Then his face burned with new blushes to think how much he had said. They sat down, he still holding her hand, with his eyes fixed upon her face. Somehow, in the mysterious telegraphy of first love, they so fully understood one another that words were unnecessary. Speechless, but fuller of happiness than they ever dreamed was possible in the world, they sat with clasped hands until Maria came back, calling out: "Time's up. The folks say that they can't let Annabel have you any longer. Come into the sitting-room, both of you. Come along, Si. Come along, Annabel." Si rose obediently, but Annabel declined to go. She did not say why, but Maria, with a woman's instincts, knew that she wanted to be alone to think it all over. Maria therefore hurried back. "Good-by, Annabel," he said, pressing her hand again. "I'll write to you first thing when I git back." "Good-by, Si. God keep you for me, safe through battles and dangers." She turned away to hide her bursting tears. It was astonishing how quick midnight came. When the clock striking 12 smote the ears of the family, nobody had said, heard or asked one tithe of what he or she was burning eager to, yet the parting was but a little more than two brief hours away. With a heart heavier even than when she parted from her boy for the first time, Mrs. Klegg arose, and sought to distract her thoughts by collecting as big a package as they could carry of the choicest eatables. How often she stopped to cry softly into her apron not even the girls knew, for she was resolved to keep up a brave front, especially before Si, and would carefully wash all traces of tears from her face, and clear the sobs from her throat before re-entering the room where he was. Shorty had at once been taken to the hearts of everyone, and all the older men urged him to "come back here as soon as the war's over, marry a nice girl, and settle down among us." Si received many compliments upon his development into such a fine, stalwart man. One after another said: "Si, what a fine, big man you've growed into. I declare, you're a credit to your father and mother and the settlement. We all expect you to come back a Captain or a Colonel, and we'll run you for Sheriff or County Commissioner, or something as big." "O, anything but Treasurer," Si would laughingly reply. "I've had enough handling other folks' money to last me my life." Presently Abraham Lincoln brought the spring wagon around. Even in the moonlight Si could see that freedom and the Deacon's tuition had developed the ex-slave into a much better man than the wretched runaway whom his father had protected. He wanted to know more of him, but there were too many demands upon his attention. They all mounted into the wagon, the bundles were piled in, one last embrace from his mother, and they drove away, reaching the station just in time to catch the train. As he kissed Maria good-by she shoved a letter into his hand, saying: