riends!" exclaimed the major as he
stood with the unopened document in his hand.

"And so are you. Without you, I should have been in a rebel prison or
under the sod at this time."

"God bless you, Somers!" ejaculated De Banyan, as with trembling hand he
opened the envelope, and took therefrom his major's commission. "I have
loved you just like a younger brother; not selfishly, my dear boy, but
with my whole heart. You haven't disappointed me, only once, when----"

"Don't mention it. I thought you were a rebel then, but I repented."

"I don't blame you. Now, Somers, you are going home. May God bless you
and keep you! I shall be as sad as a maiden who has lost her lover, while
you are gone."

"I shall not be absent long. We shall be together again in a few weeks."

"I hope so. I have no home now. It has been desolated by treason. I heard
since I came over that my wife was dead. I had a son, a boy of fifteen; I
know not where he is. Well, well; I will not groan or complain. I will do
my duty to my country, and that shall cheer my heart;" and with an effort
of his powerful will, he banished the sad reflections from his mind, and
smiled as though earth had no sorrows. "After the battle of Magenta, I
had the blues, and----"

"One word, De Banyan. _Were_ you at the battle of Magenta?" said Somers
solemnly.

The major looked on the ground, at the commission he had just received,
and then into the sympathizing face of his friend.

"To tell the truth, Somers, I was not; but I fought in every battle in
Mexico, from Vera Cruz up to the capital."

Somers improved this opportunity to repeat the injunction of the general.

"Now promise me, major, that you will never say Magenta or anything of
the sort again as long as you live," added Somers.

"That would be a rash promise. I have got a bad habit, and I will try to
cure myself of it. On my soul I will, my dear boy!"

In the course of the conversation the major, who was now in a
truth-telling mood, informed Somers that he had, after his escape from
the rebel army, enlisted in the regular army, where he had been made a
sergeant, and, through the influence of a Massachusetts officer, had been
commissioned as a captain. His gallantry had won a swift reward.

On the following day they parted on board the transport in the river; and
in that sad hour the friendship which, though brief in duration, had been
fruitful enough for a lifetime, was pledged for the future. They parte