Brother Against Brother; or, The Tompkins Mystery.

by John R. Musick

  CHAPTER XXXI.

  THE RECONCILIATION.

  The large clock in the hall chimed out the midnight hour as Abnerfinished reading the manuscript. He sat for a long time reflecting onwhat he had read. The great family mystery, and with it many othermysteries, was now cleared up, and like many other things, seeminglyinexplicable until fully explained, it seemed so simple and so plainthat he wondered he had not guessed it before. Irene was really his owncousin, and poor Crazy Joe was her brother.

  Late as it was, he copied the confession in full, intending, when hereached New Orleans, to send it to his father. He did mail it, butafterward learned that it never got through.

  The next day the entire force, with all the prisoners, re-crossed thelake and went to New Orleans. Olivia, at her earnest request,accompanied her father. On reaching the city, they were allowed tooccupy their own residence, and one would scarcely have thought thatColonel Mortimer was a prisoner, so little was his freedom curtailed.

  The long Summer of 1864 passed, and Abner's regiment still remained inNew Orleans. But when Sherman had almost completed his devastating raidthrough the South Atlantic States--many of which, South Carolinaespecially, still bear traces of its march--Abner was ordered to jointhe army of the Potomac, then about to invest Richmond.

  On the evening before his departure, Abner sat in the parlor of ColonelMortimer, with Olivia by his side. "To-morrow," he said, "I must leaveyou; but I leave you now, feeling more hopeful than when we last talkedof parting. Victory will soon crown our arms, and when Spring opens thenext campaign, it will witness the surrender of General Lee and all theConfederate armies. Then, when the angel of peace shall have spread itswhite wings over this land, I shall return to claim you for my wife."

  "Do you forget, when you speak so confidently of your victories," saidOlivia, sweetly and sadly, "that you speak of our defeat? With all mylove for you, I must remain a Southern girl, and the cause of the Southis my cause. I love my sunny South, and I feel as all Southern peoplefeel."

  "My darling, I am sure that every true Northern man and woman willregard this unhappy war as a family quarrel, and victory something to bethankful for, but nothing to gloat over. May we not rejoice together,when peace shall come, when the iron heel of martial law shall beremoved from your city? Then I shall be free to claim you. Will youremain in this city until I shall come for you?"

  "But have you asked papa about that?" she asked, smiles brimming overher beautiful eyes. "I don't believe that he will give me up."

  "That's all attended to."

  "And does he consent?"

  "Rather reluctantly, but he consents, nevertheless," replied Abner.

  "Yes," said the old colonel, entering the room, "I could do no better,seeing I was his prisoner."

  The next day, Abner, with his regiment, steamed down the river towardthe Gulf. The steamer passed through the Florida Straits, and after avery rough voyage, which was the one event of the war that did notremind Corporal Grimm of any one of his experiences with GeneralPreston, they landed on the coast of South Carolina, and thence setacross the country to join General Sherman. They came up with him atColumbia, the capital, on the 18th of February, 1865, the day after itscapture, and Sherman at once started for North Carolina, enteringFayetteville, March 11, 1865. Abner was at Raleigh, the capital of NorthCarolina, when the final crisis came. Lee's army surrendered April 9,1885--Oleah Tompkins, Colonel Scrabble, Seth Williams and Howard Joneswith the rest. Raleigh was taken April 13th; Mobile and Salisbury, N.C., on the same day. The Confederacy was conquered, the war was over,and all good people rejoiced in the prospect of peace. But a wail wentout over the Nation at the news of the assassination of Abraham Lincoln.

  Abner's regiment was ordered to Washington, to pass the grand review andbe mustered out. The grandest army the world ever knew passed downPennsylvania avenue on the review.

  Cheerful news had come from home. Old Mr. Tompkins was rejoicing thatpeace had come to the country, and that he might return to his home.

  On the evening of his discharge, Abner was, with his fellow-officers,making arrangements for the next day, when a messenger entered with atelegram addressed to him. He took the message and opened it. Itcontained the brief sentence:

  "_Your father is dead._"

  No more horror can be crowded into four words. The color left the youngman's cheek as he leaned against the table for support. His associates,learning his bad news, considerately left him alone. Abner was almoststunned with grief. Now that he was so near home, after a separation ofthree long years, it seemed too cruel for belief. There was nothing todetain him, and he started by the first train for the Junction. As hewas borne swiftly homeward, his thoughts dwelt sadly on the father whomhe should never meet again on earth. He never knew before how deeply hehad loved him. His every word to him, when he was a child, his fondcaresses, and his kind, fatherly indulgence came to his mind. As theiron wheels roared on, he read the telegram over and over again, butcould gain no information from it. It contained simply those four briefwords, and no more.

  The Junction was reached at last, and he saw the family carriage therewith the old coachman waiting. The old carriage had lost its statelysplendor; it was faded, dilapidated and worn. He hastened to Job, halfhoping he might find the telegram a mistake, but Job confirmed it. Hisfather had died suddenly two days before, but the funeral had not takenplace yet; they were waiting for him. He had died of heart disease, andhad dropped dead from his favorite chair in the lawn. Abner stepped in,and Job drove off, the carriage rattling and creaking, and the fadedskirts flapping noisily on the side.

  From Job he learned that most of the negroes had left the oldplantation, since the war had brought them freedom, that the place wasgreatly changed since the last time he had seen it. The houses weredilapidated and many of the fences down. It was late in the night beforehe reached the home of his childhood; but, dark as it was, he could seethe sad change that time and neglect had made on the dear old place.

  In the hall his mother met him, weeping and calling him her dear son,and begging him never to leave her again--a promise which he readilymade. Irene also was there to greet her long-lost brother.

  It was not until the third day after the funeral that Abner told hismother and Irene of Yellow Steve's confession. They had not received thecopy he had sent, and listened to him with wonder and sorrow that thenews came too late to benefit Crazy Joe or to relieve the mind of Mr.Tompkins. Then he told his mother of Olivia, and it was decided that heshould start the next day to bring home his bride. New Orleans, at thistime, was not a pleasant or an altogether safe place of residence; hencehis haste.

  He went that evening alone to the grave of his father. The young leaveswere green on the trees, the flowers of Spring in full bloom, and birdswere singing in lofty boughs.

  It was growing late as he approached the grave. Just before reaching it,he paused and looked in astonishment. A man, dressed in faded gray, withone arm in a sling and a bandage around his head, stood by the freshmound. His once fierce black eyes are misty now with tears.

  What a tempest of emotion swept over Abner's soul as he recognized inthat travel-stained, wounded man his only brother! He went toward himwith outstretched arms and cried: "Brother!"

  Oleah looked up, and with an exclamation, half joy and half sorrow, wasclasped, over his father's grave, in the arms of that brother, from whomhe had so long been estranged.

  Abner and Oleah were reconciled.

  * * * * *

  It is twelve months later, and the old Tompkins mansion has recoveredsome of its ancient splendor. The fences have been rebuilt, thelong-neglected trees pruned, the doors are on the barn again, and thelaborers' houses repaired.

  A merry crowd of our old friends are gathered at the mansion and just inthe act of sitting down to a dinner, given by Mrs. Tompkins in honor ofher oldest son's wedding, which took place a week before at NewOrleans. Many of our old friends are seated around that table. There isHoward
Jones, with a scar of a saber cut on his face, but merry as ever.By his side sits Seth Williams, with an armless sleeve dangling at hisside, but the same jolly Seth as of yore. Our friends of both armies aremet here, though all have laid aside their uniforms and appear incitizen's garb. Corporal Grimm is as anxious as ever to relate toeverybody his experience with "General Preston," and Sergeant Swords isready to second Grimm in any thing. Colonel Mortimer is there, erect andsoldier-like, and our friend Diggs also, a representative of bothparties. The little fellow is dressed with the utmost care, his shirtfront and high collar aggressively stiff, and his glasses on his round,silly face. He confides to every one that he has tired of the patentmedicines and photography, and that he intends to start a countrynewspaper, which eventually shall startle the world.

  There are the brothers, Abner and Oleah, with all their old brotherlyaffection renewed, and Irene and Olivia, types of the two classes ofbeauty. It has been arranged that Oleah and Irene are to live on herfather's plantation in North Carolina, while Abner and Olivia remain onthe old homestead.

  The good minister, whose saving prayer had proved so effective in Diggs'case, is seated at the head of the table. Mrs. Tompkins, in widow'sweeds, is at the foot. She has lost her brilliant beauty and herpolitical ambition; she thinks that the happiness of the world dependson domestic peace, and that this can be secured only by perfectunanimity of feeling between husband and wife.

  Olivia Tompkins is happy in the love of husband and father and hernew-born babe, and she has come to the same conclusion.

  To see the happy mingling and general good feeling of those who wore thegray and those who wore the blue, it is hard to think they once wereenemies. We had almost forgotten Uncle Dan, who has retired to his cabinon the Twin Mountains, but he is with the others, always the same UncleDan, whether hunter, scout, or wedding guest. They sit at the commontable--the soldier of the North and the soldier of the South--as thoughthey were, as they are, of one family.

  Dear reader, we have written late into the night, and now, as the facesof these friends, whom we have followed so long and learned to love sowell, fade from our sight among the shadows, let us rejoice that thetime has come, when this great Nation, North and South, is united oncemore in the firmest bonds of friendship--one brotherhood.

  [THE END]

  OUT OF THE MIRE,

  many a family has been raised by the genuine philanthropy of modernprogress, and of modern opportunities. But many people do not avail ofthem. They jog along in their old ways until they are stuck fast in amire of hopeless dirt. Friends desert them, for they have alreadydeserted themselves by neglecting their own best interests. Out of thedirt of kitchen, or hall, or parlor, any house can be quickly brought bythe use of Sapolio, which is sold by all grocers.