What a change had come over the pale, grave face of the girl. Her cheeks and her lips were glowing with fire, her dark eyes were sparkling with light.
“What do you think of all this, my dear?” he inquired.
“Oh, father! I feel so happy! so happy! Le has distinguished himself! Le is the hero of the day! Thank Heaven! Oh, thank Heaven! We shall see Le in a few hours from this! See Le safe, well and honored! Thank Heaven! Oh, thank Heaven!”
Mr. Force looked at his wife. Her face was very pale and troubled.
“My dear Elfrida,” he said, “you let your sympathy for little Rosemary Hedge and her lover affect you without cause. I think there is no doubt the young man is now quite safe on board the Argente, on her way to the Washington Navy Yard. We shall land at New York about sunset. We shall leave our effects at the custom house and take the night express for the South. We shall reach Washington before the Argente gets there; but we shall wait for her, and as soon as she arrives we shall find both the boys safe—Leonidas and Roland—safe.”
“You are very, very good,” she replied, in a low tone.
“There is the gong for dinner. I have an appetite for the first time in ten days,” he said, gayly, as he drew his wife’s arm within his own to take her down.
At all the tables in the dining saloon nothing was discussed but the war news. Gen. Grant was slowly fighting his way on to Richmond, opposed by an army that was daily wasting away under toil, fever and privation, but who made up for want of numbers with indomitable courage, endurance and self-devotion.
After dinner the passengers all went up on deck to watch for the first glimpse of land.
Many had glasses, through which they looked long and wistfully to the westward, and then passed their instruments on from hand to hand among the less fortunate passengers who had none of their own.