doctor wished it, he lapsed into a death-like slumber that would have extinguished hope in those less sanguine than myself. The tattoo had long ago sounded from the hill, and the clash of musketry was silent for the night. No sound of the busy camp-ground was heard, save the measured tread of the guard. The faithful fellow had watched my footsteps from my first advent there, and his pace, pace, pace, on duty, day and night, was a sad reminder that there were more rebels to guard against than those arrayed in battle. The wind rose in wicked wildness, and the rain beat in angry unison. The night was dark, and the elements seemed combined to make it terrible, but the dispatch had gone, and I would hope for the best. Robert returned, however, saying that no boat could pass over the disturbed waters to Cairo that night. It was plain to me that life could not last till morning without aid, and whither turn to get it? I looked out into the night, so dark that the hand could scarcely be seen before the face, and yet it was light compared to the darkness of that future which now threatened me. Alone in the army; alone in the wide, treacherous world. Death in his company had no terrors; life without it, no charms. The thought was too painful to endure, and for relief I walked out into the sad, solemn night. But every object froze my heart. The flag that floated above headquarters alone gave encour agement; and as its heavy folds proudly waved in the breeze, they seemed to whisper to my heart, "Not yet; there is a work for him, for you both to do." I bent the knee in reverence, and earnestly asked God to spare him for that work. I remembered that a man of great medical skill was stationed at Fort Holt, on the Kentucky shore; and, although the broad Mississippi and Ohio rivers lay between us, determined to bring him at once, in spite of the angry waters. Poor Col. Dougherty lay in the room adjoining my husband, groaning under the pain of an amputated limb, and other severe wounds received at Belmont, and he wept at the intelligence of the "Doctor's " hopeless condition. I requested one of the Colonel's watchers to remain with my husband until I returned, took Sambo with me, and started to the river. As I looked for a boat, the darkey's eyes fairly started from their sockets, and he opened a tirade of eloquence that would have been irresistible under other circumstances. But with all his efforts to dissuade me, he promptly obeyed orders, and dashing the boat into the waters, placed the oars, and took his seat between them. I seated myself beside him, and we started for Fort Holt. The river was filled with broken tables of ice, the current was high, and the fog, that always lingered above this locality, was of dense thickness; the fitful wind on shore had not, as usual, lifted it. The prospect ahead looked gloomy, but the prospect behind still gloomier. Our little boat sped for ward, dashing against ice-cakes, hitting against unseen vessels, whose deep barytones told they were lost amid the confusion, and rode the peril ous waves that a larger boat would have sunk under. But life, precious life, was at stake, and tomorrow would surely be "too late." At length, after perils at which, now realizing them, I can not but shudder, we reached the shore and sought the doctor's quarters, the last achievement being not among the least in a strange camp of five thousand soldiers. "Good heavens, madam, you did not cross that river to-night?" said he, as we roused him from his slumbers. "Yes, doctor, I did, and you are going back with me." "Not for a deed to the Point would I go tonight," he replied. "Yes, but to go to save my husband's life, you can not refuse. He may be dead before you get there; but if he is not, I think you can save him." garments, and his eyes Then, saying nothing, he He glanced at our wet rested on my troubled face. quietly but speedily made his preparations for the voyage, and hastened towards the boat with us. The perilous voyage was again accomplished, though repeatedly it seemed as if all was over with our little boat ere it landed us safely upon the Missouri shore. The doctor examined the case well, and could only say that he had a "little more hope" than the rest. He immediately changed the treatment, and gave a solemn promise that he would call twice each day. I again took my place as watch and nurse, and held it for nine consecutive days and nights. Next morning six surgeons came in consultation, and all pronounced the case hopeless. It was the result of bad medical treatment, they said; and many of them, old friends of my husband, shed tears, that "so young, so robust, so skillful a man, should die through the ignorant treatment of medical impostors." But the attentive care of Dr. Bringhurst, his skill and good judgment, brought about results that belied the fatal prognosis. On the ninth day of his treatment the fatal crisis of typhoid fever (for such it had been driven into) was passed, and recovery pronounced certain. As the joyful tidings were announced, for the first and last time in my life I fainted. This was my first introduction to army-life, and altogether the severest trial I had ever been called upon to meet. It is not my intention to reflect unkindly upon surgeons, much as our army at first suffered from inefficient ones. The government soon discovered this class of impostors, and gleaned every one from the field. I hope to be pardoned for speaking at length upon personal matters. A play is not complete without the opening scene, and this is but the first act in a personal tragedy that terminated most sadly. Before I close, I would extend my warmest thanks for the great kindness and sympathy, under this trial, of Mrs. Colonel Erwin and her |