Who Goes There?. B. K. Benson
air; besides, you will feel better when you have eaten," he replied.
Lydia was silent; her face was wet with tears.
Groups of soldiers stood in our way; some were mad with excitement, gesticulating and cursing; others were mute and white. I heard one say, "My God! what will become of the Minnesota to-morrow?"
The Doctor's face was calm, but tense. My heart seemed to have failed.
The burning Congress threw around us a light brighter than the moon; each of us had two shadows.
We sat down to supper, "Doctor," said I, "how can you be so calm?"
"Why, my boy," he said, "I counted on such, long ago--and worse; besides, you know that I believe everything will come right."
"What is to prevent the Merrimac from destroying our whole fleet and then destroying our coast?"
"God!" said Dr. Khayme.
Lydia, kissed him and burst into weeping.
So far as I can remember, I have passed no more anxious night in my life than the night of the 8th of March, 1862. My health did not permit me to go out of the tent; but from the gloomy rumours of the camps I knew that my anxiety was shared by all. Strange, I thought, that my experience in war should be so peculiarly disastrous. Bull Run had been but the first horror; here was another and possibly a worse one. The East seemed propitious to the rebels; Grant alone, of our side, could gain victories.
The burning ship cast a lurid glare over land and sea; dense smoke crept along the coast; shouts came to my ears--great effort, I knew, was being made to get the Minnesota off; nobody could have slept that night.
The Doctor made short absences from his camp. At ten o'clock he came in finally; a smile was on his face. Lydia had heard him, and now came in also.
"Jones," said he, "what will you give me for good news?"
"Oh, Doctor," said I, "don't tantalize me."
Lydia was watching the Doctor's face.
"Well," said he, "I must make a bargain. If I tell you something to relieve your fears, will you promise me to go to sleep?"
"Yes; I shall be glad to go to sleep; the quicker the better."
"Well, then, the Merrimac will meet her match if she comes out to-morrow."
"What do you mean, Doctor?"
"I mean that a United States war-vessel, fully equal to the Merrimac, has arrived."
Lydia left the tent.
I almost shouted. I could no more go to sleep than I could fly. I started to get out of bed. The Doctor put his hand on my head, and gently pressed me back to my pillow.
VIII
THE TWO SOUTHS
"Yet spake yon purple mountain,
Yet said yon ancient wood,
That Night or Day, that Love or Crime,
Lead all souls to the Good."--EMERSON
About two in the morning I was awaked by a noise that seemed to shake the world. The remainder of the night was full of troubled dreams.
I thought that I saw a battle on a vast plain. Two armies were ranked against each other and fought and intermingled. The dress of the soldiers in the one army was like the dress of the soldiers in the other army, and the flags were alike in colour, so that no soldier could say which flags were his. The men intermingled and fought, and, not able to know enemy from friend, slew friend and enemy, and slew until but two opponents remained; these two shook hands, and laughed, and I saw their faces; and the face of one was the face of Dr. Khayme, but the face of the other I did not know.
Now, dreams have always been of but little interest to me. I had dreamed true dreams at times, but I had dreamed many more that were false. In my ignorance of the powers and weaknesses of the mind, I had judged that it would be strange if among a thousand dreams not one should prove true. So this dream passed for the time from my mind.
We had breakfast early. The Doctor was always calm and grave. Lydia looked anxious, yet more cheerful. There was little talk; we expected a trial to our nerves.
After breakfast the Doctor took two camp-stools; Lydia carried one; we went to a sand-hill near the beach.
To the south of the Minnesota now lay a peculiar vessel. No one had ever seen anything like her. She seemed nothing but a flat raft with a big round cistern--such as are seen in the South and West--amidships, and a very big box or barrel on one end.
The Merrimac was coming; there were crowds of spectators on the batteries and on the dunes.
The Monitor remained near the Minnesota; the Merrimac came on. From each of the iron ships came great spouts of smoke, from each the sound of heavy guns. The wind drove away the smoke rapidly; every manoeuvre could be seen.
The Merrimac looked like a giant by the side of the other, but the other was quicker.
They fought for hours, the Merrimac slowly moving past the Monitor and firing many guns, the Monitor turning quickly and seeming to fire but seldom. Sometimes they were so near each other they seemed to touch.
At last they parted; the Monitor steamed toward the shore, and the great Merrimac headed southward and went away into the distance.
Throughout the whole of this battle there had been silence in our little group, nor did we hear shout or word near us; feeling was too deep; on the issue of the contest depended vast results.
When the ships ended their fighting I felt immense relief; I could not tell whether our side had won, but I know that the Merrimac had hauled off without accomplishing her purpose; I think that was all that any of us knew. At any moment I should not have been astonished to see the Merrimac blow her little antagonist to pieces, or run her down; to my mind the fight had been very unequal.
"And now," said the Doctor, as he led the way back to his camp, "and now McClellan's army can come without fear."
"Do you think," I asked, "that the Merrimac is so badly done up that she will not try it again?"
"Yes," he replied; "we cannot see or tell how badly she is damaged; but of one thing we may feel sure, that is, that if she could have fought longer with hope of victory, she would not have retired; her retreat means that she has renounced her best hope."
The dinner was cheerful. I saw Lydia eat for the first time in nearly two days. She was still very serious, however. She had become accustomed in hospital work to some of the results of battle; now she had witnessed war itself.
After dinner the conversation naturally turned upon the part the navy would perform in the war. The Doctor said that it was our fleet that would give us a final preponderance over the South.
"The blockade," said he, "is as nearly effective as such a stupendous undertaking could well be."
"It seems that the rebels find ways to break it at odd times," said I.
"Yes, to be sure; but it will gradually become more and more restrictive. The Confederates will be forced at length to depend upon their own resources, and will be shut out from the world."
"But suppose England or France recognizes the South," said Lydia.
"Neither will do so," replied her father, "England, especially,