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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.