“So much the better! I’m ready. I had but one tie to bind me here; and that was Perdita. And she has fled. And what would I be to her, were she here? Nothing! Charles, this day’s news has made me ten years older already. O for an army with banners, to go down into that bloody region of the Rio Grande, and right the wrongs of the persecuted!” “Be patient. We shall live to see the old flag wave resplendent over free and regenerated Texas.” “Amen! Good heavens, Charles!—it appalls me, when I think what a different man I am from what I was when I crossed this threshold, one little hour ago!” “In these volcanic days,” said Kenrick, “such changes are not surprising. These terrible eruptions, ‘painting hell on the sky,’ uptear many old convictions, and illumine many benighted minds.” “Yes,” rejoined Onslow, “in that infernal flash, coming from my own violated home, I see slavery as it is,—monstrous, bestial, devilish!—no longer the graceful, genteel, hospitable, and fascinating embodiment which I—fond fool that I was!—have been wont to think it. The Republicans of the North were right in declaring that not one inch more of national soil should be surrendered to the pollutions of slavery.” “Time flies,” said Kenrick. “Have you any preparations to make?” “Yes, a few bills to pay and a few letters to write.” “Can you despatch all your work by quarter to nine?” “Sooner, if need be.” “That will answer. Have your baggage ready, and let it be compact as possible. I’ll call for you at your room at quarter to nine. Vance goes with us.” “Is it possible? I supposed him an ultra Secessionist.” “He has a stronger personal cause than even you to strike at slavery.” “Can that be? Well, he shall find me no tame ally. Do you know, Charles, you resemble him personally?” “Yes, there’s good reason for it. We are cousins.” Onslow’s heart was too full to comment on the reply. He took up the strands of hair, kissed them fervently, and placed them with his father’s letter in a little silk watch-bag, which he pinned inside of his vest just over his heart. “If ever my new faith should falter,” he said, “here are the mementos that will revive it. God! Did I need all this for my reformation?” “Be firm,—be prudent, my friend,” said Kenrick. “And now good by till we meet again.” Onslow pressed Kenrick’s proffered hand, and replied, “You shall find me punctual.” CHAPTER XXXV. THE COMMITTEE ADJOURNS. “Why now, blow, wind; swell, billow; and swim, bark! The storm is up, and all is on the hazard.”—_Shakspeare._