I could look far away out of the northern window from where I rested, could see the black specks of moving columns of troops beyond the orchard, the vista extending as far as the log church, including a glimpse of the white pike.

The faint odor of near-by camp-fires reached my nostrils, and the murmur of voices was wafted to me on the slight breeze.

Some lad was singing not far away, although the words could not be distinguished, and from the farther distance sounded clearly a cavalry bugle.

I could hardly realize, hardly comprehend what it all meant.

It hurt me to move, and the fever made me half delirious.
I fingered the soft, white sheets almost with awe, and the pillows seemed hot and smothering.