iazza, which overlooked a sharp dip toward a creek three or four
hundred yards away. The night had rushed down suddenly after the fashion
of the far South, and from the creek they heard faintly the hoarse frogs
calling. Beyond the grounds a close ring of sentinels watched, because
Colonel Winchester had no mind to be surprised again by Forrest or by
Fighting Joe Wheeler or anybody else.

The night was thick and dark and moist with clouds. Dick, despite the
peace that seemed to hang over everything, was oppressed. The desolate
house, even more than the sight of the field after the battle was over,
brought home to him the meaning of war. It was not alone the death
of men but the uprooting of a country for their children and their
children's children as well. Then his mind traveled back to his uncle,
Colonel Kenton, and suddenly he smote his knee.

"What is it, Dick," asked Colonel Winchester, who sat only two or three
yards away.

"Now I remember, sir. When I was only seven or eight years old I heard
my uncle tell of stopping, as I told you, at a great plantation in
Mississippi called Bellevue, but I couldn't recall the name of its
owner. I know him now."

"What is the name, Dick?"

"Woodville, John Woodville. He was a member of the Mississippi Senate,
and he was probably the richest man in the State."

"I think I have heard the name. He is a Confederate colonel now, with
Pemberton's army. No doubt we'll have to fight him later on."

"Meanwhile, we're using his house."

"Fortune of war. But all war is in a sense unfair, because it's usually
a question of the greater force. At any rate, Dick, we won't harm
Colonel Woodville's home."

"Yet in the end, sir, a lot of these great old country places will go,
and what will take their place? You and I, coming from a border state,
know that the colored race is not made up of Uncle Toms."

"Well, Dick, we haven't won yet, and until we do we won't bother
ourselves about the aftermath of war. I'm glad we found so large a place
as this. At the last moment I sent part of the men to the cabins, but
at least three or four hundred must lie here on the piazzas. And most of
them are already asleep. It's lucky they have roofs. Look how the clouds
are gathering!"

As much more room had been made upon the piazzas by the assignment of
men to the cabins, Colonel Winchester and some of his officers also
rested there. Dick, lying between the two blankets which he always
carried in a