bright that time
can not dim, or conquest tarnish, them.

Through South Carolina and Georgia, men seemed more awake to the
greatness of the change and to the imminence of its results. Inland
Georgia, especially, showed keener and shrewder. Questions were more to
the point; and many a quick retort was popped through the car windows
at Staple's wonderful inventions. A strongly asseverated wish to do
something, and that at the earliest moment, was generally clinched by a
bouncing oath; but where, or how, that something was to be done was
never even hinted. Briefly, Georgia seemed more anxious for preparation
than her neighbors; withal she was equally far from preparation. It
were manifestly unfair to judge the status of a whole people by
glimpses from a railway carriage. But from that point of view, the
earliest hours of revolution--those hours which, properly utilized, are
most fruitful of result--were woefully and weakly wasted by "the
leaders."

The people had risen _en masse_. The flame had spread among them like
lava to their lowest depths. Told that their section needed them, they
had responded like the Douglas, "Ready, aye, ready!" Beyond this they
were told nothing; and during those most precious weeks they waited,
while demagoguery flourished and action slept. The entire cotton
growing region was in active fermentation; but, until the surface
bubbles ceased, no practical deposit could be looked for.

"Devilish strong hands and pretty broad backs these, but I've yet to
see the first head among them! I suppose we'll find _them_ at
Montgomery!"

After emitting which Orphic utterance at West Point, Styles Staple
emptied the partnership's pocket-flask, and then slept peacefully until
we reached the "Cradle of the Confederacy."

Montgomery, like Rome, sits on seven hills. The city is picturesque in
perch upon bold, high bluffs, which, on the city side, cut sheer down
to the Alabama river; here, seemingly scarce more than a biscuit-toss
across. From the opposite bank spread great flat stretches of marsh and
meadow land, while on the other side, behind the town, the formation
swells and undulates with gentle rise. As in most southern inland
towns, its one great artery, Main street, runs from the river bluffs to
the Capitol, perched on a high hill a full mile away. This street, wide
and sandy, was in the cradle days badly paved, but rather closely built
up. Nor was the Capitol a peculiarly stately pile, either in si