nd years he watched their
surface ripple under the wind, heard the thunder of the surf on his beach,
the howl of the storm over his head, gazed on the dim blue horizon calling
him to worlds that lie beyond, and yet he never dreamed a sail! He lived
as his fathers lived--stole his food, worked his wife, sold his children,
ate his brother, content to drink, sing, dance, and sport as the ape!

"And this creature, half child, half animal, the sport of impulse, whim,
and conceit, 'pleased with a rattle, tickled with a straw,' a being who,
left to his will, roams at night and sleeps in the day, whose speech knows
no word of love, whose passions, once aroused, are as the fury of the
tiger--they have set this thing to rule over the Southern people----"

The doctor sprang to his feet, his face livid, his eyes blazing with
emotion. "Merciful God--it surpasses human belief!"

He sank exhausted in his chair, and, extending his hand in an eloquent
gesture, continued:

"Surely, surely, sir, the people of the North are not mad? We can yet
appeal to the conscience and the brain of our brethren of a common race?"

Stoneman was silent as if stunned. Deep down in his strange soul he was
drunk with the joy of a triumphant vengeance he had carried locked in the
depths of his being, yet the intensity of this man's suffering for a
people's cause surprised and distressed him as all individual pain hurt
him.

Dr. Cameron rose, stung by his silence and the consciousness of the
hostility with which Stoneman had wrapped himself.

"Pardon my apparent rudeness, Doctor," he said at length, extending his
hand. "The violence of your feeling stunned me for the moment. I'm obliged
to you for speaking. I like a plain-spoken man. I am sorry to learn of the
stupidity of the former military commandant in this town----"

"My personal wrongs, sir," the doctor broke in, "are nothing!"

"I am sorry, too, about these individual cases of suffering. They are the
necessary incidents of a great upheaval. But may it not all come out right
in the end? After the Dark Ages, day broke at last. We have the printing
press, railroad, and telegraph--a revolution in human affairs. We may do
in years what it took ages to do in the past. May not the black man
speedily emerge? Who knows? An appeal to the North will be a waste of
breath. This experiment is going to be made. It is written in the book of
Fate. But I like you. Come to see me again."

Dr. Cameron left with a