The Governor heard his story.
“Dennis O’Hay,” said he, “when America achieves her liberty, and her true history shall be written, the inspired historian will see in such as you the cause of the mighty event. It is men who are willing to suffer and be forgotten that advance the welfare of mankind; it is not wealth or fame that lifts the world: it is sacrifice, sacrifice, sacrifice! That means you, Dennis O’Hay.
“Dennis, did you know that they once offered me the place of the colonial agent to London? They did, and I refused for the good of my own people at home. That is a sweet thing for me to remember. The only thing that a man can have in this world to last is righteous life. This is true, Dennis: that the private soldier who seeks all for his cause and nothing for himself is the noblest man in the annals of war, unless it be a Washington.”
“And you, Governor Trumbull.”
Dennis took off his hat and bowed low.
The Governor also took off his hat and bowed twice, and the people who had gathered around took off their hats and shouted.
“The stars will hear ye when ye shout for Brother Jonathan,” said Dennis O’Hay. “I have brought home a secret with me.”
“What may it be?” asked many.
“It would not be a secret were I to tell it.”
Dennis, after driving his army of cattle, with underdrivers, had entered lustily the place of the halted army of desolation. He had remained there until spring. He was greeted there one day by two men, one a tower of majestic manhood, the other a glittering young man of warm heart and enthusiasm; they were Washington and Lafayette.