Langdon darted forward and seized his letter.
"It's from my father," he said as he glanced at the superscription, although it was half hidden from him by a mist that suddenly appeared before his eyes.
"Here, Tom, stand behind us and read it," said Harry, who was waiting in an anxiety that was positively painful for a letter to himself.
"Henry Lawton, Pender's brigade," called the major. "This is from a girl, too, and there is a photograph inside. I can feel it. Wish I could get such a letter myself, Henry."
Lawton, his letter in his hand, retreated rapidly amid envious cheers.
"Charles Carson, Lane's brigade."
"Dead at Fredericksburg, sir; I helped to bury him."
"Thomas Carstairs, Field's brigade."
"Killed at the Second Manassas, sir."
"Richard Graves, Archer's brigade."