"To your home town?" she faltered.
"Yes. To Palmyra."
"Where your brother went to raise a company to fight us--strange, isn't
it?" Her voice had a far-away sound as if she were talking to herself.
"Yes--to fight us," he repeated in low tones.
Again a silence fell between them. He looked steadily into her brown
eyes that were burning now with a strange intensity, tried to speak, and
failed. He caught the gasp of terror in the deep breath with which she
turned from his gaze.
"My chief was bitter against my going--I--I hope you approve--Miss
Betty?" He spoke with pauses which betrayed his excitement.
"Yes, I'm glad----"
She stopped short, turned pale and fumbled at the lace handkerchief she
carried.
"Every brave man who loves the Union must feel as you do to-day--and
go--no matter how hard it may be for those who--for those he leaves at
home----"
She paused in embarrassment at the break she had almost made, and
flushed scarlet.
He leaned close:
"I'm afraid I'm not brave, Miss Betty. I ran with the rest of them
yesterday, ran like a dog for my life"--he paused and caught his
breath--"but I'm not sorry for it now. In the madness of that scramble
to save my skin I had a sudden revelation of why life was sweet----"
He stopped and she scarcely breathed. Her heart seemed to cease beating.
Pages:
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206