“I don’t know,” she replied, sadly,—­“I don’t know, for I never realized what war was before;” and she looked apprehensively at Merwyn, fearing to see traces of weakness.  His side face, as he sat in the shadow, was pale indeed, but he was rigid and motionless.  She received the impression that he was bracing himself by the whole strength of his will to listen through the dreadful story.

Again Mr. Vosburgh suggested that these details were too terrific for his daughter’s nerves, but she interrupted him almost sternly, saying:  “No, papa, I intend to know just what my friends have passed through.  I feel that it is due to them, and, if I cannot hear quietly, I am not worthy to be their friend.  I can listen to words when Southern girls can listen to bullets.  Captain Blauvelt, you are describing the battle exactly as I asked and wished.  My only fear is that you are going beyond your strength;” and she poured him out a glass of light wine.

“When you come to hear all I passed through after leaving that rock, you will know that this story-telling is not worth thinking about,” said Blauvelt, with a slight laugh, “All my exposure was well worth the risk, for the chance of telling it to a woman of your nerve.  My hope now is that Strahan may some day learn how stanch was our ‘home support,’ as we were accustomed to call you.  I assure you that many a man has been inspired to do his best because of such friendship and sympathy.  I am now about to tell you of the grandest thing I ever saw or expect to see, and shall not abate one jot of praise because the heroic act was performed by the enemy.”

CHAPTER XXXV.

The grand assault.

“After seeming ages had passed,” Blauvelt resumed, having taken a few moments of rest, “the fire of our artillery slackened and soon ceased, and that of the rebete also became less rapid and furious.  We saw horses brought up, and some of our batteries going to the rear at a gallop.  Could our guns have been silenced? and was disaster threatening us?  Our anxiety was so great that the two correspondents and I rushed out and were speedily reassured.  There was our infantry, still in line, and we soon saw that reserve batteries were taking the place of those withdrawn.  We afterward learned that General Meade and brave General Hunt, Chief of Artillery, had ordered our guns to be quiet and prepare for the assault which they knew would follow the cannonade.

“The wind blew from us towards the enemy, and our unbroken lines were in view.  All honor to the steadfast men who had kept their places through the most awful artillery combat ever known on this continent.  For nearly two mortal hours the infantry had been obliged to lie still and see men on every side of them torn and mangled to death; but like a wide blue ribbon, as far as the eye could reach, there they lay with the sunlight glittering on their polished muskets.  The rebels’ fire soon slackened also.  We now mounted the friendly rock, and I was busy with my glass again.  As the smoke lifted, which had covered the enemy’s position, I saw that we had not been the only sufferers.  Many of their guns were overturned, and the ground all along their line was thick with prostrate men.