The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1902-11-28

sin would-be friend, and melted TO ner IN
stantly. 1t was that, though they rarely
spoke his name, that led TO the letters now
passing frequently between them. Ii was
through that correspondence the slsterhood
began that despite trial and trouble. proved
eventually so sure an alliance In time OF
need.
But though Elinor wrote in many page
of her brother, and in only few referred
TO Paul-and then only as he or MIN -
Rosalie would write only of the latter.
Ordinarily this would have led TO resent
ment and breach Now 1t did not for
what Rosalie had to say was stirring new
hope into the sombre current OF the West
ern girls monotonous life. Rosalie had
amazed and rejoiced her, about the end or
october, by the assurance that she be-
lieved Captain Lamar to be totally mis-
taken. 1t was true, she admitted, that
Paul Ladue had not been seen with Ewells
division. but neither had Ewell. as yet-for
the latter had not become accustomed to
cork leg-yet she had tidings from
''friends'-who. she would not say-that
Paul Ladue. was still alive when borne
from the awful front of Gibbons guns. then
belching canister in double rounds. More
dead than alive he looked" said her in
formant, but while she bad no tidings of
his present whereabouts, neither was there
any record of his death.
All this was presently sent to Fred on the
Rappahannock, and made him the more
eager TO communicate with some one
could speak advisedly. But though there
were places near the fords up stream where
lhc ScNdlIy NeuetleS sat lOUS HOuTS III
saddle, facing. and often within hailing
distance of each other, the orders against
communication of any kind had become
exacting, for ii was evident that Burnside
was marshaling his grand division for
move.
In the early summer time, when he hated
TO leave the front and longed to push on to
Richmond or Charlottesville, Benton had
been summoned to Washington. Now.
when he longed TO go to Washington, there
was prospect of a midwinter dash across
hn Dol l.r. IA
was sorely disquietlng. Rosalie would not
write. Jack, in prison camp, could not,
except to kindred, and the doctor evidently
shrank from writing. 1t was a winter of
courtS-martial at the capital, and several
such tribunals were in session, trying Of
heers OF various grades. Many new regi-
ments had come and were held about the
city until suitably drilled and disciplined.
As a consequence the avenues again were
awe with uniforms, the hotels crowded,
and many thrifty households were ''coin-
ing money taking boarders. Mention has
been made to DR.. Chlton's sister, with
whom they were again dwelling after their
return from the summer at the sea ashore.
Being only moderately well-to-do and be-
sieged with applications, she had yielded
to pressure and let two of her rooms to
otlcers soJourning in the city. Then one
OF these. ordered West. begged leave to
present successor, major of a new regi-
ment, who, being smart" lawyer had
been assigned to duty as Judge advocate of
court for the trial of officers of rank
that McKinnon had been appointed major
of a newly-raised regiment and ordered
with II to Annapolis, Fred Benton felt, so
great was his antipathy, a vague sensa-
weeks later, when Colonel Golf, of the
"teenth, came \down to pay the Iron
d Brigade ga two days, visit the young staff
Mckinnon had just found domicile under
the same roof that shielded Dr. Chiffon and
the lady OF his love 1t meant mischief
% hnxx
Kinnon, though he hated his former part
ner, the Squire, hated Elinor for her scorn
or him, hated Ladue for the preference
she had ever shown that dreamy, sweet
natured fellow. and presumably hated him.
t'red-how could Mckinnon injure him or
those he loved?
tried to teach himself to regard it, and
nothing more, but stranger still were the
freaks not yet unfolded. Fred Benton was
oy no means the first nor by any manner
OF means the last soldier to learn that the
presence OF secret and insidious foe
wnether In camp or court, in the depart-
m int,nt OF love or that of war; works untold
INJURY 10 the absent, and there is no foe
more bitter than he who deals the original
wrong.
One bleak December morning Benton had
RIDDEN with his general down the river
bank on the Stafford side and sat watching
the work of the engineers. The pontoon
wagons were being run TO the front, and
many an officer and man looked ar the
heavy. unga.nly boats and the long loads
of balk and chess, then studied the distant
line OF heights across the stream, saving
little, but thinking much. Whoever sought
to storm that crest had a precious Job on
hand, was An expurgation of the way in
which the average veteran expressed his
individual views. Most of the generals and
the staff were comparatively strange to
our Badger regular. Most of them were
Eastern men, and not quite so ready as he
to think the Western brigade the peer of
any in the army. He had kept his Views tn
himself. : q off
few occasions to take up the cudgefs i'm
defense of his comrades when he found
or mischief at camp fire or mess table. The
| social atmosphere was far from being as
| congenial as in the little military family
with which he entered service. He sorely
missed the companionship and guidance of
| Carver, especially. He sometimes sat In
silence, marveling much at the contrast
| between the tone of talk i'm the old staff
and this in the new. Under his own gem
| eral as he still thought of him. there was
| no such thing as criticism of superiors or
| condemnation of equals. Here in his new
| environment there was little else. The
| new division commander. to whose service
| he was assigned, had confidence, apparent
| ly, in the skill and judgment of but few
| men above him in grade. and none that
gave promise of rising TO equal higher
| rank. He fairly suffered at the sound of q
| word of praise for other generals deeds or
| methods, and Benton had enthusiastic lik-
| ing for as many as ten, and this exceeded
his commanders list by nine exactly
Brave, bumptious and vain the chief was
forever sneering or swearing at his fell
| lows, and scawling on such of his staff as
presumed to even favorably mention an
| other leader. 1t had caused more than one
| unpleasantness at table. 1t had intensified
the generals faint dislike for. Benton; for.
| unlike the rest of the staff, the young fell
| low would not sit and swallow whole the
/ chieftains scathing comments on other
| chiefs whom he had known, and thereby
| Benton showed how easy ii was with
| greater knowledge to have less wisdom. In
| fine, 1.-The winter of our discomfort" was
| wearing on our young staff officer in a
| him much was that, when he most longed
| to spend his leisure hours with old friends
| of the Iron Brigade. he could not. because
| IL seemed to irritate the chief. Then they
| in turn seemed to feel the consequent de-
| lection, and twitted him with neglect OF
| them because he'd got so high" Take II
| all in all, thought Benton, promotion had
brought him anything but bliss; and now
| when he would have given worlds to ge,
| to Washington, not for worlds could he ash
| for even a week of lease. Burnside was
| planning an assault in force. Those pom.
| toon trains, at half dozen hidden points
| along the Stafford shore, unerringly told
| the story.
And while seated in saddle, shivering
bit in the raw wind blowing In the dis
| tant Chesapeake, and wishing the chic
| would quit his comments on the orders o
the corps commander and trot home to din
| ner Benton caught sight of little column
| of cavalry riding dejectedly In from tn
| far left flank. Horses looked jaded. mei
| disguised and three or four prisoners il
| their wake looked worst of all. ''Wher
d've s'pose those damfools have com
| FROM" asked the general, cheerfully. Cap
| tain he cried. hailing the officer i'm com