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Read Ebook: The Southerner: A Romance of the Real Lincoln by Dixon Thomas Jr Marchand J N Illustrator

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Ebook has 303 lines and 11634 words, and 7 pages

nd was compelled to leave."

"Oh--will you pull up a chair."

The tall form dropped wearily at his desk. His voice had a far-away expression in its tones.

"And what can I do for you, sir?" he asked.

The dark head was lifted with interest:

"The brother of Ned Vaughan, who escaped from prison?"

John nodded:

"The son of Dr. Richard Vaughan, of Palmyra, Missouri."

"Then you're our boy, fighting with Grant's army--yes, I heard of you when your brother was in trouble. You've been ill, I see--wounded, of course?"

"Yes."

The President rose and took his visitor's hand, clasping it with both his own:

"There's nothing I won't do for one of our wounded boys if I can--what is it?"

He paused and leaned on the desk, trembling with excitement which had increased as he spoke.

A frown deepened the shadows in the dark, kindly face:

"And for what was he arrested?"

The President shook his head sorrowfully:

He stopped, sighed, and shook his head again:

"But come, now, my son, and put yourself in my place. What can I do? I've armed two million men and spend four millions a day to fight the South because they try to secede and disrupt the Union. My opponents in the North, taking advantage of our sorrows, harangue the people and elect a hostile legislature in Indiana, Ohio, and Illinois. They are about to pass an ordinance of secession and strike the Union in the back. If secession is wrong in the South it is surely wrong in the North. Shall I fight secession in the South and merely argue politely with it here? Instead of shooting these men, I've consented to a more merciful thing, I just let Seward and Stanton lock them up until the war is over and then I'll turn them all loose.

"Understand, my boy, I don't shirk responsibility. No Cabinet or Congress could conduct a successful war. There must be a one man power. I have been made that power by the people. I am using it reverently but firmly. And I am backed by the prayers, the good will and the confidence of the people--the silent millions whom I don't see, but love and trust.

"And you will not interfere to give these accused men a trial?" John Vaughan interrupted in hard tones.

He rose again and paced the floor, turning his back on his visitor in utter unconsciousness of the dangerous glitter in his eyes.

He paused and placed his big hand gently on John's arm:

"I know in doing this I am wielding a dangerous power--the power of kings--not because I love it, but because I must save my country. And I'm the humblest man who walks God's earth to-night!"

In spite of his bitterness, the simplicity and honesty of the President found John Vaughan's heart. No vain or cruel or selfish man could talk or feel like that. In the glow of his eager thought the ashen look of his face disappeared and it became radiant with warmth and tenderness. In dreamy, passionate tones he went on as if talking to convince himself he must not despair. The younger man for the moment was swept resistlessly on by the spell of his eloquence.

"They are always asking of me impossible things. Now that I shall remove Grant from command. I know that his battles have been bloody. Yet how else can we win? The gallant, desperate South has only a handful of men, ragged and half starved, yet they are standing against a million and I have exhaustless millions behind these. With Lee they seem invincible and every move of his ragged men sends a shiver of horror and of admiration through the North. Yet, if Grant fights on he must win. He will wear Lee out--and that is the only way he can beat him.

"Besides, his plan is bigger than the single campaign against Richmond. There's a grim figure at the head of a hundred thousand men fighting his way inch by inch toward Atlanta. If Sherman should win and take Atlanta, Lee's army will starve and the end is sure. I can't listen to this clamor. I will not remove Grant--though I've reasons for believing at this moment that he may vote for McClellan for President.

"Don't think, my son, that all this blood and suffering is not mine. It is. Every shell that screams from those big guns crashes through my heart. The groans of the wounded, the sighs of the dying, the tears of widows and orphans, of sisters and mothers--all--blue and grey--they are mine. I see and hear it all, feel all, suffer all.

"No man who lives to-day is responsible for this war. I could not have prevented it, nor could Jefferson Davis. We are in the grip of mighty forces sweeping on from the centuries. We are fighting the battle of the ages.

"But our country's worth it if we can only save it. Out of this agony and tears will be born a united people. We have always been cursed with the impossible contradiction of negro slavery.

"There has never been a real Democracy in the world because there has never been one without the shadow of slavery. We must build here a real government of the people, by the people, for the people. It's not a question merely of the fate of four millions of black slaves. It's a question of the destiny of millions of freemen. I hear the tread of coming generations of their children on this continent. Their destiny is in your hand and mine--a free Nation without a slave--the hope, refuge and inspiration of the world.

"This Union that we must save will be a beacon light on the shores of time for mankind. It will be worth all the blood and all the tears we shall give for it. The grandeur of our sacrifice will be the birthright of our children's children. It will be the end of sectionalism. We can never again curse and revile one another, as we have in the past. We've written our character in blood for all time. We've met in battle. The Northern man knows the Southerner is not a braggart. The Southerner knows the Yankee is not a coward.

He paused and drew a deep breath:

"Why do you say that?" John asked sharply.

"Refused?" John gasped.

"Yes."

The younger man gazed at the haggard face for a moment through dimmed eyes, sank slowly to a seat and covered his face in his hands in a cry of despair!

The reaction was complete and his collapse utter.

The President gazed at the bent figure with sorrowful amazement, and touched his head gently with the big friendly hand:

"Why, what's the matter, my boy? I'm the only man to despair. You're just a captain in the army. If to be the head of hell is as hard as what I've had to undergo here I could find it in my heart to pity Satan himself. And if there's a man out of hell who suffers more than I do, I pity him. But it's my burden and I try to bear it. I wish I had only yours!"

John Vaughan sprang to his feet and threw his hands above his head in a gesture of anguish:

"O my God, you don't understand!"

He quickly crossed the space that separated them and faced the President with grim determination:

He paused, but the sombre eyes gave no sign--they seemed to be gazing on the shores of eternity.

"And I came here to-night for that purpose--my men are in that hall now!"

He stopped and folded his hands deliberately, waiting for his judge to speak.

A long silence fell between them. The tall, sorrowful man was looking at him with a curious expression of wonder and self pity.

"So you came here to-night to kill me?"

"Yes."

Again a long silence--the deep eyes looking, looking with their strange questioning gaze.

"Well," the younger man burst out at last, "what is my fate? I deserve it. Even generosity and gentleness have their limit. I've passed it. And I've no desire to escape."

The kindly hand was lifted to John Vaughan's shoulder:

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