"My husband," came the answer in a weak voice, "is lying across the street in our burning home. He was the minister here in Hilgard. These last days have been fearful, general; you have no idea how fearful. First they shot my husband, and then our little Elly was killed by a piece of shell when I was running across the street to the church with her and the boy." She paused a moment, and then continued with growing agitation: "It's enough to make one lose faith in the wisdom of the Lord to see this butchery--all the heartrending sorrow that's created in the world when men begin to murder one another like this. You don't realize it in the midst of the battle, but here-- And as God has seen fit to spare His church in the battle, I asked the boy to ring the bells once more, for I thought it might be a comfort to some of those dying out there to hear a voice from above proclaiming peace after these awful days. Let him keep on ringing, general, won't you?" "Can I help you in any way?" asked the captain. "No, only I should like some water." The captain knelt down by the side of the poor, deserted woman and handed her his flask. She drank greedily, and then thanked him and began to sob softly. "What will become of my boy? My poor husband----" "My good woman," said the captain, forcing himself to speak bluntly, "it's not a question of this boy, or of a single individual who has fallen in battle, but rather of a great people which has just defeated the enemy. The widows and orphans will be taken care of by the survivors, now that the Lord has given us the victory. Those who are lying outside the town and those here have surrendered their lives for their country, and the country will not forget them." Ding--dong, ding--dong, went the bells as the captain left the church, deeply affected. Ding--dong, ding--dong. Thousands out on the battle-field in the throes of death, and the many unfortunates lying with broken limbs in the burning houses and watching the flames creeping towards them, heard that last call from on high, like a call from God, Who seemed to have turned away from our people. And then evening came, the evening of the sixteenth of August, which is recorded with bloody letters on the pages of our country's history. Soon all the reserves were engaged in battle. Our splendid regiments could not be checked, so eager were they to push forward, and they succeeded in storming one of the enemy's positions after the other along the mountain-side. At last the enemy began to retreat, and the thunder of the cannon was again and again drowned in the frenzied cheers. General MacArthur was continually receiving at his headquarters reports of fresh victories in the front and on both wings. The telegraph wires had long ago spread the glad tidings over the length and breadth of the land. Great joy reigned in every town, the Stars and Stripes waved proudly from all the houses, and the people's hearts were fluttering with exultation.