Bennie to his country, that not a
father in all this broad land made so precious a gift--no, not one. The
dear boy only slept a minute, just one little minute at his post; I
know that was all, for Bennie never dozed over a duty. How prompt and
reliable he was! I know he only fell asleep one little second--he was
so young and not strong, that boy of mine. Why, he was as tall as I, and
only eighteen! And now they shoot him because he was found asleep
when doing sentinel duty. "Twenty-four hours," the telegram said, only
twenty-fours hours. Where is Bennie now?"

"We will hope with his heavenly Father," said Mr. Allen soothingly.

"Yes, yes; let us hope; God is very merciful! 'I should be ashamed,
father,' Bennie said, 'when I am a man to think I never used this great
right arm'--and he held it out proudly before me--'for my country when
it needed it. Palsy it, rather than keep it at the plow.' 'Go, then, my
boy, and God keep you!' I said. God has kept him, I think, Mr. Allen!"
And the farmer repeated these last words slowly, as if in spite of his
reason his heart doubted them.

"Like the apple of the eye, Mr. Owen; doubt it not."

Blossom sat near them listening with blanched cheek. She had not shed a
tear. Her anxiety had been so concealed that no one had noticed it.
She had occupied herself mechanically in the household cares. Now,
she answered a gentle tap at the door, opening it to receive from a
neighbor's hand a letter. "It is from him," was all she said.

It was like a message from the dead! Mr. Owen took the letter, but could
not break the envelope on account of his trembling fingers, and held it
toward Mr. Allen, with the helplessness of a child. The minister opened
it and read as follows:

"Dear Father:--When this reaches you I shall be in eternity. At first it
seemed awful to me, but I have thought so much about it that now it has
no terror. They say they will not bind me, nor blind me, but that I may
meet death like a man. I thought, father, that it might have been on the
battle field, for my country, and that when I fell, it would be fighting
gloriously; but to be shot down like a dog for nearly betraying it--to
die for neglect of duty! O, father! I wonder the very thought does not
kill me! But I shall not disgrace you; I am going to write you all about
it, and when I am gone you may tell my comrades. I cannot, now.

"You know I promised Jemmie Carr's mother I would look after her boy;
and when he fell