Travilla proceeded with
the distribution of the remaining letters.
"From Adelaide, doubtless, and I presume containing the same sad news,"
Mr. Dinsmore said, breaking the seal of another black edged epistle,
directed to him. "Yes, and more," he added, with a groan, as he ran his
eye down the page. "Dick Percival was killed in a skirmish last May; and
Enna is a widow. Poor fellow, I fear he was ill prepared to go."
Mr. Travilla had taken up a newspaper. "Here is an account of that Ball's
Bluff affair, which seems to have been very badly managed on the part of
the Federals. Shall I read it aloud?"
"Oh, yes, yes, if you please," sobbed Rose; "let us know all."
"Badly managed, indeed," was Mr. Dinsmore's comment at the conclusion, "it
looks very like the work of treason."
"And my two dear brothers were part of the dreadful sacrifice," moaned
Rose.
"But oh! how brave, noble, and unselfish they, and many others, showed
themselves in that awful hour," said Elsie amid her sobs and tears. "Dear
mamma, doesn't that comfort you a little?"
"Yes, dear child. Freddie's sweet message still more, Oh, I need not mourn
for him!"
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIFTH.
"Liberty! Freedom! tyranny is dead!
--Run hence, proclaim, cry it about the streets.
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