“Georgiana,” I said at length, softly.  “It’s all in self-defence.  I believe you promised to marry me in self-defence.”

“I did!” she said, promptly.

“Well, I certainly asked you in self-defence, Miss Cobb,” I replied.  “And now in a few days, according to the usage of my time, I am going to take your life—­even at the peril of my own.  If you desire, it is your privilege to examine the deadly weapons before the hour of actual combat,” and I held out my arms to her appealingly.

She bent her body delicately aside, as always.  “I am upset,” she said, discouragingly.  “You have been abusing Kentucky.”

“Ah, that is the trouble!” I answered.  “You wish me to become more interested in my fellow-creatures.  And then you will not let me speak of what they do.  And the other day you told me that I am not perfectly natural with anything but nature.  Nature is the only thing that is perfectly natural with me.  When I study nature there are no delicate or dangerous or forbidden subjects.  The trees have no evasions.  The weeds are honest.  Running water is not trying to escape.  The sunsets are not colored with hypocrisy.  The lightning is not revenge.  Everything stands forth in the sincerity of its being, and nature invites me to exercise the absolute liberty of my mind upon all life.  I am bidden to master and proclaim whatsoever truth she has fitted me to grasp.  If I am worthy to investigate, none are offended; if I should be wise enough to discover any law of creation, the entire world would express its thanks.  Imagine my being assassinated because I had published a complete report upon the life and habits of the field-mouse!”

“If one mouse published a report on the life and habits of another, there’d be a fight all over the field,” said Georgiana.

“A ridiculous extreme,” I replied.  “But after you have grown used to study nature with absolute freedom and absolute peace, think how human life repels you.  You may not investigate, you may not speak out, you may not even think, you may not even feel.  You are not allowed to reveal what is concealed, and you are required to conceal what is revealed.  Natural!  Have you ever known any two men to be perfectly natural with each other except when they were fighting?  As for the men that I associate with every day, they weigh their words out to one another as the apothecary weighs his poisons, or the grocer his gunpowder.”

“You forget,” said Georgiana, “that we are living in a very extraordinary time, when everybody is sensitive and excited.”

“It is so always and everywhere,” I replied.  “You may never study life as you study nature.  With men you must take your choice:  liberty for your mind and a prison for your body; liberty for your body and a prison for your mind.  Nearly all people choose the latter; we know what becomes of the few who do not.”

But this reference to the times led us to speak slowly and solemnly of what all men now are speaking—­war that must come between the North and the South.  We agreed that it would come from each side as a blazing torch to Kentucky, which lies between the two and is divided between the two in love and hate—­to Kentucky, where the ideal of a soldier’s life is always the ideal of a man’s duty and utmost glory.