Again she lifted her head proudly. “Yes, to the uttermost, Jeff! For that way only can your eyes be opened!”
He was gone, and she sat alone in the arbor, with her lilacs pressed to her bosom, and listened as the strains of martial music came to her ears. It was a band playing, downtown, where volunteers were being drilled. She could hear the tramp of feet, the rattle of musketry, and the words of command.
Louder and louder the sound seemed to grow in her ears until it became the booming of unnumbered cannon and the tramp, tramp, tramp of a million men. The smoke of battle dimmed her eyes and all around her she seemed to hear the cries and groans of mangled and dying men. With white lips she whispered to herself, “With bloody sweat and stripes we must pay—it is God’s law!”
Slowly her features relaxed, and presently, with a tender smile curving her lips, she buried her face in the lilac blooms. For the awful sights and sounds had faded away and she had seen a vision of the afterward.
THE END
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:
Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.
Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.
Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.