"Minute guns, Josiah. Have you heard the news?"
"Yes, sir—it's awful; but we are going home to Westways."
CHAPTER XXX
As the trains went northward crowded with more or less damaged officers and men, John Penhallow in his faded engineer uniform showed signs of renewed vitality. He chatted in his old companionable way with the other home-bound volunteers, and as they went through Baltimore related to McGregor with some merriment his bloodless duel with Mrs. Penhallow's Rebel brother Henry. The doctor watched him with the most friendly satisfaction and with such pride as a florist may have in his prospering flowers. The colour of health was returning to the pale face and there was evidently relief from excessive pain. He heard, too, as they chatted, of John's regrets that his simple engineer dress was not as neat as he would have desired and of whether his aunt would dislike it. Wearing the station of Westways Crossing, John fell into a laughing account of his first arrival and of the meeting with Leila. The home-tonic was of use and he was glad with gay gladness that the war was over.
As the train stopped, he said as he got out, "There is no carriage—you telegraphed, McGregor?"
"Yes, I did, but the service is, I fancy, snowed under just now with messages. I will walk on and have them send for you."
"No," said John, "I am quite able to walk. Come along."
"Are you really able?"
"Yes—we'll take it easy."
"There isn't much left of you to carry what remains."