"War!" exclaimed Mrs. Passford, when her husband had announced so
briefly the situation which had caused such intense agitation in his
soul. "What do you mean by war, Horatio?"

"I mean all that terrible word can convey of destruction and death, and,
worse yet, of hate and revenge between brothers of the same household!"
replied the husband impressively. "Both the North and the South are
sounding the notes of preparation. Men are gathering by thousands on
both sides, soon to meet on fields which must be drenched in the gore of
brothers."

"But don't you think the trouble will be settled in some way, Horatio?"
asked the anxious wife and mother; and her thoughts, like those of her
husband, reverted to the loving daughter then in the enemy's camp.

"I do not think so; that is impossible now. I did not believe that war
was possible: now I do not believe it will be over till one side or the
other shall be exhausted," replied Captain Passford, wiping from his
brow the perspiration which the intensity of his emotion produced.
"A civil war is the most bitter and terrible of all wars."

"I cannot understand it," added the lady.

"Is it really war, sir?" asked Christy, who had been an interested
listener to all that had been said.

"It is really war, my son," replied the father earnestly. "It will be
a war which cannot be carried to a conclusion by hirelings; but father,
son, and brother must take part in it, against father, son, and