A Little Traitor to the South | Page 9

frigate they will dart through the
Swash and try to get to sea. I reckon upon the other Yankee ships
running down to aid the Wabash. I'll see you on the wharf. God bless
you, and may He have mercy on your souls!" said the little general,
solemnly.
He put out his hand to the young man, and Sempland shook it
vigorously.
"I pray that I may succeed for the sake of the South, sir," returned the
young man, firmly.
"For the sake of the South, gentlemen. That is our watchword," cried
Beauregard, standing up and bringing his hand to a salute.

"Have you any preparations to make, Sempland?" asked Lacy, when
they left the office.
"I have a letter to write."
"Very well. I will look after the boat and will meet you on the wharf.
Shall you see Miss Glen before you go?"
"No."
"You must."
"I cannot. What difference does it make to her, anyway? I will be at the
wharf"--he looked at his watch, it was already six o'clock--"in
three-quarters of an hour. Good-by."
The two men shook hands and separated.
"The boat is ready," said Lacy to himself. "I saw to that this afternoon.
There is nothing for me to do there. I wonder--by Jove, I'll do it!"
A few minutes after he was ushered again into the presence of Miss
Fanny Glen. She had at first pleaded indisposition, but he had insisted
upon seeing her.
"I have something of so much importance to tell you, Miss Glen," he
began, as she entered the room, "that I was forced to override your
desires."
"Is it about the subject that we--I--talked about this afternoon? If so--"
"It is not. I shall say no more on that score. I had my answer then."
"I am very sorry," continued the girl. "I admire you, respect you,
but--but--I do not--"
"I understand. Never mind that. You said that Sempland had never
done anything to distinguish himself. Well, he's going to do it to-night."

"What is he going to do?" asked the girl, all the listlessness instantly
going out of her manner.
"He is going to take out the David."
"Yes?"
"And blow up the Wabash."
Her hand went to her heart. Her face turned whiter than the frock she
wore.
"My God!" she whispered, "Admiral Vernon's ship!"
"She loves him! She loves him!" flashed into Lacy's mind, and for the
moment he suffered agonies of jealous pain.
"But," continued the girl, "why should they--"
"In the first place," went on Lacy, "if the venture succeeds, we sink a
noble ship and put out of the way a most determined enemy, and we
hope to let the blockaded cotton ships get to sea."
"But the David!" said the girl, who knew the sinister story of the crazy
submarine torpedo boat as did every one in Charleston. "It is sure
death!"
"It is dangerous," said Lacy, softly, "but General Beauregard has
ordered Sempland to keep her on the surface. That ought to give them a
chance. Glassell escaped, you remember, when he tried the New
Ironsides."
"He will be killed! He will be killed!" she cried piteously,
"and--Admiral Vernon!"
"What is the Yankee admiral to you, to any of us?" Lacy asked,
curiously interested to know the meaning of her remark.
"Why do you tell me of all this?" she asked, failing to notice his

question in her anxiety and alarm.
"Because I want you to know Sempland as the hero he is, and
because--forgive my frankness--I believe that you love him. So I want
him to hear you say it before he goes out. It will double his chances of
escape if he has your love to think of. You will inspire him to come
back. As it is now, I am afraid he does not especially care to. He's too
good a man to lose, if we--if you--can save him, Miss Fanny."
"And this man abused you to me this afternoon!" murmured the girl.
"He said what was true. I honor him for it. I love you, Miss Fanny. I am
proving it to you now as I proved it to him when I gave him my place
at his earnest entreaty. The detail was mine."
"Why did you do it?"
"For his sake, for yours. It's his solitary chance. I've had so many, you
know."
"And he is going to blow up the Wabash, the admiral's ship, did you
say?"
"Yes, if he can."
Fanny Glen was a picture of terror plainly apparent in spite of her
valiant effort to conceal her feelings. Her agitation was so
overwhelming, her anxiety so pronounced, that even on the hypothesis
of an ardent affection for Sempland, Lacy was completely at loss to
account for her condition. What could it mean? But he had no