"
The proud face glowed. In the serene but fiery eyes I could read the
expression of an unchangeable resolution.
"Another friend of ours has sworn that too," he said.
"Who?"
"Mohun."
"And just married! His poor, young wife, like yours, is far from him."
"You are mistaken; she is near him. She went ahead of the army, and is
now at the village here."
"Is it possible? And where is Mohun?"
"He is holding the advance skirmish line, on the right of Gordon. Look!
Do you see that fire, yonder, glimmering through the woods? I left him
there half an hour since."
"I will go and see him. Do nothing rash, to-morrow, Mordaunt. Remember
that poor Old Virginia, if no one else, needs you yet!"
"Be tranquil, Surry," he replied, with a cool smile. "Farewell; we
shall meet at Philippi!"
And we parted with a pressure of the hand.
I rode toward the fire. Stretched on his cape, beside it, I saw the
figure of Mohun. He was reading in a small volume, and did not raise
his head until I was within three paces of him.
"What are you reading, Mohun?"
He rose and grasped my hand.
"The only book for a soldier," he said, with his frank glance and brave
smile--"the book of books, my dear Surry--that which tells us to do our
duty, and trust to Providence."
I glanced at the volume, and recognized it.
Pages:
664
665
666
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669
670
671
672
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