This was a peculiarity of his, and it continued until Bill Baker, who had become strong enough to be moved, came to Annapolis, and asked to see the “Cop’ral.” At first the physician refused, but Annie approved the plan, hoping for a good result, and she waited anxiously, while Bill said cheerily, “Hallo, old Cop’ral. Rather nicer quarters here than that sand bank down by that infernal nasty stream.” Bill Baker’s voice was the last which in the far-off prison had sounded kindly in Jimmie’s ears, and now as he heard it again his face lighted up, and his eyes kindled with something like their olden fire. “You know me, Cop’ral. I’m Bill. We’ve been exchanged. We’re up to Annapolis, and Miss Graam is nussin’ you,” Bill continued, and then Jimmie drew a long breath, and burst into a passionate fit of tears. “They’ll do him good. They allus did to Andersonville. He’d hold in till he was fit to burst, and then he’d let ’em slide, and feel better. He’ll know you, Miss Graam, after this.” Annie was called away just then, to attend to another patient, and Bill was left alone with Jimmie. There were a few broken sentences from the latter, and then Bill Baker was heard talking rapidly, but very gently and cautiously, and Jimmie lifted his head once and looked across the room where Annie was. “Better leave him alone a spell, till he thinks it out, and gets it arranged,” Bill said to Annie. “I made him understand where he was, and that you was here, and all right on the main question; and though he’d like to have bust his biler for a minute, he’ll come all straight, I reckon.” It was more than an hour before Annie went to Jimmie again, but when she did, the eager, joyful look in his eyes told her that she was recognized. “Don’t speak to me,—don’t talk,” she said, laying one hand lightly upon the lips, which began to move, while with the other she smoothed the short curls of hair. He kissed the hand upon his lips, and whispered, through the fingers: “Tell me first, was it true, he told me? Do you”—— He did not finish the sentence, for Annie understood him, and bending so near to him that no one else could hear, she said: “Yes, Jimmie,—I do.” He seemed satisfied, and something of his old manner came back to him when, later in the day, Annie tried to straighten the clothes about him, and wet and brushed his hair. “Look like a hippopotamus, don’t I?” he asked, touching his thick-skinned face. “Not half as much as you did,” Annie replied; and the first smile her face had worn for weeks glimmered around her lips, for she knew now the danger was past, and Jimmie Carleton would live. CHAPTER XXXVII. IN ROCKLAND.