"I'se got mizzable mem'ry, and I don't justly 'member," was Sam's
answer; "but I reckons he feel berry queer and choky--berry."
"That's exactly my case, so you may venture to tell," Hugh said; and
getting his face close to that of the young man, Sam whispered: "She
say, 'Tell Massah Hugh--I--I--' You's sure you's dyin'?"
"I'm sure I feel as you said I must," Hugh, continued, and Sam went on:
"'Tell him I loves him; and ef he lives I'll be his wife.' Dem's her
very words, nigh as I can 'member--but what is massah goin' to do?" he
continued in some surprise, as Hugh attempted to rise.
"Do? I'm going to Alice," was Hugh's reply, as with a moan he sank back
again, too weak to rise alone.
"Then you be'nt dyin', after all," was Sam's rueful comment, as he
suggested: "Ef massah only clamber onto Rocket."
This was easier proposed than done, but after several trials Hugh
succeeded; and, with Sam steadying him, while he half lay on Rocket's
neck, Hugh proceeded slowly and safely through the woods, meeting at
last with some Unionists, who gave him what aid they could, and did not
leave him until they saw him safely deposited in an ambulance, which, in
spite of his entreaties, took him direct to Georgetown. It was a bitter
disappointment to Hugh, so bitter, indeed, that he scarcely felt the
pain when his broken arm was set; and when, at last, he was left alone
in his narrow hospital bed, he turned his face to the wall and cried,
just as many a poor, homesick soldier had done before him, and will do
again.
Twenty-four hours had passed, and in Hugh's room it was growing dark
again. All the day he had watched anxiously the door through which
visitors would enter, asking repeatedly if no one had called for him;
but just as the sun was going down he fell away to sleep, dreaming at
last that Golden Hair was there--that her soft, white hands were on his
brow, her sweet lips pressed to his, while her dear voice murmured
softly: "Darling Hugh!"
There was a cry of pain from a distant corner, and Hugh awoke to
consciousness--awoke to know it was no dream--the soft hands on his
brow, the kiss upon his lips--for Golden Hair was there; and by the
tears she dropped upon his face, and the mute caresses she gave him, he
knew that Sam had told him truly. For several minutes there was silence
between them, while the eyes looked into each other with a deeper
meaning than words could have expressed; then, smoothing back his damp
brown hair, and letting her fingers still rest upon his forehead, Alice
whispered to him: "Why did you distrust me, Hugh? But for that we need
not have been separated so long."