"By Jove!" cried the veteran, "the war is going to be the making of you young fellows. Why, Graham, you no more look like the young man that played whist with me years since than I do. You have grown broad-shouldered and distingue, and you have the true military air in spite of that quiet civilian's dress."
"Oh, I shall always be comparatively insignificant," replied Graham, laughing. "Wait till Hilland wears the stars, as he surely will, and then you'll see a soldier."
"We see far more than a soldier in you, Alford," said Grace, earnestly. "Your men told Warren of your almost miraculous leap across the ditch; and Warren has again and again described your appearance as you rushed by him on his pursuers. Oh, I've seen the whole thing in my dreams so often!"
"Yes, Graham; you looked like one possessed. You reminded me of the few occasions when, in old college days, you got into a fury."
A frown as black as night lowered on Graham's brow, for they were recalling the most hateful memory of his life—a thought for which he felt he ought to die; but it passed almost instantly, and in the most prosaic tones he said, "Good friends, I'm hungry. I've splashed through Virginia mud twelve mortal hours to-day. Grace, be prepared for such havoc as only a cavalryman can make. We don't get such fare as this at the front."
She, with the pretty housewifely bustle which he had admired years ago, rang the bell and made preparations for a feast.
"Every fatted calf in Washington should be killed for you," she cried—"prodigal that you are, but only in brave deeds. Where's Iss? I want to see and feast him also."
"I left him well provided for in the lower regions, and astounding the 'cullud bredren' with stories which only the African can swallow. He shall come up by and by, for I have my final orders to give. He leads my horse back to the regiment in the morning, and takes care of him in my absence. I hope to spend a month with aunt."
"And how much time with us?" asked Hilland, eagerly.
"This evening."