"Hard to say--we don't have the ordering of battles," replied Jack.
"But it's been rather quiet for a few days, and it's likely to
continue so. If it does one of their men may fly over to-morrow, or
the next day, and drop something your brother wore--or even a note
from him."

"Oh, I hope they do the last!" she murmured. "If I could have a
note from him I'd be the happiest girl alive I I'd know, then, that
he was all right."

"He may be," said Tom, trying to be hopeful. "You see Du Boise, who
was with Harry when the fight took place, is himself wounded, so he
can't tell us much about it."

"Yes, they told me that my brother's companion reached here badly
hurt. He is so brave! I wish they would let me help take care of
him. I understand a great deal about wounds, and I'm not at all
afraid of the sight of blood. It was silly of me to faint just now,
but--I--I couldn't help it. I'd been counting so much on seeing
Harry, and when they told me he was gone--"

She covered her face with her hands, and endeavored to repress her
emotion.

"You're not Harry's little sister, are you?" asked Jack, hoping to
change the current of talk into other and happier channels.

"No; that's Mabel--Mab he calls her. She's younger than I. Did he
often speak of her?"