pride of Valois. From Kansas, from court and Congress, from the
far East, the murmur of the "irrepressible conflict" grows nearer.
Maxime Valois is in correspondence with the head of his family.
While at Lagunitas, the Creole pushes on his works of improvement.
He dreams at night strange dreams of more brilliant successes. Of
a new flag and the triumph of the beloved cause. He will be called
as a trusted Southron into the councils of the coast. Will they
cut it off under the Lone Star flag? This appeals to his ambition.

There are omens everywhere. The Free-State Democrats must be
suppressed. The South must and shall rule.

He often dreams if war and tumult will ever roll, in flame and fire,
over the West. The mists of the future veil his eyes. He waits the
signal from the South. All over California, the wealth of the land
peeps through its surface gilding. There are no clouds yet upon
the local future. No burning local questions at issue here, save
the aversion of the two sections, distrustful of each other.

It needs only the mad attack of John Brown upon Virginia's
slave-keepers to loose the passions of the dwellers by the Pacific.
Martyr or murderer, sage or fanatic, Brown struck the blows which
broke the bonds of the brotherhood of the Revolution. From the year
1858, the breach becomes too great to bridge. Secretly, Southern
plans are perfected to control the West. While the conspiracy
slowly moves on, the haughtiness of private intercourse admits of
no peaceable reunion. Active correspondence between officials, cool
calculations of future resources, and the elevation to prominent
places of men pledged to the South, are the rapid steps of the
maturing plans. On the threshold of war.