Mohun's face was no less smiling. He had lost every trace of gloom.
He gave me intelligence of all my old friends. General Davenant andJudge Conway had become close friends again. Will and Virginia weremarried. Charley was cultivating a mustache and speculating upon a newrevolution. Tom Herbert and Katy were on a visit to "Disaways."
"Poor Nighthawk is the only one whom I miss, my dear Surry," said Mohun."He died trying to save me, and I have had his body taken to Fonthill,where it is buried in the family graveyard."
"He was a faithful friend; and to be killed on that very last morningwas hard. But many were. _You_ had a narrow escape, Mohun."
"Yes, and was only preserved by a Bible."
"A Bible?"
"Do you remember that I was reading by the camp fire, when you came tovisit me on the night preceding the surrender?"
"Yes--in your wife's Bible."
"Well, my dear Surry, when I had finished reading, I placed the volumein my breast, as usual. When I was shot, on the next morning, the bulletstruck the book and glanced. Had the Bible not been there, that bulletwould have pierced my heart. As it was, it only wounded me in thebreast. Here is my old Bible--I carry it about me still."
As he spoke, Mohun drew from his breast the small leather-bound volume,in the cover of which was visible a deep gash.
He looked at it with a smile, and said:---
"This book has been the salvation of my body and soul, Surry. I washaughty and a man-hater once--now I try to be humble. I had no hopeonce, now I am happy. I have one other souvenir of that memorable day atAppomattox--this scrap of paper between the leaves of my old Bible."
He drew out the scrap, which was dirty and discolored with blood.
Upon it was written in pencil, the words:--
"This is the body of General Mohun, C.S.A."
As Mohun pointed to it, a ray of sunset shot athwart the forest, andfell on his serene features, lighting them up with a sort of glory. Theclear eyes gave back the ray, and there was something exquisitely softin them. Mordaunt and Landon too, were bathed in that crimson light ofevening, disappearing beyond the shaggy crest of the Blue Ridge--and Ithought I saw on their proud faces the same expression.
"These three men are happy," I thought. "Their lot has been strange;they have been nearly lost; but heaven has sent to each an angel,to bring back hope to them. Ellen Adair, Georgia Conway, VioletGrafton--these fond hearts have changed your lives, Landon, Mohun, andMordaunt!"
In an hour I was at the "Oaks."
A month afterward, I had returned to "Eagle's Nest."
And in this April, 1868, when the flowers are blooming, and the sun isshining--when a pair of violet eyes make the sunshine still brighter--Iend the last volume of my memoirs.
THE END.
Mohun; Or, the Last Days of Lee and His Paladins. Page 53