way for them, and closing in behind,
stretched in solid array about the scene.

"It's not Jack," said the boy; but something in the look of the dying
man drew him on to kneel in the mud. "Is it _you_, Jack? Oh, now I
know you! Jack, I'm Harry! don't you know me? I'm Harry--your brother
Harry."

The Southern soldier stared rigidly at the boy, seeming to grow paler
with the recollections that he struggled for.

"_What's_ your name?" he asked very faintly.

"Harry Wallbridge--I'm your brother."

"Harry Wallbridge! Why, I'm _John_ Wallbridge. Did you say Harry? _Not
Harry!_" he shrieked hoarsely. "No; Harry's only a little fellow!" He
paused, and looked meditatively into the boy's eyes. "It's nearly five
years I've been gone,--he was near twelve then. Boys," lifting his
head painfully and casting his look slowly round upon his comrades, "I
know him by the eyes; yes, he's my brother! Let me speak to him
alone--stand back a bit," and at once the men pushed backward into the
form of a wide circle.

"Put down your head, Harry. Kiss me! Kiss me again!--how's mother? Ah,
I was afraid she might be dead--don't tell her I'm dead, Harry." He
groaned with the pain of the groin wound. "Closer, Harry; I've got to
tell you this first--maybe it's all I've time to tell. Say,
Harry,"--he began to gasp,--"they didn't ought to have killed me, the
Union soldiers didn't. I never fired--high enough--all these years.
They drafted me, Harry--tell mother that--down in New Orleans--and
I--couldn't get away. Ai--ai! how it hurts! I must die soon 's I can
tell you. I wanted to come home--and help father--how's poor father,
Harry? Doing well now? Oh. I'm glad of that--and the baby? there's a
new baby! Ah, yes, I'll never see it, Harry."

His eyes closed, the pain seemed to leave him, and he lay almost
smiling happily as his brother's tears fell on his muddy and
blood-clotted face. As if from a trance his eyes opened, and he spoke
anxiously but calmly.

"You'll be sure to tell them I was drafted--conscripted, you
understand. And I never fired at any of us--of you--tell all the boys
_that_." Again the flame of life went down, and again flickered up in
pain.

"Harry--you'll stay by father--and help him, won't you? This cruel
war--is almost over. Don't cry. Kiss me. Say--do you remember--the old
times we had--fishing? Kiss me again, Harry--brother in blue--you're
on--_my_ side. Oh I wish--I had time--to tell you. Come close--put
your arms aro