The wide street was quiet and deserted under the scorching sun. The
leaves on the vines and trees in its gardens hung limply; even the birds
had no strength to sing in the heavy， sticky air.
Then the silence was broken by the rise and fall of chimes， repeated
four times. A deep bell sounded four strokes， and a strong voice called
out: \"Four of the clock， and all s well.\"
A short time later， there was a distant noise of galloping hooves. The
watchman in the church steeple looked intently as the gray-uniformed
rider approached then passed beneath him. It was all right. He recognized
the young officer. It was Andrew Anson， hurrying to his house farther
down Meeting Street.
\"August 8， 1863，\" wrote Major William Ellis in his small pocket
journal. His handwriting was precise， neatly formed and even. \"We have
succeeded in our efforts to remain undetected，\" the words marched ex-
actly across the thin page， \"and we are prepared to defend ourselves
against the aroused Rebels when they learn of our presence. There will be
many of them， to our few， but we trust in God to help us， because our
cause is just. The Parrott gun we have brought from the ship is aimed at
the very heart of the Rebellion. It will be our privilege to bring down in
dust the arrogant seed of the so-called Confederacy. God grant that the
wound be mortal.\"
\"Andrew!\" Lucy Anson s arms reached for her husband. He kissed
her， hurried kisses on her face， eyes， lips， hair， until Lucy began to gasp.
Then he took both her hands in his and held them to his face. His eyes
were glowing.
\"You re so beautiful，\" he whispered.
Lucy s wide gray eyes filled with happy tears. \"How long is your
leave?\" she said. \"You should have told me you were coming so I could
have everything ready. No， I take that back. The surprise was wonderful.\"
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