“Gets out? Of course it will get out. Everything one doesn’t want to get out, gets out; but yet we must go. Does not our high sense of duty require us to sacrifice our personal prejudices so far as to keep an eye on this first large assemblage of rebels?”
“Reely, you’re a genius,” said Middleton, in open admiration.
“Of course I am,” was the Lieutenant’s modest reply.
Formal notes of acceptance were sent, and the two young officers were soon as busy as anyone making their preparations for their “summer campaign,” as Thurston called it. Both ordered new boots, and Thurston a whole suit, for the occasion. Thurston, in the seclusion of their room, drilled Middleton sedulously in the Old Virginia reel, so as to astonish the native and, as he profanely termed it, “make sure of the capture of the fish Middleton had found in the ford.”
An evening or two later, the mail was brought in, and in it were two official letters for Middleton. As he read them, his face fell, and he flung them across to Thurston, who, as he glanced at them, gave an ejaculation hardly consistent with the high-church principles he so proudly vaunted.
One was an order forbidding, for the present, all public gatherings at night, under any guise whatever, except in churches; the other forbade the wearing of any Confederate uniform or garment forming part of a uniform, or, at least (as persons might not have any other clothes whatever), brass buttons, braid, chevrons, etc., which were the insignia of a uniform. These were to be cut off or covered. These were general orders, and the officers in command stationed throughout the country were directed to see them enforced.
“This comes of having a d—d tailor for President,” said the little Lieutenant. “I always did hate ’em; and to think I’ve ordered a new uniform for it too! Your wedding, Larry, will not come off as soon as I anticipated. Well, there’s one consolation; one tailor will have to wait some time.”
This view appeared to please the Lieutenant so much that, as he glanced over the orders again, he began to whistle, while the Captain looked on despondently. The whistling grew louder as Thurston read on, and he suddenly bounced up.