gess gave his horse to the older one, and
Berkley took the other up behind him, where she sat sideways
clutching his belt, white coiffe aflutter, feet dangling.

At noon the regiment halted for forage and rations procured from a
waggon train which had attempted to cross their line of march. The
rain ceased: a hot sun set their drenched clothing and their
horses' flanks steaming. At two o'clock they resumed their route;
the ragged, rain-blackened pennons on the lance heads dried out
scarlet; a hot breeze set in, carrying with it the distant noise of
battle.

All that afternoon the heavy sound of the cannonade jarred their
ears. And at sunset it had not ceased.

Berkley's Sister of Charity clung to his belt in silence for a
while. After a mile or two she began to free her mind in regard to
the distressing situation of her companion and herself. She
informed Berkley that the negro drivers had become frightened and
had cut the traces and galloped off; that she and the other Sister
were on their way to the new base at Azalea Court House, where
thousands of badly wounded were being gathered from the battles of
the last week, and where conditions were said to be deplorable,
although the hospital boats had been taking the sick to Alexandria
as fast as they could be loaded.

She was a gentle little thing, with ideas of her own concerning the
disaster to the army which was abandoning thousands of its wounded
to the charity and the prisons of an enemy already too poor to feed
and clothe its own.

"Some of our Sisters stayed behind, and many of the medical staff
and even the contract surgeons remained. I hope the rebels will be
gentle with them. I expected to stay, but Sister Aurelienne and I
were ordered to Azalea last night. I almost cried my eyes out when
I left our wounded. The shells were coming into the hospital
yesterday, and one of them killed two of our wounded in the straw.
Oh, it was sad and terrible. I am sure the rebels didn't fire on
us on purpose. Do you think so?"

"No, I don't. Were you frightened, Sister."

"Oh, yes," she said naively, "and I wished I could run into the
woods and hide."

"But you didn't?"

"Why, no, I couldn't," she said, surprised.

The fever in his wound was making him light-headed. At intervals
he imagined that it was Ailsa seated behind him, her arms around
his waist, her breath cool and fragrant on his neck; and still he
knew she was a phantom born of fever, and da