t we have got is
about three thousand prisoners, and all their forts and quarters, which
we call a pretty good bag."

The boys forgot their wounds, they forgot their dead and dying comrades,
listening to this recital. But short-lived was the enthusiasm of one, at
least. Scarce was Gray gone, when Frank saw four men with a stretcher,
bringing upon it a grizzled, pallid old man.

"O, Mr. Sinjin! O, my dear, dear friend! You too!"

"Is it my boy?" said the veteran, with a wan smile. "Yes, I too! They
have done for me, I fear."

"But nobody told me. How--where----" The boy's grief choked his voice.

"An impertinent cannon-ball interrupted my conversation with Mr.
Egglestone," said the old man, stifling his agony as the men removed him
to a cot. "And took a--" he groaned in spite of himself--"a greedy
mouthful out of my side--that's all."

Frank knew not what to say or what to do, he was so overcome.

"There, my boy," said the old man, to comfort him, "no tears for me! It
is enough to see you again. They told me you were hurt--" looking at the
lad's disabled arm. "I am glad it is no worse." And the wan veteran
smiled content.

Frank, with his one hand, smoothed the pillow under the old gray head,
struggling hard to keep back his sobs as he did so.

"Who is my neighbor there?" Mr. Sinjin cheerfully asked.

"Atwater," Frank managed to articulate.

"Is it? I am sorry! A bad wound?"

"The bullet went through a Bible he carried, then into his breast, beyond
the reach of surgery, I am afraid," Mr. Egglestone answered for Frank.
"He lies in a stupor, just alive."

"Poor fellow!" said Mr. Sinjin, feelingly. "If Death must have one of us,
let him for once be considerate, and take me. Atwater is young, just
married,--he needs to live; but I--I am not of much account to any body,
and can just as well be spared as not."

"O, no, O, no!" sobbed Frank; "I can't spare you! I can't let you die!"

"My boy," said the old man, deeply affected, "I would like to tarry a
little longer in the world, if only for your sake. You have done so much
for me--so much more than you can ever know! You have brought back to my
old heart more of its youth and freshness than it had felt for years. I
thank God for it. I thank you, my dear boy."

With these words still ringing in his ear, Frank was taken away by the
thoughtful Mr. Egglestone and compelled to lie down.

"You must not agitate the old man, and you need repose yourself, Frank.
I