"Well, did you die?"
He burst into uproarious laughter, and replied:
"No, but I'm blamed if I wouldn't, if you hadn't come along."
I passed on, left him leaning against the wall finishing his laugh, and saw or heard of him no more.
It was but a few days after he passed out of my knowledge that news came of the death of Gen. Lowrie. It was the old story, "the great man down," for he died in poverty and neglect, but with his better self in the ascendent. His body lies in an unmarked grave, in that land where once his word was law.
Pondering on his death, I thought of that country boy going to his father's house, with the life restored by one he knew not, even by name, and the going home of that mature man, who thought he knew my inmost soul, and with whose political death I was charged. Only the wisdom of eternity can determine which, if either, I served or injured. To the one, life may lack blessing, to the other, death be all gain.
CHAPTER LXVI.
MEET MISS DIX AND GO TO FREDERICKSBURG.
I sat down stairs, for the first time after a two weeks' illness, when
Georgie Willets, of Jersey City, came in, saying:
"Here is a pass for you and one for me, to go to Fredericksburg! A boat leaves in two hours, and we must hurry!"