n another lying beneath; then that,
too, was raised, and the nuts and wines were placed on a third--red
damask this time.

Then came the toasts: to the gracious hostess from Major Buford; to
Miss Lucy from General Dean; from valiant Richard Hunt to blushing
Margaret, and then the ladies were gone, and the talk was politics--the
election of Lincoln, slavery, disunion.

"If Lincoln is elected, no power but God's can avert war," said Richard
Hunt, gravely.

Dan's eyes flashed. "Will you take me?"

The lieutenant lifted his glass. "Gladly, my boy."

"Kentucky's convictions are with the Union; her kinship and sympathies
with the South," said a deep-voiced lawyer. "She must remain neutral."

"Straddling the fence," said the Major, sarcastically.

"No; to avert the war, if possible, or to act the peacemaker when the
tragedy is over."

"Well, I can see Kentuckians keeping out of a fight," laughed the
General, and he looked around. Three out of five of the men present had
been in the Mexican war. The General had been wounded at Cerro Gordo,
and the Major had brought his dead home in leaden coffins.

"The fanatics of Boston, the hot-heads of South Carolina--they are
making the mischief."

"And New England began with slavery," said the lawyer again.

"And naturally, with that conscience that is a national calamity, was
the first to give it up," said Richard Hunt, "when the market price of
slaves fell to sixpence a pound in the open Boston markets." There was
an incredulous murmur.

"Oh, yes," said Hunt, easily, "I can show you advertisements in Boston
papers of slaves for sale at sixpence a pound."

Perhaps it never occurred to a soul present that the word "slave" was
never heard in that region except in some such way. With Southerners,
the negroes were "our servants" or "our people"--never slaves. Two lads
at that table were growing white--Chad and Harry--and Chad's lips
opened first.

"I don't think slavery has much to do with the question, really," he
said, "not even with Mr. Lincoln." The silent surprise that followed
the boy's embarrassed statement ended in a gasp of astonishment when
Harry leaned across the table and said, hotly:

"Slavery has EVERYTHING to do with the question."

The Major looked bewildered; the General frowned, and the keen-eyed
lawyer spoke again:

"The struggle was written in the Constitution. The framers evaded it.
Logic leads one way as well as another and no man can logically bla