“That nigh killed me, but I meant to be a good friend to the boy. They took even that comfort from me, for they carried him away down South to his father's folks, and I never seed him again.” The man's face was fever-flushed now, and his words came almost in a whisper. He tossed uneasily from side to side. “Ralph, my head bothers me--it aches so strangely. I wish--” But {142}the wish was never told. A wild look came over his face, his words became incoherent. A delirium had seized him, and kindly as he was tended by the nurses and his comrades, he never regained his senses. A few days of apparent suffering, and Bill Elliotts kindly heart ceased to beat. The uncouth, rugged, but brave soldier had passed on to the Great Beyond. [Illustration: 0151] It was late in the afternoon of a raw November day, while the winds shrieked mournfully, when they carried him to a little valley in which they had dug a grave, into whose depth they lowered the body of a brave and true soldier, who never shirked a duty. The chaplain, a plain and tender, man, read impressively that beautiful Psalm: _“Hear my cry, O God; attend unto my prayer. “From {143}the end of the earth will I cry unto Thee, when my heart is overwhelmed; lead me to the rock that is higher than I. “For Thou hast been a shelter for me, and a strong tower from the enemy. “I will abide in Thy tabernacle forever. I will trust in the covert of Thy wings. Selah_.” In a clear and ringing voice he read the solemn burial service, and the comrades of the dead soldier listened reverently. When he had concluded, some one suggested that they sing, and a clear, sweet voice broke plaintively into that exquisite hymn, ”_Abide with me, fast falls the eventide; The darkness deepens--Lord, with me abide; * When other helpers fail, and comforts flee, Help of the helpless, O abide with me._” The voice suddenly broke into a passion of tears, and Ralph threw himself on the grave, which was fast being filled up, and cried--“Bill, Bill, you were my best friend--I cannot let you go.” There were many looks of sympathy for the boy, but death was, after all, nothing but a passing incident to men who faced it every hour, and as Ralph went back to his tent, his heart rebelled at the levity which allowed the merry jest to pass around, as to whose turn it would be next. To him it was a new experience. He had seen hundreds of men shot down in battle, but no one had died whom he had cared for, and it came home to him. He had become deeply attached to Bill, whose cheerful, off-hand manners had enlivened the homesick boy. He had lost his comrade, but his memory was cherished, and he was missed for a long time. [Illustration: 0152] CHAPTER XIV. FREDERICKSBURG. [Illustration: 9153] T was {144}with many forebodings and some outspoken prophecies of failure that many of the Union officers learned that they were to move at once upon Fredericksburg.