I had seen it in the hands
of Georgia Conway, at Five Forks. On the fly leaf, which was open, her
name was written.
"That is _her_ Bible," I said, "and doubtless you have just parted with
her."
"Yes, I see you know that she is here, not far from me."
"Mordaunt told me. It must be a great delight to you, Mohun."
He smiled, and sighed.
"Yes," he replied, "but a sort of sorrow, too."
"Why a sorrow?"
Mohun was silent. Then he said:---
"I think I shall fall to-morrow."
"Absurd!" I said, trying to laugh, "Why should you fancy such a thing?"
"I am not going to surrender, Surry. I swore to Chambliss, my old
comrade, that I would never surrender, and he swore that to me. He was
killed in Charles City--he kept his word; I will not break mine,
friend."
My head sank. I had taken my seat on Mohun's cape, and gazed in silence
at the fire.
"That is a terrible resolution, Mohun," I said at length.
"Yes," he replied, with entire calmness, "especially in me. It is hard
to die, even when we are old and sorrowful--when life is a burden. Men
cling to this miserable existence even when old age and grief have
taken away, one by one, all the pleasures of life. Think, then, what it
must be to die in the flush of youth, and health, and happiness! I am
young, strong, happy beyond words.
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