“Aren’t you going to stop at all?” I asked.
“Not to-day. In fact we’re off for some time now.”
“Yes. He’s ahead now with General Chambliss.”
“Am I not to see him at all, General Stuart?” I said, trying hard to keep my lip from quivering--I had a reputation to keep up with him.
“You can go on with the army if you want to,” he said in quick sympathy. “I will give you an ambulance. You can carry your own maid along, have your own tent, and have your husband with you. I will do anything I can for your comfort. You would nurse our poor fellows when they get hurt, and be no end of good to us. But it would be awfully hard on you.”
“I wouldn’t mind the hardships,” I answered, “but you know Dan won’t let me go. I have begged him several times to let me live in camp with him. I could nurse the sick and wounded, and take care of him if he was shot, and I wouldn’t be a bit of trouble; and I could patch for the soldiers. Oh, I’d love to do it! If you come up with him, General Stuart, ask him to let me go, and if he says yes, send the ambulance.”
“I’ll promise him what I promised you,” he said, smiling kindly. “Good-by now. I’ll ride on and send him back to say good-by to you, if I can manage it. Then you can talk him into letting you come with us.”
I climbed up on the fence to shake hands with him and to say good-by, and I had another word for him. Beneath my dress and next my skin was a little Catholic medal which had been blessed by my confessor. It hung around my neck by a slender chain. I unclasped the chain, drew forth the medal and gave it to him, my eyes brimming with tears.
“It has been blessed by Father Mulvey,” I said. “Wear it about your neck. Maybe it will bring you back safe.”
I was leaning upon the horse’s neck, crying as if my heart would break. General Stuart’s own eyes were dim.
“Good-by,” I said, “and if you can send Dan back I thank you for us both--I thank you anyway for thinking of it; but--the South and his duty first. Good-by, and God bless you, General Stuart!”
That was the last time I ever saw him, the last time that knightly hand clasped mine. Before he rode away he said some cheerful, hopeful words, and looked back at me with the glint of merry mischief in his eyes, threatening to tell Dan Grey that I was losing my good repute for bravery. Dan did not come back to say good-by. I had a little note which he contrived to send me in some way. It was only a hasty scrawl, full of good-bys and God bless yous.