“Your wife!” exclaimed a dozen voices at once.
“Yes, my wife! Hitched to me tighter’n a handle to the jug, by Chaplain Disbrow, two days ago, by the eternal jingo!”
This was enough for the men. All order gave way before the hilarious uproar which followed. They pressed around Sally to offer their congratulations, which the delighted wife received with great good-nature and dignity, still sitting where she had been left—behind the saddle, on the horse.
At this moment the party first descried rode up. It was composed of Mrs. Hinton, Miss Morton and a number of friends eager to welcome the captain and his sister, of whose fortunes Nettleton had most unexpectedly, three days before, brought the news to camp. That it was a joyous meeting may well be assumed.
Does not our story here end? To say that Miss Mamie Hayward soon became Mrs. Wells, in the presence of the whole division—that a grand gala-day followed—is but half the truth, however; for, at the same time, another bridegroom was there in the form of the pale but happy Captain Henry Hayward, who took to be his comforter and his much-needed nurse, the woman who loved him most truly—Miss Nettie Morton. It was, indeed, a most happy consummation of a drama which promised, at one time, to end only in sorrow and broken hearts.
Not the least happy of all that throng, nor the least noted, was
Nettleton, the Captain’s Body-Guard.