General Nelson's Scout 12

General Nelson's Scout 12

The father staggered as if a knife had pierced his heart. He threw out

his hands wildly, and then pressed them to his breast and gasped: "Fred,

Fred, you don't mean it!"

 

"I was never more in earnest in my life."

 

Mr. Shackelford's feelings underwent a sudden change. His face became

purple with rage; love for his son was forgotten.

 

"Do that," he thundered, "do that, and you are no son of mine. I will

disown you, I will cast you out, I will curse you."

 

"Father," said Fred, in a low tremulous voice, "if part we must, do not

let us part in anger. Never have I loved you better than now; you do

what you believe to be right; I do what I believe to be right. We both

perform our duty as we see it. God will hold the one who blunders

blameless. Let us then part in peace."

 

Mr. Shackelford, with white, drawn face, pointed to the door, and

uttered the one word, "Go!"

 

"Oh, father, father, do not send me away with a curse. See, father,"

and he turned to his mother's portrait which hung on the wall, "mother

is looking down on us; mother, who loved us both so well. How can you

account to her that you have turned away her only son with a curse, and

for no crime, but the one of loving his country."

 

"Boy, boy, have you no mercy that you will not only break my heart, but

tear it out by the roots."

 

"I am the one who asks for mercy, who pleads that you send me not away

with a curse."

 

"Fred, for the sake of your mother, I will not curse you, but I will, if

you remain in my sight. Here," and he went to his safe, opened it, and

took out a package of money. "Here is $1,000, take it and Prince, and

begone. Go to that man, Nelson, who has seduced you. It is a heavy

account I have to settle with him. Go before I forget myself and curse

you."

 

For a moment Fred gazed in his father's face; there was no wrath,

nothing but love in his look. Then he took the money and said: "Father,

I thank you; I not only thank you, but bless you. May God protect you in

the midst of dangers. Not a day shall pass but I shall pray for your

safety. Good-bye, father."

 

He turned and went out.

 

Mr. Shackelford staggered towards the door. "Fred!" It was the cry of a

repentant soul. The boy's footstep echoed outside along the hall,

fainter and fainter.

 

The father groped blindly, as if about to fall.

 

"Fred, Fred, come back!"

 

The outer door closed; his boy was gone.

 

Mr. Shackelford staggered backward and groaned, as if in mortal agony.

Then his eye caught the portrait of his wife looking down on him.

Raising his arms beseechingly, he cried: "Oh, Laura! Laura! What have I

done? Don't look at me so; I didn't curse him. I would have called him

back. My boy! my boy! Oh, God! Oh, God!"

 

It was with a heavy heart that Fred left the house. As he shut the door,

he thought he heard his father call. He stopped and listened, but

hearing nothing, he went on. Getting his horse, he rode to Danville. His

little sister was visiting at Judge Pennington's, and he wanted to see

her, as well as to bid farewell to his uncle, and see Calhoun. He had no

idea but that his uncle would forbid him the house when he heard of his

being cast off by his father.

 

He found Judge Pennington at home, and frankly told him what had

happened, shielding his father as much as possible, and not sparing

himself.

 

The judge went into a fearful passion.

 

"Why, why, you young jackanapes," he roared; "it's a horse-whipping you

want, and you would get it if you were a boy of mine! Disowned you, did

he? And drove you away? Well, he is a fool, too. A good tanning is what

you need, and, by Jove! I have a mind to give it to you," and he shook

his cane threateningly. "Going to join the Yankee army, are you? Join

and be hanged, you idiot! A Shackelford in the Yankee army! I'll,

I'll--" but the judge was too angry to say more.

 

"Now, uncle, don't get in a rage; it's no use. My mind is fully made up.

I shall join the Union army in some capacity."

 

"Get out of my sight, you young idiot, you!" thundered the judge.

 

Just then Calhoun came in. "What's the row?" he asked, looking from one

to the other.

 

"Row, row!" sputtered the judge. "If you were as big a fool as your

cousin there, I would skin you alive."

 

"Glad you have at last come to a full appreciation of my worth," coolly

replied Calhoun. "For years I have had the virtues of my cousin held up

to me as a shining mark to follow. Now, I find I am saving my skin by

surpassing him in the wisdom of this world. Congratulate me, dear

father."

 

"Why, this fool says he is going to enlist in the Yankee army," foamed

the Judge, pointing at Fred.

 

"And this fool says he is going to enlist in the Southern army,"

answered Calhoun, pointing to himself.

 

The judge was sobered instantly. "Calhoun, you don't mean it?" he asked.

 

"Yes, I do mean it," stoutly replied the boy. "Why not? Haven't you been

talking for years of the rights of the South? Are you not doing

everything possible to take Kentucky out of the Union? Haven't you

encouraged the enlistment of soldiers for the South? Then why not I? Why

am I better than others? Father, I don't want to quarrel with you as

Fred has with his father, but I am going into the Southern army, and I

hope with your blessing."

 

The judge was completely sobered. Having his son go to war was so much

different from having some one else's son go.

 

"Do not do anything rash, my son," he said to Calhoun. "When the time

comes if you must go, I will see what can be done for you. As for you,

Fred," he said, "you stay here with Calhoun until I return. I am going

to see your father," and calling for his horse, the judge rode away.

 

It was afternoon before the judge came back. Calling the boys into a

room for a private interview, he said: "Fred, I have been to see your

father, and he is very much chagrined over your disobedience. His fierce

anger is gone, and in its place a deep sorrow. He does not ask you to

give up your principle, but he does ask that you do not enter the

Federal army. You are much too young, to say nothing of other

considerations. You should accept his proposition and go to Europe. We

have come to this conclusion, that if you will go I will send Calhoun

with you. That will be an even stand off. Calhoun wants to enter the

Southern army, you the Northern, so neither section loses anything. You

have both done your duty to your section, and both will have the

pleasure and advantage of a university course in Europe. What do you

say, boys?"

 

"That it is a mean underhanded way to prevent me from entering the

army," flared up Calhoun. "I hope Fred will not accept."

 

"Be careful, boy," said the judge, getting red in the face. "You will

not find me as lenient as Mr. Shackelford has been with Fred. You will

go where I say."

 

Calhoun's temper was up, and there would have been a scene right then

and there if Fred had not interfered.

 

"Uncle," said he, "there is no use of Calhoun and you disagreeing over

this matter. I shall not go to Europe; so far as I am concerned, it is

settled. As for Calhoun entering the army, you must settle that between

you."

 

Calhoun pressed Fred's hand, and whispered, "Good for you, Fred; you

have got me out of a bad scrape. I think father will consent to my going

in the army now."

 

The judge stared at the boys, and then sputtered: "Both of you ought to

be soundly thrashed. But if Fred's mind is made up, it is no use

pursuing the matter further."

 

"I am firmly resolved," answered Fred.

 

"Then," answered the judge, "I will say no more, only, Fred, my house is

open to you. When you get sick of your foolish experiment you can have

a home here. Your father refuses to see you unless you consent to obey."

 

"I thank you, uncle," said Fred, in a low voice, "but I do not think I

shall trouble you much."

 

In justice to Mr. Shackelford, it must be said it was by his request

that Judge Pennington made this offer to Fred. Mr. Shackelford's heart

had softened towards his son, and he did not wish to cast him off

entirely. But the destiny of father and son was to be more closely

interwoven than either thought.

 

Fred remained at his uncle's until the next day. He and Calhoun slept

together or rather occupied the same bed, for they had too much talking

to do to sleep. Both boys were romantic and fond of adventure. Both

longed for the fierce excitement of war. They did not talk as enemies.

They did not realize that they might face each other on the field of

battle. They talked of their oath, and again promised to keep it to the

letter.

 

They were like two brothers, each going on a long journey in different directions. Their parting the next morning was most affectionate, and when Fred rode away he turned his horse's head in the direction of Camp Dick Robinson.