He was now in the midst of shocking and terrible scenes, but he heeded them not as much as he would have heeded the smallest accident to a fellow-creature a few hours before. Already he seemed familiar with battles and all their horrors. Men were hurrying by with medical stores. The wounded were passing, on stretchers, or in the arms of their friends, or limping painfully, ghastly, bleeding, but heroic still. They smiled as they showed their frightful hurts. One poor fellow had had his arm torn off by a cannon ball: the flesh hung in strings. Some lay by the roadside, faint from the loss of blood. And all the time the deadly, deafening tumult of the battle went on. To guard his prisoner securely was Frank's first thought. But greater, more absorbing even than that, was the wild wish to see the enemies of his country defeated, and to share in the glorious victory. "Frank Manly! what sort of a beast have you got there?" cried a soldier, returning from the action with a slight wound. Frank recognized a member of another company in the same regiment to which he belonged. "I've got a sharpshooter that I've taken prisoner." And he briefly related his adventure, every word of which the rebel, who rather admired his youthful captor, voluntarily confirmed. "It's just as he tells you," he said, assuming a candid, reckless air. "I am well enough satisfied. If your men are equal to your boys, I shall have plenty of company before night." "You think we shall have you all prisoners?" inquired Frank, eagerly. "This island," replied the rebel, "is a perfect trap. I've known it from the beginning. You outnumber us two to one, and if the fight goes against us, we've no possible chance of escape. We've five thousand men on the island, and if we're whipped you'll make a pretty respectable bag. But you never can conquer us,"--he hastened to add, fearing lest he was conceding too much. "Can't, eh?" laughed Frank. "Where's the last ditch?" "Never mind about that," said the prisoner, with a peculiar grin. By this time several other stragglers had gathered around them, eager to hear the story of the drummer boy's exploit. The rebel had looked curiously at his youthful captor ever since he had heard him called by name. At length he said:-- "Have you got a brother in the confederate army?" Frank changed color. "Why do you ask that?" "Because we have a Captain Manly, from the north somewhere, who looks enough like you to be a pretty near relation." Frank trembled with interest as he inquired, "What is his given name?" "Captain--Captain _George_ Manly, I'm pretty sure." "Yes, sir,"--and sorry tears came into Frank's eyes as he spoke,--"I suppose I must own he is my brother." "Well, you've a smart chance of meeting him, I reckon,--if, as I said, your men are equal to your boys. For he's fighting against you to-day, and he's one of the pluckiest, and he won't run." XXX.