"Yes, sir; I suppose so."
"You might say to him, if you think well, that I thought he left us
rather abruptly to-day, and that I don't think he is very well."
"I hope to see you again to-morrow, Doctor."
"Very well, my boy; good-by till to-morrow; you will find me here by ten
o'clock."
When I reached the company I did not see Willis; he was off on duty
somewhere. On the next morning, however, he came in, and everything
passed in the friendliest way possible, at first. Evidently he was
pleased with me for absenting myself from Lydia. But he soon learned
that I was to return to the Sanitary Camp, and his countenance
changed at once.
"What am I to think of you?" he asked.
"I trust you will think well of me," I replied; "I am doing you no
wrong. You are not well. The Doctor noticed it."
"He said that I was not well?"
"Yes."
"Well, he is wrong for once; I am as well as I ever was in my life."
"He said you left very suddenly yesterday."
"I suppose I did leave suddenly; but I saw no reason to remain longer."
"Willis," said I, "let us talk seriously. Why do you not speak to Miss
Lydia and her father? Why not end this matter one way or the other?"
"I haven't seen Miss Lydia since you left us in February," said he; "how
can I speak to her?"
"But you can speak to Dr. Khayme."
"Yes, I could speak to Dr. Khayme, but I don't consider him the one to
speak to first, and to tell you the truth I'm afraid of it. It's got to
be done, but I feel that I have no chance; that's what's hurting me."
"Then I'd have it over with, as soon as possible," said I.
"That's easier said than done; but I intend to have it over; it's doing
me no good. I wish I'd never seen her."
"Why don't you write?"
"I've thought of that, but I concluded I wouldn't. It looked cowardly
not to face the music."
"My dear fellow," said I, "there is no cowardice in it at all. You ought
to do it, or else bury the whole thing, and I don't suppose you can
do that."
"No, I can't do that; if I don't see her shortly, I shall write."
I was very glad to hear this. From what he had just said, coupled with
my knowledge of the Doctor and of Lydia, I did not think his chance
worth a penny, and I felt certain that the best thing for him to do was
to bring matters to a conclusion. He would recover sooner.
At ten o'clock I was with Dr. Khayme. He told me that Lydia had arrived
in the night, and that he had just accompanied her to the hospital.
"And how is our friend Willis to-day?" he asked; "is he a little less
out of sorts?"
"He is friendly to-day, Doctor."
"Did you tell him that I remarked about his abrupt manner?"
"Yes, sir."
"Very well. I now I want to talk to you about your future work, Jones. I
have thought of your suggestion that you wear Confederate uniform, while
scouting."
"And you do not oppose it?"
"Decide for yourself. I cannot conscientiously take part in war; all I
can do is to endeavour to modify its evil, and try to turn it to good."
The Doctor talked long and deeply upon these matters, and ended by
saying that he would get me Confederate clothing from some wounded
prisoner. Then he began a discussion of the principles which the
respective sections were fighting for.
"Doctor," said I; "awhile ago, when I was urging that a scout would be
of greater service to his cause if he disguised himself, as my friend
Jones does, you seemed to doubt my assertion that the best thing for the
rebels was their quick defeat."
"I remember it."
"Please tell me what you have in mind."
"It is this, Jones: America must be united, or else dis-severed. I
believe in the world-idea; although I condemn this war, I believe in the
Union. The difference between us is, that I do not believe and you do
believe that the way to preserve the Union is going to war. But war has
come. Now, since it has come, I think I can see that an easy defeat of
the Southern armies will not bring about a wholesome reunion. For the
people of the two sections to live in harmony, there must be mutual
respect, and there must be self-respect. An easy triumph over the South
would cause the North great vainglory and the South great humiliation.
Granting war, it should be such as to effect as much good and as little
harm as possible. The South, if she ever comes back into the Union
respecting herself, must be exhausted by war; she must be able to know
that she did all she could, and the North must know that the South
proved herself the equal of the North in everything manly and
respectable. So I say that I should fear a future Union founded upon an
easy submission; there would be scorners and scorned--not friends."