CHAPTER SEVENTH.

THE HUSBAND A PRISONER--EXILE OF THE SOLDIER'S WIFE.


Months rolled on, during which time Mrs. Wentworth was cheered by many
kind and affectionate letters from her husband, who had not been sick
a day since his departure from home. One of the letters received from
him stated that he had been detailed from his regiment to act as clerk
in Brigadier General Floyd's adjutant general's office, his superior
intelligence fitting him admirably for such an office; and the next
letter from him was dated at Fort Donelson, whence General Floyd had
been ordered with his brigade.

Fort Donelson fell. We need not record here the heroic defense and
stubborn fighting of the Confederate forces, and their unfortunate
capture afterwards. These are matters of history, and should be
recorded by the historian, and not the novelist. Sufficient to say,
that in the last day's fight Alfred Wentworth, having received a
severe wound in the arm, was marching to the rear, when an officer,
dressed in the garb of a lieutenant, who was lying on the field,
called faintly to him, and on his going up, he observed that the
lieutenant's left leg was fearfully mangled by a fragment of shell,
and was bleeding so profusely, that, unless medical aid was quickly
procured, he would die. Forgetting his own wound, which was very
painful, he lifted the officer on his shoulder and bore him to the
hospital, where his leg was immediately attended to, and his life