“I hope so. I have no home now. It has been desolated by treason. I heard since I came over that my wife was dead. I had a son, a boy of fifteen; I know not where he is. Well, well; I will not groan or complain. I will do my duty to my country, and that shall cheer my heart;” and with an effort of his powerful will, he banished the sad reflections from his mind, and smiled as though earth had no sorrows. “After the battle of Magenta, I had the blues, and——”
“One word, De Banyan. Were you at the battle of Magenta?” said Somers solemnly.
The major looked on the ground, at the commission he had just received, and then into the sympathizing face of his friend.
“To tell the truth, Somers, I was not; but I fought in every battle in Mexico, from Vera Cruz up to the capital.”
Somers improved this opportunity to repeat the injunction of the general.
“Now promise me, major, that you will never say Magenta or anything of the sort again as long as you live,” added Somers.
“That would be a rash promise. I have got a bad habit, and I will try to cure myself of it. On my soul I will, my dear boy!”
In the course of the conversation the major, who was now in a truth-telling mood, informed Somers that he had, after his escape from the rebel army, enlisted in the regular army, where he had been made a sergeant, and, through the influence of a Massachusetts officer, had been commissioned as a captain. His gallantry had won a swift reward.
On the following day they parted on board the transport in the river; and in that sad hour the friendship which, though brief in duration, had been fruitful enough for a lifetime, was pledged for the future. They parted, De Banyan to mingle in the terrible scenes in which the regiment was engaged before the close of the month, and Somers to bask in the smiles of the loved ones at home. Alick, who had been regularly installed as the captain’s servant, went with him.