though nobody was there beside the
essentials, save the family and a dear friend of Robert's, who was with
him at the time, as he had been before and would be often again,--none
other than William Surrey's favorite cousin and friend, Tom Russell.

The letter which Surrey had written never reached his hand till he lay
almost dying from the effects of wounds and exposure, after he had been
brought in safety to our lines by his faithful black friends, at Morris
Island. Surrey had not mistaken his temper; gay, reckless fellow, as he
was, he was a thorough gentleman, in whom could harbor no small spite,
nor petty prejudice,--and without a mean fibre in his being. At a glance
he took in the whole situation, and insisting upon being propped up in
bed, with his own hand--though slowly, and as a work of
magnitude--succeeded in writing a cordial letter of congratulation and
affection, that would have been to Surrey like the grasp of a brother's
hand in a strange and foreign country, had it ever reached his touch and
eyes.

But even while Tom lay writing his letter, occasionally muttering,
"They'll have a devilish hard time of it!" or "Poor young un!" or "She's
one in a million!" or some such sentence which marked his feeling and
care,--these two of whom he thought, to whose future he looked with such
loving anxiety, were beyond the reach of human help or hindrance,--done
alike with the sorrows and joys of time.

From a distance, with the help of a glass, and absorbing interest, he
had followed the movements of the flag and its bearer, and had cheered,
till he fainted from weakness and exhaustion, as he saw them safe at
last. It was with delight that he found himself on the same transport
with Ercildoune, and discovered in him the brother of the young girl for
whom, in the past, he had had so pleasing and deep a regard, and whose
present and future were so full of interest for him, in their new and
nearer relations.

These two young men, unlike as they were in most particulars, were drawn
together by an irresistible attraction. They had that common bond,
always felt and recognized by those who possess it, of the gentle
blood,--tastes and instincts in common, and a fine, chivalrous
sentiment which each felt and thoroughly appreciated in the other. The
friendship thus begun grew with the passing years, and was intensified a
hundred fold by a portion of the past to which they rarely referred, but
which lay always at the bottom o