hey been men of iron, worked by a spring, they
could not have moved with more clock-like regularity. And yet, no doubt,
they had one time been country louts like any others. Truly there was
much virtue in discipline. Yet still, and here I shook my head, the
Virginia troops were brave as any in the world, and would prove it. From
the officers' quarters came the sound of singing and much laughter, and I
flushed as I thought perchance it was at me they laughed. I have learned
long since that no man's laughter need disturb rue, so my heart be clear,
but this was wisdom far beyond my years and yet undreamed of, and I shook
my fist at the row of lighted windows.

"What, still fuming, Tom?" cried a voice at my elbow, and I turned to
find Colonel Washington there; "and staring over toward the barracks as
though you would like to gobble up every one within! Well, I admit you
have cause," he added, and I saw that his face grew stern. "You may have
to bear many such insults before the campaign is ended, but I hope and
believe that the conduct of the Virginia troops will yet win them the
respect of the regulars. You seem to have lost no time in getting to
camp," he added, in a lighter tone.

"There was nothing to keep me at Riverview," I answered bitterly. "My
absence is much preferred to my presence there. Had I not come to
Winchester, I must have gone somewhere else. Your letter came most
opportunely."

"You are out of humor to-night, Tom," said Washington, but his tone was
kindly, and he placed one hand upon my arm as we turned back toward the
cabin where my quarters were. He was scarce three years my senior, yet to
me he seemed immeasurably the elder. I had always thought of him as of a
man, and I verily believe he was a man in mind and temper while yet a boy
in body. I had ridden beside him many times over his mother's estate, and
I had noticed--and chafed somewhat at the knowledge--that women much
older than he always called him Mr. Washington, while even that little
chit of a Polly Johnston called me Tom to my face, and laughed at me when
I assumed an air of injured dignity. I think it was the fact that my
temper was so the opposite of his own which drew him to me, and as for
myself, I was proud to have such a friend, and of the chance to march
with him again over the mountains against the French.

He knew well how to humor me, and walked beside me, saying nothing. I
glanced at his face, half shamed of my petulance, and I