The Celina Democrat. (Celina, O. [Ohio]) 1895-1921, 1913-08-22
CHAPTER XVI.
rhe rumuIt In Human Hearts.

The Tumult In Human Hearts.
Of the frightful nights in Richmond
during the siege. that night was one
of the worst. The comparative calm
ness of the earlier hours Of repose of
the quiet April evening gave way to
pandemonium. The works at Peters
burg, desperately held by the Confed-
crates, were miles away from the city
to the southwark, but such was the
7mendous nature of the cannonading
that the shocking sounds seemed to be
close at hand. Children covered,
women shuddered, and old men prayed
as they thought of the furious on
slaughts in the battle raging.
The Richmond streets were filled
with people, mostly invalids, non-com-
patants, women and children. A tre-
mendous attack was being launched
by the besiegers somewhere, 1t was
evident. Urgent messengers from
General Lee called every reserve out
of the garrison at Richmond, and the
quiet streets and country highways
awoke instantly to life. Such troops
as could be spared moved to the front
at the double-quick. Every car of the
dilapidated railroad was pressed into
service. Those who could not be
transported by train went on horse
back or afoot. The youngest boy and
the oldest man alike shouldered their
muskets, and with motley clothes, but
with hearts aflame, marched to the
sound of the cannon. The women,
the sick, the wounded and invalid men
and the children waited.
Morning would tell the tale. Into
the city from which they marched,
men and boys would come back; an
army nearly as great as had gone
forth, but an army halting, manned.
helpless, wounded, suffering, shot to
pieces. They had seen it too often not
to be able to forecast the scene abso-
lutely. They knew with what heroic
determination their veterans, under
the great Lee, were fighting back the
terrific attacks of their brothers in
blue, under the grimly determined
Grant. They could hear his great war
hammer ringing on their anvil; a
hammer OF men, an anvil of men. Plan
or no plan, success or no success of
some secret service operations. some
vital point was being wrestled for in a
death-grapple between two armies;
and all the offensive capacities of the
one and all the defensive resources of
the other were meeting, as they had
been meeting during the long years.
In time like that, of public peril
and public need, private and personal
affairs ought to be forgotten, but it
was not so. Love and hate, confidence
and jealousy, faithfulness and disloy- !
atty, selfsacrifice and revenge, were
still in human hearts. And these feel |
1ngs would put to shame even the pas
sions engendered in the bloody battles
of the fearful warfare.
Edith Varney. for instance, had gone
out of the telegraph office assured that
the sacrifice she had made for her
lover had resulted in the betrayal of
her country; that Thorne had had not
even the common gratitude to accede
to her request, although she had saved
his life, and, for the time being, his
honor. Every cannon-shot, every crash
ing volley Of musketry that came faint
ly or loudly across the hills seemed
pointed straight at her heart. For all
she knew, the dispatch had been sent.
the cunningly devised scheme had
been carried out, and into some unde-
Tended gap in the lines the federal
troops were pouring. The defense
would crumble and the army would be
cut in two; the city of Richmond
would be taken, and the Confederacy
would be lost
And she had done it! Would she
have done it If she had known? She
had certainly expected to establish
such claim upon Thorne by her in
terposition that he could not disre-
gard 1t. But If she had known posi-.
lively that he would have done what
she thought he did, would she have
sent him to his death? She put the /
question to herself In agony. And she
realized with bushes OF shame ana I