night to relieve his
pain. It will all blow over. I'm happy now that I have seen you. Ben will
be up in a few days. You must return at once. You have no idea of the wild
chaos at home. I left Jake in charge. I have implicit faith in him, but
there's no telling what may happen. I will not spend another moment in
peace until you go."

The proud old man spoke of his own danger with easy assurance. He was
absolutely certain, since the day of Mrs. Surratt's execution, that he
would be railroaded to the gallows by the same methods. He had long looked
on the end with indifference, and had ceased to desire to live except to
see his loved ones again.

In vain she warned him of danger.

"My peril is nothing, my love," he answered quietly. "At home, the horrors
of a servile reign of terror have become a reality. These prison walls do
not interest me. My heart is with our stricken people. You must go home.
Our neighbour, Mr. Lenoir, is slowly dying. His wife will always be a
child. Little Marion is older and more self-reliant. I feel as if they are
our own children. There are so many who need us. They have always looked
to me for guidance and help. You can do more for them than any one else.
My calling is to heal others. You have always helped me. Do now as I ask
you."

At last she consented to leave for Piedmont on the following day, and he
smiled.

"Kiss Ben and Margaret for me and tell them that I'll be with them soon,"
he said cheerily. He meant in the spirit, not the flesh. Not the faintest
hope of life even flickered in his mind.

In the last farewell embrace a faint tremor of the soul, half sigh, half
groan, escaped his lips, and he drew her again to his breast, whispering:

"Always my sweetheart, good, beautiful, brave, and true!"

CHAPTER III

THE JOY OF LIVING

Within two weeks after the departure of Mrs. Cameron and Margaret, the
wounded soldier had left the hospital with Elsie's hand resting on his arm
and her keen eyes watching his faltering steps. She had promised Margaret
to take her place until he was strong again. She was afraid to ask herself
the meaning of the songs that were welling up from the depth of her own
soul. She told herself again and again that she was fulfilling her ideal
of unselfish human service.

Ben's recovery was rapid, and he soon began to give evidence of his
boundless joy in the mere fact of life.

He utterly refused to believe his father in danger.

"What, my dad a