'No you won't, my friend. For the sake of those at home you won't,' I said, as I took him by the arm, and partly led, partly forced, him toward the door. 'And who in h--l ar ye?' asked the 'corn-cracker,' planting himself squarely in my way. 'I'm on the same side of politics with you, Union to the core!' I replied. 'Ye ar! Union! Then giv us yer fist,' said he, grasping me by the hand, 'by----it does a feller good to see a man dressed in yer cloes thet haint 'fraid ter say he's Union, so close to South-Car'lina, tu, as this ar! Come, hev a drink: come, boys--all round--let's liquor!' 'Excuse me now, my dear fellow--some other time I'll be glad to join you.' 'Jest as ye say, but thar's my fist, enyhow.' He gave me another hearty shake of the hand, and the crowd parting, I made my way with the Colonel out of the room. We were followed by Miles, the landlord, who, when we had reached the front of the entrance-way, said: 'I'm right sorry for this row, gentlemen; but th' boys will hev a time when they git together.' 'Oh! never mind,' said the Colonel, who had recovered his coolness; 'but why are all these people here?' 'Thar's a barbecue cumin' off to-morrer on the camp-ground, and the house is cram full.' 'Is that so?' said the Colonel, then turning to me he added, 'Moye has taken the railroad somewhere else; I must get to a telegraph-office at once, to head him off. The nearest one is Wilmington. With all these rowdies here, it will not do to leave the horses alone--will you stay and keep an eye on them over to-morrow?' 'Yes, I will, cheerfully.' 'Thar's a mighty hard set round har now, Cunnel,' said the landlord; 'and the most peaceable git inter scrapes ef they han't no friends. Hadn't ye better show the gentleman some of your'n, 'fore you go?' 'Yes, yes, I didn't think of that. Who is here?' 'Wal, thar's Cunnel Taylor, Bill Barnes, Sam Heddleson, Jo' Shackelford. Andy Jones, Rob Brown, and lots of others.' 'Where's Andy Jones?' 'Reckon he's turned in; I'll see.' As the landlord opened a door which led from the hall, the Colonel said to me: 'Andy is a Union man, but he'd fight to the death for me.' 'Sal!' called out the hotel-keeper. 'Yas, massa, I'se har,' was the answer from a slatternly woman, awfully black in the face, who soon thrust her head from the door. 'Is Andy Jones har?' asked Miles. 'Yas, massa, he'm turned in up thar on de table.'