"I'm sick of this war!" answered Private Mallon soberly.
Through the hot kitchen, where the cook had ceased his work, up the narrow stairs, they carried Emmeline to her room, and there, without waking her, laid her gently upon her bed.
"Couldn't she be got out of this?" asked Private Mallon.
Private Christy shook his head. "Not nohow," said he.
Private Mallon returned to his sleep on the grass, Private Christy to his seat on the porch steps. Far away to the west there was a sudden, indefinable suggestion of a great body of men marching. Private Christy heard it and shook his head; Private Mallon nudged his neighbor.
"More coming," he said, and turned on his side.
All about on the daisies of the field lay the great carpet of sleeping men. Everyone got some sleep that night. Those who dug pits in which to lie half hidden on the morrow, or who threw up semi-circular walls of earth or timber to shelter the great cannon, gave pick and shovel after a while to others, roused from sleep, and threw themselves down near where they had been working.
Later in the night Private Christy lay down on the porch floor and slept heavily and comfortably.
Meanwhile to the rear of the great army pressed on another great army, which, being assigned its place, lay down also. The time between sunset and sunrise in early July is short enough even for those who are not exhausted by long marches.
On the ridge, officers riding back and forth in the bright moonlight marked positions and looked speculatively across at that other parallel ridge, which takes its name from the Evergreen Cemetery near one end. Far to the north, where the heavy cannonading had been, ambulances traveled the fields, guided by a whimper or a groan of pain. The greatest general of all, whom Private Christy had promised Emmeline she might see, rode about on his white horse studying the victory won, planning fresh victory for to-morrow. Thus, rapidly enough, the night waned.