harleston which he had liked,
and in the life of which he had had a share. Bertrand shook hands with
both with great enthusiasm, but his eyes sparkled when he spoke to Harry.

"And you were there when they fired on Sumter!" he exclaimed. "And you
had a part in it! What a glorious day! What a glorious deed! And I
had to be here in your cold state, trying to make these descendants of
stubborn Scotch and English see the right, and follow gladly in the path
of our beautiful star, South Carolina!"

"How goes the cause here, Bertrand?" asked Colonel Kenton, breaking in
on his prose epic.

Bertrand shrugged his shoulders and his face expressed discontent.

"Not well," he replied, "not as well as I had hoped. There is still
something in the name of the Union that stirs the hearts of the
Kentuckians. They hesitate. I have worked, I have talked, I have used
all the arguments of our illustrious President, Mr. Davis, and of the
other great men who have charge of Southern fortunes, and they still
hesitate. Their blood is not hot enough. They do not have the vision.
They lack the fire and splendor of the South Carolinians!"

Harry felt a little heat, but Colonel Kenton was not disturbed at all by
the criticism.

"Perhaps you are right, Bertrand," he said thoughtfully. "We
Kentuckians have the reputation of being very quick on the trigger,
but we are conservative in big things. This is going to be a great war,
a mighty great war, and I suppose our people feel like taking a good
long look, and then another, equally as long, before they leap."

Bertrand, hot-blooded and impatient, bit his lip.

"It will not do! It will not do!" he exclaimed. "We must have this
state. Virginia has gone out! Kentucky is her daughter! Then why does
not she do the same?"

"You must give us time, Bertrand," said Colonel Kenton, still speaking
slowly and thoughtfully. "We are not starting upon any summer holiday,
and I can understand how the people here feel. I'm going with my people
and I'm going to fire on the old flag, under which I've fought so often,
but you needn't think it comes so easy. This thing of choosing between
the sections is the hardest task that was ever set for a man."

Harry had never heard his father speak with more solemnity. Bertrand
was silent, overawed by the older man, but to the boy the words were
extremely impressive. His youthful temperament was sensitive to
atmosphere. In Charleston he shared the