THE roarings that had stretched in a long lineof sound across the face of the forest began togrow intermittent and weaker. The stentorianspeeches of the artillery continued in some dis-tant encounter, but the crashes of the musketryhad almost ceased. The youth and his friend ofa sudden looked up, feeling a deadened form ofdistress at the waning of these noises, which hadbecome a part of life. They could see changesgoing on among the troops. There were march-ings this way and that way. A battery wheeledleisurely. On the crest of a small hill was thethick gleam of many departing muskets.

The youth arose. "Well, what now, I won-der?" he said. By his tone he seemed to bepreparing to resent some new monstrosity inthe way of dins and smashes. He shaded hiseyes with his grimy hand and gazed over thefield.

His friend also arose and stared. "I bet

226we're goin' t' git along out of this an' back overth' river," said he.

"Well, I swan!" said the youth.

They waited, watching. Within a little whilethe regiment received orders to retrace its way.The men got up grunting from the grass, regret-ting the soft repose. They jerked their stiffenedlegs, and stretched their arms over their heads.One man swore as he rubbed his eyes. They allgroaned "O Lord!" They had as many objec-tions to this change as they would have had to aproposal for a new battle.

They trampled slowly back over the fieldacross which they had run in a mad scamper.

The regiment marched until it had joined itsfellows. The reformed brigade, in column, aimedthrough a wood at the road. Directly they werein a mass of dust-covered troops, and weretrudging along in a way parallel to the enemy'slines as these had been defined by the previousturmoil.

They passed within view of a stolid whitehouse, and saw in front of it groups of their com-rades lying in wait behind a neat breastwork. Arow of guns were booming at a distant enemy.Shells thrown in reply were raising clouds ofdust and splinters. Horsemen dashed along theline of intrenchments.

At this point of its march the division curvedaway from the field and went winding off in thedirection of the river. When the significance ofthis movement had impressed itself upon theyouth he turned his head and looked over hisshoulder toward the trampled and debris-strewedground. He breathed a breath of new satisfac-tion. He finally nudged his friend. "Well, it'sall over," he said to him.

His friend gazed backward. "B'Gawd, itis," he assented. They mused.

For a time the youth was obliged to reflectin a puzzled and uncertain way. His mind wasundergoing a subtle change. It took momentsfor it to cast off its battleful ways and resumeits accustomed course of thought. Gradually hisbrain emerged from the clogged clouds, and atlast he was enabled to more closely compre-hend himself and circumstance.

He understood then that the existence of shotand counter-shot was in the past. He had dweltin a land of strange, squalling upheavals and hadcome forth. He had been where there was redof blood and black of passion, and he was es-caped. His first thoughts were given to rejoic-ings at this fact.

Later he began to study his deeds, his fail-ures, and his achievements. Thus, fresh fromscenes where many of his usual machines of re-flection had been idle, from where he had pro-ceeded sheeplike, he struggled to marshal all hisacts.

At last they marched before him clearly.From this present view point he was enabledto look upon them in spectator fashion andto criticise them with some correctness, for hisnew condition had already defeated certain sym-pathies.

Regarding his procession of memory he feltgleeful and unregretting, for in it his public deedswere paraded in great and shining prominence.Those performances which had been witnessedby his fellows marched now in wide purple andgold, having various deflections. They wentgayly with music. It was pleasure to watch thesethings. He spent delightful minutes viewing thegilded images of memory.

He saw that he was good. He recalled witha thrill of joy the respectful comments of his fel-lows upon his conduct.

Nevertheless, the ghost of his flight fromthe first engagement appeared to him anddanced. There were small shoutings in hisbrain about these matters. For a moment heblushed, and the light of his soul flickered withshame.

A specter of reproach came to him. Thereloomed the dogging memory of the tatteredsoldier--he who, gored by bullets and faint forblood, had fretted concerning an imagined woundin another; he who had loaned his last of strengthand intellect for the tall soldier; he who, blindwith weariness and pain, had been deserted inthe field.

For an instant a wretched chill of sweat wasupon him at the thought that he might bedetected in the thing. As he stood persistentlybefore his vision, he gave vent to a cry of sharpirritation and agony.

His friend turned. "What's the matter,Henry?" he demanded. The youth's reply wasan outburst of crimson oaths.

As he marched along the little branch-hungroadway among his prattling companions thisvision of cruelty brooded over him. It clungnear him always and darkened his view of thesedeeds in purple and gold. Whichever way histhoughts turned they were followed by thesomber phantom of the desertion in the fields.He looked stealthily at his companions, feelingsure that they must discern in his face evidencesof this pursuit. But they were plodding inragged array, discussing with quick tongues theaccomplishments of the late battle.

"Oh, if a man should come up an' ask me, I'dsay we got a dum good lickin'."

"Lickin'--in yer eye! We ain't licked, sonny.We're goin' down here aways, swing aroun', an'come in behint 'em."

"Oh, hush, with your comin' in behint 'em.I've seen all 'a that I wanta. Don't tell me aboutcomin' in behint--"

"Bill Smithers, he ses he'd rather been inten hundred battles than been in that heluvahospital. He ses they got shootin' in th' night-time, an' shells dropped plum among 'em in th'hospital. He ses sech hollerin' he never see."

"Hasbrouck? He's th' best off'cer in thishere reg'ment. He's a whale."

"Didn't I tell yeh we'd come aroun' in behint'em? Didn't I tell yeh so? We--"

"Oh, shet yeh mouth!"

For a time this pursuing recollection of thetattered man took all elation from the youth'sveins. He saw his vivid error, and he was afraidthat it would stand before him all his life. Hetook no share in the chatter of his comrades, nordid he look at them or know them, save when hefelt sudden suspicion that they were seeing histhoughts and scrutinizing each detail of the scenewith the tattered soldier.

Yet gradually he mustered force to put the sinat a distance. And at last his eyes seemed toopen to some new ways. He found that he couldlook back upon the brass and bombast of hisearlier gospels and see them truly. He wasgleeful when he discovered that he now despisedthem.

With this conviction came a store of assur-ance. He felt a quiet manhood, nonassertive butof sturdy and strong blood. He knew that hewould no more quail before his guides wher-ever they should point. He had been to touchthe great death, and found that, after all, it wasbut the great death. He was a man.

So it came to pass that as he trudged fromthe place of blood and wrath his soul changed.He came from hot plowshares to prospects ofclover tranquilly, and it was as if hot plowshareswere not. Scars faded as flowers.

It rained. The procession of weary soldiersbecame a bedraggled train, despondent andmuttering, marching with churning effort in atrough of liquid brown mud under a low,wretched sky. Yet the youth smiled, for he sawthat the world was a world for him, though manydiscovered it to be made of oaths and walkingsticks. He had rid himself of the red sickness ofbattle. The sultry nightmare was in the past.He had been an animal blistered and sweating inthe heat and pain of war. He turned now with alover's thirst to images of tranquil skies, freshmeadows, cool brooks--an existence of soft andeternal peace.

Over the river a golden ray of sun camethrough the hosts of leaden rain clouds.