Not so with the crowds of country folk and townspeople who lined the streets to see the last of them. For these, when the band came marching down the street and took its place, set up a royal cheering that grew louder as Jefferson Bareaud, the color-bearer, carried the flag to the head of the procession. With the recruits marched the veterans of 1812 and the Indian wars, the one-legged cobbler stumping along beside General Trumble, who looked very dejected and old. The lines stood in silence, and responded to the cheering by quietly removing their hats; so that the people whispered that it was more like an Odd Fellows' Sunday funeral than the departure of enthusiastic patriots for the seat of war. General Trumble's was not the only sad face in the ranks; all were downcast and nervous, even those of the lads from the country, who had not known the comrade they were to leave behind.
Jefferson unfurled the flag; Marsh gave the word of command, the band began to play a quick-step, and the procession moved forward down the cheering lane of people, who waved little flags and handkerchiefs and threw their hats in the air as they shouted. But, contrary to expectation, the parade was not directly along Main Street to the river.
"Right wheel! March!" commanded Tappingham, hoarsely, waving his sword, and Jefferson led the way into Carewe Street.
"For God's sake, don't cry now!" and Tappingham, with a large drop streaking down his own cheek, turned savagely upon Lieutenant Cummings.
"That isn't what he wants. He wants to see us looking cheery and smiling.
We can do it for him this once, I guess! I never saw him any other way."
"You look damn smiling yourself!" snuffled Will.
"I will when we turn in at the gates," retorted his Captain. "On my soul, I swear I'll kill every sniffling idiot that doesn't!--In line, there!" be stormed ferociously at a big recruit.
The lively strains of the band and the shouting of the people grew louder and louder in the room where Crailey lay. His eyes glistened as he heard, and he smiled, not the old smile of the worldly prelate, but merrily, like a child when music is heard. The room was darkened, save for the light of the one window which fell softly upon his head and breast and upon another fair head close to his, where Fanchon knelt. In the shadows at one end of the room were Miss Betty and Mrs. Tanberry and Mrs. Bareaud and the white- haired doctor who had said, "Let him have his own way in all he asks."
Tom stood alone, close by the head of the couch.
"Hail to the band!" Crailey chuckled, softly. "How the rogues keep the time! It's `Rosin the Bow,' all right! Ah, that is as it should be.
Mrs. Tanberry, you and I have one thing in common, if you'll let me flatter myself so far: we've always believed in good cheer in spite of the devil and all, you and I, eh? The best of things, even if things are bad, dear lady, eh?"
"You darling vagabond!" Mrs. Tanberry murmured, trying to smile back to him.
"Hark to `em!" said Crailey. "They're very near! Only hear the people cheer them! They'll `march away so gaily,' won't they ?--and how right that is!" The vanguard appeared in the street, and over the hedge gleamed the oncoming banner, the fresh colors flying out on a strong breeze.
Crailey greeted it with a breathless cry. "There's the flag--look, Fanchon, your flag!--. waving above the hedge; and it's Jeff who carries it. Doesn't it always make you want to dance! Bravo, bravo!"
The procession halted for a moment in the street and the music ceased.
Then, with a jubilant flourish of brass and the roll of drums, the band struck up "The Star Spangled Banner," and Jefferson Bareaud proudly led the way through the gates and down the driveway, the bright silk streaming overhead. Behind him briskly marched the volunteers, with heads erect and cheerful faces, as they knew Corporal Gray wished to see them, their Captain flourishing his sword in the air.
"Here they come! Do you see, Fanchon?" cried Crailey, excitedly. "They are all there, Jeff and Tappingham, and the two Madrillons and Will, the dear old fellow--he'll never write a decent paragraph as long as he lives, God bless him!--and young Frank--what deviltries I've led the boy into!-- and there's the old General, forgetting all the tiffs we've had. God bless them all and grant them all a safe return! What on earth are they taking off their hats for?-- Ah, good-by, boys, good-by!"
They saw the white face at the window, and the slender hand fluttering its farewell, and Tappingham halted his men.
"Three times three for Corporal Gray!" he shouted, managing, somehow, to keep the smile upon his lips. "Three times three, and may he rejoin his company before we enter the Mexican capital!"
He beat the time for the thunderous cheers that they gave; the procession described a circle on the lawn, and then, with the band playing and colors flying, passed out of the gates and took up the march to the wharf.
"the flag, the flag!" whispered Crailey, following it with his eyes. "It shows that you helped make it, Fanchon, it's so beautiful. Ah, Tom, they've said we abused it, sometimes--it was only that we loved it so well we didn't like to see anyone make it look silly or mean. But, after all, no man can do that--no, nor no group of men, nor party! His voice grew louder as the last strains of the music came more faintly from the street.
"They'll take your banner across the Rio Grande, Fanchon, but that is not all--some day its stars must spread over the world! Don't you all see that they will?"
After a little while, he closed his eyes with a sigh; the doctor bent over him quickly, and Miss Betty started forward unconsciously and cried out.
But the bright eyes opened again and fixed themselves upon her with all their old, gay inscrutability.
"Not yet," said Crailey. "Miss Carewe, may I tell you that I am sorry I could not have known you sooner? Perhaps you might have liked me for Fanchon's sake--I know you care for her."
"I do--I do!" she faltered. "I love her, and--ah!--I do like you, Mr.
