The Leopard's Spots

ome face was clouded by the deepening shadows of defeat. Rumours of surrender had spr

action, every movement quick with the perfect discipline, the fir

is that?" he

Carolina," an

his eyes filled with tears, he lifted his hat

04 dead and wounded on the ground that night. Company F from Campbell county charged with 91 men and lost every man killed and wounded. Fourteen times their colours were shot down, and fourteen times

5, and the Civil War ended,-the bloodiest, most destructive war the world ever saw. The earth had been b

were no mails, telegraph lines or railroads. The men were telling the story of the surrender. White-f

ren

at the date of its birth was to be the landmark of time. Henceforth all events

ere a stray dog, to be seen. Grim chimneys marked the site of once fair homes. Hedgerows of tangled blackberry briar and bushe

lders stooped, they were dirty and hungry. They looked worse t

e and the mad cry for a third charge from some desperate commander had rung over the field, still without a word they pulled their old ragged hats down close over their eyes as though to shut out t

transformed by the exigency of war from a Chattel to be bought and sold into a possible Beast to

uritan fanatic of the North. She entered the war at last with a sorrowful heart but a soul clear in the sense of tragic duty. She sent more boys to the fro

ed in the foothills of the Blue Ridge under the shadows of King's Mountain. They were the sons of the men who had first declared their independence of Great Britain in America

s of surging hosts greeting returning regiments crowned with victory. From every flag-staff flut

ld should forget the defeated soldiers who without a dol

e fields were clothed in gorgeous robes of wild flowers beneath which forget-me-nots spread their contrasting

dly down one of the principal streets, passed the court house square unobserved in the gathering twilight, and three block

r see my Missy, en tell her Marse Charles's daid. Hit'll

cottage boarded up and down with weatherstrips nestling amid a labyrinth of climbing roses, honeysuckles, f

counties! God-der-mighty, I mus' git somebody ter he'p me! I nebber tell her! She drap daid right

ocking at the door of the par

ast! I knew

John, I'se ho

the promised land of freedom and forgotten your people; but Nelse, I never believed it of you and I'm doubly glad to shake your hand to-night because you

hn, I wuz erbleeg

the hall and called the

s tell her I've received an urgent ca

oom in a helpless way as though trying to find some half forgotten volume in the rows of books that lined the walls and lay in piles on h

t the head of his class at Wake Forest College before the war, and was a profound student of men and books. He was now thirty-five years old and the acknowledged leader of the Baptist denomination in the state. He was eloquent,

y as their preacher. Great churches had called him, but he had never accepted. There wa

e when he had led to the altar the beautiful daughter of the richest planter in the adjoining county. Durham's own heart was profoundly moved by his friend's happiness and he threw into the brief preliminary addr

reaching the house, Nelse went directly to the kitchen, while the Preacher walking along the circula

stopped some of them to ask about Colonel Gaston and I thought one of them knew something and would not tell me. I brought him in and gave him dinner, and tried to coax him, but

to-night, Madam!" he an

have heard

, of heroism and knightly valour, that will be a pri

vering her face and raising her arm a

He has only told me a word or two." Nel

ssy, I'se h

ng, but always with him. And now you come alone to tell me he is dead. Lord have pity!

He walks des like Marse Charles, he talks like him, he de ve'y spit er him, en how he hez growed! He

and climbed into his mother's arms. He was a sturdy little f

in-I wants ter see you.' He talk so solemn like, I cut de banjer short, en go right er long wid him. He been er writin' en done had two letters writ. He say, 'Nelse, we gwine ter git outen dese trenches ter-morrer. It twell be my las' charge. I feel it. Ef I falls, you take my swode

Marster! He des kinder riz in de air-pear ter me like he wuz er foot taller en say to his men-' 'Bout face, en charge de line in de rear!' Wall sar, we cut er hole clean froo dem Yankees en er minute, end den bout face ergin en begin ter walk backerds er fightin' like wilecats ev'y inch. We git mos back ter de trenches, when Marse Charles drap des lak er flash! I runned up to him

er millyon mo. De Yankees wuz ev'y whar. Pear ter me lak dey riz up outer de groun'. All dat day I try ter get away fum 'em. En long 'bout night dey 'rested me e

zzi, "but I'se 'bl

fur?"

wode en watch back home to my Missus en young Mar

minute, en his eyes gin ter wate

ole Jonson's Islan' whar I mos froze ter deaf. I stay dar twell one day er fine lady what say she from Boston cum er long, en I up en tells her all erbout Marse Charles and my Missus, en how dey all waiti

and then slowly Mrs. Gaston sai

, but I gwine ter wuk for

bronzed and famous man. She had never conceived of the possibility of a world without his will and love to lean upon. The Preacher was both puzzled and alarmed

d the door, took the sword of her dead lover-husband in her lap and looked l

es fixed without seeing. At last she rose and hung the sword beside his picture near her bed and

es Near Richmo

night in camp, or marching over desolate fields. Many tender things I have never said to you I have learned in these days. I write this last message to tell you how, more and more beyond the power of words to express, your love has grown upon me, until your spirit seems the breath I breathe. My heart is so full of love for you and my boy, that

d in the new nation that will be born in this agony. I love you,-I love you

life or dea

arl

and seemed unable to move it. And then mechanically

e of my home and my people. You will live to see a reunited country. Hang this sword back beside the old flag of our fathers when the end has come, and always remember that it was never drawn from its scabbard by your father, or your grandfather who fought with Jackson at New Orleans, or your great grandfather in the Revolution, save in the cause of justice and right. I am not fighting to hold slaves in

les G

lock in the morning when a wild peal of laughter rang from her fe

th his little heart fluttering in terror he pressed his ear close to the key-hole and heard her wild ravings. How strange her voice seemed! Her voice had always been so soft and low and full of soothing music. Now it was sharp and hoarse and seemed to rasp his

out ter de barn, ketch de mare, en fly for de doctor while me

oon. He was a brave little fellow, but a fear greater than all the terrors of ghosts and the white sheeted dead with which Negro superstition had filled his ima

e right or the left. The mare whinnied

's sick. We must go f

e bridle. She seemed to know by some instinct his quivering voice had ro

ough the gate, climbed on the

w still the night! He saw shadows under the trees, shut his eyes and leaning low on the mare's neck patted her shoulders with his hands and cried, "Faster. Bessie! Faster!" And then he tried to pray. "Lord don't let her die! Please, dear God, and I will always be good. I am sorry I robbed the bird's nests last summer-

swered. He knocked again. How loud it rang through the hall! May be the doctor was gone! He had not thought of such a possibility before. He choked

ctor thrust his head out calling, "Wh

sick-she's awful sick, I'm afraid

ny, I'll be rea

days, weeks, years! To every impatient call the doc

to catch his horse. The doctor seemed

so slow! I tell y

'll soon be there," the

he reached the court house square, roused the Preacher, and between his sobs told the story of his moth

o late at night, were you not scared?" she

Dr. Durham to come as quick as you can. I'm afraid to go home. I'm afr

ht away. We will be there almost a

as passing a small deserted house he saw to his horror a ragged man peering into the open window. Befor

urlin," answ

is sh

's d

just back from the war, and he quickly added, "Folks said they had a har

it." He seemed to be talking to himself. "And d

below town. They say she's a bad woman, a

r a moment with his hands on the mare's neck and said, "You're a br

les G

n' like leaves-I wish to God I was with him now in the ground! Don't tell any

home. I'm after the doctor for my Mama,-she's very sick. I'm afraid

et you, good-bye!" When Charlie was in bed, he lay an hour with wide staring eyes, holding his breath now and then to catch the faintest sound from his mother's room. All was quiet at last