It was now nearing the end of the third year of the war. Hugh was seventeen, and was eager to go into the army. His mother would have liked to keep him at home; but she felt that it was her duty not to withhold anything, and Colonel Marshall offered Hugh a place with him. So a horse was bought, and Hugh went to Richmond and came back with a uniform and a sabre. The boys truly thought that General Lee himself was not so imposing or so great a soldier as Hugh. They followed him about like two pet dogs, and when he sat down they stood and gazed at him adoringly. When Hugh rode away to the army it was harder to part with him than they had expected; and though he had left them his gun and dog, to console them during his absence, it was difficult to keep from crying. Everyone on the plantation was moved. Uncle Balla, who up to the last moment had been very lively attending to the horse, as the young soldier galloped away sank down on the end of the steps of the office, and, dropping his hands on his knees, followed Hugh with his eyes until he disappeared over the hill. The old driver said nothing, but his face expressed a great deal. The boys' mother cried a great deal, but it was generally when she was by herself. "She's afraid Hugh'll be kilt," Willy said to Uncle Balla, in explanation of her tears,--the old servant having remarked that he "b'lieved she cried more when Hugh went away, than she did when Marse John and Marse William both went." "Hi! warn't she 'fred they'll be kilt, too?" he asked in some scorn. This was beyond Willy's logic, so he pondered over it. "Yes, but she's afraid Hugh'll be kilt, as _well_ as them," he said finally, as the best solution of the problem. It did not seem to wholly satisfy Uncle Balla's mind, for when he moved off he said, as though talking to himself: "She sutn'ey is 'sot' on that boy. He'll be a gen'l hisself, the first thing she know." There was a bond of sympathy between Uncle Balla and his mistress which did not exist so strongly between her and any of the other servants. It was due perhaps to the fact that he was the companion and friend of her boys. That winter the place where the army went into winter quarters was some distance from Oakland; but the young officers used to ride over, from time to time, two or three together, and stay for a day or two. Times were harder than they had been before, but the young people were as gay as ever. The colonel, who had been dreadfully wounded in the summer, had been made a brigadier-general for gallantry. Hugh had received a slight wound in the same action. The General had written to the boy's mother about him; but he had not been home. The General had gone back to his command. He had never been to Oakland since he was wounded.