gave back the cup. The woman looked toward the ambulance. She was a tall
young woman, serious, dignified. She impressed me.

We drove past Georgetown Heights. There, amongst the trees, were four
wall-tents in a row; one of them was of double length. The ambulance
stopped; we got out. The Doctor led the way into one of the tents; he
pointed to one of two camp-beds. "That is yours," said he; "go to sleep;
you shall not be disturbed."

"I don't think I can sleep, Doctor."

"Why not?"

"My mind will not let me."

"Well, try," said he; "I will peep in shortly and see how you are
getting on."

I undressed, and bathed my face. Then I lay down on the bed, pulling a
sheet over me. I turned my face to the wall.

I shut my eyes, but not my vision. I saw Ricketts's battery--the First
Michigan charge;--the Black-Horse cavalry ride from the woods. I saw the
rebel cannons through dust and smoke;--a poplar log in a thicket;--a
purple wound--wet clay;--a broken rifle;--stacks of straw.

Oh, the gloom and the shame! What does the future hold for me? for the
cause? What is to defend Washington?

Then I thought of my father; I had not written to him; he would be