Maurice Leblanc - "The Hollow Needle"

John Lothrop Motley - "History of the United Netherlands, 1584 85"

Chamisso et. al. - "Peter Schlemihl etc."

Ella Wheeler Wilcox - "Maurine and Other Poems"

New Philadelphia Book Publisher Highlights Local Talent
Book and Publishing News from Publishers Newswire(tm)

Looking for Child to be on Cover of a New Book, 'The Model Child'
PHILADELPHIA, Pa. -- The Philadelphia literary world will celebrate the launch of two new players today, April 10th: Kay Square Press, a new publishing company focused on Philadelphia-area artists, their stories, and their art; and Kay Square's first release, 'With the Rich and Mighty: Emlen Etting of Philadelphia' (ISBN: 978-0-9815129-0-7), a critical biography by Kenneth C. Kaleta.

FlatSigned Press Alleges Don Imus Remarks Damage Legacy of President Gerald R. Ford
NEW YORK, N.Y. -- Nathan Yungerberg, an accomplished model scout and professional child photographer is launching a nation-wide casting call to find the cover model for his highly anticipated book release, 'The Model Child: A Parents Guide to the Child Modeling Industry' (ISBN: 978-0-9817018-0-6).

Books: Miss Lou

E >> E. P. Roe >> Miss Lou




"This is absurd talk," she cried, and rushed to the house. In the
upper hall she encountered her aunt engaged in superintending a
general dusting and polishing of the old-fashioned furniture.

"What is the meaning of this wild talk of Cousin Madison?" the girl
asked, breathlessly.

"I've heard no wild talk," was the cool response.

"Well, come into my room and hear it, then."

Mrs. Baron reluctantly followed, rather aggrieved that she must bear
the first brunt of the storm.

"What are you putting the house in such wonderful order for?" asked
Miss Lou, with flashing eyes. "What do all these preparations mean?
What is Aunt Whately coming here for this evening?"

"It is very natural she should wish to be present at her son's
wedding," was the quiet and exasperating answer.

"When is this wedding to be?" was the next query, accompanied by a
harsh laugh.

"I think we can be ready by to-morrow evening."

"Are you a woman, that you can thus try to sacrifice the motherless
girl committed to your charge?"

"So far from sacrificing you, I am trying to further your best
interests, and at the same time carrying out the wishes of my
husband and your guardian. These are solemn times, in which you need
every safeguard and protection. We should be faithless, indeed, to
our trust did we not give a brave soldier the best right in the
world to shield and care for you."

"Bah!" cried the girl, now almost furious. "Where's uncle?"

"In his office, I suppose."

Whately had preceded her thither, and had already made known to Mr.
Baron the nature of his interview with his cousin, adding: "Our best
policy will be just to take our course as a matter of course, in a
genial, friendly way. We certainly are the girl's best friends, and
it won't be long before she acknowledges the fact. All we do is to
secure her safety, welfare and happiness. She will be as skittish as
a blooded filly over it all at first--a feature in the case which
only increases my admiration and affection. She doesn't and can't
realize the need of the step, how it's best for all concerned in
general and herself in particular. The thing to do, therefore, is to
go right straight along. Mother will be here this evening, and will
do much toward talking her into it. Lou's anger and revolt will
probably be well over by to-morrow, and all--"

Further predictions were interrupted by the swift entrance of the
girl. She stood still a moment and regarded the two men in silent
scorn. "So you are plotting?" she said at last.

"Oh, dear, no, sweet coz. Nothing is more foreign to my nature than
plotting. I am a man of action."

"If your words have any truth or meaning, you are bent on very
dishonorable action."

"Far from it. I shall have the sanction of both Church and State."

"This, then, is the boasted Southern chivalry of which I have heard
so much."

"It has been knightly in all times to protect and rescue lovely
woman."

"I need no protection, except against you. Please leave the room. I
wish to speak to uncle."

He attempted to kiss her hand as he passed out, but she snatched it
away. "Uncle," she said, coming directly to him, "can it be that you
sanction anything so wicked as this? It seems as if you and aunt
were permitting my cousin to put upon me a cruel practical joke."

"Ahem! Your very words, Louise, prove how unfit you are to judge and
act in accordance with this emergency. You even dream that we are in
a mood for jesting at this time, when our days and even hours may be
numbered. No, indeed. I am resolved to unite with my protection all
the power and dignity vested in a Confederate officer."

"In other words, to shield me against some possible danger you will
try to inflict on me the worst thing that could happen."

"Hoity-toity! Is an honorable marriage which has always been
contemplated the worst that could happen? If we are driven forth by
hordes of Northern vandals, you would think it the best thing that
had happened."

"I don't fear these Northern vandals. I have"--and then she checked
herself in time.

"You don't fear them! Why, Louise, every word you speak makes it
more imperative that I should act for one so utterly inexperienced
and ignorant."

"Do you actually mean to say that you will try to marry me against
my will?"

"Certainly, against your present will. Do you suppose that I can be
guided in my solemn trust by your petulance, your ignorant notions
of life, and your almost childish passion? In France, the most
civilized country in the world, parents and guardians arrange these
affairs as a matter of course, and with the best results. It is the
general method all over the world. Far more than mere family and
pecuniary interests are concerned in this instance. We are giving
you a protector in the time of your deepest need."

"How could Lieutenant Whately protect me if the Yankees should come
in numbers?"

"In more ways than you can imagine. Moreover, he would probably be
permitted to escort you and your mother to a place of safety. You
would have his name, and the name of a Confederate officer would
always entitle you to respect."

"Oh, this is dreadful!" cried the girl, bewildered and almost
paralyzed by the old man's inexorable words and manner. So
unsophisticated was she, so accustomed to be governed, that the
impression was strong that she could be controlled even in this
supreme crisis.

She rushed into the parlor, where her cousin was striding up and
down in a whirl of the glad excitement so congenial to his spirit.
"Cousin Madison," she exclaimed, "I know you are hasty and
impetuous, but generous impulses should go with such a nature. You
surely will not use your advantage against an orphan girl?"

"No, indeed, dear coz, not against, but for you. I love you too well
to leave you to the chances of war."

"Oh, but this is the certainty of evil. You know I do not love you.
If you would wait--if you would give me time to think it all over--"

"Why, so you shall when I've escorted you and mother to some place
where none can molest or make you afraid."

"Escort me, then, as I am, under your mother's care. Truly this
would be a better way to win my heart than such hasty violence to
all my feelings and wishes."

"My dear Louise, you may think me a hasty, inconsiderate wooer to-
day, but that is because you do not know all that I know. I must,
like your guardians, be guided by your best welfare. When you learn
to know me as a kind, loyal, considerate husband, you will
appreciate my most friendly and decisive action at this time. You
are in great danger; you may soon be homeless. In the case of one so
young and fair as you are, those who love you, as you know I do
passionately, must act, not in accordance with your passing mood,
but in a way to secure your peace and honor for all time."

"Oh, this is all a terrible dream! You can--you can protect me as
your cousin, should I need any such protection, which I cannot
believe. Northern soldiers are not savages. I know it! I know it!"

"How can you know it? Have I not seen more of them than you have? I
tell you that for the honor of our house I shall and will give you
the protection of my name at once. Your uncle and aunt feel as
strongly as I do about it, and your happiness will be the only
result. We Southern people take no chances in these matters."

Overwhelmed, frightened, bewildered, the girl left the room and
mournfully climbed to her own apartment. She was too utterly
absorbed in her own desperate plight to observe Zany whisking away
in the background.




CHAPTER VII

DANGERS THICKENING


Mr. Baron was scarcely less miserable than his ward, yet from wholly
different causes. His anxieties concerning her were deep indeed, his
very solicitude impelling him toward the plan which he was eager to
consummate. He was distracted by fears and forebodings of every kind
of evil; he was striving to fortify his mind against the dire
misgiving that the Confederacy was in a very bad way, and that a
general breaking up might take place. Indeed his mental condition
was not far removed from that of a man who dreads lest the hitherto
immutable laws of nature are about to end in an inconceivable state
of chaos. What would happen if the old order of things passed away
and the abominable abolitionists obtained fall control? He felt as
if the door of Dante's Inferno might be thrown wide at any moment.
There was no elasticity in his nature, enabling him to cope with
threatening possibilities; no such firmness and fortitude of soul as
he might be required to exercise within the next few hours. To start
with, he was wretched and distracted by the breaking up of the
methodical monotony of his life and household affairs. Since general
wreck and ruin might soon ensue, he had the impulses of those who
try to secure and save what is most valuable and to do at once what
seems vitally important. Amid all this confusion and excitement of
mind his dominant trait of persistence asserted itself. He would
continue trying to the last to carry out the cherished schemes and
purposes of his life; he would not stultify himself by changing his
principles, or even the daily routine of his life, as far as he
could help himself. If events over which he had no control hastened
action, such action should be in harmony with previous purpose to
the extent of his power. The plan, therefore, of marrying his niece
immediately to her cousin doubly commended itself to him. It would
throw around her additional safeguards and relieve him in part from
a heavy responsibility; it would also consummate one of the
cherished intentions of his life. Things might take a happy turn for
the better, and then just so much would be gained and accomplished.

Thus he reasoned, and his nephew spared no pains in confirming his
views. The truth urged by his niece that she did not love her cousin
seemed a small matter to the unemotional, legal mind of the old man
when safety and solid interests were concerned. "A child like
Louise," he said, "must be taken care of, not humored." Mrs. Baron
had long since formed the habit of yielding complete deference to
her husband, and now was sincerely in accord with his views. She had
never had much heart; her marriage had satisfied her ambition, had
been pleasing to her kith and kin, and she saw no good reason why
her niece should not, under any circumstances, form a similar union.
That the girl should revolt now, in the face of such urgent
necessity, was mere perverseness. Sharing in her husband's anxieties
and fears, she found solace and diversion of mind in her beloved
housekeeping. Neither of the old people had the imagination or
experience which could enable them to understand the terror and
distress of their niece, whom with good intentions they were driving
toward a hated union.

Dinner was served two hours later than usual--a fact in itself very
disturbing to Mr. Baron; while Aun' Suke, compelled to cook again
for the Confederate troopers, was in a state of suppressed
irritation, leading her satellites to fear that she might explode.
Small, pale and bloodless as "ole miss" appeared, none of her
domestics dared to rebel openly; but if any little darky came within
the reach of Aun' Suke's wooden spoon, she relieved her feelings
promptly. In dining-room and kitchen, therefore, was seething and
repressed excitement. The very air was electric and charged with
rumors.

Perkins, the overseer, was at his wits' end, also, about the field-
hands. They were impassive or sullen before his face, and abounding
in whispers and significant glances behind his back. What they knew,
how much they knew, he could not discover by any ingenuity of
questioning or threatening, and he was made to feel that excessive
harshness might lead to serious trouble. Disturbing elements were on
all sides, in the air, everywhere, yet he could not lay his finger
on any particular culprit.

Of all the slaves on the plantation, Chunk appeared the most docile
and ready to oblige every one. He waited on the Confederate troopers
with alacrity, and grinned at their chaffing with unflagging good-
nature. In all the little community, which included an anxious Union
scout, Chunk was about the most serene and even-pulsed individual.
Nature had endowed him with more muscle than nerves, more shrewdness
than intellect, and had quite left out the elements of fear and
imagination. He lived intensely in the present; excitement and
bustle were congenial conditions, and his soul exulted in the
prospect of freedom. Moreover, the fact that he had proved himself
to Zany to be no longer a mere object for ridicule added not a
little to his elation. Shrewd as himself, she was true to her word
of keeping an eye on him, and she was compelled to see that he was
acting his part well.

Miss Lou positively refused to come down to dinner. She had buried
her face in her pillow, and was almost crying her eyes out; for in
the confusion of her mind, resulting from her training and
inexperience, she feared that if all her kin insisted on her
marriage, and gave such reasons as had been urged upon her, she must
be married. She was sorely perplexed. Could the Yankees be such
ravening wolves as her uncle and cousin represented them to be?
Certainly one was not, but then he might be different from the
others because he had been to college and was educated.

"He said he would be glad to do me any kindness," she sobbed. "Oh,
if he could only prevent this marriage! Yet what can he do? I could
not even speak to a stranger of my trouble, much less to a Northern
soldier. I wish I could see my old mammy. She's the only one who in
the least understands me and feels a little like a mother toward me.
Oh, what a dreadful thing to be a motherless girl at such a time!"

The powers below stairs concluded that it would be best to leave
Miss Lou to herself for a time, that she might think over and become
reconciled to the need and reasonableness of their action, but Mrs.
Baron considerately sent up her dinner by Zany. The unhappy girl
shook her head and motioned the tray away.

"Hi, now, Miss Lou, w'at you tookin on so fer?" asked the diplomatic
Zany.

"For more than you can understand."

"I un'erstan's a heap mo'n you tink," said Zany, throwing off all
disguise in her strong sympathy. "Marse Whately des set out ter
mar'y you, ez ef you wuz a post dat cud be stood up en mar'd to
enybody at eny time. Hi! Miss Lou, I'se bettah off dan you, fer I
kin pick en choose my ole man."

"Everybody in the world is better off than I am."

"I wudn't stan' it, Miss Lou. I sut'ny wudn't. I'd runned away."

"How could I run away? Where could I go to?"

"See yere, Miss Lou," and Zany sank her voice to a whisper, "dere's
a Linkum man"--

"Hush! how did you know that?"

"Chunk en me's fren's. Don' be 'feard, fer I'd like ter see de gyurl
dat kin beat me playin' possum. Dat Linkum man he'p you ter run
away."

"For shame, Zany! The idea of my going away with a stranger!"

"'Pears to me I'se rudder runned away wid one man dan hab anoder man
runned away wid me."

"Don't ever speak to me of such a thing again."

"Well, den, Miss Lou, de niggahs on dis plantashon des lub you, en
dey ain' hankerin' arter Marse Whately. Ef you say de wud, I des
belebe dey riz right up again dis mar'age."

"Oh, horrible!" said the girl, in whose mind had been instilled the
strong and general dread of a negro insurrection. "There, Zany, you
and Chunk mean kindly, but neither you nor any one can help me. If
either does or says anything to make a disturbance I'll never
forgive you. My cousin and the men with him would kill you all. I'd
rather be left alone, for I must think what to do."

"I ain' sayin' not'n, Miss Lou, sence dat yo' 'quest, but doan you
gib up," and Zany took her departure, resolving to have a conference
with Chunk at the earliest possible moment.

The impossible remedies suggested by Zany depressed Miss Lou all the
more, for they increased her impression of the hopeless character of
her position. She felt that she was being swept forward by
circumstances hard to combat, and how to resist or whether she could
resist, were questions which pressed for an immediate answer. She
possessed a temperament which warned her imperatively against this
hasty marriage, nor was there any hesitancy in her belief that it
would blight her young life beyond remedy. She was not one to moan
or weep helplessly very long, however, and the first gust of passion
and grief having passed, her mind began to clear and face the
situation. Looking out of her window, she saw that her cousin and
his men were mounted and were about to ride away again. Having
waited till they had disappeared, she bathed her eyes and then
descended to her uncle.

"Where has Lieutenant Whately gone?" she asked.

"Your cousin does not forget, even at such a time, that he is a
soldier, and he is scouting the country far and wide. Moreover, it
is his intention to ask the Rev. Dr. Williams to be here to-morrow
evening, and a few friends also. I trust that by that time your
perverse mood will pass away, and that you will unite with your
kindred in their efforts in your behalf."

"Is there no use of reasoning with you, uncle--no use of pleading
with you?"

Perkins stood in the door and knocked to announce his presence.

"Well, what is it?" asked Mr. Baron, nervously.

"Have you heard anything, sir?"

"Good heavens, no! Heard what?"

"Well, sir, I dunno. The field-hands are buzzing like bees, en I
kyant get nothin' out of 'em."

"Well, Perkins, be watchful. Do your best. God only knows what's
coming. You are well armed, I suppose?"

"You may reckon that, sir, en I'll use 'em too, ef need be. The
hands are cute, mighty cute. I kyant lay my finger on any one in
particular, but they're all a sort of bilin' up with 'citement."

"Best to stay among them and be stern and vigilant." When Perkins
withdrew Mr. Baron said to his niece with strong emotion, "You see
we are beset with danger, and you talk of reasoning and pleading
against my best efforts for your safety. There! I'm too harassed,
too overwhelmed with weighty subjects for consideration, to discuss
this matter further. I must give my attention to securing some
papers of vital importance."

Miss Lou departed with the feeling that dangers were thickening on
every hand, and that she was only one of the causes for anxiety in
her uncle's mind. She knew it would be useless to say anything to
her aunt; and with a longing for a little sympathy and advice, she
resolved on another visit to her old mammy, Aun' Jinkey.

The Union soldier had a remote place in the background of her
thoughts, and yet she felt that it was preposterous to hope for
anything from him.




CHAPTER VIII

"WHEN?"


The vigilant eyes and constant demands of her mistress prevented
Zany from giving Chunk more than a few significant hints, but he was
quick to comprehend the situation. When he saw Miss Lou bending her
steps toward his granny's cottage, he thanked his stars that the
garden was in that direction also, and soon apparently was very busy
at a good point from which to observe the cabin. In view of the
approaching wedding Mrs. Baron had given Aun' Jinkey much to do, and
she was busily ironing when Miss Lou again stood within the door.
The old woman's fears had been so greatly aroused that she had
insisted that Scoville should remain in the loft. "Folks 'll be
comin' en gwine all the eb'nin', en ole miss hersef mout step dis
away."

At the same time her heart ached for the young girl. At sight of the
sweet, troubled face the faithful creature just dropped into a
chair, and throwing her apron over her head, rocked back and forth,
moaning "You po' chile, you po' chile!"

"Yes, mammy," cried Miss Lou, forgetting for the moment that a
stranger was within hearing. "I'm in desperate straits, and I don't
know what to do."

The trap-door was lifted instantly, and Scoville was about to
descend.

"You mustn't do dat!" exclaimed Aun' Jinkey. "We's all in mis'ry
anuff now."

"I hope that in no sense I am the cause of it," said Scoville,
earnestly.

"Oh, no," replied Miss Lou, wiping her eyes hastily, "not directly.
Pardon me, I forgot for the moment that you were here. My trouble is
with my family, and you have nothing to do with it except as you
Yankees are coming South and making trouble of every kind."

"Well, Miss Baron," said the scout, regarding her sympathetically
through the open door, "it is too late to talk about our coming
South. Isn't there something I can do for you, to show my gratitude
and good-will?"

"Oh, no, indeed!"

"De bes' ting you kin do, Marse Scoville, is ter shet dat do' an'
kep still; den git back ter yo' folks soon ez you kin trabble. We
uns got des ez much ez we kin stan' up un'er, en ef dey foun' you
yere, hit ud be de worl' comin' ter smash."

"If Miss Baron would tell me her trouble, she might find that I am
not so powerless to help as I seem. Since she has done so much for
me, I have a certain kind of right to do what I can in return."

"You forget, sir, that we are strangers and aliens."

"No one is an alien to me from whom I am accepting life and safety,"
and his glance was so kind and friendly that, in her dire extremity,
she was induced to ask a question.

"If you feel that you owe anything to me," she said, hesitatingly,
"tell me truly, if your people came to this plantation, would our
home be burned and we all be in danger of insult and death?"

"Is that all you fear?" he asked, smiling.

"But answer me on your word and honor."

"No, Miss Baron, not from our regular troops. There are vile
wretches connected with all armies, on your side as well as ours,
who act without orders or any control except their lawless will. If
you and your friends are tortured by the fear of Northern soldiers,
should they come this way, you may set your mind comparatively at
rest. I must add, however, that our troops have to live off the
country, and so take food for man and beast. They also help
themselves to better horses when they find them. I have told you the
truth. Why, believe me, Miss Baron, I would defend you with my life
against any one."

"Oh, dear!" cried the girl, with another rush of tears, "my uncle
believes that our house will be burned and we all murdered, and they
are going to marry me to my cousin against my will, so that he can
take me to a place of safety."

"When?" asked Scoville, excitedly.

"To-morrow evening."

Aun' Jinkey in her trepidation had stepped to the door, and there,
sure enough, was Mrs. Baron coming down the path with her hand full
of crumpled muslins. She had appeared so silently and suddenly
before Chunk that he had started and stared at her. When he tried to
edge off toward the cabin, she had said, sharply, "Keep at your
work. What is the matter with you? I reckon your granny is smoking
instead of doing my work," and she hastened her steps to surprise
the supposed delinquent.

Entering the cabin, she saw only Aun' Jinkey ironing, and her niece
sitting with her handkerchief to her face. "Ah!" said the old lady
to her laundress, "I'm glad you realize the importance of doing my
work when it's needed." Then followed a few brief directions in
regard to the articles she had brought. "Louise, I wish you to come
with me. This is no place for you," concluded Mrs. Baron, turning to
depart.

The girl rose and followed submissively, for she was overwhelmed by
a confused sense of danger, not merely to the Union soldier, but
also to her old mammy, who was sheltering him. The extremity of her
fears and the fact that Chunk had not come to warn them led her to
dread that her aunt's suspicions were already aroused. Chunk gave
her a very anxious look as she passed, but she only shook her head
slightly, as much as to say, "I don't know."

The negro's elation and confidence now passed utterly; he became
deeply alarmed, not only for the scout, but for himself and
grandmother as well. He was not long in coming to a decision.
Whately and his troopers were absent, and now, perhaps, was the best
time to act. After satisfying himself that he was not observed, he
slipped away to the cabin.

When Mrs. Baron finally disappeared, Aun' Jinkey sank into a chair
almost in a state of collapse. "O good Lawd!" she gasped, "I des
tremblin' so in my knee-jints I kyant stan'."

"Courage, Aunt Jinkey," said Scoville, through the chink in the
floor. "Try to get Chunk here as soon as possible."

"I des done beat. I kyant lif my han' no mo'."

"Granny," said Chunk, sauntering in, "you des watch at de do'," and
without waiting for a word he went up the ladder, lifted the door
and closed it.

"Ah, Chunk, I wanted you badly," said Scoville. "Do you think it
possible for me to get away at once?"

"Dat des w'at I come ter see 'bout, mars'r, en I'se gwine wid you.
Marse Whately and he men all done gone till eb'nin'."

"Well, there's no need of further words. See what you can do about
getting horses and a good start. I will explain on the way. Hoot
like an owl when the coast is clear and you are ready."

A few moments later Chunk emerged from the cabin, with careless
mien, eating a pone of hoecake.