at once, which will give me between
sixty and seventy thousand dollars, and as fast as I make any of the
bonds from contracts, I will sell them for whatever gold they will
bring."

"That's a capital idea, my dear follow," said Bell, rising from his
chair and slapping Awtry on the shoulder; "I think I shall follow your
plan."

The cigars having been brought in, after a few minutes of unimportant
conversation, Charles Bell left his friend, with the arrangement to
meet at the Varieties theatre in the evening, and Horace Awtry,
divesting himself of his clothing, retired to sleep until the evening
should come.

CHAPTER FOURTH.

A POLITIC STROKE--THE TELEGRAPHIC DISPATCH.

June and half of July had sped swiftly away. The great battle, which
everybody daily expected, had been fought, and the Yankee army
ignominiously defeated. As every one of our readers are well
acquainted with this battle, I shall not go into any details; enough;
as history will tell, to know that it resulted in a glorious victory
to the Confederate army, and covered the gallant Southerners with
honor.

On the arrival of dispatches giving an account of this victory, to use
a vulgar phrase, New Orleans "ran wild." The excitement and exultation
of the people were beyond description, and during the same night that
the news was received, one scene of gayety was observed in the city.
There was one heart, however, that did not share the joy and merriment
so universal among the people. In the privacy of her dwelling, with
her two children near by, Mrs. Wentworth spent a night of prayer and
anxiety, and next morning rose from her bed with the same feeling of
anxiety to know whether her husband had escaped unhurt. At about ten
o'clock in the morning, a knock was heard at the door, and soon after
Mr. Awtry entered.

"How are you this morning, Mrs. Wentworth?" he said, taking her little
daughter in his arms and kissing her; "so we have gained a great
victory in Virginia."

"Yes," she replied; "but I do feel so anxious to know if my husband is
safe."

"Do not think for a moment otherwise," he answered; "why a soldier's
wife should not show half as much solicitude as you do."

"I am, indeed, very desirous of knowing his fate and I am sure the
fact of being a soldier's wife does not prevent my feeling a desire to
ascertain if he is unhurt, or if he is"--she paused at the thought
which seemed so horrid in her imagination, and lowering her face in
h