the good cause."
"Oh, yes, of course, that is not the question. I do not wantto hear both sides to decide that. But I mean lesserquestions; movements, probabilities, dangers; the truth ofactual events. _Those_ I want to know about."
"I am sure, so do I," said the major.
"I hoped you could enlighten me, Major Fairbairn."
"About movements?" said the major. "Well, our forces aremoving; there is no doubt. McDowell is going forward inearnest at last."
"Against Beauregard?"
"Against whatever he meets; and I suppose Beauregard will meethim."
"Then there will be a battle?"
"I hope so."
"Why do you hope so, Major Fairbairn?"
"It is the shortest way to peace, Miss Randolph. But it is notlikely that one battle will do it."
"I know it will not if the North succeed," I said; "but how ifthe Southern army should get the better?"
"You aren't a rebel in disguise?" said the major, lookingaskance at me. "Is my reputation in danger, to be riding withyou?"
"It is just as well to look the truth in the face, MajorFairbairn."
"So it is; you are right there," said my companion seriouslyenough. "Well, I look for a long tussle of it, whichever waythis particular game goes to-day. It will be well if there isanything left to fight for, by the time it is over."
"There is always the truth" - I said.
"The truth gives poor board wages to its servants, though,"said the major. "It is all very well to cry 'victory,' whenthere is no corn in the hopper."
"Is it likely that Patterson will fight?" I asked, with myheart in my mouth. I had been trying to get this question out;and it seemed to me now as if every word were as big as two.
"Humph! - I don't know," said the major. "I suppose he will,if he can't help it."
"What do you mean?"
"Why, he has got work enough to do," said Major Fairbairn. "Idon't know if it is work that he likes. I have some privateacquaintance with the man. His business is to keep Johnstonbusy, so that he will not have leisure to look our way."
"And suppose Patterson does not do his duty?"
"Then we may have too much on our hands. Beauregard doesn'twant any help just now." And weary, no doubt, of the subject,the major diverged to some lighter matters of conversation. Itried to answer and make talk, but my heart was very sick. Icould hardly know what he was saying; Beauregard, andPatterson, and Johnston, so ran in my thoughts. I suppose themajor did not find it out, for he seemed very well satisfied,and at parting said that "after the victory" he would come andhave another ride with me.
So I waited now for news. Dull, dreadful days; long with aninterminable length of quarters and half hours; heavy withfear. They were not many; for the morning but one, I think,after my last ride, a gentleman stopped me in the street totell me that firing had been heard that morning, and McDowellhad, it was thought, met his enemy. I calculated the dayssince I had seen Mr. Thorold; speculated on Patterson'sprobable activity or non-activity, and Christian's consequentplace and duty in the position of affairs; and could only knowthat it was all a confusion of pain. At first I thought to goat once back to the house and give up my walk; but a secondthought of that dull weary waiting inside of walls sent me onup the avenue. I might hear something more; at any rate, theopen sky was a better breathing-place.
The open sky! Blue and calm as ever; moveless and pure; whilethe grim strife of a battlefield was raging beneath it. Wasthere another struggle where Johnston's forces were opposed byGeneral Patterson? And why could I not leave my cares now, asso many a time I had left them, as I longed to leave them thisminute, - in the hand that upheld that blue sky? I could not.That is to say, I did in some fashion, which kept me fromutterly fainting; but I was not confident; I was not willingthat the will of God should be done irrespective of mine, Ifwrithed from under the pressure of a coming possibility. CouldI help it? My one first earthly joy, the treasure thatgathered up all life's riches for me; could I think of thattreasure being scattered and not know that should be leftpoor? And what if God willed I should be thus poor? Ah, I wasnot ready.
I had a long, feverish walk, made as long as I could; and camehome with a sort of thirst of heart, and very weary. Mrs.Sandford met me, and I had to turn into the parlour.
"Grant is a little better, I think," she said.
I could not find words to speak to her. If he was better, why,then, he would be taking me from Washington. I knew how itwould be.
"He is certainly better," she repeated, with exultation in hervoice; "and now, my dear Daisy, we will get away from thishorrid place. My dear, how - how _grey_ you look! What is thematter? you are tired to death."
I almost wished I was. However, I commanded myself, and toldher I had been walking far, and it was hot, and no doubt I wasgrey with dust.
"And do you know," Mrs. Sandford went on, "they say the attackhas commenced. Firing has been heard from some direction downin Virginia; the doctor told me."
"Mr. Vinton told me."
"Did he? while you were out? and you never mentioned it!Daisy, you are the coolest creature! I envy you for that morethan for everything else you have got; though people do say -some people - that Miss Randolph's grey eyes are depths ofdelight. My dear! whose possible encomiums have I hit in yourmemory, that your cheeks are taking up the matter with such adelicious rose colour?"
She did not know what she touched. It was no vanity, but herwords brought up suddenly what Thorold had told his aunt aboutVermont lakes, and all the bitter-sweetness of that evening.My heart swelled. I was very near bursting into tears andastonishing Mrs. Sandford.
"Daisy, my dear," she said fondly and half seriously, "you aretoo great a treasure to be risked out of your parents' hands.The responsibility is weighing upon me. I hope Grant will getwell, I am sure, and take us away. What with one sort ofdanger and another, it is really too much. Fancy, what itwould be if we were to lose this battle! Why, the rebels wouldbe here in no time; the doctor said so."
"Well -" I said. I could not tell all my thought; that in suchan event I would not be anywhere but where I was, for worlds;unless indeed I could be with the army of General Pattersonbefore Johnston.
"Is Dr. Sandford really better?" I asked.
"He certainly is; I am so glad! and I will tell him you askedso earnestly about him, and that will make him better still.Yes, we will get away now from this dismal place some time, Ido believe. Do go and lie down, Daisy; and I will send yousome lemonade."
The lemonade stood by me all day; while I thought of the smokeand the conflict to which no refreshment could come. I couldnot touch the lemonade.
I cannot tell now whether that day was Friday or Saturday. Ihave tried to recollect, and I cannot. I am not sure whetherit was not Thursday. But I know it was Saturday evening whenthe next thing happened which stands clear in my memory. I wasin my own room, forlornly endeavouring to work some worstedembroidery; - though the sickness of my heart seemed to findits way into my fingers, and it was with pain and difficultythat they pulled the needle in and out. It was only moredifficult to sit still and do nothing; and to read wasimpossible. I sat drawing the wool through the canvass-drawinglong threads of thought at the same time - when Mrs. Sandfordburst in.
"Daisy! - they say McDowell has had a bad time - they havedriven him back, or something; isn't it dreadful! - and thereyou sit embroidering as quiet as can be. But bless me, child!you haven't a bit of colour. Washington will kill us all yet."
"Who told you?"
"Doctor Barnard says it's so; it's all through the city. Andif the rebels get the better of McDowell, they'll comestraight here, Daisy, and take Washington. Oh, I wish Grantwas well enough to set right off to-morrow! but he isn't. Howcan you be so quiet? I tell you, our army has been repulsed,and how bad it is nobody knows."
"We had better wait till somebody does know," I said. "We havehad repulses before. There was Big Bethel - and Vienna - and agreat many."
"But this is McDowell and the great a
rmy; and Beauregard hashosts at his back."
"Well! -" I said.
"But you are dreadfully pale, Daisy. How can you keep soquiet? What are you made of?"
"I do not think they will take Washington," I said. "I am inno hurry, for my part, to get away. Look - do you say maroonor dark purple for this bit of grounding? I cannot make up mymind."
Mrs. Sandford dived into the purples and browns of my colouredwools; came back again to McDowell and Beauregard, but cameback quieted, and presently left the room. Then, I put down myneedle and laid my head on the table, and shook from head tofoot with the