So spring came, and blade, leaf and flower sprang into beautiful and rejoicing existence. No one had ever before seen the orchard trees so superbly laden with blossoms. No one had ever before seen a brighter promise of a more bountiful season. And the country was still at peace, enriching herself with a mintage coined of blood and sorrow abroad, though drifting aimlessly and ever closer to the verge of war.
There was a time early in July when, for two weeks, no letter came from Pen. The suspense was almost unbearable. For days Colonel Butler haunted the post-office. His self-assurance left him, his confident and convincing voice grew weak, a haunting fear of what news might come was with him night and day.
At last he received a letter from abroad. It was from Pen, addressed in his own hand-writing. The colonel himself took it from his box at the post-office in the presence of a crowd of his neighbors and friends awaiting the distribution of their mail. It was scrawled in pencil on paper that had never been intended to be used for correspondence purposes.
Pen had just learned, he wrote, that the messenger who carried a former letter from the trenches for him had been killed en route by an exploding shell, and the contents of his mail pouch scattered and destroyed. Moreover he had been very busy. Fighting had been brisk, there had been a good many casualties in his company, but he himself, save for some superficial wounds received on the Fourth of July, was unhurt and reasonably well.
"I am sorry to report, however," the letter continued, "that my comrade, Aleck Sands, has been severely wounded. We were engaged in a brisk assault on the enemy's lines on the Fourth of July, and captured some of their trenches. During the engagement Aleck received a bayonet wound in the shoulder, and a badly battered knee. I was able to help him off the field and to an ambulance. I believe he is somewhere now in a hospital not far to the rear of us. I mean to see him soon if I can find out where he is and get leave. Tell his folks that he fought like a hero. I never saw a braver man in battle.
"You will be glad to learn that since the engagement on the fourth I have been made a sergeant, 'for conspicuous bravery in action,' the order read.
"I suppose the flag is flying on the school-house staff these days. How I would like to see it. If I could only see the Stars and Stripes over here, and our own troops under it, I should be perfectly happy. The longer I fight here the more I'm convinced that the cause we're fighting for is a just and glorious one, and the more willing I am to die for it.
"Give my dear love to Aunt Milly. I have just written to mother.
"Your affectionate grandson,
"Penfield Butler."
Colonel Butler looked up from the reading with moist eyes and glowing face, to find a dozen of his townsmen who knew that the letter had come, waiting to hear news from Pen.