"And suppose Patterson does not do his duty?"
"Then we may have too much on our hands. Beauregard doesn't
want any help just now." And weary, no doubt, of the subject,
the major diverged to some lighter matters of conversation. I
tried to answer and make talk, but my heart was very sick. I
could hardly know what he was saying; Beauregard, and
Patterson, and Johnston, so ran in my thoughts. I suppose the
major did not find it out, for he seemed very well satisfied,
and at parting said that "after the victory" he would come and
have another ride with me.
So I waited now for news. Dull, dreadful days; long with an
interminable length of quarters and half hours; heavy with
fear. They were not many; for the morning but one, I think,
after my last ride, a gentleman stopped me in the street to
tell me that firing had been heard that morning, and McDowell
had, it was thought, met his enemy. I calculated the days
since I had seen Mr. Thorold; speculated on Patterson's
probable activity or non-activity, and Christian's consequent
place and duty in the position of affairs; and could only know
that it was all a confusion of pain. At first I thought to go
at once back to the house and give up my walk; but a second
thought of that dull weary waiting inside of walls sent me on
up the avenue. I might hear something more; at any rate, the
open sky was a better breathing-place.
The open sky! Blue and calm as ever; moveless and pure; while
the grim strife of a battlefield was raging beneath it. Was
there another struggle where Johnston's forces were opposed by
General Patterson? And why could I not leave my cares now, as
so many a time I had left them, as I longed to leave them this
minute, - in the hand that upheld that blue sky? I could not.
That is to say, I did in some fashion, which kept me from
utterly fainting; but I was not confident; I was not willing
that the will of God should be done irrespective of mine, If
writhed from under the pressure of a coming possibility. Could
I help it? My one first earthly joy, the treasure that
gathered up all life's riches for me; could I think of that
treasure being scattered and not know that should be left
poor? And what if God willed I should be thus poor? Ah, I was
not ready.
I had a long, feverish walk, made as long as I could; and came
home with a sort of thirst of heart, and very weary. Mrs.
Sandford met me, and I had to turn into the parlour.
"Grant is a little better, I think," she said.
I could not find words to speak to her. If he was better, why,
then, he would be taking me from Washington. I knew how it
would be.