GERTRUDE. What do you mean?
HAVERILL. Last night I saw you kneeling at the side of Kerchival West;
you spoke to him with all the tender passion of a Southern woman. You
said you loved him. But you spoke into ears that could not hear you.
Has he ever heard those words from your lips? Have you ever confessed
your love to him before?

GERTRUDE. Never. Why do you ask?

HAVERILL. Do not repeat those words. Keep your heart to yourself, my
girl.

GERTRUDE. General! Why do you say this to me? And at such a
moment--when his life--

HAVERILL. His life! [_Turning sharply._] It belongs to me!

GERTRUDE. Oh!

KERCHIVAL. Sergeant! [_Without. He steps in front road, looking
back._] See that my horse is ready at once. General! [_Saluting._] Are
there any orders for my regiment, beyond those given to Major Wilson,
in my absence, this morning? I am about to ride on after the troops
and re-assume my command.

HAVERILL. [_Quietly._] It is my wish, Colonel, that you remain here
under the care of the Surgeon.

KERCHIVAL. My wound is a mere trifle. This may be a critical moment in
the campaign, and I cannot rest here. I must be with my own men.

HAVERILL. [_Quietly._] I beg to repeat the wish I have already
expressed. [KERCHIVAL _walks to him, and speaks apart, almost under
his breath, but very earnest in tone._

KERCHIVAL. I have had no opportunity, yet, to explain certain matters,
as you requested me to do yesterday; but whatever there may be
between us, you are now interfering with my duty and my privilege as a
soldier; and it is my right to be at the head of my regiment.

HAVERILL. [_Quietly._] It is my positive order that you do not
reassume your command.

KERCHIVAL. General Haverill, I protest against this--

HAVERILL. [_Quietly._] You are under arrest, sir.

KERCHIVAL. Arrest!

GERTRUDE. Ah! [KERCHIVAL _unclasps his belt and offers his sword to_
HAVERILL.

HAVERILL. [_Quietly._] Keep your sword; I have no desire to humiliate
you; but hold yourself subject to further orders from me. [KERCHIVAL
_goes up veranda._

KERCHIVAL. My regiment at the front!--and I under arrest! [_Exit._

HAVERILL. Gertrude! If your heart refuses to be silent--if you feel
that you must confess your love to that man--first tell him what I
have said to you, and refer him to me for an explanation. [_Exit into
road._

GERTRUDE. What can he mean? He would save me from something worse
than death, he said. "His life--it belongs to me!" What can he mean?
Kerchival told me that he loved me--it seems many years since that
morning in Charleston--and when we met again, yesterday, he said that
he had never ceased to love me. I will not believe that he has told
me a falsehood. I have given him my love, my whole soul and my faith.
[_Drawing up to her full height._] My perfect faith!

JENNY _runs in from road, and up the slope. She looks down the hill,
then enters._

JENNY. A flag of truce, Gertrude. And a party of Confederate soldiers,
with an escort, coming up the hill. They are carrying someone; he is
wounded.

_Enter up the slope, a_ LIEUTENANT OF INFANTRY _with an escort
of Union soldiers, their arms at right shoulder, and a party of
Confederate soldiers bearing a rustic stretcher._ LIEUTENANT FRANK
BEDLOE _lies on the stretcher._ MAJOR HARDWICK, _a Confederate
Surgeon, walks at his side._ MADELINE _appears at veranda, watching
them._ GERTRUDE _stands with her back to audience. The_ LIEUTENANT
_gives orders in a low tone, and the front escort moves to right, in
road. The Confederate bearers and the_ SURGEON _pass through the gate.
The rear escort moves to left, in road, under_ LIEUTENANT'S _orders.
The bearers halt, front; on a sign from the_ SURGEON, _they leave the
stretcher on the ground, stepping back._

MAJOR HARDWICK. Is General Haverill here?

GERTRUDE. Yes; what can we do, sir?

MADELINE. The General is just about mounting with his staff, to ride
away. Shall I go for him, sir?

MAJOR. Say to him, please, that Colonel Robert Ellingham, of the Tenth
Virginia, sends his respects and sympathy. He instructed me to bring
this young officer to this point, in exchange for himself, as agreed
upon between them last evening. [_Exit_ MADELINE.

JENNY. Is he unconscious or sleeping, sir?

MAJOR. Hovering between life and death. I thought he would bear the
removal better. He is waking. Here, my lad! [_Placing his canteen to
the lips of_ FRANK, _who moves, reviving._] We have reached the end of
our journey.

FRANK. My father!

MAJOR. He is thinking of his home. [FRANK _rises on one arm, assisted
by the_ SURGEON.

FRANK. I have obeyed General Haverill's orders, and I have a report to
make.

GERTRUDE. We have already sent for him. [_Stepping to him._] He will
be here in a moment.

FRANK. [_Looking into her face, brightly._] Is not
this--Miss--Gertrude Ellingham?

GERTRUDE. You know me? You have seen me before?

FRANK. Long ago! Long ago! You know the wife of General Haverill?

GERTRUDE. I have no dearer friend in the world.

FRANK. She will give a message for me to the dearest friend _I_ have
in the world. My little wife! I must not waste even the moment we are
waiting. Doctor! My note-book! [_Trying to get it from his coat. The_
SURGEON _takes it out. A torn and blood-stained lace handkerchief also
falls out._ GERTRUDE _kneels at his side._] Ah! I--I--have a message
from another--[_Holding up handkerchief._]--from Captain Heartsease.
[JENNY _makes a quick start towards him._] He lay at my side in the
hospital, when they brought me away; he had only strength enough to
put this in my hand, and he spoke a woman's name; but I--I--forgot
what it is. The red spots upon it are the only message he sent.
[GERTRUDE _takes the handkerchief and looks back at_ JENNY, _extending
her hand._ JENNY _moves to her, takes the handkerchief and turns back,
looking down on it. She drops her face into her hands and goes out
sobbing._

_Enter_ MADELINE _on veranda._

MADELINE. General Haverill is coming. I was just in time. He was
already on his horse.

FRANK. Ah! He is coming. [_Then suddenly._] Write! Write! [GERTRUDE
_writes in the note-book as he dictates._] "To--my wife--Edith:--Tell
our little son, when he is old enough to know--how his father died;
not how he lived. And tell her who filled my own mother's place so
lovingly--she is your mother, too--that my father's portrait of her,
which she gave to me in Charleston, helped me to be a better man!"
And--oh! I must not forget this--"It was taken away from me while I
was a prisoner in Richmond, and it is in the possession of Captain
Henry Thornton, of the Confederate Secret Service. But her face is
still beside your own in my heart. My best--warmest, last--love--to
you, darling." I will sign it. [GERTRUDE _holds the book, and he signs
it, then sinks back very quietly, supported by the_ SURGEON. GERTRUDE
_rises and walks right._

MADELINE. General Haverill is here. [_The_ SURGEON _lays the fold of
the blanket over_ FRANK'S _face and rises._

GERTRUDE. Doctor!

MAJOR. He is dead. [MADELINE, _on veranda, turns and looks left. The_
LIEUTENANT _orders the guard,_ "Present Arms". _Enter_ HAVERILL, _on
veranda. He salutes the guard as he passes. The_ LIEUTENANT _orders,_
"Carry Arms." HAVERILL _comes down._

HAVERILL. I am too late?

MAJOR. I'm sorry, General. His one eager thought as we came was to
reach here in time to see you. [HAVERILL _moves to the bier, looks
down at it, then folds back the blanket from the face. He starts
slightly as he first sees it._

HAVERILL. Brave boy! I hoped once to have a son like you. I shall
be in your father's place, to-day, at your grave. [_He replaces the
blanket and steps back._] We will carry him to his comrades in the
front. He shall have a soldier's burial, in sight of the mountain-top
beneath which he sacrificed his young life; that shall be his
monument.

MAJOR. Pardon me, General. We Virginians are your enemies, but you
cannot honour this young soldier more than we do. Will you allow my
men the privilege of carrying him to his grave? [HAVERILL _inclines
his head. The_ SURGEON _motions to the Confederate soldiers, who step
to the bier and raise it gently._

HAVERILL. Lieutenant! [_The_ LIEUTENANT _orders the guard,_ "Left
Face." _The Confederate bearers move through the gate, preceded by_
LIEUTENANT HARDWICK. HAVERILL _draws his sword, reverses it, and moves
up behind the bier with bowed head. The_ LIEUTENANT _orders_ "Forward
March," _and the cortege disappears. While the girls are still
watching it, the heavy sound of distant artillery is heard, with
booming reverberations among the hills and in the Valley._

MADELINE. What is that sound, Gertrude?

GERTRUDE. Listen! [_Another and more prolonged distant sound, with
long reverberations._

MADELINE. Again! Gertrude! [GERTRUDE _raises her hand to command
silence; listens. Distant cannon again._

GERTRUDE. It is the opening of a battle.

MADELINE. Ah! [_Running down stage. The sounds again. Prolonged
rumble._

GERTRUDE. How often have I heard that sound. [_Coming down._] This is
war, Madeline! You are face to face with it now.

MADELINE. And Robert is there! He may be in the thickest of the
danger--at this very moment.

GERTRUDE. Yes. Let our prayers go up for him; mine do, with all a
sister's heart. [KERCHIVAL _enters on veranda, without coat or vest,
his sash about his waist, looking back as he comes in._] Kerchival!

KERCHIVAL. Go on! Go on! Keep the battle to yourselves. I'm out of it.
[_The distant cannon and reverberations rising in volume. Prolonged
and distant rumble._

MADELINE. I pray for Robert Ellingham--and for the _cause_ in which he
risks his life! [KERCHIVAL _looks at her, suddenly; also_ GERTRUDE.]
Heaven forgive me if I am wrong, but I am praying for the enemies
of my country. His people are my people, his enemies are my enemies.
Heaven defend him and his, in this awful hour.

KERCHIVAL. Madeline! My sister!

MADELINE. Oh, Kerchival! [_Turning and dropping her face on his
breast._] I cannot help it--I cannot help it!

KERCHIVAL. My poor girl! Every woman's heart, the world over, belongs
not to any country or any flag, but to her husband--and her lover.
Pray for the man you love, sister--it would be treason not to.
[_Passes her before him to left. Looks across to_ GERTRUDE.] Am I
right? [GERTRUDE _drops her head._ MADELINE _moves up veranda and
out._] Is what I have said to Madeline true?

GERTRUDE. Yes! [_Looks up._] Kerchival!

KERCHIVAL. Gertrude! [_Hurries across to her, clasps her in his arms.
He suddenly staggers and brings his hand to his breast._

GERTRUDE. Your wound! [_Supporting him as he reels and sinks into
seat._

KERCHIVAL. Wound! I have no wound! You do love me! [_Seizing her
hand._

GERTRUDE. Let me call the Surgeon, Kerchival.

KERCHIVAL. You can be of more service to me than he can. [_Detaining
her. Very heavy sounds of the battle; she starts, listening._] Never
mind that! It's only a battle. You love me!

GERTRUDE. Be quiet, Kerchival, dear. I do love you. I told you so,
when you lay bleeding here, last night. But you could not hear me.
[_At his side, resting her arm about him, stroking his head._] I said
that same thing--to--to--another, more than three years ago. It is
in that letter that General Buckthorn gave you. [KERCHIVAL _starts._]
No--no--you must be very quiet, or I will not say another word. If you
obey me, I will repeat that part of the letter, every word; I know
it by heart, for I read it a dozen times. The letter is from Mrs.
Haverill.

KERCHIVAL. [_Quietly._] Go on.

GERTRUDE. "I have kept your secret, my darling, but I was sorely
tempted to betray the confidence you reposed in me at Charleston.
If Kerchival West--[_She retires backward from him as she
proceeds._]--had heard you say, as I did, when your face was hidden in
my bosom, that night, that you loved him with your whole heart--"

KERCHIVAL. Ah! [_Starting to his feet. He sinks back. She springs to
support him._

GERTRUDE. I will go for help.

KERCHIVAL. Do not leave me at such a moment as this. You have brought
me a new life. [_Bringing her to her knees before him and looking down
at her._] Heaven is just opening before me. [_His hands drops suddenly
and his head falls back. Battle._

GERTRUDE. Ah! Kerchival! You are dying! [_Musketry. A sudden sharp
burst of musketry, mingled with the roar of artillery near by._
KERCHIVAL _starts, seizing_ GERTRUDE'S _arm and holding her away,
still on her knees. He looks eagerly._

KERCHIVAL. The enemy is close upon us!

BARKET _runs in, up the slope._

BARKET. Colonel Wist! The devils have sprung out of the ground.
They're pouring over our lift flank like Noah's own flood. The Union
Army has started back for Winchester, on its way to the North Pole;
our own regiment, Colonel, is coming over the hill in full retrate.

KERCHIVAL. My own regiment! [_Starting up._] Get my horse, Barket.
[_Turns._] Gertrude, my life! [_Embraces_ GERTRUDE.

BARKET. Your horse, is it? I'm wid ye! There's a row at Finnegan's
ball, and we're in it. [_Springs to road, and out._

KERCHIVAL. [_Turns away. Stops._] I am under arrest. [_Retreat.
Fugitives begin to straggle across stage._

GERTRUDE. You must not go, Kerchival; it will kill you.

KERCHIVAL. Arrest be damned! [_Starts up stage, raises his arms above
his head with clenched fist, rising to full height._] Stand out of my
way, you cowards! [_They cower away from him as he rushes out among
them. The stream of fugitives passing across stage swells in volume._
GERTRUDE _runs through them and up to the elevation, turning._

GERTRUDE. Men! Are you soldiers? Turn back! There is a leader for you!
Turn back! Fight for your flag--and mine!--the flag my father died
for! Turn back! [_She looks out and turns front._] He has been marked
for death already, and I--I can only pray. [_Dropping to her knees._

_The stream of fugitives continues, now over the elevation also. Rough
and torn uniforms, bandaged arms and legs; some limping and supported
by others, some dragging their muskets after them, others without
muskets, others using them as crutches. Variety of uniforms, cavalry,
infantry, etc.; flags draggled on the ground, the rattle of near
musketry and roar of cannon continue; two or three wounded fugitives
drop down beside the hedge._ BENSON _staggers in and drops upon rock
or stump near post. Artillerists, rough, torn and wounded, drag and
force a field-piece across._ CORPORAL DUNN, _wounded, staggers to the
top of elevation. There is a lull in the sounds of the battle. Distant
cheers are heard without._

CORPORAL DUNN. Listen, fellows! Stop! Listen! Sheridan! General
Sheridan is coming! [_Cheers from those on stage._ GERTRUDE _rises
quickly. The wounded soldiers rise, looking over hedge. All on stage
stop, looking eagerly. The cheers without come nearer, with shouts of_
"Sheridan! Sheridan!"] The horse is down; he is worn out.

GERTRUDE. No! He is up again! He is on my Jack! Now, for your life,
Jack, and for me! You've never failed me yet. [_The cheers without now
swell to full volume and are taken up by those on the stage. The horse
sweeps by with_ GENERAL SHERIDAN.] Jack! Jack!! Jack!!! [_Waving her
arms as he passes. She throws up her arms and falls backward, caught
by_ DUNN. _The stream of men is reversed and surges across stage
to road and on elevation, with shouts, throwing up hats, etc. The
field-piece is forced up the slope with a few bold, rough movements;
the artillerists are loading it, and the stream of returning fugitives
is still surging by in the road as the curtain falls._

CURTAIN.




ACT IV.


SCENE. _Residence of_ GENERAL BUCKTHORN, _in Washington. Interior.
Fireplace slanting upward. Small alcove. Opening to hall, with
staircase beyond, and also entrance from out left. Door up stage. A
wide opening, with portieres to apartment. Upright piano down stage.
Armchair and low stool before fireplace. Small table for tea, etc.
Ottoman. Other chairs, ottomans, etc., to taste._

TIME. _Afternoon._

DISCOVERED. MRS. HAVERILL, _in armchair, resting her face upon her
hand, and looking into the fire._ EDITH _is on a low stool at her
side, sewing a child's garment._

EDITH. It seems hardly possible that the war is over, and that General
Lee has really surrendered. [_Fife and drum, without._] There is
music in the streets nearly all the time, now, and everybody looks so
cheerful and bright. [_Distant fife and drums heard playing "Johnnie
Comes Marching Home."_ EDITH _springs up and runs up to window,
looking out._] More troops returning! The old tattered battle-flag
is waving in the wind, and people are running after them so merrily.
[_Music stops._] Every day, now, seems like a holiday. [_Coming
down._] The war is over. All the women ought to feel very happy,
whose--whose husbands are--coming back to them.

MRS. HAVERILL. Yes, Edith; those women whose--husbands are coming back
to them. [_Still looking into fire._

EDITH. Oh! [_Dropping upon the stool, her head upon the arm of the
chair._

MRS. HAVERILL. [_Resting her arm over her._] My poor little darling!
_Your_ husband will not come back.

EDITH. Frank's last message has never reached me.

MRS. HAVERILL. No; but you have one sweet thought always with you.
Madeline West heard part of it, as Gertrude wrote it down. His last
thought was a loving one, of you.

EDITH. Madeline says that he was thinking of you, too. He knew that
you were taking such loving care of his little one, and of me. You
have always done that, since you first came back from Charleston, and
found me alone in New York.

MRS. HAVERILL. I found a dear, sweet little daughter. [_Stroking her
head._] Heaven sent you, darling! You have been a blessing to me. I
hardly know how I should have got through the past few months at all
without you at my side.

EDITH. What is your own trouble, dear? I have found you in tears
so often; and since last October, after the battle of Cedar Creek,
you--you have never shown me a letter from--from my--Frank's father.
General Haverill arrived in Washington yesterday, but has not been
here yet. Is it because I am here? He has never seen me, and I feel
that he has never forgiven Frank for marrying me.

MRS. HAVERILL. Nonsense, my child; he did think the marriage was
imprudent, but he told me to do everything I could for you. If General
Haverill has not been to see either of us, since his arrival in
Washington, it is nothing that you need to worry your dear little head
about. How are you getting on with your son's wardrobe?

EDITH. Oh! Splendidly! Frankie isn't a baby any longer; he's a man,
now, and he has to wear a man's clothes. [_Holding up a little pair of
trousers, with maternal pride._] He's rather young to be dressed like
a man, but I want Frank to grow up as soon as possible. I long to
have him old enough to understand me when I repeat to him the words
in which General Haverill told the whole world how his father died!
[_Rising._] And yet, even in his official report to the Government, he
only honoured him as Lieutenant Bedloe. He has never forgiven his son
for the disgrace he brought upon his name.

MRS. HAVERILL. I know him so well--[_Rising._]--the unyielding pride,
that conquers even the deep tenderness of his nature. He can be
silent, though his own heart is breaking. [_Aside._] He can be silent,
too, though _my_ heart is breaking. [_Dropping her face in her hand._

EDITH. _Mother!_ [_Putting her arm about her._

_Enter_ JANNETTE.

JANNETTE. A letter for you, Madam.

MRS. HAVERILL. [_Taking note. Aside._] He has answered me. [_Opens and
reads; inclines her head to_ JANNETTE, _who goes out to hall. Aloud._]
General Haverill will be here this afternoon, Edith. [_Exit up the
stairs._

EDITH. There is something that she cannot confide to me, or to anyone.
General Haverill returned to Washington yesterday, and he has not been
here yet. He will be here to-day. I always tremble when I think of
meeting him.

GENERAL BUCKTHORN _appears in hall._

BUCKTHORN. Come right in; this way, Barket. Ah, Edith!

BARKET. [_Entering._] As I was saying, sur--just after the battle of
Sayder Creek began--

BUCKTHORN. [_To_ EDITH.] More good news! The war is, indeed, over,
now!

BARKET. Whin Colonel Wist rode to the front to mate his raytrating
rigiment--

BUCKTHORN. General Johnson has surrendered his army, also; and that,
of course, does end the war.

EDITH. I'm very glad that all the fighting is over.

BUCKTHORN. So am I; but my occupation, and old Barket's, too, is gone.
Always at work on new clothes for our little soldier?

EDITH. He's growing so, I can hardly make them fast enough for him.
But this is the time for his afternoon nap. I must go now, to see if
he is sleeping soundly.

BUCKTHORN. Our dear little mother! [_Tapping her chin._] I always
claim the privilege of my white hair, you know. [_She, puts up her
lips; he kisses her. She goes out._] The sweetest young widow I ever
saw! [BARKET _coughs._ BUCKTHORN _turns sharply;_ BARKET _salutes._]
Well! What the devil are you thinking about now?

BARKET. The ould time, sur. Yer honour used to claim the same
privilege for brown hair.

BUCKTHORN. You old rascal! What a memory you have! You were telling me
for the hundredth time about the battle of Cedar Creek; go on. I can
never hear it often enough. Kerchival West was a favourite of mine,
poor fellow!

BARKET. Just afther the battle of Sayder Creek began, when the Colonel
rode to the front to mate his raytrating rigiment--

BUCKTHORN. I'll tell Old Margery to bring in tea for both of us,
Barket.

BARKET. For both of us, sur?

BUCKTHORN. Yes; and later in the evening we'll have something else,
together. This is a great day for all of us. I'm not your commander
to-day, but your old comrade in arms--[_Laying his arm over_ BARKET'S
_shoulder._]--and I'm glad I don't have to pull myself up now every
time I forget my dignity. Ah! you and I will be laid away before long,
but we'll be together again in the next world, won't we, Barket?

BARKET. Wid yer honour's permission. [_Saluting._

BUCKTHORN. Ha--ha--ha! [_Laughing._] If we do meet there I'm certain
you'll salute me as your superior officer. There's old Margery, now.
[_Looking to door. Calls._] Margery! Tea for two!

MARGERY. [_Without._] The tay be waiting for ye, sur; and it be
boilin' over wid impatience.

BUCKTHORN. Bring up a chair, Barket. [_Sitting in arm-chair._

BARKET. [_Having placed table and drawing up a chair._] Do you know,
Gineral, I don't fale quite aisy in my moind. I'm not quite sure that
Margery will let us take our tay together. [_Sits down, doubtfully._

BUCKTHORN. I hadn't thought of that. I--[_Glancing right._]--I
hope she will, Barket. But, of course, if she won't--she's been
commander-in-chief of my household ever since Jenny was a baby.

BARKET. At Fort Duncan, in Texas.

BUCKTHORN. You and Old Margery never got along very well in those
days; but I thought you had made it all up; she nursed you through
your wound, last summer, and after the battle of Cedar Creek, also.

BARKET. Yis, sur, bliss her kind heart, she's been like a wife to me;
and that's the trouble. A man's wife is such an angel when he's ill
that he dreads to get well; good health is a misfortune to him. Auld
Margery and I have had anither misunderstanding.

BUCKTHORN. I'll do the best I can for both of us, Barket. You were
telling me about the battle of--

BARKET. Just afther the battle of Sayder Creek began, whin Colonel
Wist rode to the front to mate his raytrating rigiment--

_Enter_ OLD MARGERY, _tray, tea, &c. She stops abruptly, looking at_
BARKET. _He squirms in his chair._ BUCKTHORN _rises and stands with
his back to the mantel._ OLD MARGERY _moves to the table, arranges
things on it, glances at_ BARKET, _then at_ BUCKTHORN, _who looks up
at ceiling, rubbing his chin, &c._ OLD MARGERY _takes up one of the
cups, with saucer._

OLD MARGERY. I misunderstood yer order, sur. I see there's no one here
but yerself. [_Going right._

BUCKTHORN. Ah, Margery! [_She stops._] Barket tells me that there has
been a slight misunderstanding between you and him.

OLD MARGERY. Day before yisterday, the ould Hibernian dhrone had the
kitchen upside down, to show anither old milithary vagabone loike
himself how the battle of Sayder Creek was fought. He knocked the
crame pitcher into the basket of clane clothes, and overturned some
raspberry jam and the flat-irons into a pan of fresh eggs. There _has_
been a misunderstanding betwane us.

BUCKTHORN. I see there has. I suppose Barket was showing his friend
how Colonel Kerchival West rode forward to meet his regiment, when he
was already wounded dangerously.

OLD MARGERY. Bliss the poor, dear young man! He and I was always good
frinds, though he was somethin' of a devil in the kitchen himself,
whin he got there. [_Wiping her eye with one corner of her apron._]
And bliss the young Southern lady that was in love wid him, too.
[_Changing the cup and wiping the other eye with the corner of her
apron._] Nothing was iver heard of ayther of thim after that battle
was over, to this very day.

BUCKTHORN. Barket was at Kerchival's side when he rode to the front.
[OLD MARGERY _hesitates a moment, then moves to the table, sets down
the cup and marches out._ BUCKTHORN _sits in the arm-chair again,
pouring tea._] I could always find some way to get Old Margery to do
what I wanted her to do.

BARKET. You're a great man, Ginerel; we'd niver have conquered the
South widout such men.

BUCKTHORN. Now go on, Barket; you were interrupted.

BARKET. Just afther the battle of Sayder Creek began, whin--

_Enter_ JANNETTE _with card, which she hands to_ BUCKTHORN.

BUCKTHORN. [_Reading card._] Robert Ellingham! [_Rises._] I will go to
him. [_To_ JANNETTE.] Go upstairs and tell Madeline to come down.

JANNETTE. Yes, sir. [_Going._

BUCKTHORN. And, Jannette, simply say there is a caller; don't tell her
who is here. [_Exit_ JANNETTE _upstairs._ BUCKTHORN _follows her
out to hall._] Ellingham! My dear fellow! [_Extending his hand and
disappearing._

BARKET. Colonel Ellingham and Miss Madeline--lovers! That's the kind
o' volunteers the country nades now!

_Enter_ BUCKTHORN _and_ ELLINGHAM.

BUCKTHORN. [_As he enters._] We've been fighting four years to keep
you out of Washington, Colonel, but we are delighted to see you within
the lines, now.

ELLINGHAM. I am glad, indeed, General, to have so warm a welcome. But
can you tell me anything about my sister, Gertrude?

BUCKTHORN. About your sister? Why, can't you tell us? And have you
heard nothing of Kerchival West on your side of the line?

ELLINGHAM. All I can tell you is this: As soon as possible after our
surrender at Appomattox, I made my way to the Shenandoah Valley. Our
home there is utterly deserted. I have hurried down to Washington in
the hopes that I might learn something of you. There is no human being
about the old homestead; it is like a haunted house--empty, and dark,
and solitary. You do not even know where Gertrude is?

BUCKTHORN. We only know that Kerchival was not found among the dead of
his own regiment at Cedar Creek, though he fell among them during
the fight. The three girls searched the field for him, but he was
not there. As darkness came on, and they were returning to the house,
Gertrude suddenly seized the bridle of a stray horse, sprang upon its
back and rode away to the South, into the woods at the foot of Three
Top Mountain. The other two girls watched for her in vain. She did not
return, and we have heard nothing from her since.

ELLINGHAM. Poor girl! I understand what was in her thoughts, and she
was right. We captured fourteen hundred prisoners that day, although
we were defeated, and Kerchival must have been among them. Gertrude
rode away, alone, in the darkness, to find him. I shall return to the