The old woman gazed after him silently until he disappeared,
and then gave a look across to where the Mills cabin peeped
from among the pines, which was full of hate.
. . . . .
The fish-fry at which Darby Stanley had first fought the Mills boys
and then pulled one of them out of the river, had been given
by one of the county candidates for election as delegate to a convention
which was to be held at the capital, and possibly the division of sentiment
in the district between the Millses and Little Darby was as much due
to political as to personal feeling; for the sides were growing
more and more tightly drawn, and the Millses, as usual, were on one side
and Little Darby on the other; and both sides had strong adherents.
The question was on one side, Secession, with probable war; and on the other,
the Union as it was. The Millses were for the candidate who advocated
the latter, and Little Darby was for him who wanted secession.
Both candidates were men of position and popularity, the one a young man
and the other older, and both were neighbors.
The older man was elected, and shortly the question became imminent,
and all the talk about the Cross-roads was of war. As time had worn on,
Little Darby, always silent, had become more and more so,
and seemed to be growing morose.
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