99. XCIX.
I DELIVER UP HARRY SALTOUN'S WATCH, AND MAKE A
DISCOVERY.
Mordaunt had gone to give an order to his second in command,
relating to the movements of the cavalry during his brief
absence, when I was hailed by a laughing voice near me, and
young Harry Saltoun rode up, with one arm in a sling, and held
out his hand.
He looked thin and pale, but his eye was as laughing, his smile
as gay, and his bearing as gallant as ever.
“How are you, Major?” was his easy greeting. “Delighted to
see you again! Just to think of my missing the whole Maryland
campaign!”
“Your wound kept you away?”
“Yes—at that glorious Elm Cottage! Did you ever know
kinder people?”
“They are charming.”
“I believe you.”
“Did you like your young nurse? I believe she took especial
charge of you?”
Harry Saltonn's face colored suddenly—it was a veritable
blush which came to his cheeks.
“Oh, yes,” he stammered, “we became very good friends.
But tell me about Maryland. How sorry I am I did not go with
the cavalry boys! They passed right by my father's—near
Frederick City.”
What did that sudden blush mean? Had Harry Saltoun
fallen in love with Violet Grafton, to whom he had carried Mordaunt's
note, soliciting her good offices for the youth, when he
was wounded?
“You ought to have found out our house,” he continued,
laughing, “and made the old gentleman supply you with rations.
They beat the Confederate article, I tell you!”
“I can testify as much from personal experience,” was my reply,
and, informing the young officer of my visit to his father,
I drew from my breast and gave him his watch.
At sight of it he exhibited the most unmistakable pleasure.
“Thank you, Major!” he exclaimed; “you have done me a
real favor! When I left Maryland I left this behind, and, as I
have always worn it, I felt as if not having it would bring me
bad luck.”
“Take care, or some Yankee will get it.”
“Never—I will die first. I never have been captured yet—for,
you see, I take care of myself!”
“That is no doubt the reason you left Elm Cottage?”
“Precisely! No sooner did I hear that McClellan was ad
vancing than I fell back in good order, and here I am!”
The boy's laughter was like a cordial, and almost made the
gloomy Major Surry smile.
“And you left all well?—your fair nurse and everybody?”
“Perfectly.”
And again, at the utterance of that word “nurse,” Harry Saltoun
blushed unmistakably. The thing was perfectly plain.
“Well, Major,” he said, “good-by, now! Thank you again
for bringing my watch. There is Colonel Mordaunt calling to
you. Did you ever see or read of a more splendid fellow in a
charge? His men adore him—and I would rather have him say
to me, `Well done!' than get another grade from the War
Department.”
With these words the gay youth saluted with the easy grace
which characterized him; and, joining Mordaunt, I rode with
him toward the mountains.
