Glancing up, I saw a benevolent-looking old gentleman and a pair of spectacles. I closed my eyes and heard the gentleman with the familiar face say such beautiful things, and his voice and touch thrilled my heart so that I kept my eyes shut and never wanted to open them again; and presently the pretty girl with the cap on came in with baby in her arms, dressed in a beautiful robe.
"Ze petite enfant—very much no hungry now—he eat très pap—he sleep—he wash—he dress—he eat très much. He no hungry; he eat some more très much again. He smile; he now no very much hungry again some more."
Was I in the land of fairies, and was the gentleman with the familiar face the prince of fairies, as he was the prince of lovers? Our baby's outstretched arms and cry for me as he recognized me dispelled any such delusion, but I was too tired to hold out my hands to him. I soon felt his little face, however, nestling close against my own, and felt, too, the touch of yet another face, and heard the same voice which had made my heart thrill with bliss whisper again more things like unto those other things it had whispered, but I was too tired and too happy to speak, and my blessings seemed too sacred to open my eyes upon, so I kept them closed. When the old English physician came in the next day he said:
"Ah, ha! Ah, ha! The lady is most well. Keep on feeding her and sleeping her. She is half-starved, poor lady, and half-dazed, too, by sleeplessness. Ah, ha! Ah, ha! Poor lady! That will do—feed her and sleep her; feed her and sleep her. Ah, ha! Ah, ha! that's all."
When the old doctor was gone I remember listening for the tread of the sentinel outside—confusing the "ah, ha! ah, ha!" with the tramp, tramp, tramp—and as I asked, the question brought back the memory that the war was over, the guns were stacked, the camp was broken, and my Soldier of the sweet face was all my very own. I looked around inquiringly and up into the familiar face for answer, and he, my Soldier, a General no longer, explained our pleasant surroundings. His old friends, Mr. and Mrs. James Hutton, he said, had been suddenly summoned to England, and had prayed him, as a great favor to them, to be their guest until their return, as otherwise the delay to make the necessary arrangements for their going would prevent their catching the first steamer. Thus we had a beautiful home in which to rest, to grow well and strong, to forget all that could be forgotten of the past, and to enjoy the present.
While in Canada we received letters telling us of the troubles that had come upon our people after the close of the war, but the saddest news was of the suffering of Mr. Davis for whole generations of national mistakes. Captain Bright, who had served on my Soldier's staff, wrote that, through his kinsman, the surgeon in charge of Fortress Monroe, he had been permitted to see Mr. Davis.
He arrived at the Fortress on the morning that the fetters had been removed from the ankles of the feeble old man by order of the physician, because they endangered the life of one so ill and weak, and was told by the surgeon that the only way for him to see Mr. Davis was to accompany the surgeon on his rounds, when he could see all the patients, the ex-President among the rest.
The captain followed the surgeon until he came to the imprisoned chief. The face of Mr. Davis was turned from the door and the visitor stood for a moment silently observing the great change in the man whom he had last seen as the President of the Confederacy. Then he stepped forward and laid his hand on the arm of Mr. Davis.
"Mr. President!" he said reverently.
Mr. Davis looked up quickly.