"Yes. There are some upstairs now!" cried Emmeline.
"In my house!" exclaimed Grandmother Willing. "In my beds!" Grandmother Willing's youthfulness was apparent in the speed with which she started up the stairs. "I'll 'rebel' them!"
Those below waited. They could trust her to do nothing violent.
"Oh, you poor, poor souls!" cried Grandmother Willing abovestairs.
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""YES," ANSWERED MRS. WILLING. "BERTHA IS ASLEEP UPSTAIRS"
An ambulance driver who was making a journey to Gettysburg now offered to take Henry and Emmeline home. Henry must join his company as soon as possible, and the best way to find them was to go to Gettysburg, where he could doubtless get information about their position. He was heavily oppressed by anxiety and alarm, and could hardly wait until the driver received his orders to start.
Along the wooded ridge the ambulance traveled; Henry sat in the seat with the driver, Emmeline in the body of the wagon. There was no road; they made their way round shattered cannon, wrecked caissons, and far sadder remnants of the great battle. They passed close by the seminary building, where the Union soldiers had first camped. It was five o'clock on Sunday afternoon, the most peaceful hour of the week; but Gettysburg's streets were thronged with soldiers, mounted and on foot. Citizens were on their doorsteps. This Sunday was a day not of rest, but of rejoicing.
Suddenly Emmeline saw twinkling in the breeze before her a bit of color, and her pale cheeks flushed. From windows and doorposts floated once more Gettysburg's flag—the stars of white on a field of blue, the stripes of red and white.