could he have looked over the veiled mysteries of thirty years
to come. It was beyond human ken. Even he might have blenched at
the strange life-path fate would lead him over. Over battle-fields
where the Southern Cross rises and falls like Mokanna's banner, back
across deserts, to die under the deadly aim of an obscure minion
of the government he sought to pull down. After thirty years, David
S. Terry, judge, general, and champion of the South, was destined
to die at the feet of his brother-judge, whose pathway inclined
Northwardly from that ill-starred moment.

Maxime Valois saw in the monster memorial meeting on the plaza,
that the cause of the South was doomed in the West. While Baker's
silver voice rises in eulogy over Broderick, the Louisianian sees
a menace in the stern faces of twenty thousand listeners. The shade
of the murdered mechanic-senator hovers at their local feast, a
royal Banquo, shadowy father of political kings yet to be.

The clarion press assail the awful deed. Boldly, the opponents of
slavery draw out in the community. There is henceforth no room for
treason on the Western coast. Only covert conspiracy can neutralize
the popular wave following Broderick's death. Dissension rages until
the fever of the Lincoln campaign excites the entire community. The
pony express flying eastward, the rapidly approaching telegraph,
the southern overland mail with the other line across the plains,
bring the news of Eastern excitement. Election battles, Southern
menace, and the tidings of the triumph of Republican principles,
reach the Pacific. Abraham Lincoln is the elected President.

Valois is heavy-hearted when he learns of the victory of freedom
at the polls. He would be glad of some broad question on which to