“He is neither killed nor wounded. I know that much. Is not that enough?”
“Yes, thank God!
“Oh, general! I wish this war was over!” I said again.
“I, too, my child!” He spoke with more than Stuart’s sadness and gravity, then, remembering himself, he added quickly in his own cheery fashion, “But we’ve got to whip these Yankees first!”
He finished his cup of coffee (the kind in common use, made of corn which had been roasted, parched, and ground), and then went on telling me about Dan.
“He has borne himself gallantly, as he always does, and as you know without my telling you. I don’t know where he is, but he will be along presently.”
And at that moment Dan walked in, without a coat, and with the rest of that new uniform a perfect fright. He was covered with dust and ashes and gunpowder, and he looked haggard and jaded. He sat down between General Stuart and me, too tired to talk; but after eating some supper, he felt better, and began discussing the battle and relating some incidents. He took a card out of his pocket and handed it to General Stuart.
“A Federal officer who is about done for, poor fellow, handed me that just now. I don’t know the name. He couldn’t talk.”
“I do!” General Stuart exclaimed, with quick, strong interest. “Where did you see him? This is the name of one of my classmates at West Point.”
“I saw him on the roadside as I came on to supper. While riding along I heard a strange sound, something like a groan, yet different from any groan I ever heard—the strangest, most uncanny sound imaginable. I dismounted and began to look around for it, and I found a Yankee soldier lying in a ditch by the roadside. I couldn’t see that any legs or arms were broken, nor that he was wounded at all. I felt him all over, and asked what was the matter. He didn’t speak, and I saw that he had been trying to direct my attention to his face. He tried very hard to speak, but only succeeded in emitting the strange sound I had heard before; and on examining his face closely, and moving the whiskers aside, I found that he was shot through both jaws. He made the same noise again, put his hand in his pocket, and gave me this card, with another pitiful effort to speak. I put my coat under his head, laid some brush across the ditch to hide him, and promised to go back for him in an ambulance.”