narrative from which this tale is made there was no mention of that;
the fact was learned from his surviving comrades. For Barr Lassiter
has answered "Here" to the sergeant whose name is Death.

Two years after he had joined it his regiment passed through the
region whence he had come. The country thereabout had suffered
severely from the ravages of war, having been occupied alternately
(and simultaneously) by the belligerent forces, and a sanguinary
struggle had occurred in the immediate vicinity of the Lassiter
homestead. But of this the young trooper was not aware.

Finding himself in camp near his home, he felt a natural longing to
see his parents and sister, hoping that in them, as in him, the
unnatural animosities of the period had been softened by time and
separation. Obtaining a leave of absence, he set foot in the late
summer afternoon, and soon after the rising of the full moon was
walking up the gravel path leading to the dwelling in which he had
been born.

Soldiers in war age rapidly, and in youth two years are a long time.
Barr Lassiter felt himself an old man, and had almost expected to
find the place a ruin and a desolation. Nothing, apparently, was
changed. At the sight of each dear and familiar object he was
profoundly affected. His heart beat audibly, his emotion nearly
suffocated him; an ache was in his throat. Unconsciously he
quickened his pace until he almost ran, his long shadow making
grotesque efforts to keep its place beside him.

The house was unlighted, the door open. As he approached and paused
to recover control of himself his father came out and stood bare-