broken up. He began to receive threats and anonymous letters, such as
these: "Louis Lecroix, you are a doomed man. We are determined to
tolerate no scalawags, nor carpetbaggers among us. Beware, the sacred
serpent has hissed."

But Louis, brave and resolute, kept on the even tenor of his way,
although he never left his home without some forebodings that he tried
in vain to cast off. But his young wife being less in contact with the
brutal elements of society in that sin-cursed region, did not comprehend
the danger as Louis did, and yet she could not help feeling anxious for
her husband's safety.

They never parted without her looking after him with a sigh, and then
turning to her school, or whatever work or reading she had on her hand,
she would strive to suppress her heart's forebodings. But the storm
about to burst and to darken forever the sunshine of that home was
destined to fall on that fair young head.

Imperative business called Louis from home for one night. Minnie stood
at the door and said, "Louis, I hate to have you go. I have been feeling
so badly here lately, as if something was going to happen. Come home as
soon as you can."

"I will, darling," he said, kissing her tenderly again and again. "I do
feel rather loath to leave you, but death is every where, always lurking
in ambush. A man may escape from an earthquake to be strangled by a
hair. So, darling, keep in good spirits till I come."

Minnie stood at the door watching him till he was out of sight, and then
turning to her mother with a sigh, she said, "What a wretched state of