On the fifth day after Bob’s disappearance, the boy who brought mail from the post-office to the residents along the North and South Turnpike road, left a letter at the Bannister house, a letter which, at the first glance, Mrs. Bannister knew was from Bob. With trembling hands she tore the envelope apart and drew forth the sheet of paper inclosed. In her calmer moments she could have read the letter without difficulty. Now, the words, strangely twisted and distorted, swam before her eyes, and the whole page was an unsolved mystery. She ran to the door calling to her husband:-- “Rhett! Rhett! Here’s a letter--from Rob--come quick!” At his bench in the shop he heard her, and hurried to her side. She thrust the letter into his hands. “Read it!” she exclaimed. “Read it aloud!” So he read it. “IN CAMP AT TURKEY RUN, VA., _October 23, 1863_. “MY DEAREST FATHER AND MOTHER:-- “I know I gave you a good deal of anxiety and distress. I am very sorry for that, but I thought I was doing what was right and now I know I was. I wrote Uncle Seth about it. I suppose he has told you. They wouldn’t take me as a substitute for father, so I thought I would enlist anyway, and I met Sergt. Anderson at Easton, and he brought me down here and got me into his company. The only regret I have is that father isn’t here with me as a soldier. I am so anxious and fearful about him. It is such a splendid thing to be a soldier of the United States. I am so happy, all except about father. We marched here to-day from Auburn. We are in camp here. They say Gen. Meade may take us on down to Fredericksburg and have a battle there. I am very well and happy. Oh, mother, do you remember how the boys wouldn’t have me in the company last summer, and how bad I felt about it? Well, they are still in Mount Hermon playing soldier with wooden swords and guns, and now I am in the army with a real musket and knapsack and canteen, and maybe to-morrow or next day I shall go into a real battle to fight for my country. Oh, mother, I’m so proud of being a soldier. I am in Col. Gordon’s regiment, Co. M, Army of the Potomac, Va. Please write to me. I am so sorry I gave you anxiety about me, but I couldn’t help it. If anything happens to father, tell me. If he could only be here and see things the way I do. Give my dear love to Dottie. “Your affectionate son, “ROBERT BARNWELL BANNISTER.” When he had finished reading the letter, the man held it in his hand and said nothing. Neither did he see anything in the room about him. His eyes were piercing the distance, gazing on a blue-coated stripling in Meade’s army down among the Virginia hills.