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By Root 1839 0

unbiased observer, and it was widely expected that President Pierce would try to institute military law, enrolling all Missourians who cared to join in some sort of military policing arm that would have the privilege, the right, and the duty to destroy the G— d— abolitionists once and for all. Since it was an election year, the only discussion revolved around whether the outgoing President’s party would have the stomach to support him in this most necessary course of action. As the executive arm of the government, he could do it on his own, but would he? There was talk around Papa’s table of sending a delegation of the area’s best men to advise the President on how to deal with the lily-livered members of his own party, who wouldn’t do what had to be done even though it was plain as the nose on your face. Did anyone, north or south, want the abolitionists in power? No. Would they get there? As sure as ice melts in the spring. Could they be stopped? (Fists slam down on the table.) Got to be! There was some discussion about how the abolitionists had gotten to be so prominent all of a sudden. Every man at the table could remember a time when the criminals blackguards scoundrels traitors swine pardon my language ma’am were only laughed at. No one ever agreed with them five years ago, a year ago, six months ago. It was one of the great mysteries of history how they’d scrambled up from the bottom like that.

"Well, they got in all them Germans that come over here after that revolution they had there. Them German boys got ideas of their own, d— ’em," said one.

"They hate the Germans. They hate the Irish, too. Only love niggers. You know why—it’s twisted."

Looks, then pardoning in front of the ladies. Helen turning red. Me looking at my plate.

"The question is how they got in with the Washington men."

"There’s a set of scoundrels to begin with. Lining their own pockets with both hands, don’t care where it comes from."

"Money’s at the bottom of it."

"Thayer’s cellar is stacked with gold ingots. Where do you think he got ’em?"

"Pandering to others with a fondness for dark meat? Haw haw!"

"Sir!"

"Perhaps if the ladies are finished, they might excuse themselves, so that the gentlemen can speak freely."

We blushed our way out of the room, Helen giving me a significant look, half plea, half I-told-you-so. Each day, the talk got rougher, more violent, less softened by habitual good manners.

But mostly I kept to my room, trying to avoid Papa. On Saturday night, I went in to Helen and begged off the next day’s scheme of church, followed by a party at the Harrises’. Helen smiled and gave me no protest, even though she’d been telling me for days how pleasant it was there, how delightful the victuals would be, how much I would enjoy Mrs. Harris and her sister. I knew right then that Papa had spoken to her of his offer, and I was tempted to let an intimation or two drop of my real intentions, only out of fondness for Helen, only so that she wouldn’t feel that I had thought nothing of her and her kindness and good nature when I fled. But I dared not. I smiled back at her, as if we shared some knowledge and everything might easily turn out as she expected. After that, I went back to my own chamber and changed into my nightdress. I sat there for a minute, then got into bed and blew out my candle. I knew I had done so, because after blowing it out, I lay in the dark for quite a time. Even so, before I awakened, I sensed a candle in the room, a blur of light pressing on my heavy lids. But there was no sound. I came around ever so slowly, and as I opened my eyes, the candle went out, another mystery. I must have groaned, because a hand was instantly over my mouth, a dry, strong, firm hand. Lorna’s hand. She whispered, "Hush now! I got somethin’ to say to ya!"

I sat up. She took her hand away. She was leaning toward me in the dark, sitting in the same chair she had occupied when she was watching over me, wearing the same faded dress that seemed to float in the darkness, a white kerchief around her head.

"Missy Louisa! I knows you! I do!