When Ben Cameron failed to find either Elsie or her father at home, he hurried to the hotel, walking under the shadows of the trees to avoid recognition, though his resemblance to Phil would have enabled him to pass in his hat and coat unchallenged by any save the keenest observers.

He found his mother’s bedroom door ajar and saw Elsie within, sobbing in her arms. He paused, watched, and listened.

Never had he seen his mother so beautiful—her face calm, intelligent, and vital, crowned with a halo of gray. She stood, flushed and dignified, softly smoothing the golden hair of the sobbing girl whom she had learned to love as her daughter. Her whole being reflected the years of homage she had inspired in husband, children, and neighbours. What a woman! She had made war inevitable, fought it to the bitter end; and in the despair of a negro reign of terror, still the prophetess and high priestess of a people, serene, undismayed, and defiant, she had fitted the uniform of a Grand Dragon on her last son, and sewed in secret day and night to equip his men. And through it all she was without affectation, her sweet motherly ways, gentle manner and bearing always resistless to those who came within her influence. 363

“If he dies,” cried the tearful voice, “I shall never forgive myself for not surrendering without reserve and fighting his battles with him!”

“He is not dead yet,” was the mother’s firm answer. “Doctor Cameron is on Queen’s back. Your lover’s men will be riding to-night—these young dare-devil Knights of the South, with their life in their hands, a song on their lips, and the scorn of death in their souls!”

“Then I’ll ride with them,” cried the girl, suddenly lifting her head.

Ben stepped into the room, and with a cry of joy Elsie sprang into his arms. The mother stood silent until their lips met in the long tender kiss of the last surrender of perfect love.

“How did you escape so soon?” she asked quietly, while Elsie’s head still lay on his breast.

“Phil shot the brute, and I rushed him out of town. He heard the news, returned on the special, took my place, and sent me for his father. The guard has been changed and it’s impossible to see him, or communicate with the new Commandant——”

Elsie started and turned pale.

“And father has hidden to avoid me—merciful God—if Phil is executed——”

“He isn’t dead yet, either,” said Ben, slipping his arm around her. “But we must save him without a clash or a drop of bloodshed, if possible. The fate of our people may hang on this. A battle with United States troops now might mean ruin for the South——” 364

“But you will save him?” Elsie pleaded, looking into his face.

“Yes—or I’ll go down with him,” was the steady answer.

“Where is Margaret?” he asked.

“Gone to McAllister’s with a message from your father,” Mrs. Cameron replied,

“Tell her when she returns to keep a steady nerve. I’ll save Phil. Send her to find her father. Tell him to hold five hundred men ready for action in the woods by the river and the rest in reserve two miles out of town——”

“May I go with her?” Elsie asked eagerly.

“No. I may need you,” he said. “I am going to find the old statesman now, if I have to drag the bottomless pit. Wait here until I return.”

Ben reached the telegraph office unobserved, called the operator at Columbia, and got the Grand Giant of the county into the office. Within an hour he learned that the death warrant had been received and approved. It would be returned by a messenger to Piedmont on the morning train. He learned also that any appeal for a stay must be made through the Honourable Austin Stoneman, the secret representative of the Government clothed with this special power. The execution had been ordered the day of the election, to prevent the concentration of any large force bent on rescue.

“The old fox!” Ben muttered.

From the Grand Giant at Spartanburg he learned, after a delay of three hours, that Stoneman had left with a boy in a buggy, which he had hired for three days, and refused 365 to tell his destination. He promised to follow and locate him as quickly as possible.

It was the afternoon on the day following, during the progress of the election, before Ben received the message from Spartanburg that Stoneman had been found at the Old Red Tavern where the roads crossed from Piedmont to Hambright. It was only twelve miles away, just over the line on the North Carolina side.

He walked with Margaret to the block where Queen stood saddled, watching with pride the quiet air of self-control with which she bore herself.

“Now, my sister, you know the way to the tavern. Ride for your sweetheart’s life. Bring the old man here by five o’clock, and we’ll save Phil without a fight. Keep your nerve. The Commandant knows a regiment of mine is lying in the woods, and he’s trying to slip out of town with his prisoner. I’ll stand by my men ready for a battle at a moment’s notice, but for God’s sake get here in time to prevent it.&r............