“My dear wife Ethel:—Yesterday, June 10th, our company formed part of a detachment sent to dislodge the forces under General Magruder, which were stationed a few miles from here, in the vicinity of Bethel Church. The battle did not last long, but was quite severe. I was slightly wounded—nothing serious. Will report to my company for active service within a few hours. Have just learned that we completely routed the enemy, which was, of course, a most satisfactory termination of the engagement. Every man of the Twenty-ninth proved himself a hero, for, like myself, they were fighting for a great principle and for loved ones at home, and this made their services to their country a holy crusade.
“When our little Hugh—God bless him!—is older, teach him that his father was a soldier and a defender of hearthstones and of the glorious old stars and stripes. The Bethel Church encounter will doubtless go down in history as one of the most spirited engagements of the war.
“Affectionately your husband,
“Hugh Stanton.”
It required no small effort on the part of Captain Osborn to control his agitation at this marvelous revelation. However, he hastily prepared an opiate that had been left by the physician, and gave it to the wounded man, who soon after fell into a peaceful slumber. Then he moved nervously from the side of the cot, and approached Hugh.
“My boy,” said he, in a low, trembling voice, “what a revelation! Do you realize that this man is none other than your father?”
“I do,” faltered Hugh.
“Yes, and by the eternal,” the captain went on, “we will save him. To think I have failed to recognize my old lieutenant all these years is a piece of unpardonable stupidity on my part.”
Hugh’s head had been bowed in his hands, while his whole frame was convulsed with stifled sobs. When the captain ceased speaking, he stood up before him, and their hands closed in a fervent hand-clasp.
“God bless you, my old friend,” said Hugh, “you have nothing to condemn yourself for, but together we are confronting a great problem. Will he awake from his present sleep as John Horton, the cattle king, or as Hugh Stanton, my father?”