”’O, sir!’ she said to me, with her cheeks all wet, ‘did you think enough of his grave to take keer of it; let me reward you.’ And b’fore I could speak she put that money in my hand. I run up to the carriage as she got in, and tole her I did not want her money, but they drove off without saying any more.”
”Do you know where they went to, and did she call the officer’s name?” I asked, intensely interested in what he had related.
”No; but I went to town next day, and saw ’em going off on the train, and the man had a han’ trunk marked New York.”
”Poor Lulie!” I murmured; ”would to Heaven I could find her.”
The train was standing at the depot as we drove up, and I had to hurry to get on. Ben followed me into the car, and, taking my hand, said:
”Good bye, John, for I can’t call you Mr. Smith, like I orter. Remember one thing, no matter where you go or who you see you’ll never find anybody to think any more of you than Ben. I didn’t have much religion to start with, and the war spilled what I did have out; but if I ever do get to the good place I’d like to see you there, for it won’t seem natchurel without you.”
The train moved off and he was gone—a true, tried old heart.
There was one more duty, a sacred one, for me to perform before our departure. I must bring my father’s remains from the enemy’s land, and let them rest in the soil he had died for. I found no difficulty in identifying his grave at Elmira, owing to the clear and distinct manner in which it had been marked by Mr. P., the agent referred to; and taking up the rude prison coffin, I had it enclosed as it was, without being opened, in a large metallic case, and thus brought it home.
Mother had given up her desire to have him buried under the old cedar, as she knew his grave would be neglected when we had passed away, and the property had fallen into strangers’ hands, as it inevitably must some time in the future. So we carried his remains to the cemetery, and in the hazy autumn evening, while the sinking sun was mellowed by the purple mists, we laid him beneath the still green turf, where the yellow leaves were falling, in ”whispers to the living,” one by one upon his grave.