Sherman. I have looked in vain for its justification, while I have observed in you a seeming too sanguinary hate of our misguided countrymen.
Halcom. I have sometimes thought that I may be insane from the wrongs I have suffered from the men who lead this revolt. Not thirty leagues from here I first saw the light. My family came of the Huguenot emigrants that settled in the Carolinas. As the rush of population swept towards the west my ancestors found a home in the wilds of Tennessee. My father inherited twenty thousand acres in the Cumberland Valley. Our home was happy. My angel mother was a friend to the helpless and wronged. At twelve years of age I kissed her the last good bye (hesitating), and left to educate myself in the free schools of New England. My father was no traitor to the principles of right and justice. Accused of no overt act, he had the right to advocate his convictions, and these were so born and educated in right, infamy had no manly response. The knife and torch of the assassin met his appeal to the honor of his adversaries. One day a dispatch came to me. I hurriedly broke the seal. They had all perished by the hand of the assassin. Five weeks later I awoke from the delirium of a fever that has never left my brain. (Shows Sherman a picture.) My mother. She was so good and beautiful.
Sherman. She was, indeed, beautiful (returns it).
Halcom. Kneeling in my New England home, with her sweet face looking from that picture into my own, I swore that my hand should never stay, until it should find the life of her assassin.
Sherman. Such revenge is honorable.
Halcom. An infant sister was born during my absence—
Sherman. She still lives?
Halcom. Her ashes mingle with the others in the ruins of our old home.
Sherman. Only the class that can buy and sell human hearts and affections can produce such villains.
Halcom. Fifteen years since I have made my annual pilgrimage to the desolate spot where I was born. A tablet to their memory survives until I leave. Often in disguise I have entered the councils of my enemies. Seven of the fiends I have looked in the face, while my hands clutched their throats till the last gurgle of life had been gone an hour. The chief still survives. I have tracked him through the gambling hells and slave yards of the southern cities, till I have found him in command of a guerilla force in this department. Twice I have seemed to annihilate them, but he has never appeared among the slain.