At the mention of this name, Mildred covered her face with her hands, and the tears trickled through her fingers. "The Lord send it!" she repeated, after a moment's pause. "May He, in his mercy, come to our aid!" Then uncovering her face, and dropping on her knees beside her chair, she whispered a prayer for the success of those who had lately marched forth against the enemy.
When she arose from this posture, she went to the window, and there stood gazing out upon the quiet and unfrequented street, running over in her mind the perils to which her brother as well as Butler might be exposed, and summoning to her imagination the thousand subjects of solicitude, which her present state of painful expectation might be supposed to create or recall.
"We will set forth early to-morrow," she said, addressing herself to her companion, "so tell your father, Mary. We will follow the brave friends who have left us: I cannot be content to linger behind them. I will sleep in the lowliest hovel, or in the common shelter of the woods, and share all the dangers of the march, rather than linger here in this dreadful state of doubt and silence. Tell your father to make his preparations for our departure to-morrow: tell him I cannot abide another day in this place."
"I should think we might creep near them, ma'am," replied Mary, "near enough to see and hear what was going on—which is always a great satisfaction, and not get ourselves into trouble neither. I am sure my father would be very careful of us, and keep us out of harm's way, come what would. And it is distressing to be so far off, when you don't know what's going to turn up. I will seek my father—who I believe is over yonder with the troopers at the shop, talking to the blacksmith—I will go there and try to coax him to do your bidding. I know the troopers want it more than we do, and they'll say a word to help it along."
"Say I desire to have it so, Mary. I can take no refusal. Here I will not stay longer."
Mary left the apartment, and as she descended the steps, she fell into a rumination which arrested her progress full five minutes, during which she remained mute upon the stair-case. "No wonder the poor dear lady wishes to go!" was the ejaculation which came at last sorrowfully from her heart, with a long sigh, and at the same time tears began to flow: "no wonder she wants to be near Major Butler, who loves her past the telling of it. If John Ramsay was there," she added, sobbing, "I would have followed him—followed him—yes, if I died for it."