“That will be my talisman,” he said, kissing it reverently, and putting it in his inner pocket, “and will keep me from harm, please God.”
They talked until the night grew late and chill, and then he put his arms around her for a last good-bye. The winds shivered in the tops of the trees, and the whip-poor-wills ’way down by the brook were calling plaintively to each other, and the moon slipped under a cloud, and only the stars looked down and saw the sorrow that filled their brave young hearts.
They were gone, and Dorothy and Bobbie’s mother turned from the porch, from which they had watched as long as possible, and went inside, not daring to speak, lest all the long-controlled feeling they had been struggling to conceal should reveal itself at last.
They took up their new life courageously, and the influence of each was great, both in the home and in the neighborhood; but it was not long before trouble began to appear among the servants, and, as time went on, greater and greater discontent became evident.
It was not until news of the first battle reached them that the horror of it all made itself felt in full force to Dorothy. She had heard that a battle must take place soon; and when Bobbie’s letter came, telling her he hoped and prayed his regiment would have the honor of being allowed to go into the first fight, her heart sank in miserable misgivings.
She wrote him, however, that if he were sent into this battle, she knew the honor of old Rockland would be safe, and not by a single word did she tell him how torturing was the anxiety, or how, all night long, she had knelt at her window and prayed God to protect and keep him safe.
Not for ten days did she hear again, and then came such a battered and soiled old envelope that the address was almost unreadable. It was very short, and written in pencil on a scrap of paper torn from a note-book, and ran as follows:
“Dear Dorothy—We are drawn up in line of battle, facing the enemy, and waiting the signal to charge. I am using my cap to write on. I don’t know how it is going to be. I only know we are going to fight like our women expect us; and now, before it begins, I am trying to send you a word to tell you that the thought of you makes me dare all things. I am going to put this in my pocket. Peter Black knows what I want done in case I don’t send it myself. Tell mother she shall not be ashamed of her son. My love to her, and for you, little sweetheart, God bless you, and make me worthy of you!
“Bobbie.”
Peter Black found it in his pocket, where he had been directed to look; and though Bobbie declared it was only a scratch, it kept him close for a week, and Peter Black’s powers as a nurse were tested pretty well in that time.