Somebody had a fresh joke on the
quartermaster, and everybody hoped great things of the campaign into
Maryland.
"I pray it may bring me a pair of shoes," muttered Dan, as he dropped off
into slumber.
The next day, with bands playing "Maryland, My Maryland," and the Southern
Cross taking the September wind, the ragged army waded the Potomac, and
passed into other fields.
II
A STRAGGLER FROM THE RANKS
In two weeks it swept back, wasted, stubborn, hungrier than ever. On a
sultry September afternoon, Dan, who had gone down with a sharp return of
fever, was brought, with a wagonful of the wounded, and placed on a heap of
straw on the brick pavement of Shepherdstown. For two days he had been
delirious, and Big Abel had held him to his bed during the long nights when
the terrible silence seemed filled with the noise of battle; but, as he was
lifted from the wagon and laid upon the sidewalk, he opened his eyes and
spoke in a natural voice.
"What's all this fuss, Big Abel? Have I been out of my head?"
"You sutney has, suh. You've been a-prayin' en shoutin' so loud dese las'
tree days dat I wunner de Lawd ain' done shet yo' mouf des ter git rid er
you."
"Praying, have I?" said Dan. "Well, I declare. That reminds me of Mr.
Blake, Big Abel. I'd like to know what's become of him."
Big Abel shook his head; he was in no pleasant humour, for the corners of
his mouth were drawn tightly down and there was a rut between his bushy
eyebrows.
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