A company of soldiers, paltry in number, yet each with loaded rifle and bayonet set, charged past her at double-quick upon this crowd, which gave way slowly and sullenly at its approach, holding with desperate ferocity and determination to whatever ghastly work had been employing their hands,—­dropped at last,—­left on the stones,—­the soldiers between it and the mob,—­silent, motionless,—­she saw it, and knew it where it lay.  O woful sight and knowledge for loving eyes and bursting heart!

Ere she reached it some last stones were flung by the retreating crowd, a last shot fired in the air,—­fired at random, but speeding with as unerring aim to her aching, anguished breast, death-freighted and life-destroying,—­but not till she had reached her destined point and end; not till her feet failed close to that bruised and silent form; not till she had sunk beside it, gathered it in her fair young arms, and pillowed its beautiful head—­from which streamed golden hair, dabbled and blood-bestained—­upon her faithful heart.

There it stirred; the eyes unclosed to meet hers, a gleam of divine love shining through their fading fire; the battered, stiffened arm lifted, as to fold her in the old familiar caress.  “Darling—­die—­to make—­free”—­came in gasps from the sweet, yet whitening lips.  Then she lay still.  Where his breath blew across her hair it waved, and her bosom moved above the slow and labored beating of his heart; but, save for this, she was as quiet as the peaceful dead within their graves,—­and, like them, done with the noise and strife of time forever.

For him,—­the shadows deepened where he lay,—­the stars came out one by one, looking down with clear and solemn eyes upon this wreck of fair and beautiful things, wrought by earthly hate and the awful passions of men,—­then veiled their light in heavy and sombre clouds.  The rain fell upon the noble face and floating, sunny hair,—­washing them free of soil, and dark and fearful stains; moistening the fevered, burning lips, and cooling the bruised and aching frame.  How passed the long night with that half-insensible soul?  God knoweth.  The secrets of that are hidden in the eternity to which it now belongs.  Questionless, ministering spirits drew near, freighted with balm and inspiration; for when the shadows fled, and the next morning’s sun shone upon these silent forms, it revealed faces radiant as with some celestial fire, and beatified as reflecting the smile of God.

The inmates of the house before which lay this solemn mystery, rising to face a new-made day, looking out from their windows to mark what traces were left of last night’s devastations, beheld this awful yet sublime sight.

“A prejudice which, I trust, will never end,” had Mr. Surrey said, in bidding adieu to his son but a few short hours before.  This prejudice, living and active, had now thus brought death and desolation to his own doors.  “How unsearchable are the judgments of God, and his ways past finding out!”