“Yes, there are others,” whispered Ruth, misunderstanding, “and if you run your eye up and down the crack quickly, you can catch a sight of them.  The crack is wider in some parts.”

“Heaven save us, lass!” (Ruth’s head had come in violent contact with Janie’s chin).  “You have loosened my teeth!”

“They are going to drink a toast!” said Ruth, not heeding the accident, but thrilling with excitement.  “Andy, ’tis no wrong we are doing.  The General’s voice can be heard distinctly, and I vow there are a dozen heads at every window opening on the porch.  The crack is fine down here.  I can see everything!”

Andy stood still.

“He is raising his glass!” said Ruth near the floor.

“With my heart full of love and gratitude I now take leave of you all.  Most devoutly wishing that your latter days may be as prosperous and happy as your former ones have been glorious and honorable.”

“His eyes are full of tears!” almost sobbed Ruth, and the eyes of them in the little room were dim.  Glasses clinked together, then the full voice went on: 

“I cannot come to each one of you and take my leave, but I shall be obliged if you will come and take my hand.”  They needed no second bidding those comrades, tried and true.  One by one, feeling no shame in their manly show of sorrow, they grasped their General’s faithful hand and parted from him with bowed heads.

“They are going out!” panted Janie.  “Now, Andy, for the hall.  We must meet him at the door.”

As he came from the banquet room, Washington and his officers met the three.  He knew Andy at a glance, and then recognized Janie.  He took them by the hand, and bowed in courtly fashion.

“Patriots all!” he smiled.  “You well deserve your hard-earned peace.”

They joined the throngs which followed Washington to the river.  They stood upon the Battery until the barge which bore the gallant figure away faded from sight.  So lost were they in admiration that for a moment none of them noticed a tall figure approaching dressed in Continental uniform.  Then Janie saw him.  Her face flushed like a girl’s.

“Andy!” she whispered, pulling her son’s sleeve, “see, here is your—­”

“Father!” greeted Andy, and stretched out a welcoming hand.

Back to the lonely pass the four went, Janie and Martin on ahead.

“And now,” questioned Ruth in a soft whisper, “what comes next, Andy?”

“I am to study.  Ah!  Ruth, how I shall study!  I mean to learn all that I can and carry the best to them who call me.”

“You really mean to be a minister?”

“That I do, God willing!” answered Andy, reverently.

“’Tis a hard life, Andy.”

“For that I love it.”

“Have you thought where you would like to go?”

“Just where the most urgent call comes.  Ruth, the life is hard—­”

“I know the life, Andy, and love it!”