The thirtieth November came at last, and found DeVare, Ned and myself on the train for Wilmington.
The fall session had closed that afternoon, and we had gone up to Durham’s to take the night train. DeVare was going home with me, and would remain till the 3d December, when we were to go over to South Carolina, that Brazon might prove himself a gentleman by trying to take DeVare’s life.
He and Ellerton were on the same train, in company with Frank, but there was no intercourse between any of us.
We reached Wilmington late the next evening, and were heartily welcomed by every one. It was delightful to be in my dear home again, every one so glad to see me, and all interested in the merest little detail of my experience. Carlotta was far more beautiful than when I had left her, and I thought, if years improve her as months have done, she will be the most superbly beautiful woman the world has ever seen. DeVare was perfectly enraptured with her, and vowed that were his affections free he would lay them at her feet. In fact, everything was made so pleasant to both of us that he declared my home the happiest he had ever known. My spirits were very much depressed. Do what I would I could not shake off a dull, heavy foreboding that seemed to shroud my heart in perpetual gloom. Even when I would forget it for a while, there was the same unrest, the same consciousness of something unpleasant, ever resting on my mind. Whatever were the consequences of the dreaded affair to the others, to myself they could be nothing else but disagreeable. If there were no bloodshed, I would incur father’s displeasure to the last degree. I would be liable to indictment in law, and would, perhaps, be expelled from the University; while if DeVare was killed,—— but I could not allow myself to think of such a horror for the slightest moment.
Every day I prayed, with all the faith I could command, that it might not occur, and, if it did, that no blood might be spilled. I would have informed the authorities had I not promised DeVare to keep it secret. All this dread of it arose from the fact that I was only the second. Had I been one of the principals in it the romance of excitement would have kept up my spirits, and the necessity for heroic demeanor would have nerved me into nonchalance. DeVare seemed perfectly cheerful, and scarcely ever gave the subject a thought, but my loss of spirits was so perceptible that father rallied me in regard to it, and mother became really solicitous.
The night of the 2d December came round, and DeVare and I went to our rooms to make preparations for our trip next morning. I had told them down stairs that DeVare had a little matter of business in South Carolina, and that I had agreed to accompany him thither. We had very few preparations to make, as we expected to return on the evening train. As I said this to DeVare, when he suggested that we had best carry a valise, I remember the peculiar smile with which he replied:
“Perhaps we may not return at all, at least together. One of us may be in the baggage car.”
“Oh, Ramie, for the love of Heaven do not speak in that way. If you have any love for me let me take your place to-morrow. I had rather die a thousand deaths than feel the dreadful gloom I do to-night,” and I bowed my face upon the table, while my frame shook with emotion.
“Why, Jack,” said Ramie fondly, laying his hand on my arm, “you unnerve me. What have you to fear?”
“More than you, Ramie! I had a hundred fold rather face death than the remorse I must feel if anything happens to you.”