cast one fleeting glance at his worsted
adversary who was still half-lying, half-sitting, with the flag under
his elbows, then, his passion quenched, shame and remorse over his
unpatriotic conduct filling his heart, without another word he turned
his back on his companions, thrust his bleeding hands into his
pockets, and started up the road, toward home; his one thought being
to leave as quickly and quietly as possible the scene of his disgrace.
No one followed him, no one called after him; he went alone. He was
hatless and ragged. His rain-soaked garments clung to him with an
indescribable chill. The fire of his anger had burned itself out, and
had left in its place the ashes of despondency and despair. Yet, even
in that hour of depression and self-accusation, he did not dream of
the far-reaching consequences of this one unpremeditated act of
inexcusable folly of which he had just been guilty. He bent down and
gathered some wet snow into his hands and bathed his face, and sopped
it half dry with his handkerchief, already soaked. Then, not caring,
in his condition, to show himself on the main street of the village,
he crossed over to the lane that skirted the out-lots, and went thence
by a circuitous and little traveled route, to Bannerhall.

In the meantime, back in the road by the school-house, Aleck Sands had
picked himself up, still a little dazed, but not seriously hurt, and
soldiers who had recently faced each other in battle came with
unanimity to the rescue of the flag. Hilltops and Riverbeds alike, all
differences and enmities forgotten in this new crisis, they joined in
gathering up the wet and muddy folds, and in bearing them to the
warmth and shelter of the school-house. Here they washed out the
stains, and stretched the banner out to dry, and at dusk, exhausted
and sobered by the events of the day, with serious faces and
apprehensive hearts, they went to their several homes.

CHAPTER V

When Pen reached home on that afternoon after the battle of Chestnut
Hill, he found that his Aunt Millicent was out, and that his
grandfather had not yet returned from Lowbridge, the county seat,
fourteen miles away. He had therefore an opportunity, unseen and
unquestioned, to change his wet clothing for dry, and to bathe and
anoint and otherwise care for his cuts and bruises. When it was all
done he went down to the library and lighted the gas, and found a book
and tried to read. But the words he read were meanin