n problem--our cause, dear Countess?"
"Pardon, General, really it is also the cause of this country. We
think that in Hungary democracy is in peril. It is not less so
here."
"But, my dear child, you would not cast doubt upon our plans,--you
have not become lukewarm to our cause so soon, my dear?"
"No, no, General. But Europe does not understand America. America
does not understand herself. I ask only that the great men of that
country shall see the great problems of this. There we could win
freedom by sword and gun. Here also that must yet be done. The
time for such means has not yet arrived. Yet here also evil cries
aloud. Soon war must come, here also--bloody war. We ask funds
for Hungary. America soon will need funds for herself."
"Ah, you mean this problem of the North and South--of slavery."
The face of the old general became grave. "I have talked with
many," said he. "It seems incapable of solution. But have not
your brilliant faculties, my dear Countess, suggested any solution?
We learned to value your counsel over yonder."
"What could a mere woman do in a matter vast as this? My General,
not all the wisdom of this country has suggested a remedy. I am
but a woman and not wise. He who attempts to solve this slavery
question must do what no statesman in all history has been able to
do, what human wisdom here has failed to do for fifty years or
more. America has spent thirty years of statesmanship on this one
question, and is just where it started. This country, as Thomas
Jefferson said so long ago, still has the wolf by the ear, but has
not killed it and dare not let it go. Out there--where I have
been--in the West--there the new battle must be fought. Now, my
General, what difference, whether America shall help Europe. or
Europe shall help America? The battle for democracy must be
fought, in this generation, perhaps again in the next. What would
be the result of that war, if either section won to the destruction
of this Union? Ah! _there_, my General, is the danger to Hungary,
the danger to Europe, to the cause of freedom and humanity. As I
said, Kossuth will find things here to engage his best attention."
"I know your generosity," said Zewlinski, swiftly leading her apart
and gazing her straight in the face as he spoke, in low tones none
else might hear. "I know how you got your estates yonder--how wide
handed you have been with your revenues. I know your strange,
unhapp
|