up and told that, because of some bushwhackers' deeds of which we knew nothing, before the day had set a like number of Confederate prisoners must die. God! but we could not believe the words were earnest. Not long, however, were we left in doubt. The edict had gone forth, and that, too, by order of a son of Kentucky. And when we asked for justice, for the rights due a soldier, we were told that for every man the cowardly bushwhacker shot one of us must be sacrificed. Our names were written on slips and put into a hat, and a comrade of the men who were to die was forced to draw the lot-forced, I say, to draw the papers out and hear the names one by one read off, and see the man each paper named led out until the full quota were drawn and all stood up to die."

"And my son?"

"He was blessed, as contrasted with the man who speaks to you."

Warwick gazed intently at his guest. "What did my son do that he should be called blessed? What had you done to merit such words of shame?"

"Warwick, it was I who drew the papers from

the hat. It was I who drew the slip that bore the name of Ezra Warwick. My name, too, was in that hat. God! but I would that it could have touched my fingers first."

Not a muscle of Warwick's face moved.

"And my son Ezra stood in that line?" "Yes."

"Is there more to tell?"

"No. I have fulfilled the promise made your boy. By the help of a generous Federal colonel who loaned me this suit of blue and gave me this horse, and paroled me on my honor to return, I am here to tell the father of my comrade that which I have said. To-morrow I must start back again."

Warwick, strong as was his faith, could not bear this stroke unmoved. His mind reverted, first, to the oath he had that summer taken, the oath of Burbridge; next, to his son who, near the path of Middlecreek, fell by the bullet of his sister because of that same oath. Now the other son was gone, shot down, a helpless prisoner. Back and forth in his chair the strong man swayed; then he turned a pitiful, helpless gaze on Joshua, who sat in the shadows.

"My son Ezra, my first-born son, is no more. God chasteneth me, His servant, near to the extent of human endurance. My God, my God, why afflictest Thou me so sorely? My son, my

son!"

There was no reply.

Appealingly Warwick spoke again. “Joshua, I am come into deep waters, where the floods overflow me. Joshua, ask your sister to come to her father. I would feel her light hand upon my brow, I would have my daughter's arms about my neck. Ask your sister to come and comfort her father, Joshua, my son."

The boy made no movement.

"Your sister, boy. I am very lonely."

"Pap," said Joshua, and he moved over and took both his father's hands, "Pap, I must be your comfort now. Sister's gone away forever."

CHAPTER XV.

"PAP'S HIMSELF AGʼIN.”

"FATHER," said Joshua, "thet rock-hunter came to us a stranger. You saved his life from the flood in the creek; you gave him a bed in our house; you trusted him.”

"I trusted the Lord, my son."

"And what has the Lord done for you, father? While you prayed to the Lord, the rock-hunter was saying soft words to sister. You sang praises and psalms, and the rock-hunter sang love songs. You trusted the Lord and went to the 'sociation to preach the Lord's Word, and sister trusted the rock-hunter."

"Father," continued the boy, "et's tough to stand what you've stood and stick to the Lord through et all. First, the Home Guards marched into the meetin'-house, the Lord's own house, and

pulled you out. Next, they toted you to jail and made you took the iron-clad oath thet disgraced us all. Then you had to go back on General Morgan because of the oath; and because of et, too, sister went out in the night to do what she'd not hev had to do ef you hadn't been so trustin'. Next, she shot brother Samuel through the heart. Now, brother Ezra's murdered, shot like a pigeon, and sister's lost forever. You're trustin' the Lord yet, pap. Isn't it time to begin to trust in yourself, er in me?"

No reply came from the afflicted man; but his chest heaved heavily.

"I don't mean no harm, pap, but I says thet et's time now fer you to turn to yourself er to me. Go back with this man and git brother's body, and let me go North and track thet rockhunter. Let me find thet villain; trust now my arm and gun, fer, I says, now es the time to trust in powder and ball; now es the time to shoot."

"Son," Warwick said at last, "the girl you once called sister has deserted her home. She has abandoned her father in this, his day of trouble and distress; she has now no father, no brother-this girl you once called sister. My cup is full; no more shame, no more sorrow, can come to me."