“But it's for her,” observed the General, as I suggested the slimness of his purse in contrast with the cost of the vehicle; “it's for her. She shall have a proper carriage to ride in.” “I am more concerned for the coach,” remarked the General, as we went about the western corner of the mansion on our way towards the stables, “then for the horses. If she were here now, her whole tender thought would be of the latter.” The injuries to the carriage were not grievous, and a look of pleased relief filled the General's eyes. The horses, too, had come well through their unauthorized dash along the road, and a hostler, skillful of horse-drugs, gave his word to cure them of every ill received with a quart of wormwood and vinegar, and a spoonful of tar for the cuts. “Beauties, eh?” said the General, as he admired the sleek gray-dappled coats with hand and eye. “Beauties, they are indeed! And descended in direct line from my great horse Truxton. You remember Truxton; that never-beaten King of the Clover Bottom Course?” Truxton would be recalled easily enough. The more, since it was that fleet champion's match with the renowned Ploughboy which in part opened way to the savage duel with Dickenson. Made sure of the safety of his carriage, the General and I turned westward for a stroll. When we were gone no desperate distance, I was all of a sudden shouted after in high-pitched tones, though amiable. We faced about to settle the riddle of the interruption. The calls were from one Rhetz, a member of the Calhoun inner circle. Being of a friendly diplomacy, this Rhetz had maintained good relations with the General and myself. “Ah! here we have our friend Rhetz,” exclaimed the General. Rhetz was yet some distance. While we waited the General made his comment. “He is the one who should come from Calhoun; my silence on Nullification, as Noah warned us, has made the Vice-President nervous, and he would feel me out. I think, Major, and by your leave, I shall clear the business up for them. Come, now, what say you? Let us run up our Union flag like gallant, hearty fellows, you and me, and call on the fray. I think, too, I'll give them my views on Calhoun.” “Would it be wise to declare open war on Calhoun?” “He has for long waged secret war on me,” retorted the General. “No; let us unmask ourselves and thereby unmask him. It will cripple him and strengthen us, since the sole chance he has to harm me is to pretend to be my friend. Moreover, a fierce openness now should serve somewhat to hamstring the enemy's campaign against Peg.” “I was about to call on you,” said Rhetz, greetings over “and was told at the door how you were somewhere for a stroll about the grounds.” “What was your concern with me?” asked the General, his manner most urbane. “No concern at all,” responded the affable Rhetz, “no concern beyond a friendly regard, Mr. President. I would call only to exhibit my friendship.”