The Lamar register., 1913-02-05
CHAPTR H ..


Outside, the softness OF an Apr1.
night; the verdure of tree and lawn
the climbing roses. already far ad-
sweetly silvered in the moonlight.
Within the great old house apparently
an equal calm.
Yet, neither within nor without was
the night absolutely soundless. Far
away to the southwark the cloudless
horizon. easily visible from the slight
eminence on which the house stood.
was marked by quivering flashes Of
lurid light. From time to time, the
attentive ear might catch the roll. the
roar. the reverberation of heavy sound
like distant thunder-peals intermin-
gled with sharper detonations. The
flashes came from great guns, and the
rolling peals were the sound of the
cannon, the detonations explosions Of
the shells. There was the peace Of
God in the heaven above; there were
the passions of men on the earth be-
meath.
Lights cleaned here and there, shin
ing through the twining rose foliage,
from the windows of the old house,
which stood far back from the street.
From a room on one side OF the hall,
which opened from the broad pillared
portico Of Colonial fashion, a hum of
voices arose.
A group Of women, with nervous
hands and anxious faces. working
while they talked. were picking lint.
tearing linen and cotton for bandages.
Their conversation was not the idle
chatter Of other days. They told sad
stories Of the death OF kings!" How
Tom" and Charles" and Allen" and
Page" and Burton" had gone down
into the Valley of the Shadow OF
Death, whence they had not come
back. How this fort had been ham
mered yesterday. the other, the day
before. How So-and-So's wounds had
been ministered to. How Such-a-One's
needs had been relieved. How the
enemy were drawing closer and clos
Or. and how they were being held back
with courage. which. alasl by that
time was the courage of despair. And
much Of their speech was of their
own kind. Of bereft women and father
less children. And ever as they talked.
the busy fingers few.
Upstairs from one of the front
rooms the light shone dimly through
window partly covered by a half
drawn Venetian blind. One standing
at the side OF the house and listening
would have heard out of the chamber
low meanings, muttered words from
feverish lips and delirious brain. The
meaningless yet awful babble was
broken now and again by words of
tenderness and anguish. Soft hands
were laid on the burning brow of the
poor sufferer within. while a mothers
eyes dropped tears upon bloodstained
bandages and wasted frame.
And now the gentle wind which
swept softly through the trees bore
q sudden sharper. stranger sound
toward the old house in the garden.
The tramp of horse, the creak Of
wheels. the faint juggling of arms and
sabers drew nearer and rose louder.
Sudden words of command punctured
the night. Here came battery, with
out the rattle OF drum or the blare
of bugles, with no sound but its own
galloping It rolled down the street.
Lean. gaunt horses were ridden and
driven by leaner and gaunter men In
dusty, worn, ragged, tattered uniforms
Only the highly polished brass guns
twelve-pounder Napoleons-gleamed
bright in the moonlight.
The sewing women came out on the
porch and the blind of the window
above was lifted and a white-haired
woman stood framed in the light
No. those watchers did not cheer as
the battery swept by on its way to
the front. For one thing. a soldier
lay upstairs dying; for another. they
had passed the time when they
cheered that tattered flag. Now they
wept over 1t as one weeps as he be.
holds for the last time the face Of q
friend who dies. Once they had &C.
claimed It as the sunrise in the morn.
ing. now they watched it silently go
inevitably to the sunset of defeat
The men did not cheer either. They
were not past cheering-oh, no! They
were made Of rougher stun than the
women. and the time would come
when. In final action. they would burst
forth into that strange. wild yell that
struck terror to the hearts of the
hearers. They could cheer even In
the last ditch. even in the jaws of
death-face the end better for their
l..&