Hagars Daughter | Page 8

the officials of the
new government, was thinking of the heiress of Enson Hall. He was
bitter over his loss, and ready to blame anyone but himself.
In his opinion, Ellis was humdrum; he was mild and peaceful in his
disposition, because his blood was too sluggish and his natural
characteristics too womanish for the life of a gentleman. Then, too,
Ellis, was old, fifteen years his senior, and he was twenty-five.
St. Clair shared the universal opinion of his world (and to him the
world did not exist north of Mason and Dixon's line), that a reckless
career of gambling, wine and women was the only true course of
development for a typical Southern gentleman. As he thought of the
infant heiress his face grew black with a frown of rage that for the time
completely spoiled the beauty women raved over. His man Isaac,

furtively watching him from the corner of his eye, said to himself:
"I know dat dar's gwine to be a rippit; Marse St. Clair never look dat a
way widout de debbil himself am broked loose." In which view of the
case Isaac was about right.
St. Clair made up his mind to go home and see this fair woman who
had come to blast his hopes and steal his patrimony for her children.
Perhaps as she was young, and presumably susceptible, something
might be done. He was handsome--Ah, well! and he laughed a wicked
laugh at his reflection in the mirror; he would trust to luck to help him
out. He ordered Isaac to pack up.
"Good Lawd, Marse St. Clair! I thought you'd done settled here fer
good. How comes we go right off?"
"We're going home, Isaac, to see the new mistress Enson and my niece.
Haven't I told you that your master, Ellis was married, and had a
daughter?"
"Bress my soul! no sar!" replied Isaac, dropping the clothes he held
upon the floor. His master left the room.
"Now de Lawd help de mistress an' de little baby. I love my master, but
he's a borned debbil. He's jes' gwine home to tare up brass, dat's de
whole collusion ob de mystery."
St. Clair Enson took passage on board "The Planter," which was ready
to start upon its last trip up Chesapeake Bay before going into the
service of the Confederate government. At that time this historic vessel
was a side-wheel steamer storing about fourteen hundred bales of
cotton as freight, but having accommodations for a moderate number of
passengers. No one of the proud supporters of the new government
dreamed of her ultimate fate. The position of the South was defined,
and given to the world with a loud flourish of trumpets. By their
reasoning, a few short months would make them masters of the entire
country. Wedded to their idols, they knew not the force of the "dire
arms" which Omnipotence would wield upon the side of Right. One of

the most daring and heroic adventures of the Civil War was
successfully accomplished by a party of Negroes, Robert Small
commanding, when the rebel gunboat "The Planter" ran by the forts
and batteries of Charleston Harbor, and reaching the flagship "Wabash"
was duly received into the service of the United States government.
St. Clair Enson went on board the steamer with mixed feelings of
triumph and chagrin--triumph because of the place he had made for
himself in the councils of the new government and the adulation meted
out to him by the public; chagrin because of his brother's new family
ties and his own consequent poverty.
For a while he wandered aimlessly about, resisting all the tempting
invitations extended by his numerous admirers in the sporting and
political world to "have something" at the glittering bar. But his
pockets were empty--they always were--and he finally allowed himself
to be cajolled to join in a quiet game in the hope of replenishing his
purse, where he saw the chances were all in his favor.
The saloon was alight with music and gaiety; the jolly company of
travelers and the gaudy furniture were reflected many times over in the
gilded mirrors that caught the rays of a large chandelier depending from
the center of the ceiling. To the eye and ear merriment held high
carnival; some strolled about, many sought the refreshment bar, but a
greater number--men and even women--took part in the play or bet
lightly on the players, sotto voce, for pastime. The clink and gleam of
gold was there as it passed from hand to hand. Six men at a table
played baccarat; farther on, a party of very young people--both
sexes--played loo for small stakes. There were quartets of whist players,
too; but the most popular game was poker, for high stakes made by
reckless and inveterate