“Confederate paper or money?” said Dalton.

“I mean real money, but at the same time you oughtn’t to make invidious comparisons.”

“Then the money’s mine, but you can pay me whenever you feel like it, which I suppose will be never.  There’s a spring in the thick woods just back of your quarters.  It flows out from under rocks, at the distance of several yards makes a deep pool, and then the overflow of the pool goes on through the forest to the Po.  Come on, Harry!  We’ll luxuriate and then tell the others.”

Harry found that it was a most glorious spring, indeed; clear and cold.  He and Dalton drank slowly at first, and then deeply.

“I didn’t know I could hold so much,” said Dalton.

“Nor I,” said Harry.

“Let’s take another.”

“I’m with you.”

“Let’s make it two more.”

“I still follow you.”

“Horace wrote about his old Falernian, and the other wines which he enjoyed, as he and the leading Roman sports sat around the fountain, flirting with the girls,” said Dalton, “but I don’t believe any wine ever brewed in Latium was the equal of this water.”

“I’ve always had an idea that Horace wasn’t as gay as he pretended to be, else he wouldn’t have written so much about Chloe and her comrades.  I imagine that an old Roman boy would keep pretty quiet about his dancing and singing, and not publish it to the public.”

“Well, let him be.  He’s dead and the Romans are dead, and the Americans are doing their best to kill off one another, but let’s forget it for a few minutes.  That pool there is about four feet deep, the water is clear and the bottom is firm ground; now do you know what I’m going to do?”

“Yes, and I’m going to do the same.  Bet you even that I beat you into the water.”

“Taken.”

They threw off their clothes rapidly, but the splashes were simultaneous as their bodies struck the water.  Although the limits of the pool were narrow they splashed and paddled there for a while, and it was a long time since they had known such a luxury.  Then they walked out, dried themselves and spread the good news.  All night long the pool was filled with the bathers, following one another in turn.

The water taken internally and externally soothed Harry’s nerves.  His excitement was gone.  A great army with which they were sure to fight on the morrow was not far away, but for the time he was indifferent.  The morrow could take care of itself.  It was night, and he had permission to go to sleep.  Hence he slumbered fifteen minutes later.

He slept almost through the night, and, when he was awakened shortly before dawn, he found that his strength and elasticity had returned.  He and Dalton went down to the spring again, drank many times, and then ate breakfast with the older members of the staff, a breakfast that differed very little from that of the common soldiers.