“And that triumph can’t be very far off either,” concluded Harry.  “I think the struggle will be over before this time next year, and I hope you and I may have a hand in the winding up.”

“Perhaps you may,” Allison rejoined a little sadly; “but I, I fear, have struck my last blow for my native land.”

“You are not strong now, but good nursing may do wonders for you,” answered Harry cheerily.  “Once within the Union lines, and you will feel like another man.”

“Ah, but how to get me there? that’s the tug of war,” said Harold, but with a smile and in tones more hopeful than his words.  “Duncan, you are a Christian?”

“Yes, Allison; Jesus Christ is the Captain of my salvation; in whom I trust, and in whose service I desire to live and die.”

“Then are we brothers indeed!” and with the words their right hands joined in a more cordial grasp than before.

The sun was nearing the western horizon when at length Harold was left alone.  He bowed his head upon his knees in thought and prayer, remaining thus for many minutes, striving for a spirit of forgiveness and compassion towards the coward wretch who would have slain one dearer to him than life.

At last, as the shadows of evening were gathering over the place, he lifted a pale, patient face; and rising, made his way slowly and with difficulty towards the spot where Jackson lay prostrate on the ground, groaning and crying like a child.

Sitting down beside the miserable creature, he spoke to him in gentle, soothing tones.  “You have been here a long time?”

“The longest year that ever I lived! but it won’t last much longer,” and he uttered a fearful oath.

“Are you expecting to be exchanged?”

“Exchanged! no.  What do those fellows at Washington care about our lives?  They’ll delay and delay till we’re all starved to death, like hundreds and thousands, before us;” and again he concluded with a volley of oaths and curses, bestowed indiscriminately upon the President and Congress, Jeff Davis, Wirtz, and the guard.

Harold was shocked at his profanity.  “Man,” said he solemnly, “do you know that you are on the brink of the grave? and must soon appear at the bar of Him whose holy name you are taking in vain?”

“Curse you!” he cried, lifting his head for a moment, then dropping it again on the ground; “take your cant to some other market, I don’t believe in a God, or heaven or hell:  and the sooner I die the better; for I’ll be out of my misery.”

“No; that is a fatal delusion, and unless you turn and repent, and believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, death can only plunge you into deeper misery.  You have only a little while!  Oh, I beseech you, don’t cast away your last chance to secure pardon, peace and eternal life!”

“You’re ‘casting your pearls before swine,’” returned the man, sneeringly.  “Not to say that I’m a hog exactly, but I’ve not a bit more of a soul than if I was.  Your name’s Allison, isn’t it?”