Tim squinted his eyes. The distant sailing ship had scarcely moved, but the mist had burned away. “The town is clean,” he said. “The yards of the houses are neat, and the village green is really green. The Connecticut River flows wide and deep below the houses. My girl’s name is Kate. She lives three miles down river. Her eyes are blue and her hair is dark. She’s full of life. Sometimes I worry that she’ll bust loose and go to New York or Boston and marry some tall, dark handsome man.” “But she writes you still?” “Sure she writes, and she sounds as loving-hearted as she ever did.” “Then put away your fears of tall, dark city men.” Red smiled. “Tell me more about the town. What do the men do for a living?” “My father is the only doctor in town. I guess I told you that before. Then there’s the owner of the general store and the parson and the blacksmith. Most of the other men are farmers. It’s just like any country town.” Tim reached for a handful of sand and let it trickle through his fingers. “My father worked so hard he never had time for me or the twins. That grieved him sorely, I’m afraid.” “That’s the way with doctors.” The two men finished dressing and turned away from the stretch of peaceful beach and the limitless ocean. They walked to the boat and dragged it through the slime. Red stepped in and sat in the stern. Tim took the oars. Not a breath of air was stirring the trees. One of Tim’s oars smacked the water, and a white egret flapped suddenly into the air from a saffron-colored tidal pool, flickering white against the bluish Spanish moss that clung to the trees along the shore. CHAPTER TWO The moon came up above the cooking fires and shimmered behind the heat that was still held by the sands of St. Helena Island. Mosquitoes rose from the swamps and pools and sluggish rivers to the west. The soldiers unstacked their rifles and cleaned them. They packed their gear and settled down by the cooking fires and boiled what might be their last hot meal for quite a while. Tim and Red shared a tent with Captain Kautz and Dawson but tonight they sat at the table alone. Tim had set out a candle in a bright brass holder. A faint breeze stirred the tent flaps, and the light flickered on the tin cups and plates. Red’s beard glinted in the yellow light. Most of the boys had already struck their tents, but Kautz liked to keep things set up until the very last so he could spread out maps and do his work. He was short and fierce and powerfully built. He would sit for hours before the company went into action, his blouse open and his head bent, studying the map. He would pull his beard and fuss and fidget and suddenly get to his feet with his bristling chin thrust forward. “And that’s how it will go,” he would say and then smile frostily to himself. “If the Confederates will cooperate.”