“I was about to say that a friend of mine, just before the battle of Solferino, made fun of my aspirations, just as you do now——”
“I don’t do anything of the sort. Here’s the official document. If I read right, it says Major de Banyan.”
“Somers,” said the captain, winking very rapidly to dissipate some evidences of weakness which were struggling for existence in his eyes—“Somers, you have done this.”
“I did write to Senator Guilford about you before we went over the river; and now I thank God with all my soul that I did so.”
“Somers, you are one of the best of friends!” exclaimed the major as he stood with the unopened document in his hand.
“And so are you. Without you, I should have been in a rebel prison or under the sod at this time.”
“God bless you, Somers!” ejaculated De Banyan, as with trembling hand he opened the envelope, and took therefrom his major’s commission. “I have loved you just like a younger brother; not selfishly, my dear boy, but with my whole heart. You haven’t disappointed me, only once, when——”
“Don’t mention it. I thought you were a rebel then, but I repented.”
“I don’t blame you. Now, Somers, you are going home. May God bless you and keep you! I shall be as sad as a maiden who has lost her lover, while you are gone.”
“I shall not be absent long. We shall be together again in a few weeks.”