t ends your labors for the day, Lieutenant Kenton. Come in now and
join us."

He picked up the child again, and carrying it in his arms, led the way
into an inner room, where he gave it to a nurse. Then they passed into
the library, where Dr. Graham, several generals and two or three of
Winchester's citizens were gathered.

All gave Harry a welcome. He knew them well, and he looked around with
satisfaction at the large room, with its rows and rows of books, bound
mostly in dark leather, volumes of theology, history, essays, poetry,
and of the works of Walter Scott and Jane Austen. Jackson himself was a
rigid Presbyterian, and he and Dr. Graham had many a long talk in this
room on religion and other topics almost equally serious.

But to-night they were in a bright mood. A mountaineer had come in with
four huge wild turkeys, which he insisted upon giving to General Jackson
himself, and guests had been asked in to help eat them.

Nearly twenty people sat around the minister's long table. The turkeys,
at least enough for present needs, were cooked beautifully, and all the
succulent dishes which the great Virginia valleys produce so fruitfully
were present. General Jackson himself, at the request of the minister,
said grace, and he said it so devoutly and so sincerely that it always
impressed the hearers with a sense of its reality.

It was full dusk and the rain was beating on the windows, when the black
attendants began to serve the guests at the great board. Several
ladies, including the general's wife, were present. The room was lighted
brilliantly, and a big fire burned in the wide fireplace at the end.
To Harry, three seats away from General Jackson, there was a startling
contrast between the present moment and that swift campaign of theirs
through the wintry mountains where the feet of the soldiers left bloody
trails on the ice and snow.

It was a curious fact that for a few instants the mountain and the great
cold were real and this was but fancy. He looked more than once at the
cheerful faces and the rosy glow of the fire, before he could convince
himself that he was in truth here in Winchester, with all this comfort,
even luxury, around him.

Sitting next to him was a lady of middle age, Mrs. Howard, of prominence
in the town and a great friend of the Grahams. Harry realized suddenly
that while the others were talking he had said nothing, and he felt
guilty of discourtesy. He began an apology, but Mrs. Howa