s so sudden. I was startled." She turned away
with a quick movement of annoyance, releasing herself from Leila's arm.
"Let's go home. Oh, my God!" she cried, as once again the cannon-roar
shook the leaves on the upward slope before them. "It is the voice of
war. Can I never get away from it--never--never?"

"You will not be troubled again to-day," said the girl, "and the smaller
guns on the further meadow we hardly notice at the house."

Ann's steps quickened. She had been scared at her own realization of
her want of self-government and was once more in command of her emotions.
"Do not talk to me, Leila. I was quite upset--I am all right now."

The great guns were sent away next day on their errands of destruction.
Then the two lonely women waited as the whole country waited for news
which whatever it might be would carry grief to countless homes.

On the second day of July, 1863, under a heavy cloud of dust which hung
high in air over the approach of the Baltimore Pike to Gettysburg, the
long column of the reserve artillery of the Potomac army rumbled along
the road, and more and more clearly the weary men heard the sound of
cannon. About ten in the morning the advance guard was checked and the
line came to a halt. James Penhallow, who since dawn had been urging on
his command, rode in haste along the side of the cumbered road to where a
hurrying brigade of infantry crossing his way explained why his guns were
thus brought to a standstill. He saw that he must wait for the foot
soldiers to go by. The cannoneers dismounted from the horses or dropped
off the caissons, and glad of a rest lit their pipes and lay down or
wandered about in search of water.

The Colonel, pleased to be on time, was in gay good-humour as he talked
to the men or listened to the musketry fire far to the left. He said to a
group of men, "We are all as grey as the Rebs, boys, but it is good
Pennsylvania dust." As he spoke a roar of laughter was heard from the
neighbourhood of the village cemetery on his right. He rode near it and
saw the men gathered before an old notice board. He read: "Any person
found using fire arms in this vicinity will be prosecuted according to
law." Penhallow shook with laughter. "Guess we'll have to be right
careful, Colonel," said a sergeant.

"You will, indeed."

"It's an awful warning, boys," said a private. "Shouldn't wonder if Bob
Lee set it up to scare us."

"I'd like to take it home." They chaffed the passing