Daisy In The Field - Page 51/231

"And suppose Patterson does not do his duty?"

"Then we may have too much on our hands. Beauregard doesn't

want any help just now." And weary, no doubt, of the subject,

the major diverged to some lighter matters of conversation. I

tried to answer and make talk, but my heart was very sick. I

could hardly know what he was saying; Beauregard, and

Patterson, and Johnston, so ran in my thoughts. I suppose the

major did not find it out, for he seemed very well satisfied,

and at parting said that "after the victory" he would come and

have another ride with me.

So I waited now for news. Dull, dreadful days; long with an

interminable length of quarters and half hours; heavy with

fear. They were not many; for the morning but one, I think,

after my last ride, a gentleman stopped me in the street to

tell me that firing had been heard that morning, and McDowell

had, it was thought, met his enemy. I calculated the days

since I had seen Mr. Thorold; speculated on Patterson's

probable activity or non-activity, and Christian's consequent

place and duty in the position of affairs; and could only know

that it was all a confusion of pain. At first I thought to go

at once back to the house and give up my walk; but a second

thought of that dull weary waiting inside of walls sent me on

up the avenue. I might hear something more; at any rate, the

open sky was a better breathing-place.

The open sky! Blue and calm as ever; moveless and pure; while

the grim strife of a battlefield was raging beneath it. Was

there another struggle where Johnston's forces were opposed by

General Patterson? And why could I not leave my cares now, as

so many a time I had left them, as I longed to leave them this

minute, - in the hand that upheld that blue sky? I could not.

That is to say, I did in some fashion, which kept me from

utterly fainting; but I was not confident; I was not willing

that the will of God should be done irrespective of mine, If

writhed from under the pressure of a coming possibility. Could

I help it? My one first earthly joy, the treasure that

gathered up all life's riches for me; could I think of that

treasure being scattered and not know that should be left

poor? And what if God willed I should be thus poor? Ah, I was

not ready.

I had a long, feverish walk, made as long as I could; and came

home with a sort of thirst of heart, and very weary. Mrs.

Sandford met me, and I had to turn into the parlour.

"Grant is a little better, I think," she said.

I could not find words to speak to her. If he was better, why,

then, he would be taking me from Washington. I knew how it

would be.