The Drummer Boy Part 40

So he thought, and thought; and prayed silently for the old drummer groaning on his bed of pain; and pleaded for At.w.a.ter lying there, still, with the death-shadow he had foreseen darkening the portal of his body.

And Frank longed for his mother, as he grew weary and weak, until at last sleep came in mercy, and dropped her soft, vapory veil over his soul.

The thrilling news of the victory came north by telegraph. Then followed letters from correspondents, giving details of the battle, when, one morning, Helen Manly ran home in a glow of excitement, bringing a damp and crumpled newspaper.

"News from Frank!" she cried, out of breath.

In a moment the little family was gathered about her, the parents eager and pale.

"Is he living? Tell me that!" said Mrs. Manly.

"Yes, but he has been wounded, and is in the hospital."

"Wounded!" broke forth Mr. Manly in consternation; but his wife kept her soul in silence, waiting with compressed white lips to learn more.

"In the arm--not badly. There is a whole half column about him here. For he has made himself famous--Frank! our dear, dear Frank!" And the quick tears flooding the girl's eyes fell upon the paper.

Mrs. Manly s.n.a.t.c.hed the sheet and read, how her boy had distinguished himself; how he had captured a rebel, and fought gallantly in the ranks, and received a wound without minding it; and how all who had witnessed his conduct, both officers and men, were praising him; it was all there--in the newspaper.

"What adds to the romance of this boy's story," said the writer in conclusion, "is a circ.u.mstance which occurred at the capture of the breastwork. Among the dead and wounded left behind when the enemy took to flight, was a rebel captain, of northern parentage, who came south a few years ago, married a southern belle, became a slaveholder, joined the slaveholders' rebellion in consequence, and lost his life in defence of Roanoke Island. He lived long enough to recognize in the drummer boy _his own younger brother_, and died in his arms."

Great was the agitation into which the family was thrown by this intelligence.

"O that I had the wings of a dove!" said Mrs. Manly. "For I must go, I must go to my child!"

Pride and joy in his youthful heroism, pain and grief for the other's tragic end, all was absorbed in the dreadful uncertainty which hung about the welfare of the favorite son; and she knew that not all the attentions and praises of men could make up to him, there on his sick bed, for the absence of his mother.

The family waited, however,--in what anguish of suspense need not to be told,--until the next mail brought them letters from Mr. Egglestone and Captain Edney. By these, their worst fears were confirmed. Exposure, fatigue, excitement, the wound he had received, had done their work with Frank. He was dangerously ill with a fever.

"O, dear!" groaned Mr. Manly, "this wicked, this wicked rebellion! George is killed, and now Frank! What can we do? what can we do, mother?" he asked, helplessly.

While he was groaning, his wife rose up with that energy which so often atoned for the lack of it in him.

"I am going to Roanoke Island! I am going to my child in the hospital!"

That very day she set out. Alone she went, but she was not long without a companion. On the boat to Fortress Monroe she saw a solitary and disconsolate young woman, whose face she was confident of having seen somewhere before. She accosted her, found her going the same journey with herself, and on a similar errand, and learned her history.

"My husband, that I was married to at the cars just as his regiment was leaving Boston, has been shot at Roanoke Island, and whether he is alive or dead I do not know."

"Your husband," said Mrs. Manly,--"my son knows him well. They were close friends!"

And from that moment the mother of Frank and the wife of At.w.a.ter were close friends also, supporting and consoling each other on the journey.

x.x.xIII.

A FRIEND IN NEED.

At Roanoke Island, a certain tall, lank, athletic private had been detailed for fatigue duty at the landing, when the steamer from the inlet arrived.

Being at leisure, he was watching with an expression of drollery and inquisitiveness for somebody to tell him the news, when he saw two bewildered, anxious women come ash.o.r.e, and look about them, as if waiting for a.s.sistance.

Prompted by his naturally accommodating disposition, and no less by honest curiosity, the soldier stepped up to them.

"Ye don't seem over'n above familiar in these parts, ladies," he said, with his politest grin.

"We are looking for an officer who promised to aid us in finding our friends in the hospital--or at least in getting news from them," said the elder of the two,--a fine-looking, though distressed and careworn woman of forty.

"Sho! wal. I s'pose he's got other things to look after, like as not!"

And the soldier, in his sympathy, cast his eyes around in search of the officer. "Got friends in the hospital, hev ye?" Then peering curiously under the bonnet of the young female, "Ain't you the gal that merried At.w.a.ter?"

"O! do you know him? Is he--is he alive?" By which eager interrogatives he perceived that she was "the gal."

The droll countenance grew solemn. "I ain't edzac'ly prepared to answer that last question, Miss--Miss At.w.a.ter!" he said, with some embarra.s.sment.

"But the fust I can respond to with right good will. Did I know him!"--Tears came into his eyes as he added, "Abe At.w.a.ter, ma'am, was my friend; and a braver soldier or a better man don't at this moment exist!"

"Then you must know my boy, too!" cried the elder female,--"Frank Manly, drummer."

The soldier brightened at once.

"Frank Manly! 'Whom not to know argues one's self unknown.' Your most obedient, ma'am,"--bowing and sc.r.a.ping. "Your son has attracted the attention of the officers, and made himself pop'lar with every body.

Mabby ye haven't heerd----"

"I've heard," interrupted the anxious mother. "But how is he? Tell me that!"

"Wal, he was a little grain more chirk last night, I was told. He has had a fever, and been delirious, and all that--perty nigh losing his chance o' bein' promoted, he was, one spell! But now I guess his life's about as sure's his commission, which Cap'n Edney says there ain't no doubt about."

"So young!" said Mrs. Manly, trembling with interest.

"He's young, but he's got what we want in officers--that is, sperit; he's chock full of that. I take some little pride in him myself," added the private. "We was almost like brothers, me and Frank was! 'In the desert, in the battle, in the ocean-tempest's wrath, we stood together, side by side; one hope was ours, one path!'"

"This, then, is Seth Tucket!" exclaimed Mrs. Manly, who knew him by his poetry.

"That's my name, ma'am, at your service!" And Seth made another tremendous bow. "But I see," he said, "you're anxious; ye want to git to the hospital. I tell ye, Frank'll be glad to see ye; he used to rave about you in his delirium; he would call '_mother! mother!_' sometimes half the night."

"Poor child! poor, dear child!" said Mrs. Manly. "I can't wait! help me, sir,--show me the way to him, if nothing more!"

"h.e.l.lo!" shouted Seth. "Whose cart is this? Where's the driver of this cart? It's been standin' here this hour, and n.o.body owns it." He jumped into it. "Who claims this vehicle? 'Who so base as would not help a woman? If any, speak! for him have I offended!' n.o.body? Then I take the responsibility--and the cart too! Hop in, ladies. Here's a board for you to set on. I'll drive ye to the hospital, and bring back the kerridge before Uncle Sam misses it."

The women were only too glad to accept the invitation, and they were soon seated on the board. Seth adjusted his anatomy to the edge of the cart-box, and drove off. But he soon stood up, declaring that a hungry fellow like him couldn't stand that board,--he was too sharp set.

Mrs. Manly did not venture to ask again about At.w.a.ter,--what he had already said of him having gone so heavily to the poor wife's heart. But she could inquire about the old drum-major, who, she had heard, was wounded.

"Old Sinjin? Wal! I'm in jest the same dilemmy consarning him as At.w.a.ter.