"But how is this that I never heard it before? Before I believe this
tale I must have some proof, clear as daylight. Bring me proofs."

"Here they are," said Miriam, drawing from her pocket the free papers
she had been carrying about her person for several days.

Louis grasped them nervously, hastily read them, and then more slowly,
like one who might read a sentence of death to see if there was one word
or sentence on which he might hang a hope of reprieve.

Camilla watched him anxiously, but silently, and when he had finished,
he covered his bowed face with his hands as he said with a deep groan,
"It is true, too true. I see it all. I can never raise my hand against
my mother's race."

He arose like one in a dream, walked slowly to the door and left the
room.

"It was a painful task," said Camilla, with a sigh of relief, as if a
burden had fallen from her soul.

"Yes," said Miriam, "but not so bad as to see him fighting agin his own
color. I'd rather follow him to his grave than see him join that
miserable secesh crew."

"Yes," said Camilla, "It was better than letting him go."

When Louis left the room a thousand conflicting thoughts passed through
his mind. He felt as a mariner at midnight on a moonless sea, who