Can the Ethiopian change his skin? It has generally been thought not. But there was certainly an element of grace in Hyde which now promised to bleach the whole moral complexion of the man; and that element, though but as a grain of mustard-seed, was love for his sister and her offspring.
Mr. Semmes was glad to receive, as the recompense for his services, the exemption of certain property from confiscation. At their parting interview Vance ingenuously told him he considered him a scoundrel. Semmes didn’t see it in that light, and entered into a long argument to prove that he had done no wrong. Vance listened patiently, and said in reply, “Do you perceive an ill odor of dead rats in the wall?” Semmes snuffed, and then answered, “Indeed I don’t perceive any bad smell.” “I do,” said Vance; “good by, sir!” And that was the end of their acquaintance.
But it is in the track of Vance and Clara that we promised to conduct the reader. Clara had proposed a ramble over the grounds. Never had she appeared so radiant in Vance’s eyes. It was not her dress, for that was rather plain, though perfect in its adaptedness to the season and the scene. It was not that jaunty little hat, hiding not too much of her soft, thick hair. But the climate of her ancestral North seemed to have added a new sparkle and gloss to her beauty. And then the pleasure of seeing Vance showed itself so unreservedly in her face!
They strolled through the well-appointed garden, and Vance was glad to see that Clara had a genuine love of flowers and fruits, and could name all the varieties, distinguishing with quick perception the slightest differences of form and hue. In the summer-house, overlooking the majestic river, and surrounded, though not too much shaded, by birches, oaks, and pines, indigenous to the soil, they found Miss Netty Pompilard engaged in sketching. She ran away as they approached, presuming, like a sensible young person, that she could be spared. Even the mocking-bird, Clara’s old friend Dainty, who pecked at a peach in his cage, seemed to understand that his noisy voluntaries must now be hushed.
The promenaders sat down on a rustic bench.
“Well, Clara,” said Vance, “I have heard to-day great and inspiring news. It almost made me feel as if I could afford to stop short in my work, and to be content, should I, like Moses, be suffered only to see the promised land with my eyes, but not to ‘go over thither.’”
“To what do you allude?”
“To-morrow President Lincoln issues a proclamation of prospective emancipation to the slaves of the Rebel States.”
“Good!” cried Clara, giving him her hand for a grasp of congratulation.
“But I foresee,” said Vance, “that there is much yet to be done before it can be effective, and I’ve come to bid you a long, perhaps a last farewell.”