"You act and I pray, and you act for me and
mine. I'd like to be under you when you get the troops you were telling
me about; but--God knows best."
Surrey sat gazing earnestly into space, crowded by emotions called up by
these last words, whilst Abram lay watching him with admiring and loving
eyes. "For me and mine," he repeated softly, his look fastening on the
blue sleeve, which hung, limp and empty, near his hand. This he put out
cautiously, but drew it back at some slight movement from his companion;
then, seeing that he was still absorbed, advanced it, once more, and
slowly, timidly, gently, lifted it to his mouth, pressing his lips upon
it as upon a shrine. "For me and mine!" he whispered,--"for me and
mine!" tears dimming the pathetic, dying eyes.
The peaceful quiet was broken by a tempest of awful sound,--groans and
shrieks and yells mingled in horrible discord, blended with the
trampling of many feet,--noises which seemed to their startled and
excited fancies like those of hell itself. The next moment a door was
flung open; and Mrs. Franklin, bruised, lame, her garments torn, blood
flowing from a cut on her head, staggered into the room. "O Lord! O Lord
Jesus!" she cried, "the day of wrath has come!" and fell, shuddering and
crying, on the floor.
CHAPTER XVIII
"_Will the future come? It seems that we may almost ask
this question, when we see such terrible shadow.
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