hour in
Charleston but he liked it already. The old city breathed with an ease
and grace to which he was unused. The best name that he knew for it was
fragrance.

He had a suit of fresh clothing in his saddle bags, and he arrayed
himself with the utmost neatness and care. He felt that he must do so.
He could not present himself in rough guise to a people who had every
right to be fastidious. He would also obtain further clothing out of
the abundant store of money, as his father had wished him to make a good
appearance and associate with the best.

He descended, and found Madame Delaunay in the garden, where she gave
him welcome, with grave courtesy. She seemed to him in manner and
bearing a woman of wealth and position, and not the keeper of an inn,
doing most of the work with her own hands. He learned later that the
two could go together in Charleston, and he learned also, that she was
the grand-daughter of a great Haytian sugar planter, who had fled from
the island, leaving everything to the followers of Toussaint l'Ouverture,
glad to reach the shores of South Carolina in safety.

Madame Delaunay looked with admiration at the young Kentuckian, so tall
and powerful for his age. To her, Kentucky was a part of the cold North.

"Can you tell me where I am likely to find Senator Yancey?" asked Harry.
"I have letters which I must deliver to him, and I have heard that he is
in Charleston."

"There is to be a meeting of the leaders this afternoon in St. Anthony's
Hall in Broad street. You will surely find him there, but you must have
your luncheon first. I think you must have travelled far."

"From Kentucky," replied Harry, and then he added impulsively: "I've
come to join your people, Madame Delaunay. South Carolina has many and
powerful friends in the Upper South."

"She will need them," said Madame Delaunay, but with no tone of
apprehension. "This, however, is a city that has withstood much fire
and blood and it can withstand much more. Now I'll leave you here
in the garden. Come to luncheon at one, and you shall meet my other
guests."

Harry sat down on a little wooden bench beneath a magnolia. Here in the
garden the odor of grass and foliage was keen, and thrillingly sweet.
This was the South, the real South, and its warm passions leaped up in
his blood. Much of the talk that he had been hearing recently from
those older than he passed through his mind. The Southern states did
have a right to go