Emmeline's mouth quivered. "Do men like to fight?" she asked, blinking drowsily. "Like to fight?" repeated Private Christy. "Like to fight, Emmyline? Like layin' up there with arms and legs ruined? Like livin' their days without half a body? Of course they don't like it!" "Will there be more wounds to-morrow?" asked Emmeline stupidly. "Where there's fighting, there's wounds." "Will it last after to-morrow?" "God help us, no!" said Private Christy. CHAPTER V PRIVATE CHRISTY SAYS FAREWELL On the morning of July 3, Emmeline got up earlier than she had on the morning of July 2. Disturbed by dreams and oppressed by the heat, she had slept restlessly. She had waked once in the night, and had gone to the window to look down upon the woods into which the Union prisoners had vanished. There, except for the stamping of restless horses, all was quiet; but beyond, toward the west, there was incessant movement. Fresh troops were arriving and were settling down for a few hours of heavy sleep. Emmeline could hear Private Christy making his rounds in the farmhouse. Now he was in the kitchen; now he brought fresh water from the pump; now he spoke soothingly to one of his comrades. When Emmeline woke again, daylight had come, and the great host was already astir. Men laughed; even in this house of pain the soldiers were merry. Downstairs Private Christy had built a fire in the stove; Emmeline could hear the crackling flames. Stiff and sore, she rose, and, after braiding her long hair and contemplating the stained untidiness of her limp ruffles, she went down the steps. She was very tired; her mouth drooped and her eyelids seemed to have weights upon them. Downstairs the wounded soldiers were trying to sit up; some even tried to stand. One man proclaimed his intention of joining his company as soon as he had eaten. Almost immediately, as if in answer to his boasting, his knees gave way and he sank to the floor. Private Christy greeted Emmeline cheerfully:-- "Here's hot coffee for you. You look a leetle droopy. Drink this and you'll feel like a two-year-old." Choking back her tears, which seemed to flow without any excuse, Emmeline took the cup of coffee and sat down. She lifted the cup to her lips, and then put it back into the saucer. "I hear a noise!" she cried. "They are shooting again!" "That's way off," answered Private Christy. "That's miles off." "It's near Gettysburg!" Emmeline now wept outright. "I have so many troubles I can't count them all. My mother is in danger and my brother is a prisoner--I am sure it was my brother! Perhaps my home is destroyed!" "Oh, no, sissy!" "Can I go down to the woods to find my brother?" "I ain't in charge of that woods, Emmyline." "Will they take him away?" "I don't know." "You don't know anything!" stormed Emmeline. Private Christy's gray eyes twinkled. It was much better to hear Emmeline storm than to have to watch her cry.