And Marion, too, had clung to him, so that going away became almost an impossibility, although he longed for the glories of a soldier's life, with never a thought of all the hardships and sufferings such a life entails.
The meeting with the Confederate surgeon had filled Jack's head once more with visions of army life, and as he continued to fish he forgot all about the unpleasant encounter, although he remembered that repulsive face well. He was destined to meet the surgeon again, and under most disagreeable circumstances.
"I wish mother would let me join the army," he thought, after hauling in another fish. "I am sure our regiments need all the men they can get. Somehow, we seem to be getting the worst of the fighting lately. I wonder what would happen if the South should be beaten in this struggle?"
Ten minutes passed, when a merry whistle was heard on the road and another boy appeared, of about Jack's age.
"Hullo, Darcy!" cried Jack. "Come to help me fish?"
"I didn't know you were fishing," answered Darcy Gilbert, a youth who lived on the plantation next to Jack. "Are you having good luck?"
"First-rate. I was getting ready to go home, but now you have come I'll stay a while longer."
"Do, Jack; I hate to fish alone. But I say, Jack——" And then Darcy broke off short.
"What were you going to say?"
"Oh, nothing!"