As they drew nearer to the shores of their native country, Justin and Britomarte began to experience an intense and ever deepening anxiety. How, after so long an absence, should they find the friends they had left at home? Were they well? Were they even living? Who could tell? How slow was their approach to their destination! how torturing their suspense! There came a day when Lieutenant Ethel said: “In three weeks, if we have good luck, we shall make New York harbor.” And then they counted the weeks, until the morning came when the young commander said: “If this weather holds we shall be in port in four days.” And then they counted the days until the night arrived in which the lieutenant announced: “We shall be in New York at dawn to-morrow.” And then they counted the hours. They sat up on deck until a late hour, hoping to be able to make out their native shore before going to rest. But there was no moon; and though the sky was clear and the stars bright overhead, yet the western horizon, on which their line of coast should appear, was veiled with clouds and fogs. At length, weary with watching, they bade each other good-night and retired to their respective staterooms. Yet even then and there they could not sleep. The keen anxiety as to how they should find their friends, if indeed they should find them at all, and how they should find their country, if civil war had left them a country undivided—chased slumber from their eyes, until near dawn, when, as often happens to night-watchers, they fell asleep from sheer exhaustion, and slept profoundly until a late hour of the morning. Britomarte was then aroused by a loud rapping at her stateroom door. She started up, only half awake and much bewildered, and demanded: “Who is there?” “Sister, it is I. I have come to tell you that we are anchored in New York harbor,” answered the voice of Justin. With an irrepressible cry of joy Britomarte sprang up, and with hands trembling with delight, began to dress herself. She was as much overjoyed by the announcement as though she had not been confidently expecting it. She was soon dressed and out on deck, where Justin advanced to meet her. “And all the land is rejoicing in the news of the glorious victory just gained!” he said as he led her on where she could see the forest of shipping in the harbor, and the forest of spires in the great city beyond. “Thank Heaven! Thank Heaven!” she fervently exclaimed, with a heart too full to utter another word. “The tide of war has turned, my sister. And the whole city is rejoicing in the news of a glorious victory,” repeated Justin. “You told me that before. Yes, I heard you, and I thank Heaven for that also. This victory, Justin! Is it a final one?” “I dare not say that. But the precursor of a final one, we may venture to predict.” “And where was it gained?” “At Gettysburg.” “At Gettysburg! Why, that is in Pennsylvania.”