"What Alexander sighed for,

What Cæsar's soul possessed,

What heroes, saints have died for,

Glory!"

Within three days after his settlement with Black Donald, Colonel Le

Noir left home to join his regiment, ordered to Mexico.

He was accompanied by his son Craven Le Noir as far as Baltimore, from

which port the reinforcements were to sail for New Orleans, en route

for the seat of war.

Here, at the last moment, when the vessel was about to weigh anchor,

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Craven Le Noir took leave of his father and set out for the Hidden

House.

And here Colonel Le Noir's regiment was joined by the company of new

recruits in which Herbert Greyson held a commission as lieutenant, and

thus the young man's worst forebodings were realized in having for a

traveling companion and superior officer the man of whom he had been

destined to make a mortal enemy, Colonel Le Noir. However, Herbert soon

marked out his course of conduct, which was to avoid Le Noir as much as

was consistent with his own official duty, and, when compelled to meet

him, to deport himself with the cold ceremony of a subordinate to a

superior officer.

Le Noir, on his part, treated Herbert with an arrogant scorn amounting

to insult, and used every opportunity afforded him by his position to

wound and humiliate the young lieutenant.

After a quick and prosperous voyage they reached New Orleans, where

they expected to be farther reinforced by a company of volunteers who

had come down the Mississippi river from St. Louis. These volunteers

were now being daily drilled at their quarters in the city, and were

only waiting the arrival of the vessel to be enrolled in the regiment.

One morning, a few days after the ship reached harbor, Herbert Greyson

went on shore to the military rendezvous to see the new recruits

exercised. While he stood within the enclosure watching their

evolutions under the orders of an officer, his attention became

concentrated upon the form of a young man of the rank and file who was

marching in a line with many others having their backs turned toward

him. That form and gait seemed familiar--the circumstances in which he

saw them again--painfully familiar. And yet he could not identify the

man. While he gazed, the recruits, at the word of command, suddenly

wheeled and faced about. And Herbert could scarcely repress an

exclamation of astonishment and regret.

That young man in the dress of a private soldier was Clara Day's

betrothed, the widow's only son, Traverse Rocke! While Herbert

continued to gaze in surprise and grief, the young recruit raised his

eyes, recognized his friend, flushed up to his very temples and cast

his eyes down again. The rapid evolutions soon wheeled them around, and

the next order sent them into their quarters.




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