"What is that?" exclaimed Mrs. Mason, speaking for the first time since
they had come upon the field of conflict.
"Some one shouting for help," replied Colonel Winchester. "One could not
neglect him at such a time."
"No, that is so."
"It's the voice of Lieutenant Warner, colonel," whispered the sergeant.
Colonel Winchester nodded. "Say nothing as yet," he whispered.
They walked a dozen steps farther and the colonel, swinging high the
lantern, disclosed Warner sitting on the trunk of a tree that had been
cut through by cannon balls. Warner, as well as they could see, was not
wounded, but he seemed to be suffering from an overpowering weakness.
The colonel, the sergeant and the boy alike dreaded to see what lay
beyond the log, but the two women did not know Warner or that his
presence portended anything.
The Vermonter saw them coming, and raised his hand in a proper salute to
his superior officer. Then as they came nearer, and he saw the white
woman who came with them, he lifted his head, tried to straighten his
uniform a little with his left hand, and said as he bowed:
"I think this must be Mrs.
Pages:
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390