CHAPTER LV

THE SOUTHERN PLOT

America stood on war's threshold. Even in the West one felt its imminence. The Republican victory had been like a slap in the face to slave-holding democracy. Its strongholds were secretly arming, mobilizing, drilling. And though Lincoln wisely held his peace--warned all the States which hummed with wild secession talk that their aggression alone could disrupt the Union--the wily Stanton, through the machinery of the War Department, prepared with quiet grimness for the coming struggle.

Herbert Waters, after Broderick's death, returned to Windham's office. He was a full-fledged lawyer now, more of a partner than an employee. Waters was of Southern antecedents, a native of Kentucky, a friend, almost a protégé, of General Albert Sydney Johnson, commanding the military district of the Pacific.

One evening in January, 1861, he dined with the Windhams. Early in the evening Benito was called out to the bedside of an ailing client, who desired him to write a will. After he was gone, young Waters turned to Alice.

"You were a friend of Mr. Broderick's," he said impulsively. "He often spoke of you ... and once, not long before he died, he said to me: 'Herbert, when your soul's in trouble, go to Alice Windham ...'"

Mrs. Windham put aside her knitting rather hastily, rose and walked to the window. She made no answer.

Presently the boy continued: "That time has come--now--Mrs. Windham."

Alice crossed the room and laid a hand upon his shoulder. "Herbert! What's the matter?"

His voice sank almost to a whisper. "There's a plot to overthrow the government in California. I'm a part of it.... I don't know what to do."

"You don't mean ... you're a traitor?" she asked unbelievably.

"I suppose I am or must be--to some one," he said wearily. "I'm caught in a net, Mrs. Windham. Will you help me get out? Advise me ... as you did him. Oh, I know what you meant to Mr. Broderick. Your faith, your counsel!"

"Please," said Alice sharply. "We won't speak of that. What can I do for YOU?"

"I beg your pardon. I'm a thoughtless ass ... that's why I got into the pickle probably. They asked me to join...."

"They? Who?" she asked. "Is he--Benito--?"

"Oh, no, Benito's out of it completely. I'm a Southern boy, you know. That's why they let me in; a lot of them have money. A man we call 'The President' is our chief. And there's a committee of thirty, each of whom is pledged to organize a fighting force; a hundred men."

Waters hesitated. "I took an oath to keep this all a secret ... but I'll trust you, Mrs. Windham. You've got to know something about it.... These men are hired desperadoes or adventurers. They know there's fighting to be done; they've no scruples.... Meanwhile they're well paid, ostensibly engaged in various peaceful occupations all around the bay. When our President gives the order they'll be massed--three thousand of 'em; well armed, drilled--professional fighters. You can see what'll happen...."

"You mean they'll seize the forts ... deliver us to the enemy?" she spoke aghast.

"I'm afraid you're right, Mrs. Windham."

"Has your--ah--society approached General Johnson?"

"Not yet--they're a little afraid of him."

Alice Windham thought a moment. "When is your next meeting?"

"Tomorrow. We are called by word of mouth. I've just received my summons."

"Well, then," Alice told him, "make a motion--or whatever you call it--that the General be approached, sounded. They'll appoint a committee. They'll put you on it, of course. Thus you can apprise him of the plot without violating your oath. I don't believe he will aid you, for that means betraying his trust.... But if he should--come back to me. We will have to act quickly."

* * * * *

A fortnight passed. Alice had learned by adroit questioning that the federal army was a purely negligible defensive force.

An attack would result in the easy plundering of this storehouse as well as the militia armories of San Francisco. Thus equipped, an army could be organized out of California's Southern sympathizers, who would beat down all resistance, loot the treasury of its gold and perhaps align the State with Slavery's Cause.

Rebellion, civil warfare loomed with all its horrors. If the plot that Waters had described were carried through there would be bloodshed in the city. Her husband had gone to Sacramento on business. Suppose it came tonight!

Anxiously Alice hovered near the cot where ten-year Robert slept.

There came a knock at the door.

"Who's there?" she asked, hand upon the bolt. Then, with an exclamation of relief, she opened it. Admitted Herbert Waters.

He was smiling. "I took your advice.... It worked."

She pushed a chair toward the hearth. "Sit there," she ordered. "Tell me all about it."

Waters gazed into the fire half abstractedly. "Three of us were named," he said, "to have a conference with General Johnson." He turned to her, his eyes aglow, "I'll never forget that meeting. He asked us to be seated with his usual courtesy. Then he said, quite matter-of-factly ... in an off-hand sort of way, 'There's something I want to mention before we go further. I've heard some foolish talk about attempts to seize the strongholds of the government under my charge. So I've prepared for all emergencies.' His eyes flashed as he added, 'I will defend the property of the United States with every resource at my command, with the last drop of blood in my body. Tell that to your Southern friends.'"

"And your plot?"

"It's been abandoned."

"Thank God," Alice exclaimed fervently.

"And thank yourself a little," he commented, smiling.

"General Johnson is a brave and honorable gentleman," Alice said. "I wonder--who could have informed him?"

Waters looked at her quickly. But he did not voice the thought upon his tongue.

* * * * *

April 24 General E.V. Sumner arrived with orders to take charge of the department of the Pacific. General Johnson's resignation was already on its way to Washington.

On the following morning came the news that Southern forces had attacked Fort Sumpter.

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