"St. Clair, we're about to go into a great battle, and I've felt for some time that I provoked the quarrel with you. I'm sorry and I apologize."
St. Clair looked astonished, but he was not one to refuse so manly an advance.
"That's so, Captain, we did have a quarrel," he said, "but I had forgotten it. It's not necessary for anybody to apologize where there's no rancor."
He took Bertrand's hand in a hearty grasp, which Bertrand returned with equal vigor. Then the captain pushed his horse and rode a little ahead of them.
"Now, that was a singular thing," said Dalton, who came of a deeply religious family, "and to my mind it was predestined."
"Predestined?"
"Yes, predestined! Decreed! Captain Bertrand is going to die. He'll be killed in the coming battle. He was moved to make up the quarrel which he forced on St. Clair because of his approaching fate, although he does not know of it himself."
"Come, come, George! So much battle has keyed your mind too highly."
But Dalton shook his head and remained resolute in his belief.
Harry's confidence returned with action and the glorious flush of a May morning. They had started after dawn. A splendid sun was rising in a sky of satin blue. It even gilded the somber foliage of the Wilderness, and the spirits of all the men in the great corps rose.