s over Richmond thickened and darkened and was cut through here and
there by the towers of flame which were leaping higher and higher. Then
a strong breeze sprang up, blowing off the river, and the fire reached
the warehouses filled with cotton, which burned almost like gunpowder,
and the conflagration gathered more volume and vigour. The wind whirled
it about in vast surges and eddies. Ashes and sparks flew in showers.
The light of the sun was obscured by the wide roof of smoke, but beneath
there was the lurid light of the fire. The men saw the faces of each
other in a crimson glow, and in such a light the mind, too, magnified
and distorted the objects that the eye beheld. The victorious soldiers
themselves looked with awe upon the burning city. They had felt, in no
event, any desire to plunder or destroy; and now it was alike their
instinct and wish to save. Regiment after regiment stacked arms on
Shockoe Hill, divided into companies under the command of officers, and
disappeared down the smoking street--not now fighters of battles, but
fighters of fire. The Yankees had, indeed, come in time, for to them the
saving of the city from entire ruin was due. All day they worked with
the people who were left, among the torrents of flame and smoke,
suppressing the fire in places, and in others, where they could not,
taking out the household goods and heaping them in the squares. They
worked, too, to an uncommon chorus. Cartridges and shells were exploding
in the burning magazines, the cartridges with a steady crackle and the
shells with a hiss and a scream and then a stream of light. All the time
the smoke grew thicker and stung the eyes of those who toiled in its
eddies.

Man gradually conquered, and night came upon a city containing acres and
acres of smoking ruins, but with the fires out and a part left fit for
human habitation. Then Prescott turned to go. The Harley house was swept
away, and the Grayson cottage had suffered the same fate; but the
inmates of both were gathered at his mother's home and he knew they
were safe. The stern, military discipline of the conquerors would soon
cover every corner of the city, and there would be no more drinking, no
more rioting, no more fires.

His mother embraced him and wept for the first time.

"I would have you stay now," she said, "but if you will go I say nothing
against it."

Lucia Catherwood gave him her hand and a look which said, "I, too, await
your return."

Prescott