Still it was with a very sad heart that she found that the time had
come.

For some time she cried in silence, and then, drying her eyes, she
said, trying to speak bravely, though her lips quivered.

"I shall miss you dreadfully, boys; but I will not say a word to keep
you here, for I am sure it is very, very bad for you. What do you mean
to do? Do you mean to go to sea?"

"No, Rhoda; you see uncle was in the army, and used to talk to us
about that; and, as we have never seen the sea, we don't care for it
as some boys do. No, we shall try and go as soldiers."

"But my dear Tom, they will never take you as soldiers; you are too
little."

"Yes, we are not old enough to enlist at present," Tom said; "but we
might go in as buglers. We have thought it all over, and have been
paying old Wetherley, who was once in the band of a regiment, to teach
us the bugle, and he says we can sound all the calls now as well as
any bugler going. We did not like to tell you till we had made up our
minds to go; but we have gone regularly to him every day since the
first week we came here."

"Then you won't have to fight, Tom," Rhoda said joyfully.

"No," Tom said, in a rather dejected tone; "I am afraid they won't let
us fight; still we shall see fighting, which is the next best thing."