over desolate fields. Many tender things I have never said to you I have learned in these days. I write this last message to tell you how, more and more beyond the power of words to express, your love has grown upon me, until your spirit seems the breath I breathe. My heart is so full of love for you and my boy, that I can't go into battle now without thinking how many hearts will ache and break in far away, homes because of the work I am about to do. I am sick of it all. I long to be at home again and walk with my sweet young bride among the flowers she loves so well, and hear the old mocking bird that builds each spring in those rose bushes at our window.
If I am killed, you must live for our boy and rear him to a glorious manhood in the new nation that will be born in this agony. I love you,—I love you unto the uttermost, and beyond death I will live, if only to love you forever.
For two hours she held this letter open in her hands and seemed unable to move it. And then mechanically she opened the one addressed to "Charles Gaston, jr."
"My Darling Boy:—I send you by Nelse my watch and sword. It will be all I can bequeath to you from the wreck that will follow the war. This sword was your great grandfather's. He held it as he charged up the heights of King's Mountain against Ferguson and helped to carve this nation out of a wilderness. It was a sorrowful day for me when I felt it my duty to draw that sword against the old flag in defence of my home and my people. You will live to see a reunited country. Hang this sword back beside the old flag of our fathers when the end has come, and always remember that it was never
