“I do not feel weary yet,” said the young officer, “if you are not.  Imagine that I have just waked up from that long nap of which I have spoken.  Miss Marian was such a sympathetic listener that I dwelt much longer than I intended on scenes which impressed me powerfully.  I have not yet described my search for Strahan, or given Mr. Merwyn such hints as my experience affords.  Having just come from the field, I do not see that he could gain much by undue haste.  He can accomplish quite as much by leaving sometime tomorrow.  To be frank, I believe that the only place to find Strahan is under a rebel guard going South.  Our troops may interpose in time to release him; if not, he will be exchanged before long.”

“In a matter of this kind there should be no uncertainty which can possibly be removed,” Merwyn said, in a husky voice.  “I shall now save time by obtaining the information you can give, for I shall know better how to direct my search.  I shall certainly go in the morning.”

“Yes, captain,” said Marian, eagerly.  “Since you disclaim weariness we could listen for hours yet.  You are a skilful narrator, for, intensely as your story has interested me, you have reserved its climax to the last, even though your search led you only among woful scenes in the hospitals.”

“On such scenes I will touch as lightly as possible, and chiefly for Mr. Merwyn’s benefit; for if Strahan had been left on the field, either killed or wounded, I do not see how he could have escaped me.”  Then, with a smile at the young girl, he added:  “Since you credit me with some skill as a story-teller, and since my story is so long, perhaps it should be divided.  In that case what I am now about to relate should be headed with the words, ’My search for Strahan.’”

CHAPTER XXXVI.

Blauvelt’s search for Strahan.

“You will remember,” said the captain, after a moment’s pause, that he might take up the thread of his narrative consecutively, “that I awoke a little before midnight.  At first I was confused, but soon all that had happened came back to me.  I found myself a part of a long line of sleeping men that formed the reserve.  Not farther than from here across the street was another line in front of us.  Beyond this were our vigilant pickets, and then the vedettes of the enemy.  All seemed strangely still and peaceful, but a single shot would have brought thousands of men to their feet.  The moon poured a soft radiance over all, and gave to the scene a weird and terrible beauty.  The army was like a sleeping giant.  Would its awakening be as terrible as on the last three mornings?  Then I thought of that other army sleeping beyond our lines,—­an army which neither bugle nor the thunder of all our guns could awaken.

“I soon distinguished faint, far-off sounds from the disputed territory beyond our pickets.  Rising, I put my hand to my ear, and then heard the words, ‘Water! water!’