobbing in the arms of the lover of her youth.

For two hours they poured into each other's hearts the story of their sorrows and struggles during the six fateful months that had pa.s.sed. When she would return from every theme back to his danger, he would laugh her fears to scorn.

"Nonsense, my dear, I'm as innocent as a babe. Mr. Davis was suffering from erysipelas, and I kept him in my house that night to relieve his pain. It will all blow over. I'm happy now that I have seen you. Ben will be up in a few days. You must return at once. You have no idea of the wild chaos at home. I left Jake in charge. I have implicit faith in him, but there's no telling what may happen. I will not spend another moment in peace until you go."

The proud old man spoke of his own danger with easy a.s.surance. He was absolutely certain, since the day of Mrs. Surratt's execution, that he would be railroaded to the gallows by the same methods. He had long looked on the end with indifference, and had ceased to desire to live except to see his loved ones again.

In vain she warned him of danger.

"My peril is nothing, my love," he answered quietly. "At home, the horrors of a servile reign of terror have become a reality. These prison walls do not interest me. My heart is with our stricken people. You must go home.

Our neighbour, Mr. Lenoir, is slowly dying. His wife will always be a child. Little Marion is older and more self-reliant. I feel as if they are our own children. There are so many who need us. They have always looked to me for guidance and help. You can do more for them than any one else.

My calling is to heal others. You have always helped me. Do now as I ask you."

At last she consented to leave for Piedmont on the following day, and he smiled.

"Kiss Ben and Margaret for me and tell them that I'll be with them soon,"

he said cheerily. He meant in the spirit, not the flesh. Not the faintest hope of life even flickered in his mind.

In the last farewell embrace a faint tremor of the soul, half sigh, half groan, escaped his lips, and he drew her again to his breast, whispering:

"Always my sweetheart, good, beautiful, brave, and true!"

CHAPTER III

THE JOY OF LIVING

Within two weeks after the departure of Mrs. Cameron and Margaret, the wounded soldier had left the hospital with Elsie's hand resting on his arm and her keen eyes watching his faltering steps. She had promised Margaret to take her place until he was strong again. She was afraid to ask herself the meaning of the songs that were welling up from the depth of her own soul. She told herself again and again that she was fulfilling her ideal of unselfish human service.

Ben's recovery was rapid, and he soon began to give evidence of his boundless joy in the mere fact of life.

He utterly refused to believe his father in danger.

"What, my dad a conspirator, an a.s.sa.s.sin!" he cried, with a laugh. "Why, he wouldn't kill a flea without apologising to it. And as for plots and dark secrets, he never had a secret in his life and couldn't keep one if he had it. My mother keeps all the family secrets. Crime couldn't stick to him any more than dirty water to a duck's back!"

"But we must secure his release on parole, that he may defend himself."

"Of course. But we won't cross any bridges till we come to them. I never saw things so bad they couldn't be worse. Just think what I've been through. The war's over. Don't worry."

He looked at her tenderly.

"Get that banjo and play 'Get out of the Wilderness!'"

His spirit was contagious and his good humour resistless. Elsie spent the days of his convalescence in an unconscious glow of pleasure in his companionship. His handsome boyish face, his bearing, his whole personality, invited frankness and intimacy. It was a divine gift, this magnetism, the subtle meeting of quick intelligence, tact, and sympathy.

His voice was tender and penetrating, with soft caresses in its tones. His vision of life was large and generous, with a splendid carelessness about little things that didn't count. Each day Elsie saw new and striking traits of his character which drew her.

"What will we do if Stanton arrests you one of these fine days?" she asked him one day.

"Afraid they'll nab me for something?" he exclaimed. "Well, that is a joke. Don't you worry. The Yankees know who to fool with. I licked 'em too many times for them to bother me any more."

"I was under the impression that you got licked," Elsie observed.

"Don't you believe it. We wore ourselves out whipping the other fellows."

Elsie smiled, took up the banjo, and asked him to sing while she played.

She had no idea that he could sing, yet to her surprise he sang his camp songs boldly, tenderly, and with deep, expressive feeling.

As the girl listened, the memory of the horrible hours of suspense she had spent with his mother when his unconscious life hung on a thread came trooping back into her heart and a tear dimmed her eyes.

And he began to look at her with a new wonder and joy slowly growing in his soul.

CHAPTER IV

HIDDEN TREASURE

Ben had spent a month of vain effort to secure his father's release. He had succeeded in obtaining for him a removal to more comfortable quarters, books to read, and the privilege of a daily walk under guard and parole.

The doctor's genial temper, the wide range of his knowledge, the charm of his personality, and his heroism in suffering had captivated the surgeons who attended him and made friends of every jailer and guard.

Elsie was now using all her woman's wit to secure a copy of the charges against him as formulated by the Judge Advocate General, who, in defiance of civil law, still claimed control of these cases.