al in that battle, and
Hamilton and John were dead; he alone remained, and it was not just. He
felt that the Great Reaper had spared the weed among the flowers, and
he was bitter against the Great Reaper. But there was one more sorrow
reserved for Aladdin, and he was to blaspheme against the God that made
him.

There was still desultory firing from both armies. As when, on the
Fourth of July, you set off a whole bunch of firecrackers, there is
at first a crackling roar, and afterward a little explosion here and a
little explosion there, so Gettysburg must have sounded to the gods in
Olympus. Thunder-clouds begotten of the intense heat rolled across
the heavens from east to west, accentuating the streaming glory of
the setting sun, and now distant thunder rumbled, with a sound as of
artillery crossing a bridge. Drops of rain fell here and there.

Aladdin heard himself called by name, "'Laddin, 'Laddin."

As quickly as the brain is advertised of an insect's sting, so quickly
did Aladdin recognize the voice and know that his brother. Jack was
calling to him. He turned, and saw a little freckled boy, in a uniform
much too big for him, trailing a large musket.

"Jack!" he cried, and rushed toward him with outstretched arms. "You
little beggar, what are you doin' here?"

Jack grinned like one confessing to a successful theft of apples
belonging to a cross farmer. And then God saw fit to take away his life.
He dropped suddenly, and there came a rapid pool of blood where his face
had been. With his arms wrapped about the little figure that a moment
before had been so warlike and gay, Aladdin turned toward the heavens a
face of white flint.

"I believe in one God, Maker of hell!" he cried.

Thunder rumbled and rolled slowly across the battle-field from east, to
west.

"I believe in one God, Maker of hell!" cried Aladdin, "Father of
injustice and doer of hellish deeds! I believe in two damnations, the
damnation of the living and the damnation of the dead."

He turned to the little boy in his arms, and terrible sobs shook his
body, so that it appeared as if he was vomiting. After a while he turned
his convulsed face again to the sky.

"Come down," he cried, "come down, you--"

Far down the hill there was a puff of white smoke, and a merciful
bullet, glancing from a rock, struck Aladdin on the head with sufficient
force to stretch him senseless upon the ground.

When the news of Gettysburg reached the Northern cities