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The Daily Dispatch: October 3, 1861., [Electronic resource], Hatteras and the coast defence. (search)
ll know me — know me anywhere." "You are so much, better," I replied, smoothing the white pillow; "in a few days you will be able to return home." "Waen Madelene comes," he murmured, "she will take me with her." I shaded the light from the sufferer's face; still his hand clasped mine, and his searching glance rested upon the closed door. A night in a hospital. To sit surrounded by the dying and the suffering; to feel the clasp or a fevered hand, as if it was sending its Moulton lava through your being — fate and death, earth and immortality. I was started from my revery by the sudden movement of my patient and the glad cry that rung from his lips, "She has come." The door swung noiselessly back on its hinges; a tall, magnificently formed woman, whose black garments swayed lightly to and fro, and over whose shoulders hung a wealth of raven hair, stood within the open portals. The large, passionate eyes roam from bed to bed; then she glided forward, nearer and nea