"
"And yet no worse than that of thousands of innocent men," remarked Jones
bitterly. "Where's the justice of it?"
"Do you expect even-handed justice here?" inquired another.
"Perhaps he may be no worse in the sight of God, than some of the rest of
us," said Harold, in low, grave tones; "we do not know what evil
influences may have surrounded him from his very birth, or whether,
exposed to the same, we would have turned out any better."
"I'm perishing with thirst," said Jones, "and must try pushing through
that crowd about the spring."
He wandered off and the group scattered, leaving Harold and Duncan alone
together.
The two had a long talk: of home, common friends and acquaintance; of the
war, what this or that Federal force was probably now attempting; what
future movements were likely to be made, and how the contest would end;
neither doubting the final triumph of the government.
"And that triumph can't be very far off either," concluded Harry. "I think
the struggle will be over before this time next year, and I hope you and I
may have a hand in the winding up."
"Perhaps you may," Allison rejoined a little sadly; "but I, I fear, have
struck my last blow for my native land."
"You are not strong now, but good nursing may do wonders for you,"
answered Harry cheerily.
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