Red’s face was flushed as he pulled at the oars. They moved across the inlet and glided into a tidal pool. They beached the boat, dragging it into the marsh grass. They moved through the heavy undergrowth, shielded from the sun by tall mop-headed palmetto trees. As they left the shadow of the trees the sun flashed pain into their eyes. The beach stretched away to the northeast, ending in a point of land where palmetto trees hung over the sand on great shelves, their roots stripped bare by stormy seas. The ocean was flat and vast, and on the horizon the masts of a sailing ship barely moved in a distant, ghostly mist. To the southwest a big steam frigate moved slowly into Port Royal Sound. When its ensign had disappeared behind the trees they stripped off their clothes and splashed into the water. Red had never learned to swim, so he stuck close to the shallow places. Tim swam into deeper water and paddled just out of his depth, letting the current take him along the shore. Suddenly Red shouted, “Sharks!” Tim saw two putty-colored fins sliding obliquely toward him. Terror struck at his chest and he wheeled and swam for shore. As he reached shallow water he leapt and dashed, the water dragging at his legs, pulling him back. At last his ankles broke free. Red was white as plaster in the sun, his arms crooked tensely. “Saints preserve us,” he said, “that was a close one, indeed.” Tim stood on the sand, his chest heaving, and scanned the water for signs of the sharks but the fins were gone. Red said, “They gave it up as soon as you started to splash toward shore.” “Thank God for that. I swam as if my feet were made of lead.” The men pulled on their pants and sat on the sand. Red was quiet for a while and then he said, “I’m thinking of Nancy and Tommy back in New Haven, waiting for me to finish with the War. Tommy would be a little boy now, not a baby any more. I’ve never even seen his picture. I keep begging Nancy to send me a photograph of both of them, but I suppose she doesn’t have the money to have one made.” He smiled. “You single men are a happy lot. No family worries. Devil may care, that’s what you are.” Tim smiled. Then his face grew serious. “I have a girl,” he said. “We have an understanding, but I haven’t spoken to her father yet.” “A girl is it? Well, you’re a fox, Timmy boy. I’ve lived and fought with you since we left the North and you’ve never so much as mentioned a girl.” Red’s face took on a faraway look. “Nancy and I were thinking of moving away from New Haven after the war. Tell me, how is life in a country town?”