I'd like to be under you when you get the troops you were telling me about; but--God knows best." Surrey sat gazing earnestly into space, crowded by emotions called up by these last words, whilst Abram lay watching him with admiring and loving eyes.

"For me and mine," he repeated softly, his look fastening on the blue sleeve, which hung, limp and empty, near his hand.

This he put out cautiously, but drew it back at some slight movement from his companion; then, seeing that he was still absorbed, advanced it, once more, and slowly, timidly, gently, lifted it to his mouth, pressing his lips upon it as upon a shrine.

"For me and mine!" he whispered,--"for me and mine!" tears dimming the pathetic, dying eyes.
The peaceful quiet was broken by a tempest of awful sound,--groans and shrieks and yells mingled in horrible discord, blended with the trampling of many feet,--noises which seemed to their startled and excited fancies like those of hell itself.

The next moment a door was flung open; and Mrs.Franklin, bruised, lame, her garments torn, blood flowing from a cut on her head, staggered into the room.