The entrance of the blue-coats created quite as much of a sensation as they could have expected, even if the signs of it were, perhaps, not quite as apparent as they had anticipated, and they marched to a vacant seat, feeling very hot and by no means as effective as they had proposed to do. Little Thurston dropped down on his knees and bowed his head, and Middleton, with a new feeling of Thurston’s superior genius, followed his “tactics.” This was good generalship, for no one could know that the two young reprobates were mopping their perspiring faces and setting every button straight, instead of being bowed in reverential devotion. No one entered their pew, and they were left alone. Several who came in the church after them, and might have turned to their pew, on seeing the blue uniforms, passed by with what looked very like a toss of the head. But what Thurston called his “straight flush” was when he drew out his prayer-book—which he had found “somewhere”—and began to follow the service, in a distinctly reverential voice. As many eyes were bent on them at this as had been directed to them when they first appeared, and Miss Thomasia, adjusting her spectacles to satisfy herself beyond doubt if her eyes were not deceiving her, dropped them on the floor and cracked one of the glasses. For the idea of a Yankee soldier using a prayer-book had never occurred to any female member of that congregation any more than it had that a certain distinguished being used it, popularly supposed to be also clad in blue uniform, of sulphurous flame. The favorable impression made by this move was apparent to the young men, and Middleton stepped on Thurston’s toe, so heavily as almost to make him swear with pain, trying at once to convey his admiration and to call Thurston’s attention to a very pretty young girl in the choir, whose eyes happened to fall that way, and whom he indicated as Miss Cary. Steve Allen was with her now, singing out of the same book with her, as if he had never thrown a card or taken a drink in his life. The self-gratulation of the two officers was, however, of brief duration. The next moment there was a heavy tread and a sabre-clatter behind them, and turning with the rest of the congregation to look, there was Leech stalking up the aisle. He made directly toward the officers, and had Middleton been at the entrance of the pew he might, perhaps, in the frame of mind into which the sight threw him, have openly refused the new-comer admittance. Thurston, however, was nearer the entrance, and nothing of the kind occurred. He simply moved down to the door of the pew, and was so deeply immersed in his devotions at that particular instant, that even the actual pressure of Leech’s hand on his arm failed to arouse him, and the Provost, after standing a moment waiting for him to move, stepped into a pew behind, and sat down in the corner by himself.