by the way, that Jack came to grief some years later. He
was one of the crew of the filibustering vessel _Virginius_, and was
captured and shot along with the others. Something in his demeanor as he
knelt in the line to receive the fatal fusillade prompted a priest to
inquire his religion. "I am an atheist, by God!" said Jack, and with this
quiet profession of faith that gentle spirit winged its way to other
tropics.

Having expounded with some particularity the precarious tenure by which I
held my office and my life in those "thrilling regions" where my duties
lay, I ought to explain by what unhappy chance I am still able to afflict
the reader. There lived in Selma a certain once wealthy and still
influential citizen, whose two sons, of about my own age, had served as
officers in the Confederate Army. I will designate them simply as Charles
and Frank. They were types of a class now, I fear, almost extinct. Born
and bred in luxury and knowing nothing of the seamy side of life--except,
indeed, what they had learned in the war--well educated, brave, generous,
sensitive to points of honor, and of engaging manners, these brothers were
by all respected, by many loved and by some feared. For they had quick
fingers upon the pistol-trigger withal, and would rather fight a duel than
eat--nay, drink. Nor were they over-particular about the combat taking the
form of a duel--almost any form was good enough. I made their acquaintance
by chance and cultivated it for the pleasure it gave me. It was long
afterward that I gave a thought to its advantages; but from the time that
I became generally known as their friend my safety was assured through all
that region; an army with banners could not have given me the same
immunity from danger, obstruction or even insult in the performance of my
disagreeable duties. What glorious fellows they were, to be sure--these my
late antagonists of the dark days when, God forgive us, we were trying to
cut one another's throat. To this day I feel a sense of regret when I
think of my instrumentality, however small, in depriving the world of many
such men in the criminal insanity that we call battle.

Life in Selma became worth living even as the chance of living it
augmented. With my new friends and a friend of theirs, whose name--the
more shame to me--I cannot now recall, but should not write here if I
could, I passed most of my leisure hours. At the houses of themselves and
their friends I did most of