by Thomas Dixon
CHAPTER X
TOSSED BY THE STORM
As the storm of passion raised by the clash between her father and thePresident rose steadily to the sweep of a cyclone, Elsie felt her own lifebut a leaf driven before its fury.
Her only comfort she found in Phil, whose letters to her were full of lovefor Margaret. He asked Elsie a thousand foolish questions about what shethought of his chances.
To her own confessions he was all sympathy.
"Of father's wild scheme of vengeance against the South," he wrote, "I amheartsick. I hate it on principle, to say nothing of a girl I know. I amwith General Grant for peace and reconciliation. What does your loverthink of it all? I can feel your anguish. The bill to rob the Southernpeople of their land, which I hear is pending, would send your sweetheartand mine, our enemies, into beggared exile. What will happen in the South?Riot and bloodshed, of course--perhaps a guerilla war of such fierce andterrible cruelty humanity sickens at the thought. I fear the Rebellionunhinged our father's reason on some things. He was too old to go to thefront; the cannon's breath would have cleared the air and sweetened histemper. But its healing was denied. I believe the tawny leopardess whokeeps his house influences him in this cruel madness. I could wring herneck with exquisite pleasure. Why he allows her to stay and cloud his lifewith her she-devil temper and fog his name with vulgar gossip is beyondme."
Seated in the park on the Capitol hill the day after her father hadintroduced his Confiscation Bill in the House, pending the impeachment ofthe President, she again attempted to draw Ben out as to his feelings onpolitics.
She waited in sickening fear and bristling pride for the first burst ofhis anger which would mean their separation.
"How do I feel?" he asked. "Don't feel at all. The surrender of GeneralLee was an event so stunning, my mind has not yet staggered past it.Nothing much can happen after that, so it don't matter."
"Negro suffrage don't matter?"
"No. We can manage the negro," he said calmly.
"With thousands of your own people disfranchised?"
"The negroes will vote with us, as they worked for us during the war. Ifthey give them the ballot, they'll wish they hadn't."
Ben looked at her tenderly, bent near, and whispered:
"Don't waste your sweet breath talking about such things. My politics isbounded on the North by a pair of amber eyes, on the South by a dimpledlittle chin, on the East and West by a rosy cheek. Words do not frame itsspeech. Its language is a mere sign, a pressure of the lips--yet itthrills body and soul beyond all words."
Elsie leaned closer, and looking at the Capitol, said wistfully:
"I don't believe you know anything that goes on in that big marblebuilding."
"Yes, I do."
"What happened there yesterday?"
"You honoured it by putting your beautiful feet on its steps. I saw thewhole huge pile of cold marble suddenly glow with warm sunlight and flashwith beauty as you entered it."
The girl nestled still closer to his side, feeling her utter helplessnessin the rapids of the Niagara through which they were being whirled byblind and merciless forces. For the moment she forgot all fears in hisnearness and the sweet pressure of his hand.
