He felt her wrinkled forehead and her white hair with his hand. He seemed to be vainly trying to see her face. He was like one looking far away. “Oh, I can see you!” he said. “Hair as yellow as a com-tassel, an' blue eyes an' cheeks as red as roses, an' feet like a fawn's. You are beautiful, an' I love you, Anne, I love you. I've wanted to tell you--these forty years.” It may be that she loved him, also, for she never left his side until one June day, more than a month later, we saw for the last time this modest, gentle, unknown hero of war and peace. CHAPTER XIII.--PEACE [Illustration: 9346] HERE was a double wedding at Merrifield in September, and, next to McCarthy and myself, the happiest man there was Sam, who shook my hand before the ceremony to give me courage, and spoke a cheering word. “You'll be glad you done it when it's all over,” he said. So glad have I ever been that I hold my peace when I think of that day and of her, the dearest blessing of my life. There are things which had better be let alone, even though one had the tongue of an angel. Such is that sense of pride and joy that came to me when I put my arms around her, and knew that she was mine at last. And, after all, the loves and marriages of the gentleman and myself are only small incidents of our history, which has to do with the loves and marriages of commerce, and there is yet a little to be added. We went to Saratoga on our wedding journey. The day we arrived I met my old friend Swipes in the office of the Grand Union Hotel. He was cashier in the great gambling-house of John Morrissey. He told me that Bony had lost fifty thousand dollars in play the night before. “It broke him,” said Swipes. “He had to borrow a hundred dollars from the old man.” That very day I met Bony on the street. “Look here, old chap,” he said, as we stepped aside, “I'm broke, and if you'll lend me ten thousand dollars I can do you a favor.” He paused and looked into my eyes, but I made no answer. “I know that McCarthy has been looking for evidence against the Erie party for their sins in Albany,” he went on. “That's why he split with the Commodore. I can help him. I could tell him things that would put some of them behind the bars. The consolidation of the Central and Hudson River systems will be coming on this fall. I'll put a whip in your hands that will keep them out of Albany.” I found McCarthy, and brought the two men together. The gentleman listened while Bony set forth his evidence and promised two affidavits in support of it. “All right,” said McCarthy, “bring your witnesses to me. If they're satisfactory, I'll buy your note for one year for ten thousand dollars, on the understanding that we're both acting in the interest of public decency.” Jo and I left for New York a few days later.