"As he died to make men holy, let us die to make men free,
While God is marching on."
Surrey's face brightened at the rapt expression of hers. "Sing it again, dearie!" he said. She sang it again. "Do you mean it?" he asked then. "Can you sing it, and mean it with all your heart, for me?"
She looked at him with an expression of anxiety and pain. "What are you asking, Willie?"
He sat down; taking her upon his knee, and with the old fond gesture, holding her head to his heart,—"I should have told you before, dearie, but I did not wish to throw any shadow on the happy days we have been spending together; they were few and brief enough without marring them; and I was certain of the effect it would have upon you, by your incessant anxiety for Robert."
She drew a long, gasping sigh, and started away from his hold: "O Willie, you are not going to—"
His arm drew her back to her resting-place. "I do not return to my command, darling. I am to raise a black brigade."
"Freedmen?"
"Yes, dearie."
"O Willie,—and that act just passed!"
"It is true; yet, after all, it is but one risk more."