corned to read. He had not been into
the city since he called at his father's house, and walked into the
reception room of his aunt, and been refused interview or speech at
either place. "Very well," he thought, "I will go from this painful
inhospitality and coldness to my Paradise"; and he went, and remained.

The only letter he wrote was to his old friend and favorite cousin, Tom
Russell,--who was away somewhere in the far South, and from whom he had
not heard for many a day,--and hoped that he, at least, would not
disappoint him; would not disappoint the hearty trust he had in his
breadth of nature and manly sensibility.

And so, with clouds doubtless in the sky, but which they did not
see,--the sun shone so bright for them; and some discords in the minor
keys which they did not heed,--the major music was so sweet and
intoxicating,--the brief, glad hours wore away, and the time for
parting, with hasty steps, had almost reached and faced them. Meanwhile,
what was occurring to others, in other scenes and among other
surroundings?

CHAPTER XV

"_There are some deeds so grand
That their mighty doers stand
Ennobled, in a moment, more than kings._"

BOKER

It was towards the evening of a blazing July day on Morris Island. The
mail had just come in and been distributed. Jim, with some papers and a
precious missive from Sallie in one hand, his supper in the other,
betook himself to a cool spot by the river,--if, indeed, any spot could
be called cool in that fiery sand,--and proceeded to devour the letter
with wonderful avidity while the "grub," properly enough, stood
unnoticed and uncared for. Presently he stopped, rubbed his eyes, and
re-read a paragraph in the epistle before him, then re-rubbed, and read
it again; and then, laying it down, gave utterance to a long whistle,
expressive of unbounded astonishment, if not incredulity.

The whistle was answered by its counterpart, and Jim, looking up,
beheld his captain,--Coolidge by name,--a fast, bright New York boy,
standing at a little distance, and staring with amazed eyes at a paper
he held in his hands. Glancing from this to Jim, encountering his look,
he burst out laughing and came towards him.

"Helloa, Given!" he called: Jim was a favorite with him, as indeed with
pretty much every one with whom he came in contact, officers and
men,--"you, too, seem put out. I wonder if you've read anything as queer
as that," handing him the paper and strikin