to welcome him. The troops drew up
close to the portico, and back of them, every open space was black with
people.

Harry, in the very front rank, saw and heard it all. Mr. Davis stopped
as soon as he reached the portico, and Yancey, the famous orator of
Alabama, to whom Harry had delivered his letters in Charleston, stepped
forward, and, in behalf of the people of the South, made a speech of
welcome in a clear, resonant, and emphatic tone. The applause compelled
him to stop at times, but throughout, Mr. Davis stood rigid and
unsmiling. His countenance expressed none of his thoughts, whatever
they may have been. Harry's eyes never wandered from his face, except
to glance now and then at the weazened, shrunken, little man who stood
near him, Alexander H. Stephens of Georgia, who would take the oath of
office as Vice-President of the new Confederacy. He had been present
throughout the convention as a delegate from Georgia, and men talked of
the mighty mind imprisoned in the weak and dwarfed body.

Harry thrilled more than once as the new President spoke on in calm,
measured tones. He was glad to be present at the occurrence of great
events, and he was glad to witness this gathering of the mighty.
The tide of youth flowed high in him, and he believed himself fortunate
to have been at Charleston when the cannon met the Star of the West,
and yet more fortunate to be now at Montgomery, when the head of the
new nation was taking up his duties.

His gaze wandered for the first time from the men in the portico to the
crowd without that rimmed them around. His eyes, without any particular
purpose, passed from face to face in the front ranks, and then stopped,
arrested by a countenance that he had little expected to see. It was
the shadow, Shepard, standing there, and listening, and looking as
intently as Harry himself. It was not an evil face, cut clearly and
eager, but Harry was sorry that he had come. If Colonel Talbot's
beliefs about him were true, this was a bad place for Shepard.

But his eyes went back to the new President and the men on the portico
before him. The first scene in the first act of a great drama, a mighty
tragedy, had begun, and every detail was of absorbing interest to him.
Shepard was forgotten in an instant.

Harry noticed that Mr. Davis never mentioned slavery, a subject which
was uppermost in the minds of all, North and South, but he alluded to
the possibility of war, and thought the ne