The Chaplain took his place in front of the rhododendron-filled fireplace. The bride and groom stood before him, with Si and Shorty in support. All of Co. Q crowded into the room, and the rest looked through the windows and doors. The Chaplain spoke the words which made the young couple man and wife, and handed them a certificate to that effect. Shorty then advanced, with his hand full of greenbacks, and said: "Missis Hartburn: Co. Q of the 200th Ind., of which you are now a brevet member, has appointed me to present their congratulations. We extend to you the right hand of fellership of as fine a crowd o' soldiers as ever busted caps on any field of battle. We're very glad to have your young husband with us. We'll take care of him, treat him right, and bring him back to you crowned with the laurels of victory. You just bet your life we will. That's our way o' doin' things. Madam, Co. Q very much wished to present you with a trou-- trou-- tro-- what is that blamed word, Si?" "Trowso," whispered Si-- "with a trowso," continued Shorty, "but circumstances and about 150 mile o' mud road over which we have no control prevented. To show, though, that we really meant business, and ain't givin' you no wind, we have collected the skads for a regular 24-carat trow-- trous-- trows-- trou-- tro-- (blamed the dinged word, what is it, Si?)" "Trowso," prompted Si "for a regler 24-carat trowso which I have the pleasure o' putting in your lily-white hands, at the same time wishin' for the company, for you and your husband, all happiness and joy in your married 'life. No more, from yours truly." Shorty's brow was beaded with perspiration as he concluded this intellectual effort and handed the bride the money, which she accepted, as she had done everything else on that eventful day, as some thing that she was expected to do. The company applauded as if it had been a speech by Daniel Webster, and then the supper-table was attacked. Then came pipes, and presently the brigade band came over and serenaded. A fiddle was produced from somewhere, and a dance started. Suddenly came the notes of a drum in camp. "Early for tattoo, ain't it?" said they, looking inquiringly at one another. "That's no 'tattoo," said Shorty; "that's the long roll. Break for camp, everybody." CHAPTER XI. THE MOUNTAIN FOLK THE SHADOW OF AN EAST TENNESSEE VENDETTA. THE long roll turned out to be occasioned by the burning of a Union Tennesseean's house by a squad of revengeful guerrillas, but the regiment had to stay under arms until a party of cavalry went out and made an investigation. The men stacked their arms, and lay around on the ground to get what sleep was possible, and which was a good deal, for the night was pleasant, and there are worse beds than the mossy hillside on a July night.