Had there been fighting in quiet, peaceful Gettysburg? Emmeline had picked lint for padding, had wound muslin strips for bandaging, and had seen Gettysburg soldiers who had returned with a leg or an arm missing; but of actual battle Emmeline had no clear idea. She had thought of bugle blasts, of banners flying, of loud, inspiring commands; beyond that her imagination had failed. Now for the first time it became clear to her that actual danger of death threatened those whom she loved. Where was her mother? Had Bertha been taken into the cellar as the soldier advised? Vague recollections of the details of Bertha's illness came to her, scraps of conversation between her mother and Bertha that she had heard as she passed the door of the sick room. A vague, half-formed suspicion flashed into her mind. At this moment Emmeline began suddenly to grow up. But the first speech of her adult life was childish. "I must go home!" she cried, as she sprang from her chair. She ran down the steps and out to the porch. Dankness had come; soldiers lay about on the grass, and the murmur of their voices spread in all directions. The moon was rising; in its first oblique rays all things looked queer and distorted. There were many sounds: the click of pickaxes against stones, the crash of trees that were being felled, the hoarse shouts of officers giving orders. Emmeline rushed to the side of the tall soldier, who was sitting on the steps. "I must go home!" she declared again. "I _must_ go home!" "Now you're just frightened," the tall soldier said. "There ain't no reason for you to be skeered. No harm'll come to you. We ain't wild beasts, sissy." "I must see my mother!" "You'll see her soon, sissy." "My sister-in-law is sick and my brother is away." Emmeline forgot for an instant that this was an enemy of her country. "We haven't heard from him for weeks. He's in the reserves; he--" Remembering the character of her audience, Emmeline paused. Then she added, "I _must_ go home!" The tall soldier changed the subject. "I've got a leetle gal like you; Bessie is her name--Bessie Christy. I haven't seen her for two years." "Why not?" asked Emmeline, curious in spite of herself. "On account of war. Now, Emmyline, 'tisn't every leetle gal can watch the sappers at work before a battle. They're the folks that build the breastworks. Look at them up there! You might see great things if you watched, 'stead of crying. You might see General Lee ride by." "I hate him!" "Now, sissy!" "I hate you all!" Private Christy looked at Emmeline for a moment with a smile on his lips.