Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1882-11-08
Gals anb Sketfkes.
IED's wosIss.
BIZ CYRIL NORTON.
Continued from yesterdsy.)

should have warned you; the more De-
csuse no subject would be so likely to
strike your notice in going for the FIRST
time through the South since our mlsfor-
tune. Let me do that duty now. What
say will probably throw light on many
things that you have seen. You have al
ready perceived the change in me. and the
greater one in Annie. She is not the girl
YOU know, nor, indeed. the sister whom
have known All her light-heartedness
and merriment have fled since our trials
came upon u.s. You did not know my
father. He was one OF the old-time South
ern chivalry-tall. almost majestic in pro-
portions, thoroughly imbued with the con-
viction that slavery was divine institu-
ton, and the master divinely appointed
BY o beneficent God for the slaves protec-
ton. My sister loved and admired him
beyond all other men; and, though her
Northern training and her munitions OF
right led her to question so sweeping a
doctrine, she followed the footsteps Of our
father. When the war broke out, he be-
came the commander of regiment. She.
Young as she was, became the leading
spirit in the organizations by which wo-
men helped the cause. Ny father passed
through the struggle CALAMITY. and with
out serious wound. until early in '65, while
Lee was making his last stand. and the
C0nfederacy was lettering he was detailed
to this region. Rashly enough, he ventur-
ed to attack detachment Of Grants army
on its way to join the main body. He
was compelled to retreat, and at last took
refuge in the stone church which you can
see from our window, and which, having
been rudely barricaded during previous
period, served as a sort of fortress. He
was overpowered, but.in spite Of the over
whelming odds. refused to surrender.
The Union forces forced their way
into the church, and the old sol.
der, unwilling to survive the cause he
had espoused, stained the chancel with
his life blood. lie Is buried in the church
yard yonder. Ny sister was inconsolable.
She has converted the church-fortress into
a shrine, to which she makes daily visit.
The negroes assert that the place is haunt
ed by their old massa's ghost, and they
will make circuit Of many miles rather
than pass the place after nightfall. But
she has no such fear she says she holds
communion with the spirit of the departed
At all events, she broods upon his death
and the downfall Of their common cause
She has no thought for anything but the
rejuvenation of the old regime. For days
principally after late visit to the grave,
she will hardly speak. and to all my
questions can get no reply. She refuses
to allow my attendance upon any of her
night excursions, though follow her at a
distance. Whenever. as on this evening,
she hears some alluson to our misfortune.
she bursts into such torrent of indigna.
ton that have fears (may God forgive
the suspicion y Il have fears of her SAM
ty. You will understand now the gloom
that has come upon us. She used to speak
very kindly of you, Ned. Perhaps you
may be able to gain her confidence and
solve this mystery. Unless it is solved,
don't know what may be her fate.'
II wrung his hand. and. assuring him
Of my aid and sympathy, retired to medi.
tate upon the revelations of the evening
smoked and thought, but the ancient
virtue seemed to have departed from the
weed no solution arose from its fumes.
However, Georges appeal to me. as one
likely to influence his sister, served to
sweeten my reflections and tinge my
dreams.
"On the following dav. Annie was moi
TO be seen. George and I went over the
plantation, and, without making any allu.
sion to the discussion of the previous even.
ing, talked of old times and old associa.
tons. Toward nightfall, asked him to
direct me to the church. He gave me q
grateful look. and put me on the way.
"A few minutes walk brought me in
sight of the ruin. Its architecture. plain
and massive. had not been improved BY
the war appliances added in the course 81
its military service. The barricade of the
windows had been partially torn away BY
shot and shell; its roof was dismantled
the surrounding trees. riddled with mis-.
siles, bent forward so as to cover its front
II was rather ruined fortress than Il
place OF worship. passed through the
building. Within all was bare. bullet.
ridden and neglected. except the chancel
where fiower-covered shrine indicated a
partial re-dedication to prayer. Beyond
the edifce WAS the church yard. and there
in seat made by the parting Of great
elm, which shaded carefully kept grave
sat Annie. in such deep meditation, that
she did not notice my presence till stood
ct her side.
"a. Is it you. Mr.. Barker ?" she said, a
little confused. i was just thinking OF
you. You will pardon my rudeness oil
last night. will YOU not ?" And she looked
up 1t me with something Of the old light
In her eyes.
..Let the matter pass from your recol-
lection. Miss Annie; should ask your
forgiveness
.sThank you.' she said simply. and gave
me her hand. which I held perhaps a
trifle longer than necessity called for.
1.-The silence continued for several mo-
ments. save by the signing OF the wind
that had sprung up as the sun dropped be-
hind the hills. At last said, You seem
troubled. Miss Annie; does anything dis
tress youP'
docs anything distress me?' she
echoed with 50 much fire and bitterness
that anticipated repetition OF the for
mer outburst does anything distress me'
Look at my face; ask my brother; ques-
ton the servants; they win shake their
heads and whisper strange stories.' Then
in milder tone added, Leave me, MIR.
Barker; do please. | am anxious that
you at least should not consider me mad
Il was half inclined to obey. but sum.
moning up courage said. DO not think
me intrusive. Miss Annie, but for yo, I
brothers sake. and for the sake of the
merry-hearted girl / used to know,
should Ike to assist you. if / could. Wi
Il l. -ssL -. a