Lydia, kissed him and burst into weeping.
So far as I can remember, I have passed no more anxious night in my life than the night of the 8th of March, 1862. My health did not permit me to go out of the tent; but from the gloomy rumours of the camps I knew that my anxiety was shared by all. Strange, I thought, that my experience in war should be so peculiarly disastrous. Bull Run had been but the first horror; here was another and possibly a worse one. The East seemed propitious to the rebels; Grant alone, of our side, could gain victories.
The burning ship cast a lurid glare over land and sea; dense smoke crept along the coast; shouts came to my ears--great effort, I knew, was being made to get the Minnesota off; nobody could have slept that night.
The Doctor made short absences from his camp. At ten o'clock he came in finally; a smile was on his face. Lydia had heard him, and now came in also.
"Jones," said he, "what will you give me for good news?"
"Oh, Doctor," said I, "don't tantalize me."
Lydia was watching the Doctor's face.
"Well," said he, "I must make a bargain. If I tell you something to relieve your fears, will you promise me to go to sleep?"
"Yes; I shall be glad to go to sleep; the quicker the better."