THE

 DRUMMER BOY

 by

 J. T. TROWBRIDGE

 NEW YORK HURST & COMPANY PUBLISHERS

 J. T. TROWBRIDGE SERIES UNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUME By J. T. TROWBRIDGE

 Coupon Bonds. Cudjo's Cave. Drummer Boy, The. Martin Merryvale, His X Mark. Lucy Arlyn. Father Bright Hopes. Neighbor Jackwood. Three Scouts, The. 

 _Price, postpaid, 50˘. Each, or any three books for $1. 25_

 HURST & COMPANY Publishers, New York

 CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER PAGE

 I. Frank at Home 5

 II. Off to the War 12

 III. Under Canvas 21

 IV. The old Drummer and the new Drum 32

 V. Fun in Camp 41

 VI. Breaking Camp 51

 VII. Through Boston 59

 VIII. Annapolis 71

 IX. Thanksgiving in Camp 81

 X. Frank's Progress 89

 XI. A Christmas Frolic 93

 XII. The Secessionist's Turkeys 105

 XIII. The Expedition Moves 118

 XIV. The Voyage and the Storm 125

 XV. Hatterns Inlet 134

 XVI. How Frank lost his Watch 143

 XVII. In which Frank sees strange Things 151

 XVIII. Bitter Things 161

 XIX. Seth gets "Riled" 170

 XX. Sunday before the Battle 178

 XXI. Up the Sound 187

 XXII. The Attack of the Gunboats 194

 XXIII. The Troops disembark. --The Island 201

 XXIV. The Bivouac 206

 XXV. Atwater 212

 XXVI. Old Sinjin 219

 XXVII. The Skirmish 225

 XXVII. Jack Winch's Catastrophe 231

 XXIX. How Frank got News of his Brother 238

 XXX. The Boys meet an old Acquaintance 248

 XXXI. "Victory or Death!" 255

 XXXII. After the Battle 261

XXXIII. A Friend in need 268

 XXXIV. The Hospital 273

 XXXV. Conclusion 279

 FRANK MANLY, THE DRUMMER BOY. 

 I. 

 FRANK AT HOME. 

One evening, in the month of October, 1861, the Manly family weregathered together in their little sitting-room, discussing a question ofthe most serious importance to all of them, and to Frank in particular. Mrs. Manly sat by the table, pretending to sew; but now and then thetears rushed into her eyes, and dropped upon her work, in spite of allshe could do to keep them back. Frank watched her with a swelling breast, sorry to see his mother so grieved, and yet glad in one little corner ofhis heart; for, although she had declared that she could not think ofgranting his request, he knew well, by those tears of hers, that she wasalready thinking of granting it. 

"A pretty soldier you'll make, Frank!" said Helen, his elder sister, laughing at his ambition. "You never fired a gun in your life; and if youshould see a rebel, you wouldn't know which end of the gun to point athim, you'd be so frightened. "

"Yes, I know it, " retorted Frank, stoutly, determined not to be dissuadedfrom his purpose either by entreaties or ridicule; "and for that reason Iam going to enlist as a drummer boy. "

"Well, " exclaimed Helen, "your hands will tremble so, no doubt you canroll the drumsticks admirably. "

"Yes, to be sure, " replied Frank, with a meaning smile; for he thoughtwithin himself, "If she really thinks I am such a coward, never mind;she'll learn better some day. "

"O, don't go to war, dear Frank, " pleaded, in a low, sweet voice, hisyounger sister, little Hattie, the invalid, who lay upon the lounge, listening with painful interest to the conversation; "do, brother, stayat home with me. "

That affectionate appeal touched the boy's heart more deeply than hismother's tears, his elder sister's ridicule, and his father's opposition, all combined. He knelt down by little Hattie's side, put his arms abouther neck, and kissed her. 

"But somebody must go and fight, little sister, " he said, as soon as hecould choke back his tears. "The rebels are trying to overthrow thegovernment; and you wouldn't keep me at home--would you?--when it needsthe services of every true patriot?"

"Which of the newspapers did you get that speech out of?" asked Helen. "If Jeff Davis could hear you, I think he'd give up the Confederacy atonce. He would say, 'It's no use, since Young America has spoken. '"

"Yes; like the coon in the tree, when he saw Colonel Crockett taking aimat him, " added Frank: "says the coon, 'Don't shoot! If it's you, colonel, I'll come down!' And I tell ye, " cried the boy, enthusiastically, "there's something besides a joke in it. Jeff'll be glad to come down outof his tree, before we hang him on it. "

"But if you go to war, Frank, " exclaimed the little invalid, from herpillow, "you will be shot. "

"I expect to be shot at a few times, " he replied; "but every man that'sshot at isn't shot, sissy; and every man that's shot isn't killed; andevery man that's killed isn't dead--if what the Bible says is true. "

"O my son, " said Mrs. Manly, regarding him with affectionate earnestness, "do you know what you say? have you considered it well?"

"Yes, " said Frank, "I've thought it all over. It hasn't been out of mythoughts, day or night, this ever so long; though I was determined not toopen my lips about it to any one, till my mind was made up. I know fiveor six that have enlisted, and I'm just as well able to serve my countryas any of them. I believe I can go through all the hardships any of themcan. And though Helen laughs at me now for a coward, before I've been ina fight, she won't laugh at me afterwards. " But here the lad's voicebroke, and he dashed a tear from his eye. 

"No, no, Frank, " said Helen, remorsefully, thinking suddenly of thosewhose brothers have gone forth bravely to battle, and never come homeagain. And she saw in imagination her own dear, brave, loving brothercarried bleeding from the field, his bright, handsome face deathly pale, the eyes that now beamed so hopefully and tenderly, closing--perhapsforever. "Forgive my jokes, Frank; but you are too young to go to war. Wehave lost one brother by secession, and we can't afford to lose another. "

She alluded to George, the oldest of the children, who had been severalyears in the Carolinas; who had married a wife there, and become aslave-owner; and who, when the war broke out, forgot his native north, and the free institutions under which he had been bred, to side with thesouth and slavery. This had proved a source of deep grief to his parents;not because the pecuniary support they had derived from him, up to thefall of Fort Sumter, was now cut off, greatly to their distress, --forthey were poor, --but because, when he saw the Union flag fall atCharleston, he had written home that it was a glorious sight; and theyknew that the love of his wife, and the love of his property, had madehim a traitor to his country. 

"If I've a brother enlisted on the wrong side, " said Frank, "so much themore reason that I should enlist on the right side. And I am not so youngbut that I can be doing something for my country, and something for youhere at home, at the same time. If I volunteer, you will be allowed stateaid, and I mean to send home all my pay, to the last dollar. I wish youwould tell me, father, that I can have your consent. "

Mr. Manly sat in his easy-chair, with his legs crossed, his hands pressedtogether, and his head sunk upon his breast. For a long time he had notspoken. He was a feeble man, who had not succeeded well in the businessof life; his great fault being that he always relied too much uponothers, and not enough upon himself. The result was, that his wife hadbecome more the head of the family than he was, and every importantquestion of this kind, as Frank well knew, was referred to her fordecision. 

"O, I don't know, I don't know, my son, " Mr. Manly groaned; and, uncrossing his legs, he crossed them again in another posture. "I havesaid all I can; now you must talk with your mother. "

"There, mother, " said Frank, who had got the answer he expected, and nowproceeded to make good use of it; "father is willing, you see. All I wantnow is for you to say yes. I must go and enlist to-morrow, if I mean toget into the same company with the other boys; and I'm sure you'd ratherI'd go with the fellows I know, than with strangers. We are going tobefriend each other, and stand by each other to the last. "

"Some of them, I am afraid, are not such persons as I would wish to haveyou on very intimate terms with, any where, my child, " answered Mrs. Manly; "for there is one danger I should dread for you worse than thechances of the battle-field. "

"What's that?"

"That you might be led away by bad company. To have you become corruptedby their evil influences--to know that my boy was no longer the pure, truthful child he was; that he would blush to have his sisters know hishabits and companions; to see him come home, if he ever does, recklessand dissipated--O, I could endure any thing, even his death, better thanthat. "

"Well, " exclaimed Frank, filled with pain, almost with indignation, atthe thought of any one, especially his mother, suspecting him of suchbaseness, "there's one thing--you shall hear of my death, before you hearof my drinking, or gambling, or swearing, or any thing of that kind. Ipromise you that. "

"Where is your Testament, my son?" asked his mother. 

"Here it is. "

"Have you a pencil?"

"He may take mine, " said Hattie. 

"Now write on this blank leaf what you have just promised. "

Mrs. Manly spoke with a solemn and tender earnestness which made Franktremble, as he obeyed; for he felt now that her consent was certain, andthat the words he was writing were a sacred pledge. 

"Now read what you have written, so that we can all hear what youpromise, and remember it when you are away. "

After some bashful hesitation, Frank took courage, and read. A longsilence followed. Little Hattie on the lounge was crying. 

"But you ought to keep this--for I make the promise to you, " he said, reflecting that he had used his own Testament to write in. 

"No, you are to keep it, " said his mother, "for I'm afraid we shallremember your promise a great deal better than you will. "

"No, you won't!" cried Frank, full of resolution. "I shall keep thatpromise to the letter. "

Mrs. Manly took the Testament, read over the pledge carefully, and wroteunder it a little prayer. 

"Now, " said she, "go to your room, and read there what I have written. Then go to bed, and try to sleep. We all need rest--for to-morrow. "

"O! and you give your consent?"

"My son, " said Mrs. Manly, holding his hand, and looking into his facewith affectionate, misty eyes, "it is right that you should do somethingfor your family, for we need your help. Your little sister is sick, yourfather is feeble, and I--my hand may fail any day. And it is right thatyou should wish to do something for your country; and, but that you areso young, so very young, I should not have opposed you at all. As it is, I shall not oppose you any more. Think of it well, if you have not doneso already. Consider the hardships, the dangers--every thing. Then decidefor yourself. I intrust you, I give you into the hands of our heavenlyFather. "

She folded him to her heart, kissing him and weeping. Frank then kissedhis sisters good-night, his resolution almost failing him, and his heartalmost bursting with the thought that this might be the last evening hewould ever be with them, or kiss them good-night. 

 II. 

 OFF TO THE WAR. 

It was a calm, clear October night. The moonlight streamed through thewindow of Frank's room, an he lay in bed, thinking of the evening thatwas past, and of the morning that was to come. Little Willie, his youngerbrother, was sleeping sweetly at his side. He had heard his sisters comeup stairs and go to bed in the room next to his; and they were conversingnow in low tones, --about him he was sure. 

Would he ever sleep in that nice warm bed again? Would he ever again folddear little Willie in his arms, and feel his dewy cheek against his own, as he did now? What was the future that awaited him? Who would fill hismother's place when he was gone from her? He had read over the prayer shewrote for him; it was still fresh in his thoughts, and he repeated it nowto himself in the silence of the moonlit chamber. 

When he opened his eyes, he saw a white shape enter softly and approachhis bedside. There it stood in the moonlight, white and still. Was it aghost? Was it an angel? Frank was not afraid. 

"Mother!"

"Are you awake, my darling?"

"O, yes, mother. I haven't slept at all. "

"I didn't mean to awake you, if you were asleep, " she said, kneeling downbeside him. "But I could not sleep; and I thought I would come and lookat you, and kiss you once more; for perhaps I shall never see you in yourbed again. "

"O, mother, don't talk so. I hope I shall be spared to you a long, longtime yet. "

"I hope you will; but we must think of the worst, and be prepared for it, my son. If it is God's will, I can give you up. And you--you must make upyour mind to brave all dangers, even to die, if necessary. It is a greatand holy cause you are engaging in. It is no gay and pleasant adventure, as perhaps you think. Are you sure you have thought of it well?"

"I have, " responded Frank. "I am going; and I am going to do my duty, whatever it is. For a few minutes after I came to bed, thinking of whatyou had said, and of leaving you, and of"--here he choked--"I was almostsorry I had said a word about going; it looked so dreary and sad to me. But I said my prayers, and now I feel better about it. I don't think anything can shake my resolution again. "

"If it is so, " replied his mother, "I have nothing more to say. " And shekissed him, and gave him plentiful good advice, and finally prayed withhim, kneeling by his bedside. 

"O, don't go, mother, " said Frank; "it is such a comfort to have youhere! May-be it is the last time. "

"May-be it is, my son. But I must bid you goodnight. You must sleep. Seehow soundly Willie is sleeping all this time! He don't know that he islosing a brother. "

After she was gone, Frank felt more lonesome than ever, the house was sosilent, the moonshine in his chamber was so cold. But he hugged his warmlittle brother close to his heart, and cried very softly, if he cried atall. 

I do not know how much he slept that night. No doubt his excited thoughtskept him awake until very late, for he was fast asleep the next morningwhen Helen came to call him. 

"Hurrah!" he exclaimed, starting up; "fight for the old flag!" for he wasdreaming of a battle. "Hallo!" he said, rubbing his eyes open. "That you, Helen?"

"A wide-awake drummer boy you are, " she replied, with her usualgood-natured irony. "You'll have to rouse up earlier than this, I tellyou, if you ever beat the reveillé for the soldiers. "

"So much the more reason why I should have a good nap in the morning, when I can, " said Frank. 

"Well, lie and sleep, if you want to, " she added, with a touch oftenderness. "I thought I'd let you know breakfast was ready. "

But Frank was wide awake enough now. He felt there was something greatand grand in the day before him, and he was anxious to meet it. He was upand dressed in a minute. He threw open his window, and looked awaytowards the city, which lay dim and strange in the beautiful mists of themorning, with the crimson clouds of the sunrise lifting like curtainsbehind it. And the far-off roar of the rumbling streets reached his ear, inspiring him freshly with hope and action. 

All the family were at breakfast, except Hattie, the sick one, when Frankcame down stairs. Even Willie had crept out of bed before him, wonderingwhat made his brother sleep so long that morning. And now he found thelittle fellow dividing his attentions between his breakfast and his toygun, which had acquired a new interest in his eyes since Helen had toldhim Frank was going to the war. 

"I'm going with my bwother Fwank, " he declared, shouldering arms over hisjohnny-cake. "And if any body--any webel"--breathing earnestly--"hurt mybwother Fwank, me shoot 'em me will!"

"Yes, " remarked Helen, "you and Frank will put down the rebellion, I'venot the least doubt. "

This was meant for a sly hit at Frank's youthful patriotism; but Willietook it quite seriously. 

"Yes, " he lisped; "me and Fwank--we put down the webellion. Takeaim!"--pointing his toy at his father's nose. "Fire! bang! See, me kill awebel. "

"How little the child realizes what it is to fight the rebels, " said hismother, with a sigh. 

"I'm afraid, " said Helen, "Frank doesn't realize it much more than Williedoes. He has just about as correct a notion about putting down the_webellion_. "

"Very likely, " said Frank, who had learned that the beat way to treat ajoke of this kind is always to humor it, instead of being offended. For ajoke is often like a little barking dog--perfectly harmless, if you passserenely by without noticing it, or if you just say, "Poor fellow! bravedog!" and pat its neck; but which, if you get angry and raise your stick, will worry you all the more for your trouble, and perhaps be provoked tobite. 

There was a silence of several minutes--Willie alone manifesting a desireto keep up the conversation on war matters. He stuck his johnny-cake onthe end of his gun, and bombarded his mother's coffee-cup with it; andwas about to procure more johnny-cake, in order to shell the sugar-bowl, which he called "Fort Sumter, " when Helen put an end to his sport bydisarming him. 

"I want father to go to town with me, to the recruiting office, " saidFrank; "for I don't suppose I will be accepted, unless he does. "

That sounded like proceeding at once to business, which Mr. Manly neverliked to do. He was one of those easily discouraged men, whose rule isalways to postpone until to-morrow what they are not absolutely obligedto do to-day. He waited, however, as usual, to hear what his wife wouldsay to the proposition, before expressing himself decidedly against it. Fortunately, Mrs. Manly had energy and self-reliance enough for both. 

"If you are still firmly resolved to go, then your father will go withyou to the recruiting office, " she said; and that settled it: for Frankwas resolved--his character resembling his mother's in respect to energyand determination. 

Accordingly, after breakfast, Mr. Manly, with frequent sighs offoreboding and discouragement, made a lather, honed his razor, and shavedhimself, preparatory to a visit to town. Frank, in the mean while, madeready for his departure. He put in order the personal effects which heintended to leave at home, and packed into a bundle a few things hepurposed to take with him. An hour passed quickly away, with all its busypreparations, consultations, and leave takings; and the last momentarrived. 

"Say good-by twice to me, " said Hattie, the little invalid, rising up onher lounge to give him a farewell kiss. 

"Why twice to you?" asked Frank. 

"Because, " she answered, with a sad, sweet smile, "If you do come homefrom the war, perhaps you won't find me here;" for the child had a notionthat she was going to die. 

"O sissy, " exclaimed Frank, "don't say so; I shall come back, and I shallfind you well. "

"Yes, " replied Hattie, sorry that she had said any thing to make him feelbad; "we will think so, dear brother. " And she smiled again; just asangels smile, Frank thought. 

"Besides, this isn't my good-by for good, you know, " said he. "I shallget a furlough, and come home and see you all, before I leave for theseat of war with my regiment. " Frank couldn't help feeling a sort ofpride in speaking of _his regiment_. "And may-be you will all visitme in camp before I go. "

"Come, " called his father, at the door; "if we are going to catch thiscar, we must be off. "

So Frank abbreviated his adieus, and ran. 

"Wait, wait!" screamed Willie, pulling his cap on "Me go, me go!"

"Go where, you little witch?" cried Helen. 

"Me go to war, along with my bwother Fwank. Put down webellion, " poutedthe child, shouldering his gun, and trudging out of the door in eagerhaste, fearing lest he should be left behind. 

Mrs. Manly was parting from her son on the doorstep, putting back a straycurl from his cheek, smoothing his collar, and whispering, with wet eyesand quivering lips, "My child, remember!"

"I will--good-by!" were Frank's last words; and he hastened after hisfather, just pausing on the next corner to look around at the faces inthe door of his home, and wave his hat at them. There was Hattie, leaningon Helen's arm, and waving her handkerchief, which was scarcely whiterthan that thin white face of hers; and there was his mother gazing afterhim with steadfast eyes of affection and blessing, while her hands werefully occupied in restraining that small but fiery patriot, Willie, who, with his cap over his eyes, was vehemently struggling to go with hisbwother Fwank. 

This was the tableau, the final picture of home, which remained imprintedon Frank's memory. For the corner was passed, and the doorway and windowsof the dear old house, and the dearer faces there, were lost to sight. Hewould have delayed, in order to get one more look; but already thetinkling bells gave warning of the near approach of the horse-car, and heand his father had no more than time to reach the Main Street, when itcame up, and stopped to take them in. 

In but little more than an hour's time, by far the most important step inFrank's life had been taken. He had enlisted. 

"Well, " said his father, after Frank, with a firm and steady hand, hadwritten his name, "it is done now. You are a brave boy!"--with a tear ofpride, as he regarded his handsome, spirited young volunteer, and thoughtthat not many fathers had such promising sons. 

While they were at the recruiting office, one of their neighbors came in. 

"What!" he exclaimed, "you here? on business?"

"Patriotic business, " replied Mr. Manly, showing his son with a fondfather's emotion. "He has volunteered, neighbor Winch. "

"And you give your consent?"

"I do, most certainly, since he feels it his duty to go, and his motheris willing. "

Neighbor Winch stood speechless for a moment, the muscles of his mouthworking. "I have just heard, " he said, in an agitated voice, "that my sonJohn has enlisted _without_ my consent; and I have come here to ascertainthe fact. Do you know any thing about it, Frank?"

"I suppose I do, " replied Frank, with some reluctance. "He enlisted threedays ago. He wanted me to go with him then; but I----"

"You what?" said neighbor Winch. 

"I couldn't, without first getting permission from my father and mother, "explained Frank. 

"O, if my John had only acted as noble a part!" said the neighbor. "It'sa bad beginning for a boy to run away. He has nearly broken his mother'sheart. "

"Well, well, neighbor, " observed Mr. Manly, consolingly, "reflect thatit's in a good cause. Jack might have done worse, you know. "

"Yes, yes. He never was a steady boy, as you know. He has set out tolearn three different trades, and got sick of them all. I couldn't keephim at school, neither. Of late nothing would do but he must be asoldier. If I thought he'd stick to it, and do his duty, I wouldn't say aword. But he'll get tired of carrying a gun, too, before he has seen hardservice. Where is he? Do you know, Frank?"

"He is in camp, in the Jackson Blues, " mid Frank. "I am going as drummerin the same company. "

"I'm glad of that, " replied Mr. Winch. "For, though he is so much olderthan you, I think you always have had an influence over him, Frank--agood influence, too. " And the neighbor took the young volunteer's hand. 

Frank's eyes glistened--he felt so touched by this compliment, and soproud that his father had heard it, and could go home and tell it to hismother and sisters. 

Neighbor Winch went on: "I want you to see John, as soon as you can, Frank, and talk with him, and try to make him feel how wrongly he hasacted----"

Here the poor man's voice failed him; and Frank, sympathizing with hissorrow, was filled with gratitude to think that he had never been temptedto grieve his parents in the same way. 

Mr. Manly accompanied his son to the railroad depot, and saw him safelyin the cars that were to convey him to camp, and then took leave of him. The young volunteer would have forgotten his manhood, and cried, if theeyes of strangers had not been upon him; even as it was, his voice brokewhen he said his last good-by, and sent back his love to his mother andsisters and little Willie. 

 III. 

 UNDER CANVAS. 

The cars were soon off; and the heart of Frank swelled within him as hefelt himself now fairly embarked in his new adventure. 

Soon enough the white tents of the camp rose in sight. The Stars andStripes floating under the blue sky, the soldiers in their blue uniforms, the sentinels with their glittering bayoneted guns pacing up and down, and above all, the sound of a drum, which he considered now to be a partof his life, made him feel himself already a hero. 

Several other recruits had come down in the train with him, accompaniedby an officer. Frank was a stranger to them all. But he was not longwithout acquaintances, for he had scarcely alighted at the depot when hesaw coming towards him his neighbor and chum, Jack Winch, in soldierclothes--a good-looking young fellow, a head taller and some two yearsolder than himself. 

"Hello, Jack! how are you?"

"Tip-top!" said Jack, looking happy as a prince. 

The officer who had brought down the recruits went with them to thequartermaster's department, and gave orders for their outfit. WhenFrank's turn came, his measure was taken, and an astonishing quantity ofarmy clothing issued to him. He had two pairs of drawers, two shirts, twopairs of stockings, a blouse, a dress coat, an overcoat, a cap, a pair ofshoes, a pair of pantaloons, and a towel. Besides these he received aknapsack, with two blankets; a haversack, with a tin plate, knife andfork, and spoon; and a tin cup and canteen. He had also been told that heshould get his drum and drumsticks; but in this he was disappointed. Thedepartment was out of drums. 

"Never mind!" said Jack, consolingly. "You may consider yourself lucky todraw your clothes so soon. I had to wait for mine till I was examined andsworn in. The surgeons are so lazy, or have so much to do, or something, it may be a week before you'll be examined. "

Frank was soon surrounded by acquaintances whom he scarcely recognized atfirst, they looked so changed and strange to him in their uniforms. 

"How funny it seems, " said he, "to be shaking hands with soldiers!"

"These are our tents, " said Jack. "They all have their names, you see. "

Which fact Frank had already noticed with no little astonishment. 

The names were lettered on the canvas of the tents in characters far moregrotesque than elegant One was called the "Crystal Palace;" another, the"Mammoth Cave;" a third bore the mystical title of "Owl House;" while afourth displayed the sign of the "Arab's Home;" etc. 

"My traps are in the 'Young Volunteer, '" said Jack. "We give it thatname, because we are all of us young fellows in there. You can tie uphere too, "--entering the tent, --"if you want to. "

Frank gladly accepted the proposition. "How odd it must seem, " he said, "to live and sleep under canvas!"

"You'll like it tip-top, when you get used to it, " remarked Jack, with anair of old experience. 

Frank made haste to take off his civil suit and put on his soldierclothes. Jack pronounced the uniform a splendid fit, and declared thathis friend looked "stunning. "

"But you must have your hair cut, Frank. Look here; this is the fightingtrim!" and Jack Winch, pulling off his cap, made Frank laugh till thetears came into his eyes, at the ludicrous sight. Jack's hair had beenclipped so close to his head that it was no longer than mouse's hair, giving him a peculiarly grim and antique appearance. 

"You look like Sinbad's Old Man of the Sea!" exclaimed Frank. "I won'thave my hair cut that way!"--feeling of his own soft brown curls, whichhis mother was so fond of, and which he meant to preserve, if only forher sake. 

"Pshaw! you look like a girl! Come, Frank, there's a fellow in the 'OwlHouse' that cuts all the hair for our company. "

But here an end was put to the discussion by some of the boys withoutcrying, "Dinner!"

"Dinner!" repeated Jack. "Hurrah! let's go and draw our rations. "

Three or four young volunteers now came into the tent, and, opening theirhaversacks, drew forth their tin plates, knives and forks. Frank did thesame, and observing that they all took their tin cups, he took his also, and followed them, with quite as much curiosity as appetite, to thecook-shop, where a large piece of bread and a thick slice of boiled beefwas dealt out to each, together with a cup of coffee. 

"How droll it seems to eat rations!" said Frank, on their return, seatinghimself on his bed, --a tick filled with straw, --and using his lap for atable. 

The bread was sweet; but the beef was of not quite so fine a quality asFrank had been used to at home and the coffee was not exactly like hismother's. 

"Here, have some milk, " said Jack. "I've an account open with thiswoman"--a wrinkled old creature, who came into the tent with a littlegirl, bearing baskets of cakes and fruits, and a can of milk. 

"No, I thank you, " said Frank. "I may as well begin with the fare I shallhave to get used to some time, for I mean to send all my pay home to myfolks except what I'm actually obliged to use myself. "

"You'll be a goose if you do!" retorted Jack. "I shan't send home any ofmine. I'm my own man now, ye see, and what I earn of Uncle Sam I'm goingto have a gallus old time with, you may bet your life on that!"

Frank drew a long breath, for he felt that the time had now come to havethe talk with his friend which Mr. Winch had requested. 

"I saw your father, this morning, Jack. "

"Did ye though? What did the old sinner have to say?"

"I don't like to hear you call your father such names, " said Frank, seriously. "And if you had seen how bad he felt, when he spoke of yourenlisting----"

"Pshaw, now, Frank! don't be green! don't get into a pious strain, I begof ye! You'll be the laughing-stock of all the boys, if ye do. "

Frank blushed to the eyes, not knowing what reply to make. He had felt nolittle pride in Mr. Winch's responsible charge to him, and had intendedto preach to his more reckless companion a good, sound, moral discourseon this occasion. But to have his overtures received in this manner wasdiscouraging. 

"Come, " continued Jack, taking something from the straw, "we are soldiersnow, and must do as soldiers do. Have a drink, Frank?"--presenting asmall bottle. 

"What is it?" Frank asked, and when told, "Brandy, " he quickly withdrewthe hand he had extended. "No, I thank you, Jack, I am not going to drinkany thing of that sort, unless I need it as a medicine. And I am sorry tosee you getting into such habits so soon. "

"Habits? what habits?" retorted Jack, blushing in his turn. "A littleliquor don't hurt a fellow. _I_ take it only as a medicine. You mustn'tgo to being squeamish down here, I tell you. " And Jack drank a swallow ortwo, smacking his lips afterwards, as he returned the cork to the bottle. 

By this time Frank's courage was up--his moral courage, I mean, which ismore rare, as it is far more noble, than any merely physical bravery inthe face of danger. 

"I don't mean to be squeamish, " he said; "but right is right, and wrongis wrong, Jack. And what was wrong for us at home isn't going to be rightfor us here. I, for one, believe we can go through this war without doingany thing that will make our parents ashamed of us when we return. "

"My eye!" jeered his companion; "and do you fancy a little swallow ofbrandy is going to make my folks ashamed of me?"

"It isn't the single swallow I object to, Jack; it's the habit ofdrinking. That's a foolish thing, to say the least, for young fellows, like you and me, to get into; and we all know what it leads to. Who wantsto become a tobacco-spitting, rum-drinking, filthy old man?"

"Ha, ha, ha, " laughed Jack; rather feebly, however, for he could not helpfeeling that Frank was as much in the right as he was in the wrong. "Youlook a long ways ahead, it seems to me. I haven't thought of being an oldman yet. "

"If we live, we shall be men, and old men, too, some day, " said Frank, without minding his sneers. "And you know we are laying the foundationsof our future characters now. "

"That's what your mother, or your Sunday school teacher, has been sayingto you. "

"No matter who has said it. I know it's true, and I hope I never shallforget it. I mean to become a true, honest man if I live; and now, Ibelieve, is the time to begin. "

"O, no doubt you'll be great things, " grinned Jack. 

The tone in which he said this was highly offensive; and Frank wasprovoked to retort, --

"You don't seem even to have thought what you are going to be. You tryfirst one thing, then another, and stick to nothing. That's what yourfather said this morning, with tears in his eyes. "

Jack turned red as fire, either with anger or shame, or both, and seemedmeditating a passionate reply, when some of his companions, who had beeneating their rations outside, entered the tent. 

"Come in, boys, " cried Jack, "and hear Frank preach. You didn't know wehad a chaplain in our company--did ye? That's the parson, there, with thegirl's hair. He can reel you off sermons like any thing. Fire away, Frank, and show the boys. "

"Yes, steam up, parson, " said Joe Harris, "and give us a specimen. "

"Play away, seven, " cried Ned Ellis, as if Frank had been a fire-engineof that number. 

These, together with other facetious remarks, made Frank so ashamed andconfused that he could not say a word. For experience had not yet taughthim that even the most reckless and depraved, however they may laugh athonest seriousness in a companion, cannot help respecting him for it intheir hearts. 

"You needn't blush so, young chap, " said tall Abram Atwater, a stalwart, square-shouldered, square-featured young man of twenty, who alone had notjoined in the derisive merriment. "It won't hurt any of these fellows topreach to them, and they know it. "

Frank cast a grateful look at the tall soldier, who, though almost astranger to him, had thus generously taken his part against some whoprofessed to be his friends. He tried to speak, but could not articulatea word, he was still feeling so hurt by Jack's ingratitude. Perhaps hispride was as much wounded as his friendship; for, as we have hinted, hehad been a good deal puffed up with the idea of his influence over Jack. This incident, as we shall see, had a bad effect upon Frank himself; for, instead of persevering in the good work he had undertaken, he wasinclined to give up all hope of exerting an influence upon any body. 

In the mean time Jack was washing down the sermon, as he said, with morebrandy. 

"'Twas such an awful dry discourse, boys;" and he passed the bottlearound to the others, who all drank, except Abram Atwater. That stalwartyoung soldier stood in the midst of the tent, straight and tall, with hisarms calmly folded under his blue cape (a favorite attitude of his), andmerely shook his head, with a mild and tolerant smile, when the liquorwas passed to him. 

Such was the beginning of Frank's camp life. It was not long before hehad recovered from his confusion, and was apparently on good terms withhis messmates. He spent the afternoon in walking about the camp; watchingsome raw recruits at their drill; watching others playing cards, orcheckers, or backgammon; getting acquainted, and learning the ways of thecamp generally. 

So the day passed; and that night Frank lay for the first timesoldier-fashion, under canvas. He went to bed with his clothes on, anddrew his blanket over him. It was not like going to bed in his nicelittle room at home, with Willie snuggled warmly beside him; yet therewas a novelty in this rude and simple mode of life that was charming. Hiscompanions, who lay upon the ground around him, kept him awake with theirstories long after the lights were out; but at length, weary with theday's excitement, he fell asleep. 

There, --a dweller now in the picturesque white city of tents gleaming inthe moonlight, ruggedly pillowed on his soldier's couch, those soft browncurls tossed over the arm beneath his head, --the drummer boy dreamed ofhome. The last night's consultation and the morning's farewells werelived over again in the visions of his brain; and once more his mothervisited his bedside; and again his father accompanied him to therecruiting office. But now the recruiting office was changed into abarber's shop, which seemed to be a tent supported by a striped pole;where, at John Winch's suggestion, he was to have his hair trimmed to thefighting-cut. The barber was a stiff-looking officer in epaulets, whoheated a sword red-hot in an oven, while Frank preached to him a neatlittle sermon over his ration. Then the epaulets changed to a pair ofroosters with flaming red combs, that flapped their wings and crowed. Andthe barber, approaching Frank with his red-hot sword, made him lie on hisback to be shaved. Then followed an excruciating sense of having his hairpulled and his face scraped and burnt, which made him move and murmur inhis sleep; until, a ruthless attempt being made to thrust the sword uphis nostrils, he awoke. 

Shouts of laughter greeted him. His companions had got up at midnight, lighted a candle, and burnt a cork, with which they had been giving himan artificial mustache and whiskers. He must have been a ludicrous sight, with his countenance thus ornamented, sitting up on his bed, rubbing hiseyes open, and staring about him, while Winch and Harris shrieked withmirth, and Ned Ellis flapped his arms and crowed. 

Frank put up his hand to his head. O grief! his curls had been mangled bydull shears in the unskilful hands of John Winch. The depredator wasstill brandishing the miserable instrument, which he had borrowed for theoccasion of the fellow who cut the company's hair in the "Owl House. "

Frank's sudden awaking, astonishment, and chagrin were almost too muchfor him. He could have cried to think of a friend playing him such atrick; and to think of his lost curls! But he had made up his mind toendure every thing that might befall him with unflinching fortitude. Hemust not seem weak on an occasion like this. His future standing with hiscomrades might depend upon what he should say and do next. So he summonedall his stoutness of heart, and accepted the joke as good-naturedly aswas possible under the circumstances. 

"I wish you'd tell me what the fun is, " he said, "so that I can laughtoo. "

"Give him the looking-glass, " cried Jack Winch, holding the candle, whileEllis stopped crowing, to bring a little three-cornered fragment of abroken mirror, by which Frank was shown the artistic burnt-cork work onhis face. He could hardly help laughing himself at his own hideousness, now that the first disagreeable sense of being the sport of his friendshad passed. 

"I hope you have had fun enough to pay for waking me up out of thequeerest dream any body ever had, " he said. And he told all about thebarber, and the epaulets that became roosters, and the red-hot sword fora razor, etc. Then, looking at himself again in the piece of glass, hecalled out, "Give me those shears;" and taking them, he manfully cut offhis mutilated curls. "There, that isn't exactly the fighting-cut, Jack, but 'twill do. Now, boys, tell some more of those dull stories, and Iguess I can go to sleep again. "

And he lay down once more, declining to accept an urgent invitation topreach. 

"There, boys, " said stout Abram Atwater, who had sat all the timecross-legged, a silent, gravely-smiling spectator of the scene, "youshan't fool him any more. He has got pluck; he has shown it. And now lethim alone. "

 IV. 

 THE OLD DRUMMER AND THE NEW DRUM. 

As yet, Frank had no drum. Neither had he any scientific knowledge of theinstrument. He was ambitious of entering upon his novel occupation, andwas elated to learn, the next morning, that he was to begin hisacquaintance with the noble art of drumming that very day. 

"The sergeant is inquiring for you, " said Abram Atwater, with his mild, pleasant smile, calling him out of the tent. 

Frank, who was writing a letter to his mother, on his knapsack, jumped upwith alacrity, hid his paper, and ran out to see what was wanted. 

"This way, Manly, " said the sergeant. "Here's the man that's to give youlessons. Go with him. "

The teacher was a veteran drummer, with a twinkling gray eye, a long, thick, gray mustache, and a rather cynical way of showing his teeth underit. He had some drumsticks thrust into his pocket, but no drum. 

"I suppose, " thought Frank, "we shall find our drums in the woods;" intowhich his instructor straightway conducted him in order to be away fromthe diversions and noises of the camp. 

Frank was disappointed. The veteran gave him his first exercise--on aboard!

"I thought I was to learn on a drum, " he ventured to suggest, looking up, not without awe, at the bushy mustache. 

"You don't want a drum till you know how to drum, " said the veteran. 

"But I should think it would be better----"

"Wait!" lifting his drumstick. "Do you understand what we are here for?"

"To learn to drum, " replied Frank, in some astonishment. 

"To learn to drum, " repeated the veteran, a curious smile just raisingthe corners of that grizzled mustache. "You understand correctly. Now, amI your teacher, or are you mine?"

"You are mine, sir, " answered the boy, still more amazed. 

"Right again!" exclaimed the professor. "That's the way I understood it;but I might be wrong, you know. We are all liable to be wrong--are wenot?"

"Yes, sir. "

Frank stared. 

"Good again! But now it is understood correctly; I am your instructor, and you are not mine; that is it. "

Frank assented. 

"Very well! Now listen. Since I am to give you lessons, and you are notto give me lessons, you will follow the method I propose, and excuse meif I decline to follow your method. That is reasonable, --isn't it?"

"Certainly, sir, " murmured the abashed pupil. 

"The point settled, then, we will proceed, " said the veteran, with thesame incomprehensible, half-sarcastic, half-humorous, but now quitegood-natured smile lighting up his grim visage. 

"But before we proceed, " said Frank, "may I just say what I was goingto?"

The old drummer lifted both his sticks, and his eyebrows too (not tospeak of his shaggy mustache), in surprise at the lad's audacity. 

"Do you want me to report you as insubordinate?" he asked, after a pause, during which the two regarded each other somewhat after the fashion oftwo dogs making acquaintance--a tall, leering old mastiff looking surlilydown at the advances of an anxious yet stout and unflinching youngspaniel. 

"No, sir, " answered Frank. "But I thought----"

"You thought! What business have you to think?"

"No business, perhaps, " Frank admitted, confronting the weather-beatenold drummer with his truthful, undaunted, fine young face. "But I can'thelp thinking sir, for all that. "

"You can help expressing your thoughts out of season, though, " said theveteran. 

"I will try to in future, sir, " answered Frank, laughing. 

At the same time a smile of genuine benevolence softened the tough, ancient visage of the veteran; and they proceeded with the lesson. 

After it was over, the teacher said to the pupil, --

"Now, my young friend, I will hear that observation or question of yours, whatever it is. "

"I think I have answered it for myself, " said Frank. "I was going to say, I should think it would be better to learn to drum on a drum; but I seenow, if I get to roll the sticks on a board, which is hard, I can rollthem so much the better on a drumhead, which is elastic. "

"Right, my young friend, " replied the veteran, approvingly. "And in themean time, we avoid a good deal of unpleasant noise, as you see. " For hehad other pupils practising under his eye in the woods, not far fromFrank. 

"And I should like to ask--if I could have permission, " began Frank, archly. 

"Ask me any thing you please, out of lesson-hours. " And the old drummerpatted the young drummer's shoulder. 

Frank felt encouraged. He was beginning to like his teacher, notwithstanding his odd ways; and he hoped the old man was beginning tolike him. 

"I want to know, then, if you think I will make a drummer?"

"And what if you will not?"

"Then I shall think I ought to give up the idea of it at once; for Idon't want to be second-rate in any thing I once undertake. "

"And you have been just a little discouraged over your first lesson? andwould be willing now to give up?"

"No, sir. I should feel very bad to be obliged to give up the drum. "

"Very well. Then I can say something to comfort you. Stick to it, as youhave begun, and you will make a drummer. "

"A first-rate one?" Frank asked, eagerly. 

"First-rate, or else I am no judge. "

"I am glad!" and the delighted pupil fairly jumped for joy. 

From that time the two got on capitally together. Frank soon becomeaccustomed to the veteran's eccentric manners, and made great proficiencyin his exercises. And it was not long before the hard-featured olddrummer began to manifest, in his way, a great deal of friendly interestin his young pupil. 

"Now, my boy, " said he one day, after Frank had been practisingsuccessfully the "seven-stroke roll, " greatly to the satisfaction of hisinstructor, --"now, my boy, I think you can be safely intrusted with yourcomrade. "

"My comrade?" queried the pupil. 

"I mean, your better half. "

"My better half?"

Frank was mystified. 

"Yes, your wife. " And the grizzly mustache curled with quiet humor. 

"I must be a married man without knowing it!" laughed Frank. 

"Your ship, then, " said the veteran, dryly. "Come with me. "

And conducting Frank to his tent, he took from one side an object coveredwith a blanket. 

"My ship!" cried Frank, joyfully, already guessing what treasure was nowto be his. 

"Your sword, then, if you like that name better. For what his sword is toa hero, what his ship is to a true sailor, what a wife is to a truehusband, --such, my young friend, to a genuine drummer is his drum. "

So saying, the veteran threw aside the covering, and presented to hispupil the long-coveted prize. The boy's eyes shone with pleasure, and (ashe wrote that evening to his parents) he was so happy he could havehugged both the old drummer and the new drum. 

"I selected it for you, and you may be sure it is a good one. It won't beany handsomer, but, if you use it well, it won't be really much theworse, for going through a campaign or two with you. For it is with drumsas it is with the drummers; they grow old, and get some honorablescratches, and some unlucky bruises, and now and then a broken head; but, God prospering them, they come out, at last, ugly to look at, perhaps"(the veteran stroked his mustache), "but well-seasoned, and sound, andvery truly at your service. "

Frank thought be saw a tear in his twinkling gray eye, and he was so muchaffected by it, that he caught his hand in both of his, exclaiming, "Bless you, dear sir! Dear, good sir, God bless you!"

The old man winked away the moisture from his eye, smiling still, butwith a quivering lip, and patted him gently on the shoulder, withoutsaying a word. 

Frank had the sense to perceive that the interview was now over; theveteran wished to be left alone; and, with the new drum at his side, heleft the tent, proud and happy, and wishing in his heart that he could dosomething for that singular, kind old man. 

As Frank was hastening to his tent, he was met by one of the captains inhis regiment, who, seeing the bright beaming face and new drum, accostedhim. 

"So, you are a drummer boy--are you?"

"Yes, sir, I am learning to be one, " said Frank, modestly. 

Now, these two had seen each other often in camp and the captain hadalways regarded Frank with a smile of interest and kindness, and Frank(as he wrote home) had "always liked the looks of the captainfirst-rate. "

"I saw you, I think, the day you came here, " said the captain. "You hadsome curls then. What has become of them?"

Frank's lip twitched, and he cast down his eyes, ashamed to betray anylingering feeling on that subject. 

"The boys cut them off in my sleep, sir. "

"The rogues!" exclaimed the captain. "And what did you do?"

Frank lifted his eyes with a smile. "I partly finished them myself--theyhad haggled them so; and the next day I found a man to cut my hairnicely. "

"Well, it is better so, perhaps: short hair for a soldier. But I likedthose curls. They reminded me of a little sister of mine--she is gonenow--, " in a low, mellow tone. "Are you attached to any company?"

"I am enlisted in the Jackson Blues. "

"What is your name?"

"Frank Manly, sir. "

"Are you any relation to Mrs. Manly, of----?"

"She is my mother, sir, " said Frank, with proud affection. 

"Is it possible! Mrs. Manly's son! Indeed, you look like her. "

"Do you know my mother, sir?"

"My lad, " said the captain, "I used to go to school to her. But, though Ihave heard of her often, I haven't seen her for years. "

"I shall write to her, and tell her about you, " said Frank, delighted. "She will be glad to hear that I have found so good a friend. "

"Ask her, " said the captain, "If she remembers Henry Edney, who used togo to school to her in ----. She will recollect me, I am sure. And givemy very kind regards to her, and to your father; and tell them I regret Ididn't see you before you enlisted, for I want just such a drummer boy inmy company. But never mind, " he added quickly, as if conscious of havingspoken indiscreetly, "you will do your duty where you are, and I will tryto do mine, for we must have only one thought now--to serve our country. "

They separated, with more kind words on the captain's part, and withexpressions of gratitude on the part of Frank, who felt that, tocompensate him for John Winch's treachery, he was already securing thefriendship of a few of the best of men. 

You may be sure the boy wrote to his mother all about the interview, andtold her how sorry he was that he had not enlisted in Captain Edney'scompany; not only because he liked his new friend's kindness and affablemanners so well, but also because there existed in the ranks of theJackson Blues a strong prejudice against their own officers. Captain ----was almost a stranger to his men, and seemed determined to continue so. He seldom appeared amongst them, or showed any interest in their welfare. He had never once drilled them, but left that duty entirely to thesergeant. They consequently accused him boldly of laziness, ignorance, and conceit--three qualities which men always dislike in their superiors. How different was Captain Edney!

 V. 

 FUN IN CAMP. 

Frank now practised his lessons on his drum, and was very happy. He hadpassed the surgical examination a few days after his arrival in camp, andbeen duly sworn into the service. This latter ceremony made a strongimpression on his mind. He stood in the open air, together with a numberof new recruits, and heard the Articles of War read; after which they alltook off their caps, and held up their right hands, while the oath wasadministered. 

One day, on returning to camp after his lesson in the woods, he wasastonished to see Jack Winch, with his cap off, his fighting-cutdisplayed to all beholders, and his fist shaking, marched off by armedsoldiers. 

"What are they doing with Jack?" he hastened to inquire of Abram Atwater, who stood among his comrades with his arms composedly crossed under hiscape. 

"He is put under guard, " said the tall, taciturn soldier. 

"You see, " cried Joe Harris, coming up, "Jack had tipped the bottle oncetoo often, and got noisy. The sergeant told him to keep still. 'Dry upyourself, ' said Jack. 'Start, ' says the sergeant; and he took hold of himto push him towards the tent; but the next he knew, he got a blow squarein the face, --Jack was so mad!"

"Come, boys, " said Ned Ellis, "Le's go over and see how he likes thefun. "

The proposal was accepted; and presently a strong deputation of the Blueswent to pay a visit to their disgraced comrade. Arrived at the guardtent, a couple of sentinels crossed their bayonets before them. Butalthough they could not enter, they could look in; and there, seated onthe ground, they saw Jack, in a position which would have appearedexcessively ludicrous to Frank, but that it seemed to him too pitiful tobehold any comrade so degraded. In consequence of his continued fury andviolence, Jack had been secured in this fashion. Imagine a grotesqueletter _N_, to which feet, arms, and a head have been added, and you havesome idea of his posture, as seen in profile. His knees were elevated;forming the upper angle of the letter. The lower angle was represented bythat portion of the body which forms the seat of the human animal. Thearms were passed over the upper angle, that is, the knees, and kept intheir place by handcuffs on the wrists, and by a musket thrust through, over the arms and under the knees. 

"Can't you untie them iron knots with your teeth, Jack?" said Joe, meaning the handcuffs. 

"How do you like the back to your chair?" said Ned. 

"Let's see ye turn a somerset backwards, Jack. "

And so forth. But Frank did not insult him in his disgrace. 

Winch was by this time sufficiently sobered and humbled. He destroyed thesymmetry of the _N_ by doubling himself ingloriously over his knees andhiding his face between them. 

"Got the colic, Jack?" asked Harris--"you double up so. "

Winch glared up at him a moment, --a ludicrous picture, with that writhingface and that curious fighting-cut, --but cast down his eyes again, sulkily, and said nothing. 

"Come away, boys, " whispered Frank. "Don't stay here, making fun of him. Why do you?"

"Jack, " said Ellis, "we're going to take a drink. Won't you come alongwith us?"--tauntingly. 

And the Blues dispersed, leaving poor Jack to his own bitter reflections. 

He had learned one thing--who his friends were. On being released, heshunned Harris and Ellis especially, for a day or two, and paid his courtto Frank. 

"I am going to tell you something, Frank, " said he, as they were once atthe pond-side, washing their plates after dinner. "I'm going to leave thecompany. "

"Leave the Blues?" said Frank. 

"Yes, and quit the service. I've got sick of it. "

"But I thought you liked it so well. "

"Well, I did at first. It was a kind of novelty. Come, let's leave it. Iwill. "

"But how can you?"

"Easy enough. I am under age, and my father 'll get me off. "

"I should think you would be ashamed to ask him to, " Frank could not helpsaying, with honest contempt. 

Jack was not offended this time by his plainness, for he had learned thatthose are not, by any means, our worst friends, who truly tell us ourfaults. 

"I don't care, " he said, putting on an air of recklessness. "I ain'tgoing to lead this miserable dog's life in camp any longer, if I have todesert"--lowering his voice to a whisper; "we can desert just as easy asnot, Frank, if we take a notion. "

"I, for one, " said Frank, indignantly, "shan't take a notion to doanything so dishonorable. We enlisted of our own free will, and I thinkit would be the meanest and most dishonest thing we could do to----"

"Hush!" whispered Jack. "There's Atwater; he'll hear us. "

 * * * *

At midnight the drummer boy was awakened by a commotion in the tent. 

"Come, Frank, " said some one, pulling him violently, "we are going tohave some great fun. Hurrah!"

Frank jumped up. The boys were leaving the tent. He had already suspectedthat mischief was meditated, and, anxious to see what it was, he ran outafter them. 

He found the company assembled in a dark, mysterious mass in the streetbefore the row of tents. 

"Get a rope around his neck, " said one. 

"Burn the tent, " said another. 

"With him in it, " said a third. 

"What does it all mean?" Frank inquired of his friend Atwater, whom hefound quietly listening to the conspirators. 

"A little fun with the Gosling, I believe, " said Atwater, with a shrug. "They'd better let him alone. "

"The Gosling" was the nickname which the Blues had bestowed on theircaptain. 

After a hurried consultation among the ringleaders, the company marchedto the tent where the Gosling slept. Only Atwater, Frank, and a fewothers lingered in the rear. 

"I hope they won't hurt him, " said Frank. "Ought we not to give thealarm?"

"And get the lasting ill-will of the boys?" said Atwater. "We can'tafford that. "

The captain's tent was surrounded. Knives were drawn. Then, at aconcerted signal, the ropes supporting the tent were cut. At the sametime the captain's bed, which made a convenient protuberance in the sideof the tent, was seized and tipped over, while tent-pole, canvas, andall, came down upon him in a mass. 

"Help! guard! help!" he shrieked, struggling under the heap. 

At the instant a large pile of straw, belonging to the quartermaster'sdepartment close by, burst forth in a sheet of flame which illumined thecamp with its glare. 

The boys now ran to their tents, laughing at the plight of their captain, as he issued, furious, from the ruins. Frank began to run too; butthinking that this would be considered an indication of guilt, hestopped. Atwater was at his side. 

"We are caught, " said Atwater, coolly. "There's the guard. " And he foldedhis arms under his cape and waited. 

"What shall we do?" said Frank, in great distress, not that he feared theadvancing bayonets, but he remembered John Winch's arrest, and dreaded asimilar degradation. 

"There are two of them, " said the half-dressed captain, pointing outFrank and his friend to the officer of the guard. 

In his excitement he would have had them hurried off at once to theguard-tent. But fortunately the colonel of the regiment, who had beenwriting late in his tent, heard the alarm, and was already on the spot. He regarded the prisoners by the light of the burning straw. Frank, recovering from the trepidation of finding himself for the first timesurrounded by a guard, and subject to a serious accusation returned hislook with a face beaming with courage and innocence. The colonel smiled. 

"Have you been meddling with Captain ----'s bed and cutting his tentdown?" he asked. 

"No, sir, " said Frank, with a mien which bore witness to the truth. 

"Do you know who set that fire?"

"No, sir. "

"What are you out of your tent for?"

"I came to see the fun, sir. If it was wrong I am very sorry. "

"What fun?"

"The boys were going to have some fun; I didn't know what, and I came tosee. "

"What boys?"

"All the boys in our company. "

"Which of them did the things your captain complains of?"

"I don't know, sir. They were all together; and who tipped the bed, orcut the ropes, or set the fire, I can't tell. "

"It seems they were all concerned, then. "

"No, sir, not all. Some did the mischief, and the rest looked on. "

"Did this person with you do any of the mischief?"

"No, sir; he was with me all the time, and we kept out of it. "

"How happens it, then, that only you two are caught?"

"All the rest ran. "

"And why didn't you run?"

"We had not been doing anything to run for, " said Frank, with convincingsincerity. 

Atwater was then questioned, and gave similar answers. 

"Captain ----, " said the colonel, "I think it is evident these are notthe persons who are most deserving of punishment. This boy, certainly, could not have been very deeply concerned in the assault, and I aminclined to place entire confidence in his story. "

The captain himself appeared not a little ashamed of having accused oneso young and ingenuous as the drummer boy. The prisoners were accordinglyreleased, and the investigation of the affair was postponed until themorrow. Returning with Atwater to their tent, Frank could not repress thejoy he felt at their fortunate escape. But Atwater took the whole affairwith astonishing coolness, exhibiting no more emotion at their releasethan he had betrayed at their entrapment. 

"What a fellow you are!" said Frank, staying his enthusiastic step, whilehis companion, with slow and stately pace, came up with him. "You don'tseem to care for any thing. "

"Those that care the most don't always show it, " said Atwater, laconically, as they crept back into the tent. 

All was hushed and dark within; but soon they heard whispers. 

"Abe! Frank! that you?"

And they soon found that the tent was full of the fugitives, awaitingtheir return. 

"What made you let 'em catch you? How did you get off?" were the firsteager inquiries. 

Dark as it was, Frank thought he could see Atwater shrug his shouldersand look to him for the required explanation. For Abram was a fellow offew words, and Frank was glib of speech. 

So Frank, seated on his bed, related their adventure, to the greatdelight of the boys, who bestowed the warmest praises upon them for theirspirit and fidelity. They had stood their ground when deserted by theircompanions; and, although they had told the truth about the wholecompany, they had not inculpated individuals. Thus Frank, as heafterwards learned with pleasure, had by his courage and truthfulness wonboth the confidence of his officers and the good will of his comrades. 

The next day the company was called to an account for the offence. Inreply to the captain's charges, the sergeant, acting as spokesman for therest, stated the grievances of the men. The result was, that the captainreceived directions to exercise his company in the colonel's presence;and, complying reluctantly, demonstrated his own inefficiency in a mannerwhich elicited the merriment of spectators, and even provoked the colonelto smile. 

Soon after, in order to get rid of so incompetent an officer, and at thesame time punish the insubordination of the men, it was resolved todisband the company. Thus was afforded to Frank the opportunity, whichseemed to him almost providential, of joining Captain Edney's company, and to John Winch the desired chance to quit the service, of which he hadso soon grown weary. 

At this time the boys' fathers came down together to visit them. John hadwritten home a pitiful letter, and Mr. Winch went to see about gettinghim off. 

But Jack was no sooner out of the service than he wished to be in again. Frank, Atwater, and several others, had joined Captain Edney's company, and he determined to follow their example. 

"O John!" groaned Mr. Winch, in despair at this inconstancy, "when willyou learn to be a little more steady-minded? Here I have come expresslyto plead your cause, and get you off; but before I have a chance, youchange your mind again, and now nothing can persuade you to go home. "

"Well, " said John, "I didn't like the company I was in. I'm satisfiednow, and I'm going to serve my country. "

"Well, well, " said Mr. Winch, "I shall let you do as you please. Butreflect; you enlist with my consent now, and you must dismiss all hope ofgetting off next time you are sick of your bargain. "

"O, I shan't be sick of it again, " said John, as full of ambition as hehad lately been of discontent and disloyalty. 

In the mean time Frank made the most of his father's visit. He showed himhis new tent, his knapsack and accoutrements, and his handsome drum. Heintroduced him to the old drummer, and to Atwater, and to Captain Edney. The latter invited them both into his tent, and was so kind to them thatFrank almost shed tears of gratitude, to think that his father could gohome and tell what a favorite he was with his captain. Then, whendinner-time came, Frank drew a ration for his father, in order that hemight know just what sort of fare the soldiers had, and how they ate it. And so the day passed. And Frank accompanied his father to the cars, andsaw him off, sending a thousand good wishes home, and promising that hewould certainly get a furlough the coming week, and visit them. 

 VI. 

 BREAKING CAMP. 

Frank was disappointed in not being able to keep that promise. An ordercame for the regiment to be ready to march in two days; in the mean timeno furloughs could be granted. 

"I am sorry for you, Frank, " said Captain Edney; "and I would make anexception in your case, if possible. "

"No, I don't ask that, sir, " said Frank, stoutly. "I did want to see myfolks again, but----" He turned away his face. 

"Well, " said the captain, "I think it can be arranged so that you shallsee them again, if only for a short time. You can warn them in season ofour breaking camp, and they will meet you as we pass through Boston. "

This was some consolation; although it was hard for Frank to give up thelong-anticipated pleasure of visiting his family, and the satisfaction ofrelating his experience of a soldier's life to his sisters and mates. Hehad thought a good deal, with innocent vanity, of the wonder andadmiration he would excite, in his uniform, fresh from camp, and boundfor the battlefields of his country; but he had thought a great deal moreof the happiness of breathing again the atmosphere of love and sympathywhich we find nowhere but at home. 

The excitement which filled the camp helped him forget hisdisappointment. The regiment was in fine spirits. It was impatient to beon the march. Its destination was not known; some said it was to be moveddirectly to Washington; others, that it was to rendezvous at Annapolis, and form a part of some formidable expedition about to be launchedagainst the rebellion; but all agreed that what every soldier ardentlydesired was now before them--active service, and an enemy to beconquered. 

The two days in which time the regiment was to prepare to move, becamethree days--four days--a week; unavoidable obstacles still delayed itsdeparture, to the infinite vexation of Frank, who saw what a longfurlough he might have enjoyed, and who repeatedly sent to his friendsdirections when and where to meet him, which he found himself obliged, each time, to write in haste and countermand the next morning. Such aresome of the annoyances of a soldier's life. 

But at length the long-delayed orders came. They were received withtumultuous joy by the impatient troops. It was necessary to send theponderous baggage train forward a day in advance; and the tents werestruck at once. All was bustle, animation, and hilarity in the camp; anda night of jubilee followed. 

The drummer boy never forgot that night, amid all his subsequentadventures. While his companions were singing, shouting, and kindlingfires, he could not help thinking, as he watched their animated figureslighted up by the flames, that this was, probably, the last night many ofthem would ever pass in their native states; that many would fall inbattle, and find their graves in a southern soil; and that, perhaps, hehimself was one of those who would never return. 

"What are you thinking about, my bold soldier boy?" said a familiarvoice, while a gentle hand slapped him on the back. 

He turned and saw the bushy mustache of his friend and master, the olddrummer, peering over his shoulder. 

"O Mr. Sinjin!" said Frank. (The veteran wrote his name _St. John_, butevery body called him _Sinjin_. ) "I was afraid I should not see youagain. "

"Eh, and why not?"

"Because we are off in the morning, you know, and I couldn't find youto-day; and----"

"And what, my lad?" said the old man, regarding him with a very tendersmile. 

"I couldn't bear the thought of going without seeing you once more. "

"And what should a young fellow like you want to see an ugly, battered, miserable old hulk like me, for?"

"You have been very kind to me, " said Frank, getting hold of the oldman's hard, rough hand; "and I shall be sorry to part with you, sir, verysorry. "

"Well, well. " The veteran tried in vain to appear careless and cynical, as he commonly did to other people. "You are young yet. You believe infriendship, do you?"

"And don't you?" Frank earnestly inquired. 

"I did once. A great while ago. But never mind about that. I believe in_you_, my boy. You have not seen the world and grown corrupted; you arestill capable of a disinterested attachment; and may it be long beforethe thoughtlessness of some, and the treachery of others, and theselfishness of all, convince you that there is no such thing as a truefriend. " And the old drummer gave his mustache a fierce jerk, as if hehad some grudge against it. 

"O Mr. Sinjin, " said Frank, "I shall never think so and I am sure you donot. Haven't you any friends? Don't you really care for any body? Hereare all these boys; you know a good many of us, and every body that knowsyou half as well as I do, likes you, and we are going off now in a fewhours, and some of us will never come back; and don't you care?"

"Few, I fancy, think of me as you do, " said the old man, in a slightlychoking voice. "They call me _Old Sinjin_, without very much respect, "grinning grimly under his mustache. 

"But they don't mean any thing by that; they like you all the time, sir, "Frank assured him. 

"Well, like me or not, " said the veteran, his smile softening as helooked down at the boy's face upturned so earnestly to his in thefire-light, "I have determined, if only for your sake, to share thefortunes of the regiment. "

"You have? O, good! And go with us?" cried Frank, ready to dance for joy. 

"I've got tired, like the rest of you, of this dull camp life, " said theold drummer; "and seeing you pack your knapsack has stirred a littleyouthful blood in my veins which I didn't suppose was there. I'm off forthe war with the rest of you, my boy;" and he poked a coal from the fireto light his cigar, hiding his face from Frank at the same time. 

Frank, who could not help thinking that it was partly for his sake thatthe old man had come to this decision, was both rejoiced and sobered bythis evidence of friendship in one who pretended not to believe there wassuch a thing as true friendship in the world. 

"I am so glad you are going; but I am afraid you are too old; and if anything should happen to you----" Frank somehow felt that, in that case, hewould be to blame. 

The old man said nothing, but kept poking at the coal with a tremblinghand. 

"Here, Old Sinjin, " said Jack Winch, "have a match. Don't be _singin'_your mustaches over the fire for nothing;" with an irreverent pun on theold man's name. 

"Mr. Sinjin is going with us, Jack, " said Frank. 

"Is he? Bully for you, old chap!" said Jack, as the veteran, with asomewhat contemptuous smile, accepted the proffered match, and smokedaway in silence. "We are going to have a gallus old time; nothing couldhire me to stay at home. " For Jack, when inspired by the idea of change, was always enthusiastic; he was then always going to have a gallus oldtime, if any body knows what that is. "Here goes my shoes, " pitchingthose which he had worn from home into the fire. 

"Why, Jack, " said Frank, "what do you burn them for? Those were goodshoes yet. "

"I know it. But I couldn't carry them. The other boys are burning up alltheir old boots and shoes. Uncle Sam furnishes us shoes now. "

"But you should have sent them home, Jack; I sent mine along with myclothes. If you don't ever want them again yourself, somebody else may. "

"What do I care for somebody else? I care more for seeing the old thingscurl and fry in the fire as if they was mad. O, ain't that a splendidblaze! It's light as day all over the camp. By jimmy, the fellows thereare going to have a dance. "

John ran off. Old Sinjin had also taken his departure, evidently notliking young Winch's company. Frank was left once more to his ownthoughts, watching the picturesque groups about the fires. It was nowmidnight. The last of the old straw from the emptied ticks had been castinto the flames, and the broken tent-floors were burning brilliantly. Some of the wiser ones were bent on getting a little sleep. Frank sawAtwater spreading his rubber blanket on the ground, and resolved tofollow his example. Others did the same; and with their woollen blanketsover them; their knapsacks under their heads, and their feet to the fire, they bivouacked merrily under the lurid sky. 

It was Frank's first experience of a night in the open air. The weatherwas mild, although it was now November; the fires kept them warm; and butfor the noises made by the wilder sort of fellows they would have sleptwell in that novel fashion. The drummer boy sank several times into alight slumber, but as often started up, to hear the singing and laughter, and to see Atwater sleeping all the while calmly at his side, the wakefulones making sport and keeping up the fires, and the flames glitteringdimly on the stacks of arms. The last time he awoke it was day; and theshort-lived camp-fires were paling their sad rays before the eternalglory of the sunrise. 

The veteran Sinjin beat the drummer's call. Frank seized his drum andhurried to join his friend, --beating with him the last reveillé which wasto rouse up the regiment in the Old Bay State. 

After roll-call, breakfast; then the troops were drawn up under arms, preparatory to their departure. A long train of a dozen cars was at thedepot, in readiness to receive the regiment, which now marched out of theold camping-ground to the gay music of a band from a neighboring city. 

After waiting an hour on the train, they heard the welcome whistle of theengine, and the still more welcome clang of the starting cars, and offthey went amid loud cheers and silent tears. 

Frank had no relatives or near friends in the crowd left behind, as manyof his comrades had, but his heart beat fast with the thought that therewere loved ones whom he should meet soon. 

But the regiment reached Boston, and marched through the streets, andparaded on the Common; and all the while his longing eyes looked in vainfor his friends, who never appeared. It seemed to him that nearly everyother fellow in his company saw friends either on the march or at thehalt, while he alone was left unnoticed and uncomforted. And so hisanticipated hour of enjoyment was changed to one of bitterness. 

Why was it? His last letter must have had time to reach his family. Besides, they might have seen by the newspapers that the regiment wascoming. Why then did they fail to meet him? His heart swelled with griefas he thought of it, --he was there, so near home, for perhaps the lasttime, and nobody that he loved was with him during those precious, wasting moments. 

But, suddenly, as he was casting his eyes for the twentieth time alongthe lines of spectators, searching for some familiar face, he heard avoice--not father's or mother's, or sister's, but one scarcely less dearthan the dearest. 

"My bwother Fwank! me want my bwother Fwank!"

And turning, he saw little Willie running towards him, almost between thelegs of the policemen stationed to keep back the crowd. 

 VII. 

 THROUGH BOSTON. 

If ever "bwother Fwank" felt a thrill of joy, it was then. Willie ranstraight to his arms, in spite of the long-legged officer striding tocatch him, and pulling down his neck, hugged him, and kissed him, andhugged and kissed him again, with such ardor that the delightedbystanders cheered, and the pursuing policeman stepped back with a laughof melting human kindness. 

"He's too much for me, that little midget is, " he said, returning to hisplace. "Does he belong to you, ma'am?" addressing a lady whose humid eyesbetrayed something more than a stranger's interest in the scene. 

"They are my children, " said the lady. "Will you be so good, sir, as totell the drummer boy to step this way?"

But already Frank was coming. How thankful he then felt that he was not aprivate, confined to the ranks! In a minute his mother's arm was abouthim, and her kiss was on his cheek, and Helen was squeezing one hand, andhis father the other, while Willie was playing with his drumsticks. 

"I am all the more glad, " he said, his face shining with gratitude andpleasure, "because I was just giving you up--thinking you wouldn't comeat all. "

"Only think, " said Helen, "because you wrote on your letter, _In haste_, the postmaster gave it to Maggie Simpson yesterday to deliver, for shewas going right by our house; but Dan Alford came along and asked her toride, and she forgot all about the letter, and would never have thoughtof it again, I suppose, if I hadn't seen the postmaster and set off onthe track of it this morning. She had gone over to her aunt's, and I hadto follow her there; and then she had to go home again, to get the letterout of her other dress pocket; but her sister Jane had by this time goton the dress, in place of her own, which was being washed, and worn it toschool; and so we had to go on a wild-goose chase after Jane. "

"Well, I hope you had trouble enough for one letter!" said Frank. 

"But you haven't heard all yet, " said Helen, laughing, "for when we foundJane, she had not the letter, she had taken it out of the pocket, whenshe put the dress on, and left it on the bureau at home. So off again westarted, Maggie and I, but before we got to her house, the letter hadgone again--her mother had found it in the mean time, and sent it to usby the butcher boy. Well, I ran home, but no butcher boy had made hisappearance; and, do you think, when I got to the meat shop, I found himdeliberately sawing off a bone for his dog, with your letter in hisgreasy pocket. "

"He had forgotten it too!" said Frank. 

"Not he! but he didn't think it of very much importance, and he intendedto bring it to us some time during the day--after he had fed his dog! Bythis time father had got news that the regiment was in town; and such arush as we made for the horse-cars you never did see!"

"But Hattie! where is she?" Frank asked, anxiously. 

Helen's vivacious face saddened a little. 

"O, we came away in such a hurry we couldn't bring her, even if she hadbeen well enough. "

"In she worse?"

"She gets no better, " said Mrs. Manly, "and she herself thought she oughtnot to try to come. Maggie Simpson offered to stay with her. "

"I am so sorry! I wanted to see _her_. Did she send any message to me?"

"Yes, " said his mother. "She said, 'Give my love to dear brother, andtell him to think of me sometimes. '"

"Think of her sometimes!" said Frank. "Tell her I shall always think ofher and love her. "

By this time Captain Edney, seeing Frank with his friends, came towardsthem. Frank hastened to hide his emotion; and, saluting the officerrespectfully, said to him, with a glow of pleasure:--

"Captain Edney, this is my mother. "

Captain Edney lifted his cap, with a bright smile. 

"Well, " he said, "this is a meeting I rather think neither of us everlooked forward to, when we used to spend those long summer days in theold schoolhouse, which I hope you remember. "

"I remember it well--and one bright-faced boy in particular, " said Mrs. Manly, pressing his hand cordially. 

"A rather mischievous boy, I am afraid I was; a little rebel myself, inthose days, " said the captain. 

"Yet a boy that I always hoped much good of, " said Mrs. Manly. "I cannottell you how gratified I am to feel that my son is entrusted in yourhands. "

"You may be sure I will do what I can for him, " said the captain, "ifonly to repay your early care of me. "

He then conversed a few moments with Mr. Manly, who was always wellsatisfied to stand a little in the background, and let his wife have hersay first. 

"And this, I suppose, is Frank's sister, " turning to Helen. "I shouldhave known her, I think, for she looks so much as you used to, Mrs. Manly, that I can almost fancy myself stepping up to her with my slate, and saying, 'Please, ma'am, show me about this sum?'"

Frank, in the mean time, was occupied in exhibiting to Willie his drum, and in preventing him, partly by moral suasion, but chiefly by mainforce, from gratifying his ardent desire to pound upon it. 

"And here is our little brother, " said the captain, lifting Willie, notwithstanding his struggles and kicks, and kissing his shy, poutingcheeks. "He'll make a nice drummer boy too, one of these days. "

This royal flattery won the child over to his new friend immediately. 

"Me go to war with my bwother Fwank! dwum, and scare webels!" pantingearnestly over his important little story, which the captain was obligedto cut short. 

"Well, Frank, I suppose you would like to spend the rest of the time withyour friends. Be at the Old Colony depot at five o'clock. Meanwhile, "--touching his cap, --"a pleasant time to all of you. "

So saying, be left them, and Frank departed with his friends, carryinghis drum with him, to the great delight of little Willie, whose heartwould have been broken if all hope of being allowed to drum upon it hadbeen cut off by leaving it behind. 

"Mrs. Gillett has invited us to bring you to her house, " said Mrs. Manly. "I want to have a long talk with you there; and I want Mrs. Gillett'sbrother, the minister, to see you. "

Frank was not passionately fond of ministers; and immediately anunpleasant image rose in his mind, of a solemn, black-coated individual, who took a mournful satisfaction in damping the spirits of young peopleby his long and serious conversations. 

"You needn't strut so, Frank, if you _have_ got soldier clothes on, "laughed Helen. "I'll tell folks you are smart, if you are so particularto have them know it. "

"Do, if you please, " said Frank. "And I'll tell 'em you're handsome, ifyou'll put your veil down so they won't know but that I am telling thetruth. "

"There, Helen, " said Mrs. Manly, "you've got your joke back withinterest. Now I'd hold my tongue, if I was you. "

"Frank and I wouldn't know each other if we didn't have a little funtogether, " said Helen. "Besides, we'll all feel serious enough by and by, I guess. " For she loved her brother devotedly, much as she delighted totease him; and she would have been glad to drown in merry jests thethought of the final parting, which was now so near at hand. 

They were cordially received at Mrs. Gillett's house; and there Mrs. Manly enjoyed the wished-for opportunity of talking with her son, andWillie had a chance to beat the drum in the attic, and Mrs. Gillettsecretly emptied Frank's haversack of its rations of pork and hard tack, and filled it again with excellent bread and butter, slices of cold lamb, and sponge cake. Moreover, a delightful repast was prepared for thevisitors, at which Frank laughed at his own awkwardness, declaring thathe had eaten from a tin plate so long, with his drumhead for a table, that he had almost forgotten the use of china and napkins. 

"If Hattie was only here now!" he said, again and again. For it neededonly his invalid sister's presence, during these few hours, to make himperfectly happy. 

"Eat generously, " said the minister, "for it may be long before you sitat a table again. "

"Perhaps I never shall, " thought Frank, but he did not say so lest hemight hurt his mother's feelings. 

The minister was not at all such a person as he had expected to see, butonly a very pleasant gentleman, not at all stiffened with the idea thathe had the dignity of the profession to sustain. He was natural, friendly, and quite free from that solemn affectation which now and thenbecomes second nature in ministers some of us know, but which never failsto repel the sympathies of the young. 

Mr. Egglestone was expecting soon to go out on a mission to the troops, and it was for this reason Mrs. Manly wished them to become acquainted. 

"I wish you were going with our regiment, " said Frank. "We have got achaplain, I believe, but I have never seen him yet, or seen any body whohas seen him. "

"Well, I hope at least I shall meet you, if we both reach the seat ofwar, " said the minister, drawing him aside. "But whether I do or not, Iam sure that, with such a good mother as you have, and such dear sistersas you leave behind, you will never need a chaplain to remind you thatyou have something to preserve more precious than this mortal life ofours, --the purity and rectitude of your heart. "

This was spoken so sincerely and affectionately that Frank felt those fewwords sink deeper into his soul than the most labored sermon could havedone. Mr. Egglestone said no more, but putting his arm confidingly overthe boy's shoulder, led him back to his mother. 

And now the hour of parting had come. Frank's friends, including theminister, went with him to the cars. Arrived at the depot, they found itthronged with soldiers, and surrounded by crowds of citizens. 

"O, mother!" said Frank, "you _must_ see our drum-major, old Mr. Sinjin--my teacher, you know. There he is; I'll run and fetch him!"

He returned immediately, dragging after him the grizzled veteran, whoseemed reluctant, and looked unusually stern. 

"It's my mother and father, you know, " said Frank. "They want to shakehands with you. "

"What do they care for me?" said the old man, frowning. 

Frank persisted, and introduced his father. The veteran returned Mr. Manly's salute with rigid military courtesy, without relaxing a muscle ofhis austere countenance. 

"And this is my mother, " said Frank. 

With still more formal and lofty politeness, the old man bent his martialfigure, and quite raised his cap from his old gray head. 

"Madam, your very humble servant!"

"Mr. St. John!" exclaimed Mrs. Manly, in astonishment. "Is it possiblethat this is my old friend St. John?"

"Madam, " said the veteran, with difficulty keeping up his cold, formalexterior, "I hardly expected you would do me the honor to remember one sounworthy;" bending lower than before, and raising his hat again, whilehis lips twitched nervously under his thick mustache. 

"Why, where did you ever see him, mother?" cried Frank, with eagerinterest. 

"Mr. St. John was an old friend of your grandfather's, Frank. Surely, sir, you have not forgotten the little girl you used to take on yourknee and feed with candy?"--for the old man was still looking severeand distant. 

"I have not forgotten many pleasant things--and some not so pleasant, which I would have forgotten by every body. " And the old drummer gavehis mustache a vindictive pull. 

"Be sure, " said Mrs. Manly, "I remember nothing of you that was not kindand honorable. I think you must have known who my son was, you have beenso good to him. But why did you not inform him, or me through him, who_you_ were? I would have been so glad to know about you. "

"I hardly imagined that. "--The old cynical smile curled the heavymustache. --"And if I could be of any service to your son, it was needlessfor you to know of it. I was Mr. St. John when you knew me; but I amnobody but Old Sinjin now. Madam, I wish you a very good-day, and muchhappiness. Your servant, sir!"

And shaking hands stiffly, first with Mrs. Manly, then with her husband, the strange old man stalked away. 

"Who is he? what is it about him?" asked Frank, stung with curiosity. "Never did _I_ think _you_ knew _Old Sinjin_. "

"Your father knows about him, and I will tell _you_ some time, " saidMrs. Manly, her eyes following the retreating figure with looks of deepcompassion. "In the mean time, be very kind to him, very gentle andrespectful, my son. "

"I will, " said Frank, "but it is all so strange! I can't understand it. "

"Well, never mind now. Here is Captain Edney talking with Helen and Mr. Egglestone, and Willie is playing with his scabbard. Pretty wellacquainted this young gentleman is getting!" said Mrs. Manly, hasteningto take the child away from the sword. 

"Pitty thord! pitty man!" lisped Willie, who had fallen violently in lovewith the captain and his accoutrements. "Me and Helen, we like pitty man!We go with pitty man!"

Helen blushed; while the captain, laughing, took a piece of money fromhis pocket and gave it to Willie for the compliment. 

Frank, who had been absent a moment, now joined the group, evidently muchpleased at something. 

"The funniest thing has happened! A fellow in our company, --and one ofthe best fellows he is too! but I can't help laughing!--he met his girlto-day, and they suddenly took it into their heads to get married; sothey sent two of their friends to get their licenses for them, one, oneway, and the other another way, for they live in different places. Andthe fellow's license has come, and the girl's hasn't, and they wouldn'thave time to go to a minister's now if it had. It is too bad! but isn'tit funny? The fellow is one of my very best friends. I wrote to you abouthim; Abe Atwater. There he is, with his girl!"

And Frank pointed out the tall young soldier, standing stately andtaciturn, but with a strong emotion in that usually mild, grave face ofhis, perceptible enough to those who knew him. His girl was at his side, crying. 

"How I pity her!" said Helen. "But he takes it coolly enough, I shouldthink. "

"He takes every thing that way, " said Frank; "but you can't tell much byhis face how he feels, though I can see he is biting hard to keep hisheart down now, straight as he stands. "

"I'll speak to her, " said Helen; and while Frank accosted Atwater, shemade acquaintance with the girl. 

"Yes, " said the soldier, "it would be better to know I was leaving a wifebehind, to think of me and look for my coming back. But I never knew shecared so much for me; and now it's too late. "

"To think, " said the girl to Helen, "he has loved me all along, but nevertold me, because he thought I wouldn't have him! And now he is going, andmay be I shall never see him again! And we want to be married, and mylicense hasn't come!" And she poured out her sorrows into the bosom ofthe sympathizing Helen, with whom suffering and sympathy made her at onceacquainted. 

Just then the signal sounded for the train to be in readiness to start. And there were hurried partings, and tears in many a soldier's eye. AndFrank's mother breathed into his ear her good-by counsel and blessing. And Atwater was bidding his girl farewell, when a man came bounding alongthe platform with a paper in his hand--the marriage license. 

"Too late now!" said Atwater, with a glistening smile. "We are off!"

"But here is a minister!" cried Helen, --"Mr. Eggleston!--O, CaptainEdney! have the train wait until this couple can be married. It won'ttake a minute!"

The case of the lovers was by this time well understood, not only byCaptain Edney and Mr. Egglestone, but also by the conductor of the trainand scores of soldiers and citizens. An interested throng crowded towitness the ceremony. The licenses were in the hands of the minister, andwith his musket at _order arms_ by his right side, and his girl at hisleft, Atwater stood up to be married, as erect and attentive as if he hadbeen going through the company drill. And in a few words Mr. Egglestonemarried them, Frank holding Atwater's musket while he joined hands withhis bride. 

In the midst of the laughter and applause which followed, the soldier, with unchanging features, fumbled in his pocket for the marriage fee. Hegave it to Mr. Egglestone, who politely handed it to the bride. But shereturned it to her husband. 

"You will need it more than I shall, Abram!"--forcing it, in spite ofhim, back into his pocket. "Good-by!" she sobbed, kissing him. "Good-by, my husband!"

This pleasing incident had served to lighten the pain of Frank's partingwith his friends. When sorrowful farewells are to be said, no matter howquickly they are over. And they were over now; and Frank was on thedeparting train, waving his cap for the last time to the friends he couldnot see for the tears that dimmed his eyes. 

And the cars rolled slowly away, amid cheers which drowned the sound ofweeping. And the bride who had had her husband for a moment only, andlost him--perhaps forever, --and the mother who had given her son to hercountry, --perhaps never to receive him back, --and other wives, andmothers, and fathers, and sisters, were left behind, with all the untoldpangs of grief and anxious love in their hearts, gazing after the longswift train that bore their loved ones away to the war. 

 VIII. 

 ANNAPOLIS. 

And the train sped on; and the daylight faded fast; and darkness shutdown upon the world. And still the train sped on. 

When it was too dark to see any thing out of the car windows, and Frankwas tired of the loud talking around him, he thought he would amusehimself by nibbling a little "hard tack. " So he opened his haversack, anddiscovered the cake, and bread and butter, and cold lamb, with which someone who loved him had stored it. He was so moved by this evidence ofthoughtful kindness that it was some time before be could make up hismind to break in upon the little stock of provisions, which there wasreally more satisfaction in contemplating than in eating any ordinarysupper. But the sight of some of his comrades resorting for solace totheir rations decided him, and he shared with them the contents of hishaversack. 

The train reached Fall River at nine o'clock, and the passengers weretransferred to the steamer "Metropolis. " The boat was soon swarming withsoldiers, stacking their arms, and hurrying this way and that in thelamp-light. Then the clanking of the engine, the trembling of thesteamer, and the sound of rushing water, announced that they were oncemore in motion. 

Frank had never been on salt water before, and he was sorry this was inthe night; but he was destined before long to have experience enough ofthe sea, both by night and by day. 

When he went upon deck the next morning, the steamer was cutting her waygayly through the waters of New York harbor, --a wonderful scene to theuntravelled drummer boy, who had never before witnessed such an animatedpicture of dancing waters, ships under full sail, and steamboats trailinglong dragon-tails of smoke in the morning air. 

Then there was the city, with its forests of masts, its spires risingdimly in the soft, smoky atmosphere that shrouded it, and the far, faintsound of its bells musically ringing. 

Then came the excitement of landing; the troops forming, and, after apatriotic reception by the "Sons of Massachusetts, " marching through thecity to the barracks; then dinner; and a whole afternoon of sight-seeingafterwards. 

The next day the regiment was off again, crossing the ferry, and takingthe cars for Philadelphia. From Philadelphia it kept on into the nightagain, until it reached a steamer, in waiting to receive it, onChesapeake Bay. 

The next morning was rainy; and the rain continued all day, pouringdismally; and it was raining still when, at midnight, the boat arrived atAnnapolis. In the darkness and storm the troops landed, and took up theirtemporary quarters in the Naval Academy. In one of the recitation halls, Frank and his comrades spread their blankets on the floor, put theirknapsacks under their heads, and slept as soundly after their wearisomejourney as they ever did in their beds at home. Indeed, they seemed tofall asleep as promptly as if by word of command, and to snore byplatoons. 

The next morning the rain was over. At seven o'clock, breakfast; afterwhich the regiment was reviewed on the Academy parade. Then Frank and asquad of jovial companions set out to see the town, --taking care to havewith them an intelligent young corporal, named Gray, who had been therebefore, and knew the sights. 

"Boys, " said young Gray, as they sallied forth, "we are now in QueenAnne's city, --for that, I suppose you know, is what the word Annapolismeans. It was the busiest city in Maryland once; but, by degrees, all itstrade and fashion went over to Baltimore, and left the old town to go tosleep, --though it has woke up and rubbed its eyes a little since therebellion broke out. "

"When was you here, Gray?" asked Jack Winch. 

Gray smiled at his ignorance, while Frank said, --

"What! didn't you know, Jack, he was here with the Eighth Massachusetts, last April, when they saved Washington and the Union?"

"The Union ain't saved yet!" said Jack. 

"But we saved Washington; that's every where admitted, " said Gray, proudly. "On the 19th of April the mob attacked the Sixth Massachusettsin Baltimore, took possession of the city, and destroyed thecommunication with Washington. You remember that, for it was the firstblood shed in this war; and April 19, 1861, takes its place with April19, 1775, when the first blood was shed at Lexington, in the Revolution. "

"Of course I know all that!" said Jack, who never liked to be thoughtignorant of any thing. 

"Well, there was the government at Washington in danger, the EighthMassachusetts on its way to save it, and Baltimore in the hands of therebels. I tell you, every man of us was furious to cut our way through, and avenge the murders of the 19th. But General Butler hit upon a wiserplan, and instead of keeping on to Baltimore, we switched off, seized aferry-boat on the Chesapeake, just as she was about to be taken by thesecessionists, ran down here to Annapolis, saved the city, saved the oldfrigate 'Constitution, ' and, with the New York Seventh, went to work toopen a new route to Washington. 

"Our boys repaired the railroad track, which the traitors had torn up, and put in shape again the engine they had disabled. We had men thatcould do anything; and that very engine was one they had made, --for theSouth never did its own engine-building, but sent to Massachusetts tohave it done. Charley Homans knew every joint and pin in that oldmachine, and soon had her running over the road again. "

"How far is it to Washington?" asked Frank. 

"About forty miles; but then we thought it a hundred, we were soimpatient to get there! What a march we had! all day and all night, theengine helping us a little, and we helping the engine by hunting up andreplacing now and then a stray rail which the traitors had torn from thetrack. A good many got used up, and Charley Homans took 'em aboard thetrain. It was on that march I fell in with one of the pleasantest fellowsI ever saw; always full of wit and good-humor, with a cheery word forevery body. He belonged to the New York Seventh. He told me his name wasWinthrop. But I did not know till afterwards that he was TheodoreWinthrop, the author; afterwards Major Winthrop, who fell last June--onlytwo months after--at Big Bethel. "

"It was a North Carolina drummer boy that shot him, " said Frank. "Winthrop was heading the attack on the battery; he jumped upon a log, and was calling to the men, 'Come on!' when the drummer boy took a gun, aimed deliberately, and shot him dead. "

"I wouldn't want to be killed by a miserable drummer boy!" said JackWinch, envious because Frank remembered the incident. 

"A drummer boy may be as brave as any body, " said Frank, keeping histemper. "But I wouldn't want to be even the bravest drummer boy, in a badcause. "

"And as for being shot, " said Gray, "I think Jack wouldn't willinglyplace himself where there was much danger of being killed by any body. "

"You'll see! you'll see!" said Jack, testily. "Just wait till the timecomes. "

"What water is this the town fronts on?" asked Frank. 

"The Chesapeake, of course! Who don't know that?" said Jack, contemptuously. 

"Only it ain't!" said Gray, with a quiet laugh. "This is the RiverSevern. The Chesapeake is some two miles below. "

"There, Jack, " said Ned Ellis, "I'd give up now. You don't know quite somuch as you thought you did. "

"What a queer old town it is, " said Frank, generously wishing to drawattention from Jack's mortification. "It isn't a bit like Boston. Itdon't begin to be as smart a place. "

"Of course not!" said Jack, more eager than ever now to appear knowing. "And why should it be? Boston is the capital of Massachusetts; and ifAnnapolis was only the capital of this state, it would be smart enough. "

"What is the capital of this state?" asked Gray, winking slyly at Frank. 

"Baltimore! I thought every body knew that, " said Jack, with an air ofimportance. 

This ludicrous blunder raised a great laugh. 

"O Jack! O Jack Winch! where did you go to school?" said Joe Harris, "notto know that Frederick is the capital of Maryland. "

"So it is! I had forgotten, " said Jack. "Of course I knew Frederick wasthe capital, if I had only thought. "

At this the boys laughed louder than ever, and Jack flew into a passion. 

"Harris was fooling you, " whispered Frank. "Annapolis is the capital. Gray is taking us now to see the State House. "

"Ha, ha, ha!" Winch suddenly burst forth. "Did you think I didn't know?Annapolis is the capital; and there's the State House. "

"Is it possible?" said Gray. "The rebels must have changed it then, forthat was St. John's College when I was here before. "

The boys shouted with merriment; all except Jack, who was angry. He hadbeen as fickle at his studies, when at school, as he had always been atevery thing else; never sticking long to any of them, but foreverbeginning something new; until, at last, ignorant of all, he gave up, declaring that he had knowledge enough to get through the world with, andthat he wasn't going to bother his brain with books any longer. It addednow to his chagrin to think that he had not education enough to preventhim from appearing ridiculous among his mates, and that the goldenopportunity of acquiring useful information in his youth was lostforever. 

Meanwhile Frank's reflections were very different. Gray's reminiscencesof April had strongly impressed upon his mind the fact that he was now onthe verge of his country's battle-fields; that this was the first soilthat had been wrested from the grasp of treason, and saved for theUnion, --that the ground he stood upon was already historic. And now thesight of some negroes reminded him that he was for the first time in hislife in a _slave state_. 

"These are the fellows that are the cause of this war, " said Gray, indicating the blacks. 

"Yes, " said Winch, anxious to agree with him, "it's the abolitioniststhat have brought the trouble on the country. They insisted oninterfering with the rights of the south, and so the south rebelled. "

"We never interfered with slavery in the states where it belonged, " saidFrank, warmly. "The north opposed the extension of slavery over newterritory, and took the power of the government out of the hands of theslaveholders, who had used it for their own purposes so long; and that iswhat made them rebel. "

"Well, the north is partly to blame, " insisted Jack, thinking he had Grayon his side. 

"Yes; to blame for letting the slaveholders have their own way so long, "said Frank. "And just as much to blame for this rebellion, as my fatherwould be for my conduct, if he should attempt to enforce discipline athome, and I should get mad at it and set the house on fire. "

"A good comparison, " said Gray. "Because we were going to restore thespirit of the constitution, which is for freedom, and always was, thoughit has been obliged to tolerate slavery, the slaveholders, as Frank says, got mad and set Uncle Sam's house afire. "

"He had heard somebody else say so, or he wouldn't have thought of it, "said Jack, sullenly. 

"No matter; it's true!" said Gray. "The south is fighting forslavery, --the corner-stone of the confederacy, as the rebelvice-president calls it, --while the north----"

"We are fighting for the Constitution and the Union!" said Jack. 

"That's true, too; for the constitution, as I said, means freedom; andnow the Union means, union _without_ slavery, since we have seen thatunion with slavery is impossible. We are fighting for the same thing ourforefathers fought for--Liberty!"

"They won liberty for the whites only, " said Frank. "Now we are going tohave liberty for all men. "

"If I had a brother that was a slaveholder and secessionist, I wouldn'tsay any thing, " sneered Jack. 

Frank felt cut by the taunt; but he said, gayly, --

"I won't spoil a story for relation's sake! Come, boys, politics don'tsuit Jack, so let's have a song; the one you copied out of the newspaper, Gray. It's just the thing for the occasion. "

Franks voice was a fine treble; Gray's a mellow bass. Others joined them, and the party returned to the Academy, singing high and clear thesewords:--

 "The traitor's foot is on thy shore, Maryland, my Maryland! His touch is on thy senate door, Maryland, my Maryland! Avenge the patriotic gore That stained the streets of Baltimore, When vandal mobs our banners tore, Maryland, my Maryland!

 "Drum out thy phalanx brave and strong, Maryland, my Maryland! Drum forth to balance right and wrong, Maryland, my Maryland! Drum to thy old heroic song, When forth to fight went Freedom's throng. And bore the spangled flag along, Maryland, my Maryland!"

"That's first rate!" said Frank, who delighted in music. "Gray alteredthe words a little, and Mr. Sinjin found us the tune. "

"Frank likes any thing that has a drum in it, " said John Winch, enviously. "He'll get sick of drums, though, soon enough, I guess. "

"Jack judges me by himself, " said Frank, gayly, setting out to run a racewith Gray to the parade-ground. 

 IX. 

 THANKSGIVING IN CAMP. 

St. John's College stands on a beautiful eminence overlooking the city. The college, like the naval school, had been broken up by the rebellion;its halls and dormitories were appropriated to government uses, and theregiment was removed thither the next day. 

"You will be surprised, " Frank wrote home, "to hear that I have beenthrough the naval school since I came here, and that I am now incollege. "

Few boys get through college as quick as he did. On the following day theregiment abandoned its new quarters also, and encamped two miles withoutthe city. In the afternoon the tents were pitched; and where was only abarren field before, arose in the red sunset light the canvas city, withits regular streets, its rows of tent doors opening upon them, and itsanimated, laughing, lounging, working inhabitants. 

The next morning was fine. All around the camp were pleasant growths ofpine, oak, gum, and persimmon trees, and now and then a tree festoonedwith wild grape-vines. Near by were a few scattered ancient-lookingfarm-houses, with their out-door chimneys, dilapidated out-buildings, negro huts, and tobacco fields. There were several other regiments in thevicinity, --two of Massachusetts boys. And there the New York Zouaves, intheir beautiful Oriental costumes, were encamped. Frank climbed a tree, and looked far around on the picturesque and warlike scene. The pickets, which had gone out the night before, now returning, discharged theirloaded pieces at targets, the reports blending musically with the nearand distant roll of drums. 

"What is the cheering for?" asked Frank, as he came in that day from aramble in the woods. 

"For General Burnside, " said Gray. "All the troops rendezvousing atAnnapolis are to be under his command, to be called the Coast Division. It is to be another Great Armada; and our colonel thinks we shall seefighting soon. "

This good news had made the regiment almost wild with joy; for it desirednothing so much as to be led against the enemy by some brave and famousgeneral. 

Frank loved the woods; and the next day he induced his companions to gowith him and hunt for nuts and fruits. Although it was late in autumn, there were still persimmons and wild grapes to be had, and walnuts, andbutternuts. But Frank had another object in view than that of simplypleasing his appetite. Thanksgiving day, which is bred in the bones ofthe New Englander, and which he carries with him every where, was athand, and the drummer boy had thought of something which he fancied wouldsuit well the festal occasion. 

"What are you there after?" said John Winch, from a persimmon tree;"filling your hands with all that green stuff. Come here; O, these littleplums are delicious, I tell you. "

"These grapes are the thing, " said Harris, from another tree. "I'm goingto eat all I can; then I'm going to get my pockets full of nuts and carryback to camp. "

Frank busied himself in his own way, however, and returned to camp withhis arms loaded with evergreens. 

"What in time are you about?" said Winch, as Frank set himselfindustriously to work with twigs and strings. "Oh, I know; wreaths! Boys, le's make some wreaths. Give me some of your holly, won't you, Frank?"

"Yes, " said Frank, "take all you want to use. I shall be very glad tohave you help me. "

"Will you show me how?"

"Yes, " said Frank; "sit down here. Bend your twigs and tie them together, in the first place, for a frame. Then bind the holly on it, this way. "

"O, ain't it fun?" said Winch, with his usual enthusiasm over a newthing. "When we get these evergreens used up, we'll get some more, andmake wreaths for all the tents. " He worked for about ten minutes; thenbegan to yawn. "Where's my pipe? I'm going to have a smoke. How can youhave patience with that nonsense, Frank? What's the use of a wreath, anyhow, after it's made? Girl's play, I call it. "

And off went Winch, having used up a ball of Frank's strings to nopurpose, and leaving his wreath half finished. 

But Frank, never easily discouraged, kept cheerfully at work, leaving histask only when duty called him. 

Thursday came, --THANKSGIVING. A holiday in camp. The regiment had madeample preparations to celebrate it. Instead of pork and salt junk, themen were allowed turkeys; and in place of boiled hominy and molasses, they had plum pudding. And they feasted, and told gay stories, and sangbrave songs, and thought of home, where parents, wives, sisters, andfriends were, they fondly believed, eating turkey and plum pudding atthe same time, and thinking of them. There was no drill that day; and nopractise with any drumsticks but those of the devoted turkeys. 

One of the most pleasing incidents of the day occurred in the morning. This was the presentation of wreaths. Frank had made one for each of thecompany tents, and a fine one for Captain Edney, and one equally fine forMr. Sinjin, the drum-major, and a noble one for the colonel of theregiment. He presented them all in person, except the last, which herequested Captain Edney to present for him. The captain consented, and atthe head of a strong delegation of officers and men, proceeded to Colonel----'s tent, called him out, and made a neat little speech, and presentedthe wreath on the end of his sword. 

The colonel seemed greatly pleased. 

"I accept this wreath, " he said, "as the emblemof a noble thought, whichI am sure must have inspired our favorite young drummer boy in makingit. "

Frank blushed like a girl with surprise and pleasure at this unexpectedcompliment. 

"The wreath, " continued the colonel, "is the crown of victory; and wewill hang up ours, my fellow-soldiers, on this memorable Thanksgivingday, as beautiful and certain symbols of the success of BURNSIDE'SEXPEDITION. "

This short speech was greeted with enthusiastic applause. Frank wasdelighted with the result of his little undertaking, feeling himself athousand times repaid for all his pains; while John Winch, seeing him insuch high favor with every body, could not help regretting, with many ajealous pang, that he had not assisted in making the wreaths, and sobecome one of the heroes of the occasion. 

That evening another incident occurred, not less pleasing to the drummerboy. With a block of wood for a seat, and the head of his drum for adesk, he was writing a letter to his mother, by a solitary candle, aroundwhich his comrades were playing cards on a table constructed of a roughboard and four sticks. Amid the confusion of laughter and disputes, withheads or arms continually intervening between him and the uncertainlight, he was pursuing his task through difficulties which would havemade many a boy give up in vexation and despair, when a voice suddenlyexclaimed, with startling emphasis, --

"Frank Manly, drummer!" And at the same instant something was thrown intothe tent, like a bombshell, passing the table, knocking over the candle, and extinguishing the light. 

"Well, that's manners, I should say, " cried the voice of Seth Tucket, afellow, as Frank described him, "who makes lots of fun for us, partlybecause he is full of it himself, and partly because he is green, anddon't know any better. " Tucket muttered and spat, then broke forth again, "I be darned ef that pesky football didn't take me right in the face, andspatter my mouth full of taller. "

"Well, save the _taller_, Seth, for we're getting short of candles, " saidFrank. "Here, who is walking on my feet?"

"It's me, " said Atwater. "I'm going out to see who threw that thing in. "

"You're too late, " said Frank. "Strike a light, somebody, and let's seewhat it is. It tumbled down here by my drum, I believe. "

There was a general scratching of matches, and after a while the brokencandle was set up and relighted. 

"I swan to man, " then said Tucket, "jest look at that jack-of-spades. Hegot it in the physiognomy wus'n I did. 'Alas, the mother that him bare, if she had been in presence there, in his _greased cheeks_ and _greasierhair_, she had not known her child. '"

These words from Marmion, aptly altered to suit the occasion, Seth, whowas not so green but that he knew pages of poetry by heart, repeated in ahigh-keyed, nasal sing-song, which set all the boys laughing. 

"A pretty way, too, to _turn up_ Jack, I should say, " he added, inallusion to the candlestick, --a _turnip_, with a hole in it, --which hadrolled over his cards. 

In the mean time, Frank and Jack Winch were scrambling for the missile. 

"Let me have it, " snarled Jack. 

"It's mine; my name was called when it was flung in, " said Frank, maintaining his hold. 

"Well, keep it, then!" said John. "It's nothing but a great wad ofpaper. "

"It's a torpedo! an infernal machine!" cried Tucket. "Look out, Manly!it'll blow us all into the next Fourth of July. "

Frank laughed, as he began to undo the package. The first wrapper was ofbrown paper with these words written upon it, in large characters:--

 "FRANK MANLY, _Drummer_. _Inquire Within. _"

Beneath that wrapper was another, and beneath that another, and so on, apparently an endless series. The boys all gathered around Frank, lookingon as he removed the papers one by one, until the package, originally asbig as his head, had dwindled to the dimensions of his fist. 

"It's got as many peels as an onion, " said Tucket. 

"Nothing but papers. I told ye so!" said Jack Winch. 

But Frank perceived that the core of the package was becomingcomparatively solid and weighty. There was certainly something besidespaper there. What could it be? a stone? But what an odd-shaped stone itwas! Stones are not often of such regular shape, so uniformly round andflattened. He had almost reached the last wrapper; his heart was beatinganxiously; but, before he removed it, he thought he heard a peculiarsound, and held down his ear. A flush of delight overspread hiscountenance, and he clasped the ball in both hands, as if it had beensomething precious. 

"O, boys!" he exclaimed, looking up eagerly for their sympathy, "where_did_ it come from? Atwater, did you see any body?"

Nobody. It was all a mystery. 

"Boys, it's for me, isn't it?" said Frank, still hugging his treasure, asif afraid even of looking at it, lest it should fly away. 

"Come, let's see!" and Winch impatiently made a snatch to get at it. 

Atwater coolly took him by the arm, and pulled him back. Then Frank, carefully as a young mother uncovered the face of her sleeping baby, removed the tinsel paper, which now alone intervened between the objectand his hand, and revealed to the astonished eyes of his comrades a tiny, beautiful, smiling-faced silver watch. 

"O, isn't it a beauty?" said Frank, almost beside himself with delight;for a watch was a thing of which he had greatly felt the need in beatinghis calls, and wished for in vain. "Who could have sent it? Don't youknow, boys, any of you?" he asked, the mystery that came with the giftfilling him with strange, perplexed gladness. 

"All I know is, " said Tucket, "I'd be willing to have six candles, alllit, knocked down my throat, and eat taller for a fortnight, ef such akind of a football, infernal machine, --_watch you call it_, --would onlycome to me. "

"Frank'll feel bigger 'n ever now, with a watch in his pocket, " said theenvious Jack Winch, with a bitter grin. 

All had some remark to make except Atwater, who stood with his arms drawnup under his cape, and smiled down upon Frank well pleased. 

Frank in the mean time was busily engaged in trying to discover, amongall the papers, some scrap of writing by which the unknown donor might betraced. But writing there was none. And the mystery remained unsolved. 

 X. 

 FRANK'S PROGRESS. 

So passed Thanksgiving in camp. 

The next day the boys, with somewhat lugubrious faces, returned to theirhard diet of pork and hominy, heaving now and then a sigh of fondremembrance, as they thought of yesterday's puddings and turkeys. 

And now came other hardships. The days were generally warm, sometimes hoteven, like those of July in New England. But the nights were cold, andgrowing colder and colder as the winter came on. And the tents were but athin shelter, and clothing was scanty, and the men suffered. Many a timeFrank, shivering under his blanket, thought, with a swelling and homesickheart, of Willie in his soft, warm bed, of his mother's inexhaustiblestore of comforters, and of the kitchen stove and the family breakfast, those raw wintry mornings. 

From the day the regiment encamped, the men had expected that they weresoon to move again. But now they determined that, even though they shouldhave orders to march in three days, they would make themselvescomfortable in the mean while. They accordingly set to work constructingunderground stoves, covered with flat stones, with a channel on one sideto convey away the smoke, and a deeper channel on the other for thedraft. These warmed the earth, and kept up an even temperature in thetents all night. 

I said Frank sometimes had homesick feelings. It was not alone thehardships of camp life that caused them. But as yet he had not received asingle letter from his friends, and his longing to get news from them wassuch as only those boys can understand who have never been away from homeuntil they have suddenly gone upon a long and comfortless journey, andwho then begin to realize, as never before, all the loving care of theirparents, the kindness of brothers and sisters, and the blessedness of thedear old nest from which they have untimely flown. 

Owing to the uncertainty of the regiment's destination, Captain Edney hadtold his men to have all their friends' letters to them directed toWashington. There they had been sent, and there, through somemisunderstanding or neglect, they remained. And though a small mail-bagfull had been written to Frank, this was the reason he had never yetreceived one. 

Alas for those missing letters! The lack of them injured Frank moredeeply and lastingly than simply by wounding his heart. For soon thathurt began to heal. He was fast getting used to living without news fromhis family. He consoled himself by entering more fully than he had doneat first into the excitements of the camp. And the sacred influence ofHOME, so potent to solace and to save, even at a distance, was wanting. 

And here begins a portion of Frank's history which I would be glad topass over in silence. But, as many boys will probably read this story whoare not altogether superior to temptation, and who do not yet know howeasy it is for even a good-hearted, honest, and generous lad sometimes toforget his mother's lessons and his own promises, and commence that slow, gradual, downward course, which nearly always begins before we are aware, and from which it is then so hard to turn back; and as many may learnfrom his experience, and so save themselves much shame and their friendsmuch anguish, it is better that Frank's history should be related withoutreserve. 

In the first place, he learned to smoke. He began by taking a whiff, nowand then, out of the pipe of a comrade, just to be in fashion, and tokeep himself warm those chill evenings and mornings. Then a tobaccoplanter gave him, in return for some polite act on his part, a bunch oftobacco leaves, which Frank, with his usual ingenuity, made up intocigars for himself and friends. The cigars consumed, he obtained moretobacco of some negroes, addicted himself to a pipe, and became a regularsmoker. 

Now, I don't mean to say that this, of itself, was a very great sin. Itwas, however, a foolish thing in Frank to form at his age a habit whichmight tyrannize over him for life, and make him in the end, as he himselfonce said to John Winch, "a filthy, tobacco-spitting old man. "

But the worst of it was, he had promised his mother he would not smoke. He thought he had a good excuse for breaking his word to her. "I amsure, " he said, "if she knew how cold I am sometimes, she wouldn't blameme. " Unfortunately, however, when one promise has been broken, and nobodyhurt, another is broken so easily!

Ardent, sympathetic, fond of good-fellowship, Frank caught quickly thespirit of those around him. He loved approbation, and dreaded any thingthat savored of ridicule. He disliked particularly the appellation of"the parson, " which John Winch, finding that it annoyed him, used nowwhenever he wished to speak of him injuriously. Others soon fell into thehabit of applying to him the offensive title, without malice indeed, andfor no other reason, I suppose, than that nicknames are the fashion inthe army. To call a man simply by his honest name seems commonplace; butto christen him the "Owl" if his eyes are big, or "Old Tongs" if his legsare long, or "Step-and-fetch-it" if he suffers himself to be made theunderling and cats-paw of his comrades, --that is considered picturesqueand amusing. 

Frank would have preferred any of these epithets to the one Winch hadfastened upon him. Perhaps it was to show how little he deserved it, that he made his conduct appear as unclerical as possible--smoking, swaggering, and, I am sorry to add, swearing. Imbibing unconsciously thespirit of his companions, and imitating by degrees their habits andconversation, he became profane before he knew it, --excusing himself onthe plea that every body swore in the army. This was only too near thetruth. Men who had never before indulged in profanity, now frequently letslip a light oath, and thought nothing of it. For it is one of the greatevils of war that men, however refined at home, soon forget themselvesamid the hardships, roughness, and turbulence of a soldier's life. Itseems not only to disguise their persons, but their characters also; sothat those vices which would have shocked them when surrounded by theold social influences appear rather to belong to their new rude, halfbarbarous existence. And we all know the pernicious effect when numbersof one sex associate exclusively together, unblessed by the naturallyrefining influence of the other. 

Such being the case with men of years and respectability, we need notwonder that Frank should follow their example. Indeed, from the first, wehad but one strong ground of hope for one so young and susceptible--thathe would remember his pledges to his mother. These violated, the careerof ill begun, where would he end?

Here, however, I should state that Frank never thought, as some boys do, that it is smart and manly to swear. Sometimes we hear a man talk, whomthe vicious habit so controls that he cannot speak without blasphemy. With such, oaths become as necessary a part of speech as articles orprepositions. If deprived of them they are crippled; they seem lost, andcannot express themselves. They are therefore unfit for any society butthat of loafers and brawlers. Such slavery to an idle and foolish customFrank had the sense to detest, even while he himself was coming under itsyoke. 

Here, too, before quitting the subject, justice requires us to bearwitness in favor of those distinguished exceptions to the commonprofanity, all the more honorable because they were few. Although, generally speaking, officers and men were addicted to the practice, thelanguage of here and there an officer, and here and there a private, shone like streaks of unsullied snow amid ways of trodden mire. CaptainEdney never swore. Atwater never did. No profane word ever fell from thelips of young Gray. And there were others whose example in this respectwas equally pure. 

Fortunately, Frank was kept pretty busy these times; else, with thatuneasy hankering for excitement which possesses unoccupied minds, andthat inclination to mischief which possesses unoccupied hands, he mighthave acquired worse vices. 

No doubt some of our young readers will be interested to know what he hadto do. The following were some of his duties:--

At daybreak the _drummer's call_ was beat by the drums of the guard-tent. Frank, though once so profound a sleeper, had learned to wake instantlyat the sound; and, before any of his comrades were astir, he snatched uphis drum, and hurried from the tent. That call was a signal for all thedrummers to assemble before the colors of the regiment, and beat thereveillé. Then Frank and his fellow-drummers practised the _double-quick_for two hours. Then they beat the _breakfast call_. Then they ate theirbreakfast. At eight o'clock they had to turn out again, and beat the_sergeant's call_. At nine o'clock they beat for _guard mounting_. Thenthey practised two hours more at _wheeling_, _double-quick_, _etc_. Theythen beat the _dinner call_. Then they had the pleasure of laying asidethe drumsticks, and taking up the knife and fork once more. After dinnermore _calls_ and similar practice. The time from supper (five o'clock)until the beat for the evening roll-call (at eight), the drummers had tothemselves. After that the men were dismissed for the night, and could goto bed if they chose, --all except the drummers, who must sit up and beatthe _tattoo at nine_. That is the signal for the troops to retire. Thencome the _taps_ (to extinguish lights), beat by each drummer in thecompany, going down the line of tents. 

There were other calls besides those mentioned, such as the company_drill call_, the _adjutants call_, to _the color_, _etc. _, all of whichwere beat differently; so that, as you see, the drummer boy's situationwas no sinecure. 

He found his watch of great assistance to him, in giving him warning ofthe moment to be ready for the stated calls. Although evidently a newwatch, it had been well regulated, and it kept excellent time. The secretdonor of this handsome present was still undiscovered. Sometimes hesuspected the colonel, sometimes Captain Edney; then he surmised that itmust somehow have come to him from home. But all his conjectures andinquiries on the subject were alike in vain; and he enjoyed the exquisitetorment of feeling that he had a lover somewhere who was unknown to him. 

 XI. 

 A CHRISTMAS FROLIC. 

Christmas came. The men had a holiday, but no turkeys, no plum puddings, except such as had come to individuals in private boxes from home. Thesight of these boxes was not very edifying to those who had none. Frank, who was once more in communication with his friends, had expected such abox, and been disappointed. 

"You just come along with me, boys, " said Seth Tucket, "and we'll lay infor as merry a Christmas as any of 'em. It may come a little later inthe day; but patient waiters are no losers, --as the waiter said when hepicked the pockets of the six gentlemen at dinner. "

"What's the fun?" asked the boys, who were generally ready for any sportinto which Seth would lead them. 

He answered them enigmatically. "'_Evil, be thou my good!_'--that's whatMilton's bad angel said. '_Fowl, be thou my fare!_'--that's what I say. "From which significant response, followed by an apt imitation of aturkey-gobbler, the boys understood that he had some device forobtaining poultry for dinner. 

It was a holiday, and I have said, and they had already got permissionto go beyond the lines. There were some twenty of them in all, Frankincluded. Tucket led them to a thicket about two miles from camp, wherethey halted. 

"You see that house yonder? That's where old Buckley lives--the meanestman in Maryland. "

"I know him, " said Frank. "He's a rebel; he threatened to set his dog onus one day. He hates the Union uniform worse than he does the OldScratch. "

"He has got lots of turkeys, " said Ellis, "which he told the sergeanthe'd see die in the pen before he'd sell one to a Yankee. "

"I know where the pen is, " said John Winch; "he keeps 'em shut up, so ourboys shan't steal 'em, and he and his dog and his nigger watch the pen. "

"Well, boys, " said Seth, "now the thing is to get the turkeys. As rebelproperty, it's our duty to confiscate 'em, and use 'em for the support ofthe Union cause. Now I've an idee. I'll go over in the woods there, andwait, while one of you goes to the house and asks him if he has got anyturkeys to sell. He'll say no, of course. Then ask him if you may havethe one out in the woods there. He'll say there ain't none in the woods;but you must insist there is one, and say if 'tain't his you'll take it, and settle with the owner when he calls. That'll start him, and I'll seethat he goes into the woods fur enough, so that the rest of you can rushup, grab every man his turkey, and skedaddle. Winch 'll show you the way;he says he knows the pen. 'Charge, Ellis, charge! On, Harris, on! Shallbe the words of private John. ' But who'll go first to the house?" askedSeth, coming down from the high key in which he usually got off hispoetry. 

"Let Frank, " said Harris; "for he knows the man. "

"He? He dasn't go!" sneered Jack. "He's afraid of the dog. "

This base imputation decided Frank to undertake the errand, which, afterall, notwithstanding the danger attending it, was less repugnant to hisfeelings than more direct participation in the robbery. 

Seth departed to ensconce himself in the woods. Frank then went on to thesecessionists house, quieting his conscience by the way with reflectionslike these: It was owing to such men as this disloyal Marylander that theUnion troops were now suffering so many hardships. The good thingspossessed by traitors, or by those who sympathised with traitors, werefairly forfeited to patriots who were giving their blood to theircountry. Stealing, in such a case, was no robbery. And so forth, and soforth--sentiments which prevailed pretty generally in the army. Besides, there was fun in the adventure; and with boys a little fun covers amultitude of sins. 

The fun, however, was considerably dampened, on Frank's part, as heapproached the house. "Bow, wow!" suddenly spoke the deep, dreadful tonesof the rebel mastiff. He hated the national uniform as intensely as hismaster did, and came bounding towards Frank as if his intention was toeat him up at once. 

Now, the truth is, Frank was afraid of the dog. His heart beat fast, hisflesh felt an electric chill, and there was a curious stirring in theroots of his hair. The dog came right on, bristling up as large as twodogs, opening his ferocious maw, and barking and growling terribly. Thenthe fun of the thing was still more dampened, to the boy's appreciation, by a sudden suspicion. Why had his companions thrust the most perilouspart of the enterprise upon him, the youngest of the party? It was mean;it was cowardly; and the whole affair was intended to make sport for therest, by getting him into a scrape. So, at least, thought Frank. 

"But I'll show them I've got some pluck, " said something within him, proud and determined. 

To fear danger is one thing. To face it boldly, in spite of that fear, isquite another. The first is common; the last is rare as true courage. Thedog came straight up to Frank, and Frank marched straight up to the dog. 

"Even if I had known he would bite, " said Frank, afterwards, "I'd havedone it. " For he did not know at the time that this was the very best wayto avoid being bitten. The dog, astonished by this straightforwardproceeding, and probably thinking that one who advanced unflinchingly, with so brave a face, without weapons, must have honest business with hismaster, stepped aside, and growlingly let him pass. 

"Where's your master?" said Frank, coolly, to an old negro, who wasshuffling across the yard. "I want to see him a minute. "

"Yes, massa, " said the black, pulling at his cap, and bowingobsequiously. 

He disappeared, and presently "old Buckley" came out, looking worthy tobe the dog's master. 

"Perhaps, " thought Frank, "if I treat him in the same way, he won't bite, either;" and he walked straight up to him. The biped did not bark orgrowl, as the quadruped had done, but he looked wickedly at the intruder. 

"How about those turkeys?" said Frank. 

"What turkeys?" returned the man, surlily. 

"It is Christmas now, and I thought you might be ready to sell some ofthem, " continued Frank, nothing daunted. 

"I've no turkeys to sell, " said the man. 

"But you had a lot of them, " said Frank. 

"I had fifty. " Buckley looked sternly at Frank, and continued: "Half ofthem have been stolen by you Yankee thieves. And you know it. "

"Stolen! If that isn't too bad!" exclaimed Frank. "I am sure I have neverhad one of them. Are you certain they have been stolen? I heard a gobblerover in the woods here, as I came along. "

"You did?" said the man. 

Frank thought it only a very white lie he was telling, having heard, atall events, a very good imitation of a gobbler. He repeated roundly hisassertion. The man regarded him with a steady scowling scrutiny for neara minute, his surly lips apart, his hands thrust into his pockets. Frank, who could speak the truth with as clear and beautiful a brow as ever wasseen, could not help wincing a little under the old fellow's slow, sullen, suspicious observation. 

"Boy, " said the man, without taking his hands from his pockets, "you're alying to me!"

"Very well, " said Frank, turning on his heel, "if you think so, then Isuppose it isn't your turkey. "

"And what are you going to do about it?" said the man. 

"The federal army, " said Frank, with a smile, "has need of that turkey. Ishall take him, and settle with the owner when he turns up. "

And he walked off. The man was evidently more than half convinced therewas a turkey in the woods--probably one that had escaped when a part ofhis flock was stolen. 

"Toby, " said he, "fetch my gun. "

The old negro trotted into the house, and trotted out again, bringing adouble-barrelled shot-gun, which Frank did not like the looks of at all. 

"There's some Yankee trick here, " said the secessionist, cocking thepiece, and carefully putting a cap on each barrel; "but I reckon they'llfind me enough for 'em. Toby, you stay here with the dog, and take careof things. Now, boy, march ahead there, and show me that gobbler. "

The old negro grinned. So did his master, in a way Frank did not fancy. It was a morose, menacing, savage grin--a very appropriate prelude, Frankthought, to a shot from behind out of that two-barrelled fowling-piece. But it was too late now to retreat. So, putting on a bold and confidentair, he started for the woods, followed by the grim man with the gun. 

His sensations by the way were not greatly to be envied. He had neverfelt, as he afterwards expressed it, so _streaked_ in his life. By thatterm I suppose he alluded to those peculiar thrills which sometimescreep over one, from the scalp to the ankles, when some great danger isapprehended. For it was evident that this man was in deadly earnest. Tramp, tramp, he came after Frank, with his left hand on the stock ofhis gun, the other on the lock, ready to pop him over the moment heshould discover he had been trifled with. No doubt their departure hadbeen watched by the boys from the thicket, and the unlucky drummerexpected every moment to hear the alarm of a premature attack upon theturkey-pen, which would, unquestionably, prove the signal for his ownimmediate execution. 

"He will shoot me first, " thought Frank, "to be revenged; then he'll ranback to defend his property. "

And now, although he had long since made up his mind that he was willingto die, if necessary, fighting for his country, his whole soul shrunkwith fear and dread from the shameful death, in a shameful cause, withwhich he was menaced. 

"_Shot, by a secessionist, in the act of stealing turkeys. _" How wouldthat sound, reported to his friends at home?

"_Shot while gallantly charging the enemy's battery_. " How differentlythat would read! and the poor boy wished that he had let the miserableturkeys alone, and waited to try his fortunes on the battle-field. 

However, being once in the scrape, although the cause was a bad one, hedetermined to show no craven spirit. With a heart like hot lead withinhim, he marched with every appearance of willingness and confidence intothe woods, regarding the gun no more than if it had been designed for theobvious purpose of shooting the gobbler. 

"When we come in sight of him, " said Frank, "let me shoot him, won'tyou?"

"H'm! I reckon I'll give you a shot!" muttered the man, with darklydubious meaning. 

"I wish you would, " said Frank. "Our boys have two cartridges apiecegiven them every day now, and they practise shooting at a target. But asI am a drummer, I don't have any chance to shoot. There's your turkeynow. "

In fact an unmistakable gobble was just then heard farther on in thewoods. 

"May I take the gun and go on and shoot him?" Frank asked, with aninnocent air. 

And he stopped, determined now to get behind the man, if he could notobtain the gun. 

The rebel laughed grimly at the idea of giving up his weapon. But thesound of the turkey, together with the boy's cool and self-possessedconduct, had so far deceived him that he no longer drove Frank inexorablybefore him, but permitted him to walk by his side, and even to lag alittle behind. 

"Gobble, obble, obble!" said the turkey, behind some bushes, stillseveral rods off. 

"Yes, that's my turkey!" said the man, ready enough to claim the unseenfowl. 

"How do you know he is yours?" asked Frank. 

"I know his gobble. One I had stole gobbled jest like that. " And thesecessionist's stern features relaxed a little. 

Frank's relaxed a little, too; for, serious as his dilemma had seemeda minute since, he could not but be amused by the man's undoubtingrecognition of _that_ gobble. 

"All turkeys make a noise alike, " said Frank. 

"No they don't, no they don't!" said the man, positively, --no doubtfearing a plot to get the fowl away from him, and anxious to set up hisclaim in season. "I reckon I know about turkeys. Hear that?"--as thesound was heard again, still at a distance. "That's my bird. I shouldknow that gobble among five hundred. "

Frank suppressed his merriment, thinking that now was his time to getaway. 

"Well, " said he, "unless you'll sell me the bird, I don't know thatthere's any use of my going any farther with you. "

He expected a repetition of the refusal to sell, when he would have thebest excuse in the world for making his escape. But Buckley was stillsuspicious of some trick, --fearing, perhaps, that Frank would run off andget help to secure the turkey. 

"We'll see; we'll see. Wait till we get the bird, " said the man. "You'vedone me a good turn telling me about him, and mayhap I'll sell him to youfor your honesty. But wait a bit; wait a bit. "

They were fast approaching the bushes where the supposed turkey was. 

"Quit, quit, quit! Gobble, obble, obble!" said the pretended fowl. 

"He _must_ know now, " thought Frank, with renewed apprehension; but hedared not run. 

In fact, the old fellow was beginning to see that his recognition of_his_ gobbler had been premature. A patch of blue uniform was visiblethrough the brush. The rebel stopped, and drew up his gun. As Hamletkilled Polonius for a rat, so would he kill a Yankee for a turkey. Click! the piece was cocked and aimed. 

"Here, you old clodhopper, you; don't you shoot! don't you shoot!"screamed Seth Tucket, rushing wildly out of the bushes just as the rebelpulled the trigger. 

 XII. 

 THE SECESSIONIST'S TURKEYS. 

In the mean time the boys watching from their ambush, and seeing that therebel had gone off with Frank, but left his dog and negro behind, armedthemselves with clubs. When all was ready, Winch gave the word, andforward they dashed at the doublequick, clearing more than half the spaceintervening between them and the barns, before they were discovered bythe enemy. Then the dog bounded out with a bark, and the old negro beganto "holler, " and the rebel's wife and daughter ran out and screamed, andan old negress also appeared, brandishing a broom, and adding her voiceto the chorus. 

At this moment the report of a gun came from the direction in which thesecessionist had gone off with Frank. 

John Winch heard it, just as the dog met the charging party. Who waskilled? Frank or Seth? John did not know, but he was frightened. He hadcome for fun and poultry, not for fighting and bullets. Neither was heparticularly ambitions to be bitten by that monstrous dog. He lost faithin his club, and dropped it. He lost confidence in the prowess of hiscompanions, and deserted them. In short, Jack Winch, who had been one ofthe most eager to engage in the adventure, took ignominiously to hisheels. 

He reached the thicket before venturing to look behind him. Then he sawthat his comrades had frightened away the negro, beaten back the dog, andtaken the turkey-pen by storm. He would now have been but too glad tojoin them; but it was too late. Having accomplished their undertaking, they were returning, each bringing, pendent by the legs, a flopping fowl. 

It is better to be a brave man than a coward, even in a bad cause. Fortune often favors brave men in the wrong in preference to aidingcowards in the right, for Fortune loves not a poltroon. John Winch feltat that moment that nobody henceforth would love or favor him, and hebegan to frame excuses for his shameful conduct. 

"Hello, Jack Winch, " cried Ellis, coming up with a turkey in one handand a chicken in the other, "you're a smart leader--to run away from ayelping dog like that!"

"Coward! coward!" chimed in the others, with angry contempt. 

"I sprained my ankle. Didn't you know it?" said the miserable Jack, witha writhing countenance, limping. 

"Sprained your granny!" exclaimed Harris. "I never saw a sprained anklego over the ground as fast as yours did, just as we came to the dog. "

"Then I heard the gun, " said Jack, "and I was afraid either Seth or Frankwas shot. "

"Woe to the man of turkeys if they are!" said Joe, twisting the neck ofhis fowl to quiet it. "We'll serve him as I am serving this hen. "

The boys hastened to a rendezvous they had appointed with the absentones, followed by Jack at a very creditable pace, considering hisexcruciating lameness. 

As yet, neither Frank nor Seth had been shot. The charge of buck shotfired from the rebel fowling-piece had entered the bushes just as theblue uniform left them. But the secessionist cocked the other barrel ofhis piece immediately, with the intention of making up for the error ofhis first aim. 

"Shoot me, " shouted Seth, "and you'll be swinging from that limb in fiveminutes!"

The man hesitated, glancing quickly about for those who were expected toput Seth's threat into execution. 

"I've twenty fellows with me, " added Seth, "and they'll string you up inno time, by darn!"

The secessionist was not so much impressed by the rather slender oathwith which Seth clinched his speech, as by the sharp and earnest tone inwhich the whole was uttered, --Seth walking savagely up to him as hespoke. All the while, the alarm raised by the negro, and the dog, and thewomen, was sounding in the man's ears. 

"They're after my turkeys! This is your trick, boy!" and he sprang uponFrank, lifting his gun as if to level him to the earth. 

But Seth sprang after him, and seized the weapon before it descended. That green down-easter was cool as if he had been at a game of ball. Hewas an athletic youth, and he readily saw that Buckley, though a sturdyfarmer, was no match for him. He pushed him back, shouting shrilly, atthe same time, in the words of his favorite poet, --

"'Now, if thou strik'st him but one blow, I'll hurl thee from the brinkas far as ever peasant pitched a bar!'"

This strange form of salutation astonished the rebel even more than therough treatment he received at the hands of the vigorous and poeticalTucket. He saw that it was no time to stay and parley. He knew that histurkeys were going, and, muttering a parting malediction at Frank, he setoff at a run to protect his poultry-yard. 

"Now's our time, " said Tucket, starting for the rendezvous, and strikinginto another quotation from his favorite minstrel, parodied for theoccasion. "'Speed, Manly, speed! the cow's tough hide on fleeter foot wasne'er tied. Speed, Manly, speed! such cause of haste a drummer's sinewsnever braced. For turkey's doom and rebel deed are in thy course--speed, Manly, speed!'"

And speed they did, arriving at the place of meeting just as theircompanions came up with the poultry. 

"Hello, Jack!" said Frank; "what's the matter with you?"

"He stumbled over a great piece of bark, " Ellis answered for Winch. 

"Did you, Jack?"

"Yes!" said Jack, putting on a look of anguish. He had not thought of thebark before, but supposing Ellis had seen such a piece as he spoke of, heaccepted his theory of the stumbling as readily as the rebel hadrecognized in Seth's gobbling one of his own lost turkeys. "And broke myankle, " added Jack. 

"What kind of bark was it? do you know?" said Ellis. 

"No. I was hurt so I didn't stop to look. "

"Well, I'll tell you. It was the dog's bark. " And Ellis and his comradesshouted with laughter, all except poor Jack Winch, who knew too well thatno other kind of bark had checked his progress. 

Then the turkey-stealers had their adventure to relate, and Frank had hisamusing story to tell, and Tucket could brag how near he had come tobeing shot for one of Buckley's gobblers, and all were merry but Jack, who had brought from the field nothing but a counterfeit lameness anddishonor, and who accordingly lagged behind his comrades, sulky and dumb. 

"He limps dreadfully--when any body is looking at him, " said Harris. 

"Nobody killed, and only one wounded, " said Frank. 

"The sight of old Buckley coming with his dog would be better than asurgeon, to cure that wound, " said Tucket. "You'd see Winch leg it faster'n any of us--like the old woman that had the hypo's, and hadn't walked astep for twenty years, and thought she couldn't; but one day her friendsgot up a ghost to scare her, and she ran a mile before they could ketchher. "

Do you know how these jokes, and the laughter that followed, sounded onthe ear of Jack Winch? Even the bark of the rebel mastiff was music incomparison, and his bite would have hurt him less. 

"By the way, " said Seth, "the old skinflint will be after us, sure asguns. Hurry! or we'll hear--'The deep-mouthed bull-dog's heavy bayresounding up the rocky way, and faint, from farther distance borne, thedarned old rebel's dinner horn. ' Give me that chicken, Ellis. And, boys, we must manage some way to smuggle these fowls into camp. I can carrythis chicken under my coat; but how in Sam Hill you'll manage with theturkeys, I don't see. "

"I know, " said Frank, always full of invention. "If nobody else has abetter plan, I've thought of a good one. "

Several devices were suggested, but none met with general approbation. Then Frank explained his. 

"Cover up the turkeys with evergreens, and we will go in with our armsfull, as if we were going to make wreaths for the regiment. "

This plan was agreed upon, and shortly after the adventurers might havebeen seen returning to camp loaded down with boughs and vines. Jack alonecame in empty-handed. Frank had no turkey, and so he threw down his loadoutside the tent, where any one could examine it. 

It was not long before the owner of the turkeys made his appearance, carrying to headquarters his complaint of the robbery. Unfortunately, Frank was not only known as a drummer boy, but he wore the letter of hiscompany on his cap. Besides, his youth rendered his identificationcomparatively easy. As might have been expected, therefore, he was sooncalled to an account. Captain Edney himself came to investigate thematter, accompanied by the secessionist. 

"That's the boy, " said Buckley, with determined vindictiveness, whenFrank was arraigned before him. 

Frank could not help looking a little pale, for he felt that he was in abad scrape, and how he was to get out of it, without either lying orbetraying his accomplices, he could not see. He did not care so muchabout himself, but he would not for any thing have borne witness againstthe others. He had almost made up his mind to tell a sturdy falsehood, ifnecessary, --to stoop to a dishonorable thing in order to avoid another, which he considered even more damaging to his character. For such iscommonly the result of wrongdoing; one step taken, you must take anotherto retrieve that. One foot in the mire, you must put the other in to getthat out. 

However, the drummer boy still hoped that by putting a bold face on thematter, and prevaricating a little, he might still keep clear of thatthing he had been taught always to abhor--a downright untruth. 

"This man brings serious charges against you, Frank, " said Captain Edney. 

"I should think it was for me to bring charges against him, " repliedFrank, trying to look indignant. 

"Why, what has he done to you?" The captain could not help smiling as hespoke, and Frank felt encouraged. 

"He's a rebel of the worst kind. He is always insulting the federaluniform, and he seems to think that whoever wears it is a villain. Hethreatened to set his dog on me the other day, and to-day he was going toknock me down with his gun. "

"What was he going to knock you down for? You must have done something toprovoke him. "

"Yes, I did!" said Frank, boldly. "I went to his house, and asked him, inthe politest way I could, if he would sell us fellows a turkey. I mighthave known that it would provoke him, for he has been heard to say he'drather his turkeys should die in the pen than that a Union soldier shouldhave one, even for money. "

It was evident to the secessionist that instead of making out a caseagainst the boy, the boy was fast making out a case against him. In hisimpatience he broke forth into violent denunciations of Frank, butCaptain Edney stopped him. 

"None of that, sir, or I'll send you out of the camp forthwith. Hesays, "--turning to Frank, --"that you decoyed him into the woods whileyour companions stole his turkeys. "

"Decoyed him?" said Frank. "He may call it what he pleases. I'll tell youjust what I did, sir. He said he hadn't any turkeys. So I said, 'Then theone I heard in the woods, as I came along, isn't yours--is it?'"

"Had you heard one?"

"I had heard a noise so much like one, "--laughing, --"that he himself, when he heard it, was ready to swear it was his gobbler. "

"And was it really a turkey?"

"No, sir. It was Seth Tucket hid behind the bushes. "

Frank was now conscious of making abundant fun for his comrades, who allcrowded around, listening with delight to the investigation. Even CaptainEdney smiled, as he gave a glance at the green-looking, seriously-winkingSeth. 

"So it was you that played the gobbler, Tucket, " said the captain. 

"I hope there wan't no great harm in't ef I did, sir, " replied Seth, withludicrous mock solemnity. "Bein' Christmas so, I thought I'd like alittle bit of turkey, sir, ef 'twant no more than the gobble. And there Iwas, enjoying it all by myself, hevin' a nice time, when this man comesup and lays claim to me for his turkey. "

This sober declaration, uttered in a high key, with certain jerks of thearms and twists of the down-east features, which Seth could use with thedrollest effect, excited unrestrained mirth among the men, and made theofficer's sword-belts shake not a little with the suppressed merrimentinside. 

"What do you mean by his claiming you?" asked the captain. 

"He told Manly I belonged to him, and that some thieving Yankee hadstolen me. " said Seth, with open eyes and mouth, as if he had been makingthe most earnest statement. "Now I'll leave it to any body ef that's so. And I guess that's about all his complaints of hevin' turkeys stoleamounts to; for ef he can make a mistake so easy in my case, he may inothers. Though mabby he means I stole the _gobble_ of one of histurkeys. I own it's a gobble I picked up somewheres, but I didn't know'twas his. " And Tucket drew down his face with an expression ofincorruptible innocence. 

"Well, boys, " said the captain, silencing the laughter, "we have had funenough for the occasion, though it _is_ a merry Christmas. No morebuffoonery. Tucket. Were you aware, Frank, that it was Tucket, and not aturkey, in the bushes, when you took this man to the woods?"

"I rather thought it was Tucket, " said Frank, "though the man stuck to itso stoutly that 'twas his gobbler, I didn't know but----"

"Never mind about that. " The captain saw that it was Frank's object tolead the inquiry back to the ludicrous part of the business, and promptlychecked him. "What was your motive in deceiving him?"

"To have a little fun, sir. "

"Did you not know that there was a design to rob his poultry pen?"

Frank recollected his momentary doubts as to the good faith of hiscompanions, when the dog assailed him, and thought he could make thatuncertainty the base of a strong "No, sir. "

"But you know his pen was robbed?"

"No, sir, I do not know it----, " Frank reflecting as he spoke, that aman cannot really _know_ any thing of which he has not been aneye-witness, and comforting his conscience with the fact that he had not_seen_ the turkeys stolen. 

"Now, "--Captain Edney did not betray by look or word whether he believedor doubted the boy's assertion, --"tell me who was with you in the woods. "

"Seth Tucket, sir. "

"Who else?"

"O, ever so many fellows had been with me. "

"Name them. "

And Frank proceeded to name several who had really been with him thatmorning, but not on the forage after poultry. On being called up andquestioned, they were able to give the most positive testimony, to theeffect that they had neither stolen any fowls themselves nor been withany party that had. In the mean time the sergeant and second lieutenantinstituted a search through the company's tents, and succeeded in findinga solitary turkey, which nobody could give any account of, and whichnobody claimed. This the secessionist identified; averring that therewere also a dozen more, besides several chickens, for which redress wasdue. But not one of them could be discovered, perhaps because they wereso skilfully concealed, but more probably because those who searched werenot anxious to find. 

Captain Edney accordingly paid the man for the loss of the single turkey, which he ordered sent immediately to the hospital. He also told thesecessionist that he would pay him for all the poultry he was ready toswear had been appropriated by the men of his company, provided he wouldfirst take the oath of allegiance to the United States. This Buckleysullenly refused to do, and he was immediately conducted by a guardoutside the lines. Seth Tucket followed at a short distance, saying, ashe put his hand in his pocket, as if to produce some money, "Say, friend!better le' me pay ye for that gobble I stole. Any thing in reason, yeknow. "

But Buckley gave him only a glance of compressed rage, and marched off insilence, with disappointment and revenge in his heart. 

 XIII. 

 THE EXPEDITION MOVES. 

Frank won the greatest credit from his comrades by the manner in whichhe had gone through the investigation. And the fowls, which those whosearched could not discover, found their way somehow to the cooks, andback again to the boys, and were shared among their companions, who hada feast and a good time generally. 

But when all was over, and the excitement which carried Frank throughhad subsided, and it was night, and he lay in the darkness and solitudeof the tent, with his comrades asleep around him, --then came soberreflection; and he thought of the poor man who had lost his turkeys, andwho, for one, had got no fun out of the business; and he remembered thathe had, to all intents and purposes, lied to Captain Edney; and he knewin his heart that he had done a dishonest thing. 

Yes, he had actually been engaged in stealing turkeys. He was guiltyof an act of which, a few weeks before, he would have deemed himselfabsolutely incapable. All the mitigating circumstances of the case, whichhad lately stood out so clear and strong as almost to hide the offencefrom his moral vision, now faded, and shrunk away, and the wrong itselfstood forth, alone, in its undisguised ugliness. 

"What is it to me that the man is a secessionist? That doesn't give usthe right to rob him. He is not in arms against the government; and wedon't know that he assists the rebels in any way, either by giving theminformation or money. Perhaps he had good reason to hate the Unionsoldiers. If he had not before, he has now. I wish I had let his turkeysalone. "

These words Frank did not exactly frame to himself, lying there in thedark and silent tent; but so said the soul within him. And the next daythe culpability of his conduct was brought home still more forcibly tohis conscience by the receipt of a box from home. It contained, besides aturkey, pies, cakes, apples, and letters. And in one of the letters hismother wrote, --

 "I hope these things will reach you by Christmas, and that you will enjoy them, and share them with those who have been good to you, and be very happy. We all think of the hardships you have to go through, and would willingly give up many of our comforts if you could only have them. We shall not have any turkey at Christmas--we shall all be so much happier to think you have one. For I would not have you so much as _tempted_ to do what you say some of the soldiers have done--that is, steal the turkeys belonging to the secessionists. If there are rebels at heart, not yet in open opposition to the government, I would have you treat them kindly, and not provoke them to hate our cause worse than they do already. And always remember that, whatever the government may see fit to do to punish such men, you have no right to interfere with either their private opinions or their private property. "

Why was it that the contents of Frank's Christmas box did not taste sogood to him as he had anticipated? Simply because he could partake ofneither pie nor turkey without the sorry sauce of a reproving conscience. 

He thought to atone for his fault by magnanimity in sharing with otherswhat he could not relish alone. He gave liberally to all his mates, andcarried a large piece of the turkey, together with a generous supply ofstuffing, and an entire mince pie, to his old friend Sinjin. 

Now, Frank had not, for the past month, been on as good terms with theveteran as formerly. The meeting with Mrs. Manly in Boston seemed to haveawakened unpleasant remembrances in the old drummer's mind, and to renderhim unpleasantly stiff and cold towards her son. He had received thethanksgiving wreath with a very formal and stately acknowledgment, andFrank, who knew not what warm torrents might be gushing beneath the sternold man's icy exterior, had kept himself somewhat resentfully aloof fromhim ever since. But he still felt a yearning for their former friendship, and he now hoped, with the aid of the good gifts of which he was thebearer, to make up with him. 

"I wish you a merry Christmas, " said Frank, arrived at the old man'stent. 

"You are rather late for that, it seems to me, " replied Sinjin, liftinghis brows, as he sat in his tent and looked quietly over his shoulder atthe visitor. 

"I know it, " said Frank. "But the truth is, I hadn't any thing to wishyou a merry Christmas with yesterday. But this morning I got a box byexpress, full of goodies, direct from home. "

"Ah!" said the old man, with a singular unsteadiness of eye, while hetried to look cold and unconcerned. 

"Yes; isn't it grand? A turkey of my mother's own stuffing, and pies ofher own baking, and every thing that's splendid. And she said she hopedyou would accept a share, with her very kind regards. And so I've broughtyou some. "

The old man had got up on his feet. But he did not offer to relieveFrank's hands. He made no reply to his little speech; and he seemed notso much to look _at_ him, as _through_ him, into some visionary past faraway. Perhaps it was not the drummer boy he saw at all, but fairerfeatures, still like his--a sweet young girl; the same he used to trotupon his knees, in those unforgotten years, so long ago, when he was inhis manhood's prime, and life was still fresh to him, and he had notlost his early faith in friendship and love. 

There Frank stood, holding the cover of the Christmas box, with the goodthings from home upon it, and waited, and wondered; and there the old manstood and dreamed. 

"Please, sir, will you let me leave them here?" said Frank, ready to crywith disappointment at this strange reception. 

The old man heaved a sigh, brushed his hand across his eyes, and cameback to the present. He stooped and took the gift with a tremulous smile, but without a word. He did not tell the drummer boy that he had, in thatinstant of forgetfulness, seen his mother as she was at his age, and thathis old heart now, though seemingly withered and embittered, gushed againwith love so sorrowful and yearning, that he could have taken her son inhis arms, even as he had so often taken her, and have wept over him. AndFrank, in his ignorance, went away, feeling more hurt than ever at hisold friend's apparent indifference. 

 * * * *

And now matters were assuming a more and more warlike appearance. Forsome time Frank's regiment had been out on brigade drill twice a week, and he had written home a glowing description of the scene. But anincomparably grander sight was the inspection and review of the entiredivision, which took place the last week of December. The parade ground, comprising two thousand acres, at once smooth and undulating, wasadmirably fitted to show off, with picturesque and splendid effect, theevolutions of regiment, brigade, and division. Thousands of spectatorsflocked from Annapolis and the vicinity, in vehicles, on horseback, andon foot, to witness the display. 

Frank was with his company, carrying his knapsack, haversack, tin cup, and canteen, like the rest, and with his drum at his side. He could notbut feel a pride in the grand spectacle of which he formed a part. Ateleven o'clock, Brigadier-General Foster, commanding the department inBurnside's absence, passed down the line, accompanied by a numerousstaff, and followed by the governor of the state and members of thelegislature. They inspected each regiment in turn; and many were thelooks of interest and pleased surprise which the young drummer boyreceived from officers and civilians. 

The reviewing party then took its position on the right, the words ofcommand rang along the line, and regiment after regiment, breaking intobattalion column, filed, with steady tramp, in superb, glittering array, to the sound of music, past the general and his assistants. No wonder thedrummer boy's heart beat high with military enthusiasm, as he marchedwith his comrades in this magnificent style, marvelling what enemy couldwithstand such disciplined masses of troops. 

And now the fleet of transports, which were to convey them to theirdestination, were gathering at Annapolis. The camp was full of rumorsrespecting the blow which was to be struck, and the troops were eager tostrike it. 

So ended the old year, the first of the war; and the new year came in. Itwas now January, 1862. 

On the 3d, the regiment was for the first time paid off. Frank receivedpay for two months' service, at twelve dollars a month. He kept only fourdollars for his own use, and sent home the remaining twenty dollars in acheck, to be drawn by his father in Boston. It was a source of greatpride and satisfaction to him that he could send money to his parents;and he wondered at the greedy selfishness of John Winch, who immediatelycommenced spending his pay for pies and cakes, at the sutler's enormousprices. 

On the 6th, the regiment broke camp and marched to Annapolis. There wassnow on the ground, which had fallen the night before; and the weatherwas very cold. The city was a scene of busy activity. The fleet lay inthe harbor. Troops and baggage trains crowded to the wharves. Transportafter transport took on board its precious freight of lives, and haulingout into the stream to make room for others, dropped anchor off the town. 

After waiting five hours--five long and dreary hours--at the NavalAcademy, our regiment took its turn. One half went on board an armedsteamer, whose decks were soon swarming with soldiers and bristling withguns. The other half took passage in a schooner. And the steamer took theschooner in tow, and anchored with her in the river. And so Frank and hiscomrades bade farewell to the soil of Maryland. 

The excitement of these scenes had served to put Frank's conscience tosleep again. However, it received a sting, when, on the day of leavingAnnapolis, he learned that the secessionist whose turkeys had beenstolen, had, in revenge for his wrongs, quitted his farm, and gone tojoin the rebel army. 

 XIV. 

 THE VOYAGE AND THE STORM. 

On the morning of the 9th of January the fleet sailed. 

Frank was on board the schooner towed out by her steam consort. 

Although the morning was cold and wet, the decks of the transports werecrowded with troops witnessing the magnificent spectacle of their owndeparture. 

Just before they got under way, a jubilant cheering was heard. Frank madehis way to the vessel's side, to see what was going on. A small row-boatpassed, conveying some officer of distinction to his ship. Frank observedthat he was a person of quite unpretending appearance, but of pleasantand noble features. 

"Burnside! Burnside! Burnside!" shouted a hundred voices. 

And in acknowledgment of the compliment, the modest hero of theexpedition stood up in the boat, and uncovered his high, bald foreheadand dome-like head. 

The rowers pulled at their oars, and the boat dashed on over the dancingwaters, greeted with like enthusiasm every where, until the general'sflag-ship, the little steamer Picket, took him on board. 

And now the anchors were up, the smoke-pipes trailed their cloudystreamers on the breeze, flags and pennants were flying, paddle-wheelsbegan to turn and plash, the bands played gay music, and the fleet drewoff, in a long line of countless steamers and sailing vessels, down theSevern, and down the Chesapeake. 

All day, through a cold, drizzling rain, the fleet sailed on, thetransports still keeping in sight of each other, in a line extending formiles along the bleak, inhospitable bay. 

The next morning, Frank went on deck, and found the schooner at anchor ina fog. The steamer lay alongside. No other object was visible--only therestlessly-dashing waters. The wild shrieking of the steamer's whistle, blowing in the fog to warn other vessels of the fleet to avoid runningdown upon them, the near and far responses of similarly screamingwhistles, and of invisible tolling bells, added impressiveness to thesituation. 

At nine o'clock, anchors were weighed again, and the fleet proceededslowly, feeling its way, as it were, in the obscurity. There was more orless fog throughout the day; but towards sundown a breeze blew from theshore, the fog rolled back upon the sea, the clouds broke into wildflying masses, the blue sky shone through, and the sunset poured itsplacid glory upon the scene. 

Again the troops crowded the decks. The fleet was entering Hampton Roads. Upon the right, basking in the golden sunset as in the light of aneternal calm, a stupendous fortress lay, like some vast monster of oldtime, asleep. Frank shivered with strange sensations as he gazed uponthat immense and powerful stronghold of force; trying to realize that, dreaming so quietly there in the sunset, those gilded walls, which seemedthose of an ancient city of peace, meant horrible, deadly war. 

"By hooky!" said Seth Tucket, coming to his side, "that old FortressMonroe's a stunner--ain't she? I'd no idee the old woman spread her hoopskirts over so much ground. "

"You can see the big Union gun there on the beach, " said Atwater. "Tolook at that, then just turn your eye over to Sewell's Point there, wherethe rebel batteries are, makes it seem like war. " And the tall, gravesoldier smiled, with a light in his eye Frank had seldom seen before. 

The evening was fine, the sky clear, the moon shining, the air balmy andspring-like. The fleet had come to anchor in the Roads. The bands wereplaying, and the troops cheering from deck to deck. The moonlightglittered on the water, and whitened the dim ships riding at anchor, andlay mistily upon the bastions of the great slumbering fortress. At a latehour, Frank, with his eyes full of beauty and his ears full of music, went below, crept into his berth, and thought of home, and of the greatworld he was beginning to see, until he fell asleep. 

The next day the fleet still lay in Hampton Roads. There were belongingto the expedition over one hundred and twenty-five vessels of allclasses, freighted with troops, horses, forage, and all the paraphernaliaof war. And this was the last morning which was to behold thatmagnificent and powerful armada entire and unscattered. 

At night the fleet sailed. Once at sea, the sealed orders, by which eachvessel was to shape its course, were opened, and Hatteras Inlet was foundto be its first destination. 

The next day was Sunday, January 12. The morning was densely foggy. Frank, who had been seasick all night, went on deck to breathe the freshsea air. The steamer, still towing the Schooner, was just visible in thefog, at the other end of the great sagging hawser. And the sea wasrolling, rolling, rolling. And the ship was tossing, tossing, tossing. And Frank's poor stomach, not satisfied with its convulsive efforts toturn him wrong side out the night before, recommenced heaving, heaving, heaving. He clung to the rail of the schooner, and every time it wentdown, and every time it came up, he seemed to grow dizzier and sickerthan ever. He consoled himself by reflecting that he was only one ofhundreds on hoard, who were, or had been, in the same condition; and whenhe was sickest he could not help laughing at Seth Tucket's inexhaustibledrollery. 

"Well, try again, ef ye want to, " said that poetical private, addressinghis stomach. "Be mean, and stick to it. Keep heaving, and be darned!"

Stomach took him at his word, and for a few minutes he leaned heavily byFrank's side. 

"There!" he said to it, triumphantly, "ye couldn't do any thing, and Itold ye so. Now I hope ye'll keep quiet a minute. Ye won't? Going at itagain? Very well; do as you please; it's none o' my business--bygosh!"--lifting up his head with a bitter grin; "that inside of me islike Milton's chaos, in Paradise Lost. 'Up from the bottom turned byraging wind and furious assault!'--Here it goes again!"

Frank had been scarcely less amused by the misery of Jack Winch, whodeclared repeatedly that he should die, that he wished he was dead, andso forth, with groanings unutterable. 

But Frank kept up his courage, and after eating a piece of hard bread forbreakfast, began to feel better. 

Towards noon the fog blew off, and the beach was visible on theright, --long, low, desolate, a shore of interminable sand, over which thebreakers leaped and ran like hordes of wild horses with streaming tailsand manes. Not a sign of vegetation was to be seen on that barren coast, nor any trace of human existence, save here a lonely house on the ridge, and yonder a dismantled wreck careened high upon the beach, or the ribsof some half-buried hulk protruding from the sand. 

On the other side was an unbroken horizon of water. Numerous vessels ofthe fleet were still in sight And now a little steamer came dashing gaylyalong, hailed with cheers. It was the Picket, General Burnside'sflag-ship. 

In the afternoon, more fog. But at sunset it was clear. The wind waslight, blowing from the south. But now the ocean rolled in long, enormousswells, showing that the vessels were approaching Cape Hatteras; for, whatever may be the aspect of the sea elsewhere, here its billows arenever at rest. 

So the sun went down, and the night came on, with its cold moon andstars, and Hatteras lighthouse shot its arrowy ray far out across thedark water. 

The breeze freshened and increased to a gale; and the violence of thewaves increased with it, until the schooner creaked and groaned in everypart, and it seemed as if she must break in pieces. Sometimes the billowsburst upon the deck with a thunder-crash, and, sweeping over it, pouredin cataracts from her sides. Now a heavy cross-sea struck her beams withthe jarring force of an avalanche of rocks, flinging more than oneunlucky fellow clear from his berth. And now her bows went under, sunk bya weight of rolling water, from which it seemed for an instant impossiblethat she could ever emerge. But rise she did, each time, slowly, laboring, quivering, and groaning, like a living thing in mortal agony. Once, as she plunged, the great cable that united her fortunes with thoseof the steamer, unable to bear the tremendous strain, snapped like a wetstring; and immediately she fell off helplessly before the gale. 

The troops had a terrible night of it. Many were deathly sick. Two orthree broke their watches, besides getting badly bruised, by pitchingfrom their bunks. Frank would not have dared to go to sleep, even if hecould. Once, when the ship gave a lurch, and stopped suddenly, strikingthe shoulder of a wave, he heard somebody tumble. 

"Who's that?" he asked. 

And the nasal sing-song of the poetical Tucket answered, "'Awaking with astart, the waters heave around me, and on high the winds lift up theirvoices; I depart, whither I know not; but the hour's gone by whenBoston's lessening shores can grieve or glad mine eye. '"

And Tucket crept back into his bunk. 

"We're all going to the bottom, I'm sure, " whined John Winch, from thetop berth, over Frank. "I believe we're sinking now. "

"Well, " said Frank, "the water will reach me first, and you'll be one ofthe last to go under; you've that for a satisfaction. "

"I believe that's what he chose the top berth for, " said Harris. 

"How can you be joking, such a time as this?" said John. "Here's Atwater, fast asleep! Are you, Atwater?"

"No, " said the soldier, who lay sick, with his thoughts far away. 

"Ellis is; ain't you, Ellis?" And Jack reached to shake his comrade. "Howcan you be asleep, Ned, when we're all going to the bottom?"

"Let me alone!" growled Ned. 

"We are going to the bottom, " said Jack, --the ship just then rolling inthe trough of the sea. 

"I can't help it if we are, " replied Ellis, sick and stupefied; "and Idon't care much. Let me go to the bottom in peace. "

"O Lord! O Lord! O Lord!" moaned Jack, in despair, feeling more likepraying than ever before in his life. 

Tucket had a line of poetry to suit his case:--

"'And then some prayed--the first time in some years;'" he said, quotingByron. And he proceeded with a description of a shipwreck, which was notvery edifying to the unhappy Winch: "'Then rose from sea to sky the wildfarewell, '" etc. 

"I never would have enlisted if I was such a coward as Jack, " saidHarris, contemptuously. 

"I ain't a coward, " retorted Jack. "I enlisted to fight, not to go to seaand be drowned. "

"Drownded--ded--ded--dead!" said Tucket. 

"O, yes, " said Harris, "you are mighty fierce for getting ashore andfighting. But when you were on land you were just as glad to get to sea. Now I hope you'll get enough of it. I wouldn't mind a shipwreck myself, just to hear you scream. "

Then Tucket: "'At first one universal shriek there rushed, louder thanthe loud ocean, --like a crash of echoing thunder; and then all washushed, save the wild wind, and the remorseless dash of billows; but atintervals there gushed, accompanied with a convulsive splash, a solitaryshriek--the babbling cry of private Winch, in his last agony!'"

After this, conversation ceased for a time, and there was no noise but ofthe storm, and the groanings of the ship and of the sick. 

Frank could not sleep, but, clinging to his berth, and listening to theshock of billows, thought of the other vessels of that brave fleet, scattered and tossed, and wondered at the awful power of the sea. 

Then he remembered the story Corporal Gray had that day told them of thegreat Spanish Armada, which sailed in the days of Queen Elizabeth toinvade England, and was blown to its destruction by the storms of theAlmighty; and he questioned within himself whether this proud expeditionwas destined for a similar fate. Already he seemed to hear thelamentations of those at home, and the frantic rejoicings of the rebels. 

The next morning the wind lulled; but the sea still ran high. The sunrose upon a scene of awful grandeur. The schooner was sailing under thefew rags of canvas which had withstood the gale. The steamer was nowherein sight; but other vessels of the shattered fleet could be seen, somenear, and some half below the horizon, far out at sea. The waves, white-capped, green-streaked, ceaselessly shifting, with dark bluehollows and high-curved crests all bursting into foam, came chasing eachother, and passed on like sliding liquid hills, spurning the schoonerfrom their slippery backs. 

"'Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean! roll! ten thousand fleets sweepover thee in vain!'" observed Tucket, coming on deck with Frank, andgazing around at the few tossed remnants of the storm-scatteredexpedition. 

Wild and terribly beautiful the scene was; and Frank, who had oftenwished to behold the ocean in its fury, was now sufficiently recoveredfrom his sickness to enjoy the opportunity. Nor was the wondering delightwith which he saw the sun rise out of the deep, and shine across thetumbling yeasty waves, at all diminished by the drolleries of his friendSeth, who kept at his side, saying the queerest things, and ever and anonshouting poetry to the running seas. 

"'Though the strained mast should quiver as a reed, and the rent canvasfluttering strew the gale, still must I on; for I am as a weed flung fromthe rocks on Ocean's foam to sail, where'er secession breeds, ortreason's works prevail, '"--added Seth, altering the verse to suit theoccasion. 

The fleet had indeed been rudely handled in that rough night off thecape. But now sail after sail hove in sight, all making their way as bestthey could towards the inlet. This some reached, and got safely in beforenight. Others, attempting to enter, got aground, and were with difficultygot off again. Some anchored outside, and some lay off and on, waitingfor morning, to be piloted past the shoals, and through the narrowchannel, to a safe anchorage inside. 

 XV. 

 HATTERAS INLET. 

But what a morning dawned! Another storm, more terrible than the first, had been raging all night, and its violence was still increasing. And nowit came on to rain; and rain and wind and sea appeared to vie with eachother in wreaking their fury on the ill-starred expedition. 

Tuesday night the storm abated, and Wednesday brought fair weather. Thefleet in the mean time had suffered perils and hardships which can neverbe told. Many of the transports were still missing. Many were at anchoroutside the inlet, waiting for pilots to bring them in. Some had beenlost. The "City of New York, " a large steam propeller, freighted withstores and munitions of war, had struck on the bar, and foundered in thebreakers. The crew, after clinging for twenty-four hours in the riggingto avoid being washed off by the sea, which made a clean breach over her, had been saved, but vessel and cargo were a total loss. Frank had watchedthe wreck, which seemed at one moment to emerge from the waves, and thenext was half hidden by the incoming billows, and enveloped in a whiteshroud of foam. 

The schooner had escaped the dangers of the sea, and was safe at lastinside the inlet; as safe, at least, as any of the fleet, in soprecarious an anchorage. 

There was still another formidable bar to pass before the open waters ofPamlico Sound could be entered. The transports that had got in were lyingin a basin, full of shoals, with but little room to swing with the tide, and they were continually running into each other, or getting aground. Nor was it encouraging to see bales of hay from one of the wrecks lodgeat low water upon the very sand-bar which the fleet had still to cross. 

Frank and his comrades took advantage of the fair weather to makeobservation of the two forts, Hatteras and Clark, which command thesituation. These were constructed by the rebels, but had been capturedfrom them by General Butler and Commodore Stringham, in August, 1861, andwere now garrisoned by national troops. They stand on the south-westernlimb of one of the low, barren islands which separate this part ofPamlico Sound from the Atlantic. Between two narrow sand-spits the tidesrush in and out with great force and rapidity; and this is the inlet--amere passage cut through into the sound by the action of the sea. 

As the schooner was being towed farther in, some men in a boat, who hadbeen ashore at Fort Hatteras, and were returning to their ship, camealongside. The party consisted of some officers belonging to a New Jerseyregiment, together with a boat's crew of six men. 

"Throw us a line, " they said; "and tow us along. "

A line was flung to them from the schooner; but they had some difficultyin getting it, for the waves were running high in the channel. Pendingthe effort, the tiller slipped from the hands of the officer who wassteering; a heavy sea struck the boat on the quarter, and she capsized. Boats were lowered from the schooner, and sent to the rescue. It was ascene of intense and anxious interest to Frank, who was on deck and sawit all. The men in the water righted the boat several times, but shefilled and capsized as often. One officer was seen to get his feetentangled, sink with his head downward, and drown in that position beforehe could be extricated. He was the colonel of the regiment. The surgeonof the regiment also perished. All the rest were saved. 

The drowned bodies were brought upon deck, and every effort was made tobring back life into them; but in vain. And there they lay; so full ofhope, and courage, and throbbing human life an hour ago--now two pale, livid corpses. The incident made a strong impression on Frank, not yetaccustomed to the aspect of death, which was destined to become sofamiliar to his eyes a few days later. 

Still the dangers and delays that threatened to prove fatal to theexpedition were far from ended. It seemed that the rebels were theenemies it had least to fear. Avarice, incapacity, and treachery at homehad conspired with the elements against it. Many of the larger vesselsdrew too much water for the passage into the sound, and were wholly unfitfor the voyage. 

"The contractors, " said Burnside, "have ruined me; but God holds me inhis palm, and all will yet be well. "

With nothing to distinguish him but his yellow belt, in blue shirt, slouched hat, and high boots, he stood like a sea-god (says aneye-witness) in the bows of his light boat, speaking every vessel, andinquiring affectionately about the welfare of the men. 

Storm succeeded storm, while the fleet was yet at the inlet; many dayselapsing before the principal vessels could be got over the "bulkhead, "as the bar is called, which still intervened between them and the sound. To add to the sufferings of the troops, the supply of fresh water gaveout. Much of that with which the transports had been provided bydishonest or imbecile contractors, had been put up in old oil casks, which imparted to it a taste and odor far from agreeable. But even ofsuch wretched stuff as this, there was at length none to be had. 

"We had ham for dinner yesterday, " wrote Frank; "but as we had nothing todrink after it, we thought we should die of thirst. I never suffered soin my life; and O, what would I have given for a good drink out of ourwell at home! We were as glad as so many ducks, this morning, to see itrain. O, it did pour beautifully! I never knew what a blessing rain wasbefore. I went on deck, and got wet through, catching water where itdripped from the rigging. But I didn't care for the soaking--I had filledmy canteen; and I tell you, that nasty rain-water was a luxury. "

The noble-hearted general was grieved to the soul by the sufferings ofhis men. Neither day nor night did he seem to desist for a moment fromhis efforts to atone, by his own vigilance and activity, for the culpableinefficiency and negligence of others. He hastened to Fort Clark, wherethere was a condenser for converting salt water into fresh, and attendedpersonally to putting it into operation. By this means a miserably meagersupply was obtained, --enough, however, together with the rain that wascaught, to keep the demon of thirst at bay until the water vessels couldarrive. 

Ten days elapsed after the schooner entered the inlet before she was gotover the bulkhead into the open sound. And still ten days more weredestined to slip by before any general movement against the enemy wasattempted by the fleet. In the mean while the troops confined onshipboard resorted to a thousand devices for passing away the time. Therewas dancing, there was card-playing, there was singing; and many newgames were invented for the occasion. Frank learned the manual of arms. 

Something else he learned, not so much to his credit. Before saying whatthat was, I wish to remind the reader of the peculiar circumstances inwhich he was placed--the tedious hours; the hardships, which he was gladto forget at any cost; the example of companions, all older, and many somuch older than himself; and, not least by any means, his own ardent andsusceptible nature. 

One day he joined his comrades in a game of bluff. Now, bluff is a gamethere is no fun in unless some stake is played for. The boys had beenashore, and gathered some pebbles and shells from the beach, and thesewere used for the purpose. Frank had great success. He won more shellsthan any body. In the excitement, he forgot his thirst, and all theaccompanying troubles. He forgot, too, that this was a kind of gambling. And he was so elated, that when somebody proposed to play for pennies, hedid not think that it would be much worse to do that than to play forshells and pebbles. 

Unfortunately, he was still successful. He won twenty cents in about anhour. He did not intend to keep them, for he did not think that would beright. "I'll play, " said he, "and let the boys win them back again. " But, at the next sitting, he won still more pennies; so that he thought hecould well afford to play a bolder game. His success was all the moregratifying when he considered that he was the youngest of the party, andthat by skill and good fortune he was beating his elders. 

One day, after he had won more than a dollar, --which seems a good deal ofmoney to a boy in his condition, --he began to lose. This was not soamusing. He had made up his mind that when his winnings were gone, hewould stop playing; and the idea of stopping was not pleasant tocontemplate. How could he give up a sport which surpassed everything elsein the way of excitement? However, he determined to keep his resolution. And it was soon brought to a test. 

The luck had turned, and Frank found himself where he began. If he playedany more, he must risk his own money. He didn't mind losing a fewpennies, --that was nothing serious; but the boys were not playing forsimple pennies now. 

"I believe I've played enough, boys, " said he, passing his hand acrosshis heated brow, and casting his eyes around at objects which lookedstrange to them after their long and intense application to the cards. 

"O, of course!" sneered Jack Winch, who was watching the game, "Frank'llstop as soon as he is beginning to lose a little. "

Jack was not playing, for a very good reason. He had spent nearly all hismoney, and lost the rest. He had lost some of it to Frank, and wasconsequently very desirous of seeing the latter brought to the samecondition as himself. 

The sneering remark stung Frank. He would gladly have pleaded Jack'sexcuse for not playing any more; but he had still in his pocket over twodollars of the money he had reserved for himself when the troops werepaid off. And it did seem rather mean in him, now he thought of it, tothrow up the game the moment others were serving him as he had been onlytoo willing to serve them. 

"I'm not afraid of losing my money, " said he, blushing; "but I've hadenough play for one day. "

"You didn't get sick of it so easy when the luck was on your side, " saidHarris, who had lost money to Frank, and now wanted his revenge. 

"For instance, yesterday, when the Parrott was talking to the boy, " saidSeth. 

The Parrott he spoke of was one of the twelve-pound Parrott guns theschooner carried; and the boy was the _buoy_, or target, in the water, at which the gunners had practised firing round shot. Frank rememberedhow all wanted to put aside the cards and watch the sport excepthimself. At another time he would have taken great interest in it, andhave been on hand to cheer as enthusiastically as any body when thewell-aimed shots struck the water; but his mind was completely absorbedin winning money. There was no such noble diversion on deck to-day; andit was only too easy to set? his real reason for getting so soon tiredof bluff. 

"That's right, Frank; stop! Now's a good time, " said Atwater, who watchedthe game a good deal, but never took a hand in it. 

"Well, I shan't urge him, ef he's in 'arnest, " said Seth; "though he haskep' me at it a darned sight longer 'n I wanted to, sometimes, when 'twasmy tin 'stid of his'n that was goin' by the board. Stop where ye be, mybold drummer boy; keep yer money, ef ye've got any left; that is the bestway, after all. 'I know the right, and I approve it, too; I know thewrong, and yet the wrong pursue, '" added Tucket, dealing the cards. 

No doubt he meant to give Frank good advice. But to the sensitive andproud spirit of the boy, it sounded like withering sarcasm. He couldn'tstand that. 

"I'll play fifteen minutes longer, " said he, looking at his watch, "ifthat'll please you. "

"A quarter of an hour!" said Harris, contemptuously. "We'd better allstop now, and come at it fresh again, by and by. "

The proposition was acceded to; for what could Frank say against it? Hehad not the courage to say, "Boys, I feel that I have been doing wrong, and I mean to stop at once;" but he thought it more manly to play oncemore, if only to show that he was not afraid of losing. "And perhaps, " hethought, remembering his former luck, "I shall win. "

 XVI. 

 HOW FRANK LOST HIS WATCH. 

Play again he did accordingly; and, sure enough, he won. He broughtTucket to his last dime. The poetical and philosophic spirit in whichthat good-humored young man contemplated his losses, was worthy of abetter cause. 

"'Fare thee well, and, if forever, still forever fare thee well, '" heremarked, staking the said dime. And when it was lost, --for Frank "rakedthe pile, "--he added, pathetically, going from Byron to Burns, "'Farethee weel, thou brightest, fairest; fare thee weel, thou last anddearest! Had we never loved sae kindly, had we never loved sae blindly, never met, or never parted, I had ne'er been broken-hearted. ' Boys, I'mdead broke, and must quit off, without some of you that are flush willlend me a quarter. "

"Ask Frank, " said Ellis; "he's the flushest. "

So Frank lent Seth a quarter, and with that quarter Seth won back all hismoney, and, in the course of two more sittings, cleaned Frank out, as thephrase is. 

Then, one would say, Frank had a valid excuse to retire, if not before. He had risked his money, and lost it. Certainly nothing more could beexpected of him. Seth grinned, and Jack Winch rubbed his hands withdelight. 

But now _Frank_ was not content. His heart was gnawed by chagrin. Hehad not really wished to stop playing at all; for the sense of vacancyand craving which always, in such natures, succeeds the cessation ofunhealthy excitement, is misery enough in itself. But to have left offwith as much money in his pocket as he began with, would have beenfelicity, compared with the bitter consciousness of folly, the stingingvexation and regret, which came with his misfortunes. 

"I'll lend ye, if ye like, " said the good-natured Seth--perhaps in returnfor the similar favor he had received; or rather because he pitied theboy, and meant to let him win back his money; for, with all his mischiefand drollery, this Tucket was one of the most generous and kind-heartedof Frank's friends. 

The offer was gladly accepted; and Frank, praying Fortune to favor him, made a promise in his heart, that, if she would aid him to recover hislosses, he would then bid farewell forever to the enticing game. 

But the capricious goddess does not answer prayers. On the contrary, shedelights to side with those who need her least, spurning away thesupplicants at her feet. 

Frank borrowed a quarter, and lost it immediately. He borrowed again, determined to play more carefully. He waited until he had an excellenthand, then staked his money. 

Tucket and Ellis did not play; and the game was between Frank and Harris. Both were confident, and they kept doubling their stakes, Frank borrowingagain and again of Seth for the purpose. He held four kings, thestrongest hand but one in the game. He knew Harris's style of playing toowell to be much daunted by his audacity, not believing that he held thatone stronger hand than his. 

"I'll lend ye as long as ye call for more, " said Seth; "only, seeingyou've borrowed already more'n I've won of ye, s'posin' ye give me somesecurity?"

"I've nothing to give, " said Frank. 

"There's your watch, " suggested Winch, who had had a glimpse of Joe'scards. And at the same time he winked significantly, giving Frank tounderstand that his antagonist had not a hand of very great strength. 

Thus encouraged, sure of victory, and too much beside himself to considerthe sacred nature of the object he was placing in pawn, Frank handed overhis watch to Seth, and received from him loan after loan, until he waseight dollars in his debt. Seth did not like to advance any more thanthat on the watch. So the critical moment arrived. Frank, with flushedface and trembling hands, placed his all upon the board. Then Harris, showing his cards, with a smile, swept the pile towards his cap. 

"Let me see!" cried Frank, incredulous, staying his arm until he could besure of the cards. 

His flushed face turned white; his hand fell upon the bench as ifsuddenly palsied. 

"Two pairs of aces! that's what I call luck, Joe, " said Winch, scarceable to restrain his joyous chuckling. 

Frank looked up at him with wild distress and kindling fury in his face. 

"It was you, Jack Winch! You made me----"

"Made you what?" said John, insolently. 

What, indeed? He had by looks, which spoke as plainly as words, assuredFrank that Harris held but an indifferent hand; whereas he held the bestthe pack afforded. By that falsehood, --for, with looks and actions atyour command, it is not necessary to open your mouth in order to tell themost downright, absolute lie, --he had induced Frank to play on boldly tohis own ruin. 

But was he alone to blame? Even if he had told the truth about Joe'shand, ought Frank to have been influenced by it? He had no right to thatknowledge, and to take advantage of it was dishonest. 

No doubt Frank himself thought so, now he reflected upon it. To accuseJack was to confess his own disingenuousness. He was by nature as fairand open as the day; he despised a base deception; and it was only as aninevitable consequence of such wrong doings as lead directly tofaithlessness and duplicity, that he could ever become guilty of theseimmoralities. 

Such is the vice of gambling--a process by which men hope to obtain theirneighbors' goods without yielding an equivalent for them; and which, therefore, inflames covetousness, and accustoms the mind to thecontemplation of unjust gains, until it is ready to resort to any unjustmeans of securing them. Do you say there are honest gamblers? The term isa contradiction. You might, with equal consistency, talk of truthfulliars. To get your money, or any thing else, without rendering anequitable return, is the core of all dishonesty, whether in the gamester, the pickpocket, the man who cheats in trade, or the boy who robsorchards. And a conscience once debauched by dishonest aims, will not, asI said, long scruple at unfair means. 

Singularly enough, Frank was more abashed by the betrayal of the unfairmeans he had attempted to use, than he had yet been by any consciousnessof the immorality of the practice which led to them. He could not say toWinch, "You told me I was sure of winning, and so deceived me. " He onlylooked at him a moment, with wild distress and exasperation on his face, which quickly changed to an expression of morose and bitter despair; anddropping his head, and putting up his hands, he burst into irrepressiblesobs. 

"My watch! my watch that was given to me--" and which he had soignominiously gambled away. No wonder he wept. No wonder he shook fromhead to foot with the passion of grief, as the conviction of his ownfolly and infatuation burned like intolerable fire in his soul. 

"Dry up, baby!" said Jack, through his teeth. "There comes the captain. "

Baby? Poor Frank! It was because he was not altogether given over torecklessness and vice that he cried at the thought of his lost watch, andof his gross ingratitude to the unknown giver. Still he felt that it wasweak in him to cry. He who risks his property in order to get possessionof another's should be philosopher enough to take with equanimity theloss of his own. 

"Don't be childish, Frank; don't be silly!" said his friends. 

And, indeed, he had the strongest reason for suppressing his sobs. Captain Edney was approaching. He was the last person to whom he wouldhave wished to betray his guilt and misfortune. He loved and respectedhim; and we fear most the disapprobation of those we love and respect. Moreover, through him the heart-breaking intelligence of her son's evilcourses might reach Mrs. Manly. But no doubt Frank's chief motive forconcealing the cause of his grief from Captain Edney was the suspicion hestill entertained, notwithstanding that officer's professed ignorance ofthe entire matter, that he was in reality the secret donor of the watch. So he choked back his sobs, and pretended to be assorting some pebbles, which the boys used as counters, especially when certain officers werepassing, who would have reproved them if they had seen money on theboard. And Captain Edney, whether he suspected any thing wrong, or not, walked on; and that restraint upon Frank's feelings was removed. 

But having once controlled the outburst, he did not suffer them to getthe better of him again. With a look of silent and sullen despair, he gotup, and went to his bunk, and threw himself upon it, and, turning hisface to the wall, refused to be comforted. 

It was the wooden wall of the ship's timbers--the same he had looked atin sickness, in storms at sea, by day, and at night by the dim light ofthe swinging ship's lanterns; and when he lay calmly at rest, in the palmof God, amid the convulsions and dangers of the deep, and when, in thetediousness of long, dull days of waiting, he had lain there, and solacedhimself with sweet thoughts of home. 

But never had the ribbed ship's side appeared to him as now. And yet itwas the same; but he was not the same. He was no longer the bright, hopeful, happy boy as before, but miserable, guilty, broken-hearted. Andas we are, so is the world to us; the most familiar objects changingtheir aspect with every change in the soul. Does the sunshine, which wasbright yesterday, look cold to-day? and is the sweet singing of birdssuddenly become as a mockery to the ear? and the faces of friends, lateso pleasant to see, have they grown strange and reproachful? and is life, before so full of hope, turned sour, and vapid, and bitter? O, my friend, I pity you; but the change, which you probably think is in the world, isonly in yourself. 

"The parson seems to have fallen from grace, " said John Winch, sarcastically. 

"Hold your tongue!" said Atwater, sternly. "You are all more to blamethan he is. Of course, a boy of his age will do what he sees older onesdo. It's a shame to get his money and watch away from him so. "

And the honest fellow went and sat by Frank, and tried to console him. 

"Go away! go away!" said Frank, in his anguish. "Don't trouble yourselfabout such a miserable fool as I am. I deserve it all. Let me be!"

Atwater, who was sadly deficient in what is called the gift of gab, hadno soothing words at his command, full as his heart was of compassion. And after sitting some time by the unhappy boy, patting him softly on theshoulder, he arose, and went away; concluding that his absence would be arelief to one so utterly miserable. 

Then Seth Tucket came, and took his place. 

"That's always the way with bad luck, I swan, " he said, sympathizingly. "Misfortunes always come in heaps. It never rains but it pours. "

"I wish you'd let me alone!" said the boy, peevishly. 

"That's fair, I swan!" said Seth. "But le' me tell ye. Ef I hed won thewatch, I'd give it back to ye in a minute. But Harris is the winner, andI've only the watch now to show for my money. But here's a half dollar tobegin again with. You know what luck is at cards, --how it shifts, nowthis way, now that, like a cow's tail in fly-time, --and I hain't theleast doubt but with that half dollar you'll win back all your money, andyour watch too. "

The offer was kindly meant; and it encouraged a little spark of comfortin Frank's heart. To win back his losses--that was his only hope. He tookthe money, silently pressing Seth's hand. After that he struggled toforget his grief in thoughts of his former good fortune, which hebelieved would now return to him. 

 XVII. 

 IN WHICH FRANK SEES STRANGE THINGS. 

In this frame of mind, Frank went on deck. He saw the old drum-majorcoming towards him. Being in any thing but a social mood, he tried toavoid him; and turning his back, walked away. But the veteran followed, and came to his side. 

"Well, my young man, " said the old cynic, exhibiting a little agitation, and speaking in a hurried tone, unusual with him, "I hear brave tidingsof you. "

His voice sounded harsh and sarcastic to the irritated boy; and, indeed, there was resentment enough in the veteran's breast, as well as a bittersense of injury and disappointment, as he spoke. 

Frank, nursing his sore heart, the wounds of which he could not bear tohave touched by the most friendly hand, compressed his lips together, andmade no reply. 

"So you have been really gambling--have you?" added the old man, in tonesof suppressed emotion. 

"That's my business, " said Frank, curtly. 

He regretted the undutiful words the instant they escaped his lips. Buthe was too proud to ask pardon for them. As for the old man, he stoodsilent for a long time, looking down at the boy, who looked not up againat him. And there was a tremor in his lip, and a dilatation in his eye, which at length grew misty with a tear that gathered, but did not fall. And with a sigh, he turned away. 

"Well, be it so!" Frank heard him say, as if to himself. "I thought--Ihoped--but no matter. "

He thought--he hoped--what? That his early faith in love and friendship, which had so long been dead, might be raised to life again by this boy, for whom he had conceived so singular a liking, and who, like all therest, proved ungrateful and unworthy when the hour of trial came. 

Alas! such is the result of our transgressions. Once having offended ourown souls, we are quick to offend others. And vice makes us irritable, ungenerous, unjust. And not a crime can be committed, but its evilconsequences follow, not the author of it only, but also the innocent, upon whom its blighting shadow falls. 

"Frank, if you want some fun!" said an eager whisper, with a promise ofmischief in it; a hand at the same time twitching the boy's coat. 

It was Ned Ellis, who had come for him, and was hastening away again. Frank followed--all too ready for any enterprise that would bring thebalm of forgetfulness to his hurt mind. 

The boys entered the hold of the vessel, where, in the hush andobscurity, a group of their companions; stood or sat, among the barrelsand boxes, still as statues, until they recognized the new comers. 

"All right! nobody but us, " whispered Ned, clambering over the freight, accompanied by Frank. 

"Come along, and make no noise, if you value your hides, " said Harris. "Here, Frank, is something to console ye for your bad luck. " And he heldout something in a tin cup. 

"What is it?" said Frank; "water?"

"Something almost as good, " said Harris. "It was water the boys came downhere in search of; and they've tapped five barrels of sirup in theoperation, and finally they've stuck the gimlet into a cask of--tasteon't. "

Frank knew what it was by the smell. It was not the first time he hadsmelt whiskey; or tasted it, either. But hitherto he had stopped at thetaste, having nothing but his curiosity to gratify. Now, however, he badsomething else to gratify--a burning thirst of the body, aggravated byhis feverish excitement, and a burning thirst of the soul, which demandedstimulus of any kind whatsoever that would allay the inward torment. 

And so he drank. He did not love the liquor, although the rank taste ofit was ameliorated by a liberal admixture of sirup. But he felt theinternal sinking and wretchedness of heart and stomach braced up andassuaged by the first draught; so he took another. And for the samereason he indulged in a third. And so it happened that his head beganshortly to swim, his eyes to see double, and things to look queer to themgenerally. The dim hold of the vessel might have been the pit ofdarkness, and the obscure grinning faces of his comrades might have beenthose of imps therein abiding, for aught he knew to the contrary, orcared. He began to laugh. 

"What's the matter, Frank?"

"Nothing, " he said, thickly; "only it's so droll. " And he sat down on acask, laughing again with uncontrollable merriment--at nothing; aninfallible symptom that a person is either tipsy or a fool. But Frank wasnot a fool. _Ergo:_ he was tipsy. 

"Get him up as quick as we can, boys, " he heard some one saying, "or elsewe can't get him up at all. "

"Better leave him here till he gets over it, " said another. "That'll bethe best way. "

"Who'd have thought a little dodger like that would upset him?" saidsomebody else. "By George we'll all get found out, through him. "

"Whads mare?" said Frank, meaning to ask, "What is the matter?" butsomehow he could not make his organs of articulation go off right. "'Ziswachecall drung?" (Is this what you call drunk?)

"Can ye walk?"--He recognized the voice of his friend Tucket. --"It's toobad to leave him here, boys. We must get him to his berth 'fore he's anyworse. "

"Zhue, Sef?" (Is it you, Seth?) Frank, with the help of his friend, gotupon his feet. "No, I don' breeve I'm drung; I be bernaliddlewile;"meaning to say he did not believe he was intoxicated, and to express hisconviction that he would be better in a little while. 

Seth repeated his first inquiry. 

"Izzindee! I kung wong!" (Yes, indeed, I can walk. ) And Frank, as if todemonstrate the absurdity of the pretence, went stumbling loosely overthe freight, saved from falling only by the assistance of his friend. 

"Here's the ladder, " said Tucket; "now be careful. "

"'M I goung upthlarer, or am I goung downth larer?" (Was he going up theladder or was he going down the ladder?)

Tucket proceeded to show him that the ladder was to be ascended; and, directing him how to hold on, and how to place his feet, boosted himgently, while a comrade above drew him also gently, until he was gotsafely out. 

"I did that perrywell!" said Frank. "Now lemme hell Sef!" (Now let mehelp Seth. ) "You're a bully fellel, Sef. I'll hellup ye!"

"Thank ye, boy, " said Tucket; indulging him in the ludicrous notion that_he_ was helping _his friends_. "Much obliged. "

"Nod tall!" (Not at all, ) said Frank. "Bully fellels like youmemushellpitchuthth. " (Must help each other. ) "You unstan me, Sef?"

"Yes, I understand you. But keep quiet now, and come along with me. "

So saying, the athletic soldier threw his arm affectionately aroundFrank, hurried him away to his bunk, and tumbled him into it without muchceremony. 

Not unobserved, however. Captain Edney, who had had an anxious eye onFrank of late, saw him retire to his quarters in this rather suspiciousmanner. 

"What's the matter with him?" he inquired of Seth. 

"Nothing very serious, I believe, sir, " replied Tucket, with the mostperfect seriousness. "A little seasick, or sunthin of the kind. He'll gitover it in a jiffy. "

The waves were not running sufficiently high in the sound, however, torender the theory of seasickness very plausible; and, to satisfy hismind, Captain Edney approached Frank's bunk, putting to him the samequestion. 

Frank replied in scarcely intelligible language, with a swimming gaze, tending to the cross-eyed, at the captain, "that there was nothing inpartiggler the mare with him, but he was very busy. 

"Busy?" said Captain Edney, severely; "what do you mean?"

"Not busy; but _busy, busy_!" repeated Frank. 

"You mean dizzy?"

"Yes, thad's it! bizzy. " He had somehow got _boozy_ and _dizzy_ mixedup. 

"What makes you dizzy?"

"Boys gimme some drink, I donowat. "

"The boys gave you some drink? You don't know what?--Tucket, " saidCaptain Edney, "what's all this? Who has been getting that boy drunk?"

Seth perceived that any attempt to disguise the truth would be futile, except so far as it might be possible by ingenious subtleties to shieldhis companions. The alarm, be believed, must have reached them by thistime, and have scattered the group at the whiskey barrel; so he answeredboldly, --

"The fact, sir, is jest this. We've been about half crazy for water, asyou know, for the past week or two; and men'll do almost any thing forrelief, under such circumstances. It got rumored around, somehow, thatthere was plenty of water in the vessel, and the boys went to huntingfor't, and stumbled on the quartermaster's stores, and tapped a fewcasks, I believe, mostly sirup, but one turned out to be whiskey. Dry aswe be, it's no more'n nat'ral 't we should drink a drop, under thecircumstances. "

"Who tapped the casks?"

"That's more'n I know. I didn't see it done, " said Seth. 

"Who drank?"

"I drinked a little, for one; jest enough to know 't wan't water. 

"And how many of you are drunk?" demanded Captain Edney. 

"I a'n't, for one. But I believe Manly is a little how-come ye-so. I'llsay this for him, though: he had nothing to do with tapping the casks, and he didn't seem to know what it was the boys gin him. He was dry; ittasted sweet, and he drinked, nat'rally. "

"Who gave him the whiskey?"

"I didn't notice, particularly, " said Seth. 

His accomplices were summoned, the quartermaster was notified, and theaffair was still further investigated. All confessed to having tasted theliquor, but nobody knew who tapped the casks, or who had given thewhiskey to Frank, and all had the same plausible excuse for theiroffence--intolerable thirst. It was impossible, where all were leaguedtogether, and all seemed equally culpable, to single out the ringleadersfor punishment, and it was not desirable to punish all. After a while, therefore, the men were dismissed with a reprimand, and the subjectpostponed indefinitely. That very afternoon forty barrels of water cameon board, and the men had no longer a pretext for tapping casks in thehold; and a few days later was the battle, in which they wiped out bytheir bravery all memory of past transgressions. 

And Frank? The muss, as the boys called it, was over before his sensesrecovered from their infinite bewilderment. He lay stupefied in his bunk, which went whirling round and round with him, sinking down and down anddown, into void and bottomless chaos, where solid earth was none--type ofthe drunkard's moral state, where virtue has lost its foot-hold, andthere is no firm ground of self-respect, and conscience is a loosenedledge toppling treacherously, and there is no steady hope to stay hishorrible whirling and sinking. Stupefaction became sleep; with sleepinebriation passed; and Frank awoke to misery. 

It was evening. The boys were playing cards again by the light of theship's lantern. The noise and the glimmer reached Frank in his berth, andcalled him back to time and space and memory. He remembered his watch, his insolent reply to his old friend Sinjin, the scene in the hold of thevessel, the sweet-tasting stuff, and the dizziness, a strange laddersomewhere which he had either climbed or dreamed of climbing; and hethought of his mother and sisters with a pang like the sting of ascorpion. He could bear any thing but that. 

He got up, determined not to let vain regrets torment him. He shut outfrom his mind those pure images of home, the presence of which wasmaddening to him. Having stepped so deep into guilt, he would not, hecould not, turn back. For Frank carried even into his vices thatsteadiness of resolution which distinguishes such natures from those ofthe Jack Winch stamp, wavering and fickle alike in good and ill. Hepossessed that perseverance and purpose which go to form either the bestand noblest men, or, turned to evil, the most hardy and efficientvillains. Frank was no milksop. 

"O, I'm all right, " said he, with a reckless laugh, in reply to hiscomrades' bantering. "Give me a chance there--can't you?"

For he was bent on winning back his watch. It seemed that nothing shortof the impossible could turn him aside from that intent. The players maderoom for him, and he prepared his counters, and took up his cards. 

"What do you do, Frank?" was asked impatiently; all were waiting for him. 

What ailed the boy? He held his cards, but he was not looking at them. His eyes were not on the board, nor on his companions, nor on any objectthere. But he was staring with a pallid, intense expression--atsomething. There were anguish, and alarm, and yearning affection in hislook. His hair was disordered, his countenance was white and amazed; hiscomrades were astonished as they watched him. 

"What's the matter, Frank? what's the matter?"

Their importunity brought him to himself. 

"Did you see?" he asked in a whisper. 

They had seen nothing that he had seen. Then it was all an illusion? afragment of his drunken dreams? But no drunken dream was ever like that. 

"Yes, I'll play, " he said, trying to collect himself thinking that hewould forget the illusion, and remembering he had his watch to win back. 

But his heart failed him. His brain, his hand failed him also. Absolutely, he could not play. 

"Boys, I'm not very well. Excuse me--I can't play to-night. "

And hesitatingly, like a person who has been stunned, he got up, and leftthe place. Few felt inclined to jeer him. John Winch begun to saysomething about "the parson going to pray, " but it was frowned down. 

Frank went on deck. The evening was mild, the wind was south, the sky wasclear and starry; it was like a May night in New England. The schoonerwas riding at anchor in the sound; other vessels of the fleet lay aroundher, rocking gently on the tide--dim hulls, with glowing, fiery eyes; andhere there was a band playing, and from afar off came the sound of solemnsinging, wafted on the wind. And the water was all a weltering waste ofwaves and molten stars. 

But little of all this Frank saw, or heard, or heeded. His soul was raptfrom him; he was lost in wonder and grief. 

"Can you tell me any thing?" said a voice at his side. 

"O, Atwater, " said Frank, clutching his hand, "what does it mean? As Iwas playing, I saw--I saw--every thing else disappeared; cards, counters, the bench we were playing on, and there before me, as plainly as I eversaw any thing in my life----"

"What was it?" asked Atwater, as Frank paused, unable to proceed. 

"My sister Hattie. " then said Frank, in a whisper of awe, "in her coffin!in her shroud! But she did not seem dead at all. She was white as thepurest snow; and she smiled up at me--such a sweet, sad smile--O! O!"

And Frank wrung his hands. 

 XVIII. 

 BITTER THINGS. 

Atwater could not have said much to comfort him, even if he had had theopportunity. Some young fellows who had heard of Frank's losses at bluff, and of his intoxication, saw him on deck, and came crowding around tohave some jokes with him. Atwater retired. And Frank, who had littlerelish for jokes just then, went below, and got into his berth, where hecould be quiet, and think a little. 

But thinking alone there with his conscience was torture to him. Heturned on his bed and looked, and saw Atwater sitting in his bunk, witha book in his hand, reading by the dim light. The card-playing was goingon close by, and jokes and oaths and laughter were heard on all sides;but Atwater heeded no one, and no one heeded him. 

Only Frank: he regarded the still, earnest soldier a long time, silentlyadmiring his calmness and strength, so perfectly expressed in his mild, firm, kindly, taciturn face, and wondering what book he had. 

"What are you reading, Atwater?" he at length asked. 

"My Bible, " replied the soldier, giving him a grave, pleasant smile. 

Frank felt pained, --almost jealous. I can't tell how it is, but we don'tlike too well the sight of our companions cheerfully performing thoseduties which we neglect or hate. Cain slew Abel for that cause. 

"I didn't know you read that, " said Frank. 

"I never have too much. But my wife----" The soldier's voice always sunkwith a peculiarly tender thrill whenever he spoke of his bride of anhour, or rather of a minute, whom he had wedded and left in such haste. "She slipped a Bible in my knapsack unbeknown to me. I had a letter fromher to-day, in which she asked me if I read it. So I must read it, andsay yes, if only to please her. But the truth is, " said Atwater, with abrightening eye, "I find good in it I never thought was there before. "

Frank had no word to answer him. Conscience-stricken, sick at heart, miserable as he could be, he could only lie there in his berth, and lookat the brave soldier, and envy him. 

He remembered how, not long ago, when his mother's wishes were more tohim than they had been of late, he had desired to read his Testament forher sake, but had not dared to do so openly, fearing the sneers of hiscomrades. And his mother, in every letter, repeated her injunction, "Myson, read your Testament;"--which had become to him as the idle wind. Fornever now, either by stealth or openly, did he read that book. 

Yet here was this plain, honest soldier, --many called him dull, --for whoma word from one he loved was sufficient; he took the book as if that wordwere law. And the looks, the jests, which Frank had feared, were nothingto him. 

Ashamed, remorseful, angry with himself, the boy lay thinking what heshould do. A few bitter moments only. Then, opening his knapsack, he tookout his Testament, and sitting in his bunk so that the light would shineon the page, opened it and read. His companions saw, and were surprisedenough. But nobody jeered. What was the reason, I wonder?

And this was what Frank read. Written on a blank leaf, with a pencil, inhis own hand, were these words:--

 _"I do now solemnly promise my mother and sisters that, when I am in the army, I will never be guilty of swearing, or gambling, or drinking, or any other mean thing I know they would not approve of. And I do solemnly pledge my word that they shall sooner hear of my death than of my being guilty of any of those things. _ Frank Manly. "

And beneath those words were written these also, in his mother's hand:--

 _"O heavenly Father! I beseech Thee, help my dear son to keep his promises. Give him strength to resist temptation. Save him, I pray Thee, from those who kill the body, but above all from those who kill the soul. If it be Thy gracious will, let him pass safely through whatever evils may beset him, and return to us uncontaminated and unhurt. But if this may not be, then, O, our Saviour! take him, take my precious child, I implore Thee, pure unto Thyself. And help us all so to live, that we shall meet again in joy and peace, if not here, hereafter. Amen. _"

Frank did not turn that page, but sat looking at it long. And he sawsomething besides the words there written. He saw himself once more a boyat home, the evening before his enlistment; pencil in hand, writing thatsolemn promise; his mother watching near; the bright face of his sisterHelen yonder, shadowed by the thought of his going; the little invalidHattie on the lounge, her sad face smiling very much as he saw it smilingout just now from the flowers in the coffin. 

He saw his mother also, pencil in hand, writing that prayer, --hercountenance full of anxious love and tears, her gentle lips tremulouswith blessings. He saw her come to his bed in the moonlight night, whenlast he slept there with little Willie at his side, as maybe he willnever sleep again. And he heard her counsels and entreaties, as she kneltthere beside him; and felt her kisses; and lived over once more thethoughts of that night after she was gone, and when he lay sleepless withthe moonlight on his bed. 

But here he was now--not away there in the room at home, but here, amongsoldiers, on shipboard. And the pure, innocent Frank of that night livedno more. And all those promises had been broken, one by one. And he knewnot what to do, he was so miserable. 

Yet--the sudden thought warmed and thrilled his breast--he might be pureas then, he might be innocent as then, and all the stronger for havingknown what temptation was, and fallen, and risen again. And he might keepthose promises in a higher and nobler sense than he dreamed of when hemade them; and his mother's prayer might, after all, be answered. 

"Frank, " said the voice of Captain Edney. He had come to visit thequarters of his company, and, seeing the boy sitting there so absorbed, his young face charged with thought and grief, had stopped some momentsto regard him, without speaking. 

Frank started, almost like a guilty person, and gave the military saluterather awkwardly as he got upon his feet. He had been secretly dreadingCaptain Edney's displeasure, and now he thought he was to be called to anaccount. 

"I have something for you in my room, " said the officer, with a look ofserious reserve, unlike the cheerful, open, brotherly glance with whichhe formerly regarded the drummer boy. 

Frank accompanied him, wondering what that something was. A reproof forhis drunkenness, or for gambling away the watch, he expected more thanany thing else; and his heart was heavy by the way. 

"Did you know a mail came on board to-day?" said the captain, as theyentered his stateroom. 

Frank remembered hearing Atwater say he had that day got a letter fromhis wife. But his mind had been too much agitated by other things toconsider the subject then. 

"No, sir, I didn't know it. "

"How happens that? You are generally one of the most eager to receiveletters. "

Frank hung his head. What answer could he make? That he was intoxicatedin his berth when the mail arrived? A sweat of shame covered him. He wassilent. 

"Well, well, my boy!"--Captain Edney patted him gently on theshoulder, --"you are forgiven this time. I am sure you did not mean toget drunk. "

"O, sir!" began Frank, but stopped there, over whelmed by the captain'skindness. 

"I know all about it, " said Captain Edney. "Tucket assures me that he andthe rest were more to blame than you. But, for the sake of your friends, Frank, take warning by this experience, and never be betrayed into anything of the kind again. I trust you. And here, my boy, are yourletters. "

He put half a dozen into Frank's hands. And Frank, as he took them, felthis very heart melt within him with gratitude and contrition. He was notthinking so much of the letters as of Captain Edney and his watch. 

"Forgive me; forgive me!" he humbly entreated. 

"I do, freely, as I told you, " said the captain. 

"But--the watch you gave me!"

"Dear boy!"--the captain put his arm kindly about him, --"haven't I alwaystold you I knew nothing about the watch? I did not give it to you, nor doI know what generous friend did. "

"It is true, then?" Frank looked up with a half-glad, half-disappointedexpression. He was disappointed to know that so good a friend was notthe donor of the watch, and yet glad that he had not wronged _him_ bygambling it away. "Then, Captain Edney, I wish you would tell me what todo. I have done the worst and meanest thing. I have lost the watch. "

And he went on to relate how he had lost it. Captain Edney heard him withdeep concern. He had all along felt a sense of responsibility for the boyMrs. Manly had intrusted to him, as well as a genuine affection for him;he had therefore double cause to be pained by this unexpecteddevelopment. 

"Frank, " said he, "I am glad I did not first hear this story from anybody else; and I am glad that the proof of your thorough repentanceaccompanies the confession. That breaks the pain of it. To-morrow I willsee what can be done about the watch. Perhaps we shall get it again. To-night I have only one piece of advice to give. Don't think of winningit back with cards. "

"Then how shall I ever get it?" asked Frank, in despair. For he did notwish his mother to know of the circumstances; and to buy the watch backwhen he was paid off again, would be to withhold money which he feltbelonged to her. 

Captain Edney could not solve the difficulty; and with that burden uponhis mind, Frank returned to his bunk with his letters. 

He bent over them with doubt and foreboding. The first he selected wasfrom his mother. As he opened it, his eye caught these words:--

 ". .. He says that you beat some of the worst men in the regiment at their own vices. He says you are generally smoking, except when you take out your pipe to swear. According to his account, you are one of the profanest of the profane. And he tells of your going with others to steal turkeys of a secessionist in Maryland, and how you got out of the scrape by the most downright lying. He gives the story so circumstantially that I cannot think he invented it, but am compelled to believe there is something in it. O, my child, is it possible? Ill as your sister is, to hear these things of you is a greater trial than the thought of parting with her so soon. Have you forgotten your promises to me? Have you forgotten----"

Frank could read no more. He gnashed his teeth together, and held themtight, like a person struggling against some insupportable pain. Hissister so ill? That was Hattie. He saw the name written farther back. "Hesays, "--"according to his account, "--who was it sending home such storiesabout him? He glanced up the page, until his eye fell upon the name. 

 "_John Winch_----"

O, but this was too much! To be accused of swearing by _him_! To becharged with stealing by one who went with him to steal, and did not, only because he was a coward! Frank felt an impulse to fall instantlyupon that wretched youth, and choke the unmanly life out of him. Johnwas at that moment writing a letter under the lantern, probably fillingit with more tales about him;--and couldn't he tell some great onesnow!--grinning, too, as he wrote; quite unaware what a tiger waswatching him, athirst for his blood. 

Yes. Winch had got letters to-day, and, learning what a lively sensationhis stories of Frank created, had set to work to furnish the sequel tothem; giving interesting particulars up to latest dates. 

N. B. He was writing on the head of Frank's drum, which he had borrowedfor the purpose. He had written his previous letters on the same. It wasa good joke, he thought, to get the boy he was abusing to contribute someneedful assistance towards the work; it added a flavor to treachery. ButFrank did not so much enjoy the pleasantry. He was wild to be beating thetattoo, not on the said drum, but on the head of the rogue who waswriting on the drum, and with his fist for drumsticks. 

But he reflected, "I shall only be getting deeper into trouble, if Ipitch into him. Besides, he is a good deal bigger than I, "--a powerfulargument in favor of forbearance. "I'll wait; but I'll be revenged on himsome way. "

Little did he know--and as little did Winch surmise--how that revenge wasto be accomplished. But it was to be, and soon. 

For the present, Frank had other things to think of. He read of Hattie'sfading away; of her love for him; and the tender messages shesent, --perhaps the last she would ever send to him. And he remembered hiswonderful vision of her that evening. And tears came to cool and softenhis heart. 

And so we quit him for the night, leaving him alone with his letters, hisgrief, and his remorse. 

 XIX. 

 SETH GETS "RILED. "

There is in the life of nearly every young person a turning-point ofdestiny. It may be some choice which he makes for himself, or whichothers make for him, whether of occupation, or companion, or rule oflife. It may be some deep thought which comes to him in solitaryhours, --some seed of wisdom dropped from the lips of teacher, parent, orfriend, sinking silently as starlight into the soul, and taking immortalroot there, unconsciously, perhaps, even to himself. Now it is thequickening of the spirit at the sight of God's beautiful universe--arapture of love awakened by a morning in spring, by the blue infinity ofthe sky, by the eternal loneliness and sublimity of the sea. Or, in somemoment of susceptibility, the smiles of dear home faces, the tender trillof a voice, a surge of solemn music, may have power over the young heartto change its entire future. And again, it is some vivid experience oftemptation and suffering that shapes the great hereafter. For theDivinity that maketh and loveth us is forever showering hints of beautyand blessedness to win back our wandering affections, --dropping cords ofgentlest influences to draw home again all hearts that will come. 

Then the spirit of the youth rises up within him, and says, --

"Whereas I was blind, now I am beginning to see. And whereas I was weak, now, with God's help, I will strive for better things. Long enough have Ibeen the companion of folly, and all the days of my life have I been achild. But now I perceive that I am to become a man, and I willhenceforth think the thoughts and do the deeds of a man. "

Such an experience had come to Frank; and thus, on the new morning, as hebeheld it rise out of the sea, his spirit spake unto him. 

He answered his mother's letter, confessing that his conduct had affordedonly too good a foundation for Jack's stories. 

"The trouble, I think, is, " said he, "that I wrote my promises firstwith _a pencil_. They did get a little _rubbed out_ I own. I have sincetaken _a pen_, and written them all over again, word by word, and letterby letter, _with ink_. So you may depend upon it, dear mother, that notanother syllable of my pledge will _get blurred_ or _dimmed_, either onthe _leaf of my Testament_; or on the _page of my heart_. Only _believethis_, and then you may believe as much as you please of what J. W. Writes. "

Not a word to the same _J. W. _ did Frank say of the base thing he haddone; and as for the revenge he had vowed, the impulse to wreak it intigerish fashion had passed like a night-fog before the breezy purity ofthe new life that had dawned. 

In a couple of days Frank had mostly recovered his equanimity. The lossof the watch was still a source of anxious grief to him, however; less onhis own account, let me say, than for the sake of the unknown giver. Norhad he, as yet, found any opportunity to atone for his rudeness to theold drum-major, who had lately, for some cause, gone over to the otherwing of the regiment on board the steamer, so that Frank yearned in vainto go to him and humbly beg forgiveness for his fault. 

"What has taken Mr. Sinjin away?" he asked of his friend, the youngcorporal. 

Gray shrugged his shoulders, and looked at Frank as if he had a good mindto tell a secret. 

"How should I know? He's such a crotchety old boy. I don't think he couldaccount for his conduct himself. He asked permission to remove hisquarters to the steamer, and got it; pretending, I believe, that he couldhave better accommodations there. "

"And _I_ believe, " said Frank, "that you know more about it than youwill own. "

"Well, I have my suspicions. Shall I be candid with you, Frank? andyou'll forgive me if I hurt your feelings?"

"Yes, " said Frank, anxiously. 

"Well, then, " said Gray. "I suppose you know Sinjin had taken a greatfancy to you. "

"I thought at one time he liked me. "

"At one time? I'll wager my head he was liking you the most when heappeared to the least--he's such a queer old cove! I've heard he wasdisappointed in love once, and that some friend of his proved traitor tohim; and that's what has made him so shy of showing any thing likeaffection for any body. Well, he heard of your gambling, and went to talkwith you about it, and you said something to him that wounded him so Ithink he couldn't bear the sight of you afterwards. "

The boy's heart was wrung by this revelation. What reason, he demanded toknow, had Gray for thinking thus?

"Because I know the man, and because I know something which I think youought to know. " Gray drew Frank confidentially aside. "He mayanathematize me for betraying his secret; but I think it is time to dohim justice, even against his will. Frank, it was Old Sinjin who gave youthe watch. "

Frank's heart leaped up, but fell again instantly, convulsed with painand regret. 

"Are you sure, Gray?"

"Sure as this: I was with him when he bought the watch in Annapolis. Ihelped him to do it up in the wrappers. And it was I that pitched it intothe tent at you Thanksgiving-day evening. That is being prettysure--isn't it?"

"And he knows that I lost it?" said Frank. 

"He had just heard so when he went to speak with you about gambling. "

"And I told him it was none of his business, " said Frank, remorsefully. "O, he will never forgive me now; and who can blame him? Good old man!dear, good old man! My mother told me to be always very kind to him--andhow have I repaid his goodness to me!"

It seemed now that the boy could not control his impatience until oncemore he had seen his benefactor, confessed all to him, and heard him sayhe was forgiven for his unkindness and ingratitude. 

But the old drummer still remained on board the steamer. And Frank hadonly this faith to comfort him--that if his repentance was sincere, andhe henceforth did only what was right, all would yet be well. 

The next morning he was viewing the sunrise from the deck, when SethTucket came to his side. 

"'Once more upon the waters! yet once more! and the waves bound beneathme as the steed that knows his rider--welcome to their roar!' Only theydon't bound much, and they don't roar to-day, " said Seth. "The boys havefound out it's Sunday; and as we're to have a battle 'fore the week'sout, they seem to think it's about as well to remember there's adifference in days. How are you, Manly?"

"Better, " said Frank, with a smile. 

"Happy?"--with a grimace meant to be sympathizing, but which was drollenough to be laughable. 

"Happier than I was, " said the drummer boy. "Happier than I've been for along time. "

"What! not happier, now you've lost every thing, than when you was hevin'such luck at play?"

"I wasn't happy then. I thought I was. But I was only excited. I amhappier now that I've lost every thing; it's true, Tucket. "

"Well, I swan to man! I thought you was mourning over your luck, and Iwas bringing ye sunthin' to kind o' cheer ye up. Glad to hear you've noneed. Fine day, but rather windy. Wonder what's the time!"

So saying, Seth drew out the watch, and regarded it with provokingcoolness. 

"I'm plagued ef the darned thing hain't run down! Say, Frank, ye couldn'tthink of throwin' in the key, too--could ye? I can't wind her up withouta key. "

Frank choked a little, but his look was cheerful, as he put his hand inhis pocket, and, without a word, delivered over to the new owner of thewatch the key also. 

"Thank ye; much obleeged;" and Seth "wound her up" with extraordinaryparade. Then he shook it, and held it to his ear. Then he said, "Allright! she's a puttin' in again, lickety-switch! Good watch, that. " Thenhe set it "by guess. " Then he was returning it to his pocket, when a newthought seemed to strike him. 

"What do ye do for a watch-pocket, Frank? Gov'ment don't providewatch-pockets, seems. "

"I made one for myself, " said Frank. 

"Sho now! ye didn't, though--did ye? What with?"

"With a needle and thread I brought from home, and with another oldpocket, " said Frank. 

"Well, you air the cutest! Say, what'll ye tax to make me one? I don'tcare to hev it very large; a small watch, so. "

A dry proposal, that. It was not enough to furnish watch and watch-key;but Frank was required also to provide a watch-pocket. 

"What do ye say?" asked Seth, with a shrewd squint. 

"I'll make you one for nothing, " said Frank. 

"Come, by darn!" exclaimed Seth; "none o' that, now!"

"None of what?"

"You're a-trying my disposition!"--And, indeed, Tucket was visibly moved;there was a tear in his eye--a bona fide tear. "I've a good disposition, nat'rally; but I shall git riled ef you say much more. I've got yourwatch, and that's all right. I've got the key, and that's all right, too. But when you talk of makin' a watch-pocket for nothin', I tell ye a saintcouldn't stand that. "

Frank, who thought he had learned to know pretty well the man's oddities, was puzzled this time. 

"I didn't mean to offend you, Tucket. "

"No, you didn't. And now see here, Manly. We'll jest compromise thismatter, ef you've no 'bjection. I've no watch-pocket, and you've nowatch. So, s'posin' you carry the watch for me, and tell me what time itis when I ax ye? That won't be too much trouble--will it?"

"Are you in earnest?" asked Frank. 

"Yes, I be, clean up to the hub. The truth is, I can't carry that watchwith any kind o' comfort, and I'm bent on gitt'n' it off my hands, ef Ihef to throw it overboard. Here! It's yours; take it, and be darned!"said Seth. 

"I was going to propose to you, "--stammered Frank from his too fullheart, --"to take the watch, and pay you for it when I can. "

"Ez for that the pay's no consequence. I was more to blame than you; andthe loss ought to be mine. "

"But----" insisted Frank. 

"No buts! Besides, I never make bargains Sundays. " And Seth turned away, abruptly, leaving the watch in Frank's hand. 

The boy would have called him back, but a rush of emotions--joy, gratitude, contrition--choked his voice. A dash of tears fell upon thewatch as he gazed on it, and pressed it, and would have kissed it, had hebeen alone. It was his again; and that, after all, was an unalloyedsatisfaction. He could lie awake nights and study days to devise means toreward Seth's generosity. And he would do it, he resolved. And Mr. Sinjinshould know that he had recovered the prize, and that he held it all themore precious since he had found out the giver. 

 XX. 

 SUNDAY BEFORE THE BATTLE. 

Frank was leaning over the rail of the schooner gazing down at thebeautiful flashing water, and thinking of home. It was Sunday there, too, he remembered; and he could almost hear the sweet-toned bells solemnlychiming, and see the atmosphere of Sabbath peace brooding over field andvillage, and feel the serious gladness of the time. The folks weregetting ready for church. There was his father, shaved and clean, in hisblack stock and somewhat threadbare, but still respectable, best coat. And there was Helen, bright and blooming, with her bonnet on, and withher Bible and question-book in her hand, setting out for the morningSunday-school. His mother was not going to meeting; she was to stay athome with Hattie, and read to her, or, what was better, comfort her withaffectionate, gentle, confiding words. But Willie was going with Helen, as he seemed anxious, by strut, and hurry, and loud, impatient talk, tolet every body know. And Frank wished from his heart that he could bewith them that day; and he wondered, did they miss him, and were theythinking of him, far off here in Carolina waters, alone in the midst ofsuch crowds of men?

"Wouldn't I like to be in that boat, boys!" said Ellis. "Don't she comedancing on the waves!"

"She's pulling towards us, " said Atwater. "I believe they're comingaboard. "

"O, Atwater!" cried Frank, as the boat drew near. "There's a face there Iknow! One you know, too!" And he clapped his hands with joy; for it was aface he had seen in Boston, and he felt that it came with news from home. 

The rare brightness kindled in Atwater's eyes as he gazed, and remembered. The boat came alongside, and hailed the schooner. And a man in the bow, as it rose upon a wave, seizing hold of the ladder of tarred rope, stepped quickly upon it, and came on board, cordially received by CaptainEdney, who appeared to have been expecting him. 

"It's the minister that married Atwater!" the rumor ran round among thetroops. "What's his name, Frank?"

"His name's Egglestone, " said Frank, his heart swelling with anxiety tospeak with him. 

The minister had come on a mission of Christian love to the soldiers ofthe expedition; and having, the day before, sent word to Captain Edney ofhis arrival, he had in return received an invitation to visit theschooner and preach to the men this Sunday morning. 

A previous announcement that religious services would probably be held onboard, had excited little interest; the troops surmising that thechaplain of the regiment, who had never been with them enough to wintheir hearts or awaken their attention, was to rejoin them, and preachone of his formal discourses. 

But far different was the feeling when it was known that the "man thatmarried Atwater" was to conduct the exercises. Then the soldiersremembered that they were New Englanders; and that here also God'sSabbath shed its silent influence, far though they were from the rudehills and rocky shores of home. 

'Tis curious how a little leaven of memory will sometimes work in theheart. Here was half a regiment of men, who had come to fight the battlesof their country. As with one accord they had left the amenities ofpeaceful life behind them, and assumed the rugged manners of war. Of latethey had seemed almost oblivious of the fact that God, and Christianworship, and Christian rules of life were still in existence. But to-daythey were reminded. To-day the child was awakened--the child that hadknown the wholesome New England nurture, that had sat on mother's knee, and had its earliest thought tuned to the music of Sunday bells; thechild that lay hidden in the deep heart of every man of them, the samelived again, and looked forth from the eyes, and smiled once more in thesoftened visage of the man. And the man was carried back, far from thesestrange scenes, far from the relentless iron front of war, across alienlands, and over stormy seas, --carried back by the child yearningwithin, --to the old door yard, the village trees, the family fireside, the family pew, and the hushed congregation. 

It was Mr. Egglestone's aim, in the beginning of the sermon he preachedthat morning, to remind the soldiers of their childhood. "It is athought, " he said, "which almost moves me to tears, --that all these hardyframes around me were but the soft, warm, dimpled forms of so manyinfants once. And nearly every one of you was, I suppose, watched over bytender parents, who beheld, with mutual joy, the development of eachbeautiful faculty. The first step taken by the babe's unassisted feet, the first articulate word spoken by the little lisping lips, --whatdelight they gave, and how long were they remembered! And what thoughtsof the child's future came day and night to those parents' breasts! andof what earnest prayers was it the subject! And of all the parents of allthose children who are here as men to-day, not one foresaw a scene likethis; none dreamed that they were raising up patriots to fight forfreedom's second birth on this continent, in the most stupendous of civilwars. 

"But Providence leads us by strange ways, and by hidden paths we comeupon brinks of destiny which no prophet foresaw. Now the days of peaceare over. Many of you who were children are now the fathers of children. But your place is not at home to watch over them as you were watchedover, but to strive by some means to work out a harder problem than anyever ciphered on slates at school. "

Then he explained to his audience the origin of the war; for he believedit best that every soldier should understand well the cause he wasfighting for. He spoke of the compact of States, which could not berightfully broken. He spoke of the serpent that had been nursed in thebosom of those States. He related how slavery, from being at first amerely tolerated evil, which all good men hoped soon to see abolished, had grown arrogant, aggressive, monstrous; until, angered by resistanceto its claims, it had deluged the land with blood. Such was the nature ofan institution based upon selfishness and wrong. And such was the bitterresult of building a LIE into the foundations of our national structure. Proclaiming to the world, as the first principle of our republican formof government, that "all men are created free and equal, " we had at thesame time held a race in bondage. 

"Neither nation nor individual, " said he, "can in any noble sensesucceed, with such rotten inconsistency woven into its life. It was thisshoddy in the garment of our Goddess of Liberty, which has occasioned therent which those needles there"--pointing to some bayonets--"must mend. And it is this shoddy of contradiction and infidelity which makes many aman's prosperity, seemingly substantial at first, promising warmth andwear, fall suddenly to pieces, and leave his soul naked to the winds ofheaven. "

It was not so much a sermon as a friendly, affectionate, earnest talkwith the men, whom he sought to counsel and encourage. There was amelting love in his tones which went to their inmost souls. And when heexhorted them to do the work of men who feared God, but not any mortalfoe, who dreaded dishonor, but not death, he made every heart ring withthe stirring appeal. 

Then suddenly his voice sank to a tone of solemn sweetness, as he said, --

"Peace! O, my brothers! struggle and violence are not the all of life. But God's love, the love of man to man, holiness, blessedness, --it is forthese realities we are created, and placed here on this beautiful earth, under this blue sky, with human faces and throbbing human hearts aroundus. And the end of all is PEACE. But only through fiery trial and valiantdoing can any peace worth the name come to us; and to make the futuretruly blessed, we must make the present truly brave. "

Before and after the discourse the men sang some of the good old tuneswhich all had been familiar with at home, and which descended like warmrain upon the ground where the scattered seed of the sermon fell. 

The services ended, Mr. Egglestone went freely among the soldiers, andconversed with any who wanted to have speech of him; especially withAtwater; whose wife he had seen a few days before leaving Boston, whereshe came to see him, having learned who he was, and that he was aboutdeparting for the army in which her husband served. 

After long waiting, Frank's turn came at last. They sat down on a benchapart; and the clergyman told him he had lately seen his mother, and thatshe had charged him with many messages. And one was a message of sorrow. 

"She had heard unwelcome news of you, " he said, holding the boy's hand. "And she wished me to say to you what I could to save you from what shedreads most--what any wise, loving mother dreads most for her child. Butis there need of my saying any thing? By what your captain tells me, andstill more by what your face tells me, I am convinced that I may spare mywords. You have had in your own experience a better lesson than any bodycan teach you. You have erred, you have suffered. And"--he took a letterfrom his pocket--"I have something here to make you remember what youhave learned--I think, for always. "

Frank had listened, humbly, tremblingly, full of tears which he did notshed for the eyes that were about them. But now he started, and took theletter eagerly. "What's it? any bad news?" for he felt an alarmingpresentiment. 

"I do not think it is bad. If you had seen what I saw, you would notthink so either. " Mr. Egglestone's manner was exceedingly tender, and hisvoice was liquid and low. "All is well with your folks at home; both withthose who are there as you left them, and with the one whose true home isnot there any longer, but in a brighter land, we trust. "

"O!"--it was almost a cry of pain that broke from Frank. "Hattie?"

"Yes, Frank; it is of Hattie I am speaking. She has passed away. I waspresent, and saw her depart. And she was very calm and happy, and herlast look was a smile, and her last words were words of hope and love. The letter will tell you all about it. I recall one thing, however, whichI will repeat, since it so nearly concerns you. They were speaking ofyou. And she said, 'Maybe I shall see him before any of you will! Yes!'she added, her face shining already like a spirit's with the joyfulthought, 'tell him how I love him; and say that I shall be with him whenhe does not know!' And I am sure that, if it is possible for souls thathave escaped from these environments of flesh to be near us still, shewill often be near you, loving you, influencing you. Perhaps she ispresent now, and hears all we say, and sees how badly you feel, andthinks you would not feel quite so badly if you knew that she is happy. "

Frank would have spoken, to ask some earnest question which arose in hisheart; but his feelings were too much agitated, and he could not trusthis voice. 

"We will believe such things are true of our lost ones, " Mr. Egglestonesaid, with a parting pressure of the boy's hand. "For, with that faith, we shall surely try so to live that, when they approach us, they will notbe repelled; and thus we will be guarded from evil, if not by any directinfluence of theirs, then by our own reverence and love for them. "

With this he took his leave. And Frank crept into his bunk, and turnedaway his face, before he dared to open and read his mother's letter. 

In that letter there were no reproofs for his misconduct. But in place ofsuch his mother had written the simple story of Hattie's death, with manyaffecting little details, showing her thoughtful tenderness for all, hercheerful sweetness, and her love for Frank. Then followed affectionatemessages from them at home, who were very lonely now, and longed to havehim with them--all which had a power beyond any reproaches to win the boyback to that purity of heart and life which belonged to hishome-affections, and was safe when they were strong, and was imperilledwhen they were forgotten. 

"O, to think, " he said to himself, "only this morning I was imagining howit looked at home to-day--and it is all so different! I am gone, and nowHattie is gone too!"

 XXI. 

 UP THE SOUND. 

So passed that Sunday, memorable to the expedition; for it ushered in thebattle-week. 

Besides the transports and store-ships belonging to the coast division, asquadron of United States gunboats, under command of CommodoreGoldsborough, had rendezvoused at the inlet. These were to take care ofthe rebel fleet, attend to the shore batteries, and prepare the way forthe operation of the land forces. 

All the vessels destined to take part in the advance were now over thebulkhead, in Pamlico Sound. On Monday, the sailing vessels were hauledinto position, each astern of its steam-consort, by which it was to betowed. Sixty-five vessels of various classes were to participate in themovement; while upwards of fifty were to remain behind at the inlet, holding in reserve sixty days' supply of stores for the entireexpedition. 

The stay at the inlet had occasionally been enlivened by the arrival ofrefugees, white and black, from the coast of North Carolina. Some ofthese were citizens escaped from the persecutions meted out by the rebelsto all who still remained loyal to the old flag. Some were deserters fromthe confederate army, in which they had been compelled to serve. Otherswere slaves fleeing from bondage to freedom. 

Again, on Monday, a sail-boat hove in sight, and, being overhauled by oneof the gunboats, proved to be loaded with these fugitives. They weremostly negroes; two of whom were bright, intelligent boys, who gave suchevidence of joy at their escape, of loyalty to the Union, and of athorough knowledge of the country, that Flag-officer Goldsboroughretained them for the information they might be able to give, while therest were sent ashore. 

And now, general orders were read to the troops, announcing to them thatthey were soon to land on the coast of North Carolina, and reminding themthat they were there, not to pillage or destroy private property, but tosubdue the rebellion, and to maintain the Constitution and the laws. 

Monday and Tuesday were occupied with preparations. But early Wednesdaymorning--more than three weeks after the arrival of the expedition at theinlet--the signals to weigh anchor and set sail were given. 

Commodore Goldsborough's gunboat took the lead. Other vessels of thenaval squadron followed. Then came the transports--a goodly spectacle. 

"''Twere wuth ten years of peaceful life, one glance at our array, '"observed the poetical Tucket. 

Each brigade formed three columns of steamers and sailing vessels in tow;and brigade followed brigade. The shallow water of the sound was scarcelyruffled by a breeze. It lay like a field of silver before the furrows ofthe fleet. The tall, taper masts of the schooners pointed like needles tothe sky under which they moved. The aisles between the three columns ofships were unbroken through the whole length of the fleet, which extendedfor two miles over the surface of the sound, and advanced with such slowand uniform motion, each vessel keeping its position, that now all seemedmoving as one, and again all seemed at rest, with the waters of the soundflowing past their steady keels. 

As yet, the destination of the fleet was unknown. As it proceeded atfirst southward and westward, the rumor grew that Newbern was to beattacked. But it was only the course of the channel which thus far shapedits course; and after a few zigzag turns, the cause of which wasinexplicable to the green ones, ignorant of the shoals, it began to steerdue north. Then all doubts with regard to its destination vanished. 

"Roanoke Island, boys! Roanoke Island!" was echoed from mouth to mouth onboard the schooner. 

The day was beautiful--only a light breeze blowing, and a few lightclouds floating in the blue ether. And now the vessels at the inlet beganto sink below the horizon; first, the hulls, then the decks disappeared;and lastly, spars and rigging went down behind the curve of the sphere, and were visible no more to the clearest glass. 

At the same time emerged in the west the main land of North Carolina. Atfirst, tall cypresses rose to view, growing as it were "out of a mirror. "Then appeared the long swampy shores, lying dim and low, with here andthere a miserable fish-house, the sole trace of human habitation. 

At sundown the fleet was within ten miles of Roanoke Island. The signalfrom the flag-ship was given, at which the vessels of each brigade drewtogether, the clank of running-out chains sounded along the lines, theanchors plashed, and the fleet was moored for the night. 

As yet there were no signs of rebels. What the morrow, what the night, might bring forth was all uncertainty. The night set in dark enough. Butsoon the sky cleared, the moon came out resplendent, and the stars lookeddown from their far eternal calm upon the evanescent shows of mortalconflict--the batteries of the rebellion yonder, and here the fleet, nomore than the tiniest shells to those distant, serene, awful eyes ofDeity. And Frank looked up at the stars; and the spirit within him said, "They will shine the same to-morrow night, and the next night, andforever; and whether there is war or peace, whether victory comes ordefeat, and whether thou, child, art living or art dead, they know not, they change not, neither do they rejoice or mourn. " And the thought sankdeep into the heart of the boy as he retired to his bed, and closed hiseyes to sleep. 

A sharp lookout was kept for the rebel gunboats all night, but they nevermade their appearance. The next morning the weather was heavy--promisingrain. At eight o'clock, however, the signal to weigh anchor--the UnionJack at the foremast, and the American flag at the stern--was telegraphedfrom the flag-ship, and repeated by the flag-ship of each brigade. Againthe fleet got in motion, approaching the entrance to Croatan Sound. Thewater was shoal, and progress was slow, and soon it came on to rain. Itwas a dismal day; rain on the decks, rain on the water, rain on themarshy shores of the main land, and over the forests beyond, where theghosts of blasted trees stretched their naked arms despairingly to thedripping clouds. And now a low swampy point of Roanoke Island pushes outinto the dim water, under a veil of rain. 

At about noon, most of the vessels came to anchor. But some of thegunboats advanced to the entrance of Croatan Sound, and reconnoitred. Therebel fleet was discovered, drawn up in line of battle on the west sideof the island, awaiting the conflict. A fog coming on, active operationsagainst the enemy were postponed, and the gunboats, withdrawing also, came to anchor for the night. 

During the day, several of the armed steamers, which had served astransports, prepared to cooperate with the naval squadron in their truecharacter as gunboats; the troops on board of them being distributedamong other vessels of the coast division. Among the steamers thuscleared was the schooner's consort; and thus it happened that Mr. Sinjinreturned to his old quarters, to the great joy of the drummer boy, whoseheart burned within him at the thought of meeting his old friend oncemore, after their unhappy parting. 

They met, indeed; but the schooner was now so crowded, and such was thestir on board, that Frank scarce found an opportunity to offer theveteran his hand, and get one look out of those serious gray eyes. 

The drummers being assembled, the surgeon came to them, and gave each astrip of red flannel to tie on his arm as a token, at the same timeinforming them that, when the troops landed, they were to go with him andhelp carry the wounded. 

"This begins to look like serious business, my boy, " said the olddrummer, kindly, as he stooped to assist Frank in tying on his badge. 

His touch was very gentle. Frank's breast began to swell. But before hecould speak the old man had disappeared in the crowd. 

"He don't know yet that I know he gave me the watch, " thought the boy, "and he wouldn't look and see that I have it again. "

Then he regarded the red token on his arm, and remembered that they allhad other things to think of now. 

Picket-boats were out in advance all night, at the entrance to CroatanSound, in the darkness and fog, keeping watch for the enemy. No enemyappeared. Towards morning, however, the fog lifting, two rebel steamerswere seen hastily taking to their heels, having come down in theobscurity to see what they could see. 

It was Friday, the 7th of February. The morning was beautiful; thesunrise came in clouds of glory; there was as yet no taint of battle inthe purity of the air. It was a lovely day for a sea fight. Frank climbedinto the rigging to observe. 

At ten o'clock Goldsborough's gunboats could be seen making their way, one by one, cautiously, through the narrow channel between marshy islandsinto Croatan Sound. There were nineteen of them. The gunboats of thecoast division followed, six in number. The S. R. Spaulding, to whichBurnside had transferred his flag, next went in, making signals for thetransports to follow. 

Far off a gun was heard. It was only a signal fired by a rebel steamer toannounce the approach of the squadron; but it thrilled the hearts of thetroops waiting to go into battle. 

An hour later another cannon boomed, nearer and louder. It was a shottossed from the commodore's flag-ship at the rebels, who promptlyresponded. 

The flag-ship now hoisted the signal, --

"THIS DAY OUR COUNTRY EXPECTS EVERY MAN TO DO HIS DUTY. "

From ship to ship, from man to man, from heart to heart, thrilled theelectric message. It was greeted by cheers and the thunder of guns. Thiswas at half past eleven o'clock. 

 XXII. 

 THE ATTACK OF THE GUNBOATS. 

The spars of the transports were beginning to be thronged. Corporal Graybrought up a glass to Frank. 

"O, good!" cried Frank. "Is it yours?"

"No; it belongs to Mr. Sinjin. "

"Did he send it to me?"

"Not he! But he had been casting that sharp eye of his up at you, and Iknew what he meant when he said, 'Corporal, there's a good lookout fromthe masthead, if you'd like to take a glass up there. "

"Did he really mean it for me, after all my bad treatment of him?" saidFrank. "Bless his old heart!"

With his naked eye for the general view, and the glass to bring out thedetails, Frank enjoyed a rare spectacle that day. Roanoke Island and itssurroundings lay outspread before him like a map. On the west of it wasCroatan Sound, separating it from the marshes and forests of the mainland. On the east was Roanoke Sound, a much narrower sheet of water;beyond which stretched that long, low, interminable strip of land whichforms the outer coast, or seaboard, of this double-coasted country. Stilleast of that glimmered the blue rim of the Atlantic, a dozen miles away. At about the same distance, on the north, beyond Roanoke Island and thetwo sounds each side of it, opened the broad basin of Albemarle Sound, like an inland sea. The island itself appeared to be some twelve miles inits greatest length, and two or three in breadth, indented with numerouscreeks and coves, and forming a slight curve about Croatan Sound. It waswithin this curve that the naval battle took place. It had now fairlybegun. 

At noon the flag-officer's ship displayed the signal for closer action, and the engagement soon became general. 

The enemy's gunboats, seven in number, showed a disposition to fight atlong range, retreating up the sound as the fleet advanced--a movementwhich soon brought the latter under the fire of a battery that openedfrom the shore. 

The air, which had previously been perfectly clear that morning, was nowloaded with clouds of smoke, which puffed from a hundred guns, andsurging up from the vessels of the squadron, from the rebel gunboats, andfrom the shore battery, rolled away in broken, sun-illumined masses, wafted by a light northeasterly breeze. 

The soldiers in the rigging of the transports could see the flashes burstfrom the cannons' mouths, the spouted smoke, the shots throwing up highin air the water or sand as they struck, or coming skip-skip across thesound, the shells exploding, and the terrible roar of the battle filledthe air. 

For a time the fire of the attack was about equally divided between therebel steamers and the fortification on the island. It was soondiscovered, however, that boats had been sunk and a line of piles drivenacross the channel abreast of the battery, to prevent the farther advanceof our gunboats in that direction. Behind those the retreating steamersdiscreetly withdrew, where they were presently reënforced by severalother armed vessels. The gunboats made no attempt to follow, but tookpositions to give their principal attention to the battery. 

The fire from the shore gradually slackened, and thousands of heartsswelled anew as the hour seemed at hand when the troops were to land andcarry the works at the point of the bayonet. 

Burnside paced the deck of the Spaulding, keeping an eye on the fort, watching the enemy's shots, and looking impatiently for the arrival ofthe transports. At length they came crowding through the inlet, droppingtheir anchors in the sound just out of range of the fort. Seen from thegunboats, they were a sight not less astonishing than that which theythemselves were coming to witness. Troops, eagerly watching the conflict, crowded the decks and hung upon the rigging like swarms of bees. Ropes, masts, and yards were festooned with the heavy, clinging clusters, whichseemed ready to part and fall with their own weight. The effect of thepicture was enhanced by the mellow brilliancy of the afternoon sky, against which the dark masses were clearly defined, and by the perfecttranquility of the water, like a sea of glass mirroring the ships andtheir loaded spars. 

The gunboats sent to the ships the roar of their artillery, and the shipssent back the chorus of thousands of cheering voices for every well-aimedshot. 

Frank was in the rigging of the schooner, watching the fight, makingdrawings to send to his mother, and talking with his comrades, among whomSinjin's glass passed from hand to hand. 

"I tell ye, boys!" remarks Seth Tucket, "this is a leetle ahead of anygame of bluff ever I took a hand in! The battery is about used up. S'poseyou look at your--my--our watch, Frank, and see how often the darnedrebels fire. "

"Once in about ten minutes now, " Frank informs him. "O! did you see thatshell burst? Right over one of our gunboats!"

"She's aground, " says Gray, with the glass. "She can neither use her gunsnor get off! A little tug is going to help her. "

"Bully for the tug!" says Jack Winch. 

"Hurrah! hurrah!" ring the deafening plaudits from the ships. 

"What is it?" is eagerly asked. 

"The battery's flag-staff is shot away!" shouts Frank at the top of hisvoice. "Hooray!"

"Some think the flag has been hauled down, to surrender the fort, butit's a mistake, " declares Gray. "See! up it goes again on a piece of thepole! And the guns are at it again. "

"Where's Burnside?" asks some one. And Tucket quotes, --

"'O, where was Roderick then? One blast upon his bugle horn were worth athousand men!'"

"He is sending off a boat to the shore yonder, to look for alanding-place. We'll be going in there soon, boys!"

The boat approaches a cove called Ashby's Harbor, taking soundings as itnears the land. On board of her is one of the negro lads, who fearlesslypilots her towards scenes familiar to his days of bondage. 

"They'd better keep their eyes skinned!" says Tucket. "There's rebels inthe mash there, I bet ye a dollar!"

The officers of the boat land safely, and reconnoitre. As they arereëmbarking, however, up spring from the tall grass a company of rebels, and flash, flash, goes a volley of musketry. 

"I wish somebody had took me up on my bet, " says Tucket; "'twould havebeen a dollar in my pocket. "

"They're off; nobody left behind; nobody hurt, I hope, " says Gray, watching the boat. 

"Look, boys! the rebels works are afire!" is now the cry. 

Flames break through the smoke, and the firing slackens on both sides fora short time. 

"It's only the barracks, probably, fired by a shell, " says Gray. "They'veno idea of surrendering. They hold out well!"

The battery is completely enveloped in black smoke, out of which leapsthe white puff of the cannon, showing that the gunners are still at work. 

"See! the gunboat that was aground is getting off! that's a brave tugthat's handling her!" cries Frank "O!"--an exclamation of surprise andwonder. For just then the gunboat, swinging around so that she can bringher guns to bear, lets fly her broadside, dropping shot and shell rightinto the smoking battery. 

"It's about time, " says Jack Winch, "for us boys to go ashore and cleanthe rebels out. I'm a gitting tired of this slow work. "

"You'll get ashore soon enough, and have enough to do when you getthere, " says Atwater. "There are strong batteries towards the centre ofthe islands, that'll have to be taken when we go in. "

"Abe's afraid, " mutters Jack to some comrades near him. "Did ye see him, and Frank, and Seth Tucket, reading their Testaments?"

"It was the 'Lady of the Lake' Seth was reading, " says Harris. "Hecarries it in his pocket, and pitches into it odd spells. "

"Winch don't know the Lady of the Lake from the Bible!" chimes inTucket's high nasal voice. 

"Yes, I do, too! The Lady of the Lake, that's one of Bryon's poems!S'pose I don't know?"

"O, perfectly!" sneers Ellis, amid the laughter Jack's blunder elicits. "And no doubt you'll soon find out who the cowards are among us, if youdon't know already. "

"What's that, afire, away up the sound, close into the main land?" asksthe phlegmatic Atwater. 

"I swan, ef 'tan't one of the rebel steamers! She's got disabled, andthey've run her ashore. She's all a sheet of fire now!"

"What's that saucy little tug around here for?"

"Burnside's aboard of her. He's coming to see if we're all right. Weshall land soon, " says Gray. 

"See!" cries Frank; "our gunboats are shelling the shore, to make alanding-place for us. I wouldn't like to be in the woods there!"

"I guess Frank wouldn't!" observes Jack. "But I would; I'd like no betterfun than to rush right in and skedaddle the rebels with the bayonet;that's the way to do it!"

"The woods are afire! Our shells have set them afire!" cries Ellis. "Look! there come the rebel steamers again, down the western shore. Theythink they can get down at us, now our gunboats are busy off there. "

"When the cat's away the mice will play, " says Tucket. "But the kittensare after 'em!"

"There goes Burnside's tug to see what the row is!"

"The battery scarcely fires at all now, " says Frank, looking at hiswatch. "It's twenty minutes since it has fired a shot. "

"There goes one! And see! the gunboats are fighting each other now likemad--again!" cries Gray. "They're all so wrapped in smoke you can hardlysee one of 'em. "--Bang, bang, bang!--"Isn't it grand?"

"A shell burst right over Burnside's tug!" exclaims Frank. "It burst, andsprinkled the water all around it!"

 XXIII. 

 THE TROOPS DISEMBARK. --THE ISLAND. 

At four o'clock the last of the transports had entered the inlet, andrejoined the fleet. Soon after commenced preparations for the landing ofthe troops. The boats were lowered and manned, and the soldiers, descending from decks and spars, began to crowd into them. Knapsacks wereleft behind; the men taking with them only their arms, overcoats, canteens, haversacks, and cartridge-boxes, with three days' rations ofpork, beef, and hard bread, and forty rounds of ball cartridges. Downboth sides of the vessels they passed, in rapid regular files, pouringinto the boats. Their guns were taken as they stepped upon the stairs, and passed down to them as soon as they were embarked. Some took placesat the oars; the rest filed in fore and aft. It must have been an amazingspectacle to the enemy to witness these stirring and formidablepreparations for finishing the work the gunboats had begun. The troopswere jubilant, and eager for battle. 

As fast as the boats were filled, they pushed from the stairs to makeroom for others, and lay upon their oars watching for the signals. Thesewere telegraphed from the flag-ship of each brigade. At the instant, theboats swarmed the water in miniature fleets, with oars flashing, flagsflying, and arms gleaming in the sun. Rowing to the flag-ship, or steamerdetailed for the purpose, they attached themselves under her stern in twolines as they arrived, each boat taking the painter of the one behind itThen, at a signal whistle, the steamers started for the shore, eachtowing its double string of boats. 

In the mean time the fight between the fleet and the battery wascontinued, --rather languidly, however, on the part of the battery; and acouple of light draught gunboats, running in close to the shore, continued shelling the woods about Ashby's Harbor, to cover the landingof the troops. 

When the steamers towing in the boats had arrived as near as the depth ofwater would permit, the signal whistles were sounded, the painters werecast off, the lines of boats broke simultaneously, the rowers took totheir oars and pulled with all speed for the shore. As soon as the prowsstruck, the men jumped out, dashing through mud and water to the land. Many did not wait for the boats to get in, but, in their eagerness tofollow their comrades, leaped overboard where the water was up to theirwaists. Some got stuck in the mire, and were helped out by those who cameafter them. Six thousand men were thus thrown upon the island at thefirst disembarkation; while the remainder of the troops on the transportswatched the brilliant scene, and cheered lustily when they saw the flagof the Union waving on the shore. 

Frank's regiment was not yet disembarked. The boys were still in therigging, following with eager eyes the movements of the boats. Anexciting incident added interest to the scene. Before the boats landed, abody of rebels in ambush, waiting to receive them, were betrayed by thegleam of their muskets. A shell dropped discreetly into theirhiding-place, by one of the gunboats, sent them scampering, and thetroops landed without opposition. 

"It's our turn now, boys!" cried Tucket. And they slipped from therigging, impatient to leap into the boats, and be put ashore. "I tell ye, won't it feel good to straighten out a fellow's legs once, on dry land!"

The men were generally of Seth's opinion; their long confinement onshipboard having become exceedingly monotonous and tiresome. 

Frank was with his company. They loaded the boats to the gunwales. Thewater was still smooth, save where it was broken into waves and whirlingeddies by the sweep of oars. The men shouted joyously, and waved theircaps. Frank stood in the bow, and swung his cap with the rest. Butlooking back across the shining wakes at the forsaken schooner, a feelingof sadness came over him--a feeling of regretful memory, as of oneleaving home. 

There she lay, motionless; hull and spars painted dark against the sunsetsky; her rigging, to the finest cordage, traced in exquisitely distinctlines upon that shining background--a picture of exceeding loveliness andpeace. 

As the boats swept down towards the shore, and the schooner seemed torecede into the flaming west, the network of cordage became black cobwebson the sky, then melted away and vanished altogether. At the same time, the water, which the boats had troubled, grew smooth again, reflectingthe sunset glow, with the sombre hull and ebon spars painted upon it, until Frank saw the spectre of a double ship suspended in a doubleheaven. 

And as the last view of the schooner was all beautiful, so his lastthoughts of her were all tender. He remembered no more against her thehardships of the voyage, the seasickness, the two gills of water a day. But that she had borne them faithfully through storms, that whether theyslept or waked she had not failed them, --this he remembered. And hissister's death, and all his sufferings and errors, and the peace of soulwhich had come to him at last, were associated now and henceforth, withhis memory of the ship swimming there in the illumined horizon. Only fora brief interval, like a wind that comes we know not whence, and goesagain we know not whither, touching us with invisible perfumed wings, these thoughts swept over the boy, and passed as quickly. And he turnedfrom gazing after the schooner to face the scenes before him. Nearer andnearer drew the boats to the island. Its woods and shores lay cool andtranquil in the evening light, and the troops there, half-hidden by thetall grass and the trees, were tinted with a gleam of romance. 

It was now fast growing dark. Clouds were gathering in the sky. Fromtheir edges the last hues of the sunset faded, the moon was hid, and aportentous gloom fell upon the waves. The cannon were still thundering atintervals. The shells flew screaming through the air, and fell burstingon the fort or in the woods. It was now so dark that the flash of theguns had become lurid and sharp, and the meteoric course of theprojectiles could be traced by their fiery wake. 

Amid this scene the boats entered the cove, and as the prows struck, orbefore, the excited soldiers leaped out, regardless of mud and water. 

"Shouldn't wonder if somebody got a wet foot, " said Tucket, in the midstof the plunging and plashing--himself in up to his hips. "'A horse! ahorse! my kingdom for a horse!' Here, Manly, take a grip of my coat tail. I'm longer legged than you. "

"I'm all right, " said Frank. "I've no gun to carry, and I can get along. "And he floundered on as fast as the deep, clinging ooze would permit. 

"This is what they call the sacred soil!" observed Harris. "Just thething, I should say, to breed rattle-snakes and rebels. "

"I swan to man!" chimed in Tucket's voice from a distance, --for his longlegs had given him an advantage in the general race, --"there ain't noshore after ye get to't. It's nothin' but salt ma'sh, all trod to pudd'n'by the fellers that have been in ahead of us. I thought we was to be_landed_; 'stead of that, we're swamped!"

The men pushed on, through marsh and swamp, sometimes in mire and waterknee-deep, and now in tall, rank grass up to their eyes; the darknessadding to their dismal prospect. 

"By Grimes!" mutters Jack Winch, "I don't think an island of this kind isworth taking. It's jest fit for secesh and niggers, and nobody else. "

"We must have the island, because it's a key to the coast, " says Frank. 

"I wouldn't talk war, if I couldn't carry a gun, " retorts Jack, madecross by the cold and wet. 

"Perhaps before we get through you'll be glad to lend me yours, " isFrank's pleasant response, as he hastens forward through grass whichwaves about his ears or lies trodden and tangled under foot. 

"The gunboats have stopped firing, " observes Atwater. 

In fact, both gunboats and battery were now silent, the former havingdrawn off for the night. 

 XXIV. 

 THE BIVOUAC. 

"There's a good time coming, and near, boys! there's a good time coming, and near!" sings out Tucket, holding his head high as he strides along, for he has caught a sight of fires beyond, and the company are nowemerging upon a tract of sandy barrens, thinly covered with pines. 

A road runs through the island. The advance of the column has alreadytaken possession of it. Skirmishers have been thrown forward into thewoods, and pickets are posted on the flanks. 

The troops prepare to bivouac for the night. Fires are kindled, and soonthe generous flames blaze up, illumining picturesque groups of men, andcasting a wild glare far into the depths of the great, black, silentwoods. The trees seem to stand out like startled giants, gazing at theunusual scene; and all above and around the frightened shadows lurk, inghostly boughs, behind dark trunks, among the deep grasses, and inhollows of the black morass. And the darkness of the night overhangs thearmy like a vast tent, sombrely flickering. 

A dry fence of cypress and pine rails is, without hesitation, appropriated to feed the fires of the bivouac; and the chilled, soakedsoldiers gather around them to get warm and dry. 

"My brave fellows, " says Captain Edney, passing among them, "do the bestyou can for yourselves for the night. Try to keep warm, and get what restand sleep you can. You will need all your strength to-morrow. "

"To-morrow, " observes Winch, with a swaggering, braggart air, "we'regoing to give the rebels the almightiest thrashing they've had yet! Towade in their blood as deep as I've waded to-night in this mud and water, that's what'll just suit me!"

"The less blood the better, boys, " says Captain Edney. "But we must beprepared to shed our own to the last drop, if need be, for we're bound tosweep this island of every traitor to his country, before we leave it. Make up your minds to that, boys!"

There is that in his tone which promises something besides child's playon the morrow. He is calm, serious, spirited, resolute; and the hearts ofhis men are fired by his words. 

The troops are full of jest and merriment as they kick off their shoes, and empty the water out of them, squeeze their dripping trousers, and, lying on the ground, toast their steaming legs by the fires. 

"I say, le's have a gallus old time to-night, to pay for our ducking, "suggests Jack Winch. "I don't want to sleep. "

"You ought to be off in the swamps, on picket duty, then, " says Harris. "Let them sleep that have a chance. For my part, I'm going to take thecaptain's advice. There's no knowing what sounds will wake us up, or howearly. "

"The sounds of muskets, I hope; and the earlier the better, " says thevaliant Jack. "Dang that shoe! I believe I've roasted it! Bah! look atAbe there, diving into his Testament, sure's you live. "

And Winch, perceiving that Atwater paid no attention to the sneer, flunghis shoe at him. The soldier was reading by the light of the flames, whenthe missile came, striking the book from his hands. 

"Shame, shame!" cried Frank, indignantly. "Jack Winch, that is too mean. "

"O, you go to"----France, --only Jack used a worse word, --"with that redrag on your arm! I don't have any thing to say to non-combatants. "

Frank might not have been able to stifle his indignation but for thegrave example of Atwater, who gave no more heed to Jack's shoe than hehad given to his base taunt, but, silently gathering up his book again, brushed the sand from it, found his place, and resumed his reading, ascomposedly as if nothing had happened. Neither did Frank say any thing. But Ellis, near whom the shoe had fallen, tossed it back with a threat toconsign it to the fire if it came that way again. 

"Wonder if my pocket-book got wet any, " said Harris, taking out his moneyand examining it. 

"O, you feel mighty proud of your winnings!" said Jack, who seemed benton picking a quarrel with some one. 

"Yes, I do, " said Harris. "I'm just so proud of it as this, "--reachingsomething towards the drummer boy. "Here, Frank, is all the money, Ibelieve, that I've won off you. We're going into a fight to-morrow, andnobody knows how we shall come out of it. I want to stand right withevery body, if I can. "

Frank was too much astonished to accept the money. He seemed to thinkthere was some joke in it. 

"I'm in earnest, " insisted Harris. "The truth is, I've been ashamed ofwinning your money, ever since. You didn't mean it, but you've acted in away to _make_ me ashamed. "

"I have! How?" Frank was more amazed than ever. 

"Because you gave over play, though you had a chance to try again, andacted as if you had got above such foolish things. It's time we all gotabove them. You're a good-hearted fellow, Frank, --you've shown that, --andnobody shall say I've robbed you. "

Frank took the money with a heart too full for thanks. He thought Harrisa fellow of unexampled generosity, never considering how much his ownexample had had to do with bringing about this most gratifying result. 

Atwater stopped reading, and looked over his book at Harris with a smileof pleasure and approval clear as daybreak. But the silent man did notspeak. 

"Well! the idea of a battle makes some folks awful pious all at once!"was Winch's comment. 

Nobody heeded him. As for Frank, with triumph in his heart and money inhis fist, he ran barefoot to where Seth Tucket lay sprawled before theblazing rails, feeling of his stockings, to see if they were dry enoughto put on. 

"Hello, young chap! how goes it? 'Stranger what dost thou require? Rest, and a guide, and food and fire. ' Get down here and have a toasting. Itcomes cheap. "

Frank sat down, and began counting the money. 

"What's all that?" demanded Seth. 

"All I owe you, and a little to spare!" cried Frank, elated. 

"Sho, ye don't say! See here, Frank! I never meant you should troubleyourself about that. I'm all right, money or no money. I'm an independentsort of nabob--don't need the vile stuff. 'Kings may be great, but Sethis glorious, o'er all the ills of life victorious!' So put it away, andkeep it, Frank. "

But when the drummer boy told him how he had come by the money, and thatit was his wish to settle his accounts before the battle, Tucket screwedup his face with a resigned expression, and received back the loan. 

A great weight was now lifted from Frank's mind. The vexing problem, howhe was to retain the watch and yet satisfy Seth's rightful claims, wasthus happily solved. He could have danced for joy, barefooted, in thegrassy sand. And he yearned more than ever now to see Mr. Sinjin, andmake up with him. 

A few rods off, in the rear of the soldiers' bivouacs, the old drummercould be seen, sitting with a group of officers around a fire of theirown. His stockings were hung upon the end of a rail, and he was busyroasting a piece of pork on the end of a stick, held out at arm's lengthto the fire. Frank saw that it was no time to speak with him then; so hereturned to his place, and sat down to put on his shoes and join thosewho had not yet been to supper, over their rations. 

 XXV. 

 ATWATER. 

As the evening wore on, Atwater was observed sitting apart from the rest, unusually silent and grave even for him; gazing at the fire, with thebook he had been reading closed and folded thoughtfully between hishands. 

Now Frank, following his example, had lately formed the resolution toread a little in the Testament every night, --"if only for his mother'ssake. " But to-night his Testament was in his knapsack, and his knapsackwas on board the schooner. 

"I'll borrow Atwater's, " he thought; and with this purpose he approachedthe tall private. 

"Sit down here, Frank, " said Atwater, with a serious smile. "I want totalk with you. "

It was so extraordinary for the phlegmatic Abe to express a wish to talkwith any body, that Frank almost felt awed by the summons. Somethingwithin him said that a communication of no trivial import was coming. Sohe sat down. And the tongue of the taciturn was that night, for once inhis life, strangely loosened. 

"I can't say it to the rest, Frank; I don't know why. But I feel as if Icould say it to you. "

"Do, " said Frank, thrilling with sympathy to the soldier's mysteriousemotion. "What is it, Abe?"

For a minute Atwater sat gazing, gazing--not at the fire. Then he liftedfrom the book, which he held so tenderly, his right hand, and laid itupon Frank's. And he turned to the boy with a smile. 

"I've liked you from the first, Frank. Did you know it?"

"If you have, I don't know why, " said Frank, deeply touched. 

"Nor do I, " said the private. "Some we like, and some we don't, withoutthe reason for it appearing altogether clear. I liked you even when youdidn't please me very well. "

"You mean when----" began Frank, stammeringly. 

"Yes, you know when. It used to hurt me to see and hear you--but that ispast. "

"I hope so, " said Frank, from his heart. 

"Yes. And I like you better than ever now. And do you know, Frank, Idon't think I could say to you what I am going to, if you hadn't been introuble yourself, lately? That makes me feel I can come near you. "

"O! are you in trouble, Abe?"

"Yes, "--with another mild, serious smile. "Not just such trouble as youwere in, though. It is nothing on my own account. It is on _hers_. " Andthe soldier's voice sunk, as it always did, when he alluded to his wife. 

"You have heard from her?" asked Frank, with sympathizing interest. 

"Nothing but good news; nothing but good news, " said Atwater, pressingthe pocket where his letters were. "I wish you could know that girl'sheart. I am just beginning to know it. She has blessed me! She is asimple creature--not so smart as some; but she has, what is better thanall that, a heart, Frank!"

Frank, not knowing what else to say, answered earnestly, that he was sureof it. 

"She has brought me to know this book, " the soldier continued, hisfeatures tremblingly alive with emotion. "I never looked into it muchbefore. I never thought much about it--whether it was true or not. Butwhether it is true or not, there is something in it that reaches mehere, "--laying his hand on his heart, --"something that sinks into me. Ican't tell how. It gives me comfort. "

Frank, still not knowing how to reply, murmured that he was glad to hearit. 

"Now, this is what I have been wanting to say to somebody, " Abram wenton, in a calm but suppressed voice. "I am going into battle to-morrow. Don't think I am afraid. I have no fear. But of one thing I am tolerablycertain. I shall not come out of that fight unhurt. "

The smile which accompanied these words, quite as much as the wordsthemselves, alarmed Frank. 

"Don't say that!" he entreated. "You are a little low-spirited, Abe;that's it. "

"O, no! I am not low-spirited in the least. My country demandssacrifices. I, for one, am willing to die. " This was said with singularcalmness and cheerfulness. But the soldier's voice failed him, as headded, "It is only when I think of her----"

Frank, powerfully wrought upon, endeavored in vain to dissuade his friendfrom indulging in such sad presentiments. 

"Well, we will hope that they are false, " said Atwater, but with a lookthat betrayed how thoroughly he was convinced of their truth. "If I gothrough safely, then we can laugh at them afterwards. But much may happenin these coming twenty-four hours. Now, I am sitting here with you, talking by these fires that light up the woods so. To-morrow night, thiswhich you call me, "--the soldier smilingly designated his body, --"may bestretched upon this same earth, and you may talk in vain--it cannotanswer you. "

"We don't know, --that's true, " Frank agreed. "But I hope for the best. "

"And that may be the best--for me. God knows. And for her, too, --though Idread the stroke for her! This is what I want you to do for me, Frank. IfI fall, --_if_ I fall, you know, --you will write to her. Send back to hermy last words, with the book she gave me, and her letters. You will findthem all in this pocket, here. Will you?"

Frank could not refrain from tears, as he made the promise. 

"That is all, " said Atwater, cheerfully. "Now, my mind is easier. Now, whatever comes, I am ready. Stay with me, if you like, and we will talkof something else. Or shall we read a little together?"

"I'd like to read a little, " said Frank. 

And he opened the book to these words:--

"'Fear not them which kill the body, but are not able to kill thesoul. .. . Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? and one of them shallnot fall to the ground without your Father. But the very hairs of yourhead are all numbered. Fear not, therefore; ye are of more value thanmany sparrows. '"

"How came you to read there?" said Atwater with a smile. 

"I don't know, " said Frank. "But it seems meant for you--don't it?"

"Yes, and it somehow makes me happy. Go on. "

And Frank read, --

"'Think not I am come to send peace on earth: I came not to send peace, but a sword. '"

"That is for both of us, for all of us, for all our people to-day, " saidAtwater. "I believe it is the struggle of Satan against Christ that hasbrought on this war. To attempt to build up a nation on humanslavery--that is Satan. And I believe, wicked as we are at the north too, that the principle of freedom we are fighting for is the opposite ofSatan. And whoever brings that into the world, brings a war that willnever cease until the right triumphs, and the wrong ceases forever. "

Frank was astonished. He had never suspected that in this stiff, reservedsoldier there dwelt the spirit which, when their tongues are loosed, makes men eloquent. 

Atwater had roused up, and spoken with earnestness. But his glow passed, and he said quietly, --

"Go on. "

"'A man's foes shall be they of his own household. '"

There Frank stopped again, this time of his own accord. The words struckhim with peculiar force. 

"That is true too, " said Abram; "of the nation, for a nation is ahousehold; and of many, many families. "

Frank studied the words a moment, and, after a struggle with hisfeelings, said in a hushed voice, --

"Did you know, Abe, I've a brother in the rebel army?"

"I did not know. I have heard you have one somewhere in the south. "

"Yes, you have heard Jack twit me about my secesh brother. And I havebeen obliged to own he was a--traitor. And since I left home my folkshave had a letter from him, in which he wrote that he was on the point ofjoining the confederate army, and that we would not probably hear fromhim again. So I suppose he is fighting against us somewhere. "

"Not here, I hope, " said Atwater. 

"As well here as any where, " said Frank. "I always loved my brother. Ilove him still. But, as you say, wicked as we are, Christ is in ourcause, and----" Frank read, --

"'He that loveth father or mother more than me, is not worthy of me; andhe that loveth son or daughter more than me, is not worthy of me. '"

"And I, " said the boy, lifting up his face with a patriotic, even areligious, fervor in it, "I love my country, I love the cause of rightand freedom, better than I love my brother!"

"With that true of us, with that love in our hearts, " said Atwater, "wecan dare to fight, and whatever the result, I believe it will be wellwith us. See what the book says. "

And Frank read on. 

"'He that findeth his life shall lose it; and he that looseth his lifefor my sake shall find it. '"

"That is enough, " said Atwater. "I can bind that sentence like an armoraround my heart. "

"What does it mean?"

"It means, I think, that though wickedness triumphs, it triumphs to itsown confusion, for it has no immortal life. But even the death of a saintis victory. "

After that the soldier seemed inclined to relapse into revery. Frankthought he did not wish to talk any more; so he gave him back the book. Abram put it in his pocket, and took the boy's hand. 

"Good night, Frank, " he smilingly said. "We shall see each other in themorning. "

"Good night, Abe. "

Frank left him. And Atwater, stretching himself upon the ground, put hisarm beneath his head, and with the fire-light on his placid countenance, dismissed all worldly care from his mind, and slept peacefully. 

 XXVI. 

 OLD SINJIN. 

At the foot of a pine tree, on a pillow of boughs, lies the olddrum-major. The blaze of the bivouac fire covers him with its glow aswith a mantle. But his face looks haggard and care-worn, and his grizzledmustache has a cynical curl even in sleep. 

At a sound he starts, opening wide those watchful gray eyes an instant, then closing them quickly. It is a footstep approaching. 

Stealthily it comes, and passes by his side. Then silence--broken only bythe crackle and roar of the flames. At length one eye of the sleeperopens a little, and peeps; and as it peeps, it sees, sitting on the pineroots, in the broad fire-light, with his cap before his eyes shadingthem, and his eyes fixed wistfully on him, Frank, the drummer boy. 

The eye that opened a little and peeped, closes again. The old fellowbegins to snore. 

"Poor old man!" says the boy to himself; "how tired he looks. And tothink I have done so much to hurt his feelings! I wish I could tell himhow sorry I am; but I must not wake him. "

Again the ambushed eye opens, and the little corner of the sleeper's soulthat happens to be _not_ asleep, reconnoitres. Frank is sitting therestill, faithfully watching. A stream of electric fire tingles in thatmisanthropic breast, at the sight. But still the old man snores. 

"I may as well lie down and go to sleep too, " says Frank. And, verysoftly, so as not to awaken Mr. Sinjin, he lays himself down by his side, puts his cheek on the pillow of boughs, and keeps perfectly still. 

The heart of the veteran burns within him, but he makes no sign. Andnow--hark! Patter, patter, patter. It is beginning to rain. 

This, then, is what the dark canopy meant, hanging so luridly over thefire-lit forest. Patter, patter; faster, faster; dripping through thetrees, hissing in the fire, capering like fairies on the ground, comesthe midnight rain. 

Sinjin thinks it about time to wake. But Frank is stirring; so heconcludes to sleep a little longer, and see what he will do. 

Frank takes some pine boughs, and lays them carefully over the old man, to shelter him from the rain. Hotter and hotter glows the old heartbeneath; melt it must soon. 

"There!" says Frank in a whisper; "don't tell him I did it!"

He is going. Old Sinjin can sleep--or pretend to sleep--no more. 

"Hello! Who's there?"--awaking with amazing suddenness. --"That you, Frank? What are you here for at this time of night?"

"O, I'm a privileged character. They let me go around the camp about as Ilike, you know. "

"How long has it been raining? And how came all this rubbish heaped overme?"

The pattering becomes a rushing in the tree-tops, a wild sibilation as ofserpents in the fire, and a steady rattling and whizzing in the swamps. 

"Well, well! this won't do, boy! Come with me!"

They run to the shelter of a huge leaning trunk and crouch beneath it. 

"You're not so used to these things as I am, " says the old man, shieldingthe boy with his arms. 

"Let me bring some boughs to throw over you!" cries Frank. 

"No--sit still! You have heaped boughs enough on me for one night!"

"Were you--awake?"

"One eye was a little awake. "

"And you saw!"

"I saw all you did, my boy!"

Frank knows not whether to be happy or ashamed. Neither speaks. The stormis roaring in the trees. The water drips and the spray sifts upon them, At length Frank says, --

"I wanted to tell you I have the watch again, and I know who gave it tome, and I think he is one of the best old men in the world. And I wantedto say that I am very sorry for every thing I have said and done that waswrong. "

The bosom of the lonely old man heaves as he answers, "Don't, my boy!don't say you are sorry--I can't stand that!" And he hugs the boy close. 

"But why didn't you want me to know you gave the watch?"

"Because I am such a foolish old fellow, and have forgotten how to treata friend. For twenty years and more I have not known what it was to havea living soul care for me. "

"O, it must be so hard for you to be alone so! Have you no sisters?"

"Sisters! I would tell you of one so proud, and rich, and in fashion, that her great house has no room in it for a rusty old brother like me!"

Frank thought of his own sisters--of Hattie, who was gone, and of Helen, who, though she should wed a prince, would never, he was sure, shut herdoors against him; and he was filled with pity for the poor old man. 

"But you must have had friends?"

"I had one, who was a fast friend enough when he was poor and I had alittle property. But I became responsible for his debts, which he left meto pay; then I was poor, whilst he grew rich and hated me!"

"Hated you?"

"Of course! We may forgive those who wrong us, but not those we havewronged. He never forgave me for having been robbed by him!" And the oldman's voice grew hard and ironical at the recollection. 

"Why didn't you ever get married?" asked Frank. "You have one of thebest, biggest hearts in the world, and you ought to have loved somebodywith it. Didn't you ever?"

The spirit of the old man shrank sensitively within him for a moment. Then he said to himself, "He will know of it some day, and I may as welltell him. " For the heart that had been frozen for years this youth hadhad power to thaw. 

"I never loved--any woman--well enough to marry her. But there was once alittle girl that I had known from her cradle--for I was many years olderthan she. I used to pet her, and tell her stories, and sing and play toher, until I became more bound up in her than was very wise for one whowas not her father or her brother. Well, she got to be of your age, andstill ran to kiss me when I came, and never guessed what was growing upin my heart and taking possession of me, for it was stronger than I, andstronger than all the world. I saw her fast becoming a woman, and forgotthat I was at the same time fast becoming an old man. And one day I askedher to marry me. I did not mean then, but in a few years. But she did notstop to hear my explanations. She sprang from me with a scream. And thatended it. She could never be to me again the innocent pet she had been, and as for being what I wished--I saw at once how absurd the proposalwas! I saw that from that time she could regard me only with astonishmentand laughter. I was always extremely sensitive, and this affair, with theother I have told you of, proved too much for me. I fled from society. Ienlisted as a drummer, and I suppose I shall never be any thing but adrummer now. And this, my boy, is the reason I was never married. "

Drearily sounded the old man's voice as he closed. 

"It is all so sad!" said Frank. "But ought a man to do so, because he hasbeen once or twice deceived? I have heard my mother say that as we are toothers, so they will be to us. If we are generous, that excites them tobe generous; and love calls out love. "

"Your mother says that?" replied Mr. Sinjin in a low voice. "Ah, and shesays true! If one is proud and reserved, he will find the world proud andreserved: that I know! Because two or three failed me, I distrusted everybody, and was repaid with distrust. O my boy, do not do so! Never letyour soul be chilled by any disappointment, if you would not become asolitary and neglected old man. Better trust a thousand times, and bedeceived as often, better love a thousand times in vain, than shut upyour heart in suspicion and scorn. Your mother is right, Frank, --in that, as in every thing else, she is perfectly right!"

"It isn't too late yet--is it?--to have friends such as you like. I amsure you can if you will, " said Frank. 

"You have almost made me think so, " answered the old drummer. "You havebrought back to my heart more of its youth and freshness than I had feltfor years. I want you to know that, my boy. "

Frank did not understand how it could be, and the old man did not informhim. It was now very late. The rain poured dismally. Frank lay nestled inthe old man's bosom, like a child. For a long time he did not speak. Thenthe veteran bent forward so that he could look in his face. The boy wasfast asleep. 

"How much he looks like his mother! Her brow, her mouth! God bless thelad, God bless him!"

And the old man sat and watched whilst the drummer boy slept. 

 XXVII. 

 THE SKIRMISH. 

The night and the storm passed, and day dawned on Roanoke Island. 

No reveillé roused up the soldiers. Silently from their drenched, coldbeds, they arose and prepared for the rough day's work before them. 

The morning was chill and wet, the rain still dripping from the trees. Far in the cypress swamps the lone birds piped their matin songs--theonly sounds in those dim solitudes, so soon to be filled with the roar ofbattle. 

Ten thousand men had been landed from the fleet; and now ten thousandhearts were beating high in anticipation of the conflict. 

The line of advance lay along the road, which run in a northerlydirection through the centre of the island. Across this road the rebelshad erected their most formidable battery, with seemingly impenetrableswamps on either side, an ample space cleared for the play of their gunsin front, and felled trees all around. 

General Foster's brigade took the advance, having with it a battery oftwelve-pounders from the fleet, to operate on the enemy's front. GeneralReno followed, with orders to penetrate on the left the frightful lagoonsand thickets which protected the enemy's flank. A third column, underGeneral Parke, brought up the rear. 

General Foster rode forward with his staff into the woods, and made areconnoissance. The line of pickets opened to let the brigade passthrough. Not a drum was beat. Slowly, in silence, occasionally halting, regiment succeeded regiment, in perfect order, with heavy muffled tramp. 

Along the forest road they passed, the men laughing and joking in highspirits, as if marching to a parade. The still, beautiful light of theinnocent morning silvered the trees. The glistering branches archedabove; the glistening stream of steel flowed beneath. Wreaths of vines, beards of moss, trailed their long fringes and graceful drapery from theboughs. The breeze shook down large shining drops, and every bush asoldier touched threw off its dancing shower. 

"'And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves, dewy with nature'stear-drops, as they pass, '" remarked Seth Tucket. 

"Come, none o' your solemncholy poetry to-day, " said Jack Winch. "I neverfelt so jolly in my life. There's only one kind of poetry I want to hear, and that's the pouring of our volleys into the rebels. "

"The pouring of their volleys into us ain't quite so desirable, Isuppose, " said Harris. 

"There wouldn't be much fun without some danger, " said Jack. 

"If that's fun, I guess Winch 'll have fun enough before we're throughwith this job, " remarked Ellis. 

"What a long road it is!" cried Jack, impatiently. 

"We'll come to a short turn in it pretty soon, " said Atwater, significantly. 

"Well, Abe has spoken!" said Jack. "His mouth has been shut so tight allalong, I didn't think 'twould open till the time comes for him to cryquarter. "

"Atwater means to let his gun speak for him to-day, " said Harris. 

"What do we go so slow for? Why don't we hurry on?" said Jack. "I want toget at the rebels some time this week. I don't believe they----"

He was going to say that he didn't believe they would wait to fire ashot. But even as he spoke the confutation of his opinion resounded inthe woods. Crack--crack--crack--went the rebel muskets; then followed avolley from the troops in advance. 

"Why didn't you finish your sentence, Jack?" said Harris, with a smile. 

"They're at it!" whispered Jack, in a changed voice. 

"A little skirmishing, " said Atwater, quietly. 

Crack, crack, again; and--_sing!_--came a bullet over the heads of themen, cutting the leaves as it passed. 

"Too high, " laughed Gray, coolly. 

"Halt!" come the command, which John Winch, for one, obeyed with amazingpromptness. 

"Hallo, Jack!" said Ellis; "who taught you to halt before the word isgiven?"

"Are they going to keep us standing here all day?" said Jack, presently. 

"He's as wide awake now to be on the move as he was to stop, " laughedHarris. 

"Well, " said Jack, nervously, "who likes to stand still and be shot at?"

"There's no shooting at us, " replied Harris. "When it comes to that, we'll see the fun you talk about. "

Fun! Jack's countenance looked like any thing but fun just then. 

He gained some confidence by observing the officers coolly giving theirorders, and the men coolly executing them, as if nothing of importancehad happened, or was expected to happen. 

Captain Edney deployed his company, pressing forward into the swamp. Bushes and fallen logs impeded their progress; the mud and water were inplaces leg-deep; and the men were permitted to pick their way as bestthey could. Suddenly out of a thicket a bullet came whizzing. Another andanother followed. One tore the bark from a tree close by Captain Edney'shead. 

"Keep cool, boys!" he said; "and aim low. "

He then gave the order, "Commence firing!" and the front rank men, halting, poured their volley into the thicket--their first shot at theenemy. Whilst they were reloading, the second rank advanced and deliveredtheir fire. 

"Don't waste a shot, my brave fellows!" cried the captain. "Fire whereveryou see signs of a rebel. Always aim at _something_. "

This last order was a very useful one; for many, in the excitement ofcoming for the first time under fire, were inclined to let off theirpieces at random in the air; and the deliberation required to take aim, if only at a bush behind which a rebel might be concealed, had anexcellent effect in quieting the nerves. 

Yet some needed no such instruction. Atwater was observed to load andfire with as steady a hand and as serene a countenance as if he had beenpractising at a target. Others were equally calm and determined. Therewere some, however, even of the brave, who, from constitutionalexcitability, and not from any cowardice of spirit, exhibited symptoms ofnervousness. Their cheeks paled and their hands shook. But, the momentarytremor past, these men become perhaps the most resolute and efficient ofall. 

Such a one was Frank; who, though in the rear of the regiment, with theambulance corps, felt his heart beat so wildly at the first whiz of abullet over his head, that he was afraid he was going to be afraid. 

Was Jack Winch another of the sort? It was pitiful to see him attempt toload his piece. He never knew how it happened, but, instead of acartridge, he got hold of the tompion, --called by the boys the"tompin, "--used to stop the muzzle of the gun and protect it frommoisture, and was actually proceeding to ram it down the barrel before hediscovered his mistake!

"Take a cartridge, Winch!" said Captain Edney, who was coolly noting theconduct of his men. 

So Jack, throwing away the stopper, took a cartridge. But his hand shook_around_ the muzzle of the gun so that it was some time before he couldinsert the charge. He had already dodged behind a tree, the men beingallowed to shelter themselves when they could. 

"Dry ground is scarce as hen's teeth!" remarked Seth Tucket, droll asever, looking for a good place to stand while he was loading. 

"Fun, ain't it?" said Ned Ellis, who had sought cover by the same treewith Winch. 

He stood at Jack's left hand, and a little behind him. Jack, too muchagitated to respond to the unseasonable jest, threw up the barrel of hispiece, in order to prime, when a bullet came, from nobody knew where, aslant, and put an end to jesting for the present. 

Jack felt a benumbing shock, and dropped his gun, the stock of which hadbeen shivered in his grasp. At the same instant Ellis dropped his gunalso, and threw out his hands wildly, exclaiming, --

"I am shot!"

And both fell to the ground together. 

"That's what ye call two birds with one stun!" said Tucket, a flash offerocity kindling his face as he saw his comrades fall. "Pay 'em forthat, boys! Pay 'em for that!"

And hearing the order to charge the thicket, he went forward with a yell, taking strides that would have done credit to a moose in his own nativewoods of Maine. 

Ellis had by this time got upon his feet again. But Jack lay still, hisneck bathed in blood. 

 XXVIII. 

 JACK WINCH'S CATASTROPHE. 

Several companies were by this time engaged driving in the rebelskirmishers, and three or four men had been disabled. 

It was impracticable to take the stretchers, or litters for the wounded, into such a wilderness of bogs and thickets; and accordingly the mostforward and courageous of the carriers leaped into the swamps withoutthem. 

As soon as Frank heard that some of his company had been wounded, allsense of danger to himself was forgotten, and no remonstrance from hisfriend the drum-major could prevent his rushing in to assist in bringingthem off. 

Finding that the boy, whose welfare was so precious to him, could not berestrained, Mr. Sinjin plunged in with him, and kept at his side, scrambling through mud and brush and water, and over logs and roots, inthe direction of the firing. 

They had not gone far when they met a wounded soldier coming out. Hisright hand hung mangled and ghastly and bleeding at his side. A slug froma rifle musket had ploughed it through, nearly severing the fingers fromthe wrist. 

"Ellis!" cried Frank--"you hurt?"

Ned swung the disabled and red-dripping member up to view, with a sorrysmile. 

"Not so bad as might be!" he said, with a rather faint show of gayety. "Jack has got it worse. "

"Jack who?"--for there were several Jacks in the company. 

"Winch, " said Ellis, whilst the old drummer was binding up his hand tostop the blood. 

"Is he killed?" asked Frank, with a strange feeling--almost of remorse, remembering his late bitter and vindictive thoughts towards John. 

"I don't know. We were both hit by the same ball, I believe. It must havepassed through his neck. It came from one side, and we tumbled bothtogether. What I tumbled for, I don't know. It didn't take me long topick myself up again!"

"And Jack?"

"There he lies, with blood all over his face. "

"And nobody caring for him?"

"The boys have something else to think of!" said Ellis, with a pallidsmile. 

Mr. Sinjin, having tied up the wound, directed him how to find thesurgeon. And Ellis, in return, pointed out the best way to get at Jack. 

The company had advanced, driving the rebel skirmishers before them, andleaving Winch where he had fallen. Frank and his companion soon reachedthe spot. There lay the hapless youth under the roots of the tree, theleft side of his face and neck all covered with gore. 

"Jack!" cried Frank, stooping by his side, and lifting his arm. 

No answer. The arm fell heavily again as he released it. 

"Dead!" said the boy, a sudden calmness coming over him. "We may as wellleave him where he is, and look for others. "

"Not dead yet, " said the more experienced Sinjin, feeling Jack's heart, which was beating still. In corroboration of which statement Winchuttered something between a gasp and a groan, and rolled up horribleeyes. 

Frank was standing, and the old man was trying to find Winch's wound, inorder to prevent his bleeding to death while they were carrying him out, when the report of a rifle sounded, seemingly quite near, and a bulletpassed with a swift vehement buzz close by their ears. At the instantFrank felt something like a quick tap or jerk on his arm. He looked, andsaw that the strip of red flannel, which betokened the service he wasengaged in, and which should have rendered his person sacred from anyintentional harm, had been shot away. A hole had been torn in his sleevealso, but his flesh was untouched. 

The old drummer looked up quickly. 

"Are you hurt?"

"No, " said Frank, feeling of his arm while he looked around to discoverwhere the shot came from. "It must have been a spent ball; for, see! itfell there in the water!"--pointing at a pool behind them, the surface ofwhich was still rippling with the plunge of the shot. 

Winch gave another groan. 

"The wound must be an internal one, " said Sinjin, "for he is not bleedingmuch now. "

Frank assisted to lift him, and together they bore him back towards theroad. It was a difficult task. Frank had neither the stature nor thestrength of a man; but he made up in energy and good will what he lackedin force. Very carefully, very tenderly, through bogs and throughthickets, they carried the helpless, heavy weight of the blood-stainedvolunteer. 

"Frank! is it you?" murmured Winch, faintly. 

"Yes, Jack!" panted the boy, out of breath with exertion. 

"Am I killed?" articulated Jack. 

"O, no!" said Frank. "You've got a bullet in you somewhere; but I guessthe surgeon will soon have it out, and you'll be all right again. "

"O!" groaned Jack. 

Just then there came another rifle-crack, not quite so near as before, and another bullet came with its angry buzz. It cut a twig just over Mr. Sinjin's head, and grazed a cypress tree farther on, at a pointconsiderably lower, and with a downward slant, as the mark revealed. 

"Another spent ball, " said Frank. 

But the old drummer shook his head. "Those are no spent balls. Somemurderous rebel is aiming at us. "

"How can that be?"

"I don't know. And our best way is not to stop to inquire, but to get outof this as soon as possible. "

"Frank!" groaned the burden they were bearing. 

"What, Jack?"

"Forgive me, Frank!"

"For what?" said Frank, cheerily. 

"For writing home lies about you. "

"They were not all lies, I'm sorry to say, Jack. But even if they were, Iforgive you from my very soul. "

Jack groaned, and said no more. Assistants now came to meet them, andFrank, who was almost exhausted with the fatigue of bringing his comradeso far, was relieved of the burden. The road was near, and Jack was soonlaid upon a stretcher. 

"Frank!" he gasped, rolling his eyes again, "don't leave me! For God'ssake, stay by me, Frank!"

So Frank kept by his side, while the men bore him along the road to atree, where the surgeon had hung up his red flag, and established hishospital. 

Ellis had just undergone the amputation of his mangled hand, without onceflinching under the surgeon's knife, and he remained on the spot toencourage Winch. 

"If I die, " began Jack, stirring himself more than he had been observedto do before. "Frank, do you hear me?"

"What is it, Jack?" asked the sympathizing boy. 

"If I die, don't let me be buried on this miserable island!"

"But you are not going to die, " said the surgeon, kindly, cutting awaythe clothes from his neck. 

Mr. Sinjin assisted, while Frank anxiously awaited the result of theexamination. The surgeon looked puzzled. There was blood, but not anyfresh blood--and no wound! Not so much as a scratch of the skin. 

Jack in the mean time was groaning dismally. 

"What are you making that noise for?" exclaimed the surgeon, sharply. "There isn't a hurt about you!"

"Ain't I shot?" cried Jack, starting up, as much astonished as any body;for he had really believed he was a dead man. "I was hit, I know! and Iswooned away. "

"You swooned from fright, then, " declared the indignant surgeon. "Takethe fellow away!"

Jack, however, gratified as he was to learn he was not killed, testilyinsisted that a bullet had passed through him, adducing the blood on hisface as a proof. 

Thereupon Ellis broke into a laugh. 

"It takes Jack to make capital out of a little borrowed blood. I knowsomething about that. When my hand was ploughed through, I slapped itagainst his face; and down he went, fainting dead away. " And, notwithstanding the ache of his wound and his weakness, and the scenes ofhorror thickening around, Ned leaned back against the tree, and laughedmerrily at what he called Jack's "awful big scare. "

Frank felt immensely relieved, at first, on learning that Jack was notkilled; then immensely amused; and, lastly, immensely disgusted. Heremembered the severe struggle it cost to bring him out of the swamp, therolled-up eyes, the lugubrious groans, and the faintly murmured dyingrequest to be forgiven. And in the revulsion of his feelings he could nothelp saying, "Yes, Jack, I forgive ye! and if you die, you shan't beburied on this miserable island. "

He was excited when he uttered this taunt, and he was sorry for itafterwards. Seeing the craven slink away, conscious of the scorn of everybody, he felt a touch of pity for him. 

"Jack, " said he, with friendly intent, "why don't you go back and wipeout this disgrace? _I_ would. "

"Because, " snarled Jack, goaded by his own shame and the generalcontempt, "I'm hurt, I tell ye! _internally_, I s'pose, "--for he hadheard Mr. Sinjin use the word, and thought it a good one to suit hiscase. And he lay down wretchedly by the roadside, and counterfeitedanguish, while the fresh troops marched by to the battle. 

A fiery impulse seized the drummer boy. He glanced at his torn sleeve, from which the badge had been shot away, and thought there was somethingbesides accident in what appeared so much like an omen. If it meant anything, was it not that his place was elsewhere than in the ambulancecorps?

He turned to Mr. Sinjin, and asked to be excused from going with thestretcher. And Mr. Sinjin, who prized the boy's safety too highly to wishto see him go again under fire, was only too glad to excuse him, neveronce suspecting what wild purpose was in his heart. 

The battle was now fairly begun. The rebel battery had opened. Thecontinual rattle of musketry and the thunder of heavy cannon shook theisland. The regiments in line in front of the cleared space before thebattery, returned the fire with energy, and the marine howitzers alsoresponded. Soon a shell from the enemy's work came flying through thewoods with a hum, which increased to a howl, and burst with a startlingexplosion within a few rods of the hospital. Nobody was hurt; but theincident had a very marked effect on Jack Winch. He got better at once, and moved to the rear with an alacrity surprisingly in contrast with hisrecent helplessness. 

 XXIX. 

 HOW FRANK GOT NEWS OF HIS BROTHER. 

Frank was already moving off quite as rapidly, but in the oppositedirection. He plunged once more into the swamp, and returned to the spotwhere Jack had fallen. The battle was raging beyond; the troops hadpassed on; the ground was deserted. But there lay Winch's gun; with hiscartridge-box beside it. Near by was Ellis's piece, abandoned where ithad fallen. There, too, lay the red badge which had been shot fromFrank's arm. He picked it up, thinking his mother would like to have himpreserve it. 

Then he slipped on the cartridge-box, and took up Winch's gun; for thiswas the resolution which inspired him--to assume the poltroon's place inthe company, and by his own conduct to atone for the disgrace he hadbrought upon it. 

But the gun-stock was, as has been said, shattered; and Frank could nothave the satisfaction of revenging himself and his comrades for Winch'scowardice with Winch's own gun. So he threw it down, and took up Ellis's, which he found ready loaded and primed. 

While he was examining the piece, he remembered the shots which he hadtaken for spent balls, and bethought him to look around the woods in thedirection from which they had come. Raising his eyes above theundergrowth, he beheld a singular phenomenon. 

At first, he thought it was a wild animal--a coon, or a wildcat, comingdown a tree. Then there were two wildcats, descending together, orpreparing to descend. Then the wildcats became two human legs claspedaround the trunk, and two human arms appeared enjoying an equally closehug above them. The body to which these visible members appertained wasitself invisible, being on the farther side of the trunk. 

"That's the chap that was shooting at us!" was Frank's instantaneousconviction. 

And now he could plainly discern an object slung across the man's back, as his movements swung it around a little to one side. It was thesharpshooter's rifle. 

Frank was so excited that he felt himself trembling--not with fear, butwith the very ardor of his ambition. 

"Since he has had two shots at me, why shouldn't I have as much as one athim?"

To disable and bring in the rebel who had shot the badge from hisarm--what a triumph!

But he was not in a good position for an effective shot, even if he couldhave made up his mind to fire at a person who, though without doubt anenemy, was not at the moment defending himself. It seemed, after all, toodreadful a thing deliberately to kill a man. 

Frank's excitement did not embarrass his faculties in the least, but onlyrendered them all the more keenly alive and vigilant. It took him but amoment to decide what to do. Through the swamp he ran with a lightnessand ability of which in calmer moments he would have been scarcelycapable. The exigency of the occasion inspired him. Such leaps he tookover miry places! so safely and swiftly be ran the length of an old mossylog! so nimbly he avoided the undergrowth! and so suddenly he arrived atlast at the tree the rebel was descending!

For he was a rebel indeed. Frank knew that by his gray uniform and shortjacket. He had been perched in the thick top of a tall pine to pick offour men during the skirmish. It was he who had taken the bark from thetree near Captain Edney's head. It was he who had basely thought toassassinate those who were carrying away the wounded. And now, theadvancing troops having passed him, he was taking advantage of thesolitary situation to slip down the trunk and make his escape through thewoods. 

Unfortunately for him, he could not go up and down trees like a squirrel. He proceeded _hugging_ his way so slowly and laboriously that Frankreached the spot when he was still within a dozen feet of the ground. Hearing a noise, and looking down over his arm, and seeing Frank, hewould have jumped the remainder of the distance. But Frank was preparedfor that. 

"Stop, or I'll fire!"

Shrill and menacing rang the boy's determined tones through the soul ofthe treed rebel. He saw the gun pointed up at him; so he stopped. 

"What's wanting?" said he, gruffly. 

"I want you to throw down that rifle as quick as ever you can!" criedFrank. 

"What do you want of my rifle?"

"I've a curiosity to see what sort of a piece you use to shoot at mencarrying off the wounded. "

And the "grayback" (as the boys termed the rebels) could hear the ominousclick of the gun lock in Frank's hands. 

"Was it you I fired at?"

"Yes, it was; and I'm bound to put lead into you now, if you don't do asI tell you pretty quick!"

"I can't throw my gun down; I can't get it off, " remonstrated the man. 

"You never will come down from that tree alive, unless you do!" saidFrank. 

"Well, take the d----d thing then!" growled the man. And unclasping onearm from the tree, while he held on with the other and his two legs, heslipped the belt over his head, and dropped the gun to the ground. "If ithad been good for any thing, I reckon you wouldn't be here now, botheringme!" he added, significantly. 

"No doubt!" said Frank. "You are brave fellows, to shoot out of trees atmen carrying off the wounded. Wait! I'm not quite ready for you yet. "

And he stood under the tree, with his musket pointed upwards, readycocked, and with the point of the bayonet in rather ticklish proximity tothe most exposed and prominent part of the rebel's person. 

"Ye think I'm going to stick here all day?" growled the desperateclimber. 

"You'll stick there till you throw me down your revolver, " Frankresolutely informed him. 

"How do you know I've got a revolver?"

"I saw your hand make a motion at your pocket. You thought you'd try ashot at me. But you saw at the very next motion you'd be a dead man!"

"You mean to say you'd blow my brains out?"

"Yes, if your brains are where my gun is aimed, as I think the brains ofrebels must be, or they never would have seceded. "

Frank's gun, by the way, was aimed at the above mentioned very exposedand prominent part. 

"Grayback" grinned and growled. 

"Come, my young joker, I can't stand this!"

"You'll have to stand it till you throw down that revolver!"

"I'm slipping!"

"Then I'll give you something sharp to slip on!"

The man felt that he had really betrayed himself by making theinvoluntary movement towards his breast-pocket, which Frank had been tooshrewd not to notice. The cocked gun, and bayonet, and resolute youngface below, were inexorable. So he yielded. 

"Don't throw it towards me! Drop it the other side!" cried the waryFrank. 

The revolver was tossed down. Then Frank stepped back, and let the mandescend from his uncomfortable position. 

"Boy!" said the man, as soon as his feet were safe on the ground, and hecould turn to look at his captor, "I reckon you're a cute 'un! A Yankee, ain't ye?"

"Yes, and proud to own it!" said Frank. "Keep your distance!"--as the manmade a move to come nearer--"and don't you stoop to touch that gun!"

"Look here, " said the man, coaxingly, "you'd better let me go! I'm outof ammunition, and can't hurt any body. I'll give ye ten dollars if youwill. "

"In confederate shinplasters?"

The rebel laughed. "No, in Uncle Sam's gold. "

"You don't place a very high value on yourself, " said Frank. "You are toomodest. "

"Twenty dollars!"--jingling the money in his pocket. "Come, I'm agentleman at home, and I don't want to go north. Well, say thirtydollars. "

"If you hadn't said you were a gentleman, I might trade, " said Frank. "But a gentleman is worth more than you bid. You wouldn't insult a negroby offering that for him!"

"Fifty dollars, then! I see you are sharp at a bargain. And you shallkeep that revolver. "

"I intend to keep this, any way, " said Frank, picking it up. "And the gunthat shot at me, too, " slinging it on his back. 

The rebel, seeing his determination, rose in his bids at once to ahundred dollars. 

"Not for a hundred thousand!" said Frank, who was now ready to move hisprisoner. "You are going the way my bayonet points, and no other. March!"

The rebel marched accordingly. 

Frank followed at a distance of two or three paces, prepared at anymoment to use prompt measures in case his prisoner should attempt to turnupon him or make his escape. 

"How many of you fellows are hid around in these trees?" said Frank. 

"Not many just around here--lucky for you!" muttered the disconsolaterebel. 

"Is that your favorite way of fighting?"

"People fight any way they can when their soil is invaded. "

"What are holes cut in the pine trees for, --foot-holds for climbing?"

"Holes? them's turpentine boxes!" said the man, in some surprise atFrank's ignorance. "Didn't you ever see turpentine boxes before?"

"Never till last evening. Is that the way you get turpentine?"

"That's the way we get turpentine. The sap begins to run and fill theboxes along in March, and when they are full we dip it out with ladlesmade on purpose, and put it into barrels. "

"O, you needn't stop to explain!" cried Frank. "Push ahead!"

And the rebel pushed ahead. 

It was a moment of unspeakable satisfaction to the drummer boy when hehad brought his prisoner through all the difficulties of the way to theroad. There he had him safe. 

He was now in the midst of shocking and terrible scenes, but he heededthem not as much as he would have heeded the smallest accident to afellow-creature a few hours before. Already he seemed familiar withbattles and all their horrors. Men were hurrying by with medical stores. The wounded were passing, on stretchers, or in the arms of their friends, or limping painfully, ghastly, bleeding, but heroic still. They smiled asthey showed their frightful hurts. One poor fellow had had his arm tornoff by a cannon ball: the flesh hung in strings. Some lay by theroadside, faint from the loss of blood. And all the time the deadly, deafening tumult of the battle went on. 

To guard his prisoner securely was Frank's first thought. But greater, more absorbing even than that, was the wild wish to see the enemies ofhis country defeated, and to share in the glorious victory. 

"Frank Manly! what sort of a beast have you got there?" cried a soldier, returning from the action with a slight wound. 

Frank recognized a member of another company in the same regiment towhich he belonged. 

"I've got a sharpshooter that I've taken prisoner. " And he brieflyrelated his adventure, every word of which the rebel, who rather admiredhis youthful captor, voluntarily confirmed. 

"It's just as he tells you, " he said, assuming a candid, reckless air. "Iam well enough satisfied. If your men are equal to your boys, I shallhave plenty of company before night. "

"You think we shall have you all prisoners?" inquired Frank, eagerly. 

"This island, " replied the rebel, "is a perfect trap. I've known it fromthe beginning. You outnumber us two to one, and if the fight goes againstus, we've no possible chance of escape. We've five thousand men on theisland, and if we're whipped you'll make a pretty respectable bag. Butyou never can conquer us, "--he hastened to add, fearing lest he wasconceding too much. 

"Can't, eh?" laughed Frank. "Where's the last ditch?"

"Never mind about that, " said the prisoner, with a peculiar grin. 

By this time several other stragglers had gathered around them, eager tohear the story of the drummer boy's exploit. 

The rebel had looked curiously at his youthful captor ever since he hadheard him called by name. At length he said:--

"Have you got a brother in the confederate army?"

Frank changed color. "Why do you ask that?"

"Because we have a Captain Manly, from the north somewhere, who looksenough like you to be a pretty near relation. "

Frank trembled with interest as he inquired, "What is his given name?"

"Captain--Captain _George_ Manly, I'm pretty sure. "

"Yes, sir, "--and sorry tears came into Frank's eyes as he spoke, --"Isuppose I must own he is my brother. "

"Well, you've a smart chance of meeting him, I reckon, --if, as I said, your men are equal to your boys. For he's fighting against you to-day, and he's one of the pluckiest, and he won't run. "

 XXX. 

 THE BOYS MEET AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 

Frank was anxious to inquire further concerning his apostate brother; butat this moment one of Foster's aids came up, and saw the prisoner. 

"Where did you find that fellow?" The story was quickly told. "Well, "said the officer, "you've taken the first prisoner to-day. "

He then turned to question the captive, who seemed inclined to talkfreely about the position and force of the confederates. 

"I'll take this fellow in charge, " he said, perceiving that it was in hispower to give valuable information. "Come, too, if you like. "

"I thank you; I want to join my company, " said Frank. 

"You'd rather do that than come and see the general?"

"I can see him any time when he wants me, but we don't have a fight everyday, sir. "

"Well, he shall hear of you. Can I do any thing for you?"

"If you please, you may take this gun that I have captured; one is enoughfor me. "

The officer took it, saying, as he turned to go, --

"A spirited boy, and as modest as he is brave!"

In the mean time Frank's comrades in the fight were cutting their waythrough a thick swampy jungle in the direction of the enemy's left flank. 

Relieved of his prisoner, his ardor inflamed rather than quenched by theevil tidings he had heard of his brother, he followed in their track, passing directly across the fire of the battery. 

The hurricane of destruction swept howling over him. The atmosphere wasthick with smoke. Grape-shot whizzed through the bushes. The scream ofrifled shot seemed to fill the very air with terror and shuddering. Rightbefore him a shell struck a forest tree, shivering limbs and trunk in aninstant, as if a bolt from heaven had fallen upon it. He felt that at anymoment his tender body too might be torn in pieces; but he believed God'sarm was about him, and that he would be preserved. Deep and solemn, happyeven, was that conviction. A sense of the grand and terrible filled him;the whole soul of the boy was aroused. He was not afraid of any thing. Hefelt ready for any thing, even death, in his country's service. 

The mud was deep, and savage the entanglement of bushes on every side. But the troops, breaking through, had made the way comparatively easy tofollow, and Frank soon overtook the regiment. 

Great was Captain Edney's surprise at sight of him, with a gun in hishand and with the glow of youthful heroism in his face. 

"What are you here for?"

"To beg permission to take Winch's place in the ranks. "

"Your place is with the ambulance corps. "

"I got excused from that, sir. I am not strong enough to carry heavy menthrough the swamps, " said Frank, with a smile. 

"But strong enough to take a man's place in the ranks!" said CaptainEdney. 

"I would like to have you try me, sir. "

You may know that Captain Edney loved the boy to whom he gave so manywords and such serious thought at a time of action and peril. Perhaps hehad heard of Winch's pusillanimity, and understood the spirit whichprompted Frank to fill his place. Certain it is he saw in the lad's eyethe guarantee that, if permitted, he would give no cowardly account ofhimself that day. So, reluctantly, dreading lest evil might happen tohim, he granted his request; and with a thrill of joy, Frank sprang toAtwater's side. 

"I'm here, old Abe!"

"I'm glad--and sorry!" said Abe. 

The company had halted, awaiting the movement of the troops in front. 

"We are getting into a splendid position!" said Gray, who had passedthrough the undergrowth to reconnoitre. "We're fairly on their flank, andnot discovered yet!"

"How far did you go?" asked Captain Edney. 

"To the clearing, which is just there where the woods look lighter. Icould see the guns of the battery blazing away, and rebels in the woodssupporting it. They're too busy to notice us. "

"We're discovered, though!" said Captain Edney as a bullet came chippingits way among the twigs above them. 

"The sharpshooters are after us!" said Gray, gayly. "And now we're afterthem!"

The order was given to advance. The men dashed forward through thebushes. They soon made the clearing, and marching along its edge, openedfire by file upon the battery and the rebels in the woods. 

"You do well, Frank!" said Atwater, seeing his young companion coollyloading and firing at his side. 

"It's a perfect surprise to them! they didn't think we could do it!"cried Gray, elated. "Lively, boys! lively. "

The firing, regular at first, running along the line from right to left, soon became a continual rattling, each man loading at will, and firingwhenever an enemy's head showed itself. 

"There! I popped you over, you sneaking rebel!" cried Seth Tucket, watching the effect of his shot. "Take the fellow next to him there, Harris! behind that stump!"

"Let him put up his head a little higher!" said Harris, taking aim. 

He fired. The rebel dropped, not behind the stump, but beside it. 

"You've saved him!" shouted Tucket. "That'll pay for Ellis and JackWinch!"

The fire of the enemy in the woods was soon concentrated on CaptainEdney's company, which happened to be most exposed. 

"Fire and load lying!" rang the captain's voice through the din. 

Frank saw those next him throw themselves down behind a fallen tree. Hedid the same. The trunk presented an excellent rest for his musket, andhe fired across it. But when he came to load, he found difficulty. He hadbeen exercised in the manual of arms, yet the operation of ramming thecartridge while on his back was beyond his practice. Give him time, andhe could do it. But he felt that time was precious, and that every shottold. 

He glanced at Atwater, resting on his left side as he brought his gunback after discharging it; taking out his cartridge; then turning on hisback, holding the piece with both hands and placing the butt between hisfeet; and in that position, with the barrel over his breast, chargingcartridge, drawing rammer, and so forth. 

All which the tall soldier performed scientifically and quickly. YetFrank saw that it took even him much longer to load lying than standing. What, then, could he hope to do?

What he did was this. He deliberately got upon his feet, and with theballs singing around him, proceeded unconcernedly with his loading. 

"Down!" called Atwater to him; "down! You're making a target ofyourself!"

Frank resolutely went on with his loading. 

"Down, there! down, Frank!" shouted Captain Edney. 

Frank shouted back, --

"I can't load unless I stand up, sir!"

"Never mind that! Down!" repeated his captain, peremptorily. 

"I've got my cartridge down, any way, " said Frank, triumphantly, droppingagain behind the log. 

"Why don't you obey orders?" cried Gray. 

"The orders were to load and fire, and I was bound to obey them beforeany others!" said Frank, preparing to prime. 

Just then Atwater, who was again on his back, suddenly dropped his piece, which fell across his left arm, and brought his right hand to his breast. The movement was so abrupt and unusual it attracted Frank's attention. 

"Are you hit, Abe?"

And in an instant he saw the answer to his hurried question in a gush ofblood which crimsoned the poor, brave fellow's breast. 

"It has come!" said Atwater. 

"How could it--and you lying down so!" ejaculated Frank. 

"I don't know--never mind me!" replied Abe, faintly. 

Then Frank remembered the mysterious shots aimed at him and Sinjin in thewoods, and the subsequent solution of the mystery. He looked up--allaround--overhead. 

"What's the trouble, Manly?" screamed Tucket. "What do you see?"

"There!" Frank shouted, pointing upwards; "there! the man that killedAtwater!"

And in the branches of a tree, which stood but a few paces in front ofthem, he showed, half hidden by the thick masses, the figure of a rebel. 

The sharpshooter was loading his piece. Frank saw the movement, and wouldhave hastened to avenge the death of his friend before the assassin couldfire again. But he was out of caps, and must borrow. Tucket's gun wasready. 

"'Die thou shalt, gray-headed ruffian!'"

Seth shouted the words up at the man in the tree, and lying on his back, brought the butt of his gun to his shoulder, aimed heavenward, and fired. 

Scarce had flame shot from the muzzle, when down came the rebel's guntumbling to the ground; pursued out of the tree by something thatresembled a huge bird, with spread wings, swooping down terribly, andstriking the ground with a jar heard even amid the thunder of battle. 

It was the rebel himself. 

"'Rattling, crashing, thrashing, thunder down!'" screamed Seth Tucket, his ruling passion, poetry, strong even in battle. 

The man, pitching forwards in his fearful somerset, had fallen within afew feet of Frank. The boy recovering from his astonishment at the awfulsight, felt a strange curiosity to see if he was dead. 

He looked over the log. There lay the wretch, a hideous heap, the face ofhim upturned and recognizable. 

Where had Frank seen that grim countenance, that short, stiff, iron-grayhair? Somewhere, surely. He looked again, trying to fix his memory. 

"I swan to man, ef it ain't old Buckley!"

Seth was right. It was the Maryland secessionist whose turkeys the boyshad stolen, and who, in consequence, had made haste to avenge his wrongsby joining the confederate army. 

A strange, sickening sensation came over Frank at the discovery. Thus theevil he had done followed him. But for that wild freak of plundering thepoor man's poultry-yard, he might be plodding now on his Maryland farm, and Atwater would not be lying there so white and still with a bullet inhis breast. 

 XXXI. 

 "VICTORY OR DEATH. "

Where all this time was the old drum-major? He too had disappeared fromthe ambulance corps to assume, like Frank, a position of still morearduous service and greater danger. 

Shortly after Frank left him, word came that the battery ofboat-howitzers, which, from a curve in the road that commanded the rebelworks, had been doing splendid execution, was suffering terribly, andgetting short of hands. It must soon withdraw unless reinforced. But whowould volunteer to help work the guns?

The old man had been familiar with artillery practice. At the thought ofthe service and the peril his spirit grew proud within him. But his heartyearned for Frank. 

"Where is Manly?" he inquired of Ellis. 

"I believe he has gone into the fight with our company, " said the woundedvolunteer. 

The truth flashed upon the veteran. Yes, the boy he loved had gone beforehim into danger. He no longer hesitated, or lost any time in gettingleave to report himself to the commander of the battery. 

"What can you do?" was the hurried question put to him, as he stood inthe thick powder-smoke, calmly asking for work. 

Just then, a gunner was taken off his feet by a cannon-ball. 

"I can take this fellow's place, sir, " said the old man, grimly. 

"Take it!" replied the officer. 

The wounded sailor was borne away, and the old drummer, springing to thehowitzer, assisted in working it until, its ammunition exhausted, thebattery was ordered to withdraw. 

During the severest part of the action Mr. Sinjin had observed a personin citizen's dress, with his coat off, briskly handling the cannon-balls. Their work done, he turned to speak with him. 

"You are a friend of my young drummer boy, I believe, " said the old man. 

"Yes, and a friend of all his friends!" cordially answered thewhite-sleeved civilian. 

"You can preach well, and fight well, " said the veteran, his eyesgleaming with stern pride. 

"I prefer to preach, but I believe in fighting too, when duty points thatway, " said Mr. Egglestone, --for it was he, flushed and begrimed with histoil at the deadly guns. 

Even as they were speaking, a cannon-ball passed between them. Mr. Egglestone was thrown back by the shock of the wind it carried, butrecovered instantly to find himself unhurt. But where was the olddrummer? He was not there. And it was some seconds before the bewilderedclergyman perceived him, several paces distant, lying on his face by theroad. 

 * * * *

The howitzers silenced, it was determined to storm the enemy's works. 

Frank afterwards had the satisfaction of knowing that it was in part theinformation gained from the prisoner he had taken that decided thecommanding general to order a charge. 

Frank was with his company, where we left him, when suddenly yells rentthe air; and, looking, he saw the Zouaves of Parke's brigade dashing downthe causeway in front of the rebel redoubt. 

They were met by a murderous fire. They returned it as they charged. Astheir comrades fell, they passed over them unheedingly, and still kepton--a sublime sight to look upon, in their wild Arab costumes, shouting, "Zou! zou!" bounding like tigers, clearing obstructions, and sweepingstraight to the breastwork with their deadly bayonets. 

"What is it?" asked Atwater, faintly. 

"Victory!" answered Frank; for the firing ceased--the enemy were flying. 

"That's enough!" And the still pallid face of the soldier smiled. 

Victory! None but those who have fought a stern foe to the bloody close, and seen his ranks break and fly, and the charging columns pursue, ranksof bristling steel rushing in through clouds of battle smoke, know whatpride and exultation are in that word. 

Victory! Reno's column, that had outflanked the rebels on the west side, fighting valiantly, charged simultaneously with the Zouaves. The wholeline followed the example, and went in with colors flying, and shouts ofjoy filling the welkin which had been shaken so lately with the jar ofbattle. Over fallen trees, over pits and ditches, through brush, and bog, and water, the conquering hosts poured in; Frank's regiment with therest, and himself among the foremost that planted their standard on thebreastwork. 

There were the abandoned cannon, still warm and smoking. There lay adeserted flag, bearing the Latin inscription "_Aut vincere autmori_, "--Victory or death, --flung down in the precipitate flight. 

"They couldn't conquer, and they didn't want to die; so they split thedifference, and run, " observed Seth Tucket. 

There too lay the dead and dying, whom the boastful enemy had forsakenwhere they fell. One of these who had _not_ run was an officer--handsomeand young. He was not yet dead. A strange light was in his eyes as helooked on the forms of the foemen thronging around him, saw the faces ofthe victors, and heard the cheering. Success and glory were forthem--for him defeat and death. 

"Lift me up, " he said, "and let me look at you once. "

They raised him to a sitting posture, supported partly by a gun-carriage, and partly by the arms of his conquerors. And they pressed around him, their voices hushed, their triumphant brows saddened with respect for thedying. 

"Though we have been fighting each other, " he said, solemnly, "we arestill brothers. God forgive me if I have done wrong! I too am a northernman, --I too----"

As he spoke, a figure in the uniform of his foes sprang through the crowdto his feet. 

"O, my brother! O, my brother George!"

It was Frank Manly, who knelt, and with passionate grief clasped the handthat had clasped his in fondness and merry sport so often in the happydays of his childhood, when neither ever dreamed of their unnaturalseparation and this still more unnatural meeting. 

"Frank! my little brother! so grown! is it you?" said the woundedcaptive, with dreamy surprise. 

"O George! how could you?" Frank began, with anguish in his voice. But hechecked himself; he would not reproach his dying brother. 

"My wife, you know!" was all the unhappy young man could murmur. Helooked at Frank with a faint and ever fainter smile of love, till hiseyes grew dim. "I am going, Frank. It is all wrong--I know now--but it istoo late. Tell mother----"

His words became inaudible, and he sank, swooning, in Captain Edney'sarms. 

"What, George? what shall I tell mother?" pleaded Frank, in an agony. 

"And father too, " said the dying lips, in a moment of revivingrecollection. "And my sisters----" But the message was never uttered. 

"George! O, George! I am here! Don't you see me?"

The dim eyes opened; but they saw not. 

"Carry me up stairs! Let me die in the old room--our room, Frank. "

It was evident his mind was wandering; he fancied himself once more athome, and wished to be laid in the little chamber where he used to sleepwith Frank, as Frank had slept with Willie in later days. 

"Kiss me, mother!" The ashen face smiled; then the light faded from it;and the lips, grown cold and numb, murmured softly, "It is growingdark--Good night!"

And he slept--the sleep of eternity. 

When Frank rose up from the corpse he had mastered himself. Then CaptainEdney saw, what none had noticed before, that blood was streaming downhis arm--the same arm that had been grazed before; this time it had beenshot through. 

"You are wounded!"

"Yes--but not much. I must go--let me go and take care of Atwater!"

"But you need taking care of yourself!"--for he was deadly pale. 

"No, sir--I--Abe, there----"

Even as the boy was speaking he grew dizzy and fell fainting in hiscaptain's arms. 

 XXXII. 

 AFTER THE BATTLE. 

It is over. The battle is ended, the victory won. The sun goes down uponconquerors and conquered, upon the living and the dead. And the eveningcomes, melancholy. The winds sigh in the pine-tops, the sullen waves dashupon the shore, the gloom of the cypresses lies dismal and dark onRoanoke Island. 

Buildings suitable for the purpose, taken from the enemy, have beenconverted into hospitals, and the wounded are brought in. 

There is Frank with his bandaged arm, and Ellis with his stump of a handbound up, and others worse off than they. There is the surgeon of theirregiment, active, skilful, kind. There, too, is Mr. Eggleston, theminister, proving his claim to that high title, ministering in the truestsense to all who need him, holding to fevered lips the cup of medicine orsoothing drink, and holding to fevered souls the still more preciousdrink. 

There is Corporal Gray, assisting to arrange the hospital, and cheeringhis comrades with an account of the victory. 

"The rebels ran like herds of deer after we got the battery. We tracked'em by the traps they threw away. Guns, knapsacks, coats, --they flung offevery thing, and skedaddled for dear life! We met an old negro woman, whotold us where their camp was; but some of 'em had taken anotherdirection, by a road that goes to the east side of the island. Our boysfollowed, and found 'em embarking in boats. We fired on 'em, and broughtback two of their boats. In one we got Jennings Wise, of the Wise Legion, that we had the bloody fight with flanking the battery. He was woundedand dying. 

"But our greatest haul was the camp the old negress pointed out Therebels rallied, and as we moved up, fired upon us, doing no damage. Wereturned the compliment, and dropped eight men. Then more running, of thesame chivalrous sort, our boys after them; when out comes a flag of trucefrom the camp. 

"'What terms will be granted us?' says the rebel officer. 

"'No terms, but unconditional surrender, ' says General Foster. 

"'How long a time will be granted us to consider?'

"'Just time enough for you to go to your camp to convey the terms andreturn. '

"Off went the rebel. We waited fifteen minutes. Then we pushed on again. That movement quickened their deliberations; and out came Colonel Shaw, the commander, and says to General Foster, --

"'I give up my sword, and surrender five thousand men!' For he didn'tknow some two thousand of his force had escaped. What we have got isabout three thousand prisoners, and all their forts and quarters, whichwe call a pretty good bag. "

The boys forgot their wounds, they forgot their dead and dying comrades, listening to this recital. But short-lived was the enthusiasm of one, atleast. Scarce was Gray gone, when Frank saw four men with a stretcher, bringing upon it a grizzled, pallid old man. 

"O, Mr. Sinjin! O, my dear, dear friend! You too!"

"Is it my boy?" said the veteran, with a wan smile. "Yes, I too! Theyhave done for me, I fear. "

"But nobody told me. How--where----" The boy's grief choked his voice. 

"An impertinent cannon-ball interrupted my conversation with Mr. Egglestone, " said the old man, stifling his agony as the men removed himto a cot. "And took a--" he groaned in spite of himself--"a greedymouthful out of my side--that's all. "

Frank knew not what to say or what to do, he was so overcome. 

"There, my boy, " said the old man, to comfort him, "no tears for me! Itis enough to see you again. They told me you were hurt--" looking at thelad's disabled arm. "I am glad it is no worse. " And the wan veteransmiled content. 

Frank, with his one hand, smoothed the pillow under the old gray head, struggling hard to keep back his sobs as he did so. 

"Who is my neighbor there?" Mr. Sinjin cheerfully asked. 

"Atwater, " Frank managed to articulate. 

"Is it? I am sorry! A bad wound?"

"The bullet went through a Bible he carried, then into his breast, beyondthe reach of surgery, I am afraid, " Mr. Egglestone answered for Frank. "He lies in a stupor, just alive. "

"Poor fellow!" said Mr. Sinjin, feelingly. "If Death must have one of us, let him for once be considerate, and take me. Atwater is young, justmarried, --he needs to live; but I--I am not of much account to any body, and can just as well be spared as not. "

"O, no, O, no!" sobbed Frank; "I can't spare you! I can't let you die!"

"My boy, " said the old man, deeply affected, "I would like to tarry alittle longer in the world, if only for your sake. You have done so muchfor me--so much more than you can ever know! You have brought back to myold heart more of its youth and freshness than it had felt for years. Ithank God for it. I thank you, my dear boy. "

With these words still ringing in his ear, Frank was taken away by thethoughtful Mr. Egglestone and compelled to lie down. 

"You must not agitate the old man, and you need repose yourself, Frank. I fear the effects of all this excitement, together with that wound, onyour slender constitution. "

"O, my wound is nothing!" Frank declared. "See that he and Atwater haveevery thing done for them--won't you, Mr. Egglestone?"

The minister promised, and Frank endeavored to settle his mind to rest. 

But he could not sleep. Every five minutes he started up to inquire afterhis friends. Hour after hour passed, and he still remained wakeful as aspirit doomed never to sleep again. His wounded arm pained him; and hehad so many things to think of, --his suffering comrades, old Buckleyshot out of the tree, his rebel brother, his folks at home, and all thewhirling incidents and horrors of that dread day. 

So he thought, and thought; and prayed silently for the old drummergroaning on his bed of pain; and pleaded for Atwater lying there, still, with the death-shadow he had foreseen darkening the portal of his body. And Frank longed for his mother, as he grew weary and weak, until at lastsleep came in mercy, and dropped her soft, vapory veil over his soul. 

 * * * *

The thrilling news of the victory came north by telegraph. Then followedletters from correspondents, giving details of the battle, when, onemorning, Helen Manly ran home in a glow of excitement, bringing a dampand crumpled newspaper. 

"News from Frank!" she cried, out of breath. 

In a moment the little family was gathered about her, the parents eagerand pale. 

"Is he living? Tell me that!" said Mrs. Manly. 

"Yes, but he has been wounded, and is in the hospital. "

"Wounded!" broke forth Mr. Manly in consternation; but his wife kept hersoul in silence, waiting with compressed white lips to learn more. 

"In the arm--not badly. There is a whole half column about him here. Forhe has made himself famous--Frank! our dear, dear Frank!" And the quicktears flooding the girl's eyes fell upon the paper. 

Mrs. Manly snatched the sheet and read, how her boy had distinguishedhimself; how he had captured a rebel, and fought gallantly in the ranks, and received a wound without minding it; and how all who had witnessedhis conduct, both officers and men, were praising him; it was allthere--in the newspaper. 

"What adds to the romance of this boy's story, " said the writer inconclusion, "is a circumstance which occurred at the capture of thebreastwork. Among the dead and wounded left behind when the enemy took toflight, was a rebel captain, of northern parentage, who came south a fewyears ago, married a southern belle, became a slaveholder, joined theslaveholders' rebellion in consequence, and lost his life in defence ofRoanoke Island. He lived long enough to recognize in the drummer boy_his own younger brother_, and died in his arms. "

Great was the agitation into which the family was thrown by thisintelligence. 

"O that I had the wings of a dove!" said Mrs. Manly. "For I must go, Imust go to my child!"

Pride and joy in his youthful heroism, pain and grief for the other'stragic end, all was absorbed in the dreadful uncertainty which hung aboutthe welfare of the favorite son; and she knew that not all the attentionsand praises of men could make up to him, there on his sick bed, for theabsence of his mother. 

The family waited, however, --in what anguish of suspense need not to betold, --until the next mail brought them letters from Mr. Egglestone andCaptain Edney. By these, their worst fears were confirmed. Exposure, fatigue, excitement, the wound he had received, had done their work withFrank. He was dangerously ill with a fever. 

"O, dear!" groaned Mr. Manly, "this wicked, this wicked rebellion! Georgeis killed, and now Frank! What can we do? what can we do, mother?" heasked, helplessly. 

While he was groaning, his wife rose up with that energy which so oftenatoned for the lack of it in him. 

"I am going to Roanoke Island! I am going to my child in the hospital!"

That very day she set out. Alone she went, but she was not long without acompanion. On the boat to Fortress Monroe she saw a solitary anddisconsolate young woman, whose face she was confident of having seensomewhere before. She accosted her, found her going the same journey withherself, and on a similar errand, and learned her history. 

"My husband, that I was married to at the cars just as his regiment wasleaving Boston, has been shot at Roanoke Island, and whether he is aliveor dead I do not know. "

"Your husband, " said Mrs. Manly, --"my son knows him well. They were closefriends!"

And from that moment the mother of Frank and the wife of Atwater wereclose friends also, supporting and consoling each other on the journey. 

 XXXIII. 

 A FRIEND IN NEED. 

At Roanoke Island, a certain tall, lank, athletic private had beendetailed for fatigue duty at the landing, when the steamer from the inletarrived. 

Being at leisure, he was watching with an expression of drollery andinquisitiveness for somebody to tell him the news, when he saw twobewildered, anxious women come ashore, and look about them, as if waitingfor assistance. 

Prompted by his naturally accommodating disposition, and no less byhonest curiosity, the soldier stepped up to them. 

"Ye don't seem over'n above familiar in these parts, ladies, " he said, with his politest grin. 

"We are looking for an officer who promised to aid us in finding ourfriends in the hospital--or at least in getting news from them, " said theelder of the two, --a fine-looking, though distressed and careworn womanof forty. 

"Sho! wal. I s'pose he's got other things to look after, like as not!"And the soldier, in his sympathy, cast his eyes around in search of theofficer. "Got friends in the hospital, hev ye?" Then peering curiouslyunder the bonnet of the young female, "Ain't you the gal that merriedAtwater?"

"O! do you know him? Is he--is he alive?" By which eager interrogativeshe perceived that she was "the gal. "

The droll countenance grew solemn. "I ain't edzac'ly prepared to answerthat last question, Miss--Miss Atwater!" he said, with some embarrassment. "But the fust I can respond to with right good will. Did I knowhim!"--Tears came into his eyes as he added, "Abe Atwater, ma'am, was myfriend; and a braver soldier or a better man don't at this moment exist!"

"Then you must know my boy, too!" cried the elder female, --"Frank Manly, drummer. "

The soldier brightened at once. 

"Frank Manly! 'Whom not to know argues one's self unknown. ' Your mostobedient, ma'am, "--bowing and scraping. "Your son has attracted theattention of the officers, and made himself pop'lar with every body. Mabby ye haven't heerd----"

"I've heard, " interrupted the anxious mother. "But how is he? Tell methat!"

"Wal, he was a little grain more chirk last night, I was told. He has hada fever, and been delirious, and all that--perty nigh losing his chanceo' bein' promoted, he was, one spell! But now I guess his life's about assure's his commission, which Cap'n Edney says there ain't no doubtabout. "

"So young!" said Mrs. Manly, trembling with interest. 

"He's young, but he's got what we want in officers--that is, sperit; he'schock full of that. I take some little pride in him myself, " added theprivate. "We was almost like brothers, me and Frank was! 'In the desert, in the battle, in the ocean-tempest's wrath, we stood together, side byside; one hope was ours, one path!'"

"This, then, is Seth Tucket!" exclaimed Mrs. Manly, who knew him by hispoetry. 

"That's my name, ma'am, at your service!" And Seth made anothertremendous bow. "But I see, " he said, "you're anxious; ye want to git tothe hospital. I tell ye, Frank'll be glad to see ye; he used to raveabout you in his delirium; he would call '_mother! mother!_' sometimeshalf the night. "

"Poor child! poor, dear child!" said Mrs. Manly. "I can't wait! help me, sir, --show me the way to him, if nothing more!"

"Hello!" shouted Seth. "Whose cart is this? Where's the driver of thiscart? It's been standin' here this hour, and nobody owns it. " He jumpedinto it. "Who claims this vehicle? 'Who so base as would not help awoman? If any, speak! for him have I offended!' Nobody? Then I take theresponsibility--and the cart too! Hop in, ladies. Here's a board for youto set on. I'll drive ye to the hospital, and bring back the kerridgebefore Uncle Sam misses it. "

The women were only too glad to accept the invitation, and they were soonseated on the board. Seth adjusted his anatomy to the edge of thecart-box, and drove off. But he soon stood up, declaring that a hungryfellow like him couldn't stand that board, --he was too sharp set. 

Mrs. Manly did not venture to ask again about Atwater, --what he hadalready said of him having gone so heavily to the poor wife's heart. Butshe could inquire about the old drum-major, who, she had heard, waswounded. 

"Old Sinjin? Wal! I'm in jest the same dilemmy consarning him as Atwater. They've both been sick and at the pint of death ever sence the fight. Nowone of 'em's dead, and t'other's alive. A chap that was at the hospitaltold me this morning, 'One of them sickest fellers in your regiment diedlast night, " says he; 'I don't know which of 'em, ' says he. And I haven'thad a chance yet to find out. "

"O, haste then!" cried the young wife. "May be my husband is livingstill!"

"Shouldn't wonder the least might if he is, " said Seth, willing toencourage her. "For he has hung on to life wonderfully; he said hebelieved you was coming, and he couldn't bear the idee of dying before hecould see you once more. Old Buckley's bullet has been found, you'll bepleased to know. "

"Old Buckley? Who is old Buckley?"

"The Maryland secessionist that shot your husband, and that I broughtdown from the tree to pay for it. He never'll git into another tree, without his soul goes into a gobble-turkey, as I should think it might, and flies up in one to roost!"

"And the bullet!----"

"As I was going to tell ye, it's been found. It went through the Biblethat you gave him (and that Frank's preserving for you now, I believe), and lodged in his body, the doctor couldn't tell where. But one night Mr. Egglestone, --the fighting minister, you know, that merried you, --he wasbathing Abe's back, and what did he find but a bunch, that Abe said wassore. 'Doctor!' says he, 'I've found the bullet!' And, sure enough! thedoctor come and cut out the lead. It had gone clean through the poorfeller, --into his breast, and out under his side!--Hello!" said Seth, "Ishall hev to turn out and wait for that company to march by. I swan toman ef 'tain't my company, --or a part on't, at least! They're drummingout a coward, to the tune of the _Rogue's March_!"

The women were all impatience to get on; and Mrs. Manly felt but thefaintest gleam of interest in the procession, until, as it drew near, ina wretched figure, wearing, in place of the regimental uniform, a suit ofrags that might have been taken from some contraband, with drummersbefore and fixed bayonets behind, she recognized--Jack Winch!

"Wal!" said Seth, "I'd ruther go into a fight and be shot dead than goout of camp in that style! See that label, 'COWARD, ' on his back? But hedeserves it, ef ever a chap did!"

And Seth, as he drove on, related the story of Jack's miserable boastingand poltroonery. Much as she pitied the wretch, Mrs. Manly could not helpremembering his treachery towards her son, and feeling that Frank was nowamply avenged. 

 XXXIV. 

 THE HOSPITAL. 

Let us pass on before, and take a peep into the hospital. There we findNed Ellis, playing dominoes with one hand, and joking to keep up thespirits of his companions. There lies Frank on his cot, with blanchedcountenance, eyes closed, and pale lips smiling, as if in dreams. Of histwo friends, Atwater and the old drummer, only one, as Seth Tucket said, remains. One was carried out last night--in a coffin his cold form islaid--life's fitful fever is over with him. 

And the other? Very still, very pale, stretched on his narrow bed, nomotion of breathing perceptible, behold him! What is it we see in thatsculptured, placid face? Is it life, or is it death? It's neither lifenor death, but sleep, that dim gulf between. 

Mr. Egglestone, who has been much about the hospital from the first, enters with a radiant look, and steps lightly to Frank's side. 

The drummer boy's eyes unclose, and smile their welcome. 

"Better, still better, I am glad to see!" says the minister, cheerily. 

"Almost well, " answered Frank, although so weak that he can hardly speak. "I shall be out again in a day or two. The fever has quite left me; and Iwas having such a beautiful dream. I thought I was a water-lily, floatingon a lake; and the lake, they told me, was _sleep_; and I felt allwhiteness and peace! Wasn't it pretty?"

"Pretty, and true too!" said the minister, with a suffusing tear, as helooked at the pale, gentle boy, and thought how much like a whitefragrant lily he was. "I have news for you, Frank. The steamer hasarrived. "

"O! and letters?"

"Probably, though I have none yet. But something besides letters!"--Mr. Egglestone whispered confidentially, "Atwater's wife is here!"

"Is she? Brave girl!--O, dear!" said Frank, his features changingsuddenly, "why didn't my mother come too! She might, I think! It seems asif I couldn't wait, as if I couldn't live, till I see her!"

"Well, Frank, " then said the minister, having thus prepared him, "yourmother did think--your mother is here!"

At the moment, Mrs. Manly, who could be no longer restrained, flew to thebedside of her son. He started up with a wild cry; she caught him in herarms; they clung and kissed and cried together. 

"Mother! mother!" "My child! my darling child!" were the only words thatcould be heard in that smothering embrace. 

Mr. Egglestone turned, and took the hand of her companion, who hadentered with her, and led her to the cot where lay the still figure andplacid, sculptured face. O woman, be strong! O wife, be calm! keep backthe tears, stifle the anguish, of that heaving breast. 

She is strong, she is calm, tears and anguish are repressed. She bendsover the scarcely breathing form, gazes into the utterly pallid face, andwith clasped hands in silence blesses him, prays for him--her husband. 

For this is he--Abe Atwater, the shadow of death he foresaw stilldarkening the portal of his body, as if hesitating to enter, nor yetwilling to pass by. And the face in the coffin outside there is the faceof the old drummer, whose soul, let us hope, is at peace. One wastaken--will the other be left?

The eyes of Abe opened; they beheld the vision of his wife, and gladness, like a river of soft waters, glides into his soul. O, may it be a riverof life to him! As love has held his spirit back from death, so may itspower restore him; for such things have been; and there is no medicinefor the sick body or sinking soul like the breath and magnetic touch oflove. 

Frank meanwhile was lying on his bed, holding his mother's hands, anddrinking in the joy of her presence. And she was feeding his rapture withthe tenderest motherly words and looks, and telling him of home. 

"But how selfish I am!" said Frank, "How little you could afford toleave, and come here! I thought I was going to be a help to you, and, thebest I can do, I am only a trouble and a hindrance!"

"I could not stop an instant to think of trouble or expense when mydarling was in danger!" exclaimed the grateful mother. "I feel that Godwill take care of us; if we are his children, he will provide for all ourwants. Will he not, Mr. Egglestone?"

"When I have read to you this paper, " replied the minister, "then you canbe the judge. I was requested to read it to Frank as soon as he was ableto hear it--after his friend's death. "

"Is it something for me? Poor old Mr. Sinjin!" exclaimed Frank. "He diedlast night, mother. But he was so happy, and so willing to go, I can'tmourn for him. What is the paper?"

"A few nights ago he requested me to come to his side and write as heshould dictate. " And the clergyman, seating himself, read:--

 "'The Last Will and Testament of Servetus St. John, commonly called Old Sinjin. 

 "I, Servetus St. John, Drummer, being of sound mind, but of body fast failing unto death, having received its mortal hurt in battle for my country, do give and bequeath of my possessions as follows:--

 "'_Item. _ My Soul I return to the Maker who gave it, and my Flesh to the dust whence it came. 

 "'_Item. _ To my Country and the Cause of Freedom, as I have given my last poor services, so I likewise give cheerfully my Life. 

 "'_Item. _ To Mehitabel Craig, my only surviving sister after the flesh, I give what alone she can claim of me, and what, as a dying sinner, I have no right to withhold, my full pardon for all offences. 

 "'_Item. _ To my present friend and comforter, Mr. Egglestone, as a memento of my deep obligations to him, I give my watch. 

 "'_Item. _ To my fellow-sufferer, Abram Atwater, or to his widow, in case of his decease, I bequeath the sum of one hundred dollars. 

 "'_Item. _ To my fellow-sufferer and dearly beloved pupil, Frank Manly, I give, in token of affection, a miniature which will be found after my death. 

 "'_Item. _ To the same Frank Manly I also give and bequeath the residue of all my worldly possessions, to wit:--'"

Then followed an enumeration of certain stocks and deposits, amounting tothe sum of three thousand dollars. 

The will was duly witnessed, and Mr. Egglestone was the appointedexecutor. 

Frank was silent; he was crying, with his hands over his face. 

"So you see, my young friend, " said Mr. Egglestone, "you have, for yourown comfort, and for the benefit of your good parents, a snug littlefortune, which you will come into possession of in due time. As for theminiature, I may as well hand it to you now. I found it after the oldman's death. He always wore it on his heart. "

He took it from its little soiled buckskin sheath, and gave it to Mrs. Manly. She turned pale as she looked at it. Frank was eager to see it, and, almost reluctantly, she placed it in his hands. It might almost havepassed for a portrait of himself, only it was that of a girl; and he knewat once that it was his mother, as she had looked at his age. 

While he was gazing at the singular memento of the old man's romanticand undying attachment, Mrs. Manly looked away, with the air of oneresolutely turning her mind from one painful subject to another. 

"I wish to ask you, Mr. Egglestone, what disposition has been madeof--I had another son, you know. "

He understood her. 

"I trust, " said he, "that what Captain Edney and myself thought proper todo will meet your approval. After the battle, the wife of Captain Manlysent a request to have his body forwarded to her by a flag of truce. Weconsulted Frank, who told us to do as we pleased about it. Accordingly, we obtained permission to grant her request, and the body of her husbandwas sent to her. "

There was for a moment a look, as of one who felt bitter wrong, on Mrs. Manly's face; but it passed. 

"You did well, Mr. Egglestone. To her who had got the soul belonged thebody also. May peace go with it to her desolated home!"

"Mother!" whispered Frank, gazing still at the miniature, "tell me! am Iright? do I know now why it was the dear old man thought so much of me?"

"If you have not guessed, my child. I will tell you. Years ago, when Iwas the little girl you see there, he was good enough to think _I_ wasgood enough to marry him. That is all. "

Frank said no more, but laid the picture on his heart, --for it was his, and the dearest part of the dear old man's legacy. 

 XXXV. 

 CONCLUSION. 

After a long delay Captain Edney came; apologizing for not appearing towelcome his drummer boy's mother and his old schoolmistress before. Hisexcuse was valid: one of his men, S. Tucket by name, had got into ascrape by running off with one of Uncle Sam's carts, and he had been tohelp him out of it. 

He found a new light shining in the hospital--the light of woman'sinfluence; the light of life to Frank and his friend Atwater, nor to themonly, but to all upon whom it shone. 

Mrs. Manly remained in the hospital until her son was able to travel, when leave of absence was granted him, and all his friends crowded to bidhim farewell, as he departed in the boat with his mother for thenorth--for home!

Of his journey, of his happy arrival, the greetings from father, sister, little brother, friends--of all this I would gladly write a chapter ortwo; but he is no longer the Drummer Boy now, and so our business withhim is over. And so he left the service? Not he. 

"I'm to be a Soldier Boy now!" he declared to all those who came to shakehim by the hand and hear his story from his own lips. 

His wound was soon healed, and he hastened to return to his regiment; forhe was eager to be learning everything belonging to the profession of asoldier. It was not long, however, before he came north again--this timeon surprising business. Captain Edney, who had won the rank of Colonel atthe battle of Newbern, had been sent home to raise a regiment; and he hadbeen permitted to choose from his own company such persons as he thoughtbest fitted to assist him, and hold commissions under him. 

He chose Gray, Seth Tucket, and Frank. Another of our friends afterwardsjoined the regiment, with the rank of First Lieutenant; having quiterecovered from his wound, under the tender nursing of his wife. 

With his friends Edney, Gray, Tucket, and Atwater, Frank was as happy asever a young officer in a new service could be. He began as secondlieutenant; but----

But here our story must end; for to relate how he has fought his way up, step by step, to a rank which was never more fairly earned, would requirea separate volume, --materials for which we may possibly find some day inhis own letters to his mother, and in those of Colonel Edney to hissister Helen. 

 * * * *

Some extracts from a letter just received from the hero of these pagesmay perhaps interest the reader. 

 "I cannot tell you, sir, how much astonished I was on opening the package you sent me. I don't think the mysterious bundle that contained the watch dear old 'Mr. St. John' gave me surprised me half as much. I had never seen any _proof-sheets_ before, and hardly knew what to make of them at first. Then you should have heard me scream at Gray and Atwater. 'Boys, ' says I, 'here's a story founded on our adventures!' I sat up all that night reading it, and I must confess I had to blush a good many times before I got through. I see you have not called any of us by our real names; but I soon found out who 'Abe, ' and 'Seth, ' and 'Jack Winch, ' and all the other characters are meant for. I have read ever so many pages to 'Seth' himself, and he has laughed as heartily as any of us over his own oddities. We all wonder how you could have written the story, giving all the circumstances, and even the conversations that took place, so correctly; but I remember, when I was at your house, you kept me talking, and wrote down nearly every thing I said; besides which, I find there was a good deal more in my journal and letters than I supposed, when I consented to let you have them and make what use of them you pleased. Little did I think then, that ever such a book as the 'Drummer Boy' could be made out of them. 

 "You ask me to point out any important errors I may notice, in order that you may correct them before the book is published. Well, the night the row was in camp, when the 'Blues' cut down the captain's tent, the company was ordered out, and the roll called, and three other fellows put under guard, before Abe and I were let off. I might mention two or three similar mistakes, but I consider them too trifling to speak of. There are, besides, two or three omissions, which struck me in reading the wind-up of the story. 'Jack Winch' went home, and died of a fever within a month. If it isn't too late, I wish you would put that in; for I think it shows that those who think most of saving their lives are sometimes the first to lose them. 

 "You might add, too, that 'Mr. Egglestone' is now the chaplain of our regiment. We all love him, and he is doing a great deal of good here. I have put the 'Drummer Boy' into his hands, and I just saw him laughing over it. If every body reads it with the interest we do here in camp, it will be a great success. 

 "There is another thing--but this you need not put into the book. With the money my dear old friend and master left me, I have bought the house our folks live in, so that, whatever happens to me, they will never be without a home. .. . 

 "In conclusion, let me say that, while you have told some things of me I would rather every body should forget, you have, on the whole, given me a much better character than I deserve. 

 "We are already beginning to call each other by the names you have given us, and I take great pleasure in subscribing myself, "Yours, truly, "FRANK MANLY. "

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