" said Francis. "It's our
beastly business now. Call up the men, Roland."

"Provost duty, I suppose," said Penhallow. "I prefer my mud."

"Yes," growled Francis, "human scavengers--army police. I'm out of it
this week, thank Heaven."

The last wagon came creaking over the bridge, the long line of cavalry
trotted after them, the Provost Guard mounted to fall in at the rear and
gather in the stragglers.

"Sorry I can't give you a mount," said Blake, as he turned to recross the
bridge.

"Thank you, I have a horse on the other side." As he spoke a breeze
stirred the dead atmosphere and shook down from the trees their gathered
load of dust.

Francis said, "It's half of Virginia!"

Blake murmured, "Dust to dust--a queer reminder."

"Oh, shut up!" cried Francis.

The young engineer laughed and said to himself, "If Aunt Ann could see
me. It's like being tarred and feathered. See you soon again, I hope, Mr.
Blake. I am deep in your debt." They passed out of sight. No one remained
but the bridge-guard.

The engineer sat down and devoted his entire energies to the difficult
task of pulling off boots full of mud and water. Meanwhile as the
provost-officers rode back over the pontoons Francis said, "I remember
that man, Penhallow, at the Bloody Angle. He was the only man I saw who
wasn't fight-crazy, he insisted on my going to the rear. You know I was
bleeding like a stuck pig. It was between the two attacks. I said, 'Oh,
go to H---!' He said, 'There is no need to go far.' I am sure he did not
remember me. A rather cool hand--West Point, of course."

"What struck me," said Blake, "was that he did not swear."

"Then," said Francis, "he is the only man in the army who would have
failed to damn those grinning troopers."

"Except Grant," said Blake.

"So they say.--It's hard to believe, but I suppose the Staff knows.
Wonder if Lee swears. Two army commanders who don't swear? It's
incredible!"

As Penhallow, left alone, tugged at a reluctant boot, he heard, "Good
Lord! Master John, that's my business."

He looked up to seize Josiah by the hand, exclaiming, "How did you get
here?--I am glad to see you. Pull off this boot. How are they all?"

"The Colonel he sent me."

"Indeed! How is he? I've not heard for a month."

"He's bad, Master John, bad--kind of forgets things--and swears."

"That's strange for him."

"The doctors they can't seem to make it out. He hasn't put a leg over a
horse, not since he was wounded