The night came down warm and heavy. Spring was far advanced in that Southern region, and foliage and grass were already rich and heavy. Dick, from his dozing position beside a camp fire, saw a great mass of tall grass and green bushes beyond which lay the deep waters of a still creek or bayou. The air, although thick and close, conduced to rest and the peace that reigned after the battle was soothing to his soul.
His friends, the two lads, who were knitted to him by so many hardships and dangers shared, were sound asleep, and he could see their tanned faces when the light of the flickering fires fell upon them. Good old Warner! Good old Pennington! The comradeship of war knitted youth together with ties that never could be broken.
He moved into an easier position. He lay upon the soft turf and he had doubled his blanket under his head as a pillow. At first the droning noises of camp or preparation had come from afar, but soon they ceased and now the frogs down by the sluggish waters began to croak.
It was a musical sound, one that he had heard often in his native state, and, singularly enough, the lad drew encouragement from it. “Be of good cheer! Be of good cheer! Trust in the future! Trust in the future!” said all those voices down among the swamps and reeds. And then Dick said to himself: “I will trust and I will have hope!” He remembered his last glimpse of Grant's short, strong figure and the confidence that this man inspired in him. He, with tens of thousands of others, Abraham Lincoln at their head, had been looking for a man, they had looked long and in vain for such a man, but Dick was beginning to believe that they had found him at last.
It would take much of a man to stand before the genius of Lee, but it might be Grant. Dick's faith in the star of his country, shattered so often for the moment, began to rise that night and never sank again.
He fell asleep to the homely music of the frogs among the reeds, and slept without stir until nearly dawn.
Just as the first strip of gray showed in the east Colonel Winchester walked toward the spot where Dick and his comrades lay. The colonel had not slept that night. His fine face was worn and thin, but the blue eyes were alight with strength and energy. He had just left a conference of high officers, and he came upon a mission. He reached the three lads, and looked down at them with a sort of pity. He knew that it was his duty to awake them at once and send them upon a perilous errand, but they were so young, and they had already been through so much that he hesitated.
He put his hand upon Dick's shoulder and shook him. But it took more than one shake to awaken the lad, and it was fully a minute before he opened his eyes and sat up. Dick conscious but partly and rubbing his sleepy eyes, asked:
“What is it? Are we to go into battle again? Yes, sir! Yes, sir! I'm ready!”
“Not that, Dick, but I've orders for you.”