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VOL. I.
[For the Banner of the .South.]
“Where there’s a Will there’s a
Way.”
BV CARRIE BELL SINCLAIR.
“Where there’s a will there’s a way”—well, I’ll try it,
And take a fresh start in the Battle of Life;
Should one trouble arise, let my courage defy it,
Prove victor, and conquer all care, and all strife.
If there’s work for my hand. I’ll not wait for to
morrow,
But take up the task with a light heart to-day;
And, for every fresh struggle, some comfort I’ll borrow!
By singing this: “Where there’s a will there’s a way ! ’
If I find the path steep from the foot of the hill,
I’ll not lay down my burden and turn from the track,
But remember the motto, and press onward still,
And the way will seem shorter by not looking back
Then, if there are 6tones I must first cast aside,
Or thorns in the way should be piercing my feet,
If I pray for more strength, it will not be denied,
And to master all doubt, and to triumph, is sweet!
If foes I encounter, I’ll brave all their hate,
By showing a heart that can battle with all;
By laughing at sorrow, and smiling at fate,
Determined to brave all the ills that befall!
Once more I'm a hero!—my armor is bright—
I’m in for the conflict, and winning the day;
And, if I press onward I still on to the Right!
While I yet have the will, God will send me the way!
Milledgeville, Ga.
[FOR THE BANNER OF THE SOUTH.]
THE COUDRET MILL.
Translated from “ Le Correspondant.”
BY R. D. TANARUS., OF SOOTH CAROLINA.
[continued.]
VIII.
A CUNNING ONE.
The next day was the market-day of
the Bourg ; Xavier was in the habit of
going there every week that he might
keep himself posted as to the market
value of grain, or perhaps to meet some
of his customers whom he could not
otherwise see. But, to-day, he thought
it necessary that Margaret should go to
the Notary, in order to legalize, in his
presence, the act by which, as his ward,
now of age, and lawfully entitled to take
up the management of her personal pro
perty, she should testify to the co^'f
ness of the accounts submitted’ t>y her
guardian. It was a purely /fcrmm thing,
but as Xavier was and ni9>i hked to be
prepared for contingencies, he did not
wish thw* settlement to be delayed.
uie early morning they set out, to
r,silK to the market-town, which was only
a few miles off.
As they went along, side by side, at
some little distance from the Mill, in
turning a sharp angle of the road, they
came suddenly upon a large cart, piled
up with sacks, and drawn by two horses,
"'hose driver seemed trying to waken the
echoes of the valley by the loud smacking
of his whip, which he flourished inces
santly over their heads.
This blustering wagoner might have been
about thirty years of age. Os medium
height, and very stout, his short thick
neck enclosed in a stiff cravat, out of
which appeared a small head with a very
red face attached to it, surmounted by a
quantity of curly hair the color of flax,
the frizzled mass being partly covered by
the little hat, with the brim turned up,
stuck over the left ear. His gait was
still and awkward—a large watch-key
of white agate, set in silver, hanging from
a watch-guard of red silk from under
his flowered vest, fell over the tops of his
dark green pantaloons, whilst the corner
of a pocket-handkerchief, with a bright
blue and yellow border, was ostentatious
ly spread out, two or three inches above
the pocket of his brown jacket.
“ There,” said Xavier, looking intently
at the figure, “ one could almost declare
that that was”—. Here he hesitated,
not from any uncertainty, however, and
Margaret soon put him at his ease. “One
oould almost declare, grandpapa, that it
"as your Jean Marie Nivard of the other
evening. It is he, sure enough—he is
as easily recognized as a jackdaw.’’
Jean Marie Nivard, who had also seen
the grandfather and granddaughter, im
mediately transferred his whip to the
left hand, and raising the right to his hat,
which he took off, bowed almost to his
knee, with a flourishing movement of his
arm. Then, when he approached to
within a few steps of them, “My best
service to you, Monsieur Coudret, and to
you, young lady ; may I have the honor ?”
said he, in a prim, measured tone, making
a j erking, awkward inclination of his
body, and he drew up the bridle of the
lead horse to stop the team.
“ Good day to you, Jean Marie,” re
plied the miller, visibly embarrassed on
account of his granddaughter, who, on
her part, however, showed the most per
fect sang-froid ; then he continued, just
to say something—“ and where are you
going so early, Jean Marie ?”
“If not disagreeable to you, Monsieur
Coudret, to the Mill—to your mill, unless,
at least, you do not care for my custom.”
“ How so ? on the contrary, I shall be
but too happy.”
“ It is just what I thought,” said Jean
Marie, with the most perfect self-com
placency ; “ as you see, I am taking you
a few bushels to grind.”
“ A few bushels ! You had better say
you are giving me work for two days at
least.”
“ Two days ! You think so, Monsieur
Ooudret ? Do yaw really thi.uk so ?*' salJ
Jean Marie, with an air of annoyance.
il Mafoi! not an hour less,” said the
miller, who took in at a glance the heavy
load in the cart. “ I suppose you do not
intend remaining until it will be finished?”
“ But I do, if not disagreeable to you,
Monsieur Coudret. Do you vot remem
ber the old saying that ‘St Deter never
opens the gates of Heaven to a miller’ ?
Do you believe I trust my wheat
in your keeping? Xo, paxdieu /” and
the young m! u Durst into a great laugh
to show tb« c h e was nofc in earnest.
“ Y' a say well,” said Xavier, with the
hea* i y laugh of the honest man, who feels
htat he is above suspicion, “ but I must
tell you that another cart came to the
Mill this morning; and besides that,
there are two heavy loads that Etienne
brought yesterday; worse still, we left
Luc preparing to pick his mill-stones; so
the Mill will not begin to work well till
the afternoon; and, for your turn, may,
perhaps, have three days to wait!”
“ Diable ! diable /” said Jean Marie,
scratching his ear.
“ But, you must remember, at the Mill
we keep bread, and wine, and refreshment
for those who are hungry, and in a corner
of the granary, perhaps, you may find
some fresh straw for those who are
sleepy.”
“I know it, I know it well, Monsieur
Coudret. It is not the thought of the
life I will lead there that worries me ;
but, it is that I am in haste—in great
haste. You may well conclude that it is
not altogether for family use I have
brought so much grain to be ground at
once. No ; there is a baker who has a
very large custom, who came yesterday
and bought all this wheat from us; but,
on condition that we pay a heavy forfeit
if we do not deliver it ground on an ap
pointed day. My father refused to make
this bargain, but I said to him, ‘ let it go
on, father, Monsieur Coudret is a good
man; he will understand our risk; he will
make the Mill do double work, to help us
along quickly.’ He still hesitated to risk
it, but I didn’t heed him, so I loaded the
cart, and here lam at the Mill. Soon as
the grinding will be over, I return at
once to the city. I think I have made a
good bargain, and it will be the Devil’s
fault if, with your kind assistance, the
affair does not come to a happy conclusion.
I count on you, then, Monsieur Coudret,
to get through as soon as possible.’’
“With pleasure,” replied Xavier. “But,
see, we are going to the market, and will
not be back until late ; so, as we are not
' e O hir from the Mill, perhaps I had
AUGUSTA, GA, JULY 18, 1868.
best return to tell Luc he must try and
give you your turn as soon as the stones
are picked. Yes—l will go—wait!”
•‘Oh, no 1” cried Jean Marie, with an af
fectation of courteous eagerness; “I cannot
permit this—l would rather far, pay the
forfeit to the baker, than cause you the
slightest inconvenience.”
“ Let me go, it will soon be done.”
“ If you attempt anything of the kind,
Monsieur Coudret, I will turn right back
and will take the grain home,” replied
Jean Marie, who threw himself into a
magnificent attitude, “Do vou under
stand ?”
“ Well! Let it be as you please,” said
Xavier, who had not failed to evince his
appreciation of this extreme courtesy,
“ at all events, we will try and not be too
late in our return.”
“ Oh, take your time—suit your con
venience ; I will wait; the baker will
wait; and, if not content, well! we will
pay the fine, Voila! au revoir, Monsieur
Coudret to you and your young lady.
Hue ! Neraud /”
And the heavy cart moved off by one
road, while Xavier and Margaret went
off by another.
“ This is fine, to be sure,” said the
young girl, laughing aloud, after they
had gone a little distance, “ this is fine
for one who is a born-miser! He seems
very grand to-day, this Jean Marie Nivard!
u> pay a fine to save you the least trou
ble ! something has changed him surely.”
Xavier did not think the observation
called for any remark. After this the
grandfather and granddaughter did *not
comment, at least aloud, upon the meet
ing that had just taken place. ■■
Arriving at the market-town, they
went at once to the Notary’s, where they
found the document all ready. Margaret
gave it about as much attention as she
would have bestowed upon a sermon in
Hebrew, and signed, without looking at
the paper.
Then they went over to the grain
market, between which and the tavern,
Xavier divided his time for the next two
or three hours; discussing with one per
son or another the price of corn—the
promise of the harvest—the amount of
toll, &c.
Margaret had been in the habit, when
ever she went to the market with her
grandfather, of leaving him to the tav
ern, and after arranging where they
would meet when it would be time to
return to the Mill, she generally went
from point to point, sometimes to make
some purchase, sometimes to amuse her
self by looking at the display of hand
some goods, but almost always in com
pany of some of the young girls of the
neighborhood, whom she never failed
to meet.
As usual, then, on this day, the grand
father and granddaughter each went
their way; then, when they met again,
they fell into the road to the Mill where
they arrived without once mentioning
the name of Jean Marie Nivard.
But the first face that they saw, on
drawing near the house, was that of
Jean Marie himself, who was walking,
or rather strutting, in the yard, to the
great annoyance of the poultry, which he
terrified by twisting and twirling a hazel
switch which he held. Margaret passed
on before the young man without deign
ing other recognition than a quick nod
of her head to the obsequious salutation
he lavished on her. The old miller
seemed to think more courtesy due to
his guest and patron ; so he stopped
and appeared disposed to enter into con
versation.
Jean Marie understood the movement,
and, without further ceremony, passing
his arm through his, led him in silence
to a corner of the yard, between the wall
and a pile of wood, where no one would
have thought of looking for them. Stop
ping there, he dropt Xavier’s arm, after
drawing his hat still more down on the
left side :
“ Listen, Pere Coudret,” said he, mys
teriously lowering his voice, “ let us
speak little, but let us speak well. What
I have to say is well worth the trouble of
listening to.”
“I am listening,” said the old man,
whose wide stretched eyes bore witness to
the truth of his assertion.
“It is not my habit to speak, from love
of speaking,” said the self-important crea
ture, “ and on this occasion less than
ever. I come then to the point without
delay. You will see.”
“ Yes, let us see.”
“ You know, Pere Coudret, that with
your consent, my father and I came here
to make an application, which has been
but little profit to us.”
“ Ah ! it is not my fault,” began Xavier,
“ and—”
“Stop—be quiet now—if you speak I
will not say another word.”
“Very well, I will not even whisper
again.”
“Ala bonne heure! Ido not tell you
it is your fault, but I say we wasted our
time. I expected it, perhaps—but not
altogether. ’ ’ Here Jean Marie drew him
self up. “ There are some cases where
certain people of certain natures foolishly
set to work the wrong way, while there
are others who, from the first step, know
exactly what to do. This depends on
the man. To be brief, there were many
chances for, and one against me. It has
happened that the chance was against me
1 said to Pere Nivard, when we were
going home, ‘as things have turned out
after this fashion in this affair, I am satis
fied there is some manoeuvre at the bot
tom of it; it cannot be otherwise*—and
the Pere Nivard was of my opinion— ‘ oh,
yes, there must be some manoeuvre at the
bottom of it,’ he said, ‘your eyes are
wide open, my boy; wide—wide!’ And
you shall see it too, Pere Coudret—l
will give you proof of it.”
“ What proof ?” asked the old man,
much excited.
“ Let me tell you—let me speak,”
sharply replied Jean Marie. “ Let
us reason—it is not natural, is it ?
that a young, handsome girl, of fine
temper and disposition, would take the
trouble to turn off all the suitors who
presented themselves to her, beginning
with the one who had little to recommend
him, and ending with the one who is
unexceptionable. No, it is most unnatu
ral !”
“ That is just what I am always trying
to make her understand,” said poor old
Xavier.
“ Let me speak. Yes, everybody
says —for it is no secret in the Canton—
that you would be delighted to have
things turn out otherwise—above all,
when an opportunity offers, which may
never be found again.”
Xavier here wished to say a word,
but Jean Marie would not give him a
chance.
“ Stop—let me talk. This is the rea
son why I said to Pere Nivard yester
day, ‘ May the Devil seize me if I do
not find out the clue to this affair ; if it
does me no good it may help the poor
old Pere Coudret’; but, perhaps, it may
benefit us both; at all events, it shall
never be said that Jean Marie Nivard
will see himself insulted, without find
ing out that there was nothing personal
in the matter. You understand, Pere
Coudret ? One has his own self-respect
to support.”
“ Yes, I comprehend,” said Xavier,
mechanically, somewhat stunned by Jean
Marie’s rapid sentences.
“ And now, when I am working for
myself, perhaps I am working for your
interest, also ; so you must not think
badly of it.”
“ Mon Ibieu /”
” Besides, I am not acting treacherous
ly—l give you honorable notice ; besides,
also, you know I am not a man to give
needless advice, nor to speak much about
it.”
“ I think so, indeed—yes—.”
“ Good ! This morning, then, I piled
up as many sacks as the cart could
bring, that I might have a pretext for
coming to the Mill and staying as long
as possible, so that the young girl might
not suspect anything ; and I will not
deny, that in flourishing my whip over
my horses’ heads this morning, in start
ing, I said to myself, ‘Jean Marie, my
friend, keep your eyes wide open; per
haps you are going now to find your fu
ture wife at the Coudret Mill, no matter
what she do, no matter what she may
say !’ Nor will I deny, that I have not so
entirely thrown away my time since my
arrival at the Mill, as I may seem to
have done. Your absence, and her’s. has
been of great assistance to me. I have
done much work already ; yes, keep
wide awake, keep your wits alive—l have
a plenty when needed. But, enough ! I
will say nothing more at present. Patience,
Pere Coudret; leave everything to Jean
Marie—Jean Marie is often more know-
mg than he pretends to be ; that imagina
ry baker is an invention of his—he is not
afraid of having to pay him the least for
feit ! Do not let your Mill work too fast,
so that I may have ample time. Tell
your boy that I am not a customer to be
preferred to others, and must await my
turn. This w ill have the good effect of
.averting anything like suspicion ; then
we will not seem to have an understand
ing between us. I count on you for this;
this is to be your part in the affair—the
rest concerns myself alone !”
Saying this, Jean Marie passed his
arm again through Xavier’s, and led him
back to the middle of the yard, where he
had just met him. “ You know now,
Pere Coudret, all that I wanted to say to
you—rail!” And, without seeming to
think it possible that the old man could
oppose the least objection to an argument
so well sustained, or resist, in any manner,
a plan so pompously stated, he turned
upon his heel, and twirling his switch, he
reached the interior of the Mill, where,
doubtless, his scheme required his
presence.
Perhaps, to tell the truth, Xavier, at
first, had felt disposed, if not exactly to
resist, at least to examine in detail the
plan of Jean Marie, who had, on his own
self-constituted authority, established him
self at the Mill, to prosecute an investiga
tion on a singularly delicate subject. But,
as soon as he felt convinced that this
young man, being of a thoroughly honest
family, was incapable of trying any ex
periment that might give matter for scan
dal, Xavier did not think he ran much
risk in letting him try to throw some
light on the great mystery, which he him
self was the first to deplore. Then, his
tolerance of it, by no means implied that
he gave up his own right of watchful
ness, or of control over the steps pro
posed by Jean Marie, and he felt that
he was there to check him when ne
cessary.
And, while seeming to leave him free
to act, and to look about, he also pro
mised himself to watch his every move
ment with most scrupulous attention.
IX.
THE CAMPAIGN BEGUN.
“ There is already some work done,”
Jean Marie had said, who, far from
awaiting the return of the grandfather
and granddaughter to commence opera
tions, had thought, on the contrary, that
this lucky absence most happily favored
the plan he had mapped out for him
self.
This wise personage had concluded
that the preliminaries of the inquest he
was about entering upon, should com
mence with the habitues of the establish
ment; and the movements of the old man
and the young girl being absolutely in
dependent of the every da} routine of
the Mill, it followed that Jean Marie
was more at liberty to carry out his
scheme.
No. 18.
