Serrurier, at a grander than Castiglone, he gave the signal to begin;
and as a sheet of flame flashed along the sombre forests of Chickahominy,
the nation held its breath, and watched the brilliant Seven Days' conflict,
which converted twenty-six miles of swamp and forest into a vast
necropolis.

During Friday the wounded came slowly in, and at four in the afternoon the
roar of artillery told that the Battle of Gaines Mill was raging: that the
enemy were fighting desperately, behind entrenchments which none but
Confederate soldiers could successfully have assaulted. Until eight at
night the houses trembled at every report of cannon, and then McClellan's
grand army, crippled and bleeding, dragged itself away, under cover of
darkness, to the south bank of the Chickahominy. Saturday saw a temporary
lull in the iron storm; but the wounded continued to arrive, and the
devoted women of the city rose from their knees to minister to the needs of
these numerous sufferers. Sunday found our troops feeling about the swamps
for the retreating foe; and once more, late in the afternoon, distant
thunder resounded from the severely contested field of Savage's Station,
whence the enemy again retreated.

On Sabbath morning Irene learned that Russell's command had joined in the
pursuit; and during that day and night, as the conflict drifted farther
southward, and details became necessarily more meagre, her anxiety
increased. Continually her lips moved in prayer, as she glided from
Electra's silent room to aid in dressing the wounds of those who had been
disabled for further participation in the strife; and, as Monday passed
without the receipt of tidings from Dr. Arnold, she indulged in the hope
that Russell would escape uninjured. During Tuesday morning Electra seemed
to have recovered her consciousness, but in the afternoon she relapsed into
incoherent muttering of "Cuyp," "Correggio," "Titian's Bella," and "my best
great picture left in Florence."

Irene was sitting at her bedside, rolling bandages, when the sudden,
far-distant, dull boom of cannon, followed by the quick rattling of the
window-panes, gave intimation that the long contest was fiercely renewed. A
courier had arrived from Malvern Mill with intelligence that here the
enemy's forces were very strongly posted, were making desperate resistance;
and though no doubt of the result was entertained, human nature groaned
over the carnage.

At ten o'clock, having given a potion,