But Stephen did not answer her. Joy in the pride of his asserted manhood left him dumb; he had broken free of the dull office, with its drab walls and dusty walnut woodwork, and littered desk, its bookcases with their yellow calfskin volumes; his future was to be wholly given over to heroism and glory! He was sure that he had made a choice that none, not even his Aunt Virginia or Benson, when they fully understood how he felt about it, would censure him for having made. The drums and fifes rattled on merrily, the lights in the courthouse windows flashed out over the noisy mob on the square. Stephen found a place for Marian on the tavern steps where she could see all that was passing. McKeever's Company, with McKeever at its head, was making the circuit of the square. Here and there as it moved along, a man would break through the crowd and fall in line, to be greeted by a burst of frantic cheering. The company crossed the north side of the square, then the west and south sides, now it was approaching the east side and the tavern where Marian, clinging to the boy's arm, stood flushed and eager; but as the marching men came opposite them, she uttered a little smothered cry of dismay, for Stephen had gently released himself from her hold. An instant later and he had vanished in the crowd, and when she saw him again he was one of the marching men. CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE I 'VE enlisted,” said Stephen to Benson. The crowd had dispersed, and silence had fallen on the square. Benson had just entered his office whither Stephen had preceded him. The latter stood before his friend, shame-faced and dogged, with his blood quite cooled, and accused by an awakening sense of duty, which denied by his act, was now protesting against that act. “I've enlisted,” he repeated, “and I must go home and tell my Aunt Virginia.” “You've done what?” cried Benson, wheeling on him. “Don't I make it plain to you, I've said it twice—I've enlisted. I'm going to the war.” “You'll do nothing of the sort!” said Benson sharply and angrily. “What do you expect me to say to you?” “I hope you'll be careful what you say,” retorted the young fellow, grinning with a fleeting sense of humour at the situation, “for I'm a soldier now!” He seated himself, and buried his hands deep in his trousers' pockets. “I've thrown over the whole thing, I'll never be a lawyer now, I've chosen a better trade, why don't you congratulate me? They have been patting me on the back and calling me a brave boy, haven't you anything to say?” “I'll get you out of this in the morning,” declared Benson shortly.