“‘The city will be burnt,’ I replied, ‘before the inhabitants will consent to have the old flag restored. You’d better make the most, Mr. Charlton, of your opportunity to compound for a fractional part of the value of your Southern property.’ “It was all in vain. I couldn’t make him see it. He hates the war and the Lincoln administration; but he won’t sell or compound on the terms you propose. And, to be frank, I wouldn’t if I were he. It would be a capital thing for us if he could be made to do it. But as he is in no immediate need of money, we cannot rely on the stimulus of absolute want to influence him as we wish. I took my leave, quite disgusted with his obstinacy. “The fall of Sumter seems to have fired the Northern heart in earnest. I fear we are going to have serious work with these Yankees. Secretary Walker’s cheerful promise of raising the Confederate flag over Faneuil Hall will not be realized for some time. Nevertheless, we are bound to prevail—I hope. Of course every Southern man will die in the last ditch rather than yield one foot of Southern soil to Yankee domination. We must have Maryland and the Chesapeake, Fortress Monroe, and all the Gulf forts, Western Virginia, Missouri, Kentucky, Delaware,—every square inch of them. Not a rood must we part with. We can whip, if we’ll only think so. We’re the master race, and can do it. Can hold on to our niggers into the bargain. At least, we’ll talk as if we believed it. Perhaps the prediction will work its fulfilment. Who knows? “Fraternally yours, F. M. S.” CHAPTER XXIX. THE WOMAN WHO DELIBERATES IS LOST. “O North-wind! blow strong with God’s breath in twenty million men.”—_Rev. John Weiss._ “Loud wind, strong wind, sweeping o’er the mountains, Fresh wind, free wind, blowing from the sea, Pour forth thy vials like streams from airy fountains, Draughts of life to me.”—_Miss Muloch._ On coming down to the breakfast-table one morning, Kenrick was delighted to encounter Vance, and asked, “What success?” “I found in Natchez,” was the reply, “an old colored man who knew Davy and his wife. They removed to New York, it seems, some three years ago. I must push my inquiries further. The clew must not be dropped. The old man, my informant, was formerly a slave. He came into my room at the hotel, and showed me the scars on his back. Ah! I, too, could have showed scars, if I had deemed it prudent.” “Cousin William,” said Kenrick, “I wouldn’t take the testimony of our own humane overseer as to slavery. I have studied the usages on other plantations. Let me show you a photograph which I look at when my antislavery rage wants kindling, which is not often.”