es as these you are likely to see even the women
in the forefront in the fray, and doing even more than merely making
calls," returned the visitor, releasing her hold and stepping in front
of Mr. Wingate. "Why, Molly Pierrepont! What brings you here?" exclaimed
Mr. Wingate, rising and staring at his visitor, who unceremoniously sank
into a chair. "I am somewhat interested in this campaign
myself--astonishing intelligence I know," calmly replied the visitor;
"yet I am going to astonish you more by saying that I have information
to impart to the chairman of the Executive Committee that will be of
great value to him in conducting this campaign." Molly's calm demeanor,
so unlike a woman of her disposition and temperament, struck Mr. Wingate
somewhat humorously. Molly Pierrepont, having chosen a life of shame
that she might--if only clandestinely--associate with and enjoy the
favors of the men of the white race, would be the last person of the
race to take a stand in its defense to give aid to the Negro in his
combat with the white man, politically or otherwise. Women of Molly's
stamp, possessing no race pride, had never been race defenders, so it
was plausible for Mr. Wingate to feel that the woman was jesting, or
that she was sent by his enemies into his camp as a spy. "In our present
dilemma the Republican Committee stands much in need of information and
advice," said Mr. Wingate, slowly. "Things are assuming quite a serious
aspect; you are in position to get a good deal of information as to the
maneuvers of the enemy. But, my dear girl, if you are here to aid us,
have you counted the cost?" Mr. Wingate knew that Molly Pierrepont was
the mistress of one of Wilmington's best citizens, a bitter Democrat,
and a reputed leader of the White Supremacy League; that she was well
cared for, that her gowns, etc., equaled in quality and construction
those of her paramour's wife, and, considering her love for such ease
and luxury, to come out and reveal the doings, and openly denounce the
schemes of the party of her paramour, was a sacrifice that a woman of
her character was not generally ready to make--in fact, such thoughts
did not find lodgment in her brain. In the flattering embrace of the
Philistine all noble aspirations ordinarily become extinct. Mr.
Wingate's interrogation was followed by a brief pause, which caused
Molly to move uneasily in her chair. "I see, Silas Wingate, that you
question my sincerity," she said, slowly. "I