CHAPTER Fourteenth.
"The more the bold, the bustling, and the bad, Press to usurp the reins of power, the more Behooves it virtue, with indignant zeal, To check their combination." -- THOMSON The spirit of resistance was now fully aroused within the breasts of our friends of Ion and the Oaks.

Mr.Travilla's was a type of the American character; he would bear long with his injuries, vexations, encroachments upon his rights, but when once the end of his forbearance was reached, woe to the aggressor; for he would find himself opposed by a man of great resources, unconquerable determination and undaunted courage.
His measures were taken quietly, but with promptness and energy.

He had been seeking proofs of the identity of the raiders, and found them in the case of one of the party; whose gait had been recognized by several, his voice by one or two, while the mark of his bloody hand laid upon the clothing of one of the women as he roughly pushed her out of his way, seemed to furnish the strongest circumstantial evidence against him.
George Boyd's right hand had been maimed in a peculiar manner during the war, and this bloody mark upon the woman's night-dress was its exact imprint.
Already Mr.Travilla had procured his arrest, and had him imprisoned for trial, in the county jail.
Yet this was but a small part of the day's work: lumber had been ordered, and men engaged for the rebuilding of the school-house; merchandise also to replace the furniture and clothing destroyed; and arms for every man at the quarter capable of using them.
All this Elsie knew and approved, as did her father and brother.

For Mrs.Carrington's sake they deeply regretted that Boyd was implicated in the outrage; but all agreed that justice must have its course.
The question had been mooted in both families whether any or all of them should leave the South until the restoration of law and order should render it a safe abiding place for honest, peaceable folk, but unanimously decided in the negative.
The gentlemen scorned to fly from the desperadoes and resign to their despotic rule their poor dependents and the land of their love; nay they would stay and defend both to the utmost of their power; and the wives upheld their husbands in their determination and refused to leave them to meet the peril alone.
Returning from the burial of Uncle Mose, Mr.Dinsmore and Horace spent an hour at Ion before riding back to the Oaks.
The three gentlemen were in the library earnestly discussing the state of affairs, when Elsie, coming down from seeing her little ones settled for the night, heard the sound of wheels in the avenue, and stepping to the door saw the Ashlands carriage just drawing up in front of it.
The vehicle had scarcely come to a standstill ere its door was thrown hastily open and the elder Mrs.Carrington alighted.
Elsie sprang to meet her with outstretched arms, and the exclamation, "My dear old friend!" though her heart beat quickly, her cheek crimsoned, and tears filled her eyes.
The old lady, speechless with grief, fell upon her neck and wept there silently for a moment; then low and gaspingly, in a voice broken with sobs, "I--have--come to--ask about--George," she said, "can it, oh can it be that he has done this dreadful thing ?" and shuddering she hid her face on Elsie's shoulder her slight frame shaken with the sobs she vainly strove to suppress.
"Dear Mrs.Carrington, I am so sorry, so _very_ sorry to think it," Elsie said, in a voice full of tears, "my heart aches for you who love him so; you who have been so sorely afflicted: may the Lord give you strength to bear up under this new trial." "He will! he does! My sister's son! oh tis sad, 'tis heart-breaking! But the proofs: what are they ?" Elsie named them; first drawing her friend to a seat where she supported her with her arm.
"Yes, yes, his voice, his gait are both peculiar, and--his hand.

Let me see that--that garment." Leading her into a private room, and seating her comfortably there Elsie had it brought and laid before her.
Mrs.Carrington gave it one glance, and motioning it away with a look and gesture of horror, dropped her face into her hands and groaned aloud.
Elsie kneeling by her side, clasped her arms about her and wept with her.
"A slayer of the weak and helpless--a murderer--a midnight assassin!" groaned the half distracted aunt.
"May there not possibly be some mistake.